Kiki called his office very day for two weeks straight but couldn't get past the secretary to the President of the College. It was obvious that the President wanted nothing to do with her. She chalked it up to the really bad decision to go to his party with Wistler, letting him show her off as his date in front of all the faculty members she had been fucking for years and who, of course, were there with their wives. Not a smart thing to do in retrospect, but it meant so much to Wistler. Now that bad choice and the furious reaction of his colleagues was probably going to drive him out of the College, tenure or no tenure.
Finally, she called on a day when the secretary was out and got a substitute. The poor girl took Kiki's name, accepted that she had had prior business with the President, and made an appointment with him for her two days later. There followed a call on her voicemail asking if it could be rescheduled (for a century from now, probably) but Kiki ignored it.
When Kiki arrived at the Administration Building, the President's regular secretary was furious at her for going around her! Even though Kiki was dressed very demurely, in a long skirt and high-necked blouse and was wearing a bra, the attractive but formidable middle-aged secretary glared at her with hate in her eyes! She must have known what good Kiki had done for the College, using her own body to draw the randy visiting professor away from vulnerable students. Kiki thought, maybe she was the President's mistress and felt threatened? (That was not true. The President's mistress was a secretary in another building.) Either that or it had to be a moralistic thing.
The President called Kiki into his office early, maybe because he didn't want anyone to see her in the waiting area. He spoke to her very formally and looked displeased. It was hard to believe that this was the same man who had fucked her at a party a year ago or had sucked on her tits while crying and enjoyed a blow job from Kiki just two months ago, when he thought he was in trouble.
"Kiki," the President began, before Kiki could start talking. "I told you that more gifts would be coming and you got them," and it was true. Envelopes stuffed with cash gifts from grateful alumni had been deposited in her mailbox since the distinguished Doctor Viku Dicae left campus. "So I don't know what more you can ask of me."
"Mr. President," said Kiki, not quite knowing how to address a college president, especially one that she had once sucked off, "that's not why I'm here. I got all the gifts and I am grateful. The alumni have been very generous with me. I do think I earned it but I am quite satisfied."
"So why are you here?" The President was stone-faced.
"Because with all these money gifts and what I've saved up, I'm all set. Now when Dicae was here," she practically spat out his name – he had screwed her butt off and it was never the same again – "I sat in on his classes and the seminars he wanted to sit in on, because I had to be close to him." This was so she could run sexual interference with her own body if he started making moves on the coeds. "I understood just about everything. Really. And I got good grades in the year and a half I went to State." State was the public university in the nearby city, where all the townies went. Obviously the students and the faculty at the prestigious College looked down on State, but it was really an ok school.
Kiki took a deep breath. "So what I'm asking is that I can pay my own way and I have the grades so will you let me go to school here?"
The President stared at her for almost a full minute, so long that the hair stood up on the back of Kiki's neck. "Kiki, are you serious?" he finally said.
"Yes." the young woman squeaked.
"Impossible!" he exploded. "You're not prepared! You can't qualify to be admitted! You must be joking!" The look on his face told Kiki that it was hopeless. He would block any possibility of her getting in.
"Is it because I'm promiscuous?" Kiki asked, boldly.
"Well," said the President, guardedly, "promiscuity is not the issue. And the College" here he was speaking as if he were the entire venerable institution, "appreciates your service in taking care of the needs of a certain visiting professor." The visiting professor from hell, he could have added, if he had seen him Kiki's point of view. "Promiscuous behavior was a great help in that situation. But it would create certain....problems if we admitted a known whore into our academic community, especially when all the students know about you. Can you imagine what the parents and donors would say?" Then again, the alumni had said what they thought, hadn't they?, with thousands of dollars in cash gifts to Kiki in generous appreciation for her sexual services to the College. Now that was never going to be an article in the alumni newsletter!
Well, they might be standing in line, Kiki thought to herself. The parents might appreciate that Kiki was a sexual lightning rod, diverting attention away from their daughters. The donors might be all too happy to get a little nookie and a flattering comment about the size of their dick to help them decide on the size of their gift. You didn't mention the faculty, Kiki thought, half of which she'd already fucked. The other half was gay, straight females or men she hadn't gotten around to yet.
