2 comments/ 39996 views/ 18 favorites Stuck-Up Bitch By: JimGrinsted Chapter One Anna graduated from Horace College nine years ago. During her junior year she had a work-study job in the President's Office. It was the usual stuff-filing, copying, fielding phone calls, etc. One day college president Earl Heppner gave her a stack of papers to copy. Being a naturally curious young lady, she made sure to look at everything she copied or filed. Mostly it was really boring stuff-all the juicy personnel papers were given to the full-time staff to deal with. But on this day, along with a big pile to copy, were four or five pages of neatly printed, hand-written accounts. Anna had no idea what it was about, but she had the presence of mind to make an extra copy for herself to peruse at her leisure. She took it home that night and couldn't make head or tail of it. She considered asking one of her girlfriends-an accounting major-but thought better of it. Good thing, too, because even though it took her a week to figure it out, this was news she had to keep to herself. Anna was a very systematic person, even then. So she wrote out long hand exactly what case she had against President Heppner. Along the way she checked and double checked all her facts and inferences, to make sure she hadn't made a mistake. The stakes were very high-if she was wrong it would ruin her career. Apparently Dr. Heppner owed $25,000 to somebody named "Bob". Bob had agreed to accept payment in installments over a year, with $3,000 due each month-the extra being vigorish. So the President had set up a Capital Improvement Fund, unusual only in the sense that he alone could sign checks drawn on that account (most accounts needed at least two signatures). And so every month he had $4,000 deposited into the account from the College's general fund, and then he withdrew $3,000 to pay off Bob. He carefully cooked the books so that the Accounting Office would never know. What Anna had in front of her were copies of both sets of books for the Capital Improvement Fund-the cooked and uncooked records. Understandably, Dr. Heppner had been as laborious and careful in putting that together as Anna had been in deciphering it. The following week she make an appointment to see Dr. Heppner. She brought copies of the accounts with her, leaving her long hand narrative at home. "I have something I think you'd be interested in seeing." She handed the papers across the desk. Dr. Heppner glanced quickly, and then did a longer double take. His face turned ashen. "Where did you get this?" "It doesn't matter where I got it. I have it now." "Well, I'm glad you brought this back to me. Thank you very much. Is there anything I can offer you by way of reward?" He pulled a $20 bill out of his wallet. "I kept a copy for myself. I thought I might give it to the police." Dr. Heppner shrank back in his chair. "What do you want from me?" he finally stammered. "Five hundred dollars a month, every month, in cash. Schedule me with your secretary for the first of every month, and I'll come to your office to pick up the money." She paused. "But you owe me the first installment tomorrow." She'd kept in touch with Earl (as she now calls him) even after she graduated. She knew enough about academia to know that not even the President can make personnel decisions. Those always went through committees-search committees for hiring, and campus committees for tenure. Still, Earl could put a thumb on the scales-she expected him to do no less. After she finished grad school, she applied for and got a job as an assistant professor of English and women's studies at Horace College. That made it easier to collect her monthly payment. Chapter Two Anna Greten and Mary Jean Peprin walked slowly across the main quad. It was a beautiful day in early May, a few weeks before the Summer break. Coeds were sunbathing, while the relatively few guys were playing frisbee. Anna, still an untenured assistant professor, had just gotten word that her book had been accepted for publication-the one she hoped would earn her tenure. Titled 'Defeating the Male Gaze', oddly enough it was a fashion book. It concerned the effort to stop men from regarding women as sex objects and to cease looking at them lustfully. A long book-at over 600 pages it included extensive notes. Anna didn't realize that her thesis could be reduced to a single page, or even to a single sentence: "Dress like an old lady." Either that, or wear a burqa. Her companion, older than Anna, already had tenure. Indeed, she was on the Promotion & Tenure Committee, the body that'd decide Anna's fate in a few years. Mary Jean was the driving force behind the campus' 'anti-masculinism' effort-a serious attempt to destroy male privilege and insist that men behave like women. All the rage at Horace College-any disagreement got you pilloried, or even fired. Mary Jean was probably on 45 or so, but looked older. She certainly didn't have to worry about the male gaze-'ugly bitch' is the way they'd probably describe her. She wore no jewelry or make-up-the bright sun illuminated every wrinkle. Her hair was streaked with gray. A loose blouse covered those sagging, amorphous blobs of flesh otherwise known as breasts. And fortunately, the ankle-length skirt hid every inch of fatty thigh and varicose calf. Anna was secretly grateful she didn't look like that. She worked out at home-only for the sake of health she told herself and others, but it certainly didn't hurt her appearance. And being more than a decade younger she still passed as a young woman. Her hair showed her native brunette-she plucked the occasional gray strands. In a few years graying would be obvious, and anti-masculinist ideology frowned on artificial color-that just encouraged them. Like Mary Jean, she dressed frumpily, with clothes that would look good on an eighty-year-old. Coming towards them Anna saw Todd Travers. He'd started working at Horace the same year as Anna, and taught criminology in the pre-law program. He was all sweaty, dressed in sports clothes and soccer cleats. "Where's the suit and tie?" greeted Mary Jean, sternly. In the classroom Dr. Travers was nattily dressed. It suited his six-foot, athletic frame. "I was out playing soccer with the guys," laughed Todd. "Hard to play soccer in suit." "Soccer? Isn't that a bit...competitive?" complained Anna. "We don't keep score," he said, probably lying. "Besides, there aren't very many sports for guys on this campus. So we've organized our own soccer league. Just three teams, but it's a start." The only varsity sports for men at Horace were table tennis and ballroom dancing. Those met the anti-masculinist criteria, though that was always disputed. "I think soccer is too competitive," repeated Anna. "And also, we should only have sports where men and women can play on the same team. Otherwise it promotes male privilege." "Where are you women headed?" asked Todd, desperately trying to change the subject. He carefully avoided using masculinist terms such as "ladies" or "girls." Mary Jean answered. "Anna just got her book accepted for publication. We're going out for a beer to celebrate. Would you like to come along?" "No thanks," he said, with a momentary grimace. "I have to take a shower, and then I've