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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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The English Year - 49. The Journey

I was on this journey with Pete, and I was safe with Mike.

Hearing Pete say those words gave me the warmest feeling I’d ever felt. For that moment, his words eclipsed what Mike had said just the day before.

You’re safe with me killer were amazing words to hear from Mike. Knowing he intended to make me his boyfriend in a few short weeks. That meant something. It meant a ton.

However, there was something about Pete holding me, squeezing me, and telling me we were on this journey together that resonated even more.

Our relationship had been a journey. A battle of ups and downs. A fight of feelings. We had endured, and overcome, so much, that feeling him next to me as I went through one of the toughest stretches of my college career made me certain that what Pete and I had was so special.

That’s not to say Mike couldn’t compete. He certainly could, and my time with him this past week gave me new insight and strength. I had three weeks to figure it out. At the end of the day, I hadn’t expected either of these guys to show up, but both did. And they both did when I needed it most.

But in that moment, with Pete wrapped around me, I had a singular priority, and that was this English man.

“So tell me everything,” Pete whispered. He had me pinned against the conference table in the center of the study room. I could feel his body heat pressed against mine. I could tell he wanted to hear the truth, but that he also felt a raw sexual energy between us after our extended embrace. It had been a week since we had completely crossed that line together, and I felt a bit of sexual urgency in his touch. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk first, or if he wanted to fuck first, even if it was right there in the belly of the library.

“Where do I start?” I asked.

“How did you get involved with this in the first place?”

We moved slowly apart and sat next to each other. Pete’s hand instinctively found my thigh.

I told him about getting involved with Chip, and then gaining his trust, which led to Chip and Ryan deciding I was the perfect person to handle this for them.

“So basically they wanted someone to white wash the story?”

“You have to understand, this had the potential to make national news. Things like this get swept under the rug all the time, but this girl wasn’t going to go quietly, so they needed to come clean and paint the narrative before she could. And they knew I could do it. I was hired to lube the truth, if you will.”

“And they promised you something?”

I started to tell him that I couldn’t tell him what I had traded, but then I remembered we were on this journey together. If we were going to do this, hand in hand, side by side, he needed to know everything. He’d already figured out I was behind it. By the time the Student Executive Council tapped me, he would put those pieces together as well. I may as well come clean now, I thought.

“I’m potentially about to be one of the nine most powerful people on campus,” I said. I explained what the SEC was, what they did, and why it was the ultimate position. And it would be mine for the taking for the next year.

“Wow,” was all he said. His hand continued to rub my thigh as I explained everything to him. “That’s the big time.”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice almost hollow. I had grappled with whether the ‘big time’ was worth all of the stress I had put myself through. Selling my soul for a piece of the power pie. I still wasn’t sold that I was doing the right thing, and the fallout from minimizing this whole situation still didn’t sit well with me. There was, of course, the pressure that I felt around campus. There was another thing altogether, feeling so low about my decisions from deep inside my soul.

“Well what would it take to make it sit well with you?” Pete asked when I explained my apprehension.

“I don’t know, I just… I feel like I need to do right by this girl. I’m down here writing apologies for guys that don’t feel any sort of remorse whatsoever. We’ve got mandatory sexual assault awareness training for them, but then what? I want to make them feel it. I want to make every guy on this campus who thinks this behavior is okay to realize it’s not. I want them to know that I might have handled this for them, but I don’t condone it. And next time, I will burn the campus to the ground before I let them get away with it.”

Pete felt my passion. He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and then did something I wasn’t expecting from the reserved Brit.

He got up and knelt down in front of me, spreading my legs and sliding into the space with his torso. He gave me a slow tender kiss, rubbing his hands up my thighs.

“Listen to me, and listen carefully,” he whispered in my ear. In that position, we were perfectly aligned. I wasn’t looking up at him like I usually did. We were face to face, chest to chest. HIs voice was barely above a whisper, but it was firm, deep, and resonant.

“You are Corbin God Damned Crowley. This guy here, crying in the basement, self doubt, unsure and unclear? This isn't you. This isn’t the you that I fell in love with. If you need to handle this situation your way, then do it. Do what you need to make this better for you. Take what you need. That’s the Corbin I know. The one who chooses his own path, bulldozes his way to his goals, and these fucktards be damned, fix this situation your way. The Corbin Crowley way.”

I couldn’t help but feel my balls twitch as he whispered those words in my ear. It was then that I realized that Pete knew me. In the year I had been chasing him, he had been observing me. He’d seen me operate. He knew that even when I did things that were less than savory, I did them for the greater good. For the gain of my house, Greek life, myself.

He also knew that my sense of self assurance was my greatest asset. It wasn’t just my weapon, but when I was at my best was when I was at my most confident.

Hearing him do his best to build me back up was the biggest turn on I think I had ever felt from him. The reassurance, him knowing me, understanding me. It sent a chill down my spine, through my groin, and up my hardening cock, pressed against his stomach.

He knew what he was doing, and he felt its effects. Silently, right there in the library, he pulled back and undid my belt buckle. I grinned at him.

“Here?” I whispered. He kissed me.

“We’ve already wasted so much time. I don’t want to wait.”

I lifted my hips as Pete fished out my cock. It was already hard. He licked the glistening pearl of precum that was at the tip of my cock.

“Pete,” I sighed, running my fingers through his hair.

“Take what you need, Corbin,” he growled. “And I’ll take what I need.”

With that, he sucked down on my cock like a pro. In one swift motion, he had me all the way down, balls deep, hands still on my thighs, and my cock deep down into his mouth.

Watching Pete take the length of my cock into his mouth and down his throat took me aback for a split second. With ease, he sucked me in, sending a wave of pleasure all through me. It also reminded me about our conversation we’d had merely a week ago about what went on at all boy’s schools in the British countryside. I knew I wasn’t the first dick he’d taken down his throat, but still couldn’t forget he was the straight Brit I’d chased down for the better part of a calendar year. And yet there was, all those months later, sucking me deep in order to remind me of my own power.

In an attempt not to ‘Corbin’ the situation, like Pete had said before, I decided to sit back inside that study room and allow myself to feel instead of think.

I felt Pete pull my pants all the way down to my ankles. I felt his hands explore my body. My legs, my thighs, my round ass as he pulled me deeper and deeper inside of him. His warm palms worked their way up my torso, my chest, pinching my sensitive nipples. I felt Pete increase his suction as my breathing increased, responding to his moves.

“Fuck…” I moaned. “Suck my dick, killer.”

