Penance University

"Oh fuck!" Cum flew out of my dick onto the face of a little blonde girl kneeling beneath me.

I panted. She giggled while I caught my breath and scooped my cum off her face. She licked it off her fingers. I handed her a tissue.

"Jesus, you're so good," I said. She was about the same as every other girl. She was 19 and I was 53, that's what mattered. The sex got hotter with every year I got older.

"Thank you," she cooed. She gathered herself. Something with a T. She slid her panties up her lithe legs and scooped herself back into her bra.

I sat down at my desk. "I've had some new thoughts on your essay. I didn't fully appreciate it the first time through."

She beamed, "Really? Thank you Mr. Schneller!" She leaned across the desk and kissed me on the cheek. "I really think I gave the Iroquois people a great analysis on, you know, uh... their millenial society or whatever."

"Uh, matrilineal, but right, yes, wonderful, goodbye then uh..."

"Tessa"

"Right." I smiled and watched her tight butt while she swayed towards the door. She turned back as she opened it.

"Oh, um, I have a friend in your Tuesday and Thursday class that could use your help, her name's Kiera," she lowered her voice, "she's a brunette with blue eyes," she made a gesture around her chest, "she's got big... you know?"

"Kiera... Yes, I'll pencil her in."

The door shut and I spun my chair around in celebration. God I love it when the ladies start talking to each other. It's an easy pass, you know. You just gotta work out a deal with the professor.

I got up from my chair and looked at my reflection in the glass of my display case. My looks depressed me. I wasn't that handsome in the first place and time had only made things worse. My clothes were rumpled. I looked past my reflection and took in the knick knacks and accolades on the shelf. In particular I looked at a little framed picture with two men standing side by side on a boat, one holding a largemouth bass.

One of the men was me, the other was my best friend, Mark Collins. He died of liver cancer a few years ago. We became very close over the course of his illness. I had heart problems, he had cancer. Just two old bastards.

Angling on hot 20-somethings was something we both did before he got sick. "I'm not going to cheat on my wife and take advantage of my position as an educator and blah blah blah..."

I didn't understand at the time but I've learned that dying makes people reconsider themselves. Of course, near the end it didn't matter whether he wanted to or not. The excitement probably would have killed him. I smiled thinking about that.

Over the past few weeks my friend's scowl seemed to grow deeper everytime I looked at him holding that largemouth. I feel like I'm the largemouth sometimes, like I'll suddenly be plucked up from the water one day.

"Mark that girl's body was crazy, can you really blame me?" I said to the silent picture. I waited for Mark to rise in ethereal form from the frame to condemn me, to warn me of the coming wrath, like some kind of khaki-wearing Marley. The only noise was my wall clock ticking. Mark's frozen glare beared down on me. I dropped my head.

The students in my eleven o'clock Thursday class fought to stay awake. I watched their heads droop and then jerk back up only to begin to fall again. I couldn't help but notice Kiera. She was front and center today, wearing something low-cut. Wherever I looked her spilling breasts grabbed at me from the edges of my vision.

I thought of Mark. I need to be strong, but it's pretty difficult to lecture with big tits anywhere in your sight. They pull your eyes in like gravity. Kiera's tits interfered with spacetime. They interrupted the cosmos. Pale, white, and creamy, like starlight. All lecture long I stole looks. Mark can go fuck himself.

"Women held incredible formal and political power in Native American society..." I said, lecturing dryly.

My eyes dragged over Kiera's sexy body once again but something caught my eye. My stomach dropped. Mark was standing at the back of the auditorium in his fishing gear, bobbers, pole and all, holding a largemouth bass in his hand.

His face was gaunt and pale. There was a chunk of his body missing from his side where his liver should be. He presented the fish, holding it out towards me, then dropped it down the steps. It flopped and writhed. An unearthly noise came from it, like a million squealing hogs. I could feel the blood leave my face. My voice choked out.

"Uh, Mr. Schneller," said a student in the front row, "Are you ok?"

"Um-- uh.." I stuttered. I looked back towards Mark. In his place was the department head, Miss Cronenberg, observing. I looked for the flopping fish. Nothing, no evidence Mark had ever been here.

I powered through the lecture and the period elapsed. Students began gathering their things and filing out of their seats.

"Ok guys, have a nice day, please read chapters 8 and 9 before next week," I yelled.

