Nancy Porter's Journal: Endgame

"I loved you!" I told Monica, who hadn't so much flinched after I hit her, and simply stood there crying.

"I love you Nancy" was what I heard Monica croak as I ran down the path, but I didn't answer, stop or even hesitate. No turning back for me now. Not now, not ever.

4. Getting something I'll never forget.

I arrived promptly ar seven o'clock that evening, and was greeted by the Professor himself, who greeted me with a warm hug. I thought I could feel that log between his legs press into me as he squeezed me tight. So unlike him to show me affection in this way, but yet I suppose that with what we were going to be doing later, what's a little familiarity?

He brought me into the bar himself and I started to get nervous, wondering where Monica was. Luckily Monica appeared momentarily and played bartender. She looked a little rough around the edges, but made me a regular vodka and tonic under my careful watch.

The Professor apologized profusely about the previous encounter and assured me that nothing like that would happen again. I told him that I hoped it wouldn't because I didn't like that one bit.

"No no no dear" the Professor assured me. "That was simply horrible, and we felt very bad about that, didn't we Monica?"

Monica nodded that she agreed although her eyes never left her glass,

"In fact, tonight is going to be very special" he informed me. "Nothing like that other night my dear Nancy. Quite the contrary, I think this will be something that you'll never forget."

"That's good" I told him.

Monica made me another drink and took me down to the other room, or should I say "the studio". I looked around for the cameras and tried to figure out where the camera angles would put them in the room. Monica shaved my pussy with a trembling hand, and for the first time the Professor watched in the room while she did.

After she finished, I ran my hand over the silky smooth mound and complimented her on a nice job. It was then that Monica went over to the table and grabbed a water bottle and handed it to me. I gave her a dirty look as I took it from her, preparing to "accidently" drop it.

"Drink up" Monica said while doing a little nod with her eyes.

I took a little sip and sniffed around the bottle. Hey, their water didn't taste so bad after all! I tipped the bottle up high and drained almost half the bottle while the Professor, apparently satisfied, called Monica and together they left the room.

Leaving me on the bed, center stage so to speak. I was nervous, but in a way I was looking forward to this. Maybe this is what what meant to be for me all along. How bad could this be?

The lighting changed a little bit, making it darker in the back and brighter down her near the bed. I heard noises and saw Monica coming down toward me. She was holding that collar and cuffs that I had worn months ago. She put the collar around me and cuffed my wrists to it while whispering.

"Please Nancy... just go. Please?" she cried.

I got up and staggered around the room, almost crashing into the wall before Monica caught me. The Professor was coming out of the darkness, wearing the same hood and mask thing he had worn before, along with a matching black bathrobe. A real flashy entrance for the Professor, I had to admit.

I let Monica lead me where she wanted, which was apparently on my knees over next to the mirror. That must have been where one of the cameras was stationed, behind the mirror! I sputtered out some drunken sounding gibberish as the Professor came toward me.

He let the robe fall off his shoulders and there he was, naked and very ready. That thing looked even bigger than I remembered it being, swaying out in front of him like a baseball bat. At the base of that colossal thing was a black studded ring which was so tight it was making his cock turn almost purple, and the harness below it made his nuts look as big as tennis balls.

He was only a foot away from me, and his cock was oozing sperm as he stroked it slowly while he got closer. That mushroom head looked as big as an apple, and I tried to figure out how I fit that thing inside my mouth last time. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me close to it, rubbing the slimy crown across my face.

"Here you go Molly" the Professor said, calling me that for the first time. "Open wide and suck on my cock dear, because this night is going to be special, very special indeed!"

I ran my tongue around the head, trying to get it moist so that I could take it in easier. The Professor was not in a waiting mood, and pulled my head closer to him while I tried to get my lips over the puffy ridge.

"Take it Molly! Suck it! Take my big cock into your little mouth" he implored me while forcing my head even closer.

