Fortune Favours The Brave

"Oh... that was fucking amazing," sighed Claire.

Margaret stepped forward, glowering. "Miss Cathcart! Do I understand that, against all regulations and college rules, you have a penis in your vagina? And..." -- she peered a little closer -- "is that ejaculate running down your leg?"

**

I sat miserably in the St Agatha's office. Claire sat beside me, perhaps a little subdued but still seemingly more relaxed about the forthcoming interrogation than I was. Having a really big orgasm a few minutes earlier probably helped. Every now and again she glanced fondly at my groin, where my still erect, glistening penis swayed happily, seemingly scanning the room like a periscope from a submarine.

Margaret and Mabel, despite their unpromising names, were not quite as I had expected. I guessed they were in their early forties or perhaps late thirties. Margaret was dark haired and tall and boasted a really quite awesomely large chest that she clearly found rather inconvenient and embarrassing. Mabel had short, severe hair and a less obviously impressive figure, but she was not unattractive either.

What they both had in common, at that precise moment, was a clear dislike of me.

"We shall of course, call the police," said Margaret. Mabel nodded her firm agreement.

I nodded glumly.

"Your time at this school is over. You also realise that?"

I did.

"As for you Miss Cathcart, your mother is going to be gravely disappointed in you, I know. She is one of our most distinguished alumni -- this is going to be a tremendous blow to her."

"Yes," said Claire thoughtfully.

"Do you have anything to say for yourselves before we start to make the necessary telephone calls?"

Claire and I looked at each other. I shrugged helplessly. Claire just looked at me. Then, to my enormous surprise, she gave me the briefest of winks.

Claire turned back to face her interrogators.

"You're right," she said. "My mother would be terribly disappointed."

She paused.

"And that's why you're not going to tell her."

Margaret seemed to almost double in size.

"If you think, young lady, that we are simply going to dismiss this as youthful high jinks, to sweep this under the carpet.... Then you really do have no sense or respect for the traditions and standards of St Agatha's!"

"Oh, fuck St Agatha," said Claire.

"I BEG your pardon?"

"Or rather," said Claire. "St Agatha's is going to be completely fucked if this story gets out. You'll be the laughing stock of the entire country. The world, probably. Nobody will apply here ever again."

"The word of two depraved, decadent students, set against hundreds of years of tradition and achievement? I think you are severely mistaken!"

"Ah," said Claire. "But you're forgetting about the photos."

Margaret goggled at her. "Photos! What photos?"

"Oh dear," murmured Mabel.

Claire stood up. She walked confidently over to the desk and picked up the phone. She prodded at the screen, then turned and showed it first to Margaret, and then to Mabel.

"The library desk," said Claire. Mabel gasped.

She swiped, showed them the second photo. Margaret had gone pale.

"Boadicea." Now Mabel had too.

One more swipe.

"And finally, our beloved founder, Harriet Milward. I think this is the one that will have a really long life out there on the internet, don't you? Every search for St Agatha's from now on... there she'll be, staring at Dan's lovely, big, hard penis."

I think Margaret actually whimpered. Mabel seemed to disappear into her chair.

There was a shocked silence. Then Margaret reached forward with surprising quickness and grabbed the phone from Claire's hands. She dropped it onto the desk and grabbed a heavy paperweight which she smashed it down onto the phone, once, twice, three times. The phone exploded under the final blow into a hundred plastic pieces.

Margaret looked back at us, triumphant.

"So much for your disgusting and vile photographs, I think."

Claire turned to look at me. She raised her eyes upwards in a questioning manner. I nodded. She smiled. Then she turned back to the two ladies.

"I just have two words for you, Margaret."

She leaned forward and said them very clearly and slowly.

"Cloud. Backup."

Margaret's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh dear," said Mabel again.

**

"On reflection," said Margaret, "we are prepared to overlook this evening's events. But if those photographs ever surface again, in any form, we shall of course have to take action."