I chatted with a few students and began to get my own things together. The auditorium had mostly emptied out.

"Mr. Schneller!"

I looked up nervously to see Kiera, bouncing in front of me.

"I wanted to ask," she said, "Do you have time to go over my essay with me?"

I looked up towards the ceiling, thinking it over, resisting. I can't look at her tits, don't look at her tits. I brought my eyes down but sort of looked past her, keeping her breasts out of my vision.

"I'd like to but I don't have have time right now," I said, but not very strongly.

"Pleeeease..." she whined. She moved closer and looked up at me. Her blue eyes looked through her black framed glasses. I looked at her tits. They were rolling hills colored milk white. I could see them rise and fall with her breath.

The auditorium was empty now. A veil of silence was draped over the large room. I looked right into her eyes.

"No, I'm sorry I just can't do it today."

Her eyes cast down in disappointment, "Oh, ok..." she said, turning to leave. Mark must be proud.

As Kiera walked away a pen dropped from the binder she was carrying. I watched it hit the floor. With her back to me Kiera slowly bent over to pick it up. Her little skirt creeped up her smooth legs. She bent all the way over, and stopped for a beat. I was transfixed. Pretty pale legs led up to her big round ass. I can almost see... just slide up a little more... She grabbed the pen and stood back up, continuing to walk away. I sighed and shivered.

"You know what Kiera," I called to her, "I think I can squeeze you in."

With her top still on I ran my hands over her titties. I kissed and sucked on her neck. She smelled good. Supply closets aren't comfortable but they're pretty sexy. Public and cramped, you know, sweaty. Kiera groped on my hard dick. One of my hands traced down between her legs. I knocked over a broom. I pushed her head down until she got on her knees. She pulled out my cock.

"How bad do you want that A, huh?" I jeered.

She looked up at me.

"This bad," she said. Kiera lubed up my dick with her spit and throated me as far as she could.

"Oh fuck!" I grabbed her head. Kiera's arms dropped limp to her sides. She looked up at me, signaling. Do whatever you want. I started face fucking her, filling her throat with my dick, vacating it, then filling it again. It felt so good having a teenage throat massaging me. For a while all you could hear were the erotic noises of my cock fucking her mouth.

It sounded just like the flopping fish. I couldn't get Mark out of my head, and the squealing pigs, I could still hear them. I slowed down and hesitated for a second. My heart was pounding. The lights flickered.

I looked down at Kiera. She pulled my dick out with a little pop. She was looking up at me so submissively, drool and spit dripping down her chin to her tits.

"Are you ok?" she said. I just nodded. She smiled and stood up.

"I'm your little fucktoy," she said, turning around and putting her hands on the wall. She flipped up her little skirt and pulled her panties to the side. Her pussy looked so wet and juicy. She looked at me over her shoulder.

"Come on Curtis, don't you want to fuck this 19 year old pussy?" She wagged her ass at me. Hearing my first name melted me.

All uncertainty left my body and I bucked into her pussy. It was tight, wet, and warm. I felt like a god thrusting in and out of her.

She started to get loud so I put my hand over her mouth. Her big tits jostled around. My free hand started groping them. She ripped my hand off her face.

"Oh yeah that's so good," she squealed, "Fuck that teenage pussy daddy!"

I started fucking her harder.

"Oh fuck you're so good," I moaned. I meant it this time. This was the best pussy I'd ever had. I ran my hands over her ass cheeks and gave them a slap. She yelped in surprise.

"I'm such a bad girl aren't I daddy?" she yelled. Anybody could have heard us. Cream started to froth where her pussy was sealed onto my dick. I watched it drip onto the floor. The climax built and then ran over. I thrust all the way inside her and flooded her pussy.

"Oh thank you daddy," she said, grinding her hips into me, "Fill up this pussy."

I put my chin on her shoulder, panting while my hips spasmed and bucked inside her while I finished.

"You're welcome," I gasped.

A sudden and sharp burst of pain ran down my left arm. I grabbed at my chest.

"Are you ok? What's wrong?" Her voice was worried and far away. It sounded like a train was running through the building. There was a low rumble and the lights flickered rapidly. I pulled out of Kiera and put my dick in my pants. I tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. I was panicking.