I don't know what he was expecting, that somehow I would be able to put that whole thing down my throat, but I managed to get the head in, feeling much like a pig with an apple in its mouth. I felt proud of myself, and that was all I was hoping for anyway. I don't know what the Professor was hoping for, but I'm reasonably sure that what he got wasn't it.

"OH! Hey, that's... Molly.... not so... NANCY!!! FUCK NOOOO!!!!"

That's what I thought he said anyway, but I was way too busy sinking my teeth into that pecker of his to remember exactly what he said. I do know he made some absolutely spine tingling screams, and he actually helped me by punching me in the top of the head. That got my teeth sunk in for real, so then he began slugging me on the side of the head.

One of those punches to the temple succeeded in knocking me off of him, sending me tumbling to the side. It also gave me a concussion as well, because everything got real strange to me. I recall looking toward him while trying to get up, which is not an easy thing to do when your hands are cuffed behind your head.

The hood kept me from looking at his face, which I really regret. The one thing I didn't miss was him frantically trying to squeeze his cock, which was spurting blood like a fountain. Man, do those things bleed!

"You fucking little cunt! I'll kill you!"

That howl made me stop admiring my handiwork long enough to see that the kindly old Professor had grabbed something from a chair, most likely the first thing he saw, and was coming at me with it. The vacuum pecker pump! If I wasn't half out of my mind by that point I would have laughed, but I guess that once you've tried to remove a pervert's pride and joy, everything after that seems kinda surreal. I was still trying to get up and get away when I heard another unearthly scream.

Monica came charging at him from behind and jumped on his back, scratching and clawing at his hood and generally acting like she probably wished she had years ago. Together they spun around, with Monica finally pulling the mask off and doing serious damage to the Professor's face. It looked like she was trying to remove his eyes from their sockets as he finally tripped over the corner of the bed and they went down in a heap.

I got to my feet as they were rolling around on the floor, and I kicked the Professor in the head with my bare foot before running out the back door. Ziggy and Roy greeted me when I got upstairs, although the sight of their trusty sitter naked and covered with blood freaked them out, sending them scurrying for cover.

I went over to the phone and knocked it off the cradle, and managed to hit 911 with my nose. While the struggle raged on in the basement, I gave the operator the address while trying to figure out how to get out of the house. I put my hip into the sliding glass door of the deck and managed to slide it open.

The only decision left to me was to stay there and wait for the cops or go out into the night air. Only 20 degrees or so, with a couple inches of snow on the ground. From below I heard the Professor screaming for Monica to help him, that he was really hurt badly. I didn't hear Monica respond, so when I heard some thumping noises from the basement I headed out into the winter blast.

Since it was a very fancy neighborhood, they got there really quickly, and when they saw my bloody naked self out in front of the house with the collar and cuffs on, they knew that it wasn't going to be just another call.

5. Sorting it all out

I know that I ended up in the back seat of a police car wrapped up in a blanket while they went into the house. While I sat there shivering despite the heat of the car while trying to answer the policeman's questions, an ambulance came into the driveway. I was pretty messed up at the time, so I'm not sure what I was asked and what I said.

Somebody from the ambulance took a look at me and told them I had to go to the hospital too, and there was eventually a little convoy of ambulances lined up in front of the stately Martin home.

I was diagnosed with a concussion and stayed at the hospital overnight, under police guard I might add. At that time, I think it was assumed that I had assaulted the Professor, since initially that was the story he was telling between screams.

His first instinct was to save his own ass, so he told them that I was some girl that would come over to have sex with him, but had gotten mad at him and took it out on his poor pecker. That story was obviously not going to stand up to any scrutiny and when Monica spilled her guts about the Professor, I guess he caved in somewhat.

My mom came to the hospital after they contacted her, and was given a brief summary of what they thought had happened before she was brought in to see me. I was still groggy but I do remember her first words to me as she cried at me bedside.

"Why didn't we let you get those implants?"

It hurt when I laughed but it was so like her that I couldn't help myself.

