tagExhibitionist & VoyeurThe Hard Body's Continuing Education Ch. 06

The Hard Body's Continuing Education Ch. 06


Chapter 6: Cumming Home And Moving On

Cori left St. Thomas reluctantly, but the closer she got to North Carolina, the more excited she was about meeting with Mr. Harris. Victor, his friend, had said the dean of the business school was a decent man who just liked to have a little fun with the coeds sometimes. A formalized deal with someone like her would allow him to take less risks by messing around with the other girls and could offer her a substantial amount in return.

She was nervous, but also confident. With her new outlook, she knew she could say no or be firm in her demands and guidelines. She was going to be no one's whore. She would be making the calls, saying what was and was not OK. That was her plan, anyway, and she was determined to make it work.

She was still wearing the same outfit she had been wearing when she left the resort in St. Thomas. It was a light blue St. Thomas tank top with a deep scoop neckline and a pair of tight navy blue athletic shorts. She wore no bra and she wore a white g-string under her shorts. She wore white tennis shoes, but planned to change into heels when she arrived on campus. Given the nature of their meeting, the only inappropriate attire would be wearing too much clothing. He had seen her application which included her sexual history. He had seen her R-rated pictures and X-rated video. For her to present herself as anything but sexy to him would be a foolish charade. She wasn't in the mood to play games. This was going to be an honest, open negotiation in which everything was spelled out as clearly as possible. She had her limits and demands in mind and she told herself she would not compromise. And, unlike when Miles, Victor and Sam had broken the rules of their agreement in St. Thomas, she wasn't going to make exceptions or accept violations this time.

When she got off the plane, Cori went into the restroom at the airport and changed into a pair of white stiletto heels. She also rolled down the top waist band of her shorts, showing a little more of her belly as well as the "whale tail" of her thong in back. She kept her hair down and put on fresh lipstick. When she emerged, she saw a man holding a sign with her name on it. She must have walked past him the first time.

"I'm Cori Banks," she said, walking up to him. He was dressed in a tuxedo and Cori realized he was probably a limo driver hired to take her to campus. Well, apparently Mr. Harris was as intent on making a good first impression as she was.

"Hello, Ms. Banks," the driver, a young African American man said. "I'm Anthony. Mr. Harris asked me to pick you up and take you to his office. Do you have any other bags besides that one?"

"Nope, this is it," Cori said, handing him the bag.

"Right this way, then, ma'am," he led her to the nearest exit where his car, a black stretch limo, waited. He opened the door for her and she climbed in, aware that people were looking at her, probably trying to figure out if she was a celebrity. She felt a little like one as she fell into the huge back seat. There was wine, bottled water and fruit. She took a bottle of water and some grapes and leaned back, stretching her long legs across the seat, thinking, "I could get used to this." But she reminded herself not to get caught up in the wining and dining because they sure as hell only wanted her for the sixty-nining. She had to remember that they needed her as much as more as she needed them, even if she didn't really believe that to be so. That was her only bargaining chip and she was going to cling to it no matter how much they tried to take it away.

The airport was actually about 50 miles from the small city that was home to BJU, so Cori enjoyed a relaxing ride, munching her grapes and flipping through some brochures about BJU that Dr. Harris had prepared for her. She loved the look of the campus with its rustic-looking buildings, green quads and beautiful architecture. It looked like a place she could fall in love with and she couldn't wait to see it in person.

When they arrived on campus, she was dropped off at an impressive looking building that appeared to be some sort of administrative center. Two people were waiting for her. One was a young man Cori assumed was a student. He was dressed in khaki slacks and a nice button-down shirt. He smiled at her and shook her hand as she stepped out of the car. She looked for any hint that he knew why she was here and why she was getting out of a car like this, but if Dr. Harris had tipped him off, he showed no signs. Instead, he promptly stepped to the back of the car and took her bag from Anthony. The other person was a young woman who also appeared to be a student. She was pretty with long red hair, dazzling blue eyes and a warm, friendly smile along with a trim figure. She wore khaki shorts with a white button-down shirt hanging loosely and low heeled sandals. Nothing about her indicated that her relationship with Dr. Harris might be anything but professional, yet Cori found it hard to believe the man wouldn't have made advances toward her, given his obvious preference for attractive coeds.