"The door's locked or something, did you lock it or...?" I asked. Kiera didn't answer. I looked back. She was gone. Stunned, I leaned back against the wall and slid down onto the floor. It felt like a car was sitting on my chest. A gust of wind tore through the closet. It smelled like the pond near my childhood home, like I was stooped on the bank looking at minnows. My mother was right behind me, telling me to come inside. The rumbling quit. The lights blinked out completely and everything turned black.

I woke up on the closet floor with drool leaking out of my mouth. The pain was gone. It was dark except for the light sneaking under the door, and I could hear a cacophony of conversation outside. I gathered myself and walked out and found myself standing in the university dining hall. Three girls sat at a table near me. One of them was crying while the others consoled her.

One girl rubbed her shoulder. "I mean you were failing what else could you do?"

"Yeah and you're not the only one that's done something like that," the other girl reasoned, "it's the shitty administration that's the problem. They protect all these gross professors."

The crying girl blubbered, "I know, I know it's just so humiliating, I had to pretend to be attracted to this gross asshole and get fucked just to pass a 200 level class." Her face was red and puffy.

I knew she was talking about me because I recognized her and I remembered fucking her just a couple of weeks ago, but I didn't remember it being so bad. I thought all in all she had a pretty good time. She got her pass and I got a little pussy. A win all around.

A loud ding echoed through the dining hall. I looked back towards the closet door to see a light buzz on. The scene around me disappeared into smoke, leaving only the door. With no other choice, I stepped inside. The janitorial supply closet was now a completely spotless steel box with a light overhead that made my head throb. The door closed behind me and the box began to move in an indiscernible direction.

The box stopped and this time through the door I could only hear the muffled sounds of crying. I opened it and stepped into a cluttered dorm room. The door shut behind me. Gray light from an overcast day washed the room in a ghostly light. To my right there was a bed. A girl on the other side sat with her back against it. She was crying but also seemed to be looking at something in her lap.

I came around the side and saw her face and more alarmingly her wrists and arms, red all over, like they were wrapped in red dripping ribbons. The girl held a razor blade and made a fresh cut. My body went slack and weak at the sight of blood and my stomach turned as I slowly recognized the girl. A scream rang out and startled me. A person moved through me.

"Clara what the fuck are you doing?" her roommate screamed, "Oh my God!" She ran into the bathroom and brought a wet towel while Clara continued to cry. I watched from the corner of the room, just a ghost. After a while, Clara calmed down enough to speak while her roommate consoled her.

"Is this still about that--,"

"I never had sex before!" Clara wailed. Her face was screwed into a knot of anguish. Tears flowed from her squeezed shut eyes.

I didn't remember anything about Clara being a virgin. I wasn't sure which one Clara was actually, whether it was this year or last year, or maybe many years ago. Clara, Cassidy, Tessa, Laney, Taylor, Alex... My head spun around and around, everything was running together. I ran to the door and banged on it, desperate to leave. It remained closed.

While I struggled with the door, the crying and the conversation stopped all at once. I turned around. Twenty, maybe thirty naked girls now filled the dorm room shoulder to shoulder. They stared at me with no expression. I pressed my body flat against the door. A two foot space seperated me from the nearest girl. Slowly, collectively, they creeped closer.

A quiet murmur began to come from the multitude. I was breathing hard now and sweat soaked through my clothes. The murmur grew into a chatter, then a roar. They got closer. The deafening roar transformed into a grinding whine. It sounded like a million squealing hogs. A warmth touched my leg and I looked down to see a dark spot growing on my pants. Piss ran down my leg onto the floor.

Ding. The light went on, and I opened the door. Whoosh! The room became a pool of bedlam as water rushed in with angry force. I was tossed in a swirling mix of bedding, pillows, chairs, and girls. The hogs never stopped squealing. I kept my head above water for as long as I could until I was submerged. My eyes were shut tight.

What must have been a large piece of furniture hit me and sent me twirling through the water. I held my breath. Water wormed its way inside my mouth, pressing past my lips.

It broke through and poured into my body. The bill had come due. Throughout my life, I had some sense of it, the running tab. My anxious temperament, I had thought, just plain guilt. No one was actually keeping track. In truth, the wrongdoings had all been carefully accounted for, one side of the balance sheet growing heavier and heavier. All the while the universe, God, or the Mystical Accountant sat back, relaxed, knowing the balance would be reconciled no matter what. I waited for death.

