The Reluctant Lecher

The Reluctant Lecher-01

The Reluctant Lecher-01

Word count: 1954

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         Back in my apartment after another late night at the computer lab, I felt the need for a nice cold brew after the exhaustive work on our internet project. Being a graduate student at this university brought with it some very stringent research requirements, and I still found myself almost devoid of anything resembling a social life.

         Popping the top of an ice-cold import, I dropped into my overstuffed chair and reflected on the circumstances that had brought me to this particular place and time, and why all these academic sacrifices had finally become worth it. Taking a long pull on the bottle, I sent my mind back to some fairly harmless puttering on the internet and on the accidental eavesdropping on campus webcams that changed some aspects of my social life during this time.

         Some folks might call me a peeping tom, voyeur, blackmailer, or even worse for what I ended up doing, but I saw myself as a somewhat reluctant opportunist. As things ended up, the line between victim and victimizer became almost indiscernible. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

         During my lab research into online communications, I devised a little utility program I called “The Hook.” Its purpose was simply to detect unsecured multimedia transmissions and display them on my monitor so they could be identified. Although simple enough in concept, it was really tricky to program correctly.

         Theoretically, once identified, the unprotected transmission could be shielded remotely, and security could be assured from prying eyes. Of course, this was intended to keep the IT Departments files and transmissions safe.

         My complications began when I decided to take the program home and install it on my personal computer system, just to see if the program would also be effective on the entire campus network. Of course, it did occur to me that all the student body, as well as the staff, had .edu accounts and would be using them for personal communication, but I convinced myself that my experiment was “all in the name of Science,” and that I could remain an objective observer.

         As it turned out, the program worked, and all too well! I discovered there were more unprotected accounts online throughout the .edu system than I expected, and my program was quickly overwhelmed with hits. I had to spend quite a bit of time applying filters to the program to eliminate the vast majority of sensitive communications, including e-mail correspondence and music transmissions. That left video transmissions, which I thought would not only be more interesting but also less incriminating.

         Since I had turned off the sound portion of the video reception to save bandwidth and I couldn’t read lips, the images I managed to capture were essentially mute “talking heads.” Every morning, I spent some of my idle time browsing through the collection that I’d captured during the night. Pretty boring crap for the most part.

         Then it happened. One morning I spotted a video clip, apparently captured from one of the coed dorm rooms, that fired up my interest a bit more. “All in the name of Science” of course. I carefully identified the source and the account to which it was connected. It just happened to be another coed dorm room in the same complex, and it looked as though the ladies there were highly intoxicated and trying very hard to gross out some people by removing their clothing and rudely displaying various body features to the others over the webcam.

         I was only sorry I hadn’t popped some popcorn for the show, because it lasted quite some time, at least until everyone in the respective rooms had an opportunity to participate.

         Seeing all those naked ladies, displaying all their charms over the ‘net provided me with more masturbation material over the next several nights than I’d had since I was at the university.

         Since these were apparently upperclassman dorms or, more correctly upperclasswoman dorms, they had enough sense not to expose their faces, just in case someone in any of the rooms would be able to recognize them. I put an electronic tag on these accounts for future observation. “All in the name of Science,” of course.

         Over the next several weeks, I noticed this little sorority craze had swept the campuses, and more and more unshielded webcam accounts were exchanging video clips of students exposing themselves to each other over the ‘net.

         Soon, I was cataloging files full of nude female torsos and, even as benign as most of the videos were, I found I was being kept in a constant state of sexual arousal while at home reviewing the “catch” of the previous nights. Occasionally a clip would cross the line of “Art” and get a bit pornographic, with both boyfriends and occasionally, girlfriends.

         Now, I’m sure that some of these videos were meant to become archival, that is, stored on the machine where they were made, but the unshielded nature of the transmissions made them available to my Hook program. Some of the more erotic “productions” did display the faces of the participants, but the fact that they were “attached” in some way begged privacy, and I left them alone to their own video fantasies.

         On the other hand, the other nameless, faceless videos begged inquiry. Just the mystery of to whom the beautiful torsos belonged was enough to keep me collecting these delightfully erotic displays.

