Violating the Honor Code

"Well, howdy do, little lady. What are you doing to my little brother?"

She didn't hear him. I continued squirming, and finally pointed behind her. She glanced in a mirror, saw the hirsute Troll wearing his towel and flip-flops, carrying his shower supplies. She dove over me to the other side of my bed. She huddled against me and pulled the bed sheet for cover. She blushed from her head to her toes.

Troll loved the show. "What you got there, little brother? Who is this sweet thang?"

"Give it a rest, Troll. This is Imogene. Can you give us some privacy?"

Troll leered at Imogene, which made her adjust the bed clothes tightly around her.

"You see, little brother, I need the room right now. So, I suggest you and Miss Double D's find some place else to screw." He snatched at her sheet, but Imogene pulled it close. Troll humphed to himself, and knelt down to his closet safe. "Putting my valuables away." He looked over his shoulder to assure I wasn't watching. He didn't seem to care that Imogene paid close attention. As he stood up, his towel slipped a bit.

"Whoops, you almost got to see a real man there, missy." He made a big deal of readjusting the towel.

"Don't be a prick, Troll. Give us five minutes to dress, and we'll be out of here."

Instead, he started doing pull ups on the rings. With each dip, the towel slipped lower. "You see I'm busy. Just get out. Dressed or not dressed, your call." His eyes feasted on Imogene's curves beneath the bed sheet.

I gathered our clothes, and stood in front to block Troll's view. Imogene slipped out of bed, her back to Troll. The mirrors made her modesty pointless. Even I could see her reflected from every angle on each wall though she was behind me. When she saw that she was completely exposed, her whole body turned pink, making her look slightly feverish. I couldn't protect her unless Troll left the room. She was vulnerable, so tiny through the waist though her hips curved sensuously. Her tits seemed enormous, and the pink nipples stood obscenely erect. Her pubic hair made a rough triangle until she raised her generous thigh to put on her slacks. She pulled on her sweater and her shoes, not bothering with any undergarments. After each piece of clothing, she stood erect to measure the effect on herself, on Troll and on me, until she was fully clothed. She took so much time to dress, I believed she enjoyed being ogled by that odious dwarf.

While I finished dressing, she glared at Troll who by now was sweating profusely on the rings.

"Like...something you see...missy?" he huffed. "I like...what I see."

I held her back. She shook my hand off her shoulder and approached Troll. When he pulled himself up, his groin was almost to her face. He held the pose. "I feel...something slipping...again." He dipped, the towel lowered a bit more.

Imogene's eyes never left the towel. I waited for her at the door and waved futilely in the mirrors to attract her attention. A devilish smile played on her lips.

Troll said, "I think...she wants to stay...little brother." He pulled himself up again so that his groin was again chin-level for Imogene. Imogene put her hands on his furry thighs and began to move her palms up the inside of his legs, bringing a moan from Troll and stirring life from beneath the towel. "Yes!"

Imogene then whipped off his towel with a flourish. Troll collapsed onto the floor, stubbing his toe on a 10-pound weight. Then he unbent and stood so she could admire his full glory.

She was half way out the door then leaned back in. She took a full leisurely gander at him, her tongue at the edge of her lips unconsciously, then held her thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart. She shook her head, an exaggerated sadness on her face. I pulled her away.

"Bitch!" The door slammed and bounced open again. "Cunt!"

She laughed as we ran down the hall. I shook my head.

"I'm a dead man," I told her as we walked the quad.

She kissed my cheek.

I flinched. My cheek? Had I been demoted to Professor Heinz status by this fiasco?

She must have noticed my concern, because she signed,"I'll baby you, lover man."

I did like the sound of that. After all, there were only five or so months until Troll graduated. It's possible I could avoid him until then. Highly unlikely, but possible. I had nightmares of him in a loin cloth tracking me and carrying a club or a fraternity paddle. Wearing flip-flops, of course.

"Where is camera?" she asked.

I shook my head.

She frowned, and her face darkened. She punched my shoulder, and signed the equivalent of "asshole." I was surprised I knew the sign, but maybe I gleaned it from the context.

"I'll get it back. I'll get it."

"When, asshole?"

I shrugged. "Soon."

"Not good enough." She bit her lower lip, and I could tell the wheels were turning in her honey-blond head.

