Christian College Sex Comedy Ch. 10byFinalStand©
*If I love women, I'm straight; and if I love men, I'm confused; does being Bi make me greedy?*
Thank you Frontma for burning the midnight oil on this one.
(Yes, this tale is supposed to be somewhat humorous and outrageous too. While not always comedic, I'd like to think it is mostly a good-natured romp.)
We were late heading out of the dorm so, under Rhaine's watchful control, the group jogged toward the dining hall. As we made the final approach, Rhaine grabbed my arm. Rhaine, Joy, Mercy and I slowed down while the rest headed in ahead of us.
"What are we going to say?" Rhaine hissed in a panicky voice.
"I was childish, blocked the door, and you caught me sneaking down a fire escape," I suggested.
"You will get in trouble," Rhaine said with utter confusion.
"I can take it better than you can," I related.
"I don't understand. Why are you...all of you, doing this for us?" Joy asked.
"Because," I snorted, "we are the good guys." They clearly thought I was a nut but going inside cut off the conversation. "Besides, I need to do something that's going to be rough on both of us."
The Smartest Girl on Campus
Looking back on things, that first Monday when it was only Rio and I realizing what I was became the only time I entered the Dining Hall or Assembly without being noticed. First I had been a novelty, now I was the freakish center of the storm. I sort of held my reactions in reverse; the hateful looks my enemies gave me made me laugh while the hopeful looks my allies gave me scared the hell out of me.
I was dwelling on that quirk in my nature when I reached the spot my gang was sitting; we had our own location and the majority of the school had given it their blessing. Weird? Only the Class Presidents had their own preordained spots. Speaking of which...
"Hey, Jungle Boy," Rio teased in such a dangerous way that I felt my balls crawl up into my body. "Iona nominated you for Freshman Class President."
"Ha, ha, ha," I joked dryly, then looked to Iona. She couldn't meet my gaze. "Iona, why? Why didn't you at least ask me first?"
"I knew you would say 'no'," she replied softly, then she looked up with more determination, "but I know you would be a great Class President."
"Don't sweat it, Zane," Rio chuckled. "You need fifty signatures to be on the ballet."
"He has seventy-two," Iona informed us.
"Gak! How long have I been out there?" I gasped.
"Nine minutes," Iona smirked bashfully. I looked around the room, humbled and disturbed. You have to remember that there weren't 250 freshmen and nearly one-third had decided that I should lead them; the faculty must be having kittens. I was thinking that over when a previous bit of theater came back to bite me in the ass. A girl I vaguely knew – Arielle, a fellow freshman – put her hand on my shoulder and waited.
It took me a second to clue in but thankfully she and the others were patient. I put my hand on top of hers.
"Thank you," I told her. She smiled and moved away, immediately replaced by another freshman. Over 80 freshmen followed and I could feel the disgust emanating from the head table were Chancellor Bass sat.
Friends like Brandi and Dove came over to congratulate me on my nomination but I realized my more savvy friends stayed away. They knew the struggle I was in for and the very real possibility that even if I was elected, Chancellor Bass would simply kick me out. I'd be going to them for advice and counsel. I guess I might actually have to ask Iona who the Sophomore and Junior Class Presidents were. In fact...
"Iona, who are the other Class Presidents?" I inquired.
"They would be those haughty bitches in pleated skirts," Rio interrupted.
"Funny like a crutch," I replied snidely. "Besides, that describes about half the girls here."
"These would be the ones avoiding you like the plague," Rio snickered.
"Here you go," Iona intervened, showing me two pictures on her phone. "Besides, you aren't that alone; the Science Club and Botany Club both support you."
"Whoop-de-do," Rio huffed. "What are they going to do? Send nasty e-mails and throw clods of dirt on our opponents?"
"Could I meet with them?" I asked Iona, ignoring Rio's snide asides.
"They've both agreed to help with your Solarium," Iona shot a 'that will show you' to Rio, "and you already know the head of the Science Club but I can set up a meeting if you like."
"Make it so," I commanded loftily.
"Zane, if you become Class President Iona will be your Personal Assistant, but what does that make me?" Rio inquired.
"My House Assassin," I suggested. Rio seemed to like the idea – it fit with her violent tendencies – but she wanted an explanation. "You are almost always underestimated, and like me, you have nothing to lose."
"House Assassin," Rio mulled it over. "Okay, but I prefer the title 'Ninja Reaper Angel'."
Rio and I exchanged looks; hers mischievous and mine one of amusement.
"NRA?" I questioned her. "Seriously?"