got a ton of papers to grade. But congratulations." Anna couldn't let it go. "We were thinking of replacing table tennis with flower arranging. What do you think of that?" "Flower arranging? Is that a sport?" And for guys?" "They'd have to go out and collect wildflowers, and within a specified time. So it requires athletic skill. And it teaches young men sensitivity and aesthetics." "It's probably bad for the environment," answered Todd, scrounging around for any excuse. "Hey, look, I gotta go. I'll see you around. And congrats again on your book." "Don't forget that you're scheduled to serve tea and cookies at tomorrow's faculty meeting," Anna yelled after him. As they approached Winthrop Hall, the administration building where Earl's office was, Anna became more and more nervous. "I have a quick errand to run before we go," she told her companion. "Can you give me fifteen minutes?" Anna was anxious for good reason. About a year ago, the folder containing Earl's accounts and her longhand notes had gone missing. She had turned her apartment upside down looking for it, but to no avail. So far it hadn't made any difference-Earl still produced the $500 on schedule. But if she ever had to make good on her threat to go to the cops, it'd be harder to do so. "I'm here to see Dr. Heppner," she told the secretary. "He's expecting you. Go right in." She walked through the door without knocking. "Hi Earl. How are you today?" "Here's your money Dr. Greten," and he handed her a wad of bills. He turned back to his computer to continue working. "We need to talk for a minute." "What?" "This is good enough for this month. But beginning next month, you owe me a grand. Inflation and all, you understand. I haven't raised the rent in over ten years." "You're joking," he said, in shock. "No, I'm not joking." "How am I supposed to come up with a thousand dollars a month?" "I don't know. That's your problem. But you're president, so you've got plenty of money." She turned toward the door. "I'll see you next month." Chapter Three Summer passed profitably. Earl produced the thousand dollar payments on schedule for June, July and August. He wasn't happy and complained that his daughter was going to have to drop out of college. But that wasn't Anna's problem. He should've thought ahead. By September 1st school had already been in session for a week. Anna stopped by Earl's office for her appointment. All she needed to do was to pick up her money-shouldn't take more than a minute. "Hi Earl," she said as she walked through the door, before noticing that nobody sat behind the desk. Looking around, she saw Earl sitting at the conference table. Next to him was Todd Travers. "Hi Todd", she said, surprised. "I wasn't expecting to see you here. ... I can come back later. I'm sorry to interrupt." "No, no," said Dr. Heppner. "I invited Professor Travers to join us. Please have a seat." Anna very nervously sat down. "Have you ever seen this book?" Dr. Travers asked. He passed a thick, yellow, hardbound tome across the table. The title was 'Masculinism and its Discontents', edited by Mary Jean Peprin and David Peprin. David Peprin, nee Quinn, was Mary Jean's husband. In a display of anti-masculinism he'd taken his wife's name when they married. He was a professor of economics. Anna picked up the book. "Yes, of course I know this book." She paused. "Hey, this is my copy! It even has my name written inside the front cover. Where'd you get this?" "I bought it at a garage sale. I noticed your name and I bought it to return it if you. Do you want it back?" "Thanks, Todd. Yeah, I would like it back." She put the book in her bag. "My name is Professor Travers, Anna. More interesting than the book is what I found inside of it." He took a few sheets of paper out his folder and handed those to her. "Those are copies, of course. I kept the originals." Anna looked at the papers. Her hands started shaking. They were all of Earl's old accounts, and worse, it included her long hand narrative. "Well, I guess you don't owe me any more money, Earl," she stammered. "We can consider the debt wiped clean. I hope it hasn't been too much of an inconvenience for you." "You've been blackmailing Dr. Heppner for nearly ten years. And you expect him to let it go with just an apology?" "I was just a young kid then." She started sweating. "I needed the money for grad school. You saved me from taking out student loans, so you definitely did a good deed." She paused, and then looking Dr. Heppner straight in the eye, she begged "Earl, please forgive me. I didn't mean any harm by it. I can probably pay you back eventually." "My name is Dr. Heppner," he replied, sternly. "I think we own you, Lady," said Dr. Travers. "You owe Dr. Heppner big time. And me, too, for all the bullshit you put me through." "You have nothing on me. After all, if you turn me in, then Earl has to confess to his crime as well. So we'd both go down." "Not true, Missy," explained Todd. "The statute of limitations has long since lapsed on Dr. Heppner's theft. But you're looking at 20 years for blackmail, minimum." "Besides," said Dr. Heppner, "I long since paid back my debt to the campus-with interest. Thanks to you, Little Bitch, it took me a lot longer than it should have." "Mind your language, Dr. Heppner," warned Travers. "It's not time for that." "Todd, what do you want from me? I don't have a lot of money. Please, have mercy on me. What are you trying to do? Ruin me?" She started crying. "We're not going to ruin you. But for the next ten years or so we are definitely going to profit from you." Anna now bawled uncontrollably. Earl got up to fetch some tissues from his desk. "Pull yourself together, Sweetie," Todd said sharply. "We have some things we need to go over." She continued crying as if she hadn't heard him. "Sit up straight and pay attention," he shouted. She raised her head and looked at him fearfully. "First you have to get our names right. My name is Dr. Travers, or Professor Travers. You will never call me anything else. Do you understand?" "Yes," she whimpered, softly. "That's not good enough. Whenever you speak to us directly, you address us as 'Sir.' So answer again, correctly." "Yes Sir." It was barely audible. "Say it again, loud enough so I can hear it." "Yes Sir." "And my colleague's name is Dr. Heppner or President Heppner. You will never call him anything else." She was silent. "How do you answer me?" "Yes Sir." She felt completely deflated. "For ten years you have insulted Dr. Heppner by using a disrespectful name. You will now apologize to him. Refer to him by the proper name, and make sure you address him as 'Sir.' " After a few failed efforts she finally got it right. She said loudly and clearly, looking him in the eye, "Dr. Heppner, I apologize to you for not being respectful for the past ten years, and not calling you by your proper name, Sir." "Apology noted," Earl responded. "And what can we call you?" Todd asked. "Dr. Greten, I suppose," she offered, hopefully. "Sir," she remembered at the last minute. "Good. You're catching on. We could call you 'Dr. Greten' I suppose, but I doubt we ever will. If we use your name it'll be 'Anna'. Or we might call you honey, sweetie, dearie, girlie, lady, baby, cutie, little girl, or even woman. Hell, we