“Dude, you should have seen what happened in the hall outside the chemistry lab.” There was a high school close to the Taco Bell, and the table behind me was obviously occupied by adolescents.

“What happened?”

“Grant dropped a quarter on the floor, and this dweeby little freshman bent over to pick it up.”

“So?”

“So Grant came up between his legs and grabbed his sack.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah. He dug his fingers in and the little turd dropped right there and hit his head on the floor hard enough to break his glasses. For about a minute Grant Totally Owned him!”

I felt the bile rise in my throat and I lost my appetite just as surely as if a cockroach had crawled out of my burrito, and I thought back to when I had been totally owned.

It was1973 and I spent spring break just as I had spent the last Christmas; holed up in my fifth floor dorm room in Randolph Residence Hall. Uncle Walt was financing my education, and he had gone through college without benefit of a social life and evidently felt that I should do the same. He paid my tuition, which included room and board, and also gave me money for ‘necessary’ expenses, like books and such but I was completely on my own as far as scrounging a few bucks for entertainment or dating. Mom was in between husbands at the time and couldn’t spare me a dime, and what little money I had earned during the summer was just about long gone, meaning that I was stuck at the dorm for spring vacation.

My roomie had gone home for the week and Brett, the guy with the magnificent, albeit fake, set of nuts had flunked out last term, and I was the only guy on the hall for the whole week. There were a few guys from the other halls and floors but the kitchen was also shut down so we had to go to one of the other dorms to eat. I was doing just that one day when a chick that I’d seen around sat down beside me.

“Stuck here too, huh?” She asked.

“You know how it is. No bucks, no fun.” I lamented.

“Yeah. Bummer.” We sat there and talked, and before too long it was apparent that she had the same kind of itch that I had, and that all we really needed was some private place to scratch them. You could chat with a date in the common area on the first floor, and you could usually get away with a quick goodnight kiss, but necking or any outward display of passion was forbidden.

“You want to come up to my room? Fifth floor Randolph.” I volunteered, “I have some hard stuff stashed away.” The Crown Royal actually belonged to my roommate, but he would have willingly donated it for the purpose of me getting laid.

“What about your RA,” she asked, referring to the Resident Advisor.

“Mine’s gone, and the only one around is on the second floor. We can duck him without any problem.” I was hot to trot and willing to take a chance.

The RAs were all seniors or grad students, and they were supposed to be like kindly uncles or big brothers, guys that would guide and mentor poor helpless freshmen and keep them pointed in the right direction. The handbook encouraged us to seek their advice and guidance whenever we felt the need. If, for instance, your roomie was a slob or his masturbation kept you awake all night the RA would take him aside and give him some counseling on dorm room etiquette, and the RA was quick to point out that your music was too loud or that you’d failed to wear a towel or skivvies over your bare ass on the way to shower. In reality they were just like cops: Dorky control freaks with no social life who got their rocks off by bossing other people around. There were two per floor and they prowled their two halls on tiptoe, sniffing for the odor of contraband alcohol or pot, and listening for the incriminating clink of glassware or a forbidden feminine moan or giggle. They had passkeys and were empowered to enter rooms and check things out. In exchange for being finks they got free room and board.

Nudity, loud music, yelling in the hallways or other nuisances against the public were treated as misdemeanors and got you a reprimand, and if you got enough of them you would have to talk to the Dean or some person of real authority. Consumption or possession of alcohol or drugs anywhere in the dorm, or the presence of a person of the opposite sex anywhere but on the first floor was regarded as a felony, two of which would result in automatic suspension for the rest of the school year. The RA on our hall wasn’t too bad; he’d knock on the door and tell you to turn the volume down or ask to enter your room. One guy on the second floor had a reputation of sneaking up and busting into rooms with his passkey hoping to catch a guy in some illicit act.

I sent her around to the service entrance by the kitchen, then went into the dorm and scoped things out. The commons area was deserted, and the RA seemed to be holed up in his room, so I let her in and led her quietly up the stairs to my fifth floor room. She fumbled around in her pockets and produced a baggie of grass and some rolling papers, and I poured each of us a Dixie cup of Crown Royal, then we got down to business. In addition to borrowing my roomie’s booze I also purloined his bunk; he had the lower one with slightly more headroom. I was horny as hell and was hard as soon as I unbuttoned my jeans, but I had jacked off that same morning so I knew I wouldn’t pop too soon. I raided my rapidly depleting supply of Trojans. I had bought a dozen in September, hoping they’d last at least a month, but my roomie had bummed a couple and by now I was down to ten. I rolled one on was two seconds and two inches away from the target when the door flew open.

“What the fuck do you think your doing?” The RA shouted, although the dumb ass could have figure it out if he worked on it a while. “You get dressed an get the fuck out of here!” He told the girl, then watched hungrily as she slid into her panties. I got up to retrieve my skivvies. “Sit down and don’t move until I tell you!” He was older and larger and I didn’t seem to be in a position to argue, so I sat on the edge of the bunk and watched the condom shrink as my dick got soft.

The RA picked up the joint, and pocketed it, then smelled the contents of the Dixie cups. Are you Miller or Abbott? Both occupants’ names were on the outside of the door.

“Abbot.”

“I can have your ass kicked out of here just like that, Abbot.” he said, snapping his fingers, “and every other state school honors our suspensions, so you’re shit out of luck.”

He was right, of course, and it would be the end of my college career. Uncle Walt insisted on seeing my grades and he’d know immediately that I’d gotten my ass booted out of school and he’d cut me off short. .

“Or,” the RA continued, “we could work this out between us. Nobody would have to know about you or the bitch, whoever she is.”

“What do you want?” I grasped at the life ring he’d tossed. It was my last chance. I wasn’t smart enough to merit a scholarship and nobody gets a second chance with Uncle Walt.

“I own you, totally, for the rest of the week,” he said, and before I could question or even digest it he continued, “stand up and get dressed.

“Okay,” I answered, then bent over to get my skivvies. A sudden shock went through my whole body as he shot his hand up between my legs and grabbed my balls from behind.

“Down on the floor, Boy, bend over the bed!” His already debilitating grip tightened even more when I hesitated, and my knees suddenly buckled as I collapsed. It was over in less than five minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. He finally left after telling me to report to his room the next evening at nine. I was still wearing the Trojan, and it now bulged with my goop. He’d literally fucked the snot out of me.

Nothing I have ever done has hurt me as much or has been so debasing, but I was so desperate for an education that I accepted him three more times, twice in the ass and once orally before the week was over, and he’d also taken me in his mouth each time. I never saw the girl again, but then I didn’t really go looking either. I don’t think I could have gotten it up for her anyway.

I was happy as hell to see the arrival of June and the end of the school year. I’d have to work my ass off all summer to save enough for next year, but my grades were okay and my financing secure. The RA didn’t fare as well. He turned up missing during finals week, and it wasn’t until they checked his room that they found him. He was tied hand and foot to the bed and had a gag in his mouth. He was pretty bad off but still alive. A laboratory jar of formalin sat on the dresser, and in it floated his nuts.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but I wasn’t involved; a thorough investigation tied two freshmen from the second floor to the dastardly deed. Another four had sufficient motive but weren’t involved. I didn’t speak up.