GWU - Age of Consent

Good Wife University: The Age of Consent

By Tigger

Copyright 1999, all rights reserved

This story is based on the Good Wife University story series posted and recently
reposted to alt.sex.stories by Bobbi Jo. The characters and situations used in
this story are done with the permission of the original author who has read and
approved this addition to her storyline.

The original story series is archived at:

http://www.freespeech.org/bjserotica/mainpage.htm

Although there is not a great deal of explicit sex in this story, it is intended
for adult audiences in localities where the possession and reading of erotica is
legal. If it isn't legal for you to read this, please don't. If you are not
legally an adult, you are not only violating the law, but someone's trust by
reading this.

Archiving and reposting of this story *unchanged* is permitted provided that no
fee be charged, either directly or indirectly (this includes so-called "adult
checks") *and* provided that this disclaimer and attribution to the original
author are maintained.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Part 1

From the darkened doorway to their bedroom, Red watched Clarice, his beloved
wife of so many wonderful years, sitting at her desk. The sparkle and sass that
was part and parcel of her "Good Wife" persona were nowhere in evidence, and her
weary face showed every year of her nearly six decades of life. He wished he
could help her somehow, maybe take her in his arms and cuddle her - and make
everything all better for her - but he knew better. Red had a very good idea
what was troubling his wife, and it was a battle he could only join if asked.
Clarice was fighting herself right now - her emotional, caring side tilting at a
fearsome dragon that was rampaging about her rational self.

Clarice slipped off the half-lens reading glasses she refused to wear in public
- one of her few vanities - and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Come on in,
Red." she said with a defeated air to her, "I know you are out there."

He strolled in and moved to the side bar where he poured himself a light scotch.
Holding up the bottle, he silently offered one to Clarice who nodded. Red fixed
her drink with the confidence of long practice and moved to take the seat on the
other side of his wife's antique desk. "You look tired." he said gently as he
proffered the amber-filled crystal to her. "Penelope?" he asked.

Clarice did not respond immediately, instead choosing to study the dark depths
of the whiskey in her glass before taking a bracing sip of the liquid heat. She
sighed as its warmth did little to thaw the cold knot that had formed at the
base of her diaphragm. Then she nodded, her movements shaky with the suppression
of emotion. "Penelope. She's just raised the stakes, and I don't know what to
do. I have read about situations like this in earlier days at the school, but I
have never faced anything like this myself."

"So what did your predecessors do in similar situations?"

"Things that I don't believe I can get away with in our modern,
litigation-happy, news-as-a-soundbite-at-eleven world."

"Ouch." Red said with an exaggerated grimace.

"Oh you." Clarice replied with the barest hint of loving exasperation. "You know
I was not talking about you."

"Well, since you are concerned about litigation, may I assume that the GWU's
attorney might be of some use to you in this crisis?"

Clarice picked up a sheet of lined notebook paper, looked it over and then slid
it across the desk toward her husband. He reached for it, looking at her for
permission, and upon receiving her assenting nod, picked it up and began to scan
it. The document was written on a piece of spiral notebook paper - likely torn
from one of the notebooks that the GWU students were given to use in keeping
their journals of their experiences at GWU.

"Powerful document," he said carefully, "And dangerous." As much for her benefit
as for his own, Red began to read the paper aloud. Sometimes it helped to hear
an angry person's words so that the emotion as well as the intent could be
understood.

"Good Wife University, May 30, 1999

From: Penelope D_

To: The Good Wife University Faculty, Staff and Whom Else This May Concern.

I, Penelope D_, do hereby inform all of the addressees of this memorandum of my
formal withdrawal of consent to any and all activities associated with the Good
Wife University. I no longer consider myself bound by the contract signed by my
husband and myself, and will consider any attempt to enforce that contract as a
direct violation of my personal, civil and constitutional rights.

In order that there not be *any* misunderstanding as to my intent or meaning,
let me be specific about *some*, if not all, of the activities to which I no
longer give my consent:

Any physical restraint will be considered nonconsensual and will construed as
illegal arrest;

Any touching of my person in an intimate manner will be considered nonconsensual
and will construed as sexual assault;

Any intimacies including, but not limited to kissing, fondling or penetration of
any part of my body with any implement or human body part will be considered
nonconsensual and will construed as sexual assault and rape;

Any use of physical force on my person, including but not limited to corporal
punishment will be considered nonconsensual and will construed as assault and
battery;

Any attempt to keep me at this place will be considered nonconsensual and will
construed as kidnaping.

Should any staff member or person upon these grounds desire to do anything with
or to me, they should *ask* first as the above list is *not* to be considered
all inclusive. Failure to obtain permission first will result in civil and
criminal actions being taken against the perpetrator and the GWU as an
organization at my earliest opportunity.

As of this date, I will no longer comply with the orders or directions of any
member of the GWU. Any attempt to force my compliance will be considered an
attack on my person and I will use all means, fair or foul, physical or
otherwise to protect myself, up to and including the use of force that I know or
should know to have potentially fatal effects.

I will attempt, to the best of my ability, to avoid causing any harm to my sadly
gullible and misguided classmates, but should they interfere in my self defense
against your staff, I cannot and will not hold myself responsible for their
safety at that time. I will attempt to warn them, but since I am currently being
held *against my will* in your solitary confinement cell, that may not be
possible. It would therefore be in your best interests to pass that warning
along to them if you do not intend to heed my warning yourselves.

I wish to leave this place immediately. While you have the power to prevent my
departure from here for the remainder of my sentence. . .excuse me, my term of
education, I will, in that case, bring civil and criminal action against you
immediately upon my final release. Even if you should somehow avoid both prison
and bankruptcy, the publicity, particularly among the fundamentalist types will
effectively destroy you and your vile little school.

Work with me or watch everything you have built come down around your ears.

/s/ Penelope D_"

Red continued to stare at the letter held loosely in one hand as he took another
sip from his whiskey, then he looked up as his wife with troubled eyes. "Quite a
letter."

Clarice leaned back in her executive chair and closed her eyes tightly against
the steadily worsening headache that was starting to feel like a migraine. "Yes,
it is." she answered quietly. "The question is, what do we do about it?"

"I take it that you believe her to be serious about this?"

"Very serious. I spent the better part of the day trying to talk to her about
it, and got nowhere. She just kept saying that everything she had to say was in
that letter."

"I see. And just so I know what we are dealing with here? What are those
procedures you don't think you can get away with in today's litigation-happy
world?"

An almost mischievous grin crossed the face of the GWU headmistress. "We used to
lock the miscreant up in a sensory deprivation suit for a half day or so, and
then turn the senior class loose on her with orders not to quit until their
victim had climaxed at least twenty times. Usually, that worked because it
tended to get them past their prejudices about sex and pleasure - particularly
with other women. The one or two times it did not work we brought in the husband
and had him tell her to act her age and to remind her she'd signed a contract
that she could not get out of legally - really piss her off by challenging her
feminine honor and fortitude. That always worked. Since the sexual revolution,
we haven't had to do either."

