Message-ID: <25677asstr$965538612@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: Brenda5688@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <b4.90594bc.26bd57a4@aol.com> Subject: {ASSM} The Secret League of U.T. <Wet T-shirts, Mast, Secret Organizations> Date: Sun, 6 Aug 2000 01:10:13 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/25677> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin <1st attachment, "SecretSociety.txt" begin> This is my first story in what I hope will be a series. It is copyrighted by me, Brenda McKean, and I wish that no one makes any money from this story. This story talks frankly about women, so you've been warned. Archiving is premissible, just please let me know so I can be all proud :) This writer stays up late at nights hoping for precious fan mail at Brenda5688@aol.com The Secret League of U.T. Part 1 Or Initiations and Wet T-shirts, By Brenda McKean I went to college under a terrible, terrible misconception. I wasn't worried about being a nerdy girl with no friends in High School because I thought only nerdy people went on to college. I fully expected to hook up with a trendy, intelligent crowd that read poetry and complained loudly about foreign politics. Instead, I discovered that all the selfish, superficial, popular and attractive people from High school had gone to college too! It was so unfair! The worst part was I had to share a dorm room with one of those vacuum head pretty girls; a bitch named Sydney. She was your typical blonde beauty queen with her dad's credit card number written on a bracelet. From the first day we met, she rolled at her eyes at my clothes, my appearance and my computer, and I don't think those eyes have ever stopped rolling. She makes a point of ignoring me, and inviting her friends over all hours of the night to get drunk and talk about the guys they're fucking. It was awful, Sydney was a constant living reminder of how unpopular I was, and how I would have given anything to enjoy the kind of party life she was having. Now, it's not like I'm some horrible ugly girl. It's just that I got really tall, really fast when I was a teen. I shot up to five feet, eleven inches in the seventh grade, and before you think that's a good thing, my breasts waited till I was seventeen to catch up. So for most of my High school life, I was known Brenda Board. Add my straight brown lifeless hair, my big round glasses and a love for French novels, and you get the president of the journalism club. That's also known as Queen of the Nerds in case you're too popular to realize that. What frustrates me is that I'm nineteen now, and I still can't get a date. I've got boobs! I stay in shape by playing tennis! I even wear contacts now to show off my big brown eyes! What more do men want from me? Why is it that the only men who ask me out are all bigger computer geeks than I am? Sure, they're nice guys but sometimes I think the only reason they ask me out is because I'm the only geek they know that has breasts. Ok, that last part isn't exactly true. Last Friday morning; I was walking to Biology when the most unbelievable thing happened to me. This gorgeous dark man, and I mean gorgeous like he was Antonio Banderas' body double, ran right into me, knocking our books to the ground. It was one of those beautiful, classic, almost cheesy moment straight out of a love movie. We both bent down to gather our books, and he was apologizing the entire time. I've never been down on the ground with a handsome man complimenting me while he belittled himself. It was so dream-like, so fantastic, so much like something I would fantasize about; I didn't know what to say. "Th-th-thank you!" I yelled, and then I gathered my books, and ran. How lame was that? If I were half as smart as my grades say I am, I would have requested that he take me out for dinner as an apology. If I had an once of class, I would have gently reprimanded him on his clumsiness and then request his name. If I weren't such a babbling geek, I would have at least gotten his name! I was still upset about that encounter later that afternoon. I didn't have any classes after eleven o'clock because I had planned for having a wonderful social life that would have been impaired by having classes. Since my social life failed to happen, I just spent my Friday afternoons listening to my roommate, Sydney, talk about what she's going to do with her night. It was like I was a part girl by proxy. Sydney was discussing which of her three guys she should go out with tonight, when we had a knock on our door. Since Sydney was debating which shoes to where, I got the door. It pisses me off when I think about it now. She didn't even ask me to get the door, I just did it myself because I felt she was having a life and I wasn't. It's like just because I was unpopular, it was my duty to do things for the privileged. When I opened the door, I was expecting to see more of Sydney's bar trash friends. When I saw the two women who knocked, I immediately