And he did. I felt him move his tongue around my sensitive head, eliciting moans that I prayed were contained to that room. I felt him double down on my cock as it throbbed, hard and thick.

I watched him bob up and down, suck in every drop of precum, as I massaged his head through his hair, encouraging him with eager and desperate whispers.

“Oh god, Pete,” I groaned. He responded by sucking deeper and harder.

I didn’t want it to stop. I was desperate for him to continue. But at some point, the pleasure became too much for me to handle.

It was then I felt a rush of energy course through my veins. I felt my body convulse under his touch, and with a relentless eruption, I gripped Pete’s head and unleashed down his warm throat.

I held on to him for dear life as wave after wave of my cum pulsed through my cock and into his mouth. He moaned like he was every bit in as much heat as I was, taking the entire breadth of my orgasm down his throat. I bucked two or three times, losing count of how many shots of cum I let loose in this British stud’s mouth.

After a few minutes, I came crashing down. I pulled my pants up, aware that we were in plain view of anyone walking through the basement, lucky at how deserted this area always was.

I was also aware that I had work to do.

Spurred by Pete’s pep talk, I gave him a cum filled kiss goodbye, told him I had a few phone calls to make, and that I’d see him tomorrow. I retreated to my carrel to finish up my work.

The next afternoon, I spent an uneventful morning on campus and an afternoon with my pledge brothers talking about the upcoming Hell Week for the pledges, future officers for our house, and plans for spring break. I still felt like all eyes were on me when I was on campus, but I chose to ignore the perceived scrutiny and go about my day.

Earlier that day, I had received confirmation from Dean Coleman that we could in fact facilitate an emergency IFC meeting for that Friday, a week prior to when we were scheduled to meet on our regular first Friday of the month. I couldn’t believe we were already rounding out of February, and into March. It would soon be finals, then spring break, and then our mini-semester on the other side of April would begin.

I also received word from Alexandria that she’d made minor edits to the apologies I’d written for the special run of the paper that was coming out that very afternoon.

As much as I wanted to continue my journey with Pete on both Wednesday and Thursday nights, I had so much to accomplish before Friday. He understood I needed to focus.

I also needed to meet with Chip in secret, and so I explained to Pete that I would see him on Friday night after the IFC meeting and we’d pick up exactly where we left off.

Through all of this, I couldn’t bring myself to think about Mike and what things would look like in less than a month. I didn’t have the bandwidth for it, and even though I was up against a clock of our own tinkering, I pushed those thoughts and decisions aside and focused at the task at hand.

It was weird. Both Mike and Pete had restored me in their own way. Both of them had given me the confidence and strength to continue on this journey. Both of them had reminded me of the bigger picture. Of what I was capable of. Of what I was doing all of this for. I was on this journey with Pete, and I was safe with Mike.

But one thing in the back of my mind nagged at me constantly. One of them would have their heart broken. One of them wouldn’t be with me, hand in hand, at the finish line. One of them would be discarded at the end of the journey. One of them wasn’t safe from me.

Friday evening rolled around with much of the same thoughts coursing through me. Perceived scrutiny on campus, like everyone knew I was somehow involved in the current all-campus scandal. But I couldn’t concentrate on that.

The apology special edition had done its job for the most part. From the conversations I overheard, folks had moved on from talking about the Tear Night Massacre, and were reverting back to normal conversations - weekend plans, formal dates, and the upcoming Fancy Ball theme reveal.

When the time came, I headed up from where my class was helping the freshman get ready for their Friday night party in the basement to get dressed for the emergency IFC meeting that I had triggered. On my way up, I passed Dominic’s open door. He called me in, and there was really no way to escape.

“Hey Corbin, have a second?”

I stepped into the doorframe.

“How are you holding up?” he asked. I couldn’t tell how sincere the question was, or if he was trying to lull me into a trap.

“What do you mean?”

“Your paper is all over this. An update last night. I’m just curious how you’re doing?”

“I told you I’m no longer with the paper. I haven’t been to The Founder office in over a week.”

Dom eyeballed me for a second. It was at least half true, but that didn’t stop him from forming his own assessment.

“Any idea what the emergency IFC meeting is about?”

I licked my lips and scratched at my ear to buy time and decide how I wanted to respond. Of course I knew, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell him I was the one who convinced the Dean to call it.

“I know as much as you do,” I lied. I swallowed.

I stood there as Dominic eyed me suspiciously. I decided I’d had enough of it, and told him I needed to get dressed or I would be late.

“Do me a favor, and let me know if there are any votes brought to the table. Just as we discussed,” he said as I retreated.

“I’ll represent the house just as I promised I would, Dom,” I countered, not even bothering to turn and face him.

As I walked to the conference room where the meeting was being held inside Washington Hall, I wondered how long I could dodge the campuswide scrutiny. At some point, and especially after I was tapped to the Student Executive Council, the rumors about my involvement would become too much to evade, and I’d be forced to figure out a more detailed response to how me, a mere columnist, had traded a story to get a seat on the SEC.

While that was a topic for another night, it lingered in the back of my mind. At some point, someone other than Alex and Pete would put all the pieces together. I decided as I descended up the stairs of Washington Hall to the conference room that that was a bridge to cross when I got to it.

For now, I had other fish to fry. Bigger fish. Much bigger.

The room was full. Every fraternity was represented. Clay had invited some of the SEC officers as well. This wasn’t unusual, but it was notable. The room wasn’t set up how it usually was, with five chairs behind the podium for the IFC officers. Instead, all chairs faced the podium except one, and that was the one the dean occupied.

He was presiding over the meeting instead of the officers. This felt like a big deal, even to me, who knew exactly what was about to transpire.

I looked around trying not to get nervous as Dean Clay Coleman approached the podium from his seat and called the meeting to order with a bang of the gavel. I made note of the two most important guys in the room, Chris Turner, the IFC president, and Ryan Caffey, the SEC president and Chip’s brother and partner in crime. He was a mainstay at IFC meetings, even if he wasn’t a technical member of the committee. It was indicative of his prominence on campus, and having spent time with him recently, I was still as intimidated seeing him sitting there with Chris as ever.

I watched from behind as Chris fidgeted in his seat in the front row. It was curious that he wasn’t the one calling the meeting to order, which made me think Dean Coleman hadn’t told him what the meeting was about.

Ryan, sitting to Chris’ right, knew exactly what the meeting was about, and even though I couldn’t see his face, his posture told me he was just as stressed as everyone else in the room. His shoulders slumped, and one fist held up his chin. Every once in a while, he shifted in his seat, and switched which arm was supporting his head.