"Well, we've had our discussions on the legal defensibility of that contract in
the past, dear. While there has been some movement among the leather crowd,
particularly in California, to give legal standing to D/s slavery contracts, the
simple fact remains that your contract won't hold up in court. Your only
protection, legally, has been and continues to be that you have been given the
informed, adult consent of your students to mistreat them as you do. . . ."

"I beg your pardon!" Clarice came out of her chair, fire flashing in her eyes as
she began to defend her beloved school. "We do NOT mistreat ANYone!" she swore.

"While I agree with you personally, my dear, the only thing that makes that
statement true is that you have the students' continuous concurrence that what
you subject them to ISN'T mistreatment. That," and here Red slide the paper back
across the desk to Clarice, "says that the next time you touch her, you do so
without her consent and then it IS mistreatment. Or as she points out, abuse,
assault, battery and rape. Kidnaping might be hard to prove, but who knows what
a jury would decide. Depends on the way the case is presented. Wrongful
restraint is more likely, but still, a crime punishable by prison time."

"So, we just give up on her? Let her go and say, sorry, dear, if you're gonna be
*that* way about it we'll just pick up our toys and send you home? And, oh by
the way, don't let the door hit you too hard on the ass on your way out because
you might sue us for that, too?"

"It is what she says she wants, dearest. She is an adult. I don't see any legal
way to prevent her from leaving if she is that determined to go. I don't even
think we could charge her if she say, injured Tina if Tina tried to restrain
her. That document has made it very clear what she is doing and why."

"So my only options are either let her go or let her hurt my people, and
possibly destroy my school?"

"I would say it is far more than just a possibility, love."

Clarice's momentary burst of emotion died at that pronouncement and she slowly,
painfully settled back into her seat. "I take it," Red asked softly, "That she
simply hasn't been able to let her hair down and go with the flow?"

"If only that were the case, Red. If she'd been a misfit from day one, well, I
could better understand . . .that." she replied as she slapped at Penelope's
letter. "The truth is just the opposite. We've never, in all my years here, had
a student who seemed so determined to . . . . to be perfect. Never had to tell
her to do something twice, and Tina had to be really picky to find something she
could punish the woman for. Physically, she is in tip top shape, smart as a whip
and as far as her instructors can tell, sensuous as hell. Lord above, she is
even hormonally gifted, Red. If Lucy is right, she orgasmed during her Kegel
muscle training."

"Sounds like a very unique lady, and not one who would ordinarily need to come
here in the first place. Still, if she was doing so well and working so hard,
what happened to cause *that*?" Red asked, again nodding at Penelope's note.

Clarice went silent for a long time, and then picked her drink up and drained
it. "We don't know. She went home for her first weekend last week after having
her husband come here for the first few. She came back late. Told me to fuck off
when I told her she was in trouble and stormed off to the dorm. When I caught up
with her, all of her things were tossed out onto her bunk and she was writing
furiously at her desk. She stuffed *that* into my face before I could get a word
out and then turned her back on me and walked off again."

"Did you read it before or after you sent Tina after her?"

"Before, thank god." Clarice sighed as she poured herself another drink. "So I
told Tina not to use the heavyhanded tactics. Without them, she wouldn't come to
me, so Tina told me where she was and I went to her. Like I said, I spent most
of the day with her and got absolutely nowhere."

"Is she still here?"

"Oh yes. She heard that her dorm leader got the play-kidnap treatment her first
weekend home so she knows that we have people who specialize in bringing our
ladies back the hard way. The one thing she would say to me was that she wasn't
leaving until we promise to leave her alone."

"Again, you know that it is only the consent that keeps your little abduction
scenes from being capital-crime criminal offences. If she doesn't consent,
everyone involved is an accessory to kidnaping and will likely spend a lot of
time in prison."

"Don't you think I know that?" Clarice snapped angrily but she quickly regained
her composure. "Sorry, sweetheart. No, when she leaves, we won't contact her in
any way ever again so long as she doesn't bother us. The only reason I haven't
cut her loose already is that I wanted some time to figure out what happened, so
that I could fix those things for future students. If that is at all possible."

"Any ideas?"

"No, not really. I am meeting with her class leader, Shalonda, tomorrow morning
after breakfast, and her husband is coming to try and talk sense to her tomorrow
afternoon."

"Does Penelope know that?"

"Not yet. I am going to talk to her tomorrow after I talk to Shalonda, and
before her husband arrives."

"Are you going to offer her a bribe?"

"A bribe??!?!"

"Call it a contractual agreement. We pay her so much money if she willingly
signs away any liability against the GWU and promise never to divulge what we do
here to the press, etc.?"

"Would that work?"

"Dunno. I can work something up." Red stood up and putting both hands on
Clarice's desk, stared down at her with a fierce look on his face. "NOW. . .why
don't you come to bed, Good Wife. Your husband wants to work his evil ways with
you. And I don't want you thinking about anything that is not directly related
to pleasing me. . . . . OR ELSE!"

Clarice smiled up at the well loved face scowling down at her, looking so
ludicrous as he tried to appear intimidating. *the darling old fool,* she
thought to herself, *Is it any wonder I adore the man?* "Oh, sir," she trilled,
"I am not sure I am up to satisfying your . . . . beastly masculine needs."

Humor warmed Red's eyes even as his visage became more stern. "Then I will have
to find ways to encourage you to new heights, won't I? Now, get that cute butt
over here, wench!"

Really smiling for the first time in hours, Clarice made haste to get "that cute
butt over there", all the while feeling the phantom tingles and stings back
there that she was certain would soon be real. Red was very good at therapeutic
spankings, and there was no doubt that Clarice would soon be making love with a
very warm, very tender bottom.

She couldn't WAIT!

~--------------~

The next morning, Red sat alone in the apartment he shared with Clarice on the
GWU campus. The coffee was hot and strong, but that was all that could be said
about the filthy brew. One thing a Good Wife learned was how to make a decent
cup of coffee, but Clarice had been rushed that morning so Red, Good Husband
that he was, had offered to make the coffee for them both.

He should have gone to the cafeteria, but had wanted to be alone. He needed the
solitude to think clearly about the current situation that showed every
indication of escalating into a major legal battle.

Red had no illusions about the danger this situation posed. This mess could
easily, if handled improperly, spell the end of Clarice's beloved Good Wife
University. If that came to pass, then the next battle would, unless Red was
very, very good *and* very, very lucky, result in both civil and criminal
proceedings against Clarice and other members of the Good Wife University
family.

The yellow legal pad in front of Red had been new and pristinely virginal when
he'd sat down this morning. It was now half filled with notes and questions a
bare two hours later. One thing was certain. If Clarice could not reach an
accommodation of some type with Penelope by the end of the day, they would have
to give serious consideration to getting the other students out of the line of
fire. That meant sending them home without them completing the promised training
which would probably require some type of reimbursement, but that was better
than having a couple of them get badly hurt in a face-off between Penelope and
Tina or one of the other drill instructor types.

So, on top of everything else, he'd have to get their comptroller to take a look
at their current financial condition.