can call you anything we want. And no matter how we address you, you answer 'Sir.' Understood?" "Yes Sir. But why do you have to use such sexist names?" Then she thought of the insulting names he didn't mention. She was grateful for that, at least. "Those names aren't sexist. They're sexy. We might use sexist names later, but not now." Todd looked at the notes he'd scribbled. "So we're not going to ask you to start paying Earl back right away. We know you don't have a lot of money, and you're going to have to cover the expenses for what we'll be asking you to do. But today you've called me 'Todd' three times, and you addressed Dr. Heppner as 'Earl' four times. I should also count how many time you failed to say 'Sir', but we'll let that go. The fine for disrespectful language is $50 per offense. So you owe Dr. Heppner $350, payable by next Thursday." Anna's stomach sank. "I don't have that kind of money right now." "You didn't address me as 'Sir,' Todd said irritatedly. "That's another $50. You owe $400 by Thursday." "How can you not have the money since I just gave you $3,000 over the summer?" Earl asked. "I used it for the down payment on a new car, Sir." "I suggest you sell the car. You're going to need some money," Todd said. "It's best if you pay us by Thursday. Otherwise it's payable at $50 per week for ten weeks. Those are the terms. Either way, your first payment is due on Thursday. And don't mess with us. It won't go well for you. Remember, you're looking at twenty years." "And you won't get tenure, either," Earl added with a smile. "Moving on, we need to see what we've got to work with. Could you please stand up over there." Anna got up and stood where he indicated-about 10 feet in front of them. "Lift up your skirt." "What?" "He told you to lift up your skirt. And please address us respectfully-you're marching close to the edge, Young Lady." Anna tentatively raised her skirt. Maybe her knees showed. "We need to see your underwear," Earl said as kindly as possible. "Please try again." Anna's face felt red hot. Her embarrassment embarrassed her more than the skirt-raising. She grabbed the hem to cover her eyes. Still, she felt the male gaze sizing her up like a side of beef. "You work out, don't you?" asked Earl. "Yes Sir," came the muffled reply. "Good. Keep that up. But I don't like your underwear. You'll have to replace that with something sexier." "And cleaner," added Todd. "It looks like your grooming isn't that good. That's got to change. And you need to shave your legs." "But the raw material is there. She's a good looking woman." "I think you're right. I'm getting a hard-on just looking at her." "Turn around," said Earl. "We need to see your bottom." Anna turned around and lifted the skirt over her head. It was easier when she didn't have to face them. "Please bend over." The hot blush of humiliation returned. She didn't have anything to lean against, so she hoped they'd be happy with a Japanese bow. "How often do you change your underwear?" Earl asked. "Every two or three days, Sir." "You need to change every day. And you need to wash your bottom. We will be checking that." "There are fines for improper grooming," Todd added. "We will drive you into absolute poverty if you don't cooperate with us." "You can be seated again." She breathed a sigh of relief. They weren't going to rape her. At least not yet. Earl continued with the instructions. "Our goal for this semester is to turn you into an attractive young lady. We are not going to let you dress like an old hag anymore. We expect you to buy what clothes you need. You can select what you want, but at the end of the day we need to approve. You will be meeting with us every Thursday at 9am for inspection. We will check your grooming, and as Dr. Travers mentioned, you will be fined if you fail. Is this clear?" "Yes Sir." He passed her a sheet of paper and a pen. "Please write this down so you don't forget. For next Thursday we will be looking for the following. "You need to start using makeup. Not a lot, but we expect some lipstick and eyeliner. "You need to wear some jewelry-at least earrings. Are your ears pierced?" "No Sir." "You'll have to get your ears pierced before Thursday. And then buy a pair of earrings if you don't have some already. And start wearing a necklace. "Your skirt cannot cover your knees. You'll have to buy some shorter skirts. "Dr. Travers, is there anything I've forgotten? Anything she has to get done between now and Thursday?" Travers thought for a minute. "Yeah, shave your legs. And start using perfume. And paint your nails, both fingers and toes." "Did you get that all written down? Read that back to me. She went through the list: "Lipstick and eyeliner; pierced ears and earrings; a necklace; shorter skirts; shave my legs; perfume; and paint my nails." Stuck-Up Bitch "Right," said Todd. "And remember, there's a penalty if you screw up. Also, this isn't just for next week's fashion show. We expect you to dress nicely on campus every day. I see you almost daily and I will be watching for progress. Don't let me down. Have I made myself clear?" "Yes Sir." "Good. So we'll see you next week for inspection at 9am sharp. And don't forget to bring your money for Dr. Heppner. Before you leave, please thank us individually by name for our time." "Dr. Travers, thank you for your time, Sir." "Dr. Heppner, thank you for your time, Sir." Anna couldn't concentrate on her teaching for the rest of the day. Her mind was awhirl. The money was a real problem. She'd counted on Earl's-er, Dr. Heppner's-payoffs to make the car payments. There's no way she could afford that now. She'd just drive it until they repossessed it, and then she'd get by without a car. It'd destroy her credit rating, but what could she do? She lived pretty close to campus, though walking would be a pain in winter. And the rest of it? Somehow it wasn't so bad. At least she didn't get raped. Indeed, in retrospect she'd enjoyed it. Nobody had paid any attention to her body before. It was like going to a spa. Dr. Travers actually was pretty hot-she didn't mind him looking at her. The adrenalin rush made her high. Chapter Four Anna thought she'd followed all instructions as she prepared for her Thursday inspection. She mentally went through the list: lipstick, earrings, necklace, painted nails, shorter skirt. The secretary did a double-take as she walked through the door. "You're looking sharp today. What's the occasion?" "Nothing special," mumbled Anna. "Just an event for some students." "Dr. Heppner is waiting for you. Please go in." Anna walked in and shut the door behind her. "Stand over there for inspection," said Earl. Anna moved to the assigned spot. "How do you answer him?" demanded Todd. "Yes Sir," she said to Earl. And to Todd, "Sorry, Sir. I forgot." "Be careful, Honey Pot. You're gonna get in trouble." "Yes Sir." They looked her over carefully. "Did we tell her to wear stockings?" inquired Earl. "I don't think so. But then we didn't tell her not to wear stockings, either, so I don't think we can fine her. "Why are you wearing pantiehose?" "I thought it looked better. And it's warmer, especially in the morning. ... Sir." She didn't tell them that it made her feel more modest and less vulnerable. "Well, we're