Controlling Jennifer á Author: Reinker, D. S.

Controlling Jennifer IX: Waiting for Mark

"I wish I had a boyfriend." said Darlene, as she dropped her book to the
side and stared at the ceiling. She was lying on the bed, supposedly
studying, but the book was apparently so boring that she would put it down
every two minutes. Jennifer looked up from her Chinese Culture homework.

"So get a boyfriend." she told Darlene.

Darlene sighed. "I can't. Look at me....I'm fat."

"You're not fat!"

"Yes, I am." said Darlene. "I wish I had your body, Jennifer."

"Your body is fine, Darlene. Anyhow, if that's the way you feel, why don't
you go jogging with me? I always offer, but you never go."

Darlene leaned over and shook her head. "Some women just can't run, Jen. You
can, 'cause you look good running. But not me. I look ridiculous. I look
like I haven't run a day in my life."

"You gotta start sometime." Jennifer said. "Come on, go with me tomorrow. It
won't be as bad as you think. I'll run with you the entire way, ok?"

Darlene just turned on her back and sighed. "I could, but it wouldn't get me
a boyfriend." She picked up her book, and started reading again. Jennifer
watched her for a moment, then turned back to her homework.

Not that she was having any more luck than Darlene. Her mind kept returning
to the same thought. Where was Mark? Why had he disappeared that day? It had
been almost a week, and she had heard nothing from him. Every time the phone
rang, she expected it to be him. Every time she went running in the morning,
she expected to see him waiting for her in the park. And thus far, she had
always been disappointed.

And as always, her mind told her the answer. Call him. She had checked for
'Antonio's in the school phone directory, and there he was. Marcus Robert
Antonio. Extension 6072. All she had to do was pick up the phone and call
him.

But always, just as her mind started to consider this option, she would
abandon it. Why was she calling him, anyway? Why did she want to talk to
him? True, they had become more friends than master/slave over the weekend,
but that didn't necessarily cancel out the month of anxiety he had provided
her with beforehand. No, if he was gone, good riddance! She could get on
with her life.

At least for another five minutes, at which point her eyes would once again
drift from studying the Boxer rebellion to studying the phone, and wondering
why he had left her in the park the saturday before. But she would never
call him. No, she was better off without him.

Jennifer had last seen Jacob the tuesday before. She had been walking down
the men's hall, when suddenly he was there, glaring out at her from his
doorway. His hand was bandaged, and his eyes were strange. A little too
dark, a little too intense. The complete opposite of the clumsy inebriated
expression that had been on his face the friday before. "Jennifer." he
hissed.

Jennifer froze. He wouldn't try anything, she told herself, not in the
middle of the hall. Still, fear clamped onto her heart, and, her mind
racing, she cursed herself for not telling Mark to do something. Mark could
change Jacob. Just with a couple words.

"Jennifer." Jacob repeated. "What happened on friday night?" His eyes
searched her face, burning into her. God, he's changed, she thought to
herself. He used to be so friendly, so lively and cheerful. Now he was dark
and scowling, and his expression reminded Jennifer of the sky before a
thunderstorm. Have I done that to him? she asked herself. Has Mark? She made
a note to tell Mark about Jacob the next time she saw him. Mark could change
Jacob back.

"You mean, you can't remember?" she asked. It was possible, after all, he
HAD been drunk.

"Oh, I remember just fine. I remember too well. I just wanted to get your
side of the story." He paused, appraising her. "Who was he, Cailly?"

"Who was who?"

"Don't fuck with me!" he snapped. His eyes were wild. My god, what's wrong
with him? she thought, stepping back, ready to bolt. But Jacob seemed to
reign in his temper, and looked upon her with cold determination. "Who was
the guy you were with? The guy..." his voice shuddered. "The guy with the
voice. Who was he, Jenny?"

"I don't know who you mean." she hedged. "What guy? You were drunk,
Jacob..."

"Don't lie to me! Tell me who he is, Jennifer! Tell me!" he snarled, and
took a step forward. Jennifer would have bolted, should have, in fact, but
at that moment, all she could think of was what an asshole Jacob was. And
she got mad.

"Jacob, stay away from me or you'll regret it." she said. Her voice was very
low and even, surprisingly even. Jacob's eyes widened, and she could see him
back down, could see him pulling his rage back inside himself. His eyes went
dark and dangerous again.

"We'll see." he said, and he pulled back into his room and shut the door.