*You better win some type of concession on this one, sweetheart,* he thought
grimly, *or we may selling this old convent house estate just to pay the
penalties and legal fees.*

With a heavy heart, Red got up and carried the dregs of his coffee to the sink
and rinsed both his cup and the pot. Then he gathered up his notes and headed
out to find the comptroller. *Amazing that they've gone almost fifty years of
doing this stuff, and no one has ever managed to use the consensuality argument
against them. Probably just an indication of the times. Maybe Clarice is right
about the world, after all. When in doubt, sue somebody. DAMN!*

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.

Part 3

"How did you know??" Clarice asked as she stormed around the suite waving a
sheaf of paper in her hand. "Not only is there no signature, but there is no
indentation of the paper where a pen or pencil might have pressed."

Red had accompanied his upset wife this time and had taken a seat across the
coffee table from Penelope. In the time since Clarice had left, her luggage had
been delivered and Penelope was dressed in as sexless an outfit as Red could
remember seeing at GWU.

A turtle neck shirt, an oversized, bulky sweater, baggy jeans and walking boots
covered as much skin as possible. The sweater even hung over her hands. Only her
fine facial features and long blond hair gave any hint that she was a woman and
not an otherwise effeminate adolescent male.

A weary smile answered Clarice. "You forget, I know my husband. He is a very
talented chemist and I know that several of his projects have been for security
or intelligence organizations. I suspect he developed something very volatile
for a purpose like that. Applies it with a piece of tape so that it looks like a
signature. A couple of days later, everything has evaporated and it is like
there was nothing ever there. You might find traces of something if you went to
a very good forensic chemist, but then again, Marshal is very good at what he
does."

"But the document is witnessed." Red put in, wondering if she was as bright as
she seemed.

"True enough, but you're the witness, Red. A de facto if not de jure member of
the organization under assault. Besides, can you really testify that you saw
Marshal sign that document? Of course not. If you had seen him taking pen to
paper, there would be a record of that by the imprint of his pen on the paper."

"But WHY?" Clarice all but wailed.

"Because now there is no record that he ever agreed to me participating in your
little school of sexual perversion and vice."

Clarice bristled and would have turned on Penelope for that slight, but Red cut
her off. "And why would he want that?"

For the first time, it was Penelope's turn to be surprised. "Because he intends
to blackmail me instead. I was going to divorce him. The prenuptial agreement
doesn't give him very much since the company stock was mine. I could have him
out of the president's office within ten minutes of the ink being dry on the
divorce decree and he knows it. He said it was my fault, that I wasn't a good
enough wife and than if I knew how to do that, we would have been happy."

"So he talked you into coming here?" Red asked gently.

"You got it. If I came here and passed," and her look became sour, "we'd try
again. If I knew all this good wife bullshit and I still couldn't stand him,
then he promised not to contest the divorce and to resign his position with the
company without having to be thrown out."

"But aren't you playing into his hands by rebelling like this?" Clarice asked,
for the first time taking a seat with her husband.

"It was never his intention to keep his word. He has a spy here in your little
school. Someone he has paid to keep track of me and take photos of me in various
. . ummm. .situations. Last weekend, he showed them to me. I either stay married
to him and leave him alone, or he passes out the evidence of my perverse nature
to the board of directors. I own controlling interest, but not a straight
majority. In an open fight, it would be very close because some of my board
members make Jerry Falwell come off sounding like a disciple of Teddy Kennedy.
He could very well win complete control of my company. I would still get the
income, but would no longer have any say in how my family's company operates."

"He had PICTURES of YOU???" Clarice all but shouted. "Doing. . doing. . ."

"Really good ones, or bad ones, depending on your point of view," Penelope cut
in firmly. "A really nice one of me walking around with my thumb up my sex - a
couple of others of me washing another girl in a rather intimate manner in the
shower - a few of me in various other sexual, essentially pornographic
situations."

"But that would mean a staff member. . ." Clarice spluttered.

Penelope only stared at the other woman.

"You're sure?" Clarice asked, her voice breaking, "That the pictures were real?"

"They were of me and the other women in my group. If they were fakes, there were
very good. So good as to make no real difference."

Clarice began sobbing quietly in her hands, devastated by the apparent betrayal
by someone she considered a friend. . .almost a family member. Red held her and
then turned hard eyes on Penelope. "All right. I am going to need your help,
Penelope. In return, I will do everything in my power to help you."

"I beg your pardon? Me? Help you? Why would I ever do that?"

"Someone has betrayed my wife *and* you." Red said in a killing voice. "I need
to know who that someone is so that I can deal with that traitor. I want you to
remember, as best you can, what situations were photographed. What classes, what
activities, what rooms and most importantly if you can, which staff members. I
want that traitor's ass."

Taken aback, Penelope looked from Red to the sobbing Clarice and then back to
Red. "All right, I will help you, although what you can do to help me is beyond
me just now."

"Anything at all, except taking the school public because what that would
destroy what we do here. Instead of wives wanting to learn how to communicate
with their husbands, we'd be forever fending off folks who simply want a kinky
experience. We'd have to either close down or become a clone of Anne Rice's
"Eden" resort."

"There are no limits, Red." Clarice interjected, her voice calm again. "This
school exists to help women like Penelope, not to hurt them. We can protect our
other students by destroying our student records, but if we have to go public to
beat this bastard, we will. *NOBODY* uses my school this way. *NOBODY*!!"

"Well, I am going to check out Penelope's story with some contacts I have first,
luv." Red looked from his wife to Penelope. "No offence, m'dear, but if I am
going to destroy my wife's life's work over this, then I have to be *damned*
sure I am on the side of the right and just."

"You are kidding, right?" Penelope asked, disbelief evident in her voice. "This
is just another one of your nasty little tricks to keep me quiet."

Red stood and helped his wife to her feet. "Believe what you will, Penelope. You
will anyway. I will be back once I have confirmed your story. I would appreciate
it if you'd get started on those pictures for me." He started toward the door
and then stopped. "Oh, what do we do when your husband arrives?"

"Do you *really* think he will?" Penelope drawled sardonically.

Red thought about it. "He might, even if you are telling the truth, but I agree
with you. More than likely he won't. Assuming he doesn't have the balls to play
it straight, he will probably call and tell us that he wants to give you some
time to deal with what you've done or some such psycho- drivel." Red gave a
slight nod. "Might be a useful circumstantial data point. Oh well. See you
later, Penelope."

~----------------~ For whatever reason, Penelope's husband called at the last
minute to beg off, citing demands of *his* company.

Red and Clarice sat down with the senior instructors and told them the full
story as they knew it.

"Wow. She really has us by the short hairs," Tina breathed after Clarice
finished.

"Like you have any of those below your neck, sweetie," the magnificent African
princess, Wanda, teased.

"Oh, you," Tina growled before becoming serious. "Still, that just about puts
paid to anything we can do with her if I understand what Red just said. If
laying hands on her at all, short of self defense, is going to be a criminal
offense, then we may as well hang it up and ship her out."

"We can't do that, Tina." Clarice said in a soft, wooden voice. "She is our
student, our submissive if you will, and we are honor bound to see to her safety
while she is in our keeping. Her safety has been cruelly and profoundly
endangered by her time spent here and I will do everything in my power to see
that is corrected."

