Christian College Sex Comedy Ch. 26

"She's right on that account," Frieda muttered.

"Who else do you think has been called in?" Vivian inquired.

"Good point; most of us Christina people have or will be carted in," I agreed. "Should I show up with a 2X4 – aka Walking Tall – or a cowboy vest and chaps a la Magic Mike?"

"How about you appear in your school uniform and pretend you are a semi-normal person?" Vivian rolled her eyes and undoubtedly prayed silently. She shoved me into my classroom while I was attempting to kiss Frieda's hand good-bye. As Biology droned on my phone buzzed twice. The thing is, students don't answer phones during class; teachers do.

During the first half of class Mr. Burns' phone rang. He looked at it as if it held satanic powers, but then he probably lectured Alexander Graham Bell about the viability of the Pony Express over any of these new-fangled boondoggles – like phones and smoke signals. When he answered it, he had to shout as he was nearly deaf.

"Mr. Braxton, answer your phone," Burns instructed me. My good buddy Seraphina gave me a worried look. My phone rang on cue.

"Hello?" I said cautiously.

"Zane, go to Ms. Scarlett's office now," Gabrielle Black instructed me coldly.

"Yes, Ma'am," I responded immediately. Yes, Black was head of security here at FFU, and she had the authority to tell me to go pretty much wherever she wanted. That wasn't why I did it, though.

I did it because the woman scares me and not because she could do bad things to me academically. No, I snapped to because if Gabrielle told me to do something or she'd ram the Eiffel Tower up my ass, I fully expected to see Paris in my near future if I didn't act as instructed. My phone went dead and I stood, ready to go.

"Dr. Burns, I've been called to see the Vice Chancellor," I told my teacher.

"Oh," he nodded absently. "Do you need the bathroom pass?"

"No, I'm good," I answered with a straight-face. I headed out, giving Vivian a quick message to her voice mail to update her on my situation.

I slipped into the Vice Chancellor's office carefully. It had been the downstairs library in the Admin Building a week ago, and the VC's precise office was an offset conference room. Ms. Reveal looked to me with a great deal of unpleasantness.

"Have a seat, Mr. Braxton," she directed. I noted her name plate read Ms. Marisol Reveal and she had the look of New Orleans Creole – Haitian mix. I sat and waited for a minute.

"When is my appointment?" I spoke up.

"Dr. Scarlett will see you when she is ready," Marisol glared.

"Okay," I shrugged as I stood up and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Marisol gasped.

"You seem to be under the mistaken impression that what the Vice Chancellor wants matters to me," I said. "I don't know you, her, or her mission here, so I'm going to lunch. Give me a call when you feel like communicating."

"It does not behoove Dr. Scarlett to explain to a student the reason she has been retained by the Board of Directors," Marisol countered.

"I agree; she doesn't have to tell me anything," I nodded. "That still doesn't explain to me why I should stay. I showed up, I waited, you jerked me around, and now I'm leaving."

"I will call Ms. Black again," Marisol warned me.

"Yeah, you keep yanking that chain and see what it gets you," I mocked her. "Right after she makes me pay for my intransigence, she will be coming for you."

"That is preposterous, Mr. Braxton," Ms. Reveal sniffed. I studied her and her desk for a few seconds. I knew what was going to happen if I left and I had nothing against her cat. I certainly didn't want to see hundreds of 'Have You Seen Ms. Mittens' flyers all over campus and I was willing to wager that would be the feline's fate if Ms. Black became pissed with Marisol.

"Is Ms. Mittens an indoor cat or does she wander about?" I asked. Marisol glared in silence. "Jeesh, it isn't going to kill you to tell me that," I griped.

"She's an indoor/outdoor cat," she allowed. I went back to the chair and sat down. They made me wait a while so I slouched and shut my eyes. I don't get enough sleep.

"Mr. Braxton, the Vice Chancellor will see you now," Marisol deigned to inform me. Being a jack-ass, I kept my eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. It took her three more attempts before she came around her desk to rouse me. "Dr. Scarlett will see you now," she said in a clipped tone.

"Oh..." I yawned. "Okay, I need to go to the bathroom but I'll be right back."

"Can't it wait?" she rumbled.

"Try making an actual appointment and I can better handle these things," I grinned. I took my time using the facilities and when I got back, Mhain Reynard, my religious fundamentalist nut rival for freshman class president, was now waiting in one of the seats. She flashed me a glacial look but said nothing.

