Mercer: Prophets MC
Page 39
When I opened the door, the man who greeted me looked off. I had known Mr. Iverly for almost three years now. But today he was looking far from the polished professional who always greeted me as a top, promising student. Today, he was sweaty, his blond spiky hair messed up, and his jacket laying on the carpeted floor of his office. A sliver of his blue button up shirt was sticking out from the zipper of his black slacks. I eyed a couple of discarded tissues in the wastebin. Oh no.
He ushered me to the seat, lingering behind me for a long, agonizing moment. When he took a seat behind the oak desk, he reached down and tossed across the desk a familiar green and white binder. He cleared his throat before asking me, “Do you know what this book is, Kylie?”
“Yes, sir. It’s the College Standards Guide. I received one when I was a freshman.”
“Then you know what it says, am I right? Let me turn you attention to page twelve.” He opened the book and thumbed through the pages. A section was highlighted, making itself known among the black and white pages. “Please read this to me.”
I felt like a child as I pulled the book closer to my face. I hadn’t been asked to read out loud since grade school. He was really getting off with this power trip. “Students of the International Relations Program are expected to be representatives of their school at all times, including in non-academic or university sponsored activities.” My heart beat heavy in my chest as I started to understand. The next few sentences sealed my fate, “Any egregious activity that interferes with academic pursuits or the integrity of the program will result in immediate removal from the university and a partial, prorated refund of tuition.”
Mr. Iverly nodded his head as I finished and then turned the screen of his computer around. I gripped onto the wooden chair as I instantly recognized the pink, girlish font and the black background. Wilder’s Girls flashed in large letters as a picture of me with my mouth open, swallowing Wilder’s cum, caused me to look away. He turned the screen back towards him before asking, “I assume by your reaction that this is really you. A student in the program alerted us of this two weeks ago.”
His words shocked me, turning me red with anger. I burst out, “I really don’t think it’s the business of anybody in the program. I'm not hurting anyone.”
His eyes squared in on me, glancing over my body. I was not dressed like the porn star in the photo with her tight white tank top and her dark red lipstick. Yet, he couldn’t help taking in the curves of my breasts in this black t-shirt. He responded slowly, measuring his words, “Kylie, besides putting yourself in danger, you're putting our program in a spotlight in which we would not like to be in. That is why the academic committee has agreed that we no longer believe you're a good fit for the program or the university.”
I stood up; his eyes still followed me, this time glancing at my ass. “Mr. Iverly, you cannot be serious. I'm the best student this program has ever had. You told me this yourself. I'm doing what I’m doing precisely because I don’t have the tuition money. I had to do something since the school refused to give me any more scholarship money. You’ve got to understand that!”
He leaned back in his leather chair as he said, “I understand that, but many students struggle to afford college. They don’t go about paying for it by degrading themselves on camera. I’m sorry, Kylie, but this is it. This is our final decision. There will be no further chances or appeal process. You may, if you like, sit for finals and leave in good standing, but that’s it.”
I didn’t know what to do, my mind completely blank. I placed my hands on the desk, leaning over the paperwork on his desk to get closer to him. My blonde hair dangled at my side. I cried out to him, “Please, sir. I quit today. I'm not going back there. I will do anything…anything to stay a student here. There must be something we can do.”
I understood the meaning of my own words. I hated the idea of flaunting myself to him, but I needed this. I would be willing to go this far to keep holding on to my dream. After all that I had lost today, this could not be added to my pile.
His back arched farther. As I looked at his tight trousers, I noticed the indent of his pants was raised. He was turned on. He was thinking about it. But suddenly, his face fell as his chair jerked back forward and he fumbled to turn off his screen. He stammered as he began to dial on his phone. “I’m sorry, Kylie, but you're no longer a student at this college after this week. We wish you the best in your, erm, endeavors.”
I took my cue, grabbing my backpack, and walking out the door. I wasn’t giving him a chance to embarrass me by escorting me out. If I was going to grieve, I was going to do it on my time and on my terms.
Chapter 24: The Aftermath
I watched the metal door to the academic building go flying. The loud sound of metal slamming into brick echoed through the hallway. My head was pounding and I ached. Every bit of me just wanted to curl up in that ball and die.
After a few minutes, I realized I was walking with no direction. Everything had been spinning so quickly around me in a daze of green trees, brown buildings, and gray pavement that I hadn’t had a moment to just acclimate myself to what was going on or where I was heading. By the time I noticed, I was already at the other end of campus. The sun was setting just behind me as at least, I told myself, the end of this horrible day was drawing near.
I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed and hide under the covers until everything went away. I turned around and slowly headed back to my dorm room as I watched students who looked and acted just like me headed cheerfully in and out of the buildings, books in their hands, notes tucked in their book bags. All I had ever wanted was to be one of them, to feel like I had a part of this community. And now that I was here and that I was finally feeling like one of them, it was getting taken away from me.