Jennifer was left shivering. She felt like talking to Mark right then and
there, to tell him about Jacob, and get him to do something. It wasn't that
she feared just for herself; although it was startling to realize, she
feared for Mark too. Mark was so used to relying on his power...would he be
prepared if Jacob made a sudden and surprise attack?

In the end, as Jennifer made her way slowly down the stairs, she became lost
in uncertainty. She couldn't decide what to do. And finally, she did
nothing. But as she walked, a thought entered her head. Monsters beget
monsters, she thought, and this phrase kept returning to her the rest of the
day.

"This book is SO boring!" wailed Darlene, heaving the book across the room
into the closet door. Jennifer blinked. Back to reality. She turned, and
couldn't help smiling at the image of Darlene staring in frustration at the
battered book.

"It's your fault." Jennifer said. "You shouldn't have taken a class with the
name 'Role of the Elderly in Pre-industrial France.'"

"Had to." muttered Darlene, sulking. "Needed to satisfy the European culture
core requirement." She picked up a stuffed animal from her bed, the austere
looking walrus she called Jefferson, and started to toss it up and down.
"When are you going running tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Probably in the morning, around 9:30 or so."

Darlene sighed, as if the next words out of her mouth would cause her
physical pain. "Maybe I will go with you." she said reluctantly. "I really
need to get in shape, and I suppose I need to stop putting it off."

" 'Your one true love loves you for yourself, not your body.' " quoted
Jennifer. Darlene grimaced; it was a favorite saying of Kristi, one of their
Resident Advisers, and they were all sick of hearing it because Kristi was
absolutely gorgeous and it seemed had never had to worry about attracting
guys at all. Jennifer looked at Darlenes face as it bobbed up and down,
following the rise and plunge of Jefferson, and she decided Darlene was not
unattractive. She was somewhat plump, but she had a cute face, and curly
hair that bounced like tiny springs whenever she moved. Of course, thought
Jennifer, maybe guys saw things different.

"That's easy for Kristi to say." said Darlene. "They have to notice you
before they can love you." Jefferson went up again, came down again.

"Yeah, and then it's still a mess. It never gets perfect."

Darlene grinned at that. She had a nice, lively grin, too. "Yeah! 'Cause
even when you've found the perfect guy, you still gotta live with him." She
tossed Jefferson again, this time missing him as he came down. He bounced
against the bed spread. "Maybe I'll just stay single and get rich. Maybe
guys aren't worth it."

"Sounds good." Jennifer smiled. "Maybe if you give up guys, I'll be able to
get some homework done."

Darlene grinned again. "Oh, that's how it is, huh? Ok, I'll leave you in
peace...I'm gonna go check if Amy is still awake." She slipped on a pair of
slippers and padded out the door in the direction of Amy's room.

Jennifer was left by herself. She sighed. "Who am I kidding?" she said to
herself. "Darlene's not the only reason I'm not getting anything done." She
looked at the phone, and was about to reach for it, when she made herself
stop. Instead, she made herself reach for her pencil. "Don't." she told
herself. "Let Mark call you. He likes to be in control so much, fine, let
him be in control. As for you, get on with your life." Good advice. She
started writing.

At 9:30, Darlene and Jennifer, dressed in t-shirts and shorts, walked side
by side through the park and to the track. Jennifer had planned on taking it
easy, and just having them both run a slow mile. But even that was too much
for Darlene; after about two laps, with the pace slowing more and more as
time went on, she finally stopped and refused to run any further. A final
compromise was reached with she agreed to walk two more laps with Jennifer,
so that they could at least say they had done a mile, even if they hadn't
run the whole thing.

So they walked around the track and talked, mostly about school and other
people. "What happened to Jacob's hand?" Darlene asked as they neared the
end of the mile.

"Hmm?"

"His hand is all bandaged. I asked him what had happened, but he wouldn't
tell me. 'Ask Jennifer.' he said."

Jennifer frowned. "It was his own fault." she said. "Remember the dance
friday night? He showed up drunk, and tried to get in a fight with the guy I
was dancing with. Said I was his girlfriend and all that."

"What an asshole." said Darlene with disgust. "So what happened?"

Jennifer thought about lying. "Mark happened." she finally said. "It's kind
of hard to explain, but Mark intervened and told them to take it outside. So
anyhow, they went out to fight, and Jacob got his hand burnt or something."

"Wow! Mark saved you?"

"Sort of. Don't look at me like that, it wasn't like that at all. I think
maybe he just wanted to see a good fight." That was the truth, thought
Jennifer. And she had been thinking of calling this guy? Uh, uh. Good
riddance.

"Sounds like I missed the action that night." Darlene said.