"But pictures, Clarice?" Lucy asked. "How can we do anything about that? Lord
above, but Tina and I were the ones working with that class during hell week,
and I have no idea at all how any pictures could have been taken. Lord, but they
were all naked the whole week."

A very tired, pained look crossed Clarice's face. The woman seemed suddenly to
show every one of her years. "Staff wasn't nude, Lucy." she said quietly.

A moment of stunned silence answered her statement which immediately shattered
into a cacophony of furious shouts. When it finally calmed down, a crying Tina
stood. "Clarice, does that mean you suspect one of us of this. . . this. . .
rape of our school."

For a moment, Clarice did not know what to say because that seemed to be the
only answer but a few minutes before. Finally, she shook her head. "No, Tina. I
don't know what the answer is, but I refuse to believe that any of us could do
anything so heinous."

"Then how did it happen?" Nancy asked aggressively. "Those pictures got taken
somehow, unless she is lying about that."

"That is a possibility, Nancy," Red replied, "But I am inclined to believe her.
She isn't faking her anger, and from what you all have told me, she did not show
any sign of such anger at any time after the first couple of days even when you
were actively trying to mess with her head."

"So what do we do now?" Lucy asked.

"For the most part, we wait and see if Penelope's husband makes a move. In the
meantime, I will continue my research into the company and other aspects of
Penelope's life," Red replied.

"AND," Clarice said firmly, "We have to talk with the other students -
particularly with Penelope's classmates."

"To find out what they know?" Tina asked. "Why talk to the other classes when
only Penelope's class has had anything to do with her while she's been here?"

"That's not what we're going to talk about, Tina. We have had what appears to be
a potentially catastrophic break in our security. One of our students has been
threatened and that could just as easily extend to our other students. They have
the right to know what is happening here."

"What can they do?" Nancy asked.

"They can leave and disassociate themselves with us. If that is their informed
choice, then we will let them leave with the promise that they can return later,
after this blows over." Clarice answered with a calm she was far from feeling.
"That is, *if* there is a school to return to after this is finished."

"Let them LEAVE???" Tina squeaked.

"Remember what I said about safety. They have every right to that, and if we
cannot assure them of being completely safe here, then we must obtain their
informed consent to continue with them in the program." "But. . .but. . but they
aren't finished yet," Tina protested.

"Be that as it may, dear. We really have no choice."

"But suppose they all want to leave?"

Clarice could only shrug. "In truth, dear, it might be better in the short term
if we could suspend operations and concentrate on this problem. However, safety
is not the only commitment we have made to these young women, and if they elect
to stay, we will finish with them."

"What about new classes, Clarice?" Wanda asked.

"We'll see, Wanda, but I think we may be wise to postpone any new starts for the
time being. Think about how you all feel, please, and let me know. We will, of
course, give full disclosure to our new students before . . .ummmm. . . locking
them in to the program," she finished trying to make a joke about the ceremony
by which husbands handcuffed their wives the day they began their studies at
GWU. The joke flopped miserably.

"Clarice and I will meet with each class tonight after the evening meal," Red
added. "We should have a better idea of where we are tomorrow morning, at least
insofar as continued school operations are concerned. Until then, carry on as
usual. Whatever Penelope's husband is planning, it is aimed at her directly and
only indirectly at us."

With that, the meeting broke up, but the students all noted that most of the fun
and mirth had been taken out of the staff and wondered what had happened to make
them all so depressed.

~-----------------~

"So that's what we know," Clarice finished her fourth such talk, this time with
the members of Penelope's own group.

"What happens next?" Shalonda asked for her stunned classmates.

"That is up to you. . .each of you, individually. We've made a commitment to
every one of you, and to your husbands for those of you who are married. You
have to decide what option you want. Leave now and come back later, or leave now
and say the hell with all this or stick it out. Whatever you choose, my staff
and I will abide by your decision and do whatever we can to support you."

"Do we all have to make the same decision?" One of the women asked.

"No," Clarice said fervently. "You must each decide what is right for you.
Okay?" The nods were less than enthusiastic, but that was only to be expected.
"Very well, then. In your rooms, you will find your clothing. There will be
phones so that you can call your husbands and talk over what we've told you
tonight. After all we've tried to teach you about the importance of
communication in a marriage, the importance of talking this out with them before
you make a decision should be a given."

"What if we want to get out of that damn dormitory?" another woman asked
angrily.

*Well, I guess I know what *your* decision will be,* Clarice thought recognizing
the woman who had been the bane of the staff in this particular class. Clarice
did not believe that *any* woman was innately frigid, but this female had spent
her entire time at GWU giving Clarice cause to question that conviction. She
suppressed a sigh. "You have the freedom of the grounds. If you choose to leave
the house, you will be watched from a distance for your own safety."

The troublemaker snorted derisively, but Clarice refused to rise to the bait. *I
almost hope you do decide to leave, bitch.* "The grounds are unfamiliar to you
and it is dark out," was what she said instead. "Look. There is no point in
trying to keep you from escaping because I have already *promised* you that all
you have to do is tell us you wish to leave. Just say the word and you will be
homeward bound within the hour." She permitted herself the small pleasure of
staring the other woman down for a few long moments before turning her attention
to the other women. "Any other questions?" She looked around and then nodded.
"All right. There will be staff members available to you around the clock. If
you have any questions or have reached a decision or just want to talk to
someone who really knows what is going on here at Good Wife University, just
dial zero from any of the phones and you'll be in touch with one of us."

Part 4

Red and Clarice didn't go to bed that night. After so many years by her side,
Red understood her better than she understood herself in many ways. There was NO
way Clarice was going to lose a student without at least trying to get her to
agree to come back later to finish the curriculum. Clarice might thoroughly
enjoy being the queen bitch when circumstances warranted, or teasing the hell
out of the women or awarding a particularly kinky, sexy punishment-sentence for
some exaggerated offence, but she *believed* in what they did here. Like the
fellow on that hair club commercial, Clarice wasn't only the head mistress, she
was also a customer - a very satisfied customer.

So they were both seated in their little kitchen when the phone rang. Clarice
answered it, said a few words, and then looked at Red. "Shalonda wants to see me
right away, down in the cafeteria."

"You want me to come?" he asked.

"No. She asked to meet with me alone." She stretched, trying to relieve the
steadily increasing tension. "I never thought she'd be one who had to be
convinced to stay."

"I'll be here when you get back, sweetheart." Red promised softly, as he pulled
her into his arms for a comforting hug.

It would have taken a stronger woman than Clarice not to cling to that strength,
if only for a moment, but it *was* only for a moment. Then, she swept from the
room, ready to deal with whatever Shalonda had on her mind.

~-----------~

"That wasn't a story tonight? Her husband is using pictures of what you folks do
here to blackmail her?" Shalonda asked, stirring honey into her tea.

Clarice regarded the beautiful black amazon for several moments. She'd donned
one of the loose fitting, brightly colored, vividly patterned Afro-ethnic pants
outfits complete with matching headgear. If she had looked like a queen in the
nude, she looked imperial at that moment. "I believe it is true, or I would
never have taken the unprecedented step of offering to set you all free."