"Dad said they would attract the wrong kind of people" I reminded her.

6. My fifteen minutes of fame

I wish it was only fifteen minutes, but it's been months and it hasn't calmed down all that much as far as I can tell. I stayed in the hopspital overnight for observation, and the next day got grilled by the police. I told them the truth despite how stupid it made me seem, and I guess they tore the Professor's house apart after that.

The Professor underwent surgery to repair the damage I had done and they apparently managed to save his dick, although rumor has it it won't function quite like it did, vacuum pump or not. It may not matter anyway, as he is said to be in a bad way mentally and emotionally. He was said to have had problems of that kind already, so I might have just pushed him over the edge.

I guess I'm glad about not biting the thing off like I had initially planned. In the end I just wanted to hurt him, and make it all stop, as well as keeping him from doing that to anyone else. Mission accomplished, or so it seems.

The story got very little attention in the local papers initially, and what was printed was very vague and certainly had none of the details of what went on. Unfortunately, a couple of days later, the shit hit the fan, and while I guess it had to come out eventually, who expected it to come out like it did?

I had been transferred to this boutique funny farm after being released from the hospital, supposedly so I could get some rest and recover. Good thing too, because it couldn't have been much fun around the Porter's house when the papers broke the story Monday morning. As usual, nobody does it better than the NYC tabloids, and the infamous picture that made me a household name greeted millions of readers.

"TEACHER GETS TRIMMED BY TROLLOP!"

That headline was a hoot, but that picture of me was the real attention grabber. My eyes rolled back in my head and blood all over my mouth, captured by the camera over by the wooden rack, I believe. I think it was when I was trying to get up after the Professor had knocked me out, and I look really demented. The other tabloid had the same picture but a different headline.

"TEACHER'S PET?"

What was worse was that in their haste to get the story out there, they got it wrong. First day they told how I was screwing the Professor to get good grades, and then they had me as being part of a devil worshipping cult. I guess that picture did make me look like a vampire in a way.

"MOLLY BARED HER FANGS!"

They caught on that I was Molly, and then things really got crazy. In addition to more pictures from the final night, readers were now getting sanitized shots from the website with their morning coffee. Now it was told that the little slut Molly got fed up with her pornographic financial arrangements and took it out on her employer. The fifty bucks I had gotten each week for dog sitting was very generous, or so I had thought at the time.

The website? Apparently it got overwhelmed initially and kept crashing, as everybody in the world wanted to get a more intimate peek at me. Eventually, it got fixed and was able to rake in the bucks from all of the free advertising. Multiply that when the national tabloids got the story out in their next issues. Amazingly, they got closer to the truth than the legitimate papers did.

It took weeks for the actual story to get out there, about the lonely virgin who was being blackmailed and extorted against her will, and by then who knows what people were going to believe about me?

7. Where are we now?

My old man got me a lawyer right away, who's a decent enough guy. Actually he's a lawyer who's doing a lot more public relations work than anything else, trying to make me look better in the media and portraying me as the naive schoolgirl who had been deceived. He's also fielding offers from the talk shows, as well as possible book deals and movie offers.

We have a good rapport, and he tells me pretty much everything that's going on regarding me. He got an offer from the most successful adult film company in the world, saying they would give me a million dollars to film me losing my virginity. I'm going to pass on that one because I think I've had enough of being a movie star.

Same for the talk shows, although I would love to meet Oprah. I just want to disappear, and go back to being Nancy. Problem is, it isn't going to happen.

The lawyer says my father wants him to track down the people who ran the website I starred on. At first I thought the old man was going to go kick their asses or something noble like that, but it turns out he wanted to get me some of the money that was pouring in.

Not much chance of that, according to my lawyer. He says that the company is located somewhere overseas, and trying to follow their trail is like trying to catch the wind. Although he says he's going to try, he told me not to hold my breath.