"You didn't miss much." said Jennifer.

Afterwards, they were walking back through the park, when Jennifer saw a
familiar face walking towards them. She suppressed an urge to run and hide.
It was Francisco. As he neared them, he called in greeting "Hi, Marcie!"

"Who's he talking to?" whispered Darlene.

"Shh." said Jennifer. "I'll explain afterwards." She waved. "Hi, Francisco!"
she called back. She could feel Darlene's wide grin at her back.

Francisco neared. "I was wondering if I would ever see you again." he said
cheerfully.

"Francisco...I have a confession to make." Jennifer took a breath. "My name
isn't Marcie. It's Jennifer."

"Jennifer?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry...I told you my name was Marcie because...well, you can
probably figure out why."

Francisco nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I can. So, Jennifer. Nice to meet
you." he smiled. "I was hoping I would find you around here."

Jennifer opened her mouth to say something else, when she felt a poke behind
her. "Oh, I'm sorry. This is my roommate Darlene."

"Hi, Darlene." said Francisco. Jennifer couldn't help but smile at the
friendliness in his voice. Francisco's a good guy, she decided.

"Hi." said Darlene.

"Well, Marcie...ah...JENNIFER...since I've found you again, I get a chance
to ask you out. Want to get dinner and catch a movie on friday?"

Jennifer stopped to consider. A voice called out inside her: what about
Mark? But she pushed it back. What ABOUT Mark? She didn't owe him anything.
"Ok." she said to Francisco. "Sounds like fun. Want my number?"

He grinned. "Oh, I get your number this time, Marcie?"

Jennifer felt herself blushing. Ridiculous, she thought...she had kissed
him, let him see her breasts in public, all without blushing...why blush
now? "Uh huh." she said. "You get my number now. 8621...can you remember it,
or should I write it down?"

"8621. I can remember it. See you on friday, Jennifer." he said.

"Bye." said Jennifer. He walked away.

"Bye!" called Darlene. "Nice meeting you!" As they started walking again,
Darlene turned to her, excited. "Wow! Jennifer, what's gotten into you? That
makes four different guys I've seen after you in the last week! I swear,
suddenly you've become Miss Popularity!"

Jennifer felt like saying that guys liked a slutty woman, but held her
tongue. That was the truth after all, wasn't it? She had met all those guys,
Jacob, Derrick, now Francisco, all because she had been willing to let
herself be seen as a sex object. Sex, wonderful way to attract men, she
thought to herself with a note of bitterness. All except for Mark. She had
met Mark because he had wanted her to act like a sex object.

" 'Your one true love loves you for yourself, not your body.' " Jennifer
quoted.

"Uh huh." Darlene nodded with a grin. "You're starting to get worse than
Kristi."

Jennifer shook her head. "I don't feel that popular. I feel like a piece of
meat."

"Aw. What's wrong, Jennifer? Guys pressuring you, or something?" she peered
at Jennifer. "Who's been pressuring you?"

No one, I've been giving in without any pressuring at all, she thought. But
Jennifer couldn't tell Darlene that. She was Jennifer's roommate, but that
didn't mean she wouldn't call Jennifer a slut just like everyone else. Nice
girls just didn't give strangers handjobs in the middle of parks.

Darlene had become stern. "Jennifer Cailly, tell me who has been pressuring
you. Is it Mark?"

"No one." sighed Jennifer. "No, not Mark. I just feel like that's why I've
been getting so much attention lately. Guys just want me to sleep with
them."

Darlene eased out of her rigid motherly mode and shrugged. "So, what else is
new? If I remember correctly, you had frat guys hanging around you in a
swarm around the beginning of the year. You handled them well enough.
Besides, I guess I don't know Francisco, but he seemed like a nice guy. Hey,
you haven't told me why he called you Marcie!"

Jennifer, fortunately, had planned for this question since friday night. She
had expected it to be asked about Derrick, but apparently Darlene had
forgotten certain details about that night, probably lost in an alcoholic
mist. "I told him my name was Marcie first time I met him. You know, I
wasn't sure if I wanted him to know my real name. I wasn't sure what kind of
guy he was." She thought about Francisco. Darlene was right, he WAS a nice
guy...and just because Jennifer had about thrown her body at him didn't mean
that was all he wanted.

What would Mark think if he knew she was going out with Francisco. Would he
care at all? Maybe he wanted her to be with Francisco. Maybe that was why he
had left her. Maybe Mark was gone for good.

Somehow, she couldn't believe this.

