[In this series of stories, I strongly encourage you to read the prior chapters leading to the current one.]
*
Jen buzzed me. "President Warwick, Trisha Campbell is here to see you."
I had been waiting for this for what seemed like weeks and my heart picked up a beat at the thought of the young woman outside my door and what was about to happen to her. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to say what I was about to do to her. "Send her in Jenny. And then wait for me as we discussed in the private residence."
My private residence was the entire top floor of the administration building and was accessible via two private elevators. The university saw fit a number of years ago to renovate the upper floors of the building with the top floor as the President's residence, and the next floor down for visiting guests. The wrap-around terrace of the top floor provided a magnificent view of the campus, as well as the local terrain. Plus, it was incredibly private.
My pulse quickened as Trisha walked through the door and closed it behind her. Voluptuous was the only way to describe her -- an extraordinary combination of attributes that were sensually pleasing in so many different ways. The more than lecherous thought crossed my mind that I would love to meet the mother that produced this child. Sun-bleached auburn hair fell across her shoulders and framed an aristocratic face. Penetrating green eyes. She wore a short pale green sundress that accentuated her eyes and left little to the imagination -- but just enough. She had clearly spent time in the sun sporting a light tan and freckles. It was clear that as she aged, she would be a woman with curves in all the right places -- her very presence was a subtle sultry aroma and I could barely constrain my desires. And when she sat down in front of my desk, crossing her legs in such a provocative manner, I could tell that she was exactly what Jen had described. A perfect little cunt. There was clearly no point in delaying the inevitable.
I stood up and walked around to the front of my desk, and leaned back against it, the growing bulge clearly visible in my pants. "Ms. Campbell, I'm glad that you could join me today."
"President Warwick", she started, before noting my half-formed erection. Her eyes lingered just a moment too long before she stammered "I was happy to hear that you were interested in me as a representative of a successful student here at Macalester."
A slip of a smile crossed my lips. I had concocted that story to check her work against her actual grades. "Oh yes, that. Well, I'm sorry to say that that's not exactly the reason for your being here today. I must profess to a small amount of deception. Something's come to my attention and I needed your prior coursework to get a better understanding of what that something is."
A look of momentary confusion crossed her face. "Can you tell me what that is?"
I looked intently at her. "For starters, many of your classmates here consider you a complete fucking bitch. And I have little tolerance for arrogant little cunts -- although I do enjoy the process of rehabilitating them. So tell me, are you? A fucking bitch that is."
Her face reddened and her anger was clearly evident. Her eyes smoldered as she jumped to her feet. "You can't talk to me that way! Who the hell do you think you are?!?"
As she started to turn, I stepped quickly toward her. "Before you leave Ms. Campbell, there is one other thing I need to clear up."
I pressed the button in my hand and the large video screen over the conference table came on and sharpened into focus -- with a very clear image of Trisha Campbell topless and dropping to her knees between the thighs of one of our very distinguished, but apparently, not very well-endowed professors. A look of horror crossed her face as she watched her fingers wrap around the small prick and her mouth absorbed the small head. "Where-where did you get that?"
"Ms. Campbell, apparently you are not only a complete fucking bitch, albeit a very attractive one, but from the looks of things, something of a whore as well. Let me explain the position that you're in. By 8 am tomorrow morning, I'll have this revealing little video of you posted on every porn site imaginable and referenced by your name. Just imagine, every time someone does a search for your name -- they'll get this image of you. Every friend, every family member, every future employer."
"You wouldn't dare! It can be traced back to you..."
"I assure you Trisha, it won't come back to me. I employ a very talented former computer hacker for just this purpose. I got her a job by hiding her convictions, and I reward her handsomely for a variety of services -- one of which is to eliminate any electronic footprints I leave behind and make sure nothing ever gets traced back to me. She has come in quite handy on a number of occasions. And she is both very grateful and very loyal to me. No one, and I mean no one, will ever know that I had a hand in it. As a matter of fact, the most likely suspect will be the owner of that very small cock that appears to be cumming in your hand. I do hope you got an A+ for that."
She looked sick. "You can't do this."
"Hmmmm....but I can. I also don't think you still see the full picture yet. I've also placed a hold on all those transcripts for graduate schools. Beginning tomorrow, your transcript will reflect a number of failed courses, a dismissal from the college as part of a cheating scandal, and you can bid your future goodbye. I think you can call sucking your professor's cock for a grade a cheating scandal, don't you? Do you understand yet?"