Shalonda paused to consider that, her smooth forehead furrowed in concentration.
Finally, she looked up. "Clarice. I must speak with Penelope. I have to know the
truth before I can do anything, but it is very important that I speak with her."

"Now, wait a minute, Shalonda. I am not sure that is such a good idea."

"Look, I have to speak with her. I may be able to help you, but ONLY if I can
resolve my questions and she is the only one who may know the answers."

The sincerity in the younger woman's voice and eyes finally swayed Clarice. "I
will ask her."

"Clarice?" Shalonda said as Clarice started to rise. "Alone? At least for a few
minutes? At the beginning, anyway?"

Again, Clarice was primed to refuse outright, but stopped herself. What was the
difference at this point? "I will ask. It is up to her. If she says no, the
answer is and will remain no. Period. Now, you wait here and let me make a call
to her rooms."

~------------~

Fifteen minutes later, Clarice was regretting her concession. She'd been
standing outside the door of Guest Suite 1 for ten of those minutes. *Damn door
doesn't even have a keyhole suitable for eavesdropping,* she fumed quietly.

She was nearly ready to scream when the door opened to reveal Penelope, who
silently motioned Clarice into the main sitting room. She walked inside and
found Shalonda seated in one of the easy chairs. What seemed to be a very forced
smile was etched on the lovely black features.

Suddenly, Shalonda flipped something at Clarice. Instincts developed pleasing a
husband who loved softball took hold and Clarice neatly snatched the small
package out of the air. When she looked at it, her brows knitted in confusion.
The object was a small, silver tube, about the size of a roll of dimes but much
lighter, with the ends founded off into half spheres instead of being sharp
cornered. A thin, almost clear film of something slippery covered the tube, and
a string, similar to those used with tampons hung from one end of the tube.

Confused, she looked up to Shalonda who held up her hands in front of her as if
she was holding the tube length wise and made a twisting motion. Clarice
mimicked the movement and the tube twisted open. A small object fell out onto
the floor. Clarice picked it up and immediately recognized it - a camera of the
type used by covert surveillance types and spies.

"You are the spy." she said coldly. It was not a question.

Shalonda nodded sadly. "Yes, I am, but I wasn't a party to what Marshall pulled
on Penelope here. At least, not willingly."

"I think you had better tell me the entire story." Clarice ordered firmly.

"Why don't you get Red up here, first, Clarice?" Shalonda asked quietly. "There
will be legal ramifications to what I am about to tell you, and he should hear
it all from me."

~--------------~

"I am a private special security agent. I got my training from the government
doing things I would rather not talk about even if it was legal for me to do so.
Marshall D_ approached my boss about three months ago, wanting a female
operative to accompany Penelope into this class," Shalonda began quietly.

Clarice thought she could actually see a change in the woman from the admittedly
sexy but somehow soft-seeming female into a tough, clear-thinking professional.
*How ever did we miss her background?* "What did Mr. D_ hire you to do, and why
you?"

"According to my contract, I had two primary missions. First, I was to protect
Mrs. D_ if, in my professional judgement, your staff went too far with their
little games and she truly became distressed or if I evaluated her to be in real
danger. One reason I was chosen is that I am a highly degreed practitioner in
three martial arts."

"I see," Clarice murmured. "And if you thought someone, say Tina was hurting
your . . your. . .subject?"

"We call them principals, Clarice, but if I thought that? I would have taken
Tina down in a heartbeat and would have had Penelope out of her within the
hour."

"Tina is a trained military police officer." Clarice noted with some challenge.

"Does she carry a weapon? Is she authorized the use of deadly force?" At
Clarice's shocked look, Shalonda allowed herself a slight smile. "Of course not.
She is here to intimidate, not to injure. Whatever skills she may have had have
atrophied over time, Clarice. She'd never have seen it coming. Trust me on
this."

Clarice cleared her throat, nervous for the first time. "You said there was a
second primary mission."

"I was to gather both photographic and eye witness evidence that could be used
against you if, again in my professional judgement, your treatment of Mrs. D_
warranted civil and/or criminal justice proceedings."

The light weight of the tiny camera seemed to gain mass at that moment. "How did
you manage to keep this?" she asked holding the device up.

That brought a husky chuckle. "Clarice, with all the things you people shove
into a woman, you ought to know that there are always places something that
small and smooth can be hidden. You'll recall I was supposedly menstruating that
first day? Behind that fake tampon. After that, I hid it in the place I knew
wouldn't be exercised that day."

"You *knew* what our schedule was?" Now Clarice was shocked. Did she still have
a . . . a. .traitor on her staff?

"Of course I knew. First rule of covert insertion is good intelligence. Don't
let me burst your bubble, dear, but not all your graduates are true believers
and happy customers. We found several who were more than willing to trade
memories of their time here for cold hard cash. I even know that you change
rooms for some of your exercises so that the senior class doesn't expect the
freshmen to show up - like with that nipple clip game of yours. Anyway, even if
I needed both orifices clear, there is a longer string inside the tube. It is
small enough to swallow and the tub itself is acid and waterproof."

Relief flooded through Clarice. "So, none of my staff was involved in this?"

"Your staff? HA! Might as well try to convert the Pope to Communism as to
subvert any of your folks. No, they are clean. Your only security problem is
that you count too heavily on the discretion of your graduates."

"Now wait just a moment, Shalonda," Red interjected. "You can't make me believe
that no one noticed you going through the gyrations necessary to get that out of
your bottom or vagina. I don't care how much our staff like watching, those kind
of movements would be pretty obvious."

A wide grin spread across Shalonda's face. "If that is how I did it, you'd be
right." She turned back to Clarice. "Could I have that back for a moment?"

Clarice passed the two inch long, half inch square bit of plastic to Shalonda
who took it in her right hand. She proceeded to examine it carefully, shifting
it from hand to hand, before, with an idle brush of her hand through her hair,
she reached across with her right hand to return the camera to Clarice.

Clarice held out her own hand, palm up to receive the offering and came up. . .

"Empty??" Clarice said amazed, snatching at Shalonda's retreating hand and
turning it up to examine the empty palm. "But. . .But I saw you . . you had it.
. ."

Red chuckled softly. "Sleight of hand one of your hobbies, too, Shalonda?"

"Just something I learned at the Farm as a CIA trainee, Red." Shalonda said with
a chuckle.

"Okay," Clarice said disgusted. "But you were nude during class, and there was
no nice furniture for you to hide the thing in."

"Okay, I will tell you the secret. Remember, I had a very good idea of what your
program schedule was, so I had a fairly good idea of what days a "Kodak moment"
might occur." Again, she gave that nonchalant brushing of her hair, and then
suddenly snapped a shot off at a stunned Clarice. "So I put my little toy in a
hidden pocket in my 'do."

Shalonda flipped the camera back to Clarice. "Too bad there's no film in it now.
That look on your face was priceless."

"You hid it in your hair?"

"Once I was sure you weren't going to pull me aside for grooming training."
Another mischievous grin split Shalonda's face. "You don't think I wear this
mass of hair because I *like* it, do you? Hell, Clarice, even Roberta Flack gave
up on these huge Afro's years ago. I could hide a small arsenal in there so the
small woven holster for that camera is nothing."

