Results and Consequences

"Good evening, Mr. Anderson, can I trouble you for a couple of minutes?"

"Of course, Miss Winters, come in, please."

While he hurriedly piled the papers and made room for her to sit, Gerald noticed that she wore another of her militant t-shirts - this one a memento of the 2015 Pride Parade - and that she was chewing nervously her bubble gum as she closed the office door behind her. The aroma of her perfume and breath instantly brought back vivid and fond memories; Gerald also felt a stir in his pants.

"What can I do for you?" He was moving in his chair to sit straight and, unsuccessfully, mask his excitement.

"Explain me this, please." She handed him over a graded paper, her first in his class, with a scornful and belligerent expression.

"Do you think I graded you unfairly?"

"I don't know about unfair, but I poured my heart out in this paper and I hoped for better than a B+, that's for sure! And all those complimentary comments about the research and the analysis of the Bedford vs Canada decision, to then be told my ethical examination is shallow!!!" She was exasperated by Gerald's puzzled expression, but he replied in earnest.

"I mean exactly what I wrote in there, Paula, the paper was a superb research on the decision by the Supreme Court of Canada to unanimously strike down the anti-prostitution dispositions of their Criminal Code. If anything, I ought to keep it in my legal library it's so good. But this is not a law course. And there are a lot more ethics at stake than the security of the sex workers, as you must well know..." he paused, because he knew that he would not get away with that last remark.

"You're kidding, right? You want me to write about MY experiences? Are you a voyeur or something, Gerry?" He let that one slide... he deserved it.

"Not write about it... but let it infuse your reflection. Look, we were commenting Starship Troopers this week in class. Tell me this: do you think Robert Heinlein would have written the same classic in 1968, while we were embroiled in Vietnam, or in 1983, when the stage was set for mutual assured destruction, instead of 1959, deep in the nuclear race?"

"I don't know, Gerry, I never met the guy! Where are you going with this?"

"Good! Even when you're mad, you can still think objectively! You're better than I am! I obviously don't know for sure either, but I don't think so. I always prefer Hume to Kant when discussing choices, because Hume postulates that everyone is motivated in some way, and that always affects our choices. So, just like Heinlein used the History and Moral Philosophy courses in his book to settle some scores with his pacifist peers, use your own soul searching and experiences to reach and communicate your own ethical conclusion, not just the legal one of nine Justices."

She stayed silent.

"Answer me this, then: would you have been just as likely to choose my class if we hadn't met last fall?" That got her wide-eyed in stupor.

"Right... Gerry, you're telling me, in your thoughtful tact, that karma is a bitch. You're heading back to your results and consequences routine. Christ, you hammer that one in class almost every week! How do I relate this to my paper, help me see!!!"

"Okayyy... let's talk security, the very topic of the Court decision you researched so well. Tell me: if a contract of yours goes sour because of uncalled-for violence and your escort activities are 100% legal, do you file a complaint for a rape or for a breach of contract?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb now! And, by the way, do you apply for an OSHA workplace accident if you're hurt?" She was still stunned in silence. "Could one coherently reconcile a capital criminal offense and a workplace safety program?"

"Really! No comment? Than how about family structure? Accidents do happen... how do you deal with pregnancy? Do you write pre-sex agreements just like prenups? Without being unduly prudish, did you ask yourself if a couple can share their life and strive while one or both of its member are in the sex trade business? In reverse, should a deontology code order sex trade workers to forsake emotional attachments until their retirement... as you once so abundantly made clear, to me... and could such a code be conceivable, constitutional or enforceable?" They were both a little choked up.

"Come on! Cat got your tongue? Fight a little! How about equity? Is it fair that dumb lummoxes who happen to be great athletes - and I concede they do work very hard at it - get access to a prime education and to a 31.9 million dollars budget for NCAA teams in our University, while you who are devastatingly beautiful - and God knows what you must have endured to achieve it - must behave as a criminal to benefit from that asset and get educated in the process?"

She raised her hands in surrender. "I get it... OK... stop it, please... but you lost me, Gerry: you were all over the place in that rant of yours; are you telling me you're for or against..."