# # #

The next morning, I went to class and afterward watched Imogene promenading for the science students, wearing those black yoga pants that caressed her ass intimately and a turtleneck sweater looking knit onto her curves a stitch at a time. She carried her innocent-looking backpack brimming with recently snatched goodies. Probably because I was keeping an eye peeled for Troll, I couldn't fully enjoy her performance the way I used to. I know she saw me, but she didn't run to greet me, either. I guess she had other places to be. I worried how to get my clothes, my books, my calculator and especially my video camera. What if Troll starting snooping at the video files?

After lunch I found a quiet place to study to take my mind off the Troll problem. I must have been really engaged, because the winter sun was setting before I left the science hall. I gathered my things and trudged to Imogene's dorm. She hadn't answer her phone or the texts, so I really didn't expect to find her at her room.

But when I opened the door, she beamed at me, and with a flourish showed me what she had done. Inside her closet, she had placed all my clothes from the frat house. In a chest of drawers, she had made room for my unmentionables. Even my missing textbooks had magically reappeared. The calculator was on a pillow.

"Are you crazy? What about Troll?"

"You stay here with me, lover man."

I struck my forehead with my palm. "Too risky! Are you okay?"

She kissed me in reply.

"Don't ever go back there. What if Troll saw you?"

She brushed her palms like she was whisking away a bit of dust. "Psh."

"I love you, but you are crazy!"

She held up both hands to get my attention, and gave me her most naive look. "Okay?"

What could I say? Of course it was okay, now that she was safe. At least for the time being. I held her tightly, amazed at the risk she took.

Imogene pointed to the walls where a half dozen of Troll's mirrors had been placed. She waggled her eyebrows.

So, she did like those mirrors.

She slipped off her shoes, and tilted her hips side to side. I twirled my finger, and she turned around so I could see her black-clad ass. Actually I could see any part of her I wished thanks to the mirrors.

Silent applause, and she bowed magnanimously to me.

She turned her backside to me again and peeled off the yoga pants, an inch at a time. By the time her luscious thighs were revealed, my pants were feeling much too tight. Still she continue, drawing the pant leg slowly down her each calf, then kicking herself free. Her thumbs notched her fluorescent green thong, and stretched it seductively before bending forward, straight-legged, and pulling them swiftly down. She was clean shaven! She covered her small, pouty mouth with her hand, as if she were surprised at finding herself bottomless in front of me. She tugged at the edges of her sweater, but it didn't begin to cover her nether lips. What else could she do? She sat her bare bottom on my lap, swiveled her hips until my dick felt ready to burst the zipper.

She got up, turned her butt cheeks to me and slapped a hand on each one, leaning forward so I had wonderful view. She fingered the edge of her sweater and began the same slow, inch-by-inch reveal of her magnificent hooters. When she was completely nude, she twirled the sweater over her head and tossed it onto her desk.

There, for the first time, I saw the camera's red light burning and its aperture gaping. She was performing for me, sure, but capturing it all for our later enjoyment.

Then next to the camera I saw two items that turned my blood cold. Imogene may have been squatting, spreading my knees apart, but I saw only trouble. Big trouble in the form of a troll doll and Troll's magic hair goo.

My phone rang, and I knew who it was before checking the screen.

"Little brother, you dickwad. I know you took my stuff. Nobody touches my stuff!"

I had nothing to say. Good thing, because my mouth was like cotton. I listened, but watched Imogene stroking the inside of my thighs while she demurely looked at me.

"You've got 24 hours to return my stuff. All of it. Plus, I want that camera and everything on it. That's the price you pay if you don't want a world of pain for you and your slutty twat girlfriend. 24 hours! You can keep the mirrors." He hung up.

Imogene rubbed herself up my body until she reached my neck, and then began kissing. I stood up and tried to turn away, but she held me close.

"Don't, Imogene! We have trouble."

Her eyes asked what was wrong.

"Not you. That! Those!" I pointed to Troll's stuff. "We have to give them back."

She shrugged, not taking it seriously.

"And he wants the camera."

"Camera? No! Ours!"

"He wants it and what's on it."

"Why? Why? He can't."

"You know why. He wants to see you."

"No!" Her lips were firm, and her nostrils flared. She began to pace, oblivious to her own nudity."Tell him no! His stuff okay. Camera no!"

I pulled her close to me to calm her. She was restless in my arms and I was restless in my mind.

"When? How long?"

"Tomorrow. 24 hours."