"Hey, Sunshine," I grinned at the girl. "You look crushingly devastating as always." I could hear Mhain grinding her tooth enamel away. Marisol's headset beeped and she nodded.

"Ms. Reynard, you may go in now," Ms. Reveal said.

"Thank you," Mhain responded sweetly as she stood up and went through Dr. Scarlett's door.

"So, when do I get to go in?" I asked Marisol.

"When she calls for you," Marisol sniffed derisively. I sighed, walked over to the sofa, retrieved a pillow and used it for my head as I laid out on the floor for a nap.

"What are you doing?"

"Meditating, stargazing, praying to Space-Mecca, reliving Christ's time in the tomb, communing with the corrupted elders of Innsmouth, or taking a nap; take you pick," I mused.

"Get up," she hissed.

"Not under my own power, but if you want to try, knock yourself out," I murmured.

My eyes were shut but my ears worked just fine and they told me that Marisol came stomping my way, stopping next to my head. I was gifted by Marisol with three more 'get up's which I chose to ignore. If you can fall asleep in the mountains during a monsoon downpour, you can go to sleep anywhere.

"Mr. Braxton," Dr. Scarlett shook me a few minutes later as she knelt by my side. I hadn't really been asleep but I was curious if she'd nudge me with the toe of her black high heeled shoe (2 inch) or what.

"Hello, Dr. Scarlett," I gave a lazy smile up at her. She had sheer black hose, grey knee-length skirt, white blouse, red marble necklace, and black glasses. Her glossy black wavy hair was pulled back in a spill-over bun.

A lopsided grin was framed by her too red lips (for my taste).

"You have been giving Marisol headaches, Mr. Braxton," she murmured. I sat up; Ms. Scarlett stood and I followed.

"It is more your fault than mine," I said to the good doctor. Marisol bristled.

"How so?" Ms. Scarlett inquired.

"Why am I here?" I countered.

"As a student who has had some disciplinary issues, I was hoping to get acquainted so we could avoid difficulties in the future," Dr. Scarlett told me.

"Had you told me this at nine this morning we would have been done by now," I pointed out. Before following the doctor into her office I turned and looked at Marisol. "I apologize for putting you through so much discomfort, ma'am." We walked through the door; Dr. Scarlett indicated I should shut it and then we took our respective seats.

Again she kept me waiting while she looked over some details on her computer screen.

"You are quite the James T. Kirk in this Undiscovered Country of Freedom Fellowship University," Dr. Scarlett eventually spoke up. I didn't know who that was but I had a feeling it wasn't a modern Christian author.

"Who?" I asked. Dr. Scarlett blinked.

"James T. Kirk, Captain of the Starship Enterprise...from Star Trek," she seemed confused that I didn't know who this guy was.

"Wait, you mean that bald guy? I thought he was named something else," I wondered.

"That's Jean Luc Picard, who was the captain in the second series called Star Trek: The Next Generation," she corrected me. It was somewhat amazing to me that the Vice Chancellor was a science fiction buff. Who knew?

"Oh, wait, you mean that guy that Chris Pine plays?" I thought I figured it out. "Thank you; he is kind of hot."

"No," she corrected, "that is the new series of movies, but it is the same character." I nodded as the pieces slowly came together.

"Ah, the Green Orion Slave Girl," I finally clued in, "and that black babe who later showed up on Heroes." Sensing Dr. Scarlett's exasperation I added, "I remember ladies better than I do men."

"Obviously," she noted. "I did not call you to my office to discuss trivia, Mr. Braxton..."

"Please, call me Zane," I interrupted then, "and I apologize for interrupting. May I call you Victoria?"

"Dr. Scarlett will do," she shook her head. "As I was saying, I asked you here to discuss your integration into this school so that we can avoid some of the problems experienced in the past."

I looked at her; she looked back, expecting me to say something, but I didn't.

"As the sole eligible male on campus, what do you see as your role here?" she pressed on.

"Uhmm, Dr. Scarlett, I am a student here – that is my role. Are you implying that I'm looking for something special because I am a guy?" I questioned.

"Mr. Braxton – Zane, you are a guy, you have remodeled your personal quarters into a bordello, and there is evidence of you having sexual relations with multiple female students," she responded. "How is that not 'something special'?"

