Freshman Nymph CH-10

CHAPTER TEN

It had not been such a long time since Becky had been in the habit of
kneeling by her bed each and every night and saying her prayers. Now the
closest she seemed to come to devotional exercise was her recurrent "Thank
God for the Pill!"

And thanks to Marjie, too, for insisting that she visit the campus
clinic and get herself a prescription. The consultation with the doctor
there had been free, paid for by a portion of the rather steep tuition fee
Becky's parents had paid to the University. And in the campus infirmary
she could have her prescription filled at no charge. The University
preferred that its girl students not find themselves unexpectedly pregnant.

But what Becky enjoyed even more than the security being on the Pill
gave her was the delightful effect its use was having on her body. In
spite of all the assurances she had received to the contrary, she still
felt her tits were at least a little too small. But the Pill started
filling them out, bit by bit, and by the tenth week of school she found
herself possessed of breasts that would have required a 34B rather than her
old 34A bra, had she still been in the habit of wearing a bra.

Her hips too had gotten fuller. Marjie said it was due to the Pill, in
part, and in part to the extensive exercise Becky had been getting. No
matter what the exact cause, she was gratified to find her slim, lissome
figure becoming tantalizingly voluptuous at last.

Showing off the nuances of that shape had become one of Becky's favorite
pastimes, next to sex. She enjoyed wearing clothes that flattered her
almost-perfect little body--skirts that rode high on her legs, slacks that
hugged like skin the rounded contours of her hips, blouses that dipped
scandalously into her cleavage or let the mounds of her young fits preen
themselves through sheer fabrics. And, especially, she enjoyed wearing
such clothing in Dave Shearing's history class, watching him squirm as her
outfits alternately revealed and concealed the charms which he had fucked
himself out of.

For a while after giving Dave the final kiss-off, Becky returned to her
former unlimited promiscuity. She went to parties with Marjie and
invariably ended up in a bedroom with whatever guy she wanted. She went to
a coffeehouse at one of the campus religious organizations and at the break
went upstairs with the featured guitarist/singer and kept him so busy he
forgot to go back down and finish his performance.

But as she became more and more aware that she was eminently able to use
her body to attract any man who met her approval, she became simultaneously
more and more blasé about it. She wanted something new. As midterm time
approached, Becky found to her great surprise that she was sitting in the
dorm more and more often at night, fingering herself to orgasm as often as
not, unwilling or uninterested enough to go out and find a guy.

Midterm grades came out, and Becky opened her mailbox at the dorm one
morning to find a pair of letters addressed to her. One was from the
University's records department, informing her that halfway through the
first semester she had a total of five A's and one B in her classes. One
of the As was in Dave's class. Her work had been good enough that no
matter what he felt about her personally he couldn't penalize her scores.

The other letter was from the Inter-Sorority Council. It was a form
letter sent to all freshman girls with midterm averages of B or better,
advising them that they were eligible to take part in rush activities
sponsored by the various sororities on campus. Becky looked at it a long
moment, standing in the hall by the wallfull of tiny mailbox holes. When
she had first come to college, starry-eyed, naive, spiritually cherry, she
had thought longingly of the possibility of joining a sorority. Since her
sexual awakening she hadn't given the idealistic little girl's dream
another thought, but now, when she was really getting so tired of fucking
for amusement, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. At least, it would be
something new, and hopefully entertaining.

"Me?" Marjie asked with a snicker, later that day. "In a sorority?
You've got to be k**ding. I'm a freak, not a Greek. Besides," and she
frowned a little, "my grades weren't high enough. I'm having some trouble
in Math and Economics."

Becky shrugged. "I think I'm gonna give it a try," she said. "It might
be fun."

* * * *

Rush Week was a crowded round of activities for Becky. She attended
teas and mid evening parties at each of the nine sorority houses on campus,
met the active members, studied them, and weighed in her mind the merits
and demerits of each of the Greek-letter sisterhoods. At the end of the
week she went to the office of the Dean of Women, as per regulations, and
filled out a card marked with her first and second choices. Her part was
done now. The sorority girls would even now be congregating, assessing
each of the young women who had gone through Rush, deciding which ones they
thought suitable for membership in their clubs. If either of Becky's two
choices selected her as a potential member, she would be free to pledge and
eventually join that sorority. If not, she might try again next semester.

