Wulf College, nestled in the heart of the Midwest, was like many other private liberal arts colleges. It had great programs, lots of prestigious graduates, and opportunities galore upon graduation for its top students. It also was located in the middle of nowhere, miles from any major city, and infinitely quiet. Very little of import or excitement happened in the area except for the occasional run at the state title for the local high school sports teams. Patrice Shepherd was out to change all of that.
Journalism major, writer, and editor for the College newspaper, Patrice was tired of running the same old opinion pieces and the local community highlights. College was supposed to be exciting, with lots going on. Besides, how was she going to get noticed at Northwestern or Columbia if she didn't have any breakout stories? The plan started simply and grew, as these things will, faster than she thought and soon took on a life of its own.
The first article was rather simple and mostly harmless. A little write up about the rise in popularity of slash fiction and its prevalence in the histories of the browsers on the library computers and references to what may or may not be going on in the "quiet" study rooms. A few surreptitious visits to the lab before the article went to print and some older panties "hidden" in the folds of the upholstery ensured there was plenty of evidence to support her story. Of course, as editor, she had to protect the identity of her new investigative reporter so it was published under the nom de plume, Prudence Goodhope.
The response was immediate and better than she hoped. Letters to the paper actually started coming in and space was given over in the editorial for a special run of them. The missives, of course, ran the gamut from those supporting the right of people to read what they wanted, mild confessions of acts done in the library, and the predictable outcry from the conservatives about needing blocks on the library computers and full-time security patrols to prevent this outrageous desecration of a place of quiet contemplation and study. Patrice was almost beside herself with glee.
Prudence became a featured piece in each weekly edition, with either an opinion column or an investigative article. Sometimes they were actually real and mostly true, like the use of "pink slime" in the meatloaf served by the school dining hall. As Prudence's reputation grew and the response to her articles and presence on the newspaper's website increased as well, Patrice realized she had a campus celebrity as her alter ego with some growing influence and clout. People actually looked forward to the articles and followed through on some of the suggestions made. After writing an editorial about civic responsibility and helping care for the world around them, she actually saw people going out of their way to grab trash on the campus green to put it in the recycling bins, and realized it had been days since she had seen anyone just casually littering.
Of course, realizing this newfound power gave Patrice a new idea and aspect to her plan. Why stop at just helping open people's eyes to what was going on around them? Her original intent was to follow in the steps of William Randolph Hearst and not just report the news, but make the news. To add a little bit of excitement to campus and stir things up a bit. It was time to really start to stir things up, and right some wrongs along the way.
Her first target was Dr. Fullman, the English professor. She had disliked him from the first day of British Lit and just knew he had been constantly ogling her and the other female students during every class. He was blunt, old, opinionated, and worst of all, had the audacity to actually give her a B. The story would be Prudence's finest to date, but required some careful planning and stealthy "investigations". Some late night visits to the English department after hours, a few carefully named computer folders, and a protected internet browser history were all she needed.
"Child Pornography in the English Wing", the headline read. When the article went live the response was impressive. The article never named Dr. Fullman directly, but there were enough inferences that people who knew him could figure out the identity. The school administrators acted swiftly, as she knew they would. She was there with her trusty camera to snap pictures as campus security went to his office, grabbed his computer and a box of stuff from his desk, and escorted him off campus to be placed on Administrative Leave pending a full investigation. She gleefully read the reports as they found several files of pictures and videos of children, an active browser history to sites like NAMBLA.org, a travel brochure to Bangkok and, the coup de grâce, several pictures of a little girl in various states of undress. No one even noticed how the eyes were the same shade and shape as those of the campus newspaper editor.
Emboldened by the success of her attack on Dr. Fullman, she began to turn her plan towards not just her personal enemies, but the enemies of higher education everywhere. Eta Omicron Epsilon sorority was first. It didn't matter they had rejected her as a pledge when she was a freshman. She was glad they had now after seeing how they promoted the party lifestyle and practically threw themselves into the arms of any halfway attractive male on campus and being the sorority of choice for most of the female athletes and cheerleaders. All it took was some reporting of hazing rituals, a few spiked drinks causing trips to the hospital for a stomach pump, and some cellphone pics of the sorority president making out with a freshman pledge and Prudence's story was enough to get them put on probation with a complete ban on alcohol and parties. Patrice was especially glad she had gone blonde for a semester that first year and had been a bit of a shutterbug even then.
College athletics was next in her sights. They kept getting money that could go to academic programs; overpaid coaches, expensive workout facilities, lavish travel and food expenses for the athletes. Her target of choice was the Men's Swimming and Diving team in the persona of their junior Captain, Siegfried Thorson. Sig was the epitome of the college athlete: bright, great GPA, ambitious, determined, and the body of the God his surname and heritage came with. He was lean, muscular, blonde-haired, blue-eyed and quick with a joke and a smile. He also had a dark side he kept from all but the closest friends. A dark side she knew all too well because she had introduced him to it and explored it with him while they dated last year.
You wouldn't know it to look at her, with her Midwestern looks and demure sense of style, but Patrice was a kinkster. More than that, she was very familiar with many aspects of BDSM and enjoyed most of them. She had experimented before Sig and when their relationship started getting serious, she introduced him to some of the things she enjoyed. From there, they began exploring together and trying out new and more things. He fell into a dom role easily and was a passable sadist, if a little too cautious sometimes. She had been tied, wrapped, spanked, flogged, caned and many other delicious things. There were days after a weekend with Sig she had been unable to sit (except as a reminder of the sting of the implements) and had to wear long shorts and skirts to hide the bruises that served as her marks of honor.
She especially remembered one glorious night where he had shackled her to the wall and worked her over. He used chains to attach her ankles to a spreader bar and her hands were pulled above her until she was nearly suspended. As he blindfolded her he teased with a harsh whisper, slowly telling her all the things he was could do to her until her panties were soaked with her juices.
He left her in silence, her mind rushing with thoughts of what was coming. Then she felt the bite of a cold metal edge as he slowly slid it along her shoulders, felt the quick snap and release of pressure as he sliced through first one and then the other bra strap with what had to be a knife. He moveed it gently back and forth letting her feel the flat, the point and the edge for what seemed like an eternity until with a gentle sawing motion she felt her breasts spill free as he severed the strap across her back.
