Anything For Georgetown Part three
Monica wants to get into Georgetown. The new guidance counselor wants to help--HIS way.
“This school has a reputation for being very good, and we want to uphold that. You’re not helping matters any by being mean to students and flaunting your sexuality.”
“It’s a crime to be sexy? You sound like Brenda. I can’t help it if she’s ugly.”
“But you can stop your behavior.”
“And what if I don’t want to?”
Houlihan was still sweating. “I went to Georgetown, you know.”
This caught Monica off guard. “Really? That’s my top school! I so want to go there!”
Houlihan regarded Monica for a moment. “I know some people there who owe me favors. I could probably get you into the school no problem.”
“Really? Oh my God! That would be so great!”
“But—what are you willing to do for Georgetown? This harassing of another student isn’t going to help your case. And giving out lap dances for boys sounds, well …”
“Would it make you feel any better if I told you I was saving some of that money for college?”
“Your parents have good jobs. I know Georgetown is expensive … but lap dancing?”
“Sure. Why not? And maybe I’ll get a gig as a dancer to work my way through school.”
Houlihan’s forehead was starting to bead with sweat. “Do your … boys satisfy you?”
Throughout this whole conversation, Monica was wondering where this was leading. She was used to guys hitting on her. But Houlihan had that indignant, “you must behave” vibe going on…but there was something else too. The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Something clicked in her mind.
“Well,” she started, slowly crossing one leg over the other, and nonchalantly sliding the short skirt even higher on her thigh, “sometimes. I mean, I have to really tell them what I want, and they think it’s weird, so we do it the usual way.”
“You know, guy on top. Missionary. Sometimes they touch me the way I want them to, but other times … it’s like they’re not listening.”
Houlihan shifted in his seat. He noticed his heart rate was up. “What if …” he stopped.
“What if, what?”
“What if you tell me what you want?”
“For real? I’m not telling you that.” Monica laughed, but there was a thrill of excitement inside of her.
“You want to go to Georgetown, right? I can make that happen. I can make that happen, but, you’ve got to give me something in return.” Now the bridge was crossed; now he could get into trouble. But he’d read her file; he’d read her essay on her choice of college. It was just one, unlike the other seniors who had listed their college choices with the clinical detachment of a scientist. Monica’s essay had fairly oozed with passion about Georgetown and its alumni and so forth. It was like she’d written a love letter to the school.
“What do I have to give you?”
Houlihan stared at her. “To be honest, I don’t like your attitude. I’ve met plenty of girls like you; spoiled princesses, you pick on other girls who aren’t as pretty as you are. You wrap boys around your finger for the fun of it. If you want Georgetown, you’ll get it. But you need to keep your mouth shut about it. About our deal. If you agree to be punished for your behavior, punished my way, I’ll make sure you get into Georgetown. But you have to give up the lap dances, the photos, the shenanigans with the boys.
“You can really get me into Georgetown?”
Houlihan thought about the frat initiation he’d gone through. He’d had to crawl through the legs of his frat brothers, who were all lined up, each armed with paddles. He’d had to make his way down a sidewalk on a street lined with frat houses, and crawl a block, while he crawled through each of his brother’s legs, and got a smacking from each and every one of them. The first one smacked his bottom, then ran down the street to get in line behind the last frat brother. Then the second one did the same thing, so that all the way down the damn block, he was on his knees, getting smacked.
At the end of it, he’d collapsed on his belly. His bruised bottom ached for days. But what he was most ashamed (but fascinated by) was the erection he had at the end of it all. He had managed to hide it by taking off his sweater, and tying the arms so they draped in front of his crotch. That, plus he bent over, because the pain was so excruciating, he thought he’d vomit. That memory had flashed through his mind in about two seconds. Looking into Monica’s beautiful face snapped him back to attention.
“Yes. But you’ll have to be punished my way. If you say one word about it, you can forget about Georgetown, and I’ll not be giving you any ringing endorsements.”
“So what’s my punishment?” Monica asked it in a flirty way. Getting it on with this guy wouldn’t be bad at all.
“Spanking. For starters. I think your actions frustrate a lot of people. I’m going to try and make you understand that.”
“Really? You’re going to spank me? Oooh, I’m so scared.”
Houlihan got up from his desk and made his way over to the ancient door. He locked it, put the chain across it. These rooms were pretty soundproof.
“I know a few people at Georgetown who owe me favors. I got them out of some tricky situations. You are as good as in. But you still need to keep your grades up.”
Monica signed. “You know something? I’ve always wanted the guys to do kinky stuff with me, but they never seemed interested.”
“Kinky like, how?”
“Well, I’ve always had this fantasy of being tied up and tickled.”
Houlihan’s mouth didn’t drop open. But it was like this girl had read his mind. He’d always wanted to do that to a woman, but none of the few girls he’d dated had taken him up on it. The women he’d met at some fetish sites never looked like their pictures. Why was it the ugly as sin types would do anything and the gorgeous ones wouldn’t? Easy, you dope. The uglies have to do that in order to get any sort of companionship at all. The beautiful ones, like this little bitch in front of him, could afford to be conservative and prim and proper, even though she wasn’t. He took a deep breath. “How do you want to be tickled?”
Monica looked him right in the eye. “Very slowly. Very, very slowly.”
Houlihan’s sizeable penis was starting to rise. “How about if I spank you every time you flinch or squirm?”
“Every time?” Breathed Monica. “Promise?”
Houlihan slid out the bottom drawer and took out a smaller version of the paddle he’d been nailed with by the frat guys and laid it on the desk. It was Georgetown blue, and it was just the right thickness, just the right heft. He didn’t necessarily want to hurt her. No, it was about satisfaction for him, spanking a legitimately naughty girl. And when she said she wanted to be tickled, that was the kicker. Spanking and tickling was his big thing, thanks to a bunch of frat guys and a stripper he’d seen years ago who knew how to work a feather boa. It slid all over her skin, the tanned, taut skin of her perfect body. He’d paid for a lap dance from her, and she delicately teased his inner thighs and brushed her breasts against his face until he made a mess of his pants.
What he wouldn’t really admit is that he had hang-ups when it came to women. Being the oldest, when his second sister came along, she had health problems from an early age. That, combined with the fact that his mother lost his first sister, and was eaten up with guilt about it, spelled doom for Gabe. When the second sister came along, he was pretty much out of the picture. And her health problem, juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, meant that since her mother couldn’t cure the disease, little sis would get everything she wanted. His mother would deny him, but not her.
So she got the car for her sixteenth birthday, even though he was the oldest; he’d had to walk to his part time job in high school until he had saved up for a battered sub-compact. It meant studying his head off if he wanted to get out of town to a better school. It meant taking out student loans because he didn’t get all the scholarships he needed. Oh, his parents gave him a little money, but little sis got to live at home and go to the expensive Catholic college and continue to live at home where she lived still.
He felt his sister and mother had ganged up against him; he sided with dad, and until he left home, pretty much tried to make his mom and sis as miserable as possible. Tensions escalated and even though his mother was a good woman, excellent cook, and had managed to keep them afloat when his dad was laid off, the scars were there. She didn’t abuse him, no, one couldn’t say that, but there was the belief that she would have preferred the other sister to live, and to have had two daughters.
So, he had a certain resentment for girls like the one in front of him. Monica would get everything she wanted in life. For that alone, he hated her. That’s why his plan made sense to him, but was completely evil. He wanted to punish her. He had to punish her. Her privileged upbringing, her beauty, her intelligence. She would fucking walk right into Georgetown, while he had to beg and scrape and scramble his way there.
He would make her pay on her journey to Georgetown.