Three days went by. Becky opened her mailbox one morning before going
to classes and found two engraved invitations there, both addressed to her,
both inviting her to join their sisterhoods. Each included a personal note
from the chapter president, assuring Becky that she would be most welcome
and a very desirable addition to the membership.

Becky smiled. She looked at the two ornate greetings, then at the two
handwritten notes. Deciding abruptly, she found that the handwriting of
Audrey Mercer, president of the local chapter of Sigma Alpha, was prettier
than the penmanship (or, more properly, penwomanship) of Jenifer Dustin,
president of Kappa Delta. She sent Jenifer an apologetic note and to
Audrey a letter expressing great thanks.

"Jeesus," Marjie whistled. "Sig Alph is the ritziest sorority on
campus, Beck. It's expensive, and the girls are snotty as hell. Are you
sure you want to pledge them? Not that I wouldn't really give the hair off
my crotch to be joining them myself, of course, but I'm afraid you'll get
too high-class to stay friends with me."

"Shit," Becky smiled. "I can afford it, and besides, Fm joining the Sig
Alphs because I want to. If I don't like them, or if they try to run my
life for me, then they can go fuck themselves. I belong to me, and I'll do
what I want to do."

* * * *

The pledge class was small, only seven girls, because Sigma Alpha had
such high standards. The University required that girls pledging
sororities have certain grade averages at midterm, and so the girls
pledging with Becky were all potential Dean's list material. The sorority
required that its pledges meet rigorous standards of appearance and poise,
in order that socially unacceptable girls be kept out. As a consequence,
every active member was a striking beauty, cool and classy, and so were the
new pledges. Becky had long since lost her unease regarding her
appearance, and consequently she sat, in the sorority house parlor with her
pledgemates, feeling eminently self-confident and assured.

Audrey Mercer greeted the girls at their first meeting, expressing the
delight of Sigma Alpha to have them as pledges, expressing the hope that in
years to come they would all remember and uphold the standards of the
sisterhood.

She was a lovely girl, very tall, about five-nine in her bare feet,
Becky decided, with a superb figure and a lilting, musical voice. Audrey
would have had no trouble winning a Miss America competition, combining as
she did all-American brunette beauty, obvious self-assurance, and a
remarkable presence and grace that would have negated any flaws she might
possess. If there were any flaws in Audrey, Becky was unaware of them.
She only hoped that when she, like the older girl, was a senior here at
State, she too could so effortlessly project her own beauty and charm.

After a couple of weeks' pledging activities, Becky realized that her
own conceptions of the process bad been based entirely upon out-of-date
novels for girls. There were no cute pranks like crawling through town
with a flashlight in her mouth, like scrubbing the steps of the campus
library with a toothbrush. Instead, each of the pledge girls were required
to spend an evening a week serving as virtual housemaid at the chapter
house, greeting the guys who came over to visit the actives they were
dating, fixing drinks, lighting cigarettes, entertaining as best they
could. Becky was a fair-to-mid-ding singer, and she had had piano lessons
in her early teens, so on her nights of duty she frequently made music for
the guests. And she always had a smile for everyone, or a clever comment.
She was growing very popular among the active members, and even Audrey, so
cool and virtually unapproachable it seemed, always stopped to talk to
Becky whenever they met.

One afternoon Becky and some of the other pledges who had no classes at
that time were sitting in the parlor of the sorority house, talking and
laughing, treating themselves to cool glasses of gin and tonic, when Audrey
came downstairs.

"Girls," she said in her pleasant soprano, "I have an assignment for
you. We'll need you tomorrow from noon until very late."

A girl near Becky put down her drink and looked up at the tall Audrey
with concern in her eyes. "I don't think I can," she apologized. Audrey
stared at the girl with a look of near disdain. "I--uh, have an exam
tomorrow afternoon, I mean," she added hastily.

"Do you really want to pledge Sigma Alpha?" Audrey asked without a trace
of malevolence in her voice.

"Oh, yes!" the girl blurted. "More than anything else in the world."

"Good," Audrey noted. "Then don't be late. I should advise you,
though, that this will be an institutional absence and the school will
permit you to make up any work you might miss."

