Pearl Girls Chapter 16: Trustee’s Balls to the Wall

( c ) 2023 by Skarlette One

Finally, the night of the Trustee’s Ball had arrived! The anticipation was driving me mad, it felt like I’d been preparing for this night for years!

I’d barely slept in days, digging into my reserves of stamina I’d gained as the superheroine Argent in order to finish grading the finals for all the classes I taught as Alexis Ames, PhD. The last twenty-four hours were a marathon of preparation and primping with my personal shopper, Crystal Creese, punctuated by furtive bouts of passionate sex and refreshing cat naps in the afterglow. Crystal had made me into a version of myself more beautiful and alluring than I thought possible. Every element of my ensemble orbited my single-strand pearl necklace and served to accentuate my sexuality—from my platinum-blond French twist, to my shimmering, crystal-encrusted evening gown, to my flawless makeup (waterproof to resist spills of any kind of fluid).

After so much buildup, it was little surprise that I made my entrance to the ball much too early. Neither the trustees nor Dean Dickinson had arrived yet, but I did see one familiar face. Ordering a drink at the bar was Hipolyta Leasch, clad in a red silk gown. She was a professor of archaeology, a well-respected scholar, and, most importantly, the wife of my colleague Dr. Grant Kerry. Their marriage had been in shambles since I seduced Grant in order to protect my secret life as a Pearl Girl. Although Grant had sworen to me that he hadn’t told his wife just what had occurred between him and I, the wisest course of action would be to avoid the woman entirely.

Of course, the buzz of my pearls led me directly to her. I’d failed to resist their direction for so long that even the prospect of speaking with the woman whose life I’d ruined couldn’t keep me from obedience.

Hipolyta was tall and curvy with waves of dark hair in gorgeous contrast to her bright red gown. Before becoming a Pearl Girl, I had even felt overshadowed by her beauty the few times we’d met. Now, the pearls reminded me that I’d tasted her husband’s cum just a few days ago. She had already lost to me and didn’t even know it.

I leaned against the bar next to her and ordered a virgin daiquiri. “Doctor Leasch! How nice to see you again. How was your trip abroad? Did you dig up any interesting fertility statues?”

She replied over her shoulder. “Not a fertility statue exactly, but I did uncover a fascinating …” She faced me with a quizzical expression. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?” Considering the changes to my appearance since I last saw her at a faculty mixer nearly a year ago, I wasn’t surprised that she didn’t recognize me. Most days I barely recognized myself.

“My stylist said a new outfit would completely change my appearance. I suppose she was right. I’m Alexis Ames. We met at the English faculty mixer last year. I’m a colleague of your husband Grant.”

Her mouth turned sour at the mention of her unfaithful spouse. She spoke with cold politeness, “Lovely to see you again, Doctor Ames.”

“Please call me ‘Alexis.’ I’m surprised to see another faculty member here. Normally, it’s only administrators, trustees, and potential donors at these things. No scholars allowed.”

“The Leasch family have contributed to the school’s endowment for generations. I’ve been coming to these things forever. You’re the one who seems out of place. What tears you away from an old book this evening, Doctor Ames?”

Ignoring her question, I replied, “You must call me ‘Alexis.’ All my friends do. I feel like we’re old friends, considering how much Grant talked about you while you were traveling.”

Hipolyta winced. “He pestered you while I was away? I hope he wasn’t too much of a burden, Alexis.”

“Not at all. He suffered so greatly while you were gone. The bond you two share must be something special to cause him such pangs of longing while you were apart. Your chemistry could inspire a fertility cult of its own, Doctor Leasch.”

“Call me ‘Lyta.’ You’ve got the wrong idea about Grant. He’s not the man you think he is.”

“I don’t know about that, Lyta. He seems to me to be a man of good character, beset with the same vices we all are. Struggling with his passions and his appetites. While you were gone, his passion for literature kept us up many a late night debating Marlowe versus Spenser. As the weeks and months wore on, his appetite for spirits cut a swath through my wine cellar. The whole time, his passion for human connection and appetite for tender touch … well, you know how deep and profound that appetite is. What man could possibly bear so many months of separation from a beautiful woman? He’s only human.”

Her lips trembled with rage and humiliation, a single teardrop gliding down her cheek. My pearls rewarded my cruelty with a buzz of bliss throughout my body. When faced with a rival, a Pearl Girl always comes out on top.

Catching sight of Dean Dickinson, I excused myself and let Hipolyta Leasch stew in her own impotent fury.

The Dean was clearly upset, arguing with one of the guests. I recognized the man. He was an ABD adjunct professor in the history department. Peterson, perhaps? Or Paulson? All I recalled about him for certain was that he had a sneering, arrogant demeanor and misogynistic attitude that I found repugnant.

Considering that two beautiful women hung from his arms, not everyone shared my low opinion of the professor. On his left was a girl, no more than a college sophomore, with hair nearly as platinum blond as my own. She wore hers in a wavy bob, perfectly complimenting her bright red lipstick and prominent beauty mark over her lip. She bore a flirtatious smile, frozen in place as if she were paralyzed. Most notably, she wore a shiny gold corset with exaggerated bra cups in the shape of cones, as if she’d just stepped off stage from the Blond Ambition tour.

