all she does is complain, complain

“You must know, Miss Kowalski, that you cannot go around assaulting people.”

“He assaulted me! He thought he was pulling a prank. That stupid machine made me come and come and come. I thought I was going to lose my mind. It was agony.” With a twist of her head she tries to shake away the memory. Her toes flex and her nipples jiggle to and fro. “Thank God Hank heard me and ran over to turn it off.” Hank is the school custodian.

Principal Chones reads Hank’s note. “The readout was twenty-six orgasms? Remarkable.” Like most men, he is capable of only one orgasm. He shifts in his suit and can’t avoid feeling envious.

The naked young victim, of course, has a different perspective. “Not so remarkable if you’re the one suffering through them.” Now in a rare moment of vulnerability she lowers her voice. “I tried to get used to them, but each one . . . Afterwards I couldn’t stop crying. And I had to be back home.” Indeed neighbors noticed the unusual sight of Patty Kowalski apparently in tears, staggering along the broken sidewalk on Fourteenth Street as if the bookbag on her back weighed half a ton.

“Still -- you can’t take the law into your own hands. You have to file a complaint.” He means with the school. They both know that filing charges with the police is not an option. Possibly Kevin knew that too. The publicity would cause the University to pull the plug on the project, and Patty would lose one of her paychecks.

“F**k those complaints. I want him punished. Do I have to go to Dornberger again?” Charles Dornberger, Ph.D., is the Superintendent of Schools. “And another thing, that butt dick is too big.”

“The proper term is ‘insertion detector’.”

“Whatever. It keeps slipping into my -- ” Is there a trace of embarrassment here? -- “my -- colon.”

“From what I understand, young lady, the use of your lower digestive tract affords you a tidy income.”

“That’s none of your f**king business. Anyway, it’s supposed to be only six inches. We measured it after art class with Stacy’s ruler. It’s seven and a half.”

“I didn’t know you were so familiar with the apparatus specs. That’s a big booklet they gave us.”

“It’s on page 134. Fifteen centimeters, which is five point nine inches.”

Principal Chones shrugs. “It is what it is. We can’t question the judgment of Dr. Posen who wrote the book.”

“If only she knew what it’s like, having a baseball bat up my butt and being double f**ked for half an hour. And in the middle of the f**king lobby!”

“It’s the only place big enough for the antennas. We’ve been over that.”

“I should get paid more.”

“I’m sure you know the grant money has been strictly apportioned.”

“Or maybe I can go to the police.”

Patty wins again. She’s raised from $60 to $100 per session, with the rest coming from the school’s “discretionary fund”. It’s just a drop in the bucket for the school, which is using the matching funds to finally redo the swimming pool. Patty is a very good swimmer, though the reason she always wins the sprints is probably because the other girls wear swimsuits which create drag and restrict movement.