"I see. Then how did you get the film to Penelope's husband?"

Shalonda nodded at Penelope. "In her purse when she went home for the weekend. I
slipped it into her purse when I hugged her goodbye. She was supposed to bring
back a replacement cartridge the same way, but when I checked her purse, there
wasn't any film there."

Penelope spoke for the first time. "He probably didn't need anymore evidence
given what he showed me Sunday night."

"And there was a lot more than the ones Penelope showed me," Shalonda added.
"She . . . umm. . .came during initial strength testing. She is very photogenic
when she climaxes and I got several full body shots of her squatting over the PC
muscle strength test box with the probe up her pussy."

"I still can't believe you were able to do that, Shalonda." Clarice sighed.

"Your people are good and they are loyal, but they are also just a bit
voyeuristic, Clarice. Why watch one naked woman apparently doing nothing when
there is so many more interesting things to watch. Besides, there were never
more than two of your people in the room with us at any time when I took the
pictures - the teacher and maybe a security guard. I am very good at counter
surveillance. I just picked my spots when I knew their attention was elsewhere,
and as you have just seen, I am also very good at playing "hide the thimble."

"Amazing. I would have thought that there would be no way anyone could have done
what you did in our classes," Clarice said quietly.

"Some decent surveillance cameras would help. My boss could give you a really
good deal on that project."

"I will consider it," Clarice almost growled. "I guess I have just one more
question. Why? Why come forward now? You could have left and never returned. We
would never have known what would have happened. Why confess?"

Shalonda went very quiet, and Clarice watched as a myriad of emotions played
across the lovely face so she knew the precise moment that Shalonda decided to
tell her the truth. "First, you do good work here, Clarice, and this debacle has
the potential to shatter the trust shared among you and your other staff folks.
I figure that the loss of that trust would basically destroy your school. I
don't want to be responsible for that."

"You said that was the first thing." Clarice prompted gently when the other
women suddenly went very quiet again.

Tears began to cut shimmering ebony tracks down her high cheeks. "Because I am
pissed off, okay?" she finally sobbed out. "That sonuvabitch *used* me to hurt
*her*, and I can't deal with that, all right? I had to do *something*. I would
NEVER hurt Penelope, Clarice. Not knowingly, anyway.

Before Clarice could say anything more, Penelope suddenly rose and moved over to
sit on the arm of the now-openly crying woman's chair. "Why not, Shalonda?" She
asked, parroting the question foremost in Clarice's own mind.

"Hell, because I have fallen in love with you, dammit, and I feel SICK at having
been used by that sonuvabitch to hurt you."

If that pronouncement shocked Clarice, that feeling was dwarfed by what she felt
when the two women fell into a tight embrace, each crying and trying to console
the other.

Eventually, the tide of emotion waned, and the pair shyly parted, Penelope
moving back to her original seat. Clarice passed a nearby tissue box over to the
pair.

"Clarice?" Shalonda finally got out. "Is there anything we can do? I mean, he
already has the evidence. Right now I'd lie under oath if I thought it would
help, but those pictures are going to be pretty damning."

"I don't know, Shalonda. Red is working on it. He thinks it is fairly unlikely
that any of this will ever come to court because those pictures are much more
valuable to him as a blackmail tool to keep Penelope under control so that she
doesn't buck him in the boardroom or as a tool to gain control of the company in
spite of her controlling interest. If it does go to court, Red thinks we have
enough circumstantial evidence to smear him badly if we are willing to "out" the
school and to sacrifice Penelope in the process. What Mr. D_ doesn't know is
that he has thoroughly pissed me off and I will out the school to get at him if
I have to. The only thing I won't do is hurt Penelope anymore than she already
has been."

"I will do whatever it takes to get to Marshall, Clarice. Even a pyrrhic victory
sounds good to me right now, but what will you do about the school?"

"Move it, I guess. If I am going to become the second coming of Lisa the
Perfectionist from Anne Rice's "Exit to Eden", we might as well buy ourselves a
small Carribean island of our own outside the territorial limits of the States."
She paused for a moment, realizing she would miss this old convent, but put that
away for later when she had more time to grieve. Now, she had other things, more
important things to do. "So, what can I tell the other students? If we could, I
would like to restore their trust in my staff."

"I will tell them everything if that will help," Shalonda offered. "My
obligation to that bastard ended when I found out he lied to me from the
beginning."

Clarice rose. "Tomorrow after breakfast? Full school assembly?"

Nodding, Shalonda also rose, but Penelope reached over to grab her hand. "Could
you stay? At least for a little while?" Clarice saw the surprise and fearful
hope in Shalonda's eyes. "Please?"

"I will have breakfast sent up for both of you tomorrow." she said as she moved
to the door leaving a stunned Shalonda staring down at the petite woman whose
hand held hers so tightly. "Good night," she said with a smile, but she wasn't
too surprised when she had not gotten a response before the suite door clicked
shut.

Part 5

The response to Shalonda's confession was generally positive. All of the
soon-to-be-graduating seniors stayed with only a few of the junior classwomen
electing to leave. Two of the juniors, four of the sophomores and half of the
freshmen elected to leave, with all but one promising to come back once
everything was resolved and the school could once again assure them safety *and*
discretion. Even the one who wasn't coming back could be counted a plus in
Clarice's and most of the staff's view. Miss Icebox 1999 in Penelope's class had
not done anything to endear herself to anyone at the school and would not be
missed. Clarice had even enjoyed writing the refund check.

The morning passed with helping the departing students get packed and leave.
Clarice decided not to start classes until the next day, and had the cooks
prepare a picnic for the remaining students. The women frolicked in the sun like
children, playing a variety of games including tag, volleyball and softball.
Many of the women had returned to their GWU uniforms of bare-skin and exercise
shoes, but no one had ordered that so some had also continued to wear their
clothes.

Towards the end of the impromptu party, Red found Clarice. "I think we just
might have a solution, dear. Let's find Penelope and see if we can work this to
our advantage."

~------------~

"I don't believe this. You are kidding, right? Mr. God and Country H_? No way!!"
Penelope said forcefully.

"Way," Clarice grinned back as she reached for the phone. "At least if he is the
same Harold H_, and you have to admit, that is not a common name."

Red watched from the sidelines as she dialed the phone and then listened
expectantly. Finally she chirped. "Harold H_, please. This is Clarice C_." There
was a pause. "Glad to hear your voice, too, dear. How is your lovely wife, and
that sweetheart of a daughter of yours? Oh, that's wonderful. Harold? Are you
the same Harold H_ who sits on the Board of Directors of D_ Corporation? You
are? Well, we have a problem that you might be able to help us with. Let me
explain . . ."

~-------------~

Marshall D_ looked across his desk to the austerely attractive woman seated
there. Bethanne B_ was, ostensibly, his executive assistant. In truth, she was
far more than that. First and foremost, she was his lover, and to quote Rod
Stewart, oh, mother, what a lover. Under that pristine, coolly elegant shell was
a woman who knew more ways to turn a man inside out than an entire Parisian
bordello. More important than that, however, was that she was the brains behind
most of what Marshall had accomplished with the company in the two years since
he'd hired her.