"I don't know, Paula, but I'm not the one trying for an A+ paper on self-determination and the sex trade. What did I once tell you about ethical conundrums and imperfect choices? You, of all people, are the only one who knows what my imperfect choice was once..."

She finished his sentence "... and what were the results and consequences. Yes, Gerry, I remember." But just then, something stirred in Paula. She scanned around and a playful spark showed in her gaze.

"You really think all our choices have consequences, do you?"

"Yes..." Gerald looked drained.

"You know what? To thank you for your tutoring, I will try to prove you wrong, Mr. Anderson..."

"I beg your pardon?" She was actively looking for something in her purse and now had a lustful grin.

"Mister Anderson, I will be your teacher's pet and, when - and only when - I feel like it, I will relieve that beautiful cock of yours... and that will happen with no expectations and no consequences whatsoever... other than you proving me right at the end of your lecture." She was already in front of him, like a nymph, and Gerald was powerless, and also quite unwilling, to resist her. He was hearing his belt being unbuckled and felt his heart race. He was feeling his briefs lowered and his breathing stopped. He moaned... none could tell if it was a protest or an encouragement.

And then he felt it. Paula... no, Dana... had a glove on her hand and was getting re-acquainted with his large and engorged penis. "What a beautiful thing you have there, Mr. Anderson. Not quite your best asset, but an impressive one just the same!"

"Dana... please..." it was a pitiful attempt and it was obviously not heartfelt.

"I do not recall asking your permission, Mr. Anderson..." she was getting high again, from the buzz of the power she had over him. She missed that. She started stroking his granite-hard cock, slowly, gently, and carried on "... and, judging by your reaction, I don't think I need it. Now, I don't think that the class lesbian twit spending time for tutoring late in your office will raise suspicions, but I still suggest you try to remain quiet... hmmmm."

Her first handjob on him was slow and tender. They both could feel the passage of her glove on the veins and ridges of his gorged penis. His glans felt the gentle slide of the glove, lubricated by its seminal fluids. In almost no time, they both could feel throbbing and Dana got out a tissue to prepare for the upcoming milking. Just as she heard Gerald hold back the yell signaling his climax, she slowed down her tempo instead of quickening and relaxed the pressure of her gloved hand. A little frustration never hurts a cumshot, after all... and then it happened. The first spurts had high velocity and went much further than where she held her tissue and they landed right on her t-shirt, at breast level. Annoyed, she then milked his cock mercilessly and it really soaked her tissue. Gerald looked sated and looked like he was searching for words to thank her. Not a chance.

She whispered, now confident she was in total domination over him. "Wow! Look at how backed up the poor guy was... and the mess you made! Now I'll have to clean up... so I have to concede round one to you, Mr. Anderson. But, you know the saying: if at first you don't succeed, try and try again!"

In fact, she has never really stopped caressing his softening penis, and now she was picking up her tempo and increasing the pressure. There would be no tenderness this time, she was jerking him off to a second climax whether Gerald wanted to or not.

"aaAAAH!" It was still sensitive.

"Sssshhht!" She placed her free hand on his mouth and kept on jerking. "I just can't do this every time, you know... I'm not to blame if you neglect your poor not-so-little dick... so now hush and let me make sure it's properly drained."

They both remained silent for the rest of the ritual. Dana jerked Gerald's cock back to hardness and kept miming encouragement. Gerald was so overwhelmed by what was happening he might as well be dead. Dana used her free hand to caress the soft skin of his cheek. She also gently grabbed his neck... she missed that as well. And then it happened again: HE was the slave, SHE became the puppet. She was jerking him like a blur and, in spite of herself, she rose to his lips to steal a kiss. A kiss of true love, just like the fairy tale; a kiss that brought Gerald back to life and a kiss that was returned with unabashed passion. His mouth had become a trap from which Dana found no escape, no matter how much her tongue searched. He even stole her piece of gum and kept it like a guarded treasure!

She heard him gently moan his climax into their kiss; she also felt the moistness of his cum dripping from her gloved hand. She let go of his cock before her experiment became painful to him... but she could not yet let go of his mouth. They hung on to their kiss until both felt a gush of emotion that could not be denied. "Wow! Whheew! OhGod..." were whispered in unison. Their wet eyes were speaking volumes and remained deadlocked.