Jennifer dressed casually for her date, wearing a pair of snug but
comfortable jeans and a deep red shirt under a denim jacket. A pair of
Darlene's earrings, the ones that happened to perfectly match her red shirt,
finished off the picture. "You look great!" gushed Amy. "Dressed to kill!"

"Thanks, Amy." Jennifer smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She liked
the way she looked. "What are you all going to do?"

Darlene was lounging on her bed, and another taller girl named Maya was
sitting in her seat. "Probably screw around in the dorm." she said. "None of
US have dates." She grinned.

"Is he going to come to your room?" asked Amy excitedly. Amy got excited
whenever anyone had a date. It was her way.

"No, I said I would meet him down in the lobby. Actually I'd better go see
if he's there now." Jennifer grabbed her wallet and turned to leave.

"No!" Amy bounced to intercept her. "What if he's not there? I'll go check,
okay!" And without waiting, Amy had bounced out the door and was racing down
the hall.

Jennifer sighed, and sat down on her bed. "You feel jittery?" asked Maya.

"Not really." said Jennifer, and it was the truth. After all she had been
through with Mark, a first date seemed strangely relaxing.

Amy shot into the room. "I saw him! He's down there watching TV. Darlene,
he's exactly like you described him!"

Jennifer scooped up her wallet and slid it into the inside pocket of her
jacket. "Then I guess I'm off." she said. "Have fun, you guys."

"You, too!" they all chimed, and then Jennifer was out the door, ignoring
the double entendres and laughter that predictably followed. As she walked
down the men's hall, she felt creepy, especially walking by Jacob's door. It
felt like she was being watched. She wrote it off as anxiety about Jacob,
and made her way down the stairs.

Sure enough, Francisco was there. "Hey, Jennifer!" he greeted her as she
approached. "You look great!"

"Thanks." she smiled. "Sorry if you waited."

"Don't worry about it. I just got here a second ago. Want to go?" Jennifer
nodded, and he led the way out the door and to his car. It was a beat-up
blue Toyota Celica. "The Francisco-mobile!" he proclaimed proudly.

"Wow." said Jennifer.

"Yeah, I know, it's not much, but first cars never are." Francisco let her
in, and they were off.

Dinner was nice. They went to a place called Louisa's, a small diner-type
restaurant Jennifer had never been to before. Francisco talked a lot, and
told a lot of jokes. Most of them were at least enough to make Jennifer
smile. By the end of the meal, Jennifer had decided Francisco was a fun guy
to be with.

They went to the theater near the campus, which was a big twelve-plex that
seemed to make its money mostly off of the college students. He asked her
what she wanted to see, and Jennifer told him anything was fine. So they saw
"Army of Darkness." Francisco had seen it three times, Jennifer not at all,
but he said it was a fun film. The audience was very loud, cheering and
catcalling and basically having a good time. Halfway through the film,
Francisco put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. He was very
confident in the way he did it, and Jennifer leaned against him.

Then his other hand slid upward, and almost absent-mindedly started to rub
her arm. It slowly made its way up her arm, and Jennifer could see where it
would go if she didn't stop it. But she couldn't decide whether to stop it;
she usually didn't like to do much more than kiss on the first date, but how
could she protest, after what they had done in the park? Inevitably,
Francisco's hand reached her right breast, and he started to fondle it
through her shirt.

Jennifer looked around. The theater wasn't very crowded, except for a loud
gathering near the front, and no one was paying any attention to them.
Jennifer had taken off her jacket, and had it laying over her lap. At first,
she felt Francisco's fondling without emotion, letting him play with her
breast and feeling it from a distance, as if it wasn't attached to her. He
must have felt her coldness, because he leaned in towards her. "Are you
okay?" he asked uncertainly.

Jennifer was swept with confusion. What to say? How could she stop him, when
the time before she had practically begged him to touch and feel her body.
Come on, Jennifer, she told herself silently. Get into it. She pushed a
smile onto her face, and nuzzled into Francisco. With her other hand, she
pushed his hand back onto her breast.

He happily started to fondle her again, pushing his finger down the cup of
the bra and twiddling her nipple. It hardened immediately. Jennifer
concentrated, trying to force herself to enjoy it. After all, this was the
way he knew her, right? Besides, she had enjoyed it before...she just needed
to get herself in the right frame of mind. She tried to put images of
pleasure into her head. You are enjoying this, she told yourself. You are
enjoying it.

He leaned over to her. "You like that?" he asked.

"Uh huh." she lied.

