No one was happy to see Jennifer.
Which, to an outsider, might have seemed surprising.
With her thick, black hair, flawless alabaster skin,
full red lips and slender, athletic despite-the-fact-I-
never-lower-myself-to-exercise body, Jennifer Watson was
one of the most desirable girls on campus. At least as
far as looks went. And the male students of the Phi Phi
Phi fraternity were certainly just about as appreciative
of good looking women as one would expect them to be.
Even more so.
This particular good looking woman, however, was the
president and head agitator of the local chapter of
Concerned Students for Political Correctness. In her
second year at Bakersville College North, she had been
instrumental in the college's decision to withdraw
funding from the fraternity newsletter as a result of
certain allegedly sexist comments.
She had later caused the fraternity's sponsoring
professor to be suspended indefinitely because of some
unsubstantiated allegations regarding sexual proposals
he had made to a female student (who had, incidentally,
received a failing grade just prior to the accusations).
All things considered, Jennifer Watson had been a thorn
in the side of the fraternity during her four years at
BCN.
Her most recent success, however, topped them all. She
had been working for years now to get the PPP's annual
"Slave Auction" cancelled. Each year, the PPP fraternity
and some of the girl's from one of the sorority houses
on campus held a mock Slave Auction to raise money for
improvements to their facilities. For the last few
years, they had been raising money to add an indoor pool
to the fraternity house.
Not only had Jennifer spearheaded the successful drive
to cancel the Slave Auction (due to the fact that it
"trivialized the experiences of visible minorities who
had suffered slavery in the past and mocked the state of
women everywhere, whose present existence was little
better than slavery at the hands of the male oriented
hierarchical society"), but she had convinced the
college to expropriate the money raised over the last
few years and put it towards the commission of a piece
of modern sculpture celebrating Sisterhood in the
twentieth century.
So, when Jennifer showed up at the door of the PPP
fraternity house where the members of the fraternity who
had been planning the event were gathered for a drunken
'wake' - a so-called 'pool party' - no one was
particularly pleased to see her.
It was the guy who opened the door, one Mark Spenser,
who - despite not usually being a particularly
articulate individual - voiced the feelings of the
entire group: "What the fuck are you doing here?"
Jennifer just smirked. She had been out for a couple of
drinks with some friends earlier that evening and had
been on her way to the airport (it was spring break, and
she had arranged to get away by herself for a while)
when she had decided to drop by the frat house to see
how they were taking the news. In fact, she was a little
drunk.
"Just stopping by to say goodbye," she explained,
slurring her words a bit. "Wanted to make certain that
there were no hard feelings."
"No hard feelings?" Mark was incredulous. "Fuck that.
You came here to rub it in more like it."
Jennifer's eyes widened in mock surprise. She *loved*
this! "Not at all," she protested, trying not to laugh.
These guys were soooooo stupid. "I did it for your
benefit too. It's an important lesson to learn, but..."
Mark had heard enough. "Why don't you just..."
"Hold on a moment." Mark was cut off by a quiet, intense
voice. "She's right." Amazed, Mark turned to confront
the person behind him. It was...
"Gary?" A freshman at BCN and an applicant to join the
fraternity. What was...
"Just a second, Mark." The speaker, a tall geeky looking
guy with short black hair and glasses approached and
placed his hand on Mark's shoulder. "Jennifer here has a
point." The entire room had fallen silent. Even Jennifer
was astounded. Was this guy making fun of her? "What we
were doing was insensitive," Gary explained. "It was
wrong. And I think that we should thank Jennifer for
pointing it out to us."
He turned. "Sharon," he called out, "get Jennifer here a
drink." He turned back to the girl who stood, silent and
staring in the doorway. "Beer OK?"
Jennifer nodded a puzzled assent, still unsure as to
whether or not this guy was making fun of her.
"A beer," Gary called out. Mark started to say
something, but Gary ignored him. "Come in," he invited
Jennifer. "Let us make up for some of the harsh words
that've passed between our organizations."
In her partially drunken state, Jennifer actually
believed him. She entered the room. Gary closed the door
behind her and Mark stomped off. The music started up
again, and Sharon - a short, pudgy girl with pig eyes,
Jennifer noticed, conscious as always of her own beauty
- returned a few moments later with a glass of beer.
Jennifer accepted it without thanks and took a sip.
Gary sat her down on the couch as the 'pool party'
started up again around them. He began talking to her
about the Slave Auction and generally engaged her in
conversation while she finished the beer and then
another, also brought by Sharon. After a while, she
began to feel a queer sort of disassociation, almost as
if her mind was floating free from her body. The room
was getting warmer and warmer; the music drifted away...
Jennifer felt a warm, pleasurable sensation on her
chest. She looked down to see that her breasts were
fully exposed; her blouse had somehow come open and her
bra unfastened.
"G-Gary?" What was... but when she looked up, it was
Mark sitting in front of her, playing with her breasts.
Panicked, she brought her hands up to stop him, but she
seemed to be completely lacking in strength.