Yes Miss Murphy Ch. 05

"I love you and worship you, Goddess Miss Murphy."

Then she turned around and bent at the waist to display her beautiful ass. "Blow kisses to my ass to say good night, and wish you could kiss it." I kissed the empty air, and then blew, again and again. Finally Mandy reached down to her pussy and fingered it a little, then came around behind the sofa and wiped her finger below my nose. Then she removed her lacey panties and brought them over my head. She made sure the crotch part was just under my nose, and said, "Now smell the pussy that owns you, as you sit here all night, watching her on the screen. You might manage to get a little sleep, who knows." Then I heard her behind me, switching off lights, and leaving the living room, presumably to join Katherine in the master bedroom upstairs.

For a moment, I thought of Randall... at this point likely asleep in a hotel in Nanceburg. What would he think if he found out what had gone on in his living room that night? Eight months ago, if I'd been told by some sort of fortune-teller, that one night I would sleep over at Randall Mullens' house while he was out of town, I would have wondered only one thing: Where will Becky be that night, to make such a thing possible? Other than that, I would have been excited, imagining a night of hot sex in Katherine's bed. I could never have imagined this.

But then I forgot all about Dean Randall Mullens, as I watched his wife and my goddess engage in three hours of sexy play, for the enjoyment of probably hundreds of men, who kept them continually horny and naughty with their token tips. A sound would ring out every time one of them tipped, and that sound peppered the entire show, as SexyCallie and PussyKat kissed, rubbed, fingered, and licked each other. Sometimes one spanked the other, sometimes they scissored, sometimes they 69ed, sometimes they changed outfits so that the men could tip to have them strip yet again. The climax of the show was SexyCallie using the hitachi wand on PussyKat to make her cum, and squirt all over. I was nowhere near sleepy even at the end of this incredible show, but the whole time I was tortured by the weight of my cuffed and tied hands,lying on top of my genitals, combined with the unyielding steel tube keeping my dick from pointing upward, as it twitched, and drooled onto the plastic.

Some time during the second run of the show, I nodded off, but all through the night, I would wake up periodically, my neck sore from not being able to lay my head down. My head bobbed up and down all night, as I slept in little snatches of time, of unknown length, and every time I would open my eyes I would be tormented by the sexy scene on the screen in front of me.

For the next two months, Mandy intensified her domination of, and control over, me. Of course I continued doing virtually her entire job at TCC. But in addition, she made me call her cell phone several times every weekend, at prescribed times of the day. Sometimes she answered and sometimes she didn't. If she didn't, I was to leave a message telling her I loved her and worshipped her. If she did, she would give me some little task to do, like go in the bathroom, get on my hands and knees and kiss the floor 100 times, or go to our laundry room, find a pair of Becky's dirty panties, put them over my head and breathe them for a full minute.

In addition, her financial domination was becoming ever more reckless. She and Katherine told me to tell Becky that the math department at TCC had gotten approval to hire several more instructors, and I'd been asked to serve on a hiring committee, which would meet late Friday afternoon for the next several weeks. I was tell her that the meetings could run quite late. What actually happened on these afternoons is that I would report to Mandy and Katherine at 4:00, and they would take me to the mall for shopping sprees using my credit cards... or I should say my and Becky's credit cards, and bank accounts. They would have me carrying all their shopping bags and trudging behind them from store to store, looking like an idiot. They would go out for dinner on my dime, while they made me sit with all the bags on my lap and just drink water. To top it off, when they dropped me off, back at the campus parking lot, they would demand a thousand dollars in cash (which I had secured ahead of time), EACH. Then they would pretend to deliberate over whether they thought my balls needed emptying, ultimately deciding that another week wouldn't hurt me, so they'd reconsider next Friday, provided, of course, that I once again brought them a grand apiece.

Then came the Wednesday afternoon, very late in the semester, when the TCC mathematics department assembled for a very important meeting. We were told that every full-time instructor, who did not have a class at the meeting time, was expected to attend. Katherine was not present, as she did have a class, but Mandy and I were both there. And, to everyone's surprise, Dean Randall Mullens was also in attendance. At first, I thought the subject, or subjects, of the meeting, must be very important indeed. But then I considered the possibility that he might just be there to pass along the proceedings to his wife, since she could not attend. None of us knew the purpose of the meeting.

Our department chair, Richard Elbens, called the meeting to order. "Three weeks ago," he began, "a group of students came to my office to complain about their math course. They said the instructor was ..." Here he paused, and then turned his eyes to the instructor in question, as he said, "Mandy Murphy."

"But," he continued, "they told me that Mandy was hardly ever actually present, and instead they got instruction from a teaching assistant, whom they felt was quite incompetent. When they told me this, I said, 'Teaching assistant? TCC does not have teaching assistants.' Be that as it may, they said, nevertheless the actual teaching was coming from a man called 'Davey', whom they understood to be the teaching assistant."

My heart stopped, and all the color drained from my face. This was it. This was the moment I knew would eventually come, when everything I had built up, in my entire adult life, would begin to crash down. I cast a furtive glance at Mandy, who sat on the other side of the conference table, several seats down. She was stone-faced. If she was concerned, she didn't show it.