The gavel banged.

“Folks, I’m going to cut to the chase, this wasn’t the best week we’ve had here on campus. There are a lot of things going around in the press, and at this point, it’s up to us as Greek leaders to get ahead of this situation.” He paused. “And rectify it.”

There was a silent murmur as everyone in the room shifted in their chairs uncomfortably.

“Charles Wallace, along with an at-large member from Chi Beta, requested this meeting. As chair of Greek Outreach, I appreciated his proactiveness in getting us all together. We will have our regular meeting next week, as scheduled. But I thought it was important to grant this request and get all of you together as quickly as possible. I don’t want to keep you, so I move to bring Charles up to the podium.”

Chris seconded the motion. They ayes took it unanimously, and Chip walked up to where Dean Coleman had been standing. He took a deep breath, adjusted his tie, and began with a sigh.

“We all know why we’re here,” he stated. “As chairman of Greek Outreach, I’ve been fielding questions and calls since the anonymous op-ed in The Founder dropped three days ago. As of right now, no fraternities have been singled out in the reporting or in any of the rumors I’ve heard across campus, and I’m confident that it will remain that way.”

There was another shift of energy in the room. Almost a collective sigh. The guys must have thought that there was going to be a mass scolding, a revelation of the culprits, or some sort of reveal of who exactly was going to be burned at the stake for this debacle.

Those who knew the culprits knew, and the rest of them were just as curious as everyone else out there on campus.

Chip finished his introduction, pausing to look directly at me. I nodded at him.

“However, moving forward there are some changes that I think are pertinent to retaining our reputation as gentlemen within the Greek community. If we’re honest, this could have been a nightmare for us, and we were literally saved by that article pointing every finger at campus athletics and not at Greek life.”

There was another silent shift.

“Camps athletics… specifically the football team,” Chip let the last line linger in the air, just as we’d discussed over the phone. This time the murmur wasn’t silent. There was a whisper amongst the other guys in the room, until Chip cleared his throat and continued. “We won’t be so lucky next time something like this happens on campus, and so we want to take some precautions moving forward. We also want to make it plain and clear that we as a community don’t condone this behavior.”

“Who is we?” a guy I didn’t recognize blurted out from a few seats away.

“We is… the outreach committee… myself, and someone who has been helping me put all of this together.”

“All of what together?” another outburst.

“Seriously, quit talking in riddles. What the heck does precautions mean?”

“Hey guys,” the Dean stood up behind Chip. “Charles has the floor, and the chair hasn’t acknowledged any speakers. Please.”

It wasn’t the crispest Parliamentary Procedure, and even though it was only my third meeting, I assumed the Dean didn’t normally preside, so I gave him a pass. I was pretty sure Chris would have been hot on the gavel if he was in charge that evening.

“Thanks, Dean,” Chip muttered, his voice low. “Um… I guess this is a good time to bring up the other half of this whole thing. To answer your question about who we is, I did have someone help me with this entire… proposal. The chair recognizes Corbin Crowley of Chi Beta to the podium.”

This was it. I stood up slowly, held my folder to my side as confidently as I could, and walked down the center aisle to the podium.

Chip and I had decided a couple things. The first was that he would stand up there with me as I presented the proposal. I tried not to meet anyone’s eyes facing towards me, but it was impossible. They all wondered what I had to do with this proposal. Some of them, I could tell, wondered who the fuck I even was.

Corbin God Damned Crowley, I heard Pete whisper in my head. Take what’s yours.

But I couldn’t begin without scanning the face on the front row of the two most powerful guys on campus: I made eye contact with Ryan as I cleared my throat. A silent reminder of what the deal was, why all of this was happening, and what I intended to get from it all in the end.

Take what’s yours.

He averted his gaze. I cleared my throat and began.

“So as you know, The Founder published an op-ed in this week’s paper that detailed some very troubling actions that took place on Tear Night. I may no longer be with the paper personally,” I swallowed. “But my contacts tell me this could have been much much worse for the Greek community in aggregate. Much worse. It was decided, however, to steer the fallout in a different direction.”

I watched the guys shift in their seats. All eyes were on me, wondering exactly how much I knew, and how I knew it. I didn’t care anymore, I had decided after Pete’s pep talk. If I couldn’t go after these guys publicly, I was determined to make them understand that I was still involved in calling the shots. Founder or no Founder, I had the cards in my hand.

Corbin God Damned Crowley.

“So here is what we’ve decided to pull together to help save face as a community. On Monday, the IFC will announce the implementation of a Sexual Assault Awareness Summit. As you all know, Outreach has been planning an entrepreneurial summit for this spring, but the chair and I have concluded that this topic is too important, and therefore we will be funneling those resources accordingly.”

Another low murmur as guys whispered under their breaths. I waited for a beat. I looked behind my shoulder at Chip standing to my left, then back at the crowd and continued.

“The summit will be co-sponsored by Panhellenic, naturally. The office of the Dean of Students, thank you Dean Coleman for setting that up. And the SEC,” I finished, glancing at Ryan again.

“What we are hoping for is the following. You all will be campus leaders on this initiative, and ensure that every member of your houses receive a proper education on this matter. Therefore, we are proposing a seventy-five mandatory attendance to the summit.”

“That’s insane,” someone said just loud enough for me to hear. The Dean immediately shot out of his seat.

“We can’t even get seventy-five percent of our members to come to chapter meetings, let alone some continued learning summit.”

“You don’t even have the details yet-” I countered.

“What happens if we don’t get to that number?” Another guy shouted.

“This is ludicrous.”

“Some of us didn’t even do anything.”

“Most of us didn’t do anything!”

A pandemonium ensued pretty quickly, and I felt my palms begin to sweat. .

“Guys, let Corbin finish the proposal please.” The Dean rapped his gavel.

My lips suddenly went dry. This was the part I was afraid of. When we’d discussed this before, with the six guys implicated, their involvement would be to encourage their brothers to take this seriously. In taking back the narrative, I had stressed to Chip that I wanted involvement to be required, and I wouldn’t settle on that point. It was the only way I could feel right about what had happened.

“Listen, we have an opportunity here to be thought leaders on this campus, and this event that took place on Tear Night could be the catalyst for that. For some real and necessary changes around here. But it’s going to start with all of us in this room to make it a priority for our brothers. Isn’t that what this whole thing is about?”

I looked around the room gaining strength with every word. I decided to go into my next round of prepared guilt mongering.