A few minutes passed and nothing happened. I was still alive, breathing just fine. It was like I had grown gills. I opened my eyes and saw that the dorm was gone. An endless expanse of water surrounded me. Through my blurred vision I saw the vague figure of one of the girls, still naked. A glow emanated from her.

I swam close, almost touching. She was intoxicating. I felt like a moth to a flame as I leaned in until her lips touched mine. She pressed back into me, our bodies now tangled together. We must have appeared like a wriggling bacterium in the enormous body of water.

She pulled away from me and slipped her finger into my mouth. My tongue flicked around it and I felt something metallic and pointy. It pricked my cheek. I opened my eyes. The mysterious girl's face was

lifeless. Her glazed eyes bored into mine. Like golden tendrils from some beautiful, otherworldly jellyfish her hair splayed out into the water. It tickled me as she drifted downwards, stiff and pale, disappearing into the depths below.

I jolted as I felt something jab into my cheek. Thin, translucent line stretched outwards from my mouth. I felt myself being pulled rapidly upwards. The void of water whisked by me, more and more light filtering in as I got closer to the surface. The sunlight hurt my eyes. I broke through... Splash. Boat. Pole. Rod. Man. Can. Land. Motor. Oil. Soil. Bland. Knife. Seaman. Semen. Salute. Salutations. Matrilineal. Statutory. Apemanplanetcreasedemonsleepteamcrossingboundarieshithertounknown... nabslabjrhbsnm..

"And Hardin looks pretty happy about that catch, wouldn't you say Earl?"

"Hey, I would be too, it's exactly what he needs at this point in the day, but he's still got a ways to go to catch Davis..."

A TV sitting on a folding table quietly mumbles a rerun of the 1995 Bassmaster Classic from the corner of a nearly empty waiting room.

Fluorescent lights flicker and glare from the ceiling, illuminating a stained and ugly carpet. The room's air is pungent with

frustration, as if every person who had ever been in it had left jots of irritation pooling together, creating a space redolent with anger.

Sleeping in a chair sits the lone occupant of the room. He is an overweight, poorly dressed, bookish-looking man of about 55 years of age. Behind the glass in the front of the room sits a young receptionist. She traces down a list with her pen.

"Schneller!" she calls tightly, like she is annoyed that this man exists. The man starts awake.

"Schneller!" the receptionist calls again, even more annoyed. Schneller, half-asleep, gathers himself, pats his hair, and stumbles over to the window.

"He's ready to see you just head inside," she says, gesturing to a door next to her glass window.

Schneller massages his cheek. "Um.. uh wha- what am I doing here? where am I?" he says.

The receptionist replies boredly, "Just head inside it'll all be explained."

Schneller opens the door and nervously steps inside a small, windowless office decorated with sports memorabilia and a Canadian flag.

A pudgy, mustached man wearing khakis and a sweater vest stands up from his desk and greets him brightly, "Hey bud! You must be Schneller, eh?"

"I think you're the last of the day, I'm Shane. Have a seat right there," he says. He sits back down in his chair and starts clacking on his computer. Schneller sits across from him.

"Now help me out here," Shane says, looking over his glasses, "Are you the serial killer or the professor?"

Schneller protests, "What? I--."

"Wait, the serial killer is tomorrow, I'm sorry you're the professor, it all runs together after a while," Shane says, laughing, "Here's the deal, you're dead, you did some stuff you shouldn't have, now we gotta settle up. Understand?"

Schneller nods, color is leaving his face and his eyes are fixed to the floor. He fidgets and squirms in his chair. Shane hums a carefree tune while he clacks through his computer.

"Alright fella, if what I'm looking at here is right, it's not too bad," Shane says. Schneller perks up. "On the high end you're only looking at two, maybe three hundred years."

"You said tw- two hundred?" Schneller says, his eyes growing wide, his face becoming even paler. "Two hundred of what?"

A few moments pass while Shane strokes his mustache and stares into space.

"Hm? Whadya say? Oh, two hundred years of waiting. Once that's over you can move on," Shane says, still distracted, thinking about dinner or maybe the game tonight. He takes a sip from a mug lettered, "World's Best Accountant."

"Move on to where?" says Schneller, positively quaking.

