Christmas Eve. In our little town, just north of Boston, snow flew, slanting down in white slashes against the night. But everywhere were lights, electric candles in black windows, bright wrappings of colored lights around evergreens in front yards, vertical rows of lights across roof lines and planters and framing picture windows. The town was proclaiming the good news of the birth of our Savior, or, perhaps, the arrival of Santa, or, perhaps, just doing what their families always had done.
In the rear of cab-not one well heated—I was in my heavy overcoat. Beneath it was only the elf get-up: a thong with a fringe around my waist, a mini-brassiere that revealed more or less all but my nipples, and the little hat with the pointy ears, which was pinned to my long blond mane so it would stay on. I was shaking. Because of the cold, maybe.
Dressing, I had scrutinized my image. Let me avoid blasphemy at Christmas. For Pete's sake, my ass cheeks were bare, the crack just filled by the green thong. My belly was naked to just above my pussy; actually, not even. I had had to shave a little. The skimpy bra held up my breasts, all right, but barely.
I tried to imagine the ripe perfection of our chairwoman, Lana Erickson, in this outfit. What had she been thinking, for...um...Pete's sake? Maybe it was okay if you had perfect skin, a flawless shape with a dreamy torso, those svelte Swedish hips, and... It pissed me off. I could picture her tits suggestively lifted by the little bra. Well, I was bigger. It felt as though I was hugging to my chest a small basket with two jumbo melons. My hips were too big, too. And my butt... I shuddered. With the chill, I think. "Can you turn up the heat?" I asked meekly.
"All this thing does, lady."
"Oh."
Do you know that "Kappa Kappa Kappa" is the oldest fraternity in America, founded in 1842—18 years before the Civil War—at Dartmouth College, then popping up, two year later, at Yale? That's right. Very distinguished. And they had donated $2,500 to the Iron Mountain High School Christmas Fund. And in return, they wanted my body at their Christmas Party. What was I supposed to do that was worth that kind of money?
"Just be adorable, fun, flirty, and appropriately off color," Lana had said at our final briefing, "like an elf."
"Ask for 'Jason,'" she had told me. "He will take care of you."
"Here it is, lady," said the cabbie, swerving to the curb. Wow. An almost Medieval edifice of dark brick with chimneys, a porch, rows and rows of symmetrical windows, and a grand entrance. All set back among dark evergreens decorated only with snow. Generations of faithful Kappa-Kappa-Kappas had shelled out for this. Maybe they were really gentlemen?
I paid, leaped out, scooted up the long walk—shoveled, but now filling-in rapidly—scooted up three flights of brick steps, grabbed the big cast-iron knocker...and held it, hesitating. What the fuck was I doing here? I'm a high-school senior, barely 18. These are college guys. Where the hell are their co-eds? I was feeling sorry for myself. You know what? At our last meeting, Georgia had said, "Wear your diaphragm." Advice a little out of date, but I had made sure I took my pills every day that week.
Too cold out here. I gave the knocker a loud, demanding slam. My heart was ready to jump through my chest and go skittering over the snow like a scared hare.
"Hi, Ellen, welcome. Come on in. The party has started." And, as I stepped into the light, "Oh, you really are cute. So great you