She bit her thumb, then relaxed a little, and stretched languorously in my embrace. My mind tumbled between finding a way to return Troll's things without getting pummeled, and paying attention to the naked woman on my lap.

"It's okay. Really. It's okay." She kissed my neck.

I held her tightly, but felt guilty that I wasn't protecting her. God knows what Troll will do with the video. Imagine the number of chortling, smirking jocks who would be jerking off to Imogene's sexy body. Would they slow it down so they could salivate over her every private curve and precious fold? How long until the video went viral? How would Imogene feel about being exposed to the world? Certainly not "okay." She was usually so shy about her body.

She tried to get my attention. She pulled my face to her. "Fuck me, lover man."

"I want to, but..." I pointed to my crotch. Overthinking things can be a real deflator.

She persisted. "Fuck me!" She grabbed my crotch and rubbed aggressively. It was nice, very nice, but not enough. Oh, God! I was relegated to Professor Heinz status!

I lifted my shoulders, palms up. "Not your fault, beautiful."

Not an acceptable answer.

She unzipped me, tugged my trousers down, and began gobbling my knob like a fat man with a turkey leg. When it showed increasing signs of aggressive interest, she pumped it with her delicate palms, and teased it with deft fingering. She pulled my pants completely off and pushed me onto her bed. She straddled me, stroking my cock with increasing rapidity.

Okay. She was good, and I was nearly ready.

"Fuck me. Lover man."

I entered her easily, she was that lubricious, and she moaned from somewhere deep inside where words don't live. She rode me with her eyes closed. Her fingers tugged her own nipples, distending them. She shuddered violently and gasped several short breaths. The muscles leading to her pussy trembled.

But she wasn't done yet.

She flipped us both over, in that boring missionary position that didn't seem anywhere near as boring while I was lying on her luscious body. We rocked in a steady rhythm. I intentionally made each thrust a deliberate, complete, but agonizingly slow entry and withdrawal. She pounded the bed with her fists. Her mouth gaped open, but no sounds came out. Then she grasped my ass, and pulled me deeply toward her. I pushed until I imagined I felt every bit of her vagina and stayed deep within her.

She growled loudly, a sound I'd not heard from her before. Her eyes were red and dry. Suddenly, I felt her fingertip probe my anus. Good God! I felt pinned between her delving digit and her pulsing pussy. Her cheeks blew in and out, her eyes narrowed, and she jammed her finger deeper into my ass. I groaned, and came inside her for what seemed like a full minute. When I had been depleted, I collapsed on her firm, heaving boobs while she squirmed her pussy around my still twitching cock. I was exhausted, but before I slept I had one question.

Now, where in hell had she learned that trick?

Some questions are better unasked and unanswered.

We lay gasping for breath, then she giggled and laughed. Her happiness made me start laughing, too. And you know how it is. Once two naked people both start laughing, it's impossible to stop.

"You fuck okay, lover man."

"I need more practice."

"I can help you. Again now?"

I may have panicked. Oh, God! "No, but soon." A little nap first, then maybe.

She kissed the tip of my penis and to its everlasting credit it trembled responsively. She giggled again, but came up to kiss my lips and snuggle her luxurious, warm body into mine. I was tired, but my mind wouldn't let go of Troll's threats.

"You think too much, lover man."

So, I pulled the covers tightly around us. Her breathing became regular. It was only 9:00 and here we were in bed like an old married couple. Kind of nice usually, but my brow furrowed.

Troll loved his showers and couldn't miss a night at the gym. So, if I timed it just right, I could sneak in, return his stuff and get out of there without meeting him. Forget giving him the camera, at least for a while. I knew he would catch up with me eventually. And what had he said? "A world of pain" for me, and for Imogene.

I believed him.

Imogene slept deeply next to me. I loved that she felt so comfortable sleeping nude. I stroked her hips and marveled at hourglass curves. I was one lucky fellow, I thought as I drifted off to sleep. Deep, satisfied, exhausted sleep.

I awoke with a start. No Imogene. I was alone in her bed. I checked the time — 3:30 am. I prayed Imogene had just gone down the hall to the bathroom, but I feared otherwise. When I turned on the light, the camera and the Troll's two treasures were gone.

I threw on some clothes and my new jacket. How long had she been gone? Had she had set me up? Had she used sex to exhaust me just so she could leave? It worked. I had been dead to the world.