"Of course," I agreed. A huge weight had been lifted. Admittedly, I wasn't going to get my money from Rory and the gang, but things could certainly have been a lot worse.

"I think you had better leave these premises now," said Margaret. "We do not expect to see you ever here again. And you will not under any circumstances be contacting Miss Cathcart."

I nodded humbly and rose to take my leave. My cock, still buoyed and perky thanks to its double dose of Viagra and a very enjoyable albeit brief session inside Claire, bounced cheerfully in front of me. All three women seemed quite hypnotised by it.

It seemed to spur Claire into action.

"Well... let's just a wait a minute," she said.

Margaret tutted impatiently. "Miss Cathcart, I do not think you should presume any further on our generous nature. We have made an agreement that is fair to both sides, and that is an end to it."

"No, you've got an agreement that is worth a lot to you, and not very much to us. I think we can even it out a bit. I mean, we could effectively finish this college off for good. And what are we getting in return? Not much if you ask me."

"You are getting your futures back," said Margaret icily.

Claire dismissed our futures with an airy wave.

"Well, I think we also deserve something in the here and now."

"Do you indeed?"

"Dan was going to make a lot of money from tonight's work. Without that money he's probably going to have to leave the school."

"That is not my concern," said Margaret. "And I hardly think we can dignify what happened tonight as 'work'."

"He's very creative, and smart, and he's got a really... I think he'd be a... real asset to our community at St Agatha's."

"At St Agatha's!" Margaret was incredulous. I admit, I was fairly surprised myself. I glanced at Mabel to see how she was taking it. She was still staring at my cock. Her mouth was ever so slightly open.

"Yes... he could be our... head of security. A part time post, while he continues his studies. He could live in the lodge in our grounds. That would save him a lot in rent."

"That is unthinkable!"

"And you'd pay him a small salary, of course."

"Out of the question!"

Claire sighed. She stood up straight. She looked at Margaret for a long, long moment.

Then she lifted her night dress up to reveal her lovely, still moist and delectable pussy.

Margaret stared at it and seemed to twitch nervously.

"I'll tell you what's out of the question, Margaret," said Claire firmly. "It would be out of the question that I'd ever let you eat this little cunt again if you don't agree. And it would be out of the question not to tell my mother all about you. And about all the other girls you like to visit at night."

Finally that got Mabel's attention. She looked at her colleague reproachfully. "Oh Margaret," she said. "You have been naughty."

Margaret seemed to be having trouble breathing.

Mabel returned her gaze to my penis. "Perhaps we should go along with Miss Cathcart's idea," she said absently. "I think having this young man to look after us might be rather nice."

**

It is not a demanding job. A few nights a week I like to do a spot check through the building, make sure that there are no intruders. Sometimes Claire comes with me, and we enjoy reminiscing and re-enacting some of our adventures. She says she only has to see those curtains now to start getting wet. Or sometimes we just go straight to her room and I stay the night there. We even close the door. Take that, Harriet.

Mabel likes me to pop in and see her now and again. She says she's making up for her misspent youth, when she wasted a lot of time studying and reading books.

Margaret tends to keep out of my way, though I wouldn't be surprised if one day I end up making occasional visits to see her too. Claire still sees her every few weeks or so. She says it's best to keep her in a good mood. And she says she sometimes likes to feel a woman's mouth on her cunt, just for a bit of a change.

If there are girls with boyfriend problems or any kind of sexual anxieties Claire will suggest that they come by the lodge to see if I can help in any way. I'm always willing to try, though it's surprising how many of the girls do have those sorts of problems and how long they can sometimes take to resolve. I like to think that St Agatha's is a happier place for my being there.

I bumped into Rory a few days after our little escapade. He was very angry and threatened to tell everybody all about what a miserable failure I was, but I just showed him the picture that Claire had kindly shared with me and he went white and slunk off. I've not seen him again since.

Of course, we were totally bluffing about the cloud backup. That phone wasn't linked up to any account and sadly those pictures are gone forever. But Rory was right about one thing. Sometimes fortune favours the brave, doesn't it?