Once more, she found it in her to end this. She shut her eyes and spoke, in a playful tone. "All right, Mr. Anderson, I also concede round two. Guess I'll need to keep on trying, then... good night, Mr. Anderson... I need to go home, now." She left and closed the door so promptly, Gerald was not even 100% sure she was properly dressed.

But he didn't care. Just like after their date, he felt alone, empty and abandoned. So much, in fact, that he was haunted by her last remark: was she going home to relieve herself, to rest, or was a client waiting for her? Gerald knew he was jealous but he cursed himself because he knew he had no right to be, and he wallowed in self-pity. The last two papers would wait for later.

---

Paula once mockingly said she passed as the class lesbian twit. The fact is, she played that role to a tee during class. So, of course, as befits her status, she was the last one finishing her final exam on the last day. When she was sure they were alone in the classroom, she slowly walked to lock the door. She then walked beyond the door's viewpoint and motioned Gerald to come close to her with a simple motion of her finger.

For one magical night and now for the past 11 weeks, poor Gerald was nothing more than a possessed plaything under her spell. He once pondered if the spell was Paula's or Dana's and decided it didn't matter. When he was in front of her, him standing in a back row of tables and her sitting in a chair, she mischievously handed him her final essay and taunted "you know I aced this, don't you?"

"I have no doubt, Miss Winters..." and that was not faint praise, as she had indeed proved to be a smart, a fearless and an insightful moral analyst. Both of them kept it hidden from the class, but she had quickly become one of his star pupils.

"So you know that what is about to happen has nothing to do with your grading or my upcoming excellent mark..."

"That depends on what is about to happen..." he really tried to get in on her banter, but the fact that this was their last time was making it difficult.

She had already lowered his briefs and set his massive cock free. It was already hard and pointing upward at her hungry gaze. "Nice try, Gerry... look, I'm having a hard time too, OK? Lucky for me, I can depend on HIM to get us both in the mood... now let's try something different today, if you don't mind."

Now that she mentioned it, Gerald did notice that she did not have her glove on and she fondled his balls, obviously enjoying the feeling of his shaved skin on her fingers and palm. "Hmmm...I missed that... tell me Gerry, have you been good? Or have you finally gotten around feeding this marvelous dick of yours some ass or some pussy?" Her voice was sultry and a little menacing. Gerald gasped.

"Dana... or Paula... ever since last fall there has been only you... and I think you know that."

(Dammit, Gerry! Why must I always be the bitch?)

"Gooood! Now look at me, Gerry." She then locked her gaze into his and kissed the bulbous glans of his hard cock. Gerald was enraptured and he moaned in excitement, as she had never before sucked him. But now... well, it was difficult to judge if more arousal was channeled from her tongue or her eyes. Dana had obviously set her sight on a very sensual blowjob. She never swallowed him whole, as that would deprive them of eye contact. Gerald would always see her intense gaze, loving and lustful, focused on him, while her tongue slowly lapped the underside of his shaft or caressed his glans. He was assaulted by jolts of ecstasy from the warmness of her hand fondling his balls, from the wetness of her tongue polishing his skin and gently tripping on the ridges of his gorged veins, and also the from the feral lust channeled in her gaze.

She did not utter a single sound and let her eyes do the talking. She kissed and even bit ever so softly the nerve ending linking his glans to the rest of his shaft. Gerald was wild and clenching to the desk with all his strength to keep a hold on his breathing. Never had he been so intimately loved before and, behind the bliss, he felt a twinge of agony for not having the right to act on it. Then a huge jolt of pleasure shocked him back to the present moment: Dana had just snuck a finger inside his rectum.

She was still silent and both their loving gaze were locked together. Mindful of the passing time, again she found it in her to end this. She massaged his balls and his prostate a little firmer, she licked his shaft in one warm slurp and finished with a wet kiss on his glans that waited for his orgasm. Gerald, ever her slave, did not disappoint and climaxed on cue, whispering his withheld yell of joy. He spurted twice on her hair and constantly erupted on her lips for several seconds. By the time he regained his composure, her face and both her hands were soaked with his cum.

