A Fistful Of Sand Book 1Chapter 18: The Price Of Friendship free porn video

Deuce sat at his favorite table at the campus coffee shop he frequented ... well, frequented over the past few months anyway. He wore the same black trench coat as always, and was scribbling away on his yellow legal pad as always. Sitting back, he brushed his scraggly, oily black hair out of his face, which always seemed to fall into his line of site. 'Always... ' he thought to himself. 'It's always the same.'

Taking a break from writing, he contemplated his appearance, scratching at the itchy whiskers covering his cheeks and neck. The black trench coat was just his latest affectation. For years it was a silk orchid he wore in his kimono, then that red sash across his toga. Years later it was a monocle ('What was I thinking when I thought THAT one up?!' ... then the zoot suit. Then it was that silly cravat. Usually he liked to dress UP, but a string of failures had taken their toll and his dress mirrored his lack of optimism: thus, the trench coat and legal pad.

"Going native..." he mused. Still, it allowed him to blend in nicely. The advent of the modern college was the perfect breeding ground for his research. Never before in history was there ever a greater convergence of raw mental and sexual energy than the modern residential campus.

He looked down at what he'd just finished writing, smiling at wittiness of his moniker...

"From the journal of Deuce X. Machinaw, Hand of God Inc., Research Division

"Some of us have theorized that for reasons beyond our limited comprehension, there are points in time and space where seemingly insignificant events converge, resulting in enormous, and often devastating occurrences. It is the global convergences that most are aware of, that make the news at least. But these also often happen on a much smaller scale and are of no less significance ... at least to those caught in their wake. Forgive my mixing of water metaphors, but like a pebble thrown into a pond, the ripples of small occurrences spread. When enough pebbles cause enough ripples, the resultant waves could capsize the largest ships. (As one of their quirkier sayings goes: A butterfly flapping its wings in China causes a hurricane in the Atlantic, blah, blah, blah. Really, their understanding of the universe is quite quaint at times.)

"Ah, but I wax poetic. I've often wondered if I have enough of a detached personality to adequately do my job. I can't but help connect with our subjects, much as they themselves would often connect with stray puppy dogs. It is not their fault, nor is it mine. We are what we are, after all. It nevertheless pains me when one stumbles. Much like the coach who distracts the referee to give his team the edge, I've been finding myself freer with the rules of this game this particular time around. Perhaps it is because it is a game that never should have begun. Like a top that has already been spun, we are all just waiting to see where it lands. (But when no one's looking, I've been tapping it with my finger... )

"Dr. Gregg Walters: a fascinating case. It is due to our own carelessness that he called forth the 'gift' (which he amusingly calls it). Really, we should have been more careful about what we leave lying around. Whether gift or curse remains to be seen ... but that is (and always has been) entirely up to him. And his young student, David ... poor David. He has not the capacity to understand the ramifications of the power he holds. Where it seems to have given Dr. Walters the strength to accept his own humanity, it has caused a nearly opposite effect in young David. While Dr. Walters has built human connections, David has torn them asunder in his pursuit of pleasure. And yet in terms of raw power, he has far surpassed the good Doctor. Is it better to be accurate with only a dagger or be near-sighted but with a machine gun? If the proper protocols had been followed, neither would have even been considered eligible candidates for study. And yet, here they are. 'Ad-hoc research' as they are fond of calling it. And it is because the decks were stacked against them that I feel no compunction against cheating every once in a while.

"But I digress. I have grown very fond of Dr. Walters and his 'family' as he's come to think of them. He refuses the powers he has, often letting others call the shots. In his world, he'd be a God ... at least within the limited scope we've allowed him ... and yet he defers. In many ways he is still a child ... a child more interested in the box his toy came in than the actual toy itself ... a child about to learn some painful lessons. But I wonder, does the beauty of this 'gift' demand a childlike innocence? Does the disintegration of the purity of relationships — black and white when young, muddied grey when adults — in fact corrupt any good that comes from these experiments?

"And as I observe him, I wonder if the parameters of all our research have been flawed. We always looked for the strong personalities, the leaders, those with the desire to control, those who see themselves as leaders — decisive. It is too bad the case of Dr. Walters was flawed from the beginning ... for the results hint that maybe we need to reevaluate our methodology.