He leaned in closer, and moved his hand down her body, until he was sliding
it between her legs, clumsily pressing her slit through her jeans. She was
surprised at how dry she was; on the whole, she was surprised at how distant
she felt from her body. She felt utterly passionless. So he wouldn't know
anything was wrong, she scissored her legs open slightly and gave him more
access to her crotch.

He slipped his hand up and down, rubbing against the denim. This is wrong,
thought Jennifer. I would've never allowed anyone to do this before. Not
before Mark.

"Are you okay?" asked Francisco.

"I'm fine...that just feels good." And to keep him distracted, she slipped
her own hand between his legs and ran her fingertips over the hard bulge in
his pants. She could feel it straining against the fabric, and Francisco
closed his eyes and sighed slightly. Jennifer slid her hand over his shaft,
and that seemed to keep his mind occupied. Meanwhile, his hand probed her
own crotch, and she could feel the wetness finally start to form between her
legs.

Francisco leaned over and kissed her. It took her by surprise, and she broke
out of it before she had intended. He tried again, and this time she met him
halfway; they kissed for a moment, their tongues shyly darting against each
other. His lips were very firm and unyielding, and his kisses were very hard
and passionate.

Even so, after he kissed her for the fifth or sixth time, and as they leaned
against each other, his hand brushing her breasts, a loud burst of laughter
filled the theater. Jennifer broke the kiss to see what was happening on the
screen; there appeared to be some battle sequence occurring. She watched for
a second, before Francisco moved in and kissed her again.

This time, she pushed him away. "Francisco...come on, let's watch the
movie." She could feel his disappointment, coming from him like a tangible
wave. "After." she promised him, and even as she said it, she wondered if
she would keep her promise.

And After soon came. Francisco put his arm around her as they left the
theater, and led her to the Francisco-mobile. They drove, and they drove,
and after a while, Francisco stopped the car, and they were off in some
out-of-the-way woodsy area.

"Here we are." he said.

Here we are, Jennifer's mind echoed. What now, Miss Cailly?

Now you let him screw you, came the response.

Following Francisco's suggestion, they moved to the back seat. He moved in
to kiss her, and this time they kissed for a long while. His hands pressed
at her back, but soon they moved freely at her chest, unbuttoning her shirt
even as they were locked in embrace. He opened her shirt, and cupped her
breasts gently, lifting them in his hands as if amazed by their existance.
Jennifer's red shirt fell discarded, and quickly, her blouse fell too. She
made him stop, and removed Darlene's earrings so they wouldn't snag on
anything. Then she returned to his touch. He played with her breasts,
fingering her nipples and making them harden. He was at least gentle; she
liked a gentle touch, and that more than anything was making the whole thing
endurable. He pushed her backwards to lie against the armrest, and started
to kiss his way down her body.

His tongue was wet and slick against her breasts, and she could feel it
rough against her sensitive nipples. For some reason, an image of a dog
appeared in her head and wouldn't go away. He's licking me like a dog.
Lapping at me like he's going to eat me up. He nuzzled the soft undersides
of her chest, pressing his lips against the point where her breasts met the
rest of her body. She sighed, and let him continue.

He made his way down, tonguing her belly button for an extra long time, as
if to tease her. Then he was fumbling with the snap to her jeans. What the
heck, she thought, so far I've given him everything else. And she reached
down, and helped him undo the clasp.

He pulled at the top of the jeans, and she lifted her butt to help him pull
them off. Her panties went next, falling in a heap with the rest of her
clothes. Jennifer looked down, her mind focusing intently on her exposed
pubic triangle. So black in the light, like a little arrowpoint - enter
here. Francisco started to strip himself, pulling off his shirt and
unsnapping his jeans. Jennifer watched him, waiting.

His penis sprung free, rock hard, like she had remembered it from before.
Maybe bigger. Francisco's hand probed between her legs; she could tell he
was experienced by the way he quickly found her clit and fingered her until
she was good and wet. Gasping, laying back, waiting for him to penetrate
her.

He'll expect me to reciprocate, she thought. Here I've been sitting here,
like a corpse...like a bad lover. She took his penis in her hand and slipped
her hand up and down it. With her other hand, she cupped his balls, lifting
them and then letting them fall. Feeling the coarse hair on them. He moaned,
and his fingers slid over her pussy lips.

"Condom." she said. He nodded, and fumbled out a little plastic square,
clumsily producing the circular tube. Jennifer watched as he slid it on.
First it goes in that, then it goes in me, she thought. Then we go home.