stood up straight, and had this urge to brush my hair. They had the appearance of professionals, like female executives on a corporate mission. In a lot of ways, they reminded me of the ROTC representatives that tried to recruit students. They were very formal, and they looked at me with appraising eyes. "May we come in?" the woman in front asked. She was a stunning Asian woman with a very friendly closed lip smile. I loved the way her hair framed her oval face, coming down in dark black wings around her cheeks. She had on a beautiful green silk shirt and these amazing black jeans that clung to her hips but didn't look uncomfortable at all. A necklace of gold was around her neck, decorating the generous cleavage she was showing. She was dressed for a party, but her stance and demeanor told me she was here to do something important. "Sure," I said meekly. I let them both in, and I saw Sydney's eyes light up when she saw them. "Are you here to rush me into Alpha Sigma Pi?" Sydney asked excitedly. "I think not," the second woman said, with a touch of scorn. She was a tall woman, thin and willowy yet her healthy tan made her look more like an amazon. Her blonde hair was pulled straight up into a short ponytail and her bangs were exquisitely done like a movie star. She was wearing a lovely black dress that flowed like liquid night around her body. She towered over all of us, and yet her elegant shoes didn't have a hint of heel to them. "Take this hundred dollars," the blonde said to Sydney, "and go away until at least 8 o'clock." Sydney took the money with glee. "Why do you want to talk to boring Brenda for?" she asked as she slipped on her shoes. "If you can leave without asking any more stupid questions, I'll give you another twenty," the blonde said briskly. Sydney's smile vanished, but she didn't say another word. She just lingered a bit, gathering her purse, brushing her hair, adding another layer of lipstick, the usual passive aggressive behavior that spoiled children do. After another five minutes of silent pouting, she left, taking the extra twenty with her. "Whore," the blonde muttered when the door closed. "Now, now Jamie, let's be polite for Brenda's sake," the Asian woman said. "My sake?" I interrupted. "Why are you here to see me?" The Asian woman tipped her head, and smiled with something similar to pity in her eyes. "Why is it so shocking we would want to see you, Brenda?" she said. "Don't answer that, let us introduce ourselves first. My name is Morena, and this is my friend, Jamie. May we sit down?" "S-s-s-sure," I stuttered. Our dorm was furnished with two hard wooden chairs, but I offered them to Morena and Jamie anyway. As the two sat down, I couldn't get over how much classier they were than their surroundings. The contrast of the cheap chairs and their expensive clothes really made me feel how poor I was. "Brenda, we're members of a club that has dedicated itself to helping women like yourself," Morena began. "Both Jamie and I came to college with the same handicaps that you have right now. We were smart, we were poor, and we were very inexperienced when it came to men. Lucky for us, we were contacted by the club we now represent. They helped us fulfill our own potential, and become the kind of women who can tell your roommate to go fuck herself." "Wow," I said, a little confused to say much more. "Ar-ar-ar-are you guys going to give me a make-over?" I asked. Jamie laughed. "Yes, that is one of the benefits of membership. We'll help you do something with that hair, teach you how to apply makeup, and we'll even buy you a new wardrobe. But that's minor compared to teaching you how to live." "Jamie's right," Morena added. "Before I joined the club, I had never gone on a date. I never had the courage to wear low cut shirts. If a guy walked up to me, I would just smile and bite my lips while he talked to me. In my first week of college, I was doing my roommate's homework because she promised to get me a date at the end of the semester. Thanks to the club though, I learned to stand up for myself, and I learned how to uninhibit myself." "That sounds gr-gr-great," I stuttered. In fact, it sounded too good. If there is one movie scene that speaks to all unpopular girls, it was the prom scene in Carrie. As much as I hated to ruin the illusion, I had to ask. "Is this some kind of set-up?" I asked. "You-you-you-you're not going to strand me somewhere and dump stuff on me, are you?" I half-expected them to get mad, or start denying it, but instead, Morena just smiled and looked at Jamie. Jamie reached into her purse and pulled out a huge ball of cash. "Here you go, Brenda," Jamie said, handing me the money. "This is our initiation fee, a thousand dollars." "You're paying ME for initiation?" I asked, so stunned my stutter was gone. "Of course," Morena said like it was terribly obvious. "Don't you think you're special enough that a club should pay you to have you join?" "Uhhhhhh," I just said. There was a thousand dollars in my