The Club

I signed up for a women’s studies class to meet some girls. Really, why else would a red-blooded American college guy want to be in a lecture hall like this? Unfortunately, it backfired.

“Women aren’t as badly oppressed as other minorities, I believe.” That was one of the first things I said in that class. Oh boy, big mistake. A hundred women came and bitched me out after class.

“David, you’re just an arrogant prick!”

“You think you’re better than us just because of your penis?”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be a minority.”

Jeez, I was just stating an opinion, and these girls lost it! Well, I’ve never been the type to keep quiet just to please people, so I continued to state my opinion in class. That just made the girls angrier.

The only one who put up with me with a tall, stunning redhead named Angela. I had a huge crush on her, and we’d flirt sometimes, but I didn’t think she had an interest in me. I asked her one day to help me study for the midterm, and she agreed.

I awoke the next morning next to a wall in an empty room. My hands had been tied to hooks in the wall….and I was naked. I wondered where I was, but looking around, I recognized. I was in the University Feminist Club’s headquarters.

That’s when I saw Angela approaching. She was wearing thigh high leather boots and nothing else. She knelt down next to me and said, “So, you need my help studying? Want to know what women’s studies is all about? Well, my organization and I will teach you what it’s like to be treated as a sex object and nothing more.”