Word travels fast on the college scene. Me, and two of my three BFFs - Isabelle and Ellie, all are now starting our Freshman year at USA in Mobile. Our third BFF, Reagan, has gone the opposite direction and is at Florida State in Tallahassee. Sophie, my live-in slave-girl, is starting her Freshman year at Bishop State College in Mobile. Before she met me, her grades were just shy of getting her into a four-year school, and I didn't have time to get her GPA up. So she does two years there, then transfers to USA. Her GPA will be up. I'll see to it.
So far, all of two weeks into classes, she's doing very well. Those who know her credit my supervised study sessions for that. I credit it to Sophie's burning desire to never disappoint me, and it's plain I want her to do well.
Normally I have Sophie dressed in something that's on the slutty side of porn-star slutty and equally revealing. No matter who I have over to my apartment. Well, except for when her family comes over, then I dress her like the 18-year-old girl she is. For class, I've been dressing her about the same as everyone else on my campus dresses, which is to say in youthful fashion. With one very notable, and well noticed, exception. Sophie is never, ever, under any circumstances without her collar. It's a soft leather dyed pastel green and fringed with a frilly white lace. It has a medium-sized shiny gold padlock fastening it, which she keeps well polished. And it has a dog tag on it, also polished shiny, which identifies her as "Property of Miss Rodgers."
It took exactly one day for the word of Sophie's collar to make it across town to my campus. Once it did, the gossip mill into overtime, especially since Sophie had told those who asked that I went to USA, and yes, she was my slave-girl, and very happy to be. Her first day three guys asked her out, all getting the same answer: they'd have to ask me, Sophie only dates whomever I tell her to date. But if I were to tell her to date one of them, she'd be a very good date. As good and fun of a date as I told her to be.
Her first day I dropped her off and picked her up, which gave everyone a chance to see that I am real, not just something Sophie made up. After that, I bought her a pastel pink little moped to ride to and from school. Her mom laughed when I sent her a picture of it, saying that it was perfect. Sophie has always wanted a little moped like that. I knew, which is why she got that instead of a car from me. Plus it's only about a mile from the apartment to her campus. She loves it. Her classmates don't, at least the male ones, several of whom are trying to find me to ask if they might take Sophie out. I won't let them. I know they only want to date her because they think she'll be easy and kinky, and thus very fun.
The very day word made it over to USA about me, or rather the "girl student no one knew yet who owns a pretty slave-girl at the state college," both of my BFF's heard it. Izzy told me about it after our classes. It was one of the days we weren't in the same classes. When a junior year girl told her about it, Izzy just laughed, "Oh, you mean Pepper and her slave Sophie."
That was met with the natural response: "OMG, you know them!" to which Izzy said, "Uh, yeah, Pepper is like my BFF#1! And every time I go to her apartment Sophie serves us!" Which led to a request for an introduction, to which Izzy responded that I'm particular about whom I meet, but maybe she could arrange something. Although an invitation to my apartment, which always includes humble service by a barely-clad-to-butt-naked Sophie would be much harder of an ask.
Since then Elise, the junior-year girl, has been doing everything she can possibly think of to get into Izzy's good graces. Izzy and I have laughed about it a number of times. Not so much that she's trying to get in Izzy's good graces to get to me, but how obvious she's being about it. Izzy chalks that up to her slight social-awkwardness, a trait her computer science major of a boyfriend has even more of.
But Izzy thinks Elise is a good girl, just rather quiet. And socially inept. And she knows it. She doesn't have many friends, and fewer still that are close. We both wonder why she's so hot to meet me. Especially since it's obviously a reaction to hearing the rumors about my lifestyle.
Then comes Labor Day. Which obviously, by college-girl standards, demands a party. Even better, a toy of my mom's is an executive for Airbus who lives most of the time in France but keeps a very nice sailboat in Mobile which she has use of. She politely tells him that she's loaned it to me. I'm certain she told him, not asked him. But whatever, it's waiting on me. And it's an 80-footer with a 19-foot beam and four cabins. Perfect for a good party.
The four of us, Izzy, Reagan, Ellie and I, all agree it's going to be an awesome party. Then kind with videos that go viral. Videos I will make, edit and post to ensure no one on my a list (which includes Sophie) is humiliated by them. B list guests... had best behave. Reagan wants to bring her boyfriend, whom she followed to Tallahassee. So I suggest that Izzy and Ellie might want to invite a date as well. That brings the number aboard to 10. the eight of us, plus the two sailors that come with the boat and can actually sail it. A party, but not a blowout. According to its captain, the Coast Guard will let up to 35 board the boat, so we all agree we have a little ways to go.
We decide to invite one friend each, plus a date. That boosts the total to 18. And obviously, we'll need some entertainment, so I offer to provide a few "toys," and everyone agrees that a couple of toys to tease might make for a fun party. And that'll boost the number to 22. We agree on three of our closer friends to add to the guest list, plus a date for each. That bumps it up to 28.
That's when I have a brilliant idea. I suggest we see just what Elise and her boyfriend are after. I have Sophie print up a very fancy invitation for "Elise plus one." It looks as good as anything a printer could have turned out. Amazing what you can do on a laptop nowadays. It invites them, but it also warns them that they are invited as the "special guests and property of Mistress Rodgers," to attend an "adult-themed" aboard the "Sail Yacht La Princesse Catherine." It tells them in finer print, but not so bad they'll need a microscope to see it, that they are permitted to bring "absolutely nothing but their bodies aboard." And it tells them when and where to meet the Yacht's tender.