“I don’t have as much of a dog in this fight, for obvious reasons, and yet here I am trying to preserve our reputation as gentlemen on this campus. All I’m saying is getting three quarters of your membership there is a small price to pay for that preservation.”

“Can we compromise on this?” another guy from the back of the room shouted out. I recognized him as the President of Sigma Nu. “Seventy-five percent is… punitive.”

I ran my tongue across my teeth.

“What number would you feel is less than punitive?” I challenged. I was in my element, and the razor edge in my voice indicated that I wasn’t going to abide a stupid answer from him.

“How about… forty?” he squirmed.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” I rolled my eyes and spat my words. I physically shifted my gaze away from him and in the opposite direction.

“This whole thing sounds pretty ridiculous to me. You can’t force us to attend something like this. What are you going to do? Revoke our charter?”

“Afraid you might learn something?” I countered.

“You literally can’t just waltz in here-”

“Okay,” Ryan finally stood up and approached the podium. “What Corbin and Chip want to do is the right thing. I’ve had the chance to hear them out on this. We have to make a show of solidarity here, and we need to get our houses on board. That’s non-negotiable.” I gave Ryan a look, indicating to him that he needed to press on further. I looked down at my folder, and then back up at him.

“Also,” he continued slowly. It was a sight to see this powerful man look so timid. Neutered. “The Founder releasing the names of the houses involved is still a possibility. We have good reason to trust that if we adopt this proposal, that possibility will be neutralized.”

He chose his words carefully. There was a clear quid quo pro here, but saying the words out loud would be too much. Everyone in that room realized what he meant, and we kept it at that. The threat was very much on the table, and we had decided if it came down to it, we would pull that threat out, and make it very palpable for each and every one of the guys in the room. And here we were.

There was another rumbling of guys talking over each other once Ryan sat back down. I looked at Chip, then at Ryan, and went in for what we had decided would be our ultimate compromise. It was on the one-sheet. It was our final offer. And I was ready to present it. I took a deep breath.

“How about this,” I began confidently. I knew we would have to negotiate our way down, we’d anticipated this. This was the meat of the proposal. This is what everyone involved agreed they could live with. “Mandatory attendance for officers. President, Vice-President, Recruitment Chair. Each house appoints a new officer. A harassment compliance officer. And then you send one member at large from each class. That’s only eight members required. Open enrollment on top of that, and the Dean’s office awards philanthropy hours for every ten delegates who attend. In exchange for a smaller group,” I finished. “Each house is required to host an in-house workday, scheduled at your convenience at some point within fourteen days of the summit. 90% attendance required at your in-house meetings. Sign off to the dean’s office, subject to honor violation for any attendance numbers that are… inaccurate.”

“This is a joke,” the same vocal guy said again.

“Do I look like I’m laughing about any of this?” I drilled my gaze right into him.

“Everyone takes harassment classes during freshman orientation,” he replied, squaring off directly to me. The rest of the room was completely still. “What’s going to be different about this quote un-quote summit?”

“Everyone takes harassment classes during freshman orientation, but apparently our memories don’t last us all four years, do they?” I countered. “Or else we wouldn’t be here discussing what six seniors did to one girl during Tear Night. Maybe a refresher now and again, say every year, would help make the change you’re so convinced is impossible.”

“Guys will be guys, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I reject that,” I replied. “And if we can stop one guy from being that guy, then it would all have been worth it.”

I raised an eyebrow and cocked my neck. I knew I had them. It was time for another guy in the crowd to step up and challenge me.

“What exactly is this compliance officer thing?”

Chip took this one, as it had been his idea over the course of our phone call the previous evening. I was actually proud of him for coming up with it. Not proud enough to forget his involvement, but proud nonetheless.

“We think the guys might take this more seriously if we… police each other. Someone to be responsible in case something like this happens inside one of our houses. Just like a pledge master in the event someone is accused of hazing.”

“Someone to take the fall if one of our brothers decides to do something stupid? Who would sign up for that?” the loudmouth responded, dripping disdain and sarcasm. I was done with that guy, so in that split second, I decided to clear him.

“Are you afraid you won’t be able to keep your brothers out of a drunk girl’s pants? That maybe a little peer pressure won’t be enough to stop one of your brothers from committing assault? That maybe you’re incapable of controlling yourself and you don’t want to put that burden on someone you pledged with? What house are you in? Let me check my notes and see if your letters sound familiar to me.” I leaned over the podium and gave him my best stare down.

You could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. No one moved, waiting for one of us to say something. I wasn’t going to budge, but instead stared the idiot down like he was as small as a thimble.

“Social chairs too,” he said finally. His voice quivered, and I could tell his goal was to save face.

“Huh?”

“Officers, a compliance officer, one from each class, and social chairs. You all plan the parties, you should be aware of what could potentially go on at them.”

I didn’t bat an eye.

“Done.” I punctuated. “Are there any other questions for me?”

No one said anything. I had one final power play up my sleeve, and I decided to use it right then.

“Here’s what I think we should do. The details of the summit are all specified here. Ryan, do you mind handing one of these out to everyone?” I opened my folder and handed him a stack of papers. Asking the guy with the highest pedigree in the room to do me a menial favor gave me a rush I didn’t anticipate. It was like going to an orgy and topping the guy with the biggest dick in front of everyone. “Why don’t we take a short recess? You guys can look this over. We can hammer out any changes, including adding a social chair to the list of mandatory attendance, and we can vote on the specifics when we meet next week. Assuming we’re all in favor of moving forward and announcing on Monday, it should just be window dressing from here on out.”

I didn’t wait for an answer. As soon as I was done, I walked back to my seat and watched quietly as Ryan handed out the one-sheet to the room of guys. There was a general wave of uneasy conversation as the meeting was adjourned by the Dean. I didn’t have any desire to stick around and make small talk, so I finished up, said my goodbyes to Ryan, Chip, and Dean Coleman, and beelined out of the conference room, out of Washington hall, down The Colonnade, and straight to Pete’s dorm suite.

“Everything went perfectly,” I panted to Pete, out of breath from practically running to him. I started tearing his clothes off as soon as he opened the door and asked me how it had gone. I knew his roommate would be at our party that night, and he’d have the suite to himself. I also knew he would be waiting for me to come straight there, as he’d promised.

What he didn’t know was that standing up there in front of the campus elite and imposing my will on them would give me such an adrenaline rush that I wouldn't be able to walk through the door without pouncing on his body. The sheer energy of that moment, that take down, swatting each and every objection, made me so horny for the Brit who had helped me craft this plan, that we were rolling around on his bed, naked, within seconds of me pushing my way into his bedroom.