         I finally got the chance! One morning, while I was reviewing the previous night’s “catch,” I caught the image of the person who would change my life. During one of the common “sorority dare” scenarios, one of the new sisters bent over to adjust the webcam and, in so doing, pointed it directly at her face. Flush in alcoholic gaiety, she then displayed herself into the camera’s lens to the benefit of the audience, another sorority, who would be witness to the completion of the dare. Finally, I felt like an eavesdropper, as if I shouldn’t be here watching this, but I couldn’t get her picture out of my mind. She was gorgeous!

         For the next couple of weeks, I ran and re-ran that video clip over and over, before slinking off to my shower or bed to shake the juice out of my balls. She was becoming an obsession of sorts, and I became determined to find out what I could about her. Ah, a small mystery, I thought, but a diversion worth chasing. I was off to the records office one morning, and things began to become much more interesting.

         As a graduate student, I was responsible for subbing for my professors in teaching classes on an occasional basis, so I had access to student records to facilitate this whenever needed. What I needed now, of course, was a name to associate to the face in the video. I’d seen her on campus before, but when and where I couldn’t recollect so, over the next few days, I took my lab breaks to coincide with the between class periods, when students were making their way back and forth to classes.

         It took two days, but I finally discovered her coming out of the Arts Building with an armload of books and flanked by a couple of her classmates. Just as beautiful as I remembered her in the video, I decided and, as discretely as I could, I found out her name and the dorm area in which she resided. Taking my information back to the Administrative office, I made a couple of interesting discoveries in her file. Her name was Laura Wilson, late of a large farm in northern Montana, an only child and, more surprisingly, a valedictorian of her graduating high school class. Curiously, the space on her college application representing hobbies was empty. I’d have expected cheerleading, or some such nonsense.

         As I glanced over her current class load, it became apparent that she was a freshman, here for the first time and, amazingly enough, she was enrolled in a basic computer class, probably the only one I hadn’t been called upon to teach yet this year. Not surprisingly, I hadn’t put my name on the sub list for that class; few do, as it is considered one of the more boring IT classes to teach. However, out of curiosity more than anything else, I did put my name on the list. Mine was the only one there.

         In the two weeks that followed, I made careful note to have the webcam on those accounts scanned each night, and a record saved of any transmissions. On the Saturday night ending the second week, I saw that the gals were up to another little game of “I dare you” on the webcam, this time displaying themselves to some upperclasswomen in an adjoining dorm room.

         I guessed there were four of the underclasswomen putting themselves on display. Since I couldn’t see any faces, the differences in their body types were all I had to base that guess on although, I had to admit, they pretty much ran the range of beautiful and sexy, from the slim one through the rather plump one.

         After days of masturbating to the vision of Laura’s unintentional exposure on that first video, I recognized her body immediately, and instantly my cock rose to attention, as if seeing an old friend. The reason for the bawdiness of their display was fairly evident. Several empty wine bottles were strewn around the floor in the background of the chair in front of the webcam and, occasionally, the girl on display would appear with a bottle clutched tightly in her hand. This meant some very creative poses for the webcam, bordering on the gynecological or even proctologic!

         Why they’d be displaying themselves this way was a mystery to me, but all sorority or fraternity initiation rites were pretty much mindless stuff. In this case I wasn’t complaining. Note to self: Wine obviously IS a great ice-breaker!

         On Laura’s part, I could recognize her pussy simply by the way she trimmed her bush and the fact that it was the same brunette color as the hair on her head. Two of her roommates shaved theirs altogether, and the other one didn’t shave or trim at all. At least that’s the way it seemed; she had hair growing down the tops of her thighs and around her little brown asshole.

         Each one of them had knelt before the webcam facing away from the lens, reached behind themselves, grabbed their ass cheeks and spread’em wide! I really felt I knew these girls well that evening, much better than they knew me. After a turn by each sitting before the camera, this time forward, face hidden, reaching up to tweak their nipples until they became rigid for the onlookers, the show went dark for the night.

         Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep that night, nor the next couple. I figured if I kept up my little nocturnal video review sessions, I’d wear the “little guy” out altogether, so I had to figure out what to do with the information that I had, and soon. All kinds of scenarios came to mind, from the profane to the obscene, but all these little adolescent fantasies were more complicated to carry out than I had the expertise or talent for.

         I finally decided to simply show Laura what she was displaying to the unrestricted world out there. Of course, I had a special access to that online account, but she didn’t know that, nor did I want her to. I was hoping that, worst case, she’d just be willing to thank me for it.

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"The Reluctant Lecher-02" 

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