"Oh I don't know pal, they don't tell me that kinda stuff," Shane reaches back to a whirring printer, grabs a warm sheet, and places it in front of Schneller. "Just sign this little contract here and you can get started."

"Are there any other options?" Tears are forming in Schneller's eyes.

"Well... there's one other thing you could do, but you don't wanna do that," Shane places a pen next to the sheet, "Go

ahead there."

"Uh, Shane right? Just to humor me, could you explain the other option?"

Shane leans back in his chair and groans. "I suppose but I really gotta go soon buddy." He pauses. "Look, the gist is that anyone has the option to opt out of their payment plan and take the test instead."

"The test?" Hope returns to Schneller's eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, the test, I don't know what it is, but if you pass you'll be home free." Shane bristles in his chair and rubs his eyes, continuing, "Schneller, uh," he looks back at his computer, "Curtis, I'm telling you it's a bad idea because if you fail, you are done for, I still couldn't tell you what exactly that means, but I know it's by far the worst outcome out of, I guess the three possible here."

Shane pushes the contract and the pen towards him. "Just sign buddy, and wait. I can assure you that will be painless, awfully boring, but painless."

Curtis Schneller sits in his chair, rubbing his fleshy chin, considering. Perhaps,

within Curtis, a gambler is making himself heard. A truer nature deep down inside advising him to take his chances. To Curtis that might be preferred to hundreds of years of monotony. He might be thinking, "How bad could the worst outcome be, next to infinite boredom?"

Whatever his thoughts, the blood was returning to his face, as if just having an option eased his nerves. The gambler

must be whispering to him, giving him the feeling that the positive outcome is most likely, that it's sure to pass.

Shane looks at his watch and says, "Ok, how about this? I'm gonna leave. You can stay here as long as you want and decide. If you want to take the test just go through the red door across the waiting room. If you want to do the time, sign that sheet and give it to Linda up front, she'll tell you the rest."

Shane hums out of his office, leaving the door open, leaving Curtis alone and staring at a faded red door across the room.

The TV drones quietly while Curtis paces around. The receptionist glares at him. He doesn't notice. The red door burns with a strange light. Curtis stares at the door for a minute then places his hand on the

knob. Slowly, he opens it and goes inside.

Curtis enters something like a viewing room, like at a police station. A large rectangle of blacked out glass takes up most of the wall in front of him. A placard under the glass reads, "Testing: Curtis Schneller."

Sweat rolls down his forehead as Curtis waits. And waits. Around 15 minutes passes and the glass turns clear. Through it, Curtis sees an extremely attractive young woman, no older than 20, in a tight red dress sitting on a bed. There's a nightstand, some chairs, and a couch. It's a motel room. Nothing happens for a while, just stillness. And sweat. Then, the sound of a door opening and closing just outside the view of the glass, then footsteps, then a man enters the frame.

The man is middle-aged, bookish. He says to the girl, "Hi there." He's smiling like a dope.

The girl replies, "Hi Mr. Schneller, I've been waiting a while."

Curtis's mouth hangs open, that is, the Curtis in the viewing room. His face is the color of week old milk. He wrings his wrists, becoming agitated as he realizes the nature of the test. The air inside the room gets warmer, more suffocating. Curtis paces around the room, running his hands over his face and hair, muttering to himself, having a conniption.

Curtis in the motel room walks over to the girl and sits next to her on the bed. The Curtis looking in flings himself on the glass, starting to yell, "No! God, don't please!"

Curtis inside puts his hand on her leg and starts caressing. He's pounding on the glass now, screaming, "Stop it! Stop it! You fucking idiot, control yourself!"

Inside, Curtis and the girl look over at the glass, then look back at each other and giggle.

I met up with her at a motel. Not the first time it's happened. Some girls like to play things real safe. If she wanted I'd take her on a trip far, far away. I fit my key in the lock and walked in. Hot and red she sat on that motel bed. I could barely contain myself. She was warm and brown, long dark hair falling glossy to her shoulders. So pretty, so terrible at anthropology.

"Hi there."

"Hi Mr. Schneller, I've been waiting awhile."

I sat next to her, stroked her leg. We started kissing and then heard a faint pounding on the wall from the room next door, then some screaming and moaning too. We looked over and then back at each other, laughing. Our faces were so close to each other. I said to her, still laughing, "We'll let them hear us too."