“I can’t handle how perfect it was,” I purred between long kisses.

“I can’t handle how perfect you are,” Pete moaned into my ear. Then he said something that spun me on a dime.

“The Corbin God Damned Crowley. All fucking mine.”

I could have drawn blood with how aggressively I dove into him hearing those words.

“Fuck,” I sighed. “I fucking love you.”

I had said those words before, and meant them. But never as much as I meant them that night.

Words escaped us at that point. The only sounds that filled the room were our grunts and moans as we eagerly explored each other’s bodies. We were like school boys fucking for the first time. Our hands were everywhere. Our kisses were relentless. Passionate, romantic, forceful. I never wanted to let Pete go.

Eventually, he spun me around like a rag doll and climbed on top of me. His knees spread my legs apart. His chest slid across my back as he kissed his way from my neck to my ear. With a strong grip, he held my neck and forced my face around to meet his. I could feel every inch of his body against mine. His rock hard cock pressed against me, grinding slowly as it found its way to the spot it belonged.

Holding my neck firmly, choking me slightly but kissing me tenderly, I felt Pete ease in steadily, creating a path into me, resistance be damned.

I took a deep breath. His mostly dry penetration felt like a million hot pokers in my hole, but the moment was so raw, so intense, and so passionate, I didn’t want to interrupt it. Instead, I focused on his lips against mine and his hold on me.

He went in slowly. I felt his head expand as he pushed further and further, opening me up for the rest of him. He pulled out slightly, but not all the way, and then slid back in further this time. He repeated this over and over, not once letting up, and not ever releasing my lips and my neck from his grasp.

I couldn’t form words. All I could do was groan in anticipation of how good this would feel once I loosened up and let him all the way in.

It took a while, but finally I felt Pete’s thrusts get easier and easier. And then once I felt his cock glide effortlessly past my prostate, Pete bottomed out on top of me. His weight covered me in two hundred pounds of intense love like I had never felt before.

“Fuck,” I sighed finally, rolling my head back onto the pillow, closing my eyes, and enjoying every inch of him. I bucked back to meet his thrust. Slowly at first. Then faster. Then faster still, until we formed a rhythm that was all our own.

This was the kind of love making I had been waiting for all year. This was the moment that Pete and I had fought for for months on end. It was like something came over us. It was animalistic yet passionate. Raw, yet intertwined. Ravaging, yet romantic.

Dare I say, it was better than the first time we had fucked a week prior. We were a team, not only in his bed that night, but in life. He was here for the journey, and we consummated that declaration with the most intense sex I’d ever had up to that point.

“Fuck me,” I shouted over and over with abandon. I wanted it. I wanted him. And the more I felt of him, inch by inch, the more I wanted.

And then it happened. Pete released my neck, pulled my hands into his and interlocked our fingers. He continued to thrust like a madman, sending waves of pleasure through me. I continued to whimper and moan in pleasure.

That night, it felt like everything had aligned. Our bodies were in perfect sync.

“I’m going to shoot,” I panted. I was reaching that point. I was spent. I could hear Pete’s breathing quicken. The friction of his body pushing me into his mattress, and his cock railing my ass, created the perfect combination for the perfect orgasm.

“I’m going to cum!”

I felt my orgasm well up within me. I didn't even try to fight it. I knew Pete was close based on his breathing, but I couldn’t tell how close. I didn’t care. My body had crossed the point of no return.

He collapsed on me, and then I felt it. Wave after wave of warm cum filled me from inside. I felt it shoot like a rocket inside of me, coating every inch of me. His eruption triggered my eruption, and for a moment, every ounce of pleasure that Pete and I shared erupted together into the most intense feeling I’d ever felt in my entire life. I was in heaven, I decided. This was it. This was the one thing I wanted to experience over and over for the rest of my life.

In the afterglow of the best sex I’d ever had, I rehashed the entire meeting with Pete. I recounted everything I’d said to those guys, and how I felt really good about the outcome of what we could make of this situation. It still wasn’t perfect, of course. But there was no way it could be. But watching those guys in that room bend to what I considered the best possible outcome made me extremely proud.

And Pete had been there for the journey.

Pete listened. He asked questions. He made me rehash exactly what I had said, word for word.

“You did it,” he said. “You did something good.”

“We did it.” I took his hand in mine and brought it to my lips. I kissed the back of his hand. I don’t remember when I fell asleep. I remember waking up with the sun on Saturday morning at the end of February, getting dressed while Pete slept soundly after a night of multiple orgasms. I remember feeling like I was on the ultimate high as I pulled on my wool peacoat, plaid scarf, and walked back to the frat house. I was in yesterday’s clothes, but that didn’t matter one bit. I was on cloud nine.

I felt like I was gliding through the alley back to the house. I solved it. I had found a way to stomach what I’d done, my involvement in all of this. I had finally used my strengths for good, and something positive would surely come out of all of this.

I walked up to the house confidently, and strode straight up to my room.

I was surprised to be greeted by David Marcosi lying in my bed. He shot up as soon as he heard the door open.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, shocked at finding him there without warning. “You slept here last night?”

David sat up in my bed. He was shirtless, of course, and under the covers. He scooted up, reached for one of my sweaters that had the university logo on it, and pulled it on.

“Sorry,” he said groggily. He looked guilty about something.

“It’s okay. You can stay here anytime,” I walked into the room, trying to adjust. Something felt off, as if he didn’t actually want to be there. “Do you want to talk about something?”

He crawled out of the bed. He was wearing boxers, but immediately threw on the jeans I assumed he’d been wearing the night before.

“Um, no, I ummmm…” he walked to my desk and picked up an envelope. He walked to the door and presented it to me.

“The seniors wanted me to give you this.”

“The seniors?”

“Well… not just the seniors. I don’t know.”

“What is it?”

“Dom said I was supposed to stay here until you got back, and that I should give this to you when you got back.”

My stomach suddenly sank. What the fuck was in the envelope? And why was David the one tasked to giving it to me?

“What’s inside?”

“I don’t know. They said not to read it. I thought you’d come back last night.”

I started to open the envelope, and then decided to ask David to leave. I had a sinking feeling about what was inside the envelope, and I didn’t want him to see my reaction. I swallowed hard as I unglued the closure.

“Thank you, David.” I croaked, almost choked up already. “That’s all for now.”

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

I shot him a look, and he immediately left the room, still wearing my sweatshirt, and a concerned look on his face.