The door to my room is opened and I saw my roommate, Lana, sitting on the floor, chatting with some unknown guy. I dropped my bag at the entrance of the room unsure of what to do or say. With one look at me and my red eyes and frazzled hair, Lana was ushering the guy out the door as he protested. Obviously, he wasn’t planning on cutting this day off so quickly.
“Kylie?” She shut the door behind her and placed her hands on my sunken shoulders. “What’s going on? Did something happen to you?”
I nodded my head as I let out a choked back sigh. I could feel everything ready to pour out of me as it built and built. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t breath. The spinning was back. All I knew was that I was free falling and Lana was shouting something totally incoherent at me. I tried to focus on her face and her voice as she was suddenly standing or kneeling over me, shouting out, “Breathe! Kylie!”
I remembered what I needed to do and I took a few sucks in. The motion helped me situate myself as my hand gripped at the purple fuzzy area rug on our floor. How did I get here? It was dark, as well. Our corner lamp was turned on and the windows were closed.
Lana had a wet towel in her hand and she was dabbing it over my forehead as she continued to command me, “Breathe. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay. This is just a little panic attack.”
I listened to her soothe me as I remembered everything, every detail – Wilder’s face when I told him we were through, the counselor checking me out as he told me what a disgrace I was, me being tortured and whipped as the camera shot my red and white body. Every emotion vacated my body as something new appeared: anger. I sat up slowly and, without a word to Lana, I crawled myself towards our mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of vodka.
“Kylie!” She shrieked in shock as I swung back the cold, stiff drink. “What the hell are you doing? You just had a panic attack, and you’ve got class in like thirty minutes!”
I took another long drink, letting the heat of it wash over me before I replied, “I don’t have class. They kicked me out.”
“They kicked you out? You? C’mon. You’re bullshitting me.”
I didn’t blame Lana for not believing me. I couldn’t think of a less deserving person than me. “Nope. N
o bullshit. Good ol’ reliable Kylie. Kylie the Straight A Student. Kylie the Brainiac. Kylie the Teacher’s Pet. Kylie the Wuss. Out of everyone in this school, I get kicked out for being in a few pornos.” I watched her face as it completely dropped. I let it slip. For the last few months that I had been working in front of the camera, I hadn’t let anyone in on my double life. Now I was going to have to deal with her judgment, as well.
She shook her head and then stared back at me. It was like every lie, every late night, every excuse I had given her was adding up in her head as she evaluated it all. Finally, she lowered her voice and said, “Kylie, why didn’t you tell me?” Her eyebrows peaked as I was about to answer, “Because that is so incredibly awesome!”
“What?” I was dumbfounded.
“I mean, I thought there was a wild creature somewhere in you, but not like…a porn star. And when I saw that guy you're with, I thought he looked good enough to be in those kinds of things, but I didn’t want to say it. This, like, changes everything.”
“Yeah, it does, Lana. It changes everything because it got me kicked out of school for good! Mr. Iverly found out and dismissed me from the university. I’m only allowed to stay to sit for finals and then I’m out. And I only did the porn to pay for school and Daniel back for that night when I ruined bottle service!” I drank again, hoping to forget.
Lana took the bottle from me, drinking a bit herself. After a few beats, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood up. She pulled out a few things from her dresser drawers and tossed them my way. I fumbled with the pink and white lace frill lingerie as she jovially shouted, “Well, there’s only one thing we can do! Celebrate!”
“Celebrate?” I tossed the panties and bra back her way. “You’ve got to be out of your mind. I just want to drink ‘til I’m a puddle of vodka, Lana. Last thing I want to do is go to a club with you and your friends.”
“We’re not going to a club. We’re going to a mansion. And we’re going to drink for free, meet some guys, and celebrate your freedom.” She grabbed my hands and lifted me to standing. Her arms hooked around my t-shirt and pulled it off of me, tossing it on the floor. She took one look at me, sizing me up, before saying, “It’s a lingerie party so you’ll need something, well, not you. I think I’ve got just the thing, though.”
She went back into the drawer and pulled out a white silk bustier and a pair of matching garter and stockings with white lace. “I think this will fit, though you’re skinnier than me and have much bigger boobs.” She winked, “Lucky.”
“Please, Lana. If I were the least bit desirable, I’d have a real boyfriend or at least a ton of guys after me like you.” My words were a mistake –I instantly conjured up images of Wilder taking me out on our romantic dinner date and him whispering that he cared for me. My stomach turned as I slipped the tight, structured material over my chest and down to my hips. I rolled up the stockings and clipped the garter belt to the bustier.
Lana threw me a pair of silver heels, and we wobbled out the door, Lana in her pink bra and panties and me more exposed than I had ever felt before. Walking out in public like this was a totally different sensation than baring it all during a porn shoot. I wanted to grab a robe or a coat or something. But with each step in these awkward heels, each glance at the rearview mirror by the cab driver, each sip of the flask Lana snuck into the car, each application of lip gloss and eyeliner was making me feel like I really was this girl. I really was Kylie the sex bomb.