hand! "First, we need to ask you some questions before we go any further," Jamie interjected. "We have found that it does no good to help a woman realize her sexual and physical potential if she's a prude by nature." "O-o-o-ok, go ahead and ask," I said. Morena smiled at my willingness. "Good, first of all, are you a virgin? It's ok if you are not." I wasn't sure how to answer, but I decided I could trust these two. "No, I'm not a vir-vir-virgin." I swallowed hard, not sure if they would accept the truth. No, I was afraid they would laugh. It was the way they waited for me to explain that gave me the courage to tell them the whole truth. "I-I-I heard that losing your virginity really hurts, and some girls at school told me that guys hate it when all that blood comes out. So I decided, that I would take care of it myself." I didn't tell them how I used a small flashlight to do it. How fucked up is that? On the other hand, it's not like I could have bought a sex toy when I was seventeen. Morena reached over and held my hand, and squeezed it. She looked at me with those deep brown eyes and smiled gently. It felt good to finally tell someone my stupidity, but it felt even better not to have her freak out when she heard it. "I think you did a very brave and smart thing, actually," Morena said. "You heard it was an awful experience, so you tried to get it over with on your own conditions. I've heard a lot of girls tell me that they had sex with a guy, any guy, just to get rid of their hymen. Your story is the first one sounds like you had too much pride in yourself to get a guy to do something you could do yourself." "I wish I had thought of it," Jamie said. "I still get the creeps when I think of the asshole I got to fuck me. I was so obsessed with my virginity, thinking it was something I had to lose in order to be normal, that I literally fucked the first guy to hit on me in my senior year." Morena's smile lessened. "Virginity is one of the worse myths we women have to face. There is so much hysteria over a simple piece of flesh." Morena closed her eyes and shook her head, and then returned to asking more questions. "Now, do you masturbate?" she asked. "Yes," I said meekly, thinking of how many times I had quietly worked while Sydney was snoring." "Excellent, it's nice to have a candidate who has a healthy sex drive," Morena answered. I loved the way she made my masturbating out to be a major accomplishment. "Third and final question," Morena said. "When that guy knocked over your books today, what do you wish you had said?" I jumped. They knew about him? Before I could wonder about how they knew, I answered their question. "I wish I could have asked him out," I answered. "Come with us today, and you will," Morena said. That was all the convincing I needed. After pocketing my initiation fee, I joined Jamie and Morena and let them take me on a whirlwind tour around town. They had set me up an appointment at a beauty salon first, and we drive in Morena's Porsche. They even let me sit in front with Morena, which was an awesome experience. At the beauty salon, I felt like Cinderella being worked over by a team of Fairy Godmothers. Not only did they put some great make-up on me, they also taught me how to put it on, and what colors I should use for my skin tones. The entire time, Jamie took notes for me, making sure I didn't lose a scrap of the wisdom they were giving me. I'm amazed that I reached the age of nineteen and never knew how to keep lipstick off my teeth. Next, they cut my hair. No, they didn't cut my hair; they changed my hair. I had straight, dark, dull brown hair. They curled my hair into ringlets, and I looked like mermaid when they were done. Then they added highlights to my hair; blonde streaks everywhere making me look more like a college girl than a college student does. They didn't really cut my hair much, keeping my shoulder length. In the end, my hair looked like it came from a totally different person. I loved it. After that wonderful transformation, we went to dinner at a restaurant so upscale, that the waiters actually were attentive. I couldn't believe how much money Morena and Jamie had spent on me already. I also couldn't believe how much fun we were having. The girls were always helpful with suggestions, and never seemed to be bored when I was getting made over. I had to ask more about this organization they were with. "The Secret League of UT was founded in 1897 by a woman who aren't allowed to name except to full members," Morena explained over steak. "Let's call her Mrs. Freedom. And before you ask, I can't tell you what the U and the T stand for either. That comes with later membership. Anyway, Mrs. Freedom was married at sixteen to a much older man in a marriage railroaded by her parents. She lived a horrible life for five years while her husband abused her, verbally and sexually. At her age, and lack of education, she never knew what an orgasm was, or really anything about her own body except what her husband told