Chapter 2: Meanwhile, Back At the School...
As Wilton Hargrane, the Dean of Students at the Aphrodite Wendslydale School for Girls, pressed the button to terminate his phone call to Alan Sloan he returned his attention to the meeting with the school's Chief Conditioning Consultant, Dr. Amos Memser and the school's Headmistress, Olivia DeMonde. He had placed the entire conversation on speaker so that the other two could hear it.
"I think that went well," Wilton said smugly.
He looked down over his rotund belly to the petite brunette head bobbing up and down in his lap.
"Helena," he said, "that will be all for now. We can finish this later. You should return to your work."
"Yes, sir," Helena said obediently.
She lovingly place her employer's dick back into his shorts and trousers, zipped him, placed a large, sloppy kiss on the still stiff bulge, stood, straightened her blouse back over her massive bazooms, and left.
"It's deucedly unfair of you to be getting serviced while we're sitting here without, old boy," said the gaunt faced, middle-aged physician.
"Yes," said Olivia, "You're the only man I've ever met who needs to be fellated to make phone call."
"It helps me to focus on the task at hand," the dean said defensively. "Speaking of which," he continued, changing the subject, "I believe that we have everything in place to welcome Alan Sloan into our little circle."
"Do you think it wise," the doctor asked, "to wait until Saturday for him to come up here? A lot can happen in a week."
"I have no intention of waiting until Saturday, Amos," Wilton answered.
Amos looked at him quizzically.
Wilton turned to Olivia and asked, "Have the wheels been set in motion to get our new instructor up here by Monday afternoon?"
"Yes," said Olivia, her full, inviting lips curled into an almost sinister smile, "and it was a good deal easier than our team thought it would be."
"How so?" Wilton asked.
"It turns out that the principal of the school which employs Sloan, a fellow named" Olivia paused, "Damn! What is his name?"
She opened the black, leather folder she was holding and thumbed through the papers in it for a moment or two.
Pulling a sheet triumphantly from the folder she said, "Here it is!" Reading from the paper she continued, "His name is Arnold Nittling.
This time around we didn't need to plant or fabricate anything. It turns out that Mr. Nittling was actually embezzling from the company," Olivia said as she carefully returned the paper to its proper place in the folder.
The dean and the doctor laughed heartily at the news.
"I love those rare moments when a plan executes itself," said Wilton.
"Skimming off the top, was he?" said Amos.
"I don't think that I would use the word 'skimming' in this case," Olivia opined.
"Oh?" Wilton asked.
"No," said Olivia, "He had his hand in the till up to his shoulder. All we had to do was gather the evidence.
We gave it, first, to the authorities. Then we leaked key bits of it to the media. The following day we gave a small portion of it to some of the upper executives in the education company that owns the school."
"It sounds like you went a little overboard with this one," said Amos.
"Not at all," Olivia retorted, "We gave the evidence to the authorities, of course, to spark an investigation. We leaked it to the media to prevent any investigator who might have been too chummy with the company from covering the whole thing up. That also removed the cover up option from the company itself. We leaked information to the company largely as a matter of embarrassing them and keeping them off balance."
"I stand corrected," said Amos respectfully.
"Spoken like a gentleman, Amos," said Olivia.
"If I may steer us back away from our digression," said Wilton, "Is everything in place to properly receive Sloan on Monday."
"There's only one more thing, Wilton," Olivia said, "Did you want one of our girls to demonstrate our unique curriculum to Sloan, or were you going to let Helena have a go at him?"
"No," said Wilton, "No. I definitely want him to experience one of our girls straight away. I'll leave that to your discretion. I'm certain that you will choose wisely and well."
"Thank you, Wilton," said Olivia. She glanced at her watch and added "Gentlemen, if there's nothing else I have a class to teach in ten minutes and just enough time to get there."
"Go," said Wilton, "The students, after all, must come first."
Olivia stood up from her chair to leave.
Olivia DeMonde was a strikingly beautiful and imposing woman. She stood six feet tall. When she wore he customary four inch heels she towered over most people. This was particularly helpful to her ability to maintain control, especially in situations with men. The soft, almost porcelain skin of her face featured high cheek bones, full, sensuous lips, a slightly patrician nose, a long graceful neck, and almond-shaped, hazel eyes. Her raven black hair tumbled down over strong, broad shoulders. Inside he severe business suit her massive breasts jiggled and bounced with her every movement as though they we struggling to break free of their confinement.
Beneath those she had a narrow waist, and hips just wide enough to carry the promise of erotic delights beyond the imaginations of most men and many women.
As she strode across Wilton's office to the door neither Wilton nor Amos could take their eyes off her.
As she reached for the doorknob Wilton said, "One more thing, Olivia. Was your bonus delivered properly?"
Olivia smiled and answered, "He was and he's perfect. Thank you, Wilton. That was very thoughtful."
"If you find anything amiss let me know," said Wilton, "We can always make adjustments. We want you to be happy with him."
