The president of the college was a weird old duck named William Lowell and along with the rest of the directors of the small school kept pretty much to himself. Things were very quiet at Craven. That's what made the anonymous caller's charges all the more outrageous, for if what he said was true, the quiet belied a rotten core and a perverted undercurrent. Why, how could it be so? Dean Lowell was a pillar of the community. He was not only connected with Craven but also sat on the Board of Education and held various other honorary titles from the Chamber of Commerce and other business clubs. The school enjoyed a good reputation and many a graduate at Smith and Radcliffe had come from Craven.

The caller had spared the chaplain no detail and Reverend Corman wondered if the whole scenario was not just some plot from a pornographic movie the man on the phone had seen. The man had said that there were things going on after hours in the old School Board building. Bad things. Perverted things, involving members of the Board of Education and young female students from Craven. The man said that almost every night, young girls some not even in their teens were getting fucked while some of the old men participated and some just contented themselves watching. Dear heaven, to think that children, some even younger than his own thirteen year old daughter, Janice, were, according to his source, sucking cock like popsicles and getting their own cunts eaten by dirty old men!

The concerned minister put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, tipping it up on the two back legs. God, what a business. He would have to expose this dreaded business for the sake of his wife and daughter.

His daughter. He felt a little twinge of pride at the thought of his daughter.