Becky spoke up. She had not the shy nervousness of the other girls, for
their whole lives were bound up in the prospect of eventually becoming
members in good standing of Sigma. Alpha, while Becky Ryan was taking part
in these rituals, as she did everything else, for the pleasure it might
bring her. "What, exactly, are we going to do tomorrow?" she asked.

Audrey smiled, as she always did when she spoke to Becky. "It's no
secret," she said. "The Sports Department is sponsoring a trip to State
for some of the leading high school football stars, as a means of inducing
them to come to this University and play ball here. The Sig Alph pledges
will be official hostesses and guides for tomorrow's contingent. All the
sororities take turns."

Becky nodded. She knew there was great rivalry among colleges for
outstanding athletic prospects, that some schools went all-out to get high
school talent to sign on with them. For her own part, she was totally
uninterested in any sports that didn't involve a bed and two bodies, but if
this was part of the pledging duties that had fallen to her, she would be
as cooperative and enthusiastic as necessary.

"So, then, girls," Audrey smiled, "I want all of you to be in Coach
Dietrich's office, in the Physical Education complex, tomorrow at noon
sharp. He'll outline everything for you, provide you with schedules,
assign you to a specific visitor, and take care of any questions you might
have."

That was also Becky's night as house hostess. There weren't many
visitors, though, and she spent most of the evening sitting in the parlor.
About ten-thirty one of the actives, a short lovely girl named Marcy,
entered the room and began to mix herself a drink at the bar.

Becky jumped to her feet. Actives weren't supposed to do such things
for themselves when a pledge was on duty. She hurried to the bar and
usurped the bottle Marcy was holding. The older girl smiled and took a
seat. In a moment Becky had brought her her drink and a small cocktail
napkin embossed with the sorority's Greek letters.

"Thanks, Beck," Marcy smiled. "Looks like a slow night Why don't you
fix yourself a drink and we can sit and talk. You must be pretty bored."

Becky smiled, did as instructed, and poised herself on the chair facing
Marcy.

"I have more of this tomorrow," she said, sipping demurely at her
whiskey sour. "All of the pledges have been to be hostesses for some high
school k**s coming to campus."

Marcy nearly chocked on her drink. When she had recovered herself, face
reddened from coughing, she gave Becky a funny look. "Football recruiting
time?" she asked, knowingly.

Becky nodded.

Marcy shook her head. "I remember when I pledged and we got the same
assignment." She settled back in her chair, eyes far away. "The guy I was
with--oh, he was something else! I think you're in for some hard work,
Becky."

"What do you mean?" Becky asked.

"I mean, part of your duties tomorrow will be to keep your companion
hot, healthy, and happy. You know that, don't you?"

"You mean, I'm supposed to fuck him?"

"Uh-huh," Marcy nodded. "If he wants to. And, as nearly as I'm aware,
they always want to. It's a big racket, you know. The k** comes up here
to check out the campus, the coach pimps him a girl, she gives him a jolly
roll in the sack, and they hope it makes him want to sign his life away to
good ol' State."

"I guess all the colleges do it," Becky observed. "Anyway, I don't
mind."

"You can say that now," Marcy grinned. "But tell me again after it's
over. I mean, some of those guys are hung like stud elephants. And some
of them are kinky, too. I remember, that guy I got stuck with--or, should
I say, by--"

"I don't believe I'll have any trouble," Becky smiled. "They don't make
them too big for me."

"Famous last words!" Marcy chuckled. She finished her drink and got up.
"Tell me that again when it's over, k**!"

* * * *

Seven lovely young freshman girls stood in Coach Dietrich's office,
circled halfway around his desk. He looked at them, wishing that he were a
football prospect himself. The Sig Alpha always sent a nice bunch of pussy
for his boys and he loved to see them come in. Every one of these girls
was a real dreamboat, and his eyes kept flickering from one to another, his
stare halting imperceptibly on curves of fine young tit, decorated by Sigma
Alpha pledge pins. He found that he couldn't quite bring himself to look
away from a real blonde stunner, a tall young thing with fine legs and hips
obvious in a set of velvet bellbottoms. The frankness of her smile was
what impressed him most. This girl must be a real hellcat in bed, and he
wished he could give her a try himself.