her. Luckily, he died in a horse accident, and Mrs. Freedom was widowed with an enormous amount of money." "Mrs. Freedom decided to use her money to make sure that women didn't have to suffer she same fate she did. To this end, she felt that sexual education and intense self-esteem improvement was the only way to go. When she tried to introduce these ideas to colleges in 1897, she found that society was against helping any woman escape her limits. The world likes their women ignorant, uninformed about their own bodies, and completely at the mercy of their wise husbands. After several unsuccessful attempts, Mrs. Freedom realized that any effort had to be in secret, hidden from the eyes of men." "Since she was extremely wealthy, and didn't have the restraints of a husband, Mrs. Freedom was able to start the first League Headquarters. To her surprise, membership was never a problem. Once she had her first six girls, they recruited hundreds over the next year. Women were ready to take back their bodies, their pride, and their freedom of choice. By 1900, membership was spilling into college campuses all over the country." "How do you girls have so much money?" I asked. Jamie answered this one. "Mrs. Freedom found out quickly that some women are so unintelligent that even with our training, they would go back and resume their normal, oppressed lives. After wasting her training on these idiots, Mrs. Freedom came to the unhappy conclusion that it takes an intelligent woman to want to improve herself. That's why she insisted on a high grade average at all times from her members. We don't ask for rich members like a sorority or country club would, but because we select smart women, they tend to be successful, and they tend to stay in touch with the League." "So it was my grades that made me a candidate?" I asked. Wow, good grades really do make a difference! "Partially," Morena said with her usual warm smile. "It was your complete failure to handle a handsome man that added to your candidacy, and it was your open desire to improve yourself that settled the matter." "So what do I do now? How do I get to become a full member?" I asked. I sounded like an infomercial. "The first step is that you need sponsors, and that'll be Jamie, and me" Morena explained. Every school semester, two members are randomly paired and expected to find a candidate. This prevents the process from becoming stale, because the pairs are always different." "The second step was giving you a crash course in appearance," Jamie chipped in. "In case you drop out, at least you have the basics so that you can compete in our shallow society." "The final step to become a candidate is a test," Morena said. "The League needs to know just how brave you are, to know how willing you are to endure something scary in order to join us." "It's not like a fraternity hazing, where we're trying to humiliate you for entertainment," Jamie added. "This is a serious test where we want to see how willing you are to change in order to better yourself." I swallowed hard on my steak. "Wh-wh-what do you want me to do?" I asked. "Usually, we arrange for women to sing a sexy song at a Karaoke bar," Morena said. "It's a strong test of how willing a woman is to show herself to the public in a sexy manner. To be honest, we do this with most women because they aren't very attractive, and singing is more performance based than physical." "Th-th-that's not so bad," I said, feeling my stomach drop. The idea was terrifying! "That's not what we have planned for you," Morena said. "We've entered you into a wet T-shirt contest outside of town." "What?" I hissed, dropping my voice so no one in the restaurant could hear us. "It's just that you're naturally good looking," Jamie explained. "Making you sing in public wouldn't be a test at all. The women we usually take to Karaoke bars are not pretty women. They usually have weight problems, or are out of shape. We make them submit to the singing challenge because we know men are not likely to heckle someone for singing. You however, are very attractive and in good shape. We feel that you wouldn't be heckled in a wet T-shirt contest. Therefore, since the League requires a supreme act of fear in a safe environment, we feel that the T-shirt contest is the greatest challenge you can face." "Are you crazy?" I whispered. I felt my cheeks blushing at just the thought of it! There was no way I could stand up in front of a bunch of guys knowing they were all staring at my chest! "No," Morena said simply. "We're not crazy. We just know you are good looking enough to compete. If we think you're pretty enough, what are you afraid of?" It took a while for me to answer. "I'm afraid they'll laugh at me," I said. "I'm afraid they'll laugh at the nerd on stage." "They just might," Morena countered. "They just might laugh. They might also cheer. The thing is, you don't know. You never will know if they let other people decide if you are attractive or not. Before I joined the Secret League. I