"The administration stuck me in the attic, then told me I could set up my room any way I saw fit," I clarified. "The vast majority of my room is set aside for my fellow freshmen to have a place to unwind and relax."

"I've never violated any girl's Purity Pledge, though a few have reconsidered it after meeting me," I admitted. "I've been in a few fights – I'm not proud of that. I did as much as I could do to resist Chancellor Bass – I am proud of that. What she was doing was ten shades of wrong and I don't run away from a righteous fight."

"Zane, I am not condemning you for defending the women in your life, nor for having a healthy libido," Dr. Scarlett stunned me with a lack of blame being tossed my way. I worked that over in my mind until I figured out what was going on.

"So, do you have any recommendations on what I could do differently to fit in?" I inquired.

The problem was, this wasn't about me fitting in. She wasn't lauding my sexuality and she was trying to throw me off-center by the little annoying phone call game, followed by this sympathetic interpretation of my school life to date. I knew she wanted to manipulate me but I didn't know why. I had to get her to tip me her hand so I could figure out what the game was.

"Are you familiar with the concept of Christian Female Tribalism?" Scarlett opened.

"I get the feeling it has something to do with the six framed articles from non-Christian magazines hanging on your wall," I noted. "Also, you are clearly the darling of the Christian media," I added, as I tallied up the dozen other articles attesting to her fame.

"I haven't dedicated my life's work for the sake of popularity," Dr. Scarlett smiled (sure, right). "I am looking into the relationship between Jesus Christ's teachings, men and women. My research has led me to believe that women exist in a more spiritually pure form when solely in the company of other women."

"Where do men fit into this picture?" I questioned.

"Men provide the ultimate guidance, of course, as well as their roles in procreation and raising male children past the age of eleven," Dr. Scarlett related. "Women are happiest and most effective when they form their own networks and hierarchies."

"You don't date much, do you?" I had to ask.

"Mr. Braxton, I have lived a chaste life in pursuit of my studies," she answered.

"Outside of your father, Victoria, have you ever lived under a man's guidance?" I wondered. It was a calculated move to use her Christian name.

"It is Ms. Scarlett, Zane, and I have relied on a variety of pastors for spiritual guidance over the years," she stated.

"Okay," I stood up, "we have nothing to discuss then." She didn't yell at me as I headed for the door. "You've never been in love and I can tell you have a poor estimation of romance."

"You would be incorrect, Zane; I have been in love but I chose purity over sinfulness," she countered.

"My faith is based on God being love – without reservation, restriction, or guilt. I know exactly where you are coming from," I said with my hand on the doorknob as I looked over my shoulder.

"You are seeking validation for the mistakes you've made over your lifespan and you are willing to sacrifice the young ladies at the school." I was getting angry.

"I was hoping for something better but it seems like a different conductor but the same old music, Doc."

"That is not so," Dr. Scarlett stayed calm. "I am not attempting to drive you or any other student off campus. I am not your enemy."

"That is simple enough to resolve," I nodded. "What is your perfect women's society view and response to promiscuity?"

"Lust is a sin; women should resist sin as vigorously as men," she countered.

"The seven deadly sins are Catholic, not the words of Jesus," I grinned. "In fact, the first list wasn't even created until the 4th century after Christ."

"That does not make them any less valid," Dr. Scarlett offered.

"What is the cut-off date for Bible legitimacy?" I turned and faced her. "1000 ACE? Today, here, and now? Who is to say I can't create new scripture, then?"

"I apologize, Zane," she mused, "but you hardly seem to be someone touched by the hand of God with a gift of prophecy."

"Do I have to lay on hands to prove it?" I beamed. I had finally been able to interject sexual innuendo into the conversation. She didn't respond like a damn normal person – no. Dr. Scarlett stood up, walked around her desk and came to a stop barely a foot from me. I am not so easily deterred.

I leaned into the doctor until my nose was at the crux of her neck and shoulder. I used my cheek to push her hair aside and sniff my way up to her ear. She was really ironclad in her control of her passions. I trailed my nose up to her eyebrow ridge, circled over the forehead, down past the other eye, and over to her lips. We didn't kiss but I did get what I wanted.

"How about I call you Victoria when we are alone?" I tested her.

"No; call me Ms./Dr./Vice-Chancellor Scarlett," she corrected. "You are my student."

"Cool," I shrugged. "Is there anything more for us to discuss?"