But hell, he thought, gotta save it all for the little sons of bitches
we're trying to snare. Little? Christ, those high school footballers were
getting bigger by the year, all bone and muscle and brawn. And State
needed them. If the football team had a bad season, it was Dietrich's ass
that went into the fire. If there were two bad seasons in a row, it was
Dietrich's ass that went out the door. So he had to recruit the best ball
players he could find, and experience had told him years ago that laying a
nice piece of cunt onto one of the young stars made him grateful, made him
think more favorably about signing with Dietrich.

"You all just look fine," he told the girls. "Just what we were hoping
for. Now. The boys are waiting in the gym. Each of you will be assigned
to one of them. You'll be his companion for the day. Take him around the
campus, show him everything of interest, answer his questions, make him
want to enroll here at State. After all, it is the best university in the
country, isn't it?" He looked round at their nodding heads, thought he
could discern just a trace of cynicism on the beautiful blonde's angel
face.

"Afterwards," he went on, "there'll be dinner for you and your partner
at the Coach House Restaurant. You'll have a car for your use today, of
course, and each guy has been given a room at the Sands Motel." He looked
round at their faces once more. "I assume all of you girls fuck." He
waited a moment, saw no especially deep blushes or protesting expressions,
noted the smile that curled the blonde's lips.

"Well," he said, "obviously I'm not going to tell you that you have to
fuck the guy you're with. That would be uncouth and i*****l besides. Some
of them may not even want to. It's been our experience, though, that
nearly all of them expect it. I suppose your president told you all about
that, didn't she? Okay. If the guy wants some ass to close out a perfect
day here at State, the athletic department and Sigma Alpha sorority would
both be very pleased if you'd just come across with it. Remember. You'll
be planting the seeds for a great football season next year if you can help
these fellows decide that State is where they want to go to school. Any
questions?'

* * * *

Becky's partner for the day was a brute of a guy named jay Masters. He
was over six feet tall, heavy-muscled, with shoulders that seemed to be as
broad as Becky was tall. His face was slightly coarse in its features, but
be was not unhandsome. Becky simply wasn't greatly impressed by the
overtly physical type. She liked men she didn't have to stoop in order to
kiss, but she preferred muscular development to lie between the legs. When
she saw Jay she breathed a tiny sigh of disappointment but she took his
hand with a smile. Might as well give the k**--only a year younger than
she was, she thought with a grin--might as well give the k** a good time.

Her hand seemed lost in his enormous paw as they walked round the
pleasant campus. The day was chilly, befitting the approach of winter, so
both wore their coats. But it wasn't cool enough to make the walk
uncomfortable, and the briskness of the air made Becky feel refreshed and
lively.

Jay wasn't much of a conversationalist, and Becky found herself doing a
great deal of the talking. She knew he wasn't resentful that she had been
assigned to him, for she had seen the gleam that sprang into his eyes when
she stepped forward to be introduced. It was the same kind of gleam that
had hit Coach Dietrich's eyes as he watched her in his office, the same
kind that Dave Shearing still got whenever Becky went to his class braless
or short-skirted or with her thighs and hips shimmering beneath see-through
pantyhose. Men found her attractive and she enjoyed it. Was there
anything more to life, really, than that?

She led him round the University grounds, showed him the Arboreum, where
the trees were bare now, the green of leaves and shrubs gone till spring's
awakening. She pointed out the older buildings on campus, showed him the
hail in which wounded had been cared for after a Civil War battle across
the state line. She guided him past the newer campus buildings, showing
him the ultra-modern architecture which seemed really not to clash so much
with the nineteenth century styling of so many of the other structures.
Some day even the ultra-modernity of 1974's additions to campus scenery
would look quite old-fashioned to other eyes.

They sat on a bench in the green. Becky took a bag of peanuts from bar
purse and fed the squirrels who scampered about fearlessly. She told him
the legend of the Harvard graduate who had helped to found State, and had
brought squirrels and saplings from Harvard Yard to decorate the new fount
of learning. Jay's eyes seemed to flicker with interest

"You know," he said, "I'll just bet that if you had a gun you could pop
off everyone of those squirrels without getting up from this bench. It's
different in the woods. There you have to walk around in the cold and the
wet and look for them. Here they come to you. Might be fun if I'd decide
to come here, and maybe bring along my .22 pistol."

She grimaced internally, managing a feeble chuckle as befitted her
duties. That was the most disgusting thing she had ever heard. The
squirrels weren't harming a soul. But then she had never understood the
point of sport hunting anyway. Call it sentiment, call it sanity, she
couldn't see the value of killing for amusement.