So, let me continue my report. Dr. Walters and his 'family' were having a very good week. His desire to solve the mysteries of his power were bearing fruit and he was well on his way to saving the dig ... as if the answers he were seeking could be found in a fistful of sand.

"But, like strong magnets that were held apart in greasy fingers, events were destined to finally collide. And collide they did ... in a spectacular fashion.

"To paraphrase a ditty from their delightful little musical, Les Miserables: "Never kick a dog because he's just a pup/ You better run for cover when the pup grows up."

'Fucking Monday mornings!' Brittany Anderson thought to herself as she entered Dr. Walters' seminar ten minutes late. The classroom was quiet except for the 'scritch scratch' of pens and pencils on paper.

"Pop quiz," Dr. Walters said, handing her a Xeroxed copy of the exam. "Find a seat and get started. You've only got 10 minutes left." Brittany was too annoyed to even flirt with the professor.

She looked around the lecture hall, but Laura and Natalie were already flanked on either side as well as in front and in back by other students ... and Laura didn't even seem to be copying from her pledge sister. The popularity of the class was astounding. Sure Dr. Walters was probably the hottest teacher on campus ... but still, for fucking 'Intro to Anthropology!?'

In the back row there was an open seat next to that creepy guy in the black trench coat who always seemed to be taking far more notes than the boring lectures warranted. In a way, he kind of reminded her of Alan Rickman from "Dogma." There was no way she was going to sit by that social reject. There was also one seat open next to Laura's little friend Charli. She hadn't yet had time to ingratiate herself, but hopefully that loser was desperate enough for friends already...

Taking off her coat, she sat in the seat beside Charli and began pretending to write answers. From the corner of her mouth she whispered, "Let me copy."

Charli at first pretended not to hear. When Brittany kicked her foot and asked again, Charli turned slightly in her chair away from her. When Brittany asked yet again, even craning her neck to look over Charli's shoulder, Chad cleared his voice and asked a little too loudly, "Miss Anderson, is there a problem?"

Brittany blushed — not out of embarrassment, but in anger. 'The fucking nerve of that asshole! And the little shit is a year younger than me!' "No Chad, sorry. Just ... um ... asking to borrow a pencil." Charli was nice enough to play along and pull an extra pencil out from her bag. 'Shit. Guess I'll have to settle this the hard way ... and I'll bet Dr. Walters will be easy to get hard. Now as for this little cunt... '

"I'm really sorry Brittany. It's not you ... I just couldn't let someone cheat." Charli, Laura, Natalie, and Brittany were all standing in the hallway outside the lecture hall.

"Oh, it's okay. I understand." Brittany's tone was so sweet it was almost saccharine. "No hard feelings. I have to admit, not many would have the guts to say 'no' to me. You've got spine. I like that ... and you did cover for me in the end" Laura looked doubtfully at Brittany.

"So, we're okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay. Just a stupid little pop quiz anyway. Listen, we're having a party tomorrow night at the house. Live music and everything. Why don't you join us? It'll be a lot of fun. See you around nine? Kisses!" She kissed her fingers and waved bye to them before anyone could react. It wasn't so much an invitation as it was an expectation.

"Is she really okay, Laura? Something tells me she's not used to hearing people say 'no.'"

Laura regarded the situation and chose her response carefully given that Natalie was still with her. "No, she's doesn't often hear 'no' to her face. But, this quiz really doesn't amount to much in the class point total. Besides, it's an outdoor party, what harm could she do?"

"So we're still on for coffee tomorrow afternoon?"

Natalie's eyebrows raised, but Laura paid no attention. "Yeah ... but this time I get to pick the coffee place. If I didn't know better, I'd say you chose the Athenian on purpose!" Charli laughed, only after Laura winked. The fact was that Chari DID pick the Athenian BECAUSE they had such terrible coffee. That Laura sat through their first 'coffee date' and actually choked down a cup confirmed in Charli's mind that Laura's pursuit of friendship was sincere ... especially after their less-than friendly first meeting.

