I queued up the video again, smiling to myself. I didn't know the petit blonde undergrad on her knees, but the man I knew well. A senior faculty member in the Department of Philosophy, he long had a reputation for screwing his students, both figuratively and literally. But the video was certainly evidence of the latter. Further, the young woman in this particular scene was the 18-year old daughter of the chair of the College's Board of Trustees. As the small erect cock slipped between her lips, I took pleasure in both the size of his small member and his coming downfall.
My name is Jason Warwick and nailing Professor Robert Mitchell's hide to the wall had been one of my goals since assuming the presidency of Maccalester College the year before. I loved being a college president, especially at Maccalester. We are a small elite college in the northeast, attracting the best and the brightest, and as it turns out, most of those are young women. Nearly 70% of our student body was female, both bright and beautiful, and that is never a bad thing. Those young women were not only attracted to the prestige of our college, but its faculty as well. And our faculty were a mirror of our student body – primarily progressive women with degrees from Ivy League schools that enjoyed our college and its location in New England. As a man in his forties, relatively fit, and not bad looking, being surrounded by students and faculty that are bright, beautiful and female was a major plus. Since I tend to be something of a dominant alpha, it was so much the better.
I was the one who had ordered the small cameras installed in Bob's office over the summer. And thus far, I was the only one who had enjoyed viewing his conquests. That was about to change however. I flipped the button on the intercom and called for Jenny.
One of my two assistants, Jen was a junior at the college majoring in the biological sciences with an eye toward medical school after graduation. Lithe and lean, with auburn hair that fell down her back, she loved the outdoors and her taut body reflected it. When I first interviewed her, I knew she would be the one. Conservatively dressed that day wearing a soft gray skirt, white blouse, and sheer stockings, with her hair pulled back, I was immediately attracted to her. I was startled at my own arousal during the interview – I was acutely aware it was a reaction to her somewhat submissive demeanor. It was not long after I hired her that I made clear my full set of expectations, and I relished those first few afternoons spent fucking her savagely and further instructing her as to her duties.
As she entered, I told her to close the door behind her, a statement that brought a slight smile to her face – it meant she was about to experience some of her more personal duties. I'd spent the morning watching young women perform sexual favors after all. I turned in my chair and clicked the split screen on. Four separate video sequences, one in each corner of the screen, all with the same man, Professor Robert Mitchell, and four different young women, in different stages of undress, but all on their knees between his thighs. I nodded at the screen and Jen first noticed it and I could see the surprise register on her face.
"I don't know all the students on the campus, Jen, but these are particularly intriguing to me now. I know one of these young women, I'm wondering if you might know the rest? And if you do, what can you tell me about them?"
"Do you mean something other than their names and the fact that they're all little cunts?" she asked.