telling you now," instructed Earl. "You are not to wear pantiehose unless we specifically instruct you otherwise. Since we weren't explicit before we won't fine you. But now you have no excuse." "Yes Sir." "Take off your pantiehose. Take off your shoes, too. There's a chair for you if you need it." "er-uh Yes, Sir," trying to hide her embarrassment this time. She slipped her hands through the waistband to push down the pantiehose, and then lifted her skirt enough to pull them down, sitting to remove her shoes and the stockings. She resumed standing, nervously wiggling her toes in the carpet. "Did you shave your legs?" "Yes Sir." "Come here and let me see how good a job you did." She moved over to Earl, who rubbed his hand along her calf and shin searching for stubble. Dr. Travers copped the same feel on the other leg. It was the first time they'd touched her-it made her nervous about what might come later. "She did shave her legs," said Earl. "But not a very good job." "Yeah. I think she needs to get them waxed." "Look how she painted her nails," said Earl, holding her hand up for Todd's inspection. "It's not really what we wanted, is it. Should we fine her?" She'd put polish on her nails, but no color. All it did was make them shiny. "Her toenails are the same way." "I dunno. We can be clearer this week. We want you to color your nails, Little Girl. That means red or pink or green or black, or some color. It's not good enough just to polish them. And toenails, too. Understood?" "Yes Dr. Heppner, Sir." "Is your underwear clean? ... Show us what you got." "Yes Sir." Last week her display had been ten feet away. Now she stood right between Earl and Todd. They could just reach up and molest her if they so chose. But the skirt was too short to hide her face. She nervously put on her best 'don't mess with me' expression. "This might require more self-discipline than I can muster," said Earl. "Be patient. The food's got to cook before you can eat it." Then addressing Anna, "turn around and show us your behind." "Enough of that," said Earl, "before I lose control." She put her skirt down and turned to face them. "Did you use perfume?" "Yes Sir, but not very much." "Lean over and let me smell your cleavage." She bent down over Earl, embarrassed as her blouse fell away from her tits. She could feel his breath, but he didn't touch her. Thank goodness. "Where's the perfume?" inquired Todd. "I put it behind my ears, Sir." She bent down so he could sniff. "If it's there, it certainly isn't very much. I can barely make it out. What do you think Dr. Heppner? Did she pass inspection?" "Have a seat, Sweetie Pie," ordered Dr. Heppner. Anna sat opposite them at table. He checked the notes in front of him. "You mostly did a good job. You got the skirt, jewelry, and cleanliness right. You didn't follow directions with the pantiehose, but I suppose we can let that go. But you missed on the perfume. Your fine this week is $50, due next Thursday." Anna couldn't help but think she got off light. "Yes Sir." "Now please give me the money you owe me from last week." She'd hoped they'd forgotten about that, but no joy. She rummaged around in her purse and pulled out the bills. "All I was able to get together was $200, Sir. I will have to pay you the rest next week." Earl looked at her sternly. "You still owe me $200 from last week. The penalty is $20 for not paying in full, plus the additional $50 you owe from this week. Thus I am due $270 by next Thursday. Understood?" "Yes Sir," though she wondered where the money was going to come from. Then she remembered that Friday was payday. She'd have to stall on some of the bills. "Your minimum payment is $100, though additional penalties will accrue if you don't pay in full." "Yes Sir." "So, what's on the agenda for the coming week?" said Earl, looking at his notes. It was a rhetorical question and Anna didn't answer. He passed her paper and pencil to take notes. "First, you've got paint your nails properly. Put on enough perfume so that somebody standing near you can smell it. And it should be on your cleavage." He looked at her for a response. "Yes Sir." "And you need to get your legs waxed. That's probably something you should do once a week." "Yes Sir." "That cleans up the misses from last week. So moving forward: "Get your hair styled. Not just cut, I mean styled." "Yeah," interjected Todd. "Choose a girlie cut, something that makes you look younger. You're not a matron, so don't dress like one." "Yes Sir." Earl continued. "You can only wear open-toed shoes. You've got to show off those nicely painted toes of yours." "Yes Sir." "And you need to wear high heels at least one day next week. You've got nice legs. Show them off." "Actually," Todd interrupted again, "you should wear high heels two days next week. One of those should be next Thursday when you come for inspection." "I don't own any high heels, Sir." "Then buy some!" Earl ordered. "You're not paying me back yet precisely because we know this is going to cost you some money. Honestly, this is for your benefit, not ours, so quit your whining, Woman." "Yes Sir." But she thought Earl was a liar. They weren't doing this just for her. (For all that, it was kind of fun.) Earl got back to his list. "You need some new blouses. They don't need to be super tight, but they do need to show off your figure. We're not going to let you wear camping tents anymore." "Let me add to that," said Todd. "One of those blouses needs to be translucent enough to show off the bra line. Of course, that means you need to buy a bra that has a sexy line." "Yes Sir." She did not like this request. "And last on the list, you need to step up the makeup and jewelry a notch. Now it looks like you're wearing it only because we're forcing you. You need to own it, Kitty Cat. The jewelry's gotta stand out." "Yes Sir." Pretty soon they'd have her looking like a prostitute. Maybe that was the idea. "So read the list back to me," demanded Earl. She read off her do list: "Color my nails; more perfume; wax my legs; get my hair styled; wear open-toed shoes, including high heels; nicer blouses; and more makeup and jewelry, ...Sir." "Good. I think we're done. Please remember to thank us before you leave." "May I ask a question first, please Dr. Heppner, Sir? "Yes." He eyed her suspiciously. "This is a lot for me to do in one week. I don't really have the time or the money to get it all done. Can you please give me a longer deadline? Dr. Heppner, Sir? Earl and Todd looked at each other. Todd shook his head. Earl stroked his chin. "If you can't get it done then you'll have to pay the fines. That won't save you any money, but it will save you time. Frankly, Button Nose, if it's time you need, you're looking at twenty years. That's a lot of time to think about what you could've done in one week. There's nothing more important for your career right now than following our instructions-at very least disobeying is going to cost you tenure. "As far as money is concerned, you're just going to have to downsize your lifestyle. That's all there is to it. Get rid of the car. Drop the cable channels. Move to a cheaper apartment. I have absolutely no sympathy for you whatsoever when you complain about money. My daughter had to drop out of college because of you bloodsucking little bitch." He glared at her angrily. By the end of his speech Anna was bawling. She reached for a tissue. "Yes Sir," she managed to burble. "You may go now." "Thank you for your time, Dr. Heppner, Sir," she said through tears. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Travers, Sir." Chapter Five Anna dreaded the event toward which she now walked-the first faculty meeting of the academic year. She'd have to appear in public in her new, feminine attire. She-who led the charge to defeat the male gaze-wore a tight-fitting skirt that covered as much of her bare, waxed legs as she thought she could get away with. It went to just above the knee. The matching blouse fit snugly around her perfumed bosom, with ruffled, short sleeves. The top buttons were undone to expose cleavage, partially obscured by a contrasting scarf. Her feet bore open-toed pumps with two-inch heels in a color that matched the scarf. She sported bracelets with bangles on both wrists. New earrings-echoing the bracelets-highlighted her girlie bob haircut, now perfectly primped and styled. And horrors, the beautician had even touched up her hair-a little color to hide gray roots. Her nails were bright red, and her lipstick a deep pink. Only the eyeliner was modestly applied. It had been fun. Anna surprisingly enjoyed the shopping. She'd put it all on the credit card-the one that would probably get canceled in a few months. Even more, she liked the spa. The stylists, manicurists, pedicurists, leg-waxers-they all pampered and flattered her. It made her feel like a movie star. She didn't even mind the $250 bill. Never had her entry into a room been like this. Heads turned her way, conversation stopped, eyes stared, and momentarily the crowd fell quiet. She smiled at them as nonchalantly as she could muster. Only then did they become self-conscious, trying to hide their curiosity behind sidelong glances and whispered gossip. She'd have caused less stir if she'd walked in stark naked. Music prof Joe Jepperson stood too close to the door to ignore her. "Hello, Anna," he greeted uncomfortably. "How was your summer?" "My summer was fine," she answered, truthfully. It was bad form for any man to comment on a woman's appearance, so she just smiled at him and let him stew. He slunk away, embarrassed. With the new academic year, Anna no longer had any responsibility for organizing the meeting. That baton had been passed to Ellen Riggens, a biology professor. She dressed like Pigpen in the old Peanuts cartoon-dowdy, dirty, and unkempt. A demanding anti-masculinist, she employed her strong personality to enforce political correctness. "What's the occasion, Anna?" she demanded. "My book was accepted for publication, and I wanted to celebrate." Ellen's face flushed red. "Seems an odd way to celebrate given the title of your book." "Yeah, but it's also the start of a new research project." "What?" "I want to write a book that describes how I am treated differently when I dress in a stereotypical way. My hypothesis is that men will discriminate against me more. I can turn that into a memoir." She'd prepared this as an excuse, but the more she thought about it, the idea actually seemed pretty good. Making the best of a bad situation, she thought. Dr. Riggens looked furious. Why? wondered Anna. What have I done to her? "I think that's a terrible idea," said Ellen. She turned in a huff and stormed away. Anna was happy to see Mary Jean standing nearby. She hoped for moral support. "Why are you doing this, Anna? I know you were experimenting with clothes, but really. You've got everybody jealous. They're furious with you!" "They're just going to have to get used to it. I can't dress like a frump anymore. I'm still young and I don't have to." They found themselves in line for refreshments. Like Anna had done last year, Dr. Riggens had shanghai'd Todd Travers into serving refreshments. After all, no woman could be expected to do such a demeaning task. Worse, they'd given him an apron to wear-a pink thing with ruffles on the bottom. It made him look like a transvestite. They'd probably castrate him if they had the power, thought Anna. She actually felt sorry for Dr. Travers. She didn't know if the rule for respectful language extended to public places. That could be embarrassing for both of them. Still, she couldn't risk paying any more fines. So she figured she'd make it sound like an inside joke. "Hey, Dr. Travers! How was your summer?" she proclaimed with a big smile and exaggerated camaraderie. "Fine," he smiled back, seemingly grateful for her ruse. "Would you like tea or coffee?" "I'll have tea, please, Sir. And a cookie." Anna realized that the Sir must have felt good after all the anti-masculinist insults. She was glad she included it. Mary Jean couldn't sit next to Anna. "It will ruin my reputation," she explained. So Anna sat by herself in the back corner-nobody wanted to sit close to her. But then David Peprin came down the aisle. "Anybody sitting here?" he asked, pointing to the seat next to her. "No," said Anna, uncomfortably. "He sat down. A gregarious man, Dr. Peprin talked enough for both of them. Anna looked around the room and saw the angry eyes staring at her. Mary Jean was right. It was anger born of jealousy. The customary agenda for the first meeting of the year is for President Heppner to give a short speech summarizing the achievements of the previous year. He talked about how enrollment had increased, that the endowment was doing well, some new construction projects on campus, and an effort to start a music business program. And then he mentioned the faculty accomplishments. "Professor Johnson, in our chemistry department, had a paper published in the Journal of the American Chemical Society. Dr. Allison had a solo exhibition of her paintings at the State Museum. It won wide critical acclaim. And most spectacularly, Dr. Greten, in the English department, had her book accepted for publication. The title is Defeating the Male Gaze, and it will appear in February under the Social Progress imprint. I think this is the first book from that department in over five years-it's a major accomplishment. Dr. Greten, could you please rise to accept our congratulations?" That seemed unnecessary. Anna felt certain that Dr. Heppner did that just to humiliate her. But she was strangely not humiliated. She rose to polite applause, knowing full well that she-not they-was the empowered party. As the meeting ended and they filed out of the room, Mary Jean sidled up to her. "Stay away from my husband!" Anna, shocked at the anger and suspicion, nodded agreement. She didn't want to lose her friend. Chapter Six As Fall faded into Winter, Anna acquired the wardrobe, jewelry, and skillset to be an elegant dresser. Doctors Travers and Heppner set reasonable goals for her every week, including more makeup, new underwear, the occasional pantsuit, what to wear at the faculty picnic, and so forth. She found she enjoyed it immensely. Only financial difficulties made it hard. Without Dr. Heppner's monthly payments she had less money to spend, and then the clothes, spas, styles, and treatments were all pricey. Her car had been repossessed in October, and she was just barely keeping her head above water