"Well, I like it," Iona interjected.
"Wait! Wait!" Rio exclaimed. "Ninja Stripper Angel – I could be the NSA!"
"How about Ninja Urban Temptress?" I suggested.
"Hardy har har," Rio snickered, then stuck out her tongue.
"On that note," sounded an exasperated Iona, "let's go to class. Hanging out with you two is lowering my IQ." Rio and I shared an awestruck look.
"Did our little girl just make a funny?" Rio wondered.
"They grow up so fast these days. I blame the internet," I responded. Iona hit me before taking her tray and standing up.
"Ow! Why didn't you hit Rio?" I questioned.
"She's incorrigible, Zane, but I expect better from you," the little raven haired beauty lectured me, but with a compassionate smile. I looked to Rio but she stuck out her tongue again and left as well.
I was still dealing. I had joined with Elizabeth (a neutral in the power struggles going on) for my Handmaiden's Duty, which turned out to be a question-and-answer session on the Bible.
Though I have had numerous sexual misadventures, I can't forget that this is a Christian institution of higher learning and people like Elizabeth treat it as such. I was sure she knew about me and the duties I had performed previously but she felt she was doing her duty as a senior classman to educate me. I didn't mind in the slightest; if I said I didn't know, she'd enlighten me and move on.
Now I know I'm not the brightest guy on campus but I was quick enough to realize that someone had hacked my phone and switched up things on my calendar. Somehow Cordelia Dresden had appeared as my next 'mistress,' replacing Odell Bergdorf who had been moved to Friday morning. I really needed to talk to Iona about this. Now I had to figure out who Cordelia was.
I stepped out to see Ms. Brunette smiling at me and I gladly smiled back.
"Hey, Zane," she beamed.
"Hey, Ms. Brunette," I joked. I had never gotten my very first Mistress's name but I thought she was pretty fun. She was looking at me expectantly.
"I would really like to do...whatever...with you but someone's screwed up my schedule and now I have to find someone named Cordelia Dresden," I told her as I motioned us outside.
"Wouldn't you rather spend time with me?" she asked hopefully.
"Yes, absolutely, but that wouldn't be fair to Cordelia, or true to our school traditions," I sighed. Ms. Brunette tilted her head a bit and seemed to be assessing me.
"Zane, I'm Cordelia Dresden," she teased me with a smug smirk.
"Great!" I exhaled. "What did you want me to do for you today?"
"I'm not sure; you are the one who wanted to talk to me," she taunted.
"I...what...you are the Head of the Science Club?" I groaned.
"What," she giggled, "I'm not geeky-enough? I apologize, but I had my braces off my senior year in high school and laser eye surgery last summer."
"That's not fair," I protested. "I was thrown off by your lack of a hunchback and your excellent bathing habits. Besides, where is your pack of nerds speaking in techno-babble? I cry foul."
"Fair enough," she giggled, "I admit to my clever obfuscations. You've nailed me; I'm helpless and at your mercy," she bit her pinky finger and batted her eyelashes at me.
"Are you going to think less of me if I break down and cry in frustration now?" I sobbed.
"I don't know," she jibed, "if I say 'no' will you invite me to your place tonight?"
"Tonight is really not good," I groaned. "Could we make plans for next week?"
"Oh, come on...I'll make sure you don't regret it. Let me come by tonight...around seven," she faux-pleaded. My look went from regretful to peeved.
"Okay, you can stop making me look stupid, please. I get it; you are much smarter than I am," I conceded. Of course, in the process of getting my Solarium prepped for habitation I would have to get the electrical systems fixed up so Iona had enlisted the Science Club.
"I'll forgive you if you kiss me," Cordelia grinned. Since our first kiss had been pretty intense, I was going to have to really work on it to make this one even better. Our book bags slipped to the ground, which was the signal for every girl in the vicinity to slow down or even stop so they could see what was developing.
Last time I had kept the kiss to her lips; this time, everything above the waist became fair game and as I cradled her back and laid her out before me in my arms. I took to her chin, then her neck, the top of her sternum, then center of each breast. I let my kisses step down to the top of her skirt, then I reversed course until I reached her lips. We exchanged a long look, then I went in for her tongue and lips.
"Mr. Braxton!" snapped a female voice of authority I didn't know, and for a moment I thought me and Ms. Dresden were about to get schooled in the worst possible way. Cordelia rolled her head back so that she was seeing the world upside down while I looked right at a teacher I didn't recognize.