Fortunately, she was wet enough that he slid in easily enough. She could
again feel his experience as he expertly maneuvered deep within her, and she
could feel her pussy clench tightly around him. He was in her, moving, a
living thing, pumping back and forth deep inside her vagina. A piece of man.
And he was good at what he was doing. He managed to rub against her swollen
clit as he pumped in and out, and she found herself building toward an
orgasm. She felt it very analytically as it came, idly feeling the pleasure
build-up. He came before she did, judging by his moaning and his spasming
cock. She was afraid he would give up then, but he pumped at her even as he
softened, somewhat ineffectively, but effective enough that her orgasm hit
soon after his. She happily rode the wave of pleasure. Take me away, she
thought. But after her shuddering climax was over, she was still in the car,
and Francisco was rolling down the window to toss away the jizz- filled
plastic. Jennifer closed her legs, and pressed them tightly together. She
felt lost.

They dressed. Francisco joked around, but Jennifer was suddenly feeling very
tired. All she wanted to do was get back to her room. The ride back was
sober and quiet.

"I hope you had a good time." he said, as the car idled in the parking lot.

"I did." she told him, and they kissed.

"Want me to walk you to your room?"

"No. That's fine. I can make it." She got out of the car, and returned his
wave as he drove away.

Darlene was asleep, and Jennifer quietly gathered up a nightgown and went to
the bathroom to take a shower. As she let the water rush down her body, she
leaned against the wall, more tired than she should have been, and wondered
what she was becoming.

And once again, she wondered why Mark had left her.

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Controlling Jennifer X: Voice of Reason

For about a week, whenever someone knocked on the door, Jennifer would
automatically think it was Mark. She would slowly slide to the door,
preparing herself for his face, her mind furiously trying to figure out what
to say. And then she would open the door, and it would be Amy, or Darlene
after forgetting her key, or someone else, and Jennifer would feel a strange
double feeling, let-down and relieved, all at the same time. And then, one
day, she opened the door without even thinking that it might be Mark. It
wasn't, and soon she stopped expecting him.

Francisco asked her out again, and she found herself making an excuse,
telling him she really needed to study in the library, and she was sorry but
maybe another time. She did it instinctively, not particularly sure why at
the time except that she really didn't FEEL like it. Afterwards, she probed
her mind, to decide on the real reason she didn't want to go out with him.
About the best she could come up with was that he didn't excite her that
much; she had first approached her as a target for one of Mark's games, and
she wasn't sure she could think of him as anything else.

What if Mark really was gone? What if she had really seen the last of him?
Could she go back to her normal life again? Jennifer honestly didn't know.
She had been in complete control of her life before he came, in control of
all things: herself, her social life, her studies. She could pretty easily
get back in control of her social life; it was all a matter of telling
Francisco that she wanted to take it slower, and then letting things run as
before, with her not doing anything she didn't feel like. If Francisco
didn't like that, well, it was all right; Jennifer didn't need him anyway.
She wasn't like Darlene. She really didn't feel any need to have a
boyfriend. School was also no problem. Her study habits had been suffering
from distraction, but without Mark, she thought that would soon fade.

But what about herself? Mark had awakened something in Jennifer, a certain
restlessness. A desire to rush into things against her better judgement. A
desire to lose control. She was addicted to the feeling, the
I-can't-believe-I'm-doing-this feeling. He had addicted her to it. It was
like a beer commercial she had seen as a freshman in high school. It was a
typical commercial, filled with happy beautiful people, but the image that
had caught Jennifer's mind was of a pretty dark-haired lady in a silver
dress, letting herself be pulled down a hallway. Apparently, she was going
to some party; at least that's the way she was made up. A handsome man was
pulling her along behind him, and as they rushed down the hall, the lady
turned and smiled at the camera. At Jennifer. And her smile seemed to say, I
don't know where he's taking me, but I'm sure we'll have a great time once
we get there. Jennifer had been enchanted by the image at the time, but
hadn't been able to figure out exactly why until she had met Mark.

Submissiveness. The word itself was nasty, something Jennifer had been
trained all her life to reject. Never let yourself be cowed, her father had
told her. You can have anything you want as long as you don't let anything
stand in your way. For years, she had approached all things with this
attitude. All things including sex.

But with Mark she discovered a strange paradox; even while she was
submitting to his words, she had power over him. The lines between
submission and domination were blurred, and he was almost as much a slave to
her actions as she was to his commands. In the end, it didn't feel so much
like she was giving him control, it felt more like she was completely losing
all control, giving her puppet-strings to her body and its desires, and
letting it run rampant. For a young girl who had made certain she was
completely in control all her life, it was a very different feeling. Not
necessarily a good feeling, but a very tempting one.