with the credit card bill. Her credit rating had fallen below 600. Now January, she arrived for her first inspection of the Spring semester. She stood in the usual spot awaiting instructions. "The rules will change now, Anna," began Dr. Heppner. "We've spent the last semester giving you the tools to be an attractive woman. On that score we have manifestly succeeded. Wouldn't you agree?" "Yes Sir," she replied, honestly. "We certainly don't mind helping you out, but that's not my primary intention. My goal is to profit from the endeavor. Not just to recoup some of the money I had to pay you, but also to compensate me for the pain you put me through over the past ten years. Do you understand?" "Yes Sir." Her heart sank. "It's much more fun to sex up an attractive young woman instead of a dowdy old lady. Isn't that true?" "Yes Sir," she said, looking at the floor. "Now come over here and sit on Dr. Travers' lap." Todd wasn't dressed in his usual suit and tie. Instead he wore a sweatsuit, as if he were on the track team. She'd had a crush on Dr. Travers-even more so after this past semester. Sitting on his lap in front of Dr. Heppner was embarrassing-but it sent a tingle between her legs. She sat as modestly as she could, the skirt folded under her thighs and knees pressed together. She realized that her hip rested against his hard cock. That caused her to blush. His arm circled her waist and held her close. It felt good on this cold, January day. Dr. Heppner turned round to face her, his knees inches from hers. "Now take off your underwear." The blush doubled down. "Y-y-yes, Sir." She started to stand up, but the arm around her waist held her fast. "You need to stay seated," said Dr. Travers, calmly. She looked at him in surprise, feeling his breath upon her lips. The blush got even worse. She turned away before he could kiss her, and thought about how she'd remove her underwear while sitting. Pushing at it through the waistband wasn't going to work. She hitched up her skirt along the sides and grabbed the elastic on her pantie. She then commenced to wiggle it out from under her butt, using whatever freedom Dr. Travers gave her to shift her weight. Far from being helpful, Todd put his other hand on her thigh and lifted her skirt up. She felt his breath on her ear. Stuck-Up Bitch No hope of modesty now, she was blushing on all cylinders. She feared they'd notice how wet she was. Finally the pantie slipped past the knee and fell to the floor. "Spread your legs, Pussy Cat," ordered Dr. Heppner. He inserted his knees between hers and pushed her thighs further apart. His hand moved to her crotch, probing her pubic hair, labia and clit. Todd started nibbling on her ear. Blushing didn't help anymore. She wanted to kiss Todd, but didn't dare. "You need to trim your bush," Earl said. "I don't want it shaved, but it has to look nice. Get that done by next week." "Yes Sir," she groaned. "Please take off your bra," requested Todd. She had to untuck her blouse and reach up her back to unfasten the bra. She slipped the straps off her shoulders and pulled the garment loose. The arm around her waist got beneath her blouse and copped a feel. She had girly, C-cup breasts. She didn't need the bra to be sexy. Suddenly the hands pulled away. "Please beg Dr. Heppner to cum in your mouth." "Please, Dr. Heppner, Sir. Could you cum in my mouth, pretty please, Sir?" she said with dramatic exaggeration, hiding that she'd rather be sucking off Todd. Dr. Heppner's exposed organ was standing at full attention before she'd finished her request. The arm around her waist now pushed her off his lap. Todd rose from the chair, moved round to the other side of the table, and opened his laptop. He paid them no attention. She dropped to her knees in front of the presidential prick, and began licking it. Then she put it in her mouth and started to suck. She'd never given anybody a blowjob before, and figured the most important thing was to keep her teeth out of the way. After that it wasn't hard, and before long she tasted hot, salty cum hitting the back of her gullet. She had no choice but to swallow. "Now it's my turn," said Dr. Travers. "Stand facing Dr. Heppner's desk." He pointed to the front of the big, mahogany desk. She stood there with her back to the room. "Spread your legs, but keep your knees straight." She did as directed. "Now bend over at the waist, keeping your legs straight. Rest your cheek on the desk." Fortunately she'd taken yoga lessons. The desk felt pleasantly cold against her face. She sensed Todd's body heat as he stood inches from her butt, not yet touching. "Get that pussy in the air. Lift your skirt so I can see." Moving her hand put more weight on her face and bust. She pulled the skirt off her ass. "You need to get that cunt up. Otherwise I'll end up doing you in the ass." She didn't want that. She stretched every muscle to arch her butt up as high as she could. Now she felt a hard cock along her butt crack, and a hand between her legs exploring her labia. It spread the wetness down her thigh. Then came the cock, hard as a car's stick shift. Following the fingers, it probed for the hole. Momentarily uncomfortable as it pushed past the door, once inside it felt sooo good. She let out a little yelp. Her hands reflexively moved in front of her to give her support as Todd pumped slowly. She felt hands reach under her blouse to massage her breasts. She sensed his orgasm coming. More surprising, she felt her orgasm coming. She didn't want that-not with Dr. Heppner watching-but what could she do. As much as she tried not to, she couldn't help but moan. The climax came as great gobs of cum filled her hole, and the relaxing penis gradually withdrew. Per instruction, she cleaned up Dr. Travers before washing herself. Fortunately Dr. Heppner had his own private bathroom-she didn't need to leave the office suite. With inspection over and Anna fully dressed, she sat opposite them at table to discuss her tasks for the coming week. "The rules for this semester are different, Rosy Cheeks," began Dr. Heppner. "First, you are not allowed to wear panties. You must be naked underneath at all times. Dr. Travers will be making spot checks during the week to make sure you obey. Understood?" "Y-y-yes, Sir." "And then your skirts must be at least three inches above the knee." "Yes, Sir. May I ask a question, Sir?" Dr. Heppner nodded. "I don't have a car anymore, Sir. I have to walk to work. I can't do that in January in the snow while wearing open-toes shoes, a short skirt, and no stockings or underwear. This won't work, Sir. If I may, please, Sir." Dr. Heppner looked at Dr. Travers. Dr Travers looked at Anna. Anna looked at Dr. Heppner. Eventually a decision was reached. "You may wear more substantial clothes while moving from home to work and back again. Then you can change in your office." "May I ask another question, Sir?" "Yes you may, Pretty Tits." "I have no space in my office to hang clothes. There isn't even a hook. And how am I supposed to carry clothes back and forth, along with books and papers to grade, when I don't have a car? Sir?" Dr. Heppner laughed. "I think I have already solved this problem. The next thing on our list is for you to move your office. I've found space for you that