The Professor and Erin
Author's note:
The viewpoints of the characters are pure fantasy and not a reflection of my own.
Ch1.
"Today's lecture will be on the male gaze and female empowerment," began Adam Hennesly. Adam was a young assistant professor in the psychology department at the University of Southern California. Something of a prodigy, he had earned his PhD in Anthropology at the age of 25, after having completed his thesis titled
Women as a Spectacle: Reclaiming Agency
. His dark eyes and elegantly tousled black hair and rakishly handsome features had made him quite a hit with the young ladies on campus, though he rarely took notice of the flirtatious glances sent his way. He was passionate about his subject matter and had little time nor interest in romance, particularly not with his students.
"Women are often objectified by the media for their sex appeal, as an unfortunate and direct result of the male gaze," he began. "Men are also objectified in the media though to a much lesser extent. In this more progressive era, we've begun to shift towards more inclusive representation, focusing on models with more realistic body types and proportions, as opposed to the unattainable ideals of the past."
He paused at the lectern to stare out at the students assembled in the large lecture hall. The light tapping of fingers on keys and the occasional cough were the only sounds that could be heard.
"While this has indeed promoted a more body positive environment, perhaps there are other ways for women to reclaim agency, that don't rely on changing the conventional attractiveness of the subject. What are some ways that women could still express their sexuality and individuality but not at the cost of being objectified?" he continued.
He loaded up his powerpoint and proceeded to give a few examples of women who embraced their sexuality and used it as a tool, a power, to captivate their audience while still retaining their autonomy. His students listened intently, nodding along as he talked at length about female agency and its implications.
"This doesn't mean that, if you are conventionally beautiful, you can no longer embrace your own sexuality. It's not about denying beauty or sexuality, but about owning it, on your own terms. Truly expressing your own identity."
The clock tower chimed softly in the distance, signaling the end of class.
"And that concludes our lecture for today. Next time we will cover the power of sexuality in performance, through dance, art, and theater. Don't forget to do the assigned reading." he said as students began collecting their bags and putting away their laptops.
He began gathering his notes and shuffling his papers. As the last of the students had filed out of his classroom, he looked up to see a girl, about twenty, standing in front of him. She had fiery reddish-orange hair that fell down to her waist in frizzy curls. She wore a long pale blue wool cardigan that matched her sky blue eyes and hugged her slender frame snugly.
"Yes...?" he asked, looking at her. He placed the last of his papers into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
"Erin." she said with a shy, flirty smile.
Oh dear. Not another one. "Erin." he repeated, nodding curtly at her.
"Your lecture today really intrigued me. Especially the part about expressing one's individuality through sexuality," she said, leaning against the lectern, her elbows perched on the top. She eyed him intently. Her voice had a very alluring quality about it. Slightly husky.
"Did it?" he said brusquely. He glanced at his watch. He had a luncheon at twelve with some colleagues that he had no desire to miss.
"Well, if you have any questions, be sure to attend the discussion session on Friday where we'll go over the reading in detail. You could also make an appointment to meet with me during office hours if you'd like to go more in depth." he said, starting to walk towards the door.
Erin was not deterred by his dismissive tone. "Actually, there was just one part that I disagreed with."
He stopped. That got his attention. Rarely did a student tell him they disagreed with one of his lectures. He turned slowly to face her. She was still leaning against the lectern, watching him.
"And which part was that?" he asked curiously.
"The part about objectification being a negative thing."
He eyed her. That was unexpected. "You disagree that objectification is a negative." he said slowly. If there was something he expected her to disagree with, this was certainly not it.
She tilted her head. "Not if it's done tastefully and with the subject's consent. Say a woman
chooses
to be seen that way, to invite that gaze. Couldn't that perhaps be empowering, Professor?"
He pursed his lips and thought for a moment, his luncheon briefly forgotten as he contemplated her question. He nodded slowly.
"You bring up an interesting point, Erin. I suppose context does matter. If it were indeed her choice then I suppose it could be empowering to an extent. Though there should be a line drawn somewhere. A lot of the content made by webcam models are consensual but I would hesitate to call that empowering. Perhaps once the content becomes driven by consumer demand and the creators begin to feel obligated to meet certain expectations that they themselves did not expect is where art ends and objectification begins."
She bit her lip, smiling. "And what if they did it freely? What if they only desired to be
seen
?"
"Then perhaps there could be a power to it, sure."
"One last thing professor."
He looked at her, waiting.
She came around the podium to stand before him. With a sensual fluid move, she carefully untied the knot around her wool cardigan and let the garment fall open slightly, revealing just enough for him to tell she was wearing nothing underneath. He caught a glimpse of the swell of her breasts and the small patch of hair between her legs before she wrapped the cardigan back around her.
Professor Hennesly's mouth dropped open- his brain still trying to process what had happened.
Then Erin gracefully redid the knot around her waist. Still smiling, she took a small piece of paper and wrote something on it, folding it, before taking his hand in hers and placing it in his palm. Then she gave him a playful wink and headed past him to the door, the curves of her bottom stretching the cardigan a bit as she sashayed away.
"Let me know if you ever want to see me 'reclaim my agency' Professor Hennesly," she said as she neared the exit. She gave him a wave over her shoulder and left the room. He stood there, shell shocked. Adam looked down at the folded note in his hand. He unfolded it carefully. On it in neat handwriting was her number.
Ch. 2