Natalie just frowned at her mentor's budding friendship with this loser. 'Laura is getting too chummy with this nerd. Maybe... ' An idea began to form in her head how she could ruin Laura before the end of the semester.

"So what did you think of my first quiz?"

"Wasn't too bad, Gregg. All the answers were in the class notes you provided. Heck, even if you never read the textbook, it still should have been an easy 'A.'" Gregg smiled at Charli. She just seemed so full of life, a pleasant switch from the recluse she used to be. Chad hovered nearby, looking like he wanted to touch her — hold hands or something — but carefully avoiding any public displays of affection given her student status and his assistant status.

Gregg flipped through some of the turned-in tests and frowned at the number of wrong answers he was already seeing. "So, what's on your agenda today?"

"Well, I'm meeting Heather at the clinic in a half-hour." She blushed instinctively ... as did Chad. Heather promised to take Charli to the clinic to get her a prescription for the pill. The idea of Chad ... or anybody else ... actually shooting their cum into her still weirded her out, but excited her at the same time.

Gregg caught the mood between the two ... as if they hadn't been all over each other all weekend as it was. The morning after their first time, Charli had healed enough that they could begin having sex in earnest. Lucky (poor?) Chad had unleashed a sexually repressed monster who was so new and so excited by every aspect of lovemaking, that for the rest of the weekend they only left Heather's bed for food. She still had plenty to learn, but Chad was plenty patient. Heather and Emily even joked on the rare occasions when they emerged from the bedroom that they were available for tutoring...

"You two know, I think there may be some work that needs to be done down in the archives. Could you two look for those missing files?" There were no missing files ... but they understood his suggestion. In a flash they were off, running toward the building's basement. No one ever went down there, and Chad had a key, so why not? They had a little time to spare.

It was 5:00am on Wednesday when Heather's phone rang. She answered it sleepily and then a few seconds later she handed it to Gregg. "It's for you."

"Dr. Walters?"

"Yeah ... Speaking," he yawned.

"I'm sorry for waking you. My name is Chen Du. Charli's roommate?" She sounded worried.

"Uh, yeah. What ... what's the matter?"

"It's Charli. Could you come over ... please?"

In just ten minutes Gregg was dressed and outside Charli's dorm, his backpack of course materials for the day slung over his shoulder. Chen came down the stairs and let him in. "I've never seen her like this. She's been crying all night ... making herself sick. She won't tell me what's wrong. I thought maybe she broke up with her boyfriend or something, so I didn't call him. Yours was the only other number I could find."

Chen led him into the dark dorm room. Indeed, Charli was lying face down on her bed in the old t-shirt and gym shorts she slept in. She was still shuddering. Beside the bed was her wastebasket, and indeed she had been getting sick. Moving it gingerly out of the way, Gregg sat on the edge of the bed and gently rubbed her back. "Chen, I don't mean to kick you out of your room but..."

"I understand. I'll be in the lounge ... just let me know if I can do anything."

Gregg tried to probe into Charli's mind, but he couldn't get through. It was as if Charli didn't want to remember and it was interfering with his ability to read her.

"Charli. It's me. Gregg. What's wrong honey? What happened?

Charli settled a little bit and finally managed to pull her red, tear-smeared face out of her pillow. Seeing that it was Gregg, she could only utter, "Oh God!" and burst into a fresh bout of hysterical tears, clinging desperately to his neck.

There was nothing Gregg could do but hold her and rock her like a newborn babe. After a long while, there was a noticeable lessening in her crying, so Gregg tried again. "Charli? Please, tell me what happened. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

Finally through sniffs and stutters, Charli started to relate the events of the previous night. There wasn't much discernable in what she managed to choke out, but by starting to relate the story, it had opened her mind. Usually when he read others' minds, it appeared in staggered flashes, jumping back and forth in time. But not this time. It was so traumatic that it unfolded just as she remembered it...

Coffee that afternoon with Laura was surprisingly pleasant. Laura needled her a bit about 'glowing' and 'who was the lucky guy?' ... but Charli wouldn't tell. Still, she had a good time. She was even looking forward to the party ... her first party among the 'beautiful people' ... and she was invited by their president!