thought a half-Korean wasn't anybody's idea of beauty. According to my classmates, I was a mongrel no body would ever marry. Do you think I'm that ugly?" Being asked that by such a beautiful woman was almost funny. "You're one of the prettiest women I had ever seen," I answered truthfully. "There you go," Jamie jumped in. "If they were wrong about Morena, why can't they be wrong about you?" I stalled for some time by eating a piece of my salad. There was no need to stall. As much as I wanted to join the League for myself, I think I wanted to prove these women's fate in me even more. They had done so much for me already; I had to show them I was worth it. "I just wish I had a better tan," I finally said. Both of them smiled, and I felt a strange warmth in my belly. Against my better judgement, I found myself looking forward to it. I just wasn't sure what it was I was looking forward to; the contest or the approval of my new friends? The next two hours was hell on my nerves. Morena provided me with antacid pills, which really took the spinning out of my flip-flopping stomach. We drove out to the club that was hosting the contest, a suspicious looking place with the name 'Angela's Playhouse'. With a neon woman shaking her butt on the sign, the place sounded more like a whorehouse than a club. Morena and Jamie were with me the entire time that I had to get ready for the contest. They helped me with removing my make-up, since there was no point in wearing it if it was going to run. They also helped me finish the paperwork I needed to sign, as well as give me someone to talk to in the dressing room when the other girls came in. I would have been so intimidated if my friends hadn't stayed with me. The other girls were so attractive, I felt like an imposter for being there. Strangely though, none of the other contestants said anything or even looked down on me. "They haven't improved this outfit in five years," Morena laughed as she looked at my uniform. It was pretty simple. It was a pair of denim shorts and a white T-shirt with the club's logo very small by the collar. I guess the logo was small so that it wouldn't obscure any of my breasts. "Try it on, Brenda, and let's see if it looks as bad as I think," Jamie said. I dressed quickly. Obviously, you don't wear a bra at a wet T-shirt contest, so I had to let my twins just hand loose under the shirt. My own pants were replaced by the terribly short shorts that seemed to glue themselves to my ass. I felt terribly vulnerable with my ass cinched and my breasts just bouncing loose under the already transparent white shirt. "First things first," Morena chided and she grabbed the tail of my T-shirt. She quickly tied the bottom up, stopping just short of my breasts. When she was done, my T-shirt had turned into a bikini top that Daisy Duke would have worn. Checking myself in the mirror, I was amazed by how much larger she made my breasts look, just by giving them a tiny bit of support. "Belly buttons are in right now," Jamie commented. I couldn't believe it. I had my navel bare and was getting ready to show it to a bunch of strangers! "Now remember, the winner will be determined by applause, and you stand to win a hundred dollars," Morena said. "Big deal, I got a thousand just for hanging out with you guys," I responded. "I'm doing this to join, not for the money." "You're doing just fine," Morena said. She and Jamie gave me a big group hug that smothered me in friendship and hope. When they left to go up front, I was actually excited to get started. After the strange day I had experienced, I wasn't sure what to expect next! A guy on a microphone called us out, and he hosted the event. You would think with a club named Angela's Playhouse, that the person in charged would be Angela, wouldn't you? But of course not, we were stuck with a guy named, I'm not kidding, Eddie the Face. The stage was pretty huge. It was outside, using curtains to hide the backstage area. The sun was just beginning to set and the sky was various shades of blue and orange. The stage was shaped like a T, with a walkway going out into the packed crowd. A small plastic pool was waiting at the end of the T, and I could only guess what it was for. Men were literally pressed up against the stage as they were checking us out. Beer was obviously being sold, as several cups were raised in some sort of salute when we came on stage. I spotted Morena and Jamie easily, as they were standing on somebody's car. Eddie the Face started by asking the men if they had enough beer. The cheer the men gave made me think. Could this be any more adolescent? My fears calmed down as I looked at the various ages of the men in the crowd. There were old, balding guys, men who looked like they were married and this was their one chance to see a firm breast tonight. There were young college guys who had the same desperate stare in their eyes as the older guys. I couldn't believe it. These men really did want to see my tits. "Let's go to the first