"Excuse me sir," Kiki said with exaggerated politeness. She had nothing to lose and no more illusions. "You are wrong in your use of words. I'm not a whore. Whores do it for money and the john knows up front what it's going to cost. A whore does it for business, fixed price. Sluts do it because they like it, and if a guy enjoyed our company and our body, he can be as generous as he wants. We're sluts, my kind of promiscuous woman. We do slutty things in pubic and in bed and guys reward us for it. They love their wives and girlfriends but that's all the time because it's a relationship, built on trust and love and support. With us it's different. Guys love us when they want to, not all the time, and they don't want to support us as much as they want bragging rights, so they give us ridiculously generous gifts which we keep, bank, sell, or pawn. That's me! It's important to keep these things straight for tax purposes."
The President stayed silent after Kiki's long explanation. He had nothing more to say.
As Kiki got up to leave, the President broke his silence. "Kiki, I would appreciate it if we didn't see any more of you on College property again."
So now Kiki was not only rejected, but she was banned. Nobody from town ever got into the College – it was a class thing more than a money thing. People from town worked for the College, they didn't study there. And Kiki was the town slut! The College community was happy to fuck her and share her and pay her to use her own body to protect their own virgins (so they thought) but they wouldn't dream of sitting next to her in class. She was promiscuous and working class. Their students may have been promiscuous but ..... well, it was different for them. They were just having a youthful adventure before settling into their upper and upper middle-class lives.
Kiki didn't care if the secretary stared at her as she walked out because her dream of making a breakthrough for the townies was over.
At the entrance to the College's Administration Building, she took out a cigarette and lit up under the No Smoking sign. She grinned her trademark smile tightly, with the ends of her mouth curled up and her lips tense, defiant.
Kiki was normally a very upbeat, positive person but she was thoroughly bummed out by what happened. Her brusque treatment at the hands of the President just brought back her resentment at the College for just throwing alumni money at her and expecting her to go away after she tore up her guts satisfying their pervy visiting professor's ass fetish. Enemas to clean her out and Dicae's monster cock to fill her back up. Semen in buckets deposited deep inside, over and over. Her bowels didn't get back to normal for a week. No consideration. The College thought it was all OK if they threw a few thousand dollars at her. But they showed no respect for what I was doing for them. No appreciation. Kiki was spiraling down into a deep, black funk of resentment. She was not her usual self.
When Kiki was feeling blue, she naturally went to sex for relief. A good fuck would bring her out of it. Damn, she thought. She didn't have a lover booked for the rest of the day, for once. OK, maybe she should just go back home and masturbate. Shit, that seemed lame. She could do better than that. One thing she knew, she needed a drink. She headed toward her favorite bar. It only took her a few minutes to walk the short distance to the Hotel Vincennes but the walk cleared her head. She arrived feeling slightly better but very horny.
She decided that she needed a diversion, something light and fun, to keep her spirits up, like talking to a man trying to pick her up. Even though it was still afternoon, she sat down at the bar, nodding to Stan, the bartender. He immediately produced her favorite daiquiri and she practically chugged it and ordered another. While Stan was making it, she went to the ladies' room. There she unbuttoned the first three buttons on her blouse, took off her bra, took off her skirt, and rolled the top three or four turns before she put it back on, so it came halfway up her thigh. Then she went back to her stool and her drink and handed Stan her folded bra, since she didn't carry a purse there were no pockets in her outfit. Stan shrugged and tossed them into a box under the bar labeled "Kiki's stuff".
About an hour, or two daiquiris, later, a well-dressed middle-aged man in a suit and an expensive tie carrying a scuffed up, boxy black case walked into the bar and sat down at a table. He put the case down on the floor. He noticed Kiki and smiled at her. He was good looking, older, with blonde hair that was graying at the temples. There was something vaguely familiar about the man but she couldn't place him. Maybe she had seen him here before. He got up and went to the bar to order his drink and stood next to her while the bartender, who was studiously ignoring Kiki and who Kiki no longer called Stan, made it.
"Hello," the man said. "You are very pretty. My name's Luke."