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Chapter
2
It was about half way
through the semester when I heard some junior or senior girls talking
about Professor Franklin at the cafeteria. Professor Franklin was
about 30, petite, with a feminine, but stern countenance. I laughed
silently at the boys in my class who seemed to hold her in a mixture
of awe and lust. This was much more than a schoolboy crush.
Professor Franklin taught
my Sociology 101 course, and I hoped to have her again in my Junior
year to take the course she offered in Modern Feminism. It was this
course that the girls were talking about, or at least I thought
it was when I first started listening in. I tried not to be obvious
as I tried to gather in every word.
"How do you think she
gets away with it?" I heard the tall blonde ask.
"I don't know. Perhaps
because it's off-campus." replied the one in the pink sweater.
"But where do you think
she gets the videos. They aren't commercial grade; they look like
they were done privately."
"Ooooh," said the third
girl, a cute African-American. "The idea that this is real, not
just an act and that she was there!" She ended, perhaps a bit too
loudly since her mates tried to "Shhh!" her into a more quiet voice
pattern.
The blonde chimed in,
"And how does she get the men to do those things? I mean, they must
like it to look at their penises."
I blushed. I still had
no clear idea about what they were talking, but I was beginning
to form a picture in my mind, and that picture was making me hot.
Pink sweater said, "She
said she wanted us to talk it over with our boyfriends. Now how
am I going to do that? I think Peter rather actually kneel down
in front of us naked than talk about doing it."
"Robert's a pussycat,"
the blonde gloated, "He'll talk about it or anything else I want
to talk about. I think I could make him come to the next session."
"Bullshit!" the black
girl interjected.
"You don't know him
as well as I do." Blondie said.
Pink sweater backed
her up, "I think she's right. I think she can do it. She's got almost
a magical power over that boy. Who else do you think will show up
with her boyfriend?"
"Cissy!" the two other
girls laughed, "That husband of hers better show up if he knows
what's good for him."
Unfortunately, they
got up and left at this point, and I lost the rest of the conversation.
I finished my lunch
and wandered over to Professor Franklin's office almost before I
knew I was there. I didn't know if I wanted her to be in or not.
I wasn't sure if I were really ready for this.
Her door was open, and
I could see her sitting at her desk. She looked up and noticed me.
"Amy, are you here to see me?"
I nodded.
"Come in. Close the
door. Make yourself comfortable."
I sat in silence for
a few seconds, but to me they seemed like a few hours. Now that
I was here, how was I to start?
Professor Franklin made
it easier for me. "What can I do for you? I know it's not about
class, you certainly seem to be doing well there."
I mumbled, "Well, it
is about class, sort of."
"Sort of?" she shot
an eyebrow up.
"Well, actually about
the Modern Feminism Class," I continued.
"What about it?"
"Professor Franklin,
I hope you still plan on giving it when I get to that level, and
I'd like to know a little bit more about it."
She laughed, "Yes, I
do plan to keep on teaching it. It's my favorite class. And please,
call me Franie, everyone else does. What do you want to know about
it beyond what's in the catalogue."
"I'd like to know if
there is anything I can do to prepare for the class. I mean, reading
assignments, or anything else to get ahead and ready for the class."
I was rambling tying to cover my own embarrassment. "I see where
it says that you cover the sexual politics of power in the female
- male relationship. How can I prepare for that?"
She smiled, "Don't you
have a boyfriend?"
"Yes, sort of, nothing
steady."
"And how do you get
along with him?"
I looked at her blankly.
She continued, "Who
decides what to do, where to go, when to go?"
I told her what I thought
she wanted to hear, "He does. Isn't that what boys are supposed
to do?"
"Maybe in your world,
sister," she sneered, "but it doesn't have to be that way. Women
have power over men. Most of them just don't know how to use it.
Haven't you ever told a boy what to do, and have him do it with
little or no expectation of a return?"
I blushed.
She could see it. "I
can tell you have. Do you want to tell me about it? Don't worry
about it, I've heard it all and seen it all."
Before I knew it, I
was explaining the episode with Roger earlier in the year. This
woman was so easy and non-threatening to talk to I opened up to
her.
Occasionally, she would
stop me and ask questions such as, "And how did that make you feel?
What do you think Roger was thinking about at this point?" and then
encourage me to go on.
At the end of my story
she re-assured me. "There is nothing at all wrong with what happened.
It's all perfectly natural. Roger, like a lot of other men, has
a need to serve women. I will go into that in great detail in the
class. I certainly can't explain it all now. Suffice it to say that
you have something, and he needs it. You don't need to give it,
and that puts you in a position of power. Enjoy it."
"Also, you've learned
another valuable lesson. Men have fetishes. It doesn't matter whether
it is a body part like your feet, or an item of clothing, or some
kind of material like leather or rubber. There is something about
these items that sparks an instinct in their primitive brain that
urges them towards sex. Fetishes are another way women can control
men."
"What do I do next?"
I asked.
She lead me with some
questions:
"Do you feel safe with
Roger?" "Oh yes, definitely, he wouldn't do a thing to harm me."
"Do you like what Roger
did to you?" "Yes, I haven't had so much fun before or since."
"Does Roger like what
the two of you did?" "I think he did."
"Are both of you adults?"
"Of course."
"Do you think you'll
have to force Roger to do it again?" I laughed nervously, "I don't
think so."
"Then do it or not do
it, and be happy about it either way." She said in true professorial
style. She added one final comment. "I definitely do want you in
my class. In fact, I hold special off- campus study groups for advanced
students. I think you'll fit in well with the group."
Before I left, Franie
did give me a list of books to read. I walked out of her office
a changed woman. I looked at my watch. Nearly two hours had gone
by. It seemed like minutes.
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