She looked to be late 30s, early 40s, dark blonde hair, sort of tastefully moderate upstairs with slightly larger hips that spoke of childbirth and some maturity. Who she was and what she taught – a total mystery.
"Mr. Braxton," she repeated, but now a hint of mischievousness snuck into her 'Voice from on High' tone, "hands above the clothing at all times."
"But..." I started to plead.
"Dr. Topaz Larson, Language Studies," she informed me.
"But Dr. Larson, the other girls don't have to." I tried and failed to keep the humor from my plea.
"That's because they are girls, Mr. Braxton," she smirked, before taking a half-turn and walking ahead of us to lunch.
"I think I'm in love," I sighed.
"With me?" Ms. Dresden giggled a third time. I was still dipping her, after all.
"We'll see," I responded in a husky, passionate voice, "but right now I'm in love with fighting the system," and I went back to kissing her.
Before I entered the Dining Hall for lunch I asked Cordelia to do me a favor and let her get inside ahead of me. I wanted to give Rhaine a warning that something bad was coming though I didn't supply the details. As I made my entrance, I made sure that the spare key was with me. I retrieved my meal and joined my crew plus Cappy, Opal, and Brandi.
"Excuse me," I shouted as I stood on my seat and waved my arms around. "Excuse me..." I waited for something akin to silence. "I found a brand new spare key to my room outside my door this morning." There was some murmuring at this piece of news. "Apparently, every freshman has been issued one. So would each of you please check to see if yours is missing; I'll return it. Thank you."
The quiet discussions around the hall picked up as the implications of what I had said sunk in. Here was an opportunity for every freshman to get access to my room but also the implication that some of them had been left out. Before any student could make up their minds, Ms. Marlowe came storming up to me. I already knew her angle; it was what I would have done.
"You need Administration permission to make a copy of any campus key," she stated. "Now give it to me," she demanded.
"I can't do that," I countered. "I know you aren't a freshman and only Chancellor Bass can assign a new one."
"Do I need to call Coach Gorman over?" she threatened me.
"What is she going to do, beat me up some more? Christians don't live in fear, Ms. Marlowe, they bleed for their beliefs," I taunted her. Ms. Marlowe ground her fingers into her palms but at the same time, Christina appeared beside us and extended her hand, palm up.
"Give me the key, Zane," Christina demanded. I didn't hesitate for a second to hand it over.
"Here you go, Ms. Marlowe," Christina stated. "Make sure you give it to whoever sent some girl to sneak into Zane's room. I have no idea why anyone in authority would want to sneak a woman into a man's room but I am sure they do." Ms. Marlowe angrily grabbed the key.
"I hope this resolves the matter," Christina continued, then, "Zane, you can sit down. I'll deal with this matter."
"Of course," I responded. With a slight bow of the head I turned and resumed my seat.
"Boy, that was humiliating," Rio joked.
"Yeah, I think I did pretty well this time around," I agreed.
"No, dumbass, I was thinking how humiliating it is that you lied to the freshman class, telling them they all had keys to your room," Rio pointed out.
"Oh, ye of little faith," I grinned conspiratorially to Iona, who blushed and kept working on her phone.
"Oh, you two little bastards," Rio growled playfully. "Come on, tell me!"
"It was all Zane's idea," Iona whispered. "I thought it was stupid at first, but now I think it is pure genius. He is not only going to change the lock on Saturday – he's changing the whole door into a keypad locked steel door. Everyone has individual combinations for it, which can be blocked as needed."
Rio stared at us for over a minute.
"You will – of course – give me that neat little ability; right?" she threatened. "I've got such great plans for my little playmates in Zane's Xanadu."
"Sisters to the end," I told Rio, then we bumped fists. I opted to hug Iona instead.
It was ten until 7:00 and Rio and I were vaulting out of my car and speeding to the dorm when Coach Dana Gorman stepped out of the shadows to block our progress.
"Stop where you are and let's keep this simple," Dana announced.
"We'll use small words so you can keep up," Rio taunted the woman, but Dana merely smirked. Dana had zero respect for my friend.
"Let's see your bags," Dana ordered. On campus, civil rights did not apply.
"Jahwohl ein Gruppenfuhrer!" Rio gave the Nazi salute while I groaned.
"Cut it out, Rio," I interjected before Dana could respond, "she's only doing her job."
"Yes, but her job is to drive a spike through my frontal lobe and cut off your nuts," Rio retorted.
We still handed our book bags over, then spilled out the contents of my pockets (Rio had to spill her purse, small as it was). Dana found nothing, of course.