I texted her. No answer.

So, how soon after I slept had she slipped out? It could have been anytime since, what, 10:00 or 11:00 pm?

I would have thought she could have returned by now. Just drop the stuff off and leave. What was she thinking?

I texted again. "STAY AWAY FROM TROLL."

She can't reason with the Troll. No one can. It'll just anger him. And you don't want him angrier than he was when I talked to him.

I ran through a quiet winter campus. The dorm windows were uniformly dark. It had begun to snow, dampening the sound of my running. I saw my frat house. One window was still lit. The room Troll and I shared. At the edge of the lawn, I saw the full-length window which was undraped and cracked open. He likes the cold.

There was a pale form in the room. Not in front of the window, but recessed. Snowflakes dropped into my eyes and I couldn't process what I saw immediately. I blinked my eyes clear and the pieces came together in one shocking instant. It was Imogene, suspended between the rings, her arms outstretched. I saw her breasts jutting proudly, her ass shapely and sensuous. She was nude, displayed shamelessly for anyone who happened to walk past the frat house once the morning broke.

I ran up the four flights of stairs. The door to my old room gaped open. It was freezing in the room. Imogene hung by her arms, her toes barely touching the floor. She was cold, pale and exhausted. Each heavy breath raised her breasts until she exhaled and they settled. Who knows how long she had been up there? Goosebumps covered her legs which were taut as her toes stretched to find some support from the floor. Her blouse, skirt, and sweater lay ripped in pieces strewn on the floor.

Troll didn't see me, but Imogene lifted her tired head just enough. She blushed pathetically, and it stirred something inside me.

"Where's my stuff?" Troll asked in a husky, angry whisper. He slapped her ass with a fraternity paddle. The crack echoed through the hallway. "Tell me now, and you can go. Otherwise..." He smacked her again.

I roared as I ran through the doorway directly into Troll, catching him unaware. He crashed into his desk, and a bone in his left arm cracked. "Let her down, you asshole! We'll give you your stuff!" I punched at his face, and he blocked me with his good arm.

Even injured, he still had the advantage. He choked off my wind, and I clawed at his right arm, then at his face. Through the doorway I saw a fraternity brother in the hallway, drawn to the noise and shocked by the dangling woman exposed before him.

Troll kicked at the door and it swung closed for a moment. I punched his left arm hoping to hit the break. I did. He screamed and I escaped his grip. I looked for a weapon, and picked up a ten-pound weight. Before I could heft it, Troll swept me with his leg and I crashed to the floor.

In the doorway, there were three fraternity brothers now, watching the battle and the suspended nude prize. I kicked the door closed.

Troll used Imogene's legs to help him stand, but kept outside the ambit of my reach with the weight.

"Let her down, Troll. What were you thinking?"

"What was I thinking? What were you thinking? Where is my stuff?"

"You can have your damn stuff. But I swear to God you're going pay for this."

The door swung open and a small crowd had gathered. A few brothers used their phones to capture the moment.

"Call for help! Then get the fuck out of here, you perverts!"

Troll and I circled each other warily. I looked out the window, and it was obvious the word had spread. A crowd below was gawking up, pointing and flashing cameras.

"You're a sick bastard, Troll."

"Me? I wasn't the one strung her up for fun. You're the sick one little brother. How could you leave her like that, knowing I'd find her?"

"I didn't do that to her. You can't lie your way out of this."

But something was not making sense.

The crowd outside the door and below grew restless, sensing the performance had reached its crescendo. In the hallway, I heard them talking in awe. "That the girl from the quad?"

"Oh, yeah. That's her. I'd recognize those tits anywhere."

"And that ass. Jesus!"

An officer from the university's stellar campus police department pushed his way through the frat boys, and acted like he was used to seeing a nude woman strung up like this on a regular basis. "Break it up. Break it up. Let's give them a little privacy. Go on, now."

The officer radioed his report. "You're not gonna believe this."

Troll held his arm gingerly, but was able to close the blinds on the full length window. We heard cat-calls and booing from outside. I found how the ropes were tied to the wall, looped through the rings, and knotted on Imogene's wrists. The officer was eager to help. He lifted the naked woman to take pressure off the ropes while I untied them from the wall. When loosened, she collapsed into the officer's arms. I covered her with my new jacket. She stumbled onto my bed, shaking from the cold and trauma.