Gretchen (assignment: a special session with the Professor)

"I think this is bullshit" Gretchen said angrily.

Professor Klein just sat and listened.

"I want to say first off that I think this is total bullshit. That you make us humiliate and **** ourselves so you can say you're tough on us or something like that. But it's total exploitation and objectification. And I don't think we should have to do it."

Professor Klein still sat, without saying a word.

"Say something!" Gretchen demanded.

"You can't pass without it." Professor Klein said looking serious, though Gretchen thought she saw her smirk. "You can always drop out."

Gretchen had no plans of doing that. She was a serious girl who worked too hard to get here. She had told her father, the billionaire owner of a local software company that she would make the family proud. So now after two years of grueling graduate school studies, she wasn't about to let this freak of a professor **** her out.

Still, she had no intention of being turned into a sex object for a passing grade.

It's not that Gretchen didn't enjoy sex, it's that she deplored sex. It's primary function was to objectify women, she believed, and she'd never had any use for it. She hated being beneath some sweaty frat boy as he stared at her like a neanderthal. She hadn't done it in over four years and didn't miss it.

And Professor Krazy's project represented everything that she hated about it.

"I don't plan on videotaping myself while guys finish themselves on me." She said sternly to her professor.

"There are other options" Professor Klein said reasonably.

"I don't plan on walking around campus with the word "cunt" written on my ass and invite men to have anal sex with me for a week either." Gretchen snapped.

The Professor shrugged.

"Yeah," Gretchen said, "I heard that story from one of last years' students."

"That student got an A." Professor Klein admitted.

So there was a bit of a stale mate. Gretchen was adamant that she would not accept any assignment that she disliked, and she wouldn't like any assignment that the Professor gave.

Still, Professor Klein didn't seemed too concerned. And that, along with everything else, annoyed Gretchen.

Finally the Professor wrote an address down on a slip of paper and handed it to Gretchen. "Here. This is your assignment. Come to my house, my personal house on Saturday and we'll discuss your feelings about feminism and sex."

Gretchen peered into the doctor's eyes. She didn't like her. She was too pretty for a woman her age. Too pretty in general. She didn't like her long blonde hair, pulled back into a pony-tail and big breasts flaunted in a tight top. Still, this was the best deal she was likely to get. She came the closest she could to swallowing her pride.

"Fine" she said, pondering for a moment if she should say 'thank you' before leaving, but deciding against it.

That Saturday, Gretchen got up early and popped in her yoga tape to relax her. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee, threw on a pair of white jeans, a blouse and a cardigan and headed over to Daddy's big place on Orange Grove Lane for breakfast.

When she got there, her father was nowhere to be found, but her high-school aged sister Erin was sitting at the breakfast nook, shoveling cereal in her mouth as her face gazed into a Math book.

"Whatcha' got?" Gretchen asked.

"Advanced Trig" Erin said annoyed keeping her nose down.

"You'll be out of high school soon," Gretchen reassured. "Where's daddy this morning?"

"Early meeting." Erin said as she crunched. "Want some Breakfast?"

"Sure."

Erin shouted for the cook, who shuffled into the room with a big friendly smile. "Hi Miss Gretchen! Eggs and waffles today?"

"Ewww, no" Gretchen answered distastefully. "Egg-whites. And maybe an English Muffin."

"Sure thing dear" Elise was always agreeable. And her cooking was pretty damn good too.

After breakfast Gretchen headed to a few boutiques to shop for some scarfs and sweaters. It was January and the weather called for snow that night. Plus, she hadn't gotten a new scarf in months.

It wasn't until 2 o'clock before she'd made her way to Professor Klein's house. She wasn't sure what to expect, but a nice calm, reasonable conversation about feminism and sex, she could have. This is what the project should be, she thought. Something civilized. She would even do her best not to get heated if Professor Klein started spewing some sort of post-feminist pro-sex bullcrap.

She knocked on the door and the Professor opened it, her hair typically pulled back into a ponytail, but looking more relaxed in a pair of jeans and a loose sweater. "Come in Gretchen" she smiled and Gretchen obliged. She followed Professor Klein to a small kitchen table."

Gretchen sat down. "Let's talk." She was ready.

"Have you ever had an orgasm?" Professor Klein asked with prodding sincerity.

Gretchen rolled her eyes. Then again, she knew to expect this. "Let's talk about my opinions on..."

"Have you ever had an orgasm? We won't get far if you don't answer the first question" The Professor insisted.

"No" Gretchen said, already feeling herself getting annoyed. "But I don't see what the big deal is."

"Not even through masturbation?" The professor asked.

"Ew. No." Gretchen sulked. Keeping an open mind in the face of Professor Freak's personal questions wasn't going to be easy.

"Then that's your assignment. To have an orgasm."

"I thought my assignment was to talk. To discuss my feelings on sex." Gretchen didn't like this new change in plans. She'd been promised a conversation. Changing things now wasn't fair.

"And you will." Professor Klein's eyes rolled over Gretchen's body. "After you have an orgasm. That's far less than any girl in my class has ever had to do. Take the deal."

Gretchen puffed angrily. But she knew the professor was right. A simple orgasm, in the privacy of her home. "Okay fine" she relented, trying to calm herself down, telling herself this would be okay. No one would have to know. "I'll go home, give myself and orgasm and be back this evening."

"No, you don't understand" the professor intruded. "You're staying here. You're going to have an orgasm with some help."

"Help?" Gretchen asked. This sounded dubious. "Who's help?"