will give you more privacy. It has a back room-plenty of space for a wardrobe. There's even a cot back there so you can entertain Dr. Travers when he gets horny. You need to move this week. Dr. Travers will show you where it is, and I've already made the arrangements." "Yes, Sir." She didn't like where this was going. "Changing the subject," continued Dr. Heppner, "what do you know about David Peprin?" "I know him casually, Sir. He's married to Mary Jean." "That's what I can't figure out. Why is he married to that ugly, old hag? It doesn't make any sense." "I don't know, Sir." The question had also crossed her mind, but it was too politically incorrect to articulate. "Is he gay?" "No, Sir. Definitely not." "How do you know?" "Because of the way he flirts with me since I've changed my wardrobe." "I've noticed that. He likes to sit next to you at faculty meetings." "Yes, Sir." "I want you to seduce and fuck him this coming week." "What!?" "I said I want you to seduce and fuck him. Preferably by next Thursday." "B-b-but, Sir! Mary Jean will be furious if she finds out I'm screwing her husband." "Precisely," said Earl. "That stuck-up bitch deserves anything we can throw at her," offered Todd, with more anger than Anna thought he had in him. "So you're going to tell her I've done this, Sir?" she asked Todd. Todd looked at Earl, who said "I don't think we'll need to. She's gonna figure that out on her own." Chapter Seven Anna's day did not start well. This morning she'd been brought to heel by "Hey, Cushy Tush! Wait up!" It was Todd, twenty feet behind her. She'd gotten used to the increasingly demeaning, "sexy" nicknames during inspection. But this was on the first floor of Addison Hall, in public. How embarrassing. She looked around, relieved to see that nobody overheard his outburst. "It's time for a pantie inspection." He reached under her skirt and patted her naked butt. And then, just to make sure no g-string hid in the folds of her labia, he reached round and fingered the crotch. Her face flushed hot. "Whaddya say?" asked Todd, smiling. "Thank you, Sir," she muttered with ill-disguised anger. "You forgot my name." "Thank you, Dr. Travers, Sir." "How do you like your new office?" "It's fine, Sir." "Good! I may stop by this afternoon to look at it." "I'm joining Dr. Peprin for lunch today. I might be busy, Sir." "Oh. OK," he acknowledged with a big grin. "Some other day then. I'll catch you round, Princess Puss." That, along with classes, meant she was exhausted at the end of the workday. It was late February. A light snow dusted the grass. She donned leggings and boots for the walk home. By the time she stepped outside, dusk had faded into night. No sooner had she shut her front door and kicked off her boots than the doorbell rang. "Dr. Heppner! What a surprise." "Hello, Girlie Pet." He pushed his way through the door without being invited. "What's for dinner?" "I, -I wasn't expecting company. I cooked a bit of chicken for me, but there's not enough for two. Sir." "Looks like you'll have to go to the store and get something. Why don't you pick up a bottle of red wine while you're at it." "Dr. Heppner, Sir, It's snowing, and..." "Don't worry, Pretty Lips. I can make myself at home while you're gone. It's not a problem." Anna realized there was no point in arguing with him. She put her boots back on and stepped outside, slamming the door behind her. She returned with her bag of groceries about 45 minutes later. Sensing something was wrong as soon as she stepped through the door, she noticed her bedroom door was open. A quick glance inside showed that every drawer had been rifled. "Why did you go through my stuff?" she demanded, angrily. "Careful, Jail Bait. You need to speak to me properly. Remember-it's twenty years in the slammer you're looking at." "Why did you go through my stuff?" And then she spit it out: "Sir." "I'm not looking for your stuff, Cutie Thief. I'm looking for mine." He held up a wad of hundred dollar bills. "Hey! That's my money!" "No. It's my money. That's $2,000 against what you owe me, Pussy Lips. I knew you were hiding it. And you forgot to address me properly. One more slip like that and you'll get fined. Now get in the kitchen and cook dinner for us." Anna stared at him furiously while she considered what to do. Maybe twenty years wasn't so bad, after all. And he'd go down with her at this point. Still, after a few seconds she wordlessly turned toward the kitchen, groceries in hand. "You're a good cook," commented Dr. Heppner when dinner was finally served. "You'd be a good wife for many a man." "Yes Sir," replied Anna, still way too angry to be flattered. "What happened with David this afternoon?" "We had lunch in my office, Sir." She'd enjoyed the lunch. David could entertain. They'd both recently read Mohsin Hamid's new novel about the one-time wealthy man falling for the pretty girl. "You're quite the pretty girl yourself," said David. "What's come over you, anyway?" Anna started to take him into her confidence, but thought better of it. The less people knew about her circumstance the better. "I don't want to waste my youth," she said, truthfully. "Ha! That's not very anti-masculinist of you. Aren't you supposed to sacrifice yourself for the good of your sisters?" "It's too late for that. They all hate me now. Especially your wife." "Don't feel bad," said David. "Mary Jean hates everybody-even me. She's always complaining about the other faculty. 'Backstabbing bitches' is how she refers to them." "I used to think we were friends, but now I can't stand her. She's such a hypocrite." "I can't disagree." "Why'd you marry her?" "To get my job!" answered David, unperturbed by the impertinent question. "It's almost impossible to get hired as a male faculty member. But when you come as a significant other you get special dispensation. But I don't need her anymore-I'm already a full professor. They can't fire me. I got a hell of a lot more talent than all of those women put together." "I don't doubt it," offered Anna, surprised that she actually agreed with him. "Did you have sex with him?" The question interrupted her reverie. "Yes Sir," she answered, hoping Dr. Heppner wouldn't catch her lie. David had kissed her-she could still feel it on her cheek. The accompanying good-bye embrace was closer than usual. She pressed her bosom against his chest and held the pose for as long as seemly. Somehow they both knew that it would come to sex someday-someday soon-but not now. Now would've turned it into a one-night-stand, which certainly Anna didn't want. Apparently David didn't want it either, for he didn't push the issue. "What did you do?" asked Dr. Heppner. "We just fucked. Nothing special, Sir." It seemed he believed her. "That's what I'd like to do. No reason why Mister Peprin should get all the fun. But you'd better clear the table and wash the dishes first. "And by the way, the dinner was delicious. You really are a good cook. Thank you!" She smiled wanly as she reached across the table to grab his plate. She felt him watching her as she worked at the sink. It took her fifteen minutes-thoroughly washing everything, including the pots and pans. But further procrastination was impossible. "Let's go to the bedroom." He sat on her bed with her