With Heather's help, Charli went to the Gap and found some suitable party clothes. Nothing over-the-top, just something to help her fit in. Capris, a blouse, some sandals. It was the middle of September, but still warm enough for the light clothing.

Unfortunately Chad couldn't make it. He had practice that evening ... it sounded more like an excuse for not wanting to be there, but she was so excited she let it slide. Besides, one night without him wouldn't kill her. She hoped that one day he'd tell her what his beef was with the Omega Xis. Sure, everyone hated them to some degree, but Chad's animosity toward them seemed personal.

She arrived at the party and was greeted by Brittany and her retinue like an honored guest. A beer was immediately thrust into her hand and she and the girls drank and partied. Laura joined them for a little while, but seeing that Charli was having a good time, went to check on some of the other guests.

Charli didn't drink much, but swallowed more than a few jello-shots. That they didn't taste like liquor didn't help ... nor did Brittany and her friends' shouted encouragement. The fact is, the more shots she took, the easier the next ones became. Charli never had people cheer her on, and their adulations were addictive. In her mind, as the party progressed, her awkward dancing to the painfully mellow music was improving and she loosened up. Charli couldn't be happier. As the "gelatin-courage" worked its magic, she was prettier, funnier, and more popular than she'd ever been before ... and Brittany seemed all too eager to keep her well supplied.

Two hours or so after arriving, Charli staggered a bit toward toward corner of the yard. "Brittany, I think I'm going to be sick."

"Aww, looks like you had a too much to drink!" As if that were some spoken cue, a small crowd of people started gathering around them. Sure enough, a few moments later, a bright red stream of jell-o hued vomit spewed forth from Charli's mouth into a puddle on the lawn with the remnants of her cafeteria dinner. The cheer that went up around her was almost deafening.

Suddenly Charli felt a sharp kick behind her knees and she fell to the ground, nearly in her own puddle of puke. She held up one hand toward Brittany for a little help, but with a sneer Brittany kicked her other arm out to the side sending Charli's face directly into that disgusting puddle.

Laughter erupted all around her. Large hands gripped her arms and pulled her up to her knees, the smell of her vomit on her face threatening to call forth another load. All around her the crowd of people seemed to twist and turn and the ground beneath her knees felt like it was spinning. Dizzily she wondered what was happening and where Brittany was. When a hand painfully grabbed the top of her head and pulled it backward, she knew.

"So, you little puke-faced bitch. How empowered are you feeling now?! Just who the fuck do you think you are saying 'no' to me! I-"

There was a commotion from outside the circle. Charli recognized Brittany's friend Natalie whispering something into her ear. Brittany seemed to consider it for a moment before pointing to two burly guys toward her left. They seemed to understand her silent order and left. Whatever the commotion was, it died away to Brittany's satisfaction. Natalie wore a very smug expression.

"Now, where was I? Oh yeah ... the little fuck who thinks she's better than me."

"No ... I ... I-"

SLAP Charli saw stars after Brittany shut her up. She held out her hand and someone put a sealed jar in it. Grabbing Charli's hair again to tilt her gaze back up, "Do you know what this is? Something I've been saving for one of our pledges who got out of line. But you'll do. This is a jar of pickle relish ... that's been sitting open on our rooftop in the sun for the past two weeks." She let go of Charli's hair and opened the lid, holding it at arms length. The smell was almost overpowering. A repeated chant started to come from the crowd and with a cheer, the jar's contents were upended over Charli's head.

In Charli's foggy mind, the horror unfolding was like something out of Stephen King's "Carrie," except it wasn't pig's blood ... and she had no magical powers to save her. Initially she cried, but foul liquid would drip into her open mouth, so she wisely did her best to keep her lips tightly sealed. Unable to break free from whoever held her arms, she had no choice but to endure.

Jar after jar were similarly demonstrated and dumped — each another degree more disgusting than the last. The crowd never seemed to tire of the game, even as the putrid and rotting food piled up on her head, fell into her clothing, and stung her eyes. She gagged often on the smell, but somehow managed to keep the last remains of her dinner down. Charli went numb to what was happening to her. There was nothing she could do until the nightmare ended.