She licked herself clean and looked wicked doing so. "Mmmmm... you know Gerry, you don't taste half bad... here, you try it." And she kissed him; to her amazement, he welcomed it... all of it: her wet sticky hands on his neck, her kiss, her tongue mingling with his and mixing his cum in their mutual saliva. When she ended the kiss, he swallowed all in silence. They were both blushing.

"Thank you... that moment was pure magic..."

"Thank YOU, Mr. Anderson. You taught me some things this trimester and told me some other things I needed to hear... and during all my time with you, I felt great. This is another VERY, VERY good thing that must come to an end. I trust you still have my number... call me for anything."

(So, this is really Dana talking right now...)

Gerald felt his heart crack a little. "Of course! You take care, now, Dana. Good luck with the remainder of your studies and with your upcoming career... have a happy life." She somehow felt his underlying pain.

Just before opening the door and walking out, she replied, forlorn "... it seems you were right, Mr. Anderson, I guess there are always consequences after all..." and she closed the door behind her.

3. The river

"I'll talk to them, Paula, promise... I'll reaaaally try to get them to see you! Are you sure you're gonna be OK?"

Paula was a little irritated, but mostly tired. "Yes, sis... I'll be fine. And don't force the issue with dad... one shunned daughter is enough. Now will you just go and let the nurse do her job, please?" She forced a smile, mimed a kiss and shooed away her sister, who silently accepted her dismissal. Her departure coincided with the arrival of the duty nurse.

"Good evening, Ms. Winters." The nurse's voice was tender but a little mechanical. It was obvious that, in her round, she had other patients with much bigger health concerns that occupied her thoughts. "I see the scarring is doing great... how about the headache? And are you still drowsy?"

"Since the last round, I haven't felt like puking... which is nice... but the headache is still pounding."

"That really can't be helped, I'm afraid... I see your vitals are all good and stable, so I'll get you some more acetaminophen for the headache. For what it's worth, I've heard we might discharge you tomorrow and your concussion symptoms should have fully subsided by the end of the week. Also, before I go, I have to ask if you're up for an additional visitor."

Since she couldn't leave yet, what she really wanted was to rest. "Who? Police again?"

"No... a tall young man is waiting outside, a Mr. Anderson. He seems very worried but also made very clear he would return later if you needed some time for yourself."

Her heart leapt... but her excitement was kept in check by a sting of pain from her headache. "Oh! Sure, please let him in... and thank you."

She was taking her pain medication when he walked in, looking like a lawyer who just stepped out of a roller coaster. His collar was unbuttoned and his silk tie was loosened; he looked like he had been wearing his shirt forever. But Paula was disconcerted by the look on his face, a mixture of concern and guilt. "Heeey, Gerry! Here you are and I'm taking Tylenol again... what's with that?"

"Hello, Paula. I'm sorry for the late hour, I got here as soon as I heard and was able..."

"It's quite alright, Gerry. I'm happy to see you but a bit surprised... how did you know?"

"The police interviewed me just as I stepped out of Court this afternoon."

(Crap!!! His business card!)

That revelation was an added hammer to her headache. "Oh my... I'm so sorry, Gerry..."

"Don't fret... I'm glad I got to know about this and it accounts for my being here... but all this time, no one would tell me how you're doing. How are you, Paula? You look like..."

"I've got beaten up? As a matter of fact, someone kicked the merry shit out of me."

"Dear Lord... anything broken? I don't see any drips, just the usual monitors..."

"I've been told it's all big bruises; face and ribs. Plus a concussion, which accounts for my stay in observation tonight... and my headache."

Gerald had moved closer to her and was now holding her hand. "Then maybe I should go and let you rest. I can be here tomorrow to bring you hom..."

"No no, Gerry... please stay a while. In fact, you know what? Why don't you wheel me outside so I can smoke one?"

"Sure... whatever you want." And Gerald, recalling on years of practice, proceeded to help her rise out of bed, dress and get comfortable on her wheelchair. Paula could simply not believe his tenderness and devotion towards her. He rolled her out of the room, informed the nurse and they proceeded to the main entrance. She lit up as soon as they were a couple of feet passed the door.

Gerald stayed silent as Paula dragged with desperation on her cigarette. "Don't look at me like that, Gerry... I really need this cigarette, OK! Not to feel guilty about it!"