Afterwards they got into the car the sports department had provided for
their use today, and, while Jay drove around Henderson, Becky showed him
the various points of interest in town. She was growing bored with his
company, but she had several hours left in her commitment and she could see
no way around that. Maybe, she thought grimly, he was a better, more
interesting fucker than he was a person. She didn't see how he could help
but be.

Their dinner reservations were for seven-thirty at the Coach House. It
was the fanciest restaurant in Henderson and meals there were very
expensive. Becky bad never been there, but she knew that she would have to
look very good not to seem out of place, so at about six o'clock she parted
with Jay and went back to the dorm to get dolled up.

Marjie was in the room when she arrived. As Becky peeled out of her
daytime outfit, Marjie was sitting on the bed polishing her toenails.

"Big date tonight, huh?" she asked with a smile.

Becky nodded, and told Marjie what her assignment for today consisted
of. Marjie's mouth opened in shock.

"That's awful," Marjie said tonelessly. "That's the most horrible thing
I ever heard of. You mean, they're pimping you to the Sports Department
for the day?"

"Not exactly," Becky replied.

"What the hell do you call it?" Marjie exploded. "They send you over to
entertain these jocks and expect you to spread your legs for them. If
that's not pimping, I don't know what to call it. Jesus, Beck, at least
they ought to slip you a twenty for yourself."

"That's not funny."

"You're telling me it's not funny! I mean, I've done some freaky things
in my life, but I've never let anybody sell me."

Becky spun round and fixed Manic with a cutting glance. "Maybe you
haven't sold it because nobody was willing to pay for it. After all, who
buys water when they're giving wine away?"

Marjie's face contorted in anger. "You bitchy slut," she snarled. "I
really like that. You're getting duded up to go out and fuck some guy
because the madam at your sorority told you to, and you talk to me like I'm
a cheap whore of some kind. Well, let me tell you, Miss Sigma Alpha Slut
of 1974, when Marjorie Martin gets fucked, it's because she decided she
wants it. Maybe my cunt isn't as fancy as yours, but I own it."

Becky stormed out of the room and down the hail to the showers. She
threw off her robe and stood naked as she adjusted the water, oblivious to
the admiring glances from the guy who had been visiting his girl on this
floor and come down to take a leak. It had been a long time since Becky
Ryan had huddled terrified in the shower stall at the very thought of
having someone of another sex in the bathroom with her. She paid no
attention to the boy's presence.

God damn it, she thought as she basked in the spraying water, soaping
her body. Marjie had no right to talk to her like that. If she wanted to
do what she was preparing to do tonight, she would do it. This lovely body
belonged to her and not to anyone else. It wasn't pimping at all. She
simply wanted to try something new and this was the newest thing that had
been open for experimentation. If she hadn't cared to entertain the
visiting football prospect, she would have told Audrey to get screwed.

Sure, she added to herself, her teeth grinding furiously as she bathed,
that Marjie thinks she's so liberated and sexually enlightened. And at the
same time she thinks I'm a whore. Who's the bigger slut, anyway? Someone
who gives it away like free candy or someone who does what she wants to do,
when she wants to do it? I think Marjie is jealous because she's not
pledging Sig Alph, anyway.

Afterwards, scrubbed and shining~ Becky paddled down the hail in her
robe and slippers, pausing at her door to read a paper scotch-taped at eye
level:

COME ONE, COME ALL. ONE LUSCIOUS

SORORITY GIRL FOR SALE. NO PRICE OFFER

IS TOO LOW. BUY NOW WHILE IT'S

STILL TIGHT.

Becky said a very nasty word as she ripped the paper off the door. Her
fist slammed onto the doorknob and she entered the room ready for a
knockdown fight with Marjie. I'll show that bitch! she thought angrily.

But the room was empty. Marjie's bed was rumpled as though it had not
been long vacated, but there was no sign of Becky's roommate. Becky wanted
to destroy something of Marjie's, but she couldn't decide what. Oh, damn,
damn, damn! she mused silently, crumpling the offending sign and tossing
it onto Marjie's bed. She couldn't afford to waste her time with her
roommate's pettiness. Jay would drop by very shortly to pick her up for
dinner and she bad to dress and prepare herself.