Brother Corbin M Crowley, The Executive Committee of the Chi Beta Fraternity requires your presence at a formal chapter meeting on Monday, March 9th, 2009, to begin at 9 o’clock in the evening. Please come dressed according to the bylaws of Formal Chapter.

The reason for this summons is the 4/5ths expulsion trial of Brother Corbin M Crowley, in accordance with the local and national bylaws of Chi Beta Fraternity. During this meeting, the brotherhood will determine the active status of Brother Corbin M Crowley in accordance with a breach of the Code of Conduct adopted by the Chi Beta fraternity as established by our national charter and local chapter. The meeting will be held in accordance with our bylaws and follow the procedures specified forthwith.

Mr. Crowley will face his accuser, The Executive Committee of the Chi Beta Fraternity, as chaired by President Dominic Slavin. The EC will appoint a representative to serve as its ‘Prosecutor’ and present the case against Brother Crowley. Brother Crowley reserves the right to select any member of the Chi Beta Fraternity to serve as his ‘Defender.’ Brother Crowley reserves the right to defend himself.

Brother Crowley will be given ample time to prepare a defense. This summons serves as his notice, and his trial has been scheduled for March 9th. The EC deems ten days ample time, in accordance with our bylaws.

Brother Crowley will be given the opportunity to call witnesses in his defense to address the charges listed below. The EC Prosecutor will also be given the opportunity to call witnesses. Mr. Crowley will then be given the opportunity to cross examine any of the EC’s witnesses. All witnesses will be deposed in the Chi Beta library, outside of the Formal Chapter meeting space. Once all witnesses have been deposed, the brotherhood will return to the Formal Chapter meeting room to conclude the proceedings. This is done to protect and maintain Formal Chapter secrecy in accordance with our bylaws.

All witness testimony will be taken at this specified time. Witnesses for the Prosecution or Defense who are unable to attend will be forfeited. No hearsay witnesses will be allowed to testify, and the Presiding Officer reserves the right to strike inappropriate testimony from the record.

Brother Crowley will be given the opportunity to give opening and closing remarks, not to exceed twenty minutes in total time.

Brother Crowley will be allowed to present any and all material evidence in his defense. The EC Prosecutor will be given the same opportunity. The Presiding Officer reserves the right to strike any inappropriate, or deemed irrelevant, evidence presented for the record.

Upon the completion of the presentations of witnesses and evidence, the brotherhood, serving as his Jury, will be allowed to ask Brother Crowley and the EC Prosecutor for clarification on any points of order in the form of a question only. The Presiding Officer will judiciously ensure no declarative statements are made during this portion. The brotherhood will be advised that misconduct during this portion of the proceeding will result in a forfeiture of their vote.

Once all witnesses and evidence has been presented to the satisfaction of the brotherhood, the Presiding Officer will call for The Vote.

The Vote will be taken in Rank order. No exceptions will be made for brothers not in attendance for the entire proceeding. No proxy votes will be allowed. Voting brothers must be present for all witnesses, evidence, and discussion. The Presiding Officer will keep time in accordance with our bylaws, and allow for breaks as needed.

Finally, if the brotherhood finds Brother Crowley guilty of the charges specified below by a vote of 4/5th of a quorum of the brothers in attendance, Brother Crowley will revoke his membership to Chi Beta, return his pledge pin, and be forthwith expelled from the brotherhood. A quorum is specified as 7/8ths of the brotherhood. A voice roll call will be taken by the records keeper prior to the gaveling of proceedings by the presider.

The charges against Brother Crowley, in accordance with our bylaws, are as follows.

Displaying Ungentlemanly Conduct in conjunction with representation of Chi Beta letters.

Displaying behaviors that have caused irreparable harm to the reputation of Chi Beta Fraternity.

Displaying material dishonesty, resulting in the distrust of members of Chi Beta Fraternity

In accordance with our bylaws, the representative of the EC to prove these allegations against Brother Corbin Crowley are as follows:

Presider: Brother Dominic Slavin

Records Keeper: Brother Brian Wilson

Prosecutor: Brother Chad Hutchinson

 

Everything about the words on that paper hit me like a ton of bricks. The procedure, which I was sure none of us in the current brotherhood had ever gone through. The idea that we would have to crawl in and out of our formal chapter space and wear heavy robes for this charade. The idea that I could actually get kicked out of my fraternity.

But what hit me hardest, what made me want to vomit right then and there, was the very last line of the summons.

Prosecutor: Brother Chad Hutchinson.

“How could you?” I barged into his room with reckless abandon. “How the fuck could you do this to me? I’m your fucking pledge brother.”

Hutch stirred. I noticed someone else in his bed, but I didn’t give one flying fuck.

“What are you talking about?” he stretched.

I threw the piece of paper and the envelope at him as he sat up in bed. The girl next to him squirmed, looked at me with racoon eyes, and melted back to sleep.

“You want me out of the house?” my voice broke. “What the actual fuck?”

“Corbin, I can explain.”

“Explain? Explain how you’re so far under Dom’s thumb you’ll kick your own brother out of the house.”

“It isn’t like that.”

“What’s going on?” the girl under the covers yawned. My chest heaved. My blood boiled. I felt like I could combust at any moment from sheer rage. I wanted to end Hutch right then and there.

“This is beyond anything I’ve ever done to you. Even if I… Even if I…”

That’s when the tears began to flow uncontrollably. Hutch looked at me like I was a lost dog, soaking wet. I sucked it in and took a deep breath. I squared my shoulders. No way in hell I was going to cry in that room in front of him and whatever sorostitute he had brought home last night. He’d already seen enough of my weakness. Fuck that.

“Even if I win this thing,” I snatched the paper from where it had landed on his lap. “There is no coming back from a 4/5ths vote. I’m done here. You all want me done here.”

I took a step back, ready to retreat. I wanted to hear what Hutch had to say for himself, but I also wanted to be a thousand miles away.

“Corbin,” his voice was laced with pity. I could have spat. I shook my head and took another step backwards.

“Do you guys want me to leave?” the girl asked. I didn’t recognize her, but she seemed innocent enough in her freshly sexed state. I assumed she was a freshman.

“Don’t bother. I’ll go.”

I turned. I heard Hutch pounce out of bed. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.

“Corbin.”

I turned and there was my pledge brother, stark naked, pulling me back to explain.

“Corbin, wait. Just wait.”