For the past year, Marshall had wanted to divorce Penelope and settle down with
his new lady. The problem with that course of action was that he would cease
being president sometime on or before the date of the finalized divorce decree.
The prenuptial agreement he'd signed when he'd married Penelope virtually
assured that. Unless there was some type of fault involved on her part leading
to the divorce, he'd be allowed to keep only what had obviously been paid for
with his contribution to the household which included his wardrobe, toys and
cars. Everything else was a result of the D_ family fortune.

Then, someone (and Marshall *wished* he knew who that someone was) had
anonymously sponsored Marshall and Penelope to the Good Wife University. He'd
been ready to laugh it off, but Bethanne had read between the lines and thought
there might be something to this place. She'd been the one to hire that
investigative service, and they'd come up with just about the entire
"curriculum" of the place in relatively short order. Good Wife University. . .
HAH. Slut School was closer.

"But, sweetheart. Why do I want her to go someplace like that when all I really
want her to do is go away or die."

But of course, Bethanne had seen possibilities he'd never considered. Not only
would such behavior, if properly documented, greatly simplify getting the
divorce they both wanted under much more equitable terms, it could prevent his
loss of the presidency. Bethanne was the one who had pointed out how such
behavior enforced by the GWU could be used to turn the rest of the Board of
Directors against Penelope if she tried to remove him as president.

Yes, a very powerful, very exciting, very dangerous woman was his lover, and all
the more arousing for that very reason.

Bethanne tossed her coal black hair and fixed her boss with a cold look. "While
I agree with you that it probably doesn't matter at this point, Marshall, it was
still stupid to show her the pictures before we were fully ready to move."

Marshall was pleased to be able to show her wrong for once. She was a helluva
woman, but every once in while, a man had to remind his woman who was the head
of the relationship. "I don't think so, darling. We've won, and now, Penelope
knows it. It will do her good to stew over it for a while before we offer her
the opportunity to retire with her dignity by divorcing me and selling us her
interest in the company."

"I could quote history and point out the difference between Pearl Harbor, which
was a complete surprise and Midway, when the US Navy knew what the Japanese
planned to do, but I won't. Since I agree that there is very little she can do
at this point, I will simply tell you *not* to do it again." She watched as
Marshall started to respond, but caught himself when he saw the steel shining in
her violet eyes. He nodded. Satisfied, she let the matter drop. "So, do you know
why Harold H_ wants to talk to you?"

Relieved to have been let off the hook this time, Marshall could only shake his
head. "His secretary did not say. Just said he needed to discuss the next board
meeting with me."

"I don't like not knowing why he wants to meet with you. I think this is the
first time he has done such a thing since I have worked here. It is out of
character."

"Well, I couldn't tell him not to come. We are counting on his block of stock
when it comes time to censure Penelope if she is too stupid to take us up on our
offer."

-beep beep- the intercom chimed its electronic bell tone. "Mr. H_ is here to see
you, sir," the outer office receptionist reported. "He has some guests with him
he'd like you to meet."

He started to the intercom, but decided he felt good enough to be magnanimous
and strode to the door to his office. Besides, it would soften the old bird up
if he was met in the outer alcove.

What Marshall D_ saw in the outer office brought him up short. Harold H_ was
there all right, along with two women he only vaguely recognized and a man he
did not know at all. However it was the *other* women with the old man that
stopped him short. Standing beside Harold was Penelope, along with that black
female PI and the woman who had given the welcoming speech the night Penelope
had unwillingly started the GWU program.

"Hello, Harold." he said cautiously. "What can I do for you today."

"I think, D_," the old man said icily, "That you might prefer if we discuss that
in the privacy of your office."

Shocked by the tone and the message, Marshall retreated. "Of course. Please come
in."

Once inside, Marshall shut and locked the door to his office. He took a moment
to disable the surveillance equipment that watched over his safety and then
turned to face his guests. "I guess this is your show, Harold," he offered by
way of an introduction, "but first, may I introduce Ms. Bethanne B., my
executive assistant?"

"I think," Harold's voice was rock hard, "That *you*, Mr. D_, might prefer that
Ms. B_ not attend this meeting."

Marshall turned to Bethanne, saw the look in her eyes, and shuddered. "No,
Harold. I think I would rather have her stay. Just to keep minutes."

The old man shrugged. "Your office, your choice," he said calmly before turning
toward the other members of his entourage. Let me introduce you to my friends.
Of course you already know your own wife, and it is my understanding that you
are acquainted with this lady, Shalonda S_ as well since you hired her to spy on
your wife. This lady," and he turned to Clarice, "Is Mrs. C_, Head Mistress of
the Good Wife University."

"How do you do, Mrs. C_." Marshall responded when Harold did not bother to
introduce the other two women or the man. Turning to his wife and the PI, he
greeted them coolly. "Penelope. Ms. S_."

Silence quickly shrouded the office, until Marshall could no longer stand it.
"Harold, if you have something to say, please say it. I am a busy man and Ms. B
and I have important company business to see to."

"Just how long you have that 'company business to see to', Marshall, is very
dependent on the outcome of this meeting, so I suggest that you have very little
that could be more pressing than this little get-together."

"That sounds like a threat, Harold, and you really don't want to make threats in
my office." Marshall said, his temper starting to burn.

"Not a threat, you pompous little ass." the older man growled. "Let me make this
clear. Between your wife and I, we control almost forty five percent of this
company. I have proxy rights to vote another eight percent. If we don't come to
an agreement right here, right now, an emergency board meeting will be called
within the hour to vote you out of office and to terminate your contract with
this company."

"WHAT???" Marshall's temper froze as he tried to understand what had just been
said.

"Let me tell you what it will take for you to keep your cushy little job, Mr.
D_," Harold said as he moved to get into Marshall's face. "You paid Shalonda to
take pictures of your wife while she was going through training at Mrs. C_'s
school which you told her you would use to blackmail her with the Board. You
evidently concluded that our conservative, Christian natures would be so
disgusted by her behavior that we'd strip her of her voting rights."

Harold broke off his tirade and walked over to stand behind the two women
Marshall had thought familiar when they'd first entered the room. "You stupid
fool, who do you think sponsored you so that you even found out about the GWU?
Let me introduce my wife, Delta, and my daughter, Dawn, Mr. D_. Both are high
honors graduates of the Good Wife University."

"But. . but. . . you are Baptists," Marshall said in shocked dismay, his head
slewing back and forth between an equally stunned Bethanne and Harold.

"The Ten Commandments only say "Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery", Mr. D_. They
say NOTHING that precludes finding joy and pleasure and fulfillment within
marriage, and THAT, you consummate idiot, is what GWU is all about. Yes, the
program there was adjusted a bit for my wife and daughter because of their faith
and personal convictions, but they still learned a great deal and my son-in-law
and I are *very* happy men. I wanted that for you because I liked your wife and
could tell you two weren't happy. Then, you had to go and do something stupid
when there wasn't any reason for it."

Marshall could not believe his world had been so disrupted so suddenly. "What do
you want."

"It is what your wife wants that counts, Mr. D_. Satisfy her - by all accounts
for the *first* time in your life - and you won't be looking for a new job. At
least, not immediately. Penelope?"