"They told me," continued Richard, "that this Davey was a bit disorganized in his teaching, but that the worst of it was the wildly inconsistent and, they felt, unfair manner in which he scored students' papers, and applied course policies. They said that some students got points back on assignments and tests even when their work was clearly wrong, and were also allowed to turn in assignments or take tests late, with no penalty, while they received no such grace for the very same errors or offenses. Moreover, they said, blatant cheating had occurred during tests, and this 'teaching assistant' [Richard used air quotes at this point] had turned a blind eye, as they felt he *must* have seen what was going on.

"I told the students that I would investigate this situation. And during the last three weeks, I, Dean Mullens here, and two faculty from another department, have monitored Mandy Murphy's classrooms and office hours, with one of us passing by her classroom, or her office, at least once per hour that she is expected to be in either place. What we found is that over the course of these entire three weeks, Mandy Murphy has indeed honored her required ten weekly office hours, and has been available for her students. However... over three weeks, of all the hours she is supposed to be in a classroom teaching her classes, we found her there only five times. All the other times... we found David Thompson there instead.

"Last week I asked three of David Thompson's students if they would come to my office and bring at least one of their graded homework papers. Each of them did, and I compared their papers to those of Mandy Murphy's students and determined that the same person had graded both sets. It was clear from the handwriting and symbolism used on both sets of papers that the same grader had scored them. So... this grader... would have to be you..." At that point, he looked at me, and fixed his gaze. "Correct, David?" I just nodded.

At that point, Dean Mullens took over the questioning, and asked, "Would you care to explain this situation, Miss Murphy?"

Mandy replied in a manner that stunned all of us. She asked, "What is there to explain?"

"Well," said Randall, "I think it's quite obvious what there is to explain. We would like you to explain why it is that David Thompson is in your classrooms for over 90 percent of the time you are expected to be there, while you are absent. We would like you to explain why he is apparently doing all the grading for your courses, and administering all the policies, while you are apparently doing nothing more than a bit of tutoring during your office hours, and one or two hours a week of in-class instruction?"

"Well, we don't always get what we'd like, do we? I have no explanation to give."

Again we all sat stunned, amazed by Mandy's defiance. Then she had a question for Dean Mullens: "Do you have any evidence that I have violated any of TCC's policies? Can you quote any college policy that I have violated?"

"Well," said Randall, "what you've violated is the expectation, when we hired you, that YOU would actually administer instruction in your own courses."

"But my question," countered Mandy, "is do you have any legal grounds, on the basis of any state or federal law, or on the basis of college policy, to discipline me, or even question me in this matter?"

Dean Mullens, and Richard Elbens, looked at Mandy, and at each other, stupidly, and the rest of us shifted uncomfortably in our chairs.

"If not," said Mandy, "then this meeting is a waste of everyone's time. If so, then you can let me know, and hereafter talk to my lawyer."

Since the point in the meeting where I had understood its purpose, sweat had rolled from my armpits in rivulets, soaking my shirt on the sides, and my hands became ever clammier. Along with everyone else, I now sat in awe of Mandy's response, realizing that indeed, there was no college policy that addressed a situation such as ours, in which one instructor was effectively carrying out all the duties of another. Nothing in our policies strictly prohibited such a thing... because such a thing had never happened, nor had anyone ever anticipated that it would! We all realized that Mandy's strategy here was brilliant. But... I also realized that at any moment, Richard and Randall would turn the focus of the interrogation to me.

Indeed, Richard spoke next. "Well, then... David... Would you care to explain why you have-"

"Don't answer that, David," Mandy broke in. "For the same reasons that you have no grounds for questioning me in this matter, you have no grounds for questioning David, either. Come on, David, we're leaving." With that, Mandy shoved her chair back and stood up.

Randall tried to prevent Mandy from derailing the meeting by interjecting, "Ah, but wait! We DO have grounds to question David because not only..."

"Nooo, you DON'T," argued Mandy, with raised voice. "David, get up. This meeting is over." I did get up.

"Hold it right there, David," said Randall, beginning to raise his voice as well. "We DO have grounds because David is the one who... it's, it's not because David has been teaching your classes but ... but, but HE is the one ..."

"Come on, David," said Mandy, already walking briskly toward the door. I picked up my pace to follow her. Obviously I did not want to be subjected to the uncomfortable questioning that my department chair, and dean, had in store for me. But more than that, I realized Mandy was my only salvation here. My goddess was my salvation. The only chance we had, to keep our jobs, was to obstruct, and refuse to explain ourselves, letting them hang us with whatever words we might utter. It is a strategy I never would have thought of, and even if I HAD thought of it, I wouldn't have had the balls to carry it out. But Mandy did. And that was just one of the reasons I was so in love with her.

With my head slightly bowed as I walked, I followed Mandy's confident ass right out the door, as Dean Mullens shouted behind us. When the door shut, his insistent voice was gone, replaced by the clicking of Mandy Murphy's heels echoing through the hallway.