I shoved him away from me and made a beeline for the door. Hutch found the closest pair of boxers he could, and pulled them on quickly. He followed me out in the hall where I didn’t care who heard me. It was barely dawn, and I knew the bulk of guys would be nursing hangovers, but as soon as Hutch was in the hallway, I unleashed.

“You left me a note. Not even the decency of telling me face to face-”

“The note was Dom-”

“Because you knew this was chickenshit and I would eat you all alive if you had told me to my face.”

“Corbin, calm down. Please.”

“You had DAVID deliver it! DAVID!” I was inconsolable. “My FUCKING little!”

It was then that I realized a few of the brothers who lived on the top floor had opened their doors to see what was going on.

“You are a coward. Dominic is a coward!”

“We just need to-”

“Need to what, Chad? Crucify me? Nail me to the FUCKING cross?!”

“We have questions. The brotherhood deserves answers to those questions. Nobody wants you-”

“Fuck the brotherhood and fuck you!” I spat the words at him so hard he physically took a step back. “There’s no coming back from this.”

“You’ll get your chance to prove your case to everyone,” Hutch shrugged. I could tell he was unnerved, but standing his ground. I looked around at the audience that had formed. I pursed my lips and strained my neck. It took every muscle in my body not to break down.

“Three things, and I don’t give a flying fuck who hears this. Understand three things.”

I took a step towards Hutch and placed a single finger on his bare chest.

“One. Whoever came up with this bright idea will pay. Two. Anyone who thinks they’re going to vote against me is making a big mistake. And three.” I lowered my voice to just above a whisper. More effective than a shout. I could feel the goosebumps from every guy watching in that hallway. I felt like I could collapse at any minute, but I drew every ounce of strength I could. “Listen to me loud and clear, brother. I’m not going anywhere.”

I pushed Hutch back with a thousand pounds of force in my one index finger, and blasted my way through the guys standing around. I bulldozed into my room, slammed the door, and locked it. I collapsed on my couch, and within a second Mister was on my chest.

I laid there heaving, catching my breath, and trying to bring my body back from the brink of spontaneous combustion. Every nerve in my body was a flame. I had gone from the highest feeling of bliss to… this.

But even in my explosive anger, I knew I had work to do. I knew I had to fight them. I knew I couldn’t let Dom win this. I’d taken on the biggest names on campus. I could take on Dominic Slavin and Chad Hutchinson and whomever else they had in their corner.

I knew I had to prepare for the trial of my life. The trial of Corbin M. Crowley.

Thank you so much for your continued support. I hope you enjoy the update. As always, comments and feedback are always greatly apprecited and welcome.
Copyright © 2016 Jwolf; All Rights Reserved.
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Chapter Comments

Got to say, I’m disappointed in Hutch. While I’ve never had any experience with Greek Life, this seems overkill. Regardless of how he might feel wronged by Corbin in recent weeks, this seems like a massive betrayal of someone who was one of his closest friends.  He has to know the ramifications that Corbin pointed out - but he seems to be trying to play dumb to that?

Theory - Chi Beta leadership put two and two together, and decided if they can’t stop Corbin’s ascension through the expulsion, they can reduce his influence on SEC through the whole show of the trial.

Also, even if they don’t like his scheming and plotting, hasn’t it largely helped the house? Or are they just too stupid to accept that there are other ways of doing things - working within and around the system?

Also, robes? Seriously? Another reason I never respected frats on campus XD

Edited by Israfil
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8 hours ago, Israfil said:

Got to say, I’m disappointed in Hutch. While I’ve never had any experience with Greek Life, this seems overkill. Regardless of how he might feel wronged by Corbin in recent weeks, this seems like a massive betrayal of someone who was one of his closest friends.  He has to know the ramifications that Corbin pointed out - but he seems to be trying to play dumb to that?

Theory - Chi Beta leadership put two and two together, and decided if they can’t stop Corbin’s ascension through the expulsion, they can reduce his influence on SEC through the whole show of the trial.

Also, even if they don’t like his scheming and plotting, hasn’t it largely helped the house? Or are they just too stupid to accept that there are other ways of doing things - working within and around the system?

Also, robes? Seriously? Another reason I never respected frats on campus XD

Okay, you bring up some pretty solid points. But I have to ask what you think Corbin would have done if the shoe were on the other foot? Would he let Hutch get away with something’? I think ultimately the guys see a chance to shoot the king and not miss, and they’re taking it. 
And yeah, formal chapter was a lot of pomp and circumstance, I’m not gonna lie 

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19 hours ago, methodwriter85 said:

Something tells me they aren't going to be like high school mock trial.

It's funny we haven't even gotten to spring break yet. LOL

What someone has brought up before is that Corbin may not be the most reliable narrator, and in that I mean he may perceive this trial as WAY bigger than some of the other guys in the house. But he’s our narrator so we get to live all the drama of the trial that Corbin perceives. 

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On 12/15/2022 at 4:40 PM, Jwolf said:

Okay, you bring up some pretty solid points. But I have to ask what you think Corbin would have done if the shoe were on the other foot? Would he let Hutch get away with something’? I think ultimately the guys see a chance to shoot the king and not miss, and they’re taking it. 
And yeah, formal chapter was a lot of pomp and circumstance, I’m not gonna lie 

Oh, he wouldn't let him get away with a slight - but would he be this disproportionate, especially against someone who was a close ally? Then again, he has a temper >_> I'm trying to figure out why Hutch feels so wronged - especially since Corbin has proven his usefulness to Chi Beta. It seems like a waste.

Though your other answer mentions the other guys might not see it as such a big deal. If Hutch sees little risk of Corbin being expelled, it could just be his way to force some clear answers from someone who would otherwise not give them or dole them out piecemeal. My gut reaction was Hutch was faking the pity but could be he was being genuine when he saw how hard his friend was taking it. Though, I relate to Corbin pretty hardcore (not as smart though) and I would have a similar reaction in the vein of "how dare you demand answers from me," especially at that age...

It occurred to me that one of the accused parties might have complained to Dom and co. - the "ungentlemanly behavior" and "eroding trust in Chi Beta" could be related to Corbin threatening them, and thus, going against some kind of Greek life code.  I can see someone spinning it as Corbin's threat to expose their skeletons reflecting on Chi Beta - rich frat bros are expected to take care of their own after all, and making entitled men feel small will almost always means they will be vengeful down the line, especially if their imaginary "manhood" has been threatened. As I write this, I realize that could be all it is for Hutch and Dom.

Edited by Israfil
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"I was in heaven, I decided. This was it. This was the one thing I wanted to experience over and over for the rest of my life."