"I'm Sandy, Dr. Harris' personal assistant," the girl smiled, extending her hand. "Welcome to BJU, Ms. Banks."

"Oh, you can call me Cori," Cori shook her hand.

"Very well, Cori," Sandy smiled. "If you'll come this way, I'll take you to see Dr. Harris. Darren will bring your bag. We weren't sure if you were planning to spend the night, but we'll make sure your bag gets wherever you're going."

"Thank you," Cori said, realizing that she wasn't at all sure if she'd spend the night or not either. She looked around at the campus, its lush grass and trees and classic buildings bathed in a warm splash of yellow sun. It was a beautiful October afternoon. There were students walking back and forth, strolling from one building to another, hauling their book bags, sipping their coffee or sprawling in the quad. It was full of activity and looked like a lot of fun. Cori found herself really hoping she could find a way to make this work.

"This is our central administration building," Sandy said as they entered and Cori got a good look at the impressive entryway with the cathedral ceilings she had seen in the brochures. "Most of our university officials, including the deans, have offices here. Dr. Harris has an office here and another in the business building. He's expecting you, so you may go on in."

Sandy held the door open for Cori and she entered the large office. Sandy and Darren remained outside. Cori looked back, watching their faces to see if they might have a smirk or sneer or some other expression that would indicate they knew why she was here and what Dr. Harris wanted from her. Again, if they did, they didn't show. Maybe he really was as discreet as he claimed. She hoped so. That would be a good sign.

As she walked in, Dr. Harris rose from behind his desk. He was tall, athletically built with gray eyes and light brown hair that was thinning and beginning to gray at the temples. His face was friendly and he smiled as she approached, extending his hand.

"Welcome, Ms. Banks," he said. She noted that he didn't look her up and down or leer at her. That was surprising and refreshing.

"Thank you," Cori said. "It's a pleasure to meet you Dr. Harris. You can call me Cori."

"And you may call me Bob," he said. He pulled out a leather chair at the conference table in the middle of the room, motioning for her to sit down.

"Thank you," Cori said, taking her seat. "And thanks for the limo. I didn't expect that."

"We treat our special guests as well as we can," Harris said, taking a seat at the head of the table. She was in the first chair to his left. She liked the fact that he wasn't hiding himself behind a large desk, wielding his power. He was meeting with her on an even level. Another good sign.

"Special guests?" Cori asked.

"Of course," Harris said. "You're very special. We have many guests with special gifts here. Athletes who can perform amazing feats. Authors who have written prize-winning books. Musicians who have performed on the greatest stages in the world. We appreciate special gifts here, Cori."

"But I don't have a special gift," Cori said.

"Oh, but you do," he smiled. "You are not only incredibly beautiful, but you know how to show it, how to display yourself, how to draw the line between exploitation and pleasure. You bring untold pleasure to men and only ask for what's fair in return. There are many beautiful women, Cori, but few who understand what that really means."

"I'm not sure I do either," Cori said, "but thank you, I think." He spoke so fluently, so elegantly, she thought maybe Victor was mistaken and he was an English professor instead of the dean of the business school.

"You see, it's all about supply and demand," Harris said, finally talking much more like she expected. "Something is worth what people are willing to pay for it. As demand rises, so does the price, especially if the supply is limited. And if you happen to have that supply, well then, my dear, that is what is known as an asset."

"I understand," Cori nodded. She found herself transfixed by his steely eyes that were both warm and distant at the same time. She was intrigued by him and his silvery hair and silvery tongue. She chastised herself for imagining what that silver tongue could do. She gave herself a mental slap to the face, refocusing. She needed to stay alert, on guard and ready to say no.

"My asset is an education at a premier business school," he said. "If the supply is good enough and the price reasonable, I can offer perks such as free room and board, free books, free meals and even a stipend to cover miscellaneous expenses, such as clothes and a car."