contestant!" Eddie roared. A very healthy looking Hispanic woman was first, and I was instantly jealous of her dark complexion and natural tan. I noticed she was a tiny bit chubby around the waist, but the men screamed loud for her anyway. She had very long black hair that she pulled back away from her face as she stepped into the kiddie plastic pool. "Now for the beer!" Eddie yelled as she picked up a huge pitcher of beer. They weren't using water at this wet T-shirt contest; they were going straight for the fraternity demographic. The Hispanic woman just tipped her head back as Eddie slowly poured the pitcher from above her head and onto her shirt. I couldn't see the actual wetting, because they reserved that view for the crowd. "It's cold!" the dark beauty screamed. Well, that'll be useful to know. After the pitcher was empty, the girl pranced a bit. She gave the guys plenty of different angles to appreciate her wet bust. Even from where I was standing, I could see the dark circles of her nipples, standing out proudly under her shirt. It was a good thing Morena did tighten up my shirt because I could see where the Hispanic girl's shirt did nothing to flatter her chest. Sure, it was wet, but when she moved the shirt would move as well. There was an occasional flash of nipples shown, but not enough for the tit starved crowd. "Next victim, I mean contestant!" Eddie quipped, and I rolled my eyes at his lameness. Who knows? Maybe guys like to think they're victimizing the girls. I mean, maybe the reason they use beer is some sort of power trip. The next girl was a long haired blonde who swayed her hips the entire trip to the pool. She waved to the guys, and they cheered even louder. When she stepped into the pool, she held her arms out like she was offering herself as a sacrifice. She squealed too as the cold beer splashed down her front. She wriggled her ass very over dramatically, pretty much like a slut would. The thing is, the guys loved it, and they cheered every time she swung that ass around. She stepped off the stage, and suddenly it was my turn. "Come down, you're the next contest!" Eddie leered from the microphone. My legs were trembling, but I headed down that stage anyway. I saw Morena and Jamie applauding and screaming along with the guys, and it almost made me laugh. You would think they were dying to see my wet tits as well. They were trying so hard to make me feel appreciated, I resolved that I was going to vamp this up as much as possible to prove myself to them. I stepped into the kiddie pool, and although it only had two pitchers of beer in it, the beer was freezing as it seeped between my toes. I kept my best smile on and looked right into the desperate faces of the men crowding around the stage. I couldn't help notice how they were reaching out to touch me, but I was just out of reach. "You ready?" Eddie asked softly as he lifted the pitcher above me. I nodded, and he let the beer flow. It was cold! I screamed as the icy beer splashed right between my cleavage. Eddie poured it slowly, and I couldn't help but watch my shirt as he poured. As tight as my shirt was against my bust, it was like watching my shirt dissolve as my curves were revealed. First the deep canyons of my breasts were revealed and then their round globes were slowly uncovered. I shivered as the beer hit my nipples, and I blushed with terrible embarrassment, as the hard points of my nipples became visible under my shirt. The beer just continued to pour and the crowd just screamed louder and louder. The beer had run down my chest and was now streaming down my shorts and legs. From somewhere, I saw a flash go off and I almost panicked as I thought about people taking pictures. But I was determined to impress the Secret League so I stood my ground. In fact, I did better than that. So I wouldn't feel like a victim while Eddie poured beer on me, I reached up and cupped my wet breasts, forming an uplifted target for him to aim at. A big smile broke out on his face as he continued to pour. For emphasis, I even wiggled my ass like I saw the blonde do, and I blushed even redder as the crowd cheered its approval. "Shake that ass!" someone yelled, and I almost wanted to jump down and kiss him. Imagine, a guy shouting 'shake that ass' to boring old Brenda! Eddie was reaching the end of the pitcher, and I had this almost sad feeling that it was coming to an end. I had men screaming and trying to touch me; I didn't want it to ever stop! As the pitcher was nearly completely uplifted, some little devil inside of me came out. Still clutching my breasts, I put my face under the steady stream and opened my mouth wide. I didn't think the crowd could get any louder, but they did as I guzzled the last of the beer and let it splash on my face. As it dribbled down my chin, I couldn't help but laugh at how silly, yet sexy I was. The beer finally gone, I had to do a little prancing. I had no problem with that at all at this point. I didn't see it as prancing; I saw it as a victory