And then came Tuesday night. She was lying in bed, tossing and turning, not
able to sleep. It was late, and Darlene was sleeping soundly beside her, but
Jennifer just couldn't sleep. She felt that feeling in her body. A desire to
let herself lose control, and act against her better judgement. To go and do
something absolutely insane. Something she would never think of doing if she
was thinking clearly. To fight against it was a losing battle from the
beginning. But she tried. Tried and failed.

She got dressed in the dark, quietly so she wouldn't wake Darlene. And all
the time she was thinking to herself: why am I doing this? This is
absolutely mad! But she seemed powerless to stop the feeling within her. To
go to sleep at that point would have been anticlimactic.

She slipped on a jacket, and was out the door.

The dorm was dark and quiet, except for a few insomniacs watching t.v. in
the lobby. Jennifer slipped out the door without them seeing her. It was
cold outside, and she shivered. Last chance to back out, she thought, but
she couldn't and knew it. The farther she went, the more it seemed like a
crime to turn back. She walked out from the dorm.

Her mind was dancing crazily from one thought to the next, noticing every
detail around her. The night seemed alive, somehow more vibrant than before.
Or maybe she was just more sensitive to it. Part of her was scared, of the
dark and those who hid within it, but that part was suppressed by a sense of
destiny. She felt like she was no longer in control of her actions, like her
mind was the prisoner of her body, and her body was being pulled along by
some force unknown to her. Without being fully aware of where she was going,
she soon found herself at the pond between the schools two administration
buildings. It was an artificially created pond, stocked with green water
lilies and millions of tiny guppies. At night, small lights on the side of
the pond gave the whole area a hazy white surreal glow. Jennifer stood in
this glow for a moment, trembling, looking down at the pond.

It penetrated her trance that she was also illuminated in the glow, and,
still not understanding what she intended to do, she glanced around
nervously, then headed over to the rocks on the right side of the pond. They
served as a back drop to the entire pond, a wall of gradually ascending
rocks that rose behind it to tower beside the adminstration building.
Jennifer scrambled up onto a low rock, then climbed onto the next highest
rock, until she was behind the pond on a platform of rock, about eight feet
over the surface of the water. The platform was big enough that she could
sit down, and she did, her back pressed against the rough rock behind her.
She trembled, and it was more than the chill of the night. She was in the
shadows, and was content that she wasn't that visible from below. But she
still shivered. Now came the big step, and she wasn't sure she could really
go through with it.

But a delirious feeling of daring and anticipation rushed through her as she
contemplated it. She breathed deeply, and started to untie her shoes. They
don't make a difference, she thought. I'm still decent if they're off.

But soon they were off, and so were her socks, and the anticipation was
soaring and plunging through her. She looked around, making sure for one
last time that no one was spying on her. Then, her fingers trembling, she
unsnapped her jeans.

She took them off slowly, awkwardly, and the wind rushed in to embrace her
bare legs. Her breathing was fast and nervous, and she tried to sooth her
frightened mind. No one is here, she told herself. No one can see you. Her
fingers ran against the fabric of her panties, rubbing against the rough
lace. Now she was indecent. You couldn't see anything, but that didn't
matter. She traced the line of her slit through the cloth, and felt a shot
of momentary pleasure until it was washed away by the cold fear that she was
being watched. She glanced around. No one. Just paranoia.

She pulled off her jacket, and put it in the growing stack of clothes. Her
fingers gripped the edge of her t-shirt. This was it. No bra underneath to
hide her. Once this was off, she was officially naked. She held her breath
and slipped it off.

The feeling was incredible! Both the night on her nude body, and the rush
that went through her soul. I'm actually doing this! she kept thinking to
herself, over and over. She pressed against the rock behind her, the rough
stone digging into her bare back, and she looked in wonder at her naked
breasts jutting out from her body, open to the night.

Her panties joined the pile of clothes, and she sat, shivering, feeling the
cold stone against her butt. She pulled her legs to her, squeezing them,
running her fingers from her ankles to her thighs, as if making sure she was
actually bare. Her legs felt long and smooth, and Jennifer extended them
away from her. This increased her feeling of exposure, and her mind fought
between fear and thrill. Her pubic triangle was dark in the shadow, and she
slipped her finger along the rough strands of hair. To be REALLY exposed, a
voice in the back of her head reminded her, you would have to spread your
legs. After all, that's the classic position of the decadent woman.
Jennifer, trembling, started to scissor open her legs. But no, if she really
wanted to do it, she would have to turn and face the pond. That way, anyone
who stood there and faced the right direction would be able to look right at
her pussy.

