It was well past eight in the morning when I woke the next day and I automatically reached for my phone out of habit. I gasped, sitting up straight. My phone had been on silent and already it had eleven texts, plus five missed calls. Well, that was certainly a good start, I smirked. Just as I unlocked the phone it rang, I hesitated, but then thought, why the hell not.
“Hello, Molly speaking,” I greeted chirpily.
“Ms. Sampson, this is the Dean speaking,” I gulped hearing the gruff voice at the other end. “I’d like to meet with you this morning in my office please.” It was a command, not a request.
“Sure, what time?” I remained upbeat, not willing to show him I was ruffled.
“Nine o’clock,” he stated. Shit, that gave me just forty minutes to get to campus.
“I’ll do my best,” I replied stubbornly.
“You do that,” he responded bluntly before the phone line went dead.
Right then, that’s my morning set, I thought. I jumped into the shower and quickly dressed. Ten minutes later I was grabbing my phone to run out the door. I looked at the screen, another four missed calls and more texts. This is great, I thought gladly. At least, if I get kicked out of College, I can hopefully use this as an opportunity to build my ‘tabloid’ career. I laughed smugly.
As I entered the Dean’s office spot on nine o’clock, I felt my knees wobble a bit. I hadn’t been in this office before and the décor was stuffy and daunting, a bit like the Dean, really.
“Ms. Sampson, explain this,” he demanded before I even had a chance to sit.
“I’m studying journalism sir. It was an article that had to be written.” I was being defiant, but my heart was racing, as I waited for the inevitable.
“How dare you!” his voice rose. “This school has a reputation and you dare to speculate that we house prostitutes as students?” His neck and cheeks flushed with anger.
I moved to take a seat at his desk, deliberately stalling, as I relaxed into the armchair opposite him, crossing my legs. I gazed around the room nonchalantly, taking my time. He huffed, clearly impatient. I was actually having quite a bit of fun with this.
Keeping my voice low and calm I responded. “Sir, this is just the reality. It happens at every college and learning institution, not just yours.” I quickly continued as he started to rebut my statement, “This article is not about the reputation of your institution, it is about the fact that tuition fees are high, students cannot afford to take out costly loans before they even start their career and yes the sex trade pays much higher rates than check out work, trust me! My article was intended to highlight that this is a real problem and the only solution is for our government to start supporting institutions with more scholarships, less pressure on increasing school fees and better incentives.” I breathed and waited. This was it, he was either going to expel me from the College, or fail me outright.
“She’s right!” I spun the chair around, to seek out the voice that came from behind me. Professor Daniel Wilkins was leaning against the door. “If I must comment, it was a very insightful article showing good research and strong arguments.” I almost fell off my chair. I couldn’t believe he was defending me. “She doesn’t actually mention this College, so there is no problem of causing any direct disrepute,” he continued.
I smiled triumphantly. I still hated him, but as I studied his eyes, there was something in there. Was it respect? Hmmmm, I thought to myself. There was more to this man than I had expected.
“Well, it still puts us in a bad light,” the Dean stuttered in defence.
I turned back to him and watched his eyes widen as he realised that a student and one of his junior College professors had cornered him. Daniel was not doing himself any favours by jumping to my defence, I thought.
“You’re excused Ms. Sampson and take this as a warning, any future articles you intend to write that implicate this institution, you run by me personally first!” He was still red with anger, but there was also a tinge of embarrassment. I didn’t hesitate, as I jumped out of the chair and headed towards the door. “Professor, can you remain behind, so we can talk?” he said, as I reached Daniel still standing at the entrance.
I found myself feeling a little sorry for Daniel, but not enough to jump to his defence. I mouthed to him, as I passed, “ Thank you!” He merely nodded, with his eyes, coolly. Our eyes connected and I felt a slight tingle run down my spine. I would need to understand more about Professor Daniel Wilkins, I decided to myself, as I stepped out of the lion’s den. He intrigued me and it made me wonder, but right now I was happy to let him fend off the Dean, as I made my exit.
Phew! Saved by the skin of my teeth, I breathed out loud as I rounded the corner of the hall and away from the Dean’s office. My heart was pumping, sending vibrations right through my body and my limbs felt weak. That was some rush! I knew I was teetering on the edge, with that article, but it had been worth it! I had put my entire College future at risk and only with that last minute save from Daniel, did I escape unharmed. The feeling of standing on the edge left me wanting more, perhaps even feeling a little turned on. I smiled gleefully as I skipped down the hall. I felt my phone buzz again in my pocket and checked the screen, debating this time whether I should actually answer the call. Oh well, it can’t be worse than the Dean, I thought smugly.
“Melinda Sampson?” a young female voice enquired.