"I would like to discuss my plans for this school and the role I think you can take on," Scarlett persisted.

"We've had that discussion – I chose a messy democracy over any sweet-smelling dictatorial existence," I declared. "Your belief system stands for the denial of self-determination."

"It does not, Zane. If anything, it gives women more power over their lives," she explained.

"But the basis for your system retains men in charge, with the added 'benefit' of women being more removed from the critical decision-making processes," I replied patiently.

"Don't you enjoy being in charge of so many women here at FFU, Zane? You have certainly convinced dozens of women to do what you want, even to their own detriment," Dr. Scarlett drove her point home. I laughed; I couldn't help myself.

"I might enjoy being in charge if any of the women would give me the opportunity, Victoria. Honestly, I allow the women here to safely experiment with their sexually," I explained. "Thing is, I really don't mind because I help these ladies become more comfortable in their skins, with their desires, and allow them to share things they have discovered about themselves. If I was with only one woman, what peer could she talk to? You've put your blinders on to the fact that women want to examine those urges they all have," I proposed.

"They don't surrender to lust; they acknowledge it, explore those frontiers, and then decide how to use that knowledge," I continued. "Most of the women in my life here don't lose their virginity. I think by challenging their Purity Pledge, they become stronger in their convictions. I'm not taking any choice from them; they are exercising their own will concerning their bodies."

"If you deny the male role in the Christian relationship, doesn't that emasculate you?" Victoria asked, and I noticed she didn't chastise me for using her first name this time.

"I'm not going to fall into the trap of mistaking sexual activity for true masculine activity," I headed her off. "I would like to think I mediate disputes, help with our studies, and protect them physically if needed. I don't like to fight, but I will fight to defend my ladies. So no, I don't feel less of a man because I listen to, occasionally obey, and always try to respect women."

"I see your point, Zane, and I will give it some consideration," Dr. Scarlett lied to me.

"Oh, wow...that condescension was unwarranted, Doc," I shook my head. "You would never accept that I could be the man who would alter your lifelong path. You have an unrealistic expectation of what that man would be like but it allows you to pursue your goal without male guidance and still be a good Christian woman."

"So now you think I am a hypocrite?" She gave a patient smile.

"Nope. I think you believe the theory you are selling, Vic. You are clever, attractive, but somewhat annoyed that your looks give your ideas less credence though you still use your looks when needed. You are manipulative because you are sincere and you want to keep the argument based on rational discourse, not passion."

"That would make you my opposite," she observed. "You embrace your gut instincts and allow your emotions to override what you think is the safe course of action. It is a pity you perceive me to be your enemy; I thought we could do great things together."

"You are the enemy, but you are not the bad guy; I respect those who have faith, even if it is faith in something I don't agree with," I pointed out.

"You believe women are better off without male interference in their lives. I believe there is nothing better in Creation than a man and woman in harmony with one another," I stated.

"Don't you believe in safeguarding these young ladies' souls?" Victoria pressed on.

"If the ladies were children I could understand your interference," I countered, "but they are adults, capable of making adult decisions, and you do them a disservice by stealing their destinies from them."

"You see yourself as a better alternative?" she remained serenely calm – that's so hot.

"Lady, my life is a mess," I grinned. "I have a hard time figuring out what I'm going to do much less what I should tell someone else to do."

"But you are making the decision that my solution is the wrong one. How do you justify that?" she countered my grin with a smile of her own.

"Just because I don't have the right answer doesn't mean I don't recognize the wrong one when I see it," I reposted. "As I said earlier, we have nothing to discuss."

"Very well," she allowed, "but please tell me what the whole sniffing thing was about."

"It was more than sniffing, Dr. Scarlett. I was looking for your pulse reaction, sweat, what kind of perfume and body soap you use, as well as facial tics and eye dilation."

"That is certainly odd," she pointed out.

"Well, it tells me you are a mid-thirties virgin who likes feminine things. Your skirt is finely woven wool, your shirt is silk, and your cross is 24 K, as is the necklace, with a real ruby inset. Your bra is a black half-cup, which is very nice if you are wearing a white shirt. Lastly, you are wearing stockings, not pantyhose."

"Since neither you nor Ms. Reveal is a lesbian, you are wearing these clothes for your own enjoyment because you are not interested in any man right now," I told her. "You are still holding out for your Mystery Man which is oddly romantic for someone who denies romance."