"I see," Cori said, thinking briefly about the limo, the feeling of the lap of luxury. Don't get sucked in, she told herself.

"Now I'm a middle-aged man, single, with normal needs and desires -- or, to use the business terminology, demands," Harris said, leaning back in his chair, placing his elbows on the arm rests and touching his fingertips together. "You, Ms. Banks, have assets that I am interested in. All women have them, of course, but you have separated yourself from the competition via superior marketing. You package and display your product perfectly. You make it desirable, a fantasy that might be attainable. You market it very well, using images and videos that boggle the mind. You have convinced me that your product is superior to others on the market and that is worth an extremely high price. If it wouldn't get me fired, this would be a perfect example of a business model to share with a class."

"Thank you," Cori said. "But I want to you understand that I am not a product. I'm not merchandise to be bought and used and sold."

"Of course not," Harris said in a soft voice designed to remove the tension he felt from Cori. "I was merely making a point in the business terms I am so accustomed to and which I know you are familiar with as well. I know this is a business negotiation for you, so I am approaching it that way. I am under no delusion that you came here hoping for the chance to suck my cock. While I hope that you will and that you will derive some pleasure from it, I know that my cock is not my unique selling advantage no more than your brain, though no doubt you are bright and capable of handling your coursework, is your unique selling advantage. Your advantage isn't even that you're hot. It's that you have the skill and willingness to use your body in ways other girls can't or won't. You can demand a very high price for that. My understanding is that you haven't been getting your money's worth, so to speak, in the past, so I hope you will find what I have to offer a significant increase."

"It is," Cori acknowledged. "My concern isn't what you have to offer, it's what you intend to use me for. Sex, I know, but specifically, what did you have in mind? Some people would call me a slut or a whore because I'm willing to trade sex for things. I draw my own lines and so far I've never done anything willingly that made me think of myself in those terms. I'm not willing to start now."

"I understand," Harris said, smiling. He was impressed by her -- not only her beauty, but also her ability to communicate clearly and be direct. The girl was sharp. "OK, here's what I had in mind. First, it's the middle of the semester so you can't start classes until January. In the meantime, I could line you up with an internship at a local company that has had some success in sports marketing. I know you like sports, so I thought it might be a good fit. There would be nothing of a sexual nature involved with that position, I assure you. Just a straight-forward internship for a couple of credits in your chosen field."

"Sounds good," Cori nodded.

"A friend owns some properties and could put you in an apartment until you can get into one of the dorms in January," Harris said. "During the first couple of months, I'd probably let you get acclimated and your only responsibilities would be to me. I would reserve the right to have sex with you at any time, not to exceed five times in a given week. Anything more than five would be an exception and I would have to get your consent. The other five times, no consent would be necessary. No advance notice."

"I understand," Cori said. "I'd like to hear your entire proposal before I make any other comments."

"Sure," Harris said. Obviously, she had nothing to balk at so far. "Well, once you were enrolled, I would get you into a dorm room -- a single one; I don't think it would be a good idea for you to have a roommate. But I would want to act like a regular student about 75 percent of the time. You can wear what you want to class and around campus. The only time you would be required to wear specific clothing is when you are on duty. Sex would play zero part in your classwork. No trading sex for grades or teasing the professors or anything like that. Try to pull that and the deal's off. If too many people become aware of your special situation, eventually word will get out, you'll be expelled, I'll be fired and we'll both lose. We have to trust each other. I can ruin you and you can ruin me and we both know it. I will uphold my end and give you everything I say and will be very discreet. You must also be discreet and deliver on everything expected of you. That's the only way this works."

"I understand and agree," Cori said. "Discretion is no problem."

"Good," Harris said. Then he smiled, "Now, don't forget, college girls can dress pretty slutty sometimes, so don't feel like you have to dress like a prude all the time just because you can. Outfits like you have on right now are sexy, but they will fit right in. I assume you chose that for a reason and I appreciate you not tramping in her dressed like a prostitute and raising suspicion."

