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Part Six
The Dorm
The next weekend my mother drove up from the big city. I really didn't expect to see her, late that Saturday morning. She took me out to lunch at the nicest restaurant in this crummy little college town. I really appreciated seeing her. One part of me wanted to tell mom about what happened to me the preceding weekend. One part of me was still in shock. I had not gone to the Dean of Women immediately after he had dropped me off at my dorm in the wee hours of the morning. I hadn't even gone to the Health Service on Monday morning for care of my broken and battered ass. I just put on the cream that he gave me and lay naked in bed on my belly Saturday and Sunday until my roommate came back. Yah, that week I spent a lot of time in bed on my belly and as little time sitting as I could. I did manage a couple of quick exchanges on Monday with the other Oriental girl in my Calculus class. Yah, things went about the same way with her on Saturday morning. I noticed that the two round-eyed blonds weren't sitting too comfortably but I didn't feel like sharing anything with them right now. By Saturday morning I could sit. Not comfortably, but I could sit and not be in too much pain. And after a week I could walk without any pain at all. It will probably be another week before all the pain is gone and I'll bet that the bruises take at least a month to completely go away. After a week they were still black and blue in the center and mottled yellow around the edges. I really wanted to share my experience with my mom, to see what she thought, to get her advice, to ask what she would do in my place. But I couldn't bring my self to do it. Because, you see, it isn't just the blackmail that keeps me silent and compliant. Something changed in me that Friday night. Something was uncovered that was deeply disturbing. Way beyond fear of flunking Calculus, losing my scholarship and getting kicked out of school. Something visceral emerged in that room, bound to that desk, under the switch. More than a butt beaten until it was just beginning to bleed. Beyond sodomy.
At lunch I gazed into my mother's eyes looking for answers. She was strange that day. Not reserved at all. Chatty, almost giddy like a girl. I assumed that it was due to being back at her old Alma Mater and being with the daughter that she hadn't seen in six weeks. Of course she asked how I was doing. I said I was getting A's in everything except Calculus. I really didn't know why they made students with my major take Calculus since it really didn't contribute a thing to a Liberal Arts degree. Besides, I just don't seem to have a head for math and the instructor was a true ogre. Mom looked me in the eye and said that you could learn a lot about life from Calculus. She got real serious. She said that she was on the Board of Reagents of the University and that she was one of those who were most adamant that girls with my major be exposed to higher mathematics. The waiter brought our fish and refreshed our wine glasses with that superb primier cru Chablis. Then mom started to babble and chatter again and I'm not sure that she heard another word I said. My roommate was down in the big city again this weekend. After lunch mom and I walked around campus for at least an hour and a half enjoying the fall sunshine and shadows. Then we went to my room in the dorm and each of us laid on one of the beds on our bellies and just chatted very quietly for an hour before we fell asleep for a deep, drooling nap. It was five o'clock before we got up, my mom a bit startled and disoriented. Then I asked her what was up for this evening. She said that she had plans to meet some old friends that evening, chums from her undergraduate days. She hoped that I wouldn't mind making my own plans for after an early supper. And, oh, could she crash here in my room since my roommate would not be here tonight. Without thinking, I gladly assented.
After a light supper, mom went into the bathroom to prepare herself for what I was now coming to regard as a somewhat mysterious assignation. After she had drawn the water for her bath, mom came out clad only in her bathrobe and seemed upset. She explained that she was meeting with some old friends that night, some of her college classmate and her former math instructor. She met with them about once a year to revisit the old times when she was a nineteen college girl rather than a thirty-nine year old matron. Well, she said blushing beet red, she had a condition that she had never told me about that required her to take enemas at certain rigidly specified intervals and tonight was one of those times. The problem was that she was so excited and nervous about seeing me, and seeing her old girl friends that her hand was shaking too badly to insert the nozzle of the enema. She was obviously embarrassed to death, flushed and shaking. Could I give her a hand? Oh, mom, I said, giving her a big hug, I will be glad to help. After all, you wiped my poopy bottom for almost two years. What have two grown women to be ashamed about.
