Part 2
Shalonda sat gingerly in the hardwood school chair as she waited for Clarice to
come to the point. Gingerly, because her class was now suffering through the
traditional GWU "failure-to-follow-the-safe-sex-rules-horse's-ass" punishment.
The butt plug that held the imitation horse tail firmly in place were small, and
was, in fact, an unannounced yet thoroughly planned precursor to that week's
primary sexual study topic - anal eroticism - but it was still *there*. And that
rock hard seat just drove the damn thing ever deeper. Of course, the fact that
Shalonda had no idea why she'd been singled out did not make her feel any
easier, either.
Clarice watched the tall, beautifully voluptuous Afro American woman trying not
to squirm from the stimulation of the plug. Normally, she'd let the woman deal
with the humiliation and distraction without a qualm. Awareness of her bottom as
an erogenous zone was, along with the object lesson about safer sex, one of the
key points of this particular exercise. Unfortunately, what Clarice was trying
to deal with at that precise moment was anything but normal. She needed
Shalonda's full attention and her full concentration.
"Please remove the plug, Shalonda. For now, it is best that you be able to give
me your undivided attention. You'll have to put it back in after we are done,
but for now, just ease it out.
The toy did not come out any easier than it went in, but it finally came free
with an audible pop. Clarice made a mental note to ensure the anal sex
instructor took a little extra time with Shalonda as she had to be incredibly
tight back there to have made a sound like that. *If there *is* an anal sex
curriculum for this or any other class after this debacle.*
The contortions required for a woman, particularly a mostly nude woman, to
remove her own butt plug tend to make that woman look and feel rather silly.
Clarice could have spared Shalonda that embarrassment by offering to help her or
by letting her leave the room, but she did neither. The woman *was* being
punished after all, and besides, the distraction caused by the removal of the
plug was momentary and would not affect Shalonda's responses.
Finally she finished as looked for a place to put the offending item. "You will
hold it in both hands and pet it like a kitten until we are finished here."
Clarice smiled inwardly at the sheepish look that order evoked. "You know that
there is a problem with Penelope?"
Shalonda's brow furrowed as she looked at Clarice. "What a remarkable question
to ask me, Ms. Clarice. I have not seen her since she got back yesterday. We all
assumed she had been singled out for a particularly harsh punishment since the
rumor is that she sassed you pretty badly and then turned her back on you. She
wasn't in the dorm last night."
"She has been moved to one of the guest rooms in another wing of the school. She
is not being punished, per se, but she is being isolated from the rest of the
class since we finally got hold of her yesterday."
"She is being well treated?" There was an unexpected note of challenge in
Shalonda's question.
Indignation flared in Clarice's eyes. "She is perfectly all right! We are NOT
sadists or brutes. If you haven't figured it out for yourselves yet, everything
we do here is to a purpose aimed at getting you women to open up, both sexually
and communicatively. Of course it's rough, because we have to get past the
barriers and walls we all build supposedly to protect ourselves and we have to
make you try everything at least once. Generally, a person's ingrained
prejudices or irrational fears make doing that damned difficult so we, in turn,
have to press you hard, but we are not so evil that we would really mistreat
someone."
Clarice's voice broke off as she realized she had just used the same word Red
had the night before - mistreated. *Oh my lord, *have* we stepped over that
line? Have we gone so far in pressing our agenda that we have gone beyond mere
pressure to abuse?*
Sexuality and mores are not static facets of any society - rigid and unchanging
through the years. Certainly, the sexual revolution followed by the forced
monogamy of the AIDS generation had opened people up to a much wider variety of
games and play than had existed fifty years before when the school had first
opened. Back then, illicit affairs, or in the case of GWU graduates, pretending
to carry on illicit affairs was naughty enough to get most libidos churning.
Today? Well, the two founders of the Good Wife University might well be shocked
at what the school currently did to their students. Had they, had *she*, Clarice
wondered, gone too far in pressing the envelope with the women?
Finally, she shook her head. There were no answers to be found on that score, at
least, not now. "I am sorry," she said to the wide-eyed woman across from her.
"Your question touched a very . . .tender area. To answer your question, she is
being treated like an honored guest of the manor. Every comfort and distraction
we can provide. She simply is not being allowed the freedom of the compound or
contact with her classmates until we resolve our problems."
"I see." Shalonda said slowly. "But why talk to me, then?"
That brought a smile to Clarice's face. "Because you have become your class'
leader. That is rather unique in our experience, by the way. Usually the de
facto class leader is one of the Mom-types, but your class has rallied around
you. Probably because of the elan you've shown in following the program so far."
"If you say so, Ma'am, but I still don't know why you wanted to talk to me."
"Well, I am hoping that Penelope might have talked to you; that she might have
confided something in you that would point to what has disturbed her so. . ."
Shalonda thought for several moments before shaking her head. "Last time we
spoke was immediately before recess on Friday. She was ready to go home to see
her husband." She thought some more, started to speak and then stopped herself.
"What is it?" Clarice jumped on the hesitation, willing to take anything at that
point.
"Well, it was just a feeling, Ms. Clarice. She didn't actually say anything out
of the ordinary, but . . . ummm. . .she didn't seem excited about seeing her
husband. If anything, she seemed tense. I just put it up to some folks dealing
with emotion differently than other people, or that she was worried about how
he'd react to her homework assignment, but now that you mention it. . ."
"Did you see or speak to her when she returned?"
"Nope. I just heard about her arrival from one of the other girls who was
checking in ahead of her."
*Damn,* Clarice fumed mentally before continuing aloud. "Well, I guess that is
it. If you do hear anything, or if any of your classmates have anything to add,
I would very much appreciate hearing about it. I don't think I am exaggerating
when I say that the future of our entire program may be at risk over this."
"It might help, Ms. Clarice, to know what the problem is," Shalonda offered
quietly.
Clarice considered that, then shook her head. "Things are volatile enough right
now with your class being punished as a group right now. Let me see what else I
can find out before I put that before you all."
Shalonda nodded. "You may go back to class, dear." At Shalonda's frown at the
now dry plug, Clarice momentarily smiled. "You can use my bathroom, dear. It's
over there in the corner, " she said pointing to the closed door. "You'll find
some lubricant in there. Use the facilities and then help yourself. I won't
report you to Tina over this. Not when you were specifically trying to help me."
A slow, very sexy smile lit the features of the lovely black woman. *God, but
wouldn't I love to get my hands on her for a few hours of casual loving. I bet
Red would love watching us, too. I'll have to ask her once she graduates.*
"Thanks, Ms. Clarice. I appreciate that."
Clarice noted that she looked just as good from behind as she sauntered into the
executive washroom off Clarice's office.
~-------------~
Clarice knocked on the door and upon being invited to enter, walked into the
luxurious guest suite. Normally reserved for visiting graduates and their
husbands, or for financial supporters, the four-room, three-bath suite looked
more like the penthouse of a five star New York City hotel than a college
visitor's accommodation. Throughout the suite, every piece of furniture and
accessory, every piece of artwork had been chosen for maximum luxury, maximum
sensuality, maximum image and maximum comfort. Of course, since this *was* still
GWU, just about every toy and sexual aide used at the university (which meant
just about every one in the known universe) was hidden somewhere in one of the
bedrooms, bathrooms or public rooms.
That was not, however, something Clarice thought that the current occupant of
the suite either needed or particularly wanted to know. Not only would she not
appreciate that facet of the suite's design, but she might very well refuse to
stay there quietly if she did know. Which would pose yet another problem Clarice
would be hard-pressed to solve since there really wasn't any other place on the
old convent grounds to keep her. The only other option was to put her up in a
hotel in the outside world and *that* certainly wasn't a very sound idea from
the school's perspective. No, Clarice had to keep the woman here, at least until
she figured out what was going on and what she was going to do about it.
She found Penelope seated in the television room, bundled up in a satin
comforter from one of the two bedchambers, staring at the television. The
television, however, was not turned on, which surprised Clarice. The first thing
she had wanted to do when she'd finally gotten out from under the GWU regimen
was to watch all her favorite soaps.
"If you are that cold, Penelope, all you would have needed to do is ask and we
could have turned down the air conditioning," she offered as an opening gambit.
Cold eyes turned on Clarice, almost making her want to recoil. "There are no
clothes in here," Penelope retorted in a completely inflectionless voice. "If
*I* am given any choice at all here in this damnable prison of yours, I choose
not to be nude here anymore. I may even bathe dressed from now on for the rest
of my life, but I will not be nude here on these grounds."
*Well, I can't very well tell her that not providing her with her own clothing
when she was brought her was a careless, unthinking oversight, even though it
was. Hell, no one thought of getting her things out of storage because we've
never had anything remotely like this happen before. Still, she'll only think it
was just one more lie on my part if I tried to tell her otherwise.* Clarice
walked over to the intercom unit and pushed a button. "Front Desk," a
disembodied female voice responded.
"Emily? This is Clarice. Have Mrs. D_'s luggage and all of her other personal
things brought up to Guest Suite 1, please? Immediately."
"Right away, Clarice," was the immediate reply.
She turned back to Penelope and said briskly. "Well, that is that. You should
have your things within the hour. They are currently under lock and key in our
secure storage room, so we will have to wait until the staff can get maintenance
to unlock the store rooms and then unlock your personal locker, but you will
have your things shortly."
"Thank you," was the still utterly toneless reply.
"I'd like to talk to you. We can wait until you have your own things and are
fully dressed," *and armored,* Clarice thought sadly before finishing with, "If
you'd prefer that."
Raw fury blazed in Penelope's normally light blue eyes. "I would *prefer* to be
released from this feminazi concentration camp. Other than that, I have nothing
to say to you that won't be said better across a court room."
Striving for calm, Clarice forced a gentle smile to her lips. "Now, you know
that the contract you signed with us forbids you to take use to court."
A smirk crossed the angry visage. "You and I both know that your contract is
utterly worthless in a legal sense, and if you don't know it, you better go talk
to your precious hubby about it. I graduated pre-law and I have sufficient legal
background to know that you cannot sign away your constitutional rights in a
civil contract." Penelope tossed her golden blond hair. "Besides, even if that
was not the case, your contract includes a privacy and anonymity disclaimer
which is precisely why you will end up in court."
*What disclaimer is she talking about? I'll have to ask Red - about that and
whether our privacy clauses are as weak as she says they are.* "Look, dear.
Something has obviously happened that has offended you greatly. We can fix that
if you will just talk to me. That is really what this is all about, you know.
You have some limit that we have stepped on - fine. Communicate with me and let
me try and fix it."
The angry animation left the woman. "Can't be fixed, Clarice. All I want to do
is get out of here, get this mess out of my way and get on with what little is
left of my life."
"Come on, Penelope. Give us a chance. Look, your husband is coming here to talk
to you after lunch. He signed the contract, too, remember. Maybe the two of you
can work things out if you just gi. . . ."
Clarice never finished her thought because suddenly a nude, raging Penelope was
on her feet, looming over the smaller, seated older woman. "That BASTARD is
coming HERE? After what he did, he thinks he can talk me out of this? HAH!
Coming to GLOAT more like it. You let that sonuvabitch in this room and I will
solve your problem for you, although dealing with a murder on your precious
campus may be even harder on your damned program. Get the hell out of my sight,
bitch, before I start practicing by killing you."
The door swung open and Tina loomed in the doorway. "Just back away from Ms.
Clarice, girlfriend," she ordered in a dangerously quiet voice as she moved
toward the furious woman who threatened her friend.
Penelope moved back before Tina could get her hands on her. Tina moved to
restrain Penelope but Clarice stopped her. "No, Tina. It's all right. Let her
be." She turned back to face Penelope. "I will leave for now, dear. Your husband
will be here in a couple of hours."
She turned to leave. "Clarice?" Penelope's voice brought both GWU staffers up
short. "Don't bring him here. I was very serious. One of us will be hurt. And
Clarice?" The older woman turned now and lifted her chin in query. "I don't
think you have a contract with both my and my husband's signature on it. I never
saw him sign it. It may have appeared to have a signature on it when you filed
it, but I'd look at that before you make too many more promises and grandiose
pronouncements."
A baffled look crossed Clarice's perfectly made up features, but then she nodded
and preceded Tina out of the room. A loud *click* resounded after the door
closed, and Penelope knew that the door would not open until someone else wanted
it to open.