Besides, the Professor has a contract with me. Along with copies of my driver's license that he made while I was probably "occupied" at his house, to prove I was of age, they found contracts that I supposedly signed that prove I was an actress and doing everything willingly. I don't remember signing anything, so who knows where he came up with that.

One thing I asked the lawyer to do was to find out how the pictures of that final blood bath found their way into the newspapers. He told me that everything had been confiscated by the police that next day, and that none of the film had made it to the owners of the website. Therefore, it was pretty obvious where they had gotten the photos. He suggested it would be better to just let that part of it go.

The lawyer said that my father is pushing him to press charges on the Professor and Monica, and asked me how I felt about it. I would have to spend months in a courtroom, testifying about everything that went on, stirring the whole pile of shit up again. Even then, there would be no guarantee that much would come out of it, other than having my face in the news even more.

My lawyer did say something that I found amusing, which shows you where my head is at these days. He claims that the district attorney has gone after the Professor and Monica in a big way over one aspect of the whole sordid mess, and they are really condfident about it, because they have proof on film.

Providing alcohol to a minor. At 19, I was two years short of the legal drinking age. It's like getting Capone on tax evasion in a way, and when you consider what the Professor did to me and others, it's pretty lame. The problem is that like me, nobody else that ever got caught up in the Professor's game wants to revisit that part of their lives, especially when they saw how public it would be for them.

No, I want it to end. The old man insists my lawyer file a civil suit against the Professor so at least he would lose his chamber of horrors. Maybe, but not if it gets my face out there again.

Everyone assures me that I was exploited and taken advantage of, and I guess that's partly true. Problem is, it always takes someone willing to be the victim, and that was me in spades. My attitude and personality helped make me an accident waiting to happen, and for that I blame myself, but I'm working on that part of me.

8. Where are we now?

Monica. Love of my life Monica. She did the right thing and spilled her guts about the operation they had run over the years. In doing so, she managed to implicate herself it a rat's nest of shit, and I guess she wasn't kidding when she admitted doing some vile stuff. Monica will be going away for quite a while, or so I'm told. I still have feelings for her, and probably always will, but I won't be keeping a candle lit in my window for her.

Richard Martin. The Professor, or should I say ex-Professor, might go to jail for a little while, if he gets out of his rubber room that is. Between his physical problem and his emotional condition I think he's going to be out of action for the foreseeable future.

Mom and Dad. Mom's been really supportive every step of the way, and I feel horrible that they got dragged into this with me. Dad's business really took a beating when this all came out too, and he changed the company moniker to get the name Porter out of the title.

Mom told me that they're having a few problems of their own as well, although that was not exactly news to me. What was news was Mom confessing to me that one night at home she was playing at the computer and visited the home page of "my" website. Just curious, she said, and just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

She figures Dad must have been curious too, because the site was on my Dad's visited history list when she got even more curious. Quite a curious bunch, aren't we Porters? They got into a major row over that, and have been keeping even more separate lives than before. Let's see, on top of everything else my mother and father have been checking out the porn site I'm on. No wonder I have five therapy sessions a week here.

The one person that has come to visit me a couple of times is Chantel, "Pam's" real name. She's been incredibly supportive, and can't stop apologizing for the part she played in this. She thought I knew what I was doing and was just a great actress. I keep telling her not to feel that way and besides, that night with her was the first real sexual experience of my life, and it was fantastic.

Greg. My great Stowe experience, and the boy I almost gave in to, wrote to me soon after everything went down. My heart skipped a beat when I opened it and saw who it was from.

"Dear Nancy (or Molly)" it read.

"I saw your picture in the paper and I freaked out! You are so cool! I told everybody that I knew you and described everything that we did, but most of them don't believe me. Could you send me a picture or something, and mention the stuff I did to you?"

This is the guy I fell for? I got a copy of the front page of one of the tabloids and signed my first autograph, and added that if I was ever looking for a guy with the world's tiniest dick, I knew where to go. He can show that to all his friends if he wants.