dance. I held my arms up high, and struck a pose with legs out stretched as I soaked into the drunken approval of the crowd. I could feel my shirt dripping constantly yet it clung to every swell and curve of my breasts. It was simply amazing. The thin material revealed everything I had; yet somehow it gave me enough protection to stand up in front of a group of strangers and flaunt myself. I walked up and down the stage slowly, sometimes bending over so that the men could get a closer look at my tits, and so that the guys behind me could appreciate my ass in those tight shorts. I don't know what came over me, but for the first time in my life, I felt like a real sensual being. I wanted to be appreciated, loved, wanted and fucked all at the same time. I lost control of myself, and posed, stretched and squeezed myself shamelessly. Never did I want the crowd to stop cheering, and never did I want them to stop looking at me. "All right there, time to go back now girl," Eddie quipped. He made a lewd joke about Spanish Fly being in the beer, but I didn't care. I went back to the line with the biggest smile on my face. "Slut," the blonde girl next to me sniped. I laughed. Brenda Board was a slut? I kept laughing throughout the entire contest. Later, after the bustiest woman had been declared the winner, after the contest was over, after I had scrubbed myself clean with a towel and after the crowd finally left, I rejoined Morena and Jamie. They gave me huge hugs that sent shivers down my already electrified body. I was so turned on by my earlier performance; I just couldn't stop smiling. "See? You passed that test with flying colors," Morena said, driving me back to my crummy dorm. "Wow," I just kept repeating. My nipples were still tingling from the excitement. "Next Friday, we'll take you to our Headquarters, and there you'll undergo the initiation ceremony," Jamie said, leaning into the front seat. My senses were so hyped; I was fascinated by the curve of her long neck to her shoulder. "Really? What will that be like?" I asked. "It'll be difficult, but from what I saw today, you have what it takes," Morena said with her coy smile. "That is if you can do your homework." I laughed. "I always do my homework." "Yes, but this is a different kind of assignment," Jamie said. "Here is your lab supply." She handed me a strange device that looked like it slipped over my pointer finger. It had nubs where my fingerprint should be, and it had a small switch at the base. I slipped it on, and turned the switch. I jumped when it started vibrating. "Listen carefully," Morena explained as we stopped at a red light. "As you can guess, this is a vibrator. We weren't kidding when we said that we don't accept prudes into our League. If you aren't comfortable with your own body, then you have no business letting someone else access." "What you need to do is bring yourself to orgasm with it at least once. I strongly recommend though, that you use it as often as possible between now and next Friday. Don't worry about the battery. If it stops working, then it'll shut down to conserve power and you won't be expected to use it. Any questions?" "No," I said, my mind whirling. I couldn't bring myself to tell them that I couldn't wait to use it. For that matter, I don't think I could think of any more to say. What do you say to the women who got you a makeover, gave you a thousand dollars, made you enter a T-shirt contest and then gave you a vibrator? "Wow," I said. "Here's your dorm," Morena said a bit sadly. "It's been great meeting you Brenda, and I'm looking forward to having you as a League sister." "Just don't forget to use the vibrator!" Jamie added as she hugged me. "That's your ticket in!" "I won't, I promise!" I said. I waved at them until they drove around the corner, and then I tore upstairs to my room. I loved my new friends, but the excitement of the day had driven me into a strange frenzy. The time was seven o'clock, and I knew I had at least an hour before Sydney showed up. I planned to celebrate my sexual power with an appropriate celebration. Our dorm room was empty as I expected, so I locked the door and jammed one of our wooden chairs under the doorknob. I wasn't taking any chances. It's odd now that I think about it. I've wanted to masturbate before when Sydney was gone, but I never had the courage to bar the door like I did then. I would have been too embarrassed to jam the door, because it would have been obvious why I wanted to do so. Today was different. Today I wanted to enjoy being the sexy woman everyone kept telling me I was. The lights were off, the door was barred and the shades were drawn tight. I felt a playful delight with my new toy. I stripped off my pants, and tossed my white panties to the side as well. I felt especially wanton, so I tossed my shirt and bra to the floor as well. As I walked around my empty room nude, I looked for that little extra something to help me celebrate. Jamie said this vibrator was my ticket to the League, and I