“Yes, speaking,” I responded politely.
“I am calling from the Sun-Star Daily,” the woman stated primly. “We read your article with interest.”
“Thanks,” I said calmly. I wanted to control my voice and the excitement that was bubbling inside.
“Are you available this week? We would like you to come into our offices to meet the paper’s editor.” I smiled in victory. It worked, now it was time to work on my plan to snag Jake Marsden!
The cat is cornering the mouse!
***
Chapter 8 – Jake
I couldn’t face work, even though Molly wouldn’t be there. I just couldn’t face it. Work had become my life in a way, and I could never remember dreading it as much as I did now. For the first time in my life, I felt alone and vulnerable. Well, that’s not strictly true. Let’s just say, for the first time in my adult life. I phoned in sick, but it wasn’t a lie. I couldn’t really describe the way I was feeling. The only time I had ever felt like it before was when I was younger. Back then I was not an unruly child but sometimes I rebelled, particularly at school. I was the school geek, the swot who every other pupil loathed, forever being bullied and picked on. In some ways, I think it made me into the man I am today, but then again, when I think of it, Molly and Daniel nurtured me, so perhaps I’ve got that wrong.
There was one lad in particular, at school, called Tony Steele. He seemed to instigate a lot of the bullying and was obviously the ringleader. He was a plump boy and if I remember correctly he wasn’t very bright. He had a face full of acne, but anyway, that’s beside the point. Every morning he used to take my satchel off me, empty my books onto the floor and trample all over them, whilst the others laughed. Then I would get into trouble with the teachers for the condition they were in. I never told a teacher, though I’m sure they knew. Everyone else did. Every lunch time he used to come over to where I sat eating my lunch and just take it from me. Every opportunity he had, he used, to taunt me.
I was fourteen on the day it happened. This was the day the bullying stopped. I wasn’t a very big lad and not very well developed (just for the record that has improved a lot since. I was a late developer.)
To put it bluntly, he and some others grabbed me in the yard, pulled down my trousers and underpants and got all the girls to laugh at my manhood. Yeah, okay, so, it wasn’t that big. Like I said, I was a late developer. It was the most embarrassing thing I had ever gone through. All I wanted to do at school was learn and yet here I was in the schoolyard, half naked, with all the girls laughing at me. They weren’t just laughing at me, they were po
inting and laughing. It was like being emotionally raped. I cried, but that just seemed to make them laugh more. When they’d had their fun, they just left me there to pull my trousers up and that was ok, as I had lessons after that. At least I would be safe until break time.
I was hoping they’d had their laughs for that day and at lunchtime I would go unscathed. I came back from the serving counter with my tray of fish fingers, beans, and chips, along with apple crumble and custard. (They were proper school dinners in those days). I sat down on my own of course, since no one would ever sit with me. I did feel some pupils liked me, but they were too scared to sit with me. I was just about to tuck in when who should walk over? You guessed it, Tony Steele. Now I was bloody hungry and that was my favourite meal, but I could see him coming for it. I don’t know what made me do it, but as his hand touched the tray, just as he was about to take my meal away from me, I rammed my fork into the back of his hand as hard as I could.
My God, the screams were so loud. I didn’t realise I still held the fork, trying to push it in deeper while he screamed. it must have looked as if I’d staked his hand to my tray. I pulled my hand away in horror, just staring at what I had done, as blood spilt out all over my tray. My meal was now completely ruined. I think that was my first experience of a real adrenalin rush. I was sent home expelled and in punishment, my mother locked me under the stairs. I was there for three hours. That was my usual punishment if I was ever ‘naughty’. Normally it didn’t bother me.
This time, it felt different. In that darkness, under those stairs, it was emotional. It felt deep, as if I had suddenly outrun puberty and become a man. It felt like I had changed my life and things would never be the same from then on... and they weren’t.
Those feelings came flooding back again when I phoned in sick. Suddenly I was alone and vulnerable again. My feelings were replicating that time I was locked under the stairs. There was no fork in a hand oozing blood, and I wasn’t being picked on or bullied. But Daniel had gone, he was dead and Molly had not returned my text. I always guessed she didn’t care for me and I was always going to be just a pawn in her game, but I thought she might have needed me. After everything we had been through together and now, after what we had lost. I was feeling like that fourteen-year-old boy in the school yard, standing there with his trousers around his ankles, while the girls laughed at the size of his cock. I dealt with that then and somehow I’ll get through this as well.
Molly was a risk-taker in all aspects of her life. She was always pushing the boundaries, without actually crossing them; she was a “shock and awe” reporter, certainly not conventional.