We went into the bathroom, the two of us. Mom said that dorm bathrooms are so much nicer now. In her time, in this very dorm, it was four girls in two bunk beds to a room which only had a crummy sink with a crummy mirror and a commode and a dinky shower. Now it is two girls to a room with a nicer bathroom than at home and a real bathtub. A big four quart enema bag hung was already hung from the shower rod when we entered the room. Mom tried hiking up her robe and bending over the tub. Unfortunately, she was stiff and shaking and trying to keep the robe out of the bathwater. I told her, mom, just take the robe off and bend over the tub. Even so, I was a bit shocked, never having seen my mother naked before. But she knelt on the rug in front of the tub, bent over to lean on the tub's edge and spread her knees to about two feet apart. Like me, mom has what I would call a sturdy ass. Not fat but enough there for most purposes. I spread her quaking ass cheeks with one hand and slowly and carefully inserted the unusually large, well lubricated, black plastic enema nozzle into her anus. It was while spreading her cheeks that I noticed that the surface of her buttocks was covered with innumerable fine linear scars. Many of them looked like they were from decades ago but there were some that might have been no more than a year or so old. And the scars went from side to side just like the strokes of a switch. Once the enema tube was inserted and I released the stopcock, I left her to her purging.
About an hour later she came bouncing out of the bathroom, stark bonkers naked but in unaccustomed high spirits. The bowel evacuation and bath, shampoo and blow dry seem to have worked a miracle on her for the shakiness has disappeared. She stood in front of the mirror, hands underneath her sagless breasts admiring how well preserved her charms were. She said it was an advantage that we small-breasted Oriental women had. We age well. She said that her old roommate, now the Dean of Women would be there tonight and perhaps the President of the University would drop by. All the old girls and their favorite math professor. Mom babbled on commenting on how the Dean of Women had massive breasts that sagged down to her navel when unsupported. Then, in the reflection in the mirror, I noticed that mom had shaved the hair from her pubic delta. And there was a faded but still prominent scar - an upside down triangle branded into her mons veneris. As she stepped into her red panties and pulled them up, mom admired how slim her waist still was. She commented that she wasn't even going to need a bra tonight as she slipped on a beautiful red silk dress that I had never seen before. The long sleeved bodice was closely fitted but the skirt was full. She put on black, self supporting hose and red shoes with higher heels than I could ever imagine my mom wearing. Then she pulled up a full crinoline petticoat and twirled until the dress and petticoat swirled up and outward. She looked at least ten years younger. As mom put on a medium length string of pearls I was frankly jealous of her. I gave her the spare key to the dorm room and told her that I was going to retire early tonight. Just let herself in quietly and go to sleep. I would probably already be deep in the arms of Morpheus by the time she returned. Mom skipped out the door saying that she felt like a college girl all over again and whistling a snippet of Mozart. As she walked out, I asked her what the tune was and she said it was the first act trio for soprano, mezzo-soprano and alto from 'Cosi Fan Tutti'. Or in English, 'All Women Are Alike' or 'They All Do It' or 'So Do They All'.
I decided that I already had all the answers to any questions that I going to ask my mother. I turned on my computer and checked my e-mail, replying affirmatively to the one critical memo I had gotten that afternoon. Then I showered, brushed my teeth and I changed into the tee shirt that served me for a nightgown. Turning out the light I crawled into my bed. I could finally lie on my back without too much discomfort. I wiggled my ass and spread my thighs flexing and stretching. Then I ran my hands over the surface of those buttocks that were now no longer smooth and I thought about the e-mail from HIM. I was scheduled for another Calculus tutorial next Friday night. This time it would be a joint tutorial session with another student who also had unacceptably low grades. I made a bet with myself that it would be the other Oriental co-ed rather than one of the busty blonde bimbo's. It took me over two hours before I fell asleep. Images of the Dean of Women's tits kept running through my mind alternating with fantasies of the blond busty bimbo's being beaten. "So do we all".
FINIS
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