"I value discretion every bit as much as you do, sir," Cori nodded. "I'm not ashamed of doing this, but I'm not proud of it either. It's, well, it's just what I have to do. And I'm not ashamed to admit I enjoy teasing and being sexy and having sex. But I'm much more than that. You don't have to care about anything besides that, all I ask is that you respect it."

"Fair enough," Harris said. "Other than service to myself, there will be a few others I trust implicitly who would have access to your services for the betterment of their positions and the welfare of the university. As you know, universities make money off of enrollment, donors, grants and the like. We have a successful sports program that drives a lot of revenue as well. Published and successful professors generate funds. Universities are big business and there is a lot of competition. You represent a potential distinct advantage in recruiting donors, star athletes and securing grants and other funding. Your supply, as it were, is in great demand and I believe we can charge a high price."

"I'm not going to be a whore for every guy who writes a check or signs to play football here," Cori snapped, angry that the conversation had taken this turn. She thought Harris understood her better than that.

"No, no, of course not," Harris said quickly. "Your services would be reserved to influence only the highest donors and most elite athletes. For instance, people like Victor are million dollar donors. He would be a lot quicker to hand over that annual check if he knew you were waiting to give him a blowjob the second he signed it. We're talking about maybe a couple times a month something like this would happen. It wouldn't be a constant thing at all -- but it could mean millions to the university."

"Mmm, go on," Cori said, frowning, still concerned about this latest point.

"I can see you're not happy about that," Harris said, ignoring her directive to go on. "Remember, these would be people with a lot to lose as well. Athletes would lose eligibility. Our high level donors are business people, politicians, important people who won't want to risk their reputations. It will be discreet and safe.

"Now, I'm sensing that you're getting apprehensive about all this, and that's fine. If you don't want to do it, I understand. But I want to give you some advice: if you do this, enjoy it. Forget about defending yourself or trying to decide whether or not doing this or that makes you a slut. And why does being a slut have to be negative, anyway? Guys love sluts, trust me. We absolutely love them. But if you get caught up in analyzing every time you give a blowjob, you're going to be miserable, because I guarantee you, to earn this scholarship and all that goes with it, your will give more blowjobs in the next two years than you have in your life. So, the question is, can you embrace that fact and enjoy it or are you going to hate every second of it?"

"I like it when it's safe and I'm treated with some respect," Cori said flatly.

"Well, I vow that we'll keep you as safe as we can and you most certainly will have my respect and that of the others who would be using your services in an official capacity," Harris said. "That said, I can't guarantee you a millionaire is going to come in and tell you how special and smart you are while he's reaming a piece of ass he earned in return for paying for the naming rights on our new library. And frankly, if he calls you slut, degrades you or fucks you a little harder than you would like, I'm not going to say a word to him. So understand that going in. I won't let someone beat you or hurt you without repercussion, but if he wants to spank you or pull your hair while you're blowing him, I expect you to shut up and take it. And, to my point, enjoy it as much as you can."

Cori was speechless. This discussion had turned very frank and it was no longer a negotiation. Harris was telling her how it was going to be, flat out. "I'm going to need some time to think about this," Cori said slowly, her mind a whirl of confusion now. She wasn't angry. What Harris said made sense, but it scared her. "Could I, um, be excused for just a few minutes?"

"Of course," Harris said.

Cori walked out of the office and out into the quad, plopping down under a tree. She thought about the last few months. All the great times at the shop where she had enjoyed virtually every minute of every day. That was all sex, all the time and she loved. Then, Chad and her step-dad and Crisp and others had nearly ruined it for her. Maybe they had. She had hated the sundae-making race the guys had put her through, but she had enjoyed being publicly flaunted and fucked on the golf course. Maybe it was she, not the guys in her life, who was mixed up. Maybe she needed to see a counselor. That might help, but she knew that ultimately her happiness was up to her. She realized she had often found excuses and justifications for acting the way she did. It was OK to let herself be tied to a boat and fucked because it was helping Gerald. Letting herself off the hook allowed her enjoy it.

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