The final insult was a bucket of old fire-pit ash, making her look like a ghost. Brittany grabbed her whitened face roughly in her hand. "Look at you. Pathetic. Now, think about what you've done. It's a shame really. Because of your stupid pride, I'm going to have to ruin a promising young professor's career. If I were you, I'd stay away from that class. Stay away from me. In fact, why don't you just crawl back into the hole you came from and die!" With that final threat, Brittany spit in Charli's face and let her go. Charli fell to her side, her arm reaching out to catch her, to only then slip in the remains of her humiliation, sending her splashing again into the putrid mixture.

The crowd around her dispersed and slowly Charli got her balance and stood and walked away, Brittany's final "gift" slowly oozing down her face in mockery of the tears she couldn't call forth. There were no helping hands to speed her on her way. It was as if when Brittany left, the crowd's interest in her disappeared also. She was every bit the ghost she resembled.

The distance to her dorm never seemed so long. People passed her and stared, some pointing and laughing, some holding their noses, some shaking their heads sadly. Up the stairs she went and straight into the shower. For long minutes she simply stood under the water, letting the hot stream wash away the putrid remains of the night, the chunkier bits threatening to clog the drain. Numbly she shuffled back to her room, not even caring that she was dripping wet and naked ... there was no one to see anyway. Her clothes were tossed into the hallway garbage can and she crawled into what served as her PJs. Hours later, as the alcohol began to wear off, reality set in and the tears started coming...

A murderous rage grew inside Gregg like he'd never experience before in his life. He held Charli that much tighter, wishing he could take away the pain, but it was so stuck in her mind, so imbedded into her psyche, that any effort he tried to erase it resulted in a blinding pain behind his eyes.

Gregg stifled his wrath — balling his fist and striking the concrete wall beside Charli's bed. In his power-wrought anger, he felt no pain. Days later, Chen would casually look toward the wall and wonder how she'd never noticed it was cracked.

Worse than anything, Gregg felt that he had personally let Charli down. He had worn the mantle of 'hero' in her mind, but he failed to be there for her when she needed him the most. He had given her confidence and poise, and this is how she was rewarded ... just for trying to make new friends. He'd known cruelty, but not on this scale.

As he held the weeping girl in his arms, a plan began to form.

If Gregg felt like shit when he learned what happened to Charli, then the look of anger and betrayal on Chad's face as he explained events outside Charli's dorm cut that much deeper. Chad's friendship and loyalty were strong enough that he wouldn't come out and say "I told you so," but his dark look and silence were harsher than the deepest of wounds.

"She's finally asleep now ... but I'm sure she'd like it if you were there when she woke." Chad just nodded, and moved to enter her room, but Gregg stopped him, laying a hand on his shoulder. Chad looked at the hand as if he were debating ripping it off. "Don't worry about coming to class today. Just be there for her, okay?" Chad turned the knob, but Gregg tightened his grip on his shoulder. "Chad ... I'm sorry. I just never ... I ... sigh you were right ... about everything. I'm sorry."

Chad refused to meet his eyes, but simply nodded again, shrugging his shoulder free of Gregg's grasp, opening the door and slipping in before Gregg could stop him yet again. It was clear that if Charli weren't sleeping on the other side, the door would have been slammed in his face.

Gregg checked his watch and saw that he had just enough time to get to class. Luckily he had all his materials with him. He sighed again. 'This day just can't get any worse... '

An hour later, Gregg was walking across the quad back toward his office, marveling darkly at his ability to keep a straight face during class. It was easy for his students to accept his anger and frustration — they simply assumed it was because so many of them had bombed the quiz. On Brittany's exam, which she failed of course, he scrawled a note that said, "Come to my 1:00pm office hour to discuss this."

Obviously Charli and Chad were not there, but he was surprised that Laura didn't shown up either. 'When I get to my office I'll call her. My little slave will learn what REAL punishment is. I should have known better than to think that a few spankings would turn her into anything other than what she really was deep down: an Omega Xi.'

He wouldn't have to wait so long. Exiting the stairwell near his office, Gregg saw Laura sitting against his door. If it were ever possible to say an Omega Xi looked like shit, then Laura was the poster child. It looked like she was wearing whatever she slept in last night. She had no makeup on, her hair was disheveled, and she'd obviously been crying. 'No doubt feels guilty for upsetting her Master, ' Gregg thought grimly.