"I imagine we should search the car next, unless you care to tell me where you put the contents of your latest run," Dana continued.
"I've already smuggled it onto campus, Coach," I stated evenly. "This was more of an operation to draw your person on the inside out, and I'd say it worked very well."
"Then we go search your room," Dana grumbled. Rio snickered, which made the Coach growl at her.
"Seriously, if you were running an operation like this, would you store it at your base camp?" I asked Dana. She didn't visually react but I could see I'd made my point. "You have been given bad intelligence by the Chancellor. You spent ten years in the Marine Corps, including two years in Marine Recon, while I'm an eighteen-year-old kid. Neither one of us believes I'm keeping one step ahead of you on my wits alone."
"You have to get it right every time while I need to get lucky only once," Gorman pointed out.
"Or you screw up one too many times and your skanky ass gets fired," Rio sneered. "I'm sure you'd do gang-busters as a cross-walk guard or a corrections officer."
"I don't want to see you fired, Coach; the girls on the teams like you. You do a really good job and you care about this place. I know you think I don't belong but that is really the only problem we share and I can live with that."
"Take your crap and go," Dana told us in a cold, even voice. As we did so and walked past, without turning to me she asked, "Where did you get the key?"
"Rhaine. The Chancellor gave it to her. She didn't tell me but I know it was her," I replied.
"How did you know it wasn't me?" the Coach wondered.
"Dana, you are head of Security here; you would never risk distributing keys to my room. You are all about containing me and if Christina couldn't keep me in check, I know you would have zip faith in Rhaine doing so. I respect you enough to know that," I explained.
"Very well. But next time a key shows up, bring it to me," she ordered.
"I can't do that, Coach; we are at war and I owe it to my allies to win. I'm sure you can understand that," I told her.
"We are not at war, Mr. Braxton. Don't exaggerate the situation," she shot back.
"The second you told Cappy it was okay to beat up Rio in the hallway, it has been war. It is not our fault your side has been too stupid to understand that," I growled back.
The Coach didn't respond but headed her way while Rio and I headed ours.
"Burning Bitch Flesh," Rio gloated, "smells like victory!" As we stepped into the elevator she asked, "Did you really know it was war from that first day?"
"You and I, Rio, until the bitter end; I wasn't going to leave you and I don't give up gracefully, so beating them was my only other alternative," I pledged.
"You and me – the bitter end," she said softly, then gave me a hug. Then she punched me in the shoulder because she's not the weepy, hug-you kind of girlie-girl,...not at all. When we stepped off the elevator, we spotted Barbie Lynn and Cappadocia standing watch over my door.
"Don't be late to your own party," Cappadocia joked. "Iona's been frantic. She keeps calling but neither one of you answer."
I pulled out my phone, only to discover it had been muted. I glared at Rio.
"That would be because I cut off the ringer on my phone," then Rio looked to me, "and Zane's."
"Which reminds me, Cappy; could you manage to give Rio some private Karate lessons?" I inquired.
"Hey! Why can't you teach me?" Rio grumbled.
"I've never taught a lesson in my life and I only have two years of experience," I answered.
"Does Barbie-luscious have to take any? Iona?" Rio snapped.
"I took Karate my first three years; I'm just concentrating on Soccer this year is all," Barbie informed Rio.
"Iona has already agreed to lessons," I smirked back at Rio.
"I'm not going to do it," Rio declared petulantly.
"I can't wait for Iona to put her down," Cappadocia told Barbie Lynn. "She'll make me so proud."
"Rio, you haven't won a single fight since you came here; it doesn't have to be Karate, or Cappadocia, but learn some way of defending yourself," I pleaded. Rio glared at me.
"Fine, I'll think about it, but I make no promises," she muttered.
"I'll count that as a partial victory; let's go upstairs and see how crazy Iona has become," I said.
As it turned out, Iona wasn't too crazy, had everything in order, and blamed Rio for my delay – life was good. I also discovered there was a new term on campus; girls had been 'zaned,' and 'to be zaned' meant an upperclassman had given you some chore...like singing popular music, reciting poetry, or some other far more romantic/humorous task than previous years had put up with.
Freshmen were beginning to recognize hardcore traditionalists and would scurry to a friendly 'neo-Handmaiden' for a duty to avoid the oppressors. Things were getting to the stage where the freshmen began preparing tasks in advance to make them more appealing to the 'good' upperclassmen. They were posting sound tracks, dance tracks, literary and poetry readings, and some even acted like newspapers, doling out the daily news between classes.