Says/thinks CC. The question is: is this a/his decision re Mike or Pete...? if so: what do I think about a man - is he a man? - who makes decisions based on momentary bliss, however orgiastically satisfying it may be?

But of course we're not yet to know, given the dramatic turn the tale now takes. And precisely that has me facing a nagging doubt: is this, really, the best way to create the chapters that will bring the story to an end, or simply an indication that the author cannot yet say good-by to his own creation? Of course, throughout this saga some of the men in CC's frat house have been vying for power; from that perspective, the decision to introduce this turn may serve to end this aspect of the tale. But yet...

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On 12/15/2022 at 2:09 PM, Israfil said:

Oh, he wouldn't let him get away with a slight - but would he be this disproportionate, especially against someone who was a close ally? Then again, he has a temper >_> I'm trying to figure out why Hutch feels so wronged - especially since Corbin has proven his usefulness to Chi Beta. It seems like a waste.

Though your other answer mentions the other guys might not see it as such a big deal. If Hutch sees little risk of Corbin being expelled, it could just be his way to force some clear answers from someone who would otherwise not give them or dole them out piecemeal. My gut reaction was Hutch was faking the pity but could be he was being genuine when he saw how hard his friend was taking it. Though, I relate to Corbin pretty hardcore (not as smart though) and I would have a similar reaction in the vein of "how dare you demand answers from me," especially at that age...

It occurred to me that one of the accused parties might have complained to Dom and co. - the "ungentlemanly behavior" and "eroding trust in Chi Beta" could be related to Corbin threatening them, and thus, going against some kind of Greek life code.  I can see someone spinning it as Corbin's threat to expose their skeletons reflecting on Chi Beta - rich frat bros are expected to take care of their own after all, and making entitled men feel small will almost always means they will be vengeful down the line, especially if their imaginary "manhood" has been threatened. As I write this, that could be all it is for Hutch and Dom.

 

On 12/15/2022 at 2:09 PM, Israfil said:

Oh, he wouldn't let him get away with a slight - but would he be this disproportionate, especially against someone who was a close ally? Then again, he has a temper >_> I'm trying to figure out why Hutch feels so wronged - especially since Corbin has proven his usefulness to Chi Beta. It seems like a waste.

Though your other answer mentions the other guys might not see it as such a big deal. If Hutch sees little risk of Corbin being expelled, it could just be his way to force some clear answers from someone who would otherwise not give them or dole them out piecemeal. My gut reaction was Hutch was faking the pity but could be he was being genuine when he saw how hard his friend was taking it. Though, I relate to Corbin pretty hardcore (not as smart though) and I would have a similar reaction in the vein of "how dare you demand answers from me," especially at that age...

It occurred to me that one of the accused parties might have complained to Dom and co. - the "ungentlemanly behavior" and "eroding trust in Chi Beta" could be related to Corbin threatening them, and thus, going against some kind of Greek life code.  I can see someone spinning it as Corbin's threat to expose their skeletons reflecting on Chi Beta - rich frat bros are expected to take care of their own after all, and making entitled men feel small will almost always means they will be vengeful down the line, especially if their imaginary "manhood" has been threatened. As I write this, that could be all it is for Hutch and Dom.

There’s a scene in the next chapter that involves Corbin and his brothers. I don’t want to spoil anything, but there are multiple opinions on what Corbin did and how ‘severe’ his punishment should be. And yea the different perspectives on how big this trial is. Corbin’s baseline is drama, so expect fireworks. 

Edited by Jwolf
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18 hours ago, petrus said:

"I was in heaven, I decided. This was it. This was the one thing I wanted to experience over and over for the rest of my life."

Says/thinks CC. The question is: is this a/his decision re Mike or Pete...? if so: what do I think about a man - is he a man? - who makes decisions based on momentary bliss, however orgiastically satisfying it may be?

But of course we're not yet to know, given the dramatic turn the tale now takes. And precisely that has me facing a nagging doubt: is this, really, the best way to create the chapters that will bring the story to an end, or simply an indication that the author cannot yet say good-by to his own creation? Of course, throughout this saga some of the men in CC's frat house have been vying for power; from that perspective, the decision to introduce this turn may serve to end this aspect of the tale. But yet...

I’m not sure I fully understand the comment. But you seem fascinated with the story wrapping up and doing so quickly. As a ‘slice of life’ story, there’s still plenty left to dive into, and so many side stories that could have been included. This is the track we’re taking, but if we’re honest the story can ‘end’ at anytime. Or go on as long as I want it to. Many readers have gotten on and off the train at different times and that’s okay. 

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On 12/16/2022 at 9:19 PM, Jwolf said:

I’m not sure I fully understand the comment. But you seem fascinated with the story wrapping up and doing so quickly. As a ‘slice of life’ story, there’s still plenty left to dive into, and so many side stories that could have been included. This is the track we’re taking, but if we’re honest the story can ‘end’ at anytime. Or go on as long as I want it to. Many readers have gotten on and off the train at different times and that’s okay. 

My personal vote is that the story should go on for as long as I want it to.(as in me, not Jon without an "H", sidebar, I get asked is my name with an "h" is short for Jonathon, strange) And "I" want it to go on for much much much longer.  However, I want part II of the trial NOW!  I mean come on Jon its been 5 days, the wait is killing me.

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If there is one thing @Jwolfhas masterfully done (and I propound there is far more that one thing)it is to encourage the audience to identify and root for a less-than-reliable narrator and an often less-than-sympathetic protagonist.  Once again, it feels like Dom is playing solitaire while Corbin plays tri-dimensional chess. Yet, the sense of hurt and betrayal is still palpable. To Hutch, this may not be that big a deal. CC almost always sees the bigger picture. 

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On 12/22/2022 at 3:43 AM, Rkench said:

If there is one thing @Jwolfhas masterfully done (and I propound there is far more that one thing)it is to encourage the audience to identify and root for a less-than-reliable narrator and an often less-than-sympathetic protagonist.  Once again, it feels like Dom is playing solitaire while Corbin plays tri-dimensional chess. Yet, the sense of hurt and betrayal is still palpable. To Hutch, this may not be that big a deal. CC almost always sees the bigger picture. 

Thanks for this comment. And it seems to me like the stakes for Corbin keep getting higher and higher. They’ve tried him before but now they are are physically trying him. Glad you have confidence in him. Like, love, or hate I’d say watching him work through things, and as you said as readers knowing he’s capable of feeling pain, is interesting to me. 

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