She stood as Gregg approached, looking more fearful than he'd ever seen her before. Gregg wordlessly opened his office door and ushered her in, following close behind.

When the door slammed shut, Laura gasped as Gregg's hand closed around her throat and slammed her bodily against the door. "WHERE WERE YOU? BUSY FUCKING ANOTHER CLIENT?!"

His grip tightened and he smashed her head a second time against the solid oak. Laura was seeing stars as she gasped for air. She could feel the blood in her neck try to force its way past Gregg's grip. Her mouth opened and closed silently as she tried to beg him to stop.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU WHORE! YOU BETRAYED ME! YOU BETRAYED HER! Do you have any idea what they did to her? WHERE WERE YOU!? HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?"

As if in answer to his shouted question, Gregg's consciousness bore into her mind. There was nothing gentle about his probe and her eyes rolled back into her skull. He wasn't prepared for what he saw...

Charli arrived at the party and met up with Brittany and the gang. Laura was amazed at what she saw. Honestly, with just a little bit of work, Charli could pass as one of them.

For the most part, everything seemed to be going well. Her new young friend seemed to be only taking sips of the drink in her hand, so there wasn't much concern about her getting drunk. Being that the party was outside and that there were plenty of people all around, Laura felt she had some time to make her rounds. As secretary for the chapter, a party was 'work' and she had people to meet and greet.

Walking toward the house, she said 'hello' to various important (and some not-so-important) people. Heading inside toward the private party, she checked to see how things were going. In the hallways, sisters were getting personal with various guys, some being quite brazen about what they were doing. Laura made a mental note of which sisters to talk to about maintaining decorum in public spaces. She approached the salon and the sister who was serving as guard for the night let her in. At least behind these doors, it was no longer "public."

Here's where the VERY important guests got really enjoy the company of the sisterhood. The party was still early, so there were only three girls working the room. Two were in either corner getting fucked and a third was kneeling in the middle of the room, alternately sucking the two men standing to either side of her. Laura looked closer and recognized them as the presidents of the local Sigma Chi and Delta chapters. It was a rare occurrence of inter-fraternity cooperation. Laura made sure to give special greetings to the men, all of them looking her over, hoping she'd grace them next with her charms. Laura's standing in the sorority meant she no longer had to work "the room" like the younger girls were now ... she had enough prestige that if there was a "client" worthy, she'd entertain him in her private suite.

A raucous shouting from outside caught her attention. She looked at her watch and noted that it was still too early for the band. Peeling back the curtain just enough to peek outside, what she saw caused her to bolt for the door.

There was a large crowd gathered in a circle on the front lawn. She tried desperately to fight her way through, shouting, "NO! Not her! Let me through! Brittany, let her go!" She could barely hear her own shouts over the roaring and laughing crowd. She saw Natalie whisper something in Brittany's ear and a moment later, two large guys grabbed her arms and practically carried her kicking and screaming back into the house.

"Where should we take her?"

"Don't know. STOP STRUGGLING BITCH! Was told just not the parlor ... How's about ... ow! ... the kitchen?"

They dragged Laura up the stairs. She was in good physical condition, but the two brutes carrying her were solid like tree trunks. They opened the kitchen door and threw her in, following closely behind, locking the door. Laura regained her balance and swung her arm in a desperate open-handed slap against one of their faces. Her fingernail hooked some skin and left a nice open cut across his cheek.

His return back-handed slap made her see stars and she careened into the cutting-board island in the center of the room. She held onto the table as the room spun around her, not realizing her short skirt had ridden up exposing her naked asscheek.

"Well, she did say to keep her out of trouble, didn't she?"

The two guys looking knowingly at each other. "You hold her arms, I got her first." The guy with the scar walked around the table and held her arms so she was stretched across the table, her feet barely touching the floor. Behind her, she felt her skirt pulled the rest of the way up. Her cell phone was ripped out of her garter and smashed against the wall. "Ha! No underwear! You were probably just waiting for some guys like us, huh slut?" She heard a zipping sound and felt his hands press her tightly against the table.