That second morning, after we’d said goodbye to Daniel, I needed to find some solace and I did so in my usual way, later that day. The only girl I had ever loved was Molly and I still do. I can’t just stop loving someone. Thanks to Molly, my sexual encounters had actually become quite frequent. Molly had written a controversial piece about students prostituting themselves out to help with their funding. I thought prostitution was too strong a word for it and like any good sub-editor would, I decided to put her theory to the test.
I started flirting with one student, just the odd comment like, “You look nice today”. It wasn’t long before she started playing me. She was at one of my seminars this day and I could see she was in no hurry to leave. Pretty soon there was just her and me there. She told me she was struggling in some areas and she put it down to the stress of not having enough money to eat. I suggested she found some part-time work. I was going to suggest perhaps she spent less money on alcohol, but that wouldn’t have been professional and hell, she was a student after all.
“That takes up too much studying time,” she’d said. “I can think of a lot quicker ways to earn money and it’s so much more fun,” she taunted.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked. It didn’t take her long to answer,
“Well for a £100, an hour, you can take me to your place and do whatever you like to me.”
I actually spent two hours, or two hundred quid’s worth, with the delectable Charlotte that night. It wasn’t just lovemaking. We chatted, ate, and drank quite a bit as well. I ended up having to call a taxi for her. I enjoyed the company and I enjoyed the sex. It wasn’t quite Molly, but it was very good. I soon built up a portfolio of five girls and it didn’t take long before I was a few thousand pounds poorer, but hey, I was helping to fund their education. I was feeling very philanthropic about the situation. After all, it was all going back into the system. I never looked at it as just paying for sex. In my mind, I was helping fund someone’s career. Surely that can only be a good thing?
I called the rather voluptuous Nicola that evening after I had phoned in sick. It took a couple of glasses of Famous Grouse to pluck up the courage. She was a bit more expensive than the others, but a lot more adventurous and she really seemed to enjoy what we did. She would always take the lead and that’s what I wanted that evening, someone to take the lead and take me to dreamland, just so I could forget. Even if it was only for an hour, she did just that for me and for that hour I forgot Daniel was dead.
Would he ever forgive me? Of course, he would. It’s Daniel we’re talking about.
I lay in my bed naked after Nicola had left, feeling quite a bit better. In fact, it was probably the best I had felt since Daniel had died. I started dozing even though it was still rather early and I had not had a particularly tiring day. As I was dozing I was thinking about if Daniel could have seen what I’d gotten up to. He knew about my funding the students. I was beginning to wonder if he had started funding in that way as well, as I knew he wasn’t getting much from Molly. Daniel didn’t judge, he never did. He would just tap me on the back and tell me not to get caught, always with a snigger on his face.
I didn’t really understand that, as I didn’t think I was committing any crime. I think he understood that I had needs that even he could not have fulfilled. I would love to know if he followed my lead. I guess I never will know now. I told Daniel everything about me, other than wanting to see Molly’s nipple. I don’t think he would have appreciated that. Oh and one other thing, but for now that will have to remain a secret.
The sound of what I thought was a door slamming woke me. I wasn’t really asleep, though, I was in that drifting mode, where you can’t stop your mind racing. I shot up in bed, the lights were still on and the bedroom door was closed, but that bore no significance at the time. I went to the bathroom, swilled my face and grabbed my dressing gown from the back of the door. I needed nicotine, so I made a coffee and took it out on the veranda, along with my cigarettes. I was soon staring at the city as I smoked. Wondering what it was she was up to.
It was then I first felt it. I thought it had just gotten chilly the first time and I shivered, wrapping my dressing gown around me, before realising the night was still, and the cold breeze I felt was actually coming from inside my apartment. I went into the living area of my apartment, closing the veranda doors behind me. It was cold, I was cold and the room was cold. I knew what it meant. I could feel it and something was telling me to embrace it. It was Daniel, he was here and he hadn’t forgotten me. He still cared after all, not like that wife of his. She didn’t care.
I wanted to somehow reach out to him. Tell him I loved him and was going to miss him, but the room soon became warm again and I knew he had gone. I sat on my sofa trying to take in what I had just experienced, when my phoned beeped.
You’ve heard the expression, “jump out of your skin?” well I almost did. There was only one person assigned to my phone with that text tone and he was dead.
A dead man had just texted me.
“Good on you buddy!”
See, I told you he would approve.
***
Chapter 9 – Daniel
There was something positively mesmerising about watching Jake’s ass ride up and down as he mercilessly ploughed all his frustrations and anger into that lovely, young, “professional” lady. That had always
been Jake’s way of dealing with everything in life that didn’t go quite the way he planned – get drunk, get laid, and forget everything. He’d always said, “Danny boy, there ‘ain’t nothing gonna make you forget your problems quicker than a bottle of scotch and a hot pussy.”
Tortured Minds Page 4