standing between his knees. He wanted to remove her clothes himself, starting with the leggings. That necessitated a thorough investigation of butt and pubes before he actually pulled it off her feet. Of course she wore no pantie underneath. The skirt quickly followed, and then she felt him kissing her nether lips. It made her hot. He tongued her clit and labia. He unbuttoned her blouse from the bottom, reaching up to unfasten her bra while the top buttons were still attached. He massaged her breasts without yet being able to see them. But not for long. Soon both blouse and bra were removed and she stood before him naked. Per instruction she turned off the lights. He stripped naked, crawled into her bed and invited her to join him. Then he pulled her on top of him, and hard as a bull moose, he found the door and pushed inside. It took him awhile to cum. With more skill he could've made her cum, too. She didn't. He did. Satiated, he fell asleep. She realized that he intended to spend the night sleeping in her bed. That wasn't the worst of it-no matter what position she assumed, his hand always rested between her legs. It tickled and it excited. It made it impossible for her to get any sleep. The next morning he rolled on top of her and fucked her again. Chapter Eight Pantie inspections became unreasonably thorough. This week she found herself naked, spread-eagled on her back on the floor in Dr. Heppner's office, while Dr. Travers lay on top of her pounding pussy. Somehow it was fun. Dr. Travers was a hunk. The rest of her life was more stressful. How Mary Jean found out she didn't know. Maybe she hadn't found out-perhaps it was just woman's intuition. But whatever-her distaste had morphed into undisguised hatred. The old lady went out of her way to diss her, insulting her in public. Anna was now ostracized by most of the female faculty. "How am I ever going to get tenure, Sir?" she asked after cleaning up from pantie inspection. "Mary Jean is chair of the Promotion & Tenure Committee." "You may have heard that Dr. Travers has received early promotion and tenure," said Dr. Heppner. Anna nodded. "I did that so I could put him on the Promotion & Tenure Committee. So don't worry, Flirty Skirt. Your pussy will be in good hands." He grinned. "Thank you, Sir." She returned his smile. "Don't get too excited. Your tenure isn't in the bag yet. You need to carefully follow our instructions this week." "Yes Sir." "Do you know Darryl Washington?" Anna paused to think. The name didn't ring. "No Sir." "He owns a body shop just east of town, called Action Auto Body. Maybe you've driven by." She shook her head. "I don't have a car anymore, Sir." "Hmm," continued Dr. Heppner, looking at Todd. "That's a problem we'll have to solve." Turning to Anna again, he said "You need to seduce and fuck him this week." "So how am I supposed to do this without a car, Sir?" asked Anna. "And who is this Darryl dude, anyway?" "That's Mr. Washington to you, Slimy Pants," growled Earl. "I'm surprised you don't know who he is. He's Ellen Riggens' husband." Anna couldn't resist a smile. "Sir, this will ruin my reputation. Ellen already hates me-this is going to make it much worse." "That stuck-up bitch deserves everything we can throw at her," Todd exclaimed. "Hell, I'd purposely crash one of my cars to give you an excuse to visit him." "Stuck-up bitch is right," said Earl. "I can't stand the broad. But now we really do need to worry about cars and transport." "Turns out I've already worked on that," said Todd. "I put a dent in my pick-up truck last year. Nothing serious. It won't need a paint job, which means they can probably fix it while you wait. Presumably you'll be waiting in Mr. Washington's office. I went and got an estimate on the bill-they quoted me $300. So you offer $200 plus pussy, and hopefully he'll bite." "I don't have any money, Sir." For once she told the truth about money. Fortunately Dr. Heppner believed her. "I'll give you $300. But you owe me $100 back. If you can trade it for pussy, so much the better. Otherwise it'll have to come out of your next pay check." He fished cash out of his wallet and passed it across the table. Anna gulped as she grabbed it. "So how am I supposed to do this, Sir?" Todd answered. "I've called up and made an appointment for you. It's under your real name-Anna Greten-I've said you're a professor in the English department. The date is this coming Thursday at 2pm." "Y-y-you used my real name? Sir?" "Of course, Puta Dear. Revenge won't be as sweet if he doesn't know who you are?" "But what about my reputation, Sir?" "What about Ellen Riggens' reputation? Think about that." Thursday shortly before two Anna pulled into the Action Auto Body Shop lot. Pantie-free, as usual, she sported a flouncy skirt that worked especially sexy when she walked. She wore a lacy bra under a loose, white blouse that could accommodate curious hands. "I'm Anna Greten," she told the grandma-like receptionist. "I have a 2pm appointment." "Yes. I see. Please have a seat. We can fix your truck while you wait." "I need to speak with Mr. Washington before you start. Is he around?" "He is, but he's kind of busy right now," she said, glancing into the shop. "It's important that I talk to him." The receptionist returned with a tall, strong, slightly overweight, Black man in tow. He wiped dirt and grease off his hands as he walked through the door. "Miss Greten, how nice to meet you!" He smiled broadly, genuinely happy. "Ellen's told me a lot about you." He extended a slightly cleaned hand. "Hopefully good things," Anna laughed, knowing full well it wasn't. "Ellen suggested I bring my car here. But I need to talk to you in your office for a few minutes, if I can. Please?" "Office? I don't have much of an office." "Someplace where we can talk privately for a minute." The "office" turned out to be a large, walk-in closet. It had a small desk at one end, stacked with an adding machine and bookkeeping paraphernalia. At the other end was a bookshelf piled high with catalogs, spare parts, and knick-knacks. In between was a chair and barely enough room for two people to stand. Anna realized that she wouldn't be lying spread eagle on her back-no room for that. A few minutes later an embarrassed Anna found herself on Mr. Washington's lap. And not just that, but she sat impaled by a very hard, big, Black cock. She'd spent some effort getting it hard. Mr. Washington was by nature a gentleman and would never have pushed himself on her. She had to seduce him, first with her fingers and then with her mouth. But now he was an enthusiastic participant. His oily, Black hands unfastened her bra and played with her boobs. The blouse hung loosely enough to reveal perky tits. Her skirt hitched up past her thighs, which straddled his hips. "I like the way you trim your bush," he'd said before arousal made speech impossible. "It makes you look like a pro." He reached round under her skirt to pull her pantieless ass closer to him. Only Anna had leverage to move-she bounced hard to pump the cum out of him. And cum he eventually did-with great gobs of sticky, white goo. Despite her discomfort and embarrassment, Anna couldn't help but share the event-it was as intense an orgasm as she'd ever had. She'd worked hard for it.