On his right arm was another girl with platinum blond hair. Hers was a pageboy style and looked clearly like a wig. The girl wore a garish dress made of a white tank top joined by two metal rings to a blue tie-dye miniskirt. The design left her sides bare with plenty of creamy flesh on display. She completed the outfit with shiny black PVC thigh-high boots, as if she were ready to stroll down Rodeo Drive and turn tricks for Richard Gere. Despite her trashy makeup and glassy-eyed expression, something seemed familiar about the student. Where had I seen—

My jaw dropped.

It was Yvonne Yates, my former lover and superheroine partner Sable!

That meant that the one dressed like the ’80s pop star must be her roommate Thora Thames! I had barely seen Yvonne all semester. Between my academic commitments and my duties as a Pearl Girl, there had been no time. Plus, to be honest, I feared what Yvonne would think of my transformation. Never once had I considered what changes might have overtaken her. What sort of monster could have caged Sable’s heroic heart and turned my fierce, spunky partner into this brainless, bimbofied knockoff of a pretty woman?

“Professor Paulson, this unacceptable!” Dean Dickinson bellowed. “I extended this invitation as an opportunity for an ambitious faculty member to make connections, not to display your exploitation of the student body!”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, Dean. I’m simply using the girls as performance-art commentary on the madonna-whore complex. It’s just a bit of fun. Freud wouldn’t mind. The girls don’t mind. Do you, girls?”

Yvonne and Thora responded in sing-song tones, perfectly synchronized. “No, Professor Paulson.”

“This is outrageous!” the dean spluttered. “You will leave immediately or your contract will be terminated! I have half a mind to—”

I stepped forward. “I’ll show the professor out, Dean.” Nudging Yvonne aside, I took Paulson’s arm.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you arrogant twat!” Paulson tried to pull away, but he was only a man. It took only the slightest pressure of my superheroic strength to keep him from escaping.

Steering him toward the door, I hissed in his ear. “You’re lucky that the Dean didn’t fire you on the spot, Paulson. Adjuncts like you, without your dissertation, are a dime a dozen. He was being merciful. Although I cannot deal with your misdeeds right now, I have no intention of being as kind as the Dean. Whatever hold you have over these two girls will end tonight. If both Yvonne and Thora are not completely freed from your influence by tomorrow morning, I will destroy you.”

As we stepped onto the portico, I placed my hand on Paulson’s chest. With a super-strong flick of my wrist, I sent the self-important oaf sprawling into the bushes. Thora scampered over to help him. Before Yvonne could follow, I took her elbow. “You don’t need to be with him, Yvonne. Whatever he’s done to you, we have friends—teammates—that can help you.”

The briefest flicker of hope crossed Yvonne’s face before being replaced with enmity. “Professor Paulson is a great man, Alexis. A great man. He’s shown me my proper place. Which is more than you ever did.”

Before I could reply, Treasure Tartarus’s voice cut through the night. “Doctor Ames, you mustn’t be late to the ball.” The slightest whiff of her exotic perfume set my pearls buzzing and made my pussy slick.

But I couldn’t leave my lover Yvonne in the clutches of that wretched man another second! Simply saying Just a moment, Treasure would allow me to go to Yvonne and make her see reason. I took a step off the portico, but the buzzing of the pearls increased around my throat, down my spine, inside my brain. The buzz increased and increased until there was nothing else inside me. The pearls buzzed my legs into turning me around. They buzzed a smile onto my face. They buzzed words from my lips. “I obey, Mistress Tartarus … but … I … must …”

The sexiest girl I had ever seen sashayed over to me, her white fur coat swaying with every step. Snaking one finger under my pearl necklace, Treasure yanked my head down so she could whisper in my ear. “The only ‘but’ you must think about tonight is your own ass, Alexis, and how much those trustees will love fucking it. Screw this up and you’ll never get to kiss me. Understand?”

While my heart broke for Yvonne, every inch of my flesh ached for Treasure’s kiss. Through the pearl-induced haze of buzzing in my head, I couldn’t want anything other than to please her. “I … understand, Mistress Tartarus.”

She released my necklace and began fussing with my dress, ensuring I looked my best. “This dress is lovely, you have flawless taste, Alexis. But I want to be sure you understand your rules for tonight. Repeat them for me.”

“I am to treat each and every trustee as though they were pearl-level members of Club Absinthe, pleasing them however I’m able.”

“Good. What else?”

“I am to stay attentive for any information that might help you gain leverage over the trustees.”

“Excellent, Alexis. And your final rule?”

“I must not cum, Mistress. I can fake as many orgasms as the situation demands, but I must not climax myself. No matter what. No excuses.” I hadn’t tasted the sweet release of orgasm in months, and I knew that streak would not be ending tonight.

“There’s a good Pearl Girl, Alexis. Go give those fat, old trustees their Viagra’s worth!” She turned and walked off into the night.

As I turned toward the doorway, a flicker of red silk retreated inside. I took three steps and stopped. I glanced over my shoulder to the bushes where I’d tossed Paulson. Neither he, Yvonne, nor Thora were anywhere to be seen. A superheroine would have tracked those innocent girls down to save them. A lover would have called Yvonne to ensure she was okay. A friend would have texted to offer support.

Without another thought, I strutted inside. Tonight, I was neither heroine, lover, nor friend. I was a Pearl Girl: first, last, and always.

—To Be Continued…