By the time we reached the party, I was flying. The alcohol was catching up to me as I teetered between complete sugar high and totally out of it. The mansion with its ornate pillars, tuxedoed staff, and foreboding rooms were something more akin to a Vegas mirage than real life. Lana led me by the hand to the pool where most of the guests were lingering. She ran to grab us drinks from the tiki bar while I stood off to the side, taking in the sights of the women in their panties rubbing up against men with tattooed and tanned bodies to the beat of the music.
Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do at these kinds of parties, except for me. Even though I was feeling free with the booze flowing through me, I still couldn’t think of how to just jump in. I knew I was looking completely nuts as I stood by the DJ booth, twirling the strands of hair with my fingers, using it as a way to cover up my naked skin.
I felt a rough tap on my shoulders as a large hand spun me around to face them. The guy’s beady black eyes leered at me as he smiled crookedly. His hand traveled down my shoulder to my arm, holding me in place, as he shouted at me over the sound of the techno music, “Hey! I know youse.”
I looked at him, trying to place him from a class or maybe at the bar I used to work at. But he looked totally foreign to me. I shouted back, taking a step towards the wall, “I’m sorry. I don’t think I know you, though.”
He wasn’t moving. He was just staring at me with his toothy grin and his wrinkled face. I had been drinking, but he had been doing a lot more. Even in the dark and under the neon light beams, I could see the scratch marks. Unlike the ones I saw on Wilder, his were more red and deeper. Every red flag was flying. My eyes darted back towards the tiki bar, hoping Lana was in calling distance, but she was covered by the sea of bodies waiting for their drinks.
“No, no. I know youse. I know youse real well,” The way he said it made it click for me. There was only one way a guy like him would know who I am. He lifted his arm over my head, pinning me in. His head turned as he ushered for another shirtless guy to join him. “Tommy! Tommy! Ya know who dis girl is? I bet ya do, ya sick bastid!”
The man stood next to him and peered at me as if I was an exotic animal they’re trying to name. Finally, a glimmer of recognition as he, too, smiled widely. “You’re the girl from those movies. The Wilder Girl! I saw your shot with Julie the other day.” He touched his heart almost tenderly as he exclaimed, “Damn! I was never so turned on my life, especially when Wilder appears out of nowhere and fucks you hard. Jesus.”
No one had recognized me before and, by how he's staring at me, I wasn’t sure if I wanted someone like him knowing me like that. Still, I asked him cautiously, unsure how to approach this. “How do you know Julie and Wilder?” I was sure huge fans can name porn stars, especially if it was their favorite, but knowing people by the first name just seemed wrong to me.
“Let’s just say we’re financiers. We know quality art when we see it. We provide the money, your team provides the tits and the ass.”
His hand began to stroke my shoulder and collarbone, dipping lower as he goes. Both were licking their lips at me. I was their meal; I could feel it. I squirmed away as Lana appeared with a guy from the bar. I shouted back at them as I stumbled towards her, “It was good to meet you guys! Have a great night.” I took Lana’s arm and led her back in the direction of the house. Her boy toy was still trailing us, trying to keep up. “Lana, I don’t think I can do this. Those guys recognized me…from the shoots.”
Lana turned, handed me the drink, and waited until I took a sip. I did one better: I gulped the pink liquid down in one throw. “I don’t understand what the problem is. If they recognize you, the more they want you. Play around! Live a little! That’s what this is supposed to be about. You, your freedom, and loads of hot guys ready to give you anything you want!” She snapped her fingers and the man appeared by her side. He looked at her with longing eyes as she commanded him, “Can you be a dear and get my friend another one of whatever these are? I’d be ever so grateful.”
With a lick of his lips, I could tell he was hooked. Fantasies were playing in his head. This was a dream scenario for him. If I had asked him for his credit card number and a key to his house, he would have delivered it to us on a silver platter if it would get him closer to a three way with the two of us.
Lana laughed as he stomped off. “Poor guy. He’s not getting anything but a bar tab from me.” She held her nose as her voice changed to nasal, “Too much cologne. It’s deadly.”
By the time he returned
, I was starting to get back into my element. The music had changed to something that I actually wanted to dance to as I headed back to the pool. The two guys from earlier spotted me almost instantly, gesturing to me with the rest of their group of guys. I said the hell with it as I winked their way and pouted my lips.
The ringleader floated my way, handing his shirt to one of his underlings. “You look like you need someone to dance with.” He had a soft southern drawl. I had to admit, it was pretty hot. He wasn’t exactly my type with a bald head and black tattoos all over his shoulders and chest, but I didn’t need something my type. Just something good.
He took me by the hips, pulling me close to him. I could feel his hands run up my spine, underneath the lace and latex of my bustier. Finally, they rested on the curve of my ass, a finger slipping between the fabric of my panties. I leaned back and moaned a bit as I rested closer to him, our bodies swaying back and forth together. A man approached me with another pink drink and I shot it down again, not even noticing the fiery aftertaste anymore. All I wanted was this man’s hands on my body and the nagging voices in my head to melt away with the music.