She inched around ninety degrees, and pressed her back against the concrete
wall of the administration building. My god, I'm crazy, she thought. Mark's
gone, but that doesn't matter, I've got him now in my head, telling me
things to do. For some reason, this thought struck her as funny, and she
fought off a giggle. 3, 2, 1, go for it, Jenn. And she pulled open her legs,
spreading them before the world.

A couple seconds, while she looked around dazed, making sure no one was
actually watching her. Then she let her gaze fall downward, and her
heartbeat raced to see her exposed slit. She closed her eyes, and let her
hand fall between her legs, probing herself. She was still pretty dry, but
that was all right, it was hard to get turned on in the cold, and the thrill
she felt was more than sexual. She dug her finger as far in herself as she
could, then slowly moved it around, feeling the soft warmth both around her
and within her. Her thumb brushed against her clit, sending small, cold
bursts of pleasure through her. It would be impossible to masturbate to any
sort of peak; she was just too cold and nervous to even fake it. Instead,
she pressed her hand against her pussy, feeling the soft contours of it
against her palm, caressing it gently in a nervous massage.

What now? She looked uneasily down into the pond. The water looked cold, and
she wasn't sure she could actually go through with it. What if someone saw
her? Jennifer pulled back into the shadows, squeezing her arms against her
breasts. It felt strange, to feel the bare tips of her nipples against her
arms; she was used to the fabric. Once more, she looked down into the pond,
into the lightly illuminated depths. She thought about her naked body wet
and gleaming in the flourescent lights. An image of herself standing
knee-deep, like a water nymph, wet and innocent, while trickles of pond
water dripped down her breasts and jumped off her nipples. Then she thought
about herself, wet, cold, and vulnerable, captured in the glowing lights. I
can't, she thought. It's just too much.

But now, once her clothes were off, she almost couldn't bring herself to put
them back on. She wanted to enjoy her nakedness as long as she could. The
stars were twinkling in a relatively clear sky above her, and Jennifer
leaned back against the rock wall and watched them. All the while, she felt
the cold night goosebumping her skin.

Finally, paranoia struck her, more than before. She thought she heard
rustling. Maybe a security guard. Maybe a psycho. She scrambled back into
her clothes, and was off into the night like a thief.

The walk back was numb in her mind, passing before she realized it, and she
found herself settled in bed, hot and sweating despite the cool night air,
her heart beating furiously underneath the covers. I can't believe I just
did that, she thought. And she felt the rush.

And so Jennifer didn't know what to do anymore. Mark had left her, but he
was not completely gone from her life. His voice still spoke in her head,
the voice of temptation, telling her things she shouldn't do, making her
think about doing them.

And then, two weeks after she had last seen him, on the friday night she
might have spent with Francisco if she had wanted, Jennifer opened the door,
and there was Mark. It was three days after her night escapade. She hadn't
expected to see Mark. Yet there he was.

She regarded him with shock. She had told herself she might never see him
again, but had never really believed it. And here he was. His hair was
somewhat disheveled, and his eyes were dull. As Jennifer looked at him, she
felt something twinge inside her, like someone had tapped her heart with an
icicle, and she wished he would grin his confident grin. The way he
looked... he looked like a haunted man. Like someone who had been thinking a
little too much.

"Mark." she said. "I was wondering if I would see you again."

"Did you want to?" he asked quietly. She could almost barely hear him.

"Where did you go? I looked for you afterwards..." she let her voice fade,
hoping he would supply the rest.

He did not. She heard him speak, felt his power catching hold of her, and
she realized what he was saying a split-second before he completed his
statement. "Jennifer, forget me." She opened her mouth to protest, to cry
out and make him stop before he could finish.

And then she found herself faced with a strange man. His eyes stared at her
with an uncomfortable intensity, and they were filled with pain. She
wondered why. "Can I help you?" she asked him. Maybe he was one of Darlene's
friends.

"No. No, I'm sorry." his voice was trembling. "I must have the wrong room.
Sorry to bother you." And he turned to walk off. His shoulders were hunched,
and Jennifer watched him go with curiousity. A strange man... yet he
looked... familiar?

She felt depressed for some reason. She felt like she was losing something,
but couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe it was because of the guy. He had
seemed depressed, maybe it was rubbing off on her.

Jennifer shrugged and went back to her desk. Her mind kept returning to the
man's face, and how familiar he seemed. But try as she might, she couldn't
place him. Finally, she gave up, and returned to studying.

Next part

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