wanted to make sure I 'punched' this ticket perfectly. On Sydney's shelf, I found a bottle of lotion, and I knew it was just what I was looking for. As aroused as I was, I didn't need any lubrication, but I welcomed the extra slipperiness. More importantly, I think I wanted to defile something that belonged to Sydney. For the first time since I came to college, I knew I was on equal ground with her. Stealing her lotion was just small payback for all the late night beer sessions her girlfriends had. I leaned against my dresser, and poured some of the lotion directly onto my breasts. It was as cold as the beer was, which is what I was trying to accomplish. In a way I was trying to recreate my afternoon rebirth, letting the cold lotion pour on my breasts. I shivered delightfully, enjoying the way my full breasts jiggled. Until today, I had never noticed just how beautiful my breasts were. I smoothed the lotion over and under my breasts, imagining how much the guys at the contest would love to do it for me. I was getting lightheaded already, so I sat down on my bed. I poured more lotion on my stomach, and rubbed the sweet smelling cream into my navel. I was proud of my stomach, and prouder of the fact that Morena thought it was pretty enough to show off. I daydreamed about how approving her smile was as I kneaded the lotion into my skin. Thinking of Morena sent a tremor through me, one that I certainly felt around my sex. Why? I can't explain. I just know that Morena and Jamie made me feel alive. No, they made me feel adult in ways I didn't allow myself to feel before. My body was tingling and I knew I owed it all to them. I squirted more lotion, this time directly on my light brown bush of hair. The shivers I felt from the cold lotion were instantly matched by the heat I was experiencing down there. I wondered if any beer got down there. Then I had a really dirty thought as I wondered if I could have gotten a guy to drink it from there. I laughed at my wicked idea, but I'm sure I blushed as well. Jamie's vibrator fit perfectly over my pointer finger. When I turned it on, I realized how silent it was. It was vibrating hard enough to make my finger tingle, but it made no noise what so ever. I smiled as I thought about useful it will become when I get more of my late night urges and Sydney is asleep. Tentatively, I touched my vibrator finger to my pussy, and slowly spread Sydney's lotion over my bush. Oh God! The sensations were incredible. I had never used a vibe before and now I was swearing to never go without one again. The lotion soothed my enflamed skin while the vibrator shook me awake. Slowly I centered my finger onto my pussy lips, gasping as the vibrations nibbled at my outer folds. I had to lean back; I just couldn't sit up straight while this magic was happening. My legs hanging off the bed, I spread them wider, so that my questing finger could part my fleshy gates and enter slowly into my burning garden. My other hand slid up my body and clutched one of my breasts. It was the only thing I could do with my hand, as I was almost writhing from the intensity of the vibrations. As my finger entered my sex, I felt my pussy clench around the treasured toy. I nearly curled up into a sitting position as I felt the vibrations from the inside of my sex. I didn't dare bring my finger up to my clit, I knew I would just scream I was so aroused. Instead, I just stroked my pussy slowly, letting my own secretions mix with the smooth lotion. I gasped frequently as my breathing struggled to keep up with the bliss I was experiencing. I closed my eyes and imagined all the men at the contest; imagined them here in this room watching me. My hand clenched so hard at my breast, I cried out at the pain but I didn't care enough to stop. I just had to clench something. My buttocks tightened as I felt the beginning waves of my orgasm approach.... Yes! Oh God Yes! I let loose a pitiful wail as the strongest orgasm of my life rippled through me. It was as if the orgasm vibrated in tune with my finger, quaking and shaking my entire body. My finger stopped moving as my body rode the sweet crest of my pleasure, riding it through the rising joy that comes from total physical release, and then slowly coasting down, relaxing and letting go of those muscles you didn't even know were tensed. As my toes were the last to relax, I shut off the precious vibrator Jamie gave me. I laid on my bed in darkness, the only light coming from the edges of the closed shades. Looking back on the day, it was hard to believe I went from embarrassing myself in front a guy this morning, to nude on my bed, masturbating with my roommate's lotion. Ok, maybe it was to be expected. I just knew I couldn't wait for next Friday. The end of part 1 Is it a good story? Should I write more? What do I do well? What do I suck at? Let me know honestly at Brenda5688@aol.com. No sucky people please. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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