Penelope moved to stand beside Harold. Marshall had never seen that cold look in
her eyes before. It was all he could do not to flinch from her stare. "I want
three things from you, Marshall, that's all," she said in a poisonously sweet
voice that made his skin crawl. "I want you to sign the agreement my attorney,
Mr. C_ has for your signature and Mr. H_'s witnessing. Then I want those damned
pictures. All of them including the negatives. Shalonda will make sure that they
are all there. And if any prints show up at anytime after we conclude our
business today, I will sue you for breach of contract. After that, I want an
uncontested divorce, property split precisely according to the prenuptial
agreement which states that we both keep what we brought into the marriage. You
can have your cars and toys, but the house, the stock and the income from those
stocks are all mine. You keep only your salary, adjusted for your fair share of
our joint living expenses, of course."

"That's highway robbery! This is a joint property state! I should get far more
than that in a settlement." he protested, only to stop dead in his tracks when
Harold moved a step closer to him.

"Perhaps. So we're even - blackmail for grand theft. If you don't agree, we will
vote you out right now and then destroy your career. Harold has an excellent
reputation in the business world, you know, and by the time he is done with you,
well, you *might* be able to get a job as a sewer worker."

It was happening too quickly, he thought dazed, but there was no doubt that
Harold was capable of doing precisely what Penelope had just threatened. He had
never expected to come close to failing in this gambit so he and Bethanne did
not have any back up contingency plans to fall back on. He was caught. Or was
he? Could he get Penelope to forgive him? Let bygones be bygones? Then he saw
those cold eyes again.

"You said there was a contract?" he said defeatedly.

"Right here, Mr. D_," Red said cheerfully as he pulled a file folder out of his
attache. The signing was dealt with quickly enough and Red reclaimed the
contracts. "I will file these with at the county courthouse before the end of
the day. The divorce decree should be final in a couple of weeks. It will take
that long for our accounting firm to divide up the property." "Your accounting
firm?" Marshall bridled.

"You really should read what you sign," Red grinned. "You just agreed to allow
Penelope to select the accounting firm that will oversee the dispensation of
property. She has already signed with my firm."

"Who *are* you?" Marshall demanded.

"*Her*" Red said, all the cheer gone from his voice as he pointed to his smiling
wife, "Husband. And one of your worst mistakes. I designed the GWU contract you
pulled that crap on with the disappearing signature, Mister. I watched you sign
this one, as did everyone else in this room."

"Well," Marshall said with false bravado, "I guess that concludes our business.
I am still president and I still do have a company to run. So, if you will
please excuse me?"

Harold gestured for the party to precede him to the door. Once there, he stopped
and turned to face Marshall one last time. "You are the president, but just so
you know, I will be putting a motion before the board at the next meeting to
reorganize the management of this company. We will be appointing a CEO and a
Chief Financial Officer to run the company. The president will be responsible
for carrying out their directions. Don't bother applying for either post, D_.
You don't have the right stuff for the job. You can stay president if that is
what you want, but at a salary commensurate with your . . .ummm. . new duties
and responsibilities. If you elect to look for a new post at another company,
well, I won't sabotage you." He turned to leave but stopped again. "At least not
*this* time because I promised your wife that I wouldn't. After this, I may
remember that your stupid plan threatened some friends of mine, and almost
destroyed something which greatly benefitted both my wife and daughter. Know any
good headhunters, D_? Good day."

Shalonda hung back, a cold, blank look on her face. Marshall was about to say
something nasty to her when her foot lashed straight up into his wishbone
knocking him gasping to the floor. "You lied to me, scum, and *used* me to try
to hurt a sweet, wonderful woman. Let me tell you something, slimeball. You
aren't good enough to lick her ass clean after she takes a crap. Let me add
something to that little contract you just signed. No, let me make you a
promise. If just one of those pictures sees the light of day, I am going to
invite you to my next martial arts demonstration . . . . . as the demonstration
dummy. If you are lucky, you'll wake up in a hospital. If you aren't, or if you
*really* piss me off, you won't wake up." Shalonda punctuated that last
statement with a sharp kick to Marshall's groin, and then left him rolling and
vomiting on the floor.

When the world finally stopped twisting and turning, Marshall looked up to see a
furious Bethanne staring down at him. "I told you that showing her those
pictures prematurely was stupid. Harold called you a hundred kinds of fool."
Suddenly the raw agony in Marshall's groin erupted fresh and new. Through the
haze of his agony, he heard Bethanne's voice. "Harold was being too fucking
kind. See you at the unemployment office, shit-for-brains."

~------------------~

An exhausted but exhilarated Clarice rolled over on top of her husband and
kissed him thoroughly. "I am soooooo tired, but I am too wired to sleep." She
grinned down at Red and then ravaged his mouth again while squirming deliciously
against his growing erection. "Feel up to doing something about it? Or perhaps
doing something about or to me?"

"Minx." he chuckled as he took up her challenge to both their pleasures.

Much later, Clarice sighed with pleased satiation. She burrowed her head into
the crook of his arm. "It went well, today, didn't it?"

"We were lucky - twice. First that Harold was the one involved and that he could
do something. Second that Shalonda really did care about Penelope."

"That too, but what I was talking about was our students all staying or coming
back when we called." Clarice and Red had spent the entire evening calling the
women who had left and telling them of the day's happenings. A perfect end to a
pretty darned good day.

"Even Miss Icebox." Red teased.

Clarice almost grimaced, but just then she simply felt too good. Icy's husband
had been adamant that his wife would learn to enjoy the marital embrace and
amazingly enough, the woman actually did love and want to please her man.
Clarice had permitted her to readmit, but hadn't had the heart to tell her
staff. She'd tell them tomorrow.

"Even Shalonda and Penelope." Clarice retorted, choosing to ignore the Icy
situation.

"Well, that surprised me," Red admitted. "Neither of them are really married or
even attached as near as I can tell."

A soft, sexy chuckle vibrated his lover's body. "Well, they certainly aren't
attached to a man."

Red wondered at her oddly chosen words, but he knew Clarice well enough to know
that every little syllable had meaning when she chose to speak. *what the hell
does that mean?* he wondered. He was about to ask her that very question when he
saw what she meant. "You don't mean. . .they're.. . . I mean. . .the two of
them? Together?"

"Yup. We may have to change our name to the Good Significant Other University."

"But they're gonna go through it here? Together? At the same time?"

"Whole new dynamic, isn't it? I am not sure how to handle two women who have
decided to become each other's good significant other."

"You did fine before," Red encouraged. "They'll be fine. Fun to watch, too.
Another GWU first. Committed partners going through the course together."

"You're probably right," Clarice said with a sleepy smile. "After all, it's all
about loving each other, isn't it, Red- dear?"

"Like I love you?" Red asked as he pulled he closer, sleep also beginning to
slur his words.

"Like I love you, too, my love." Clarice said, knowing he'd fallen asleep
without hearing her words, but also knowing he already knew that. *Love is
grand,* was Clarice's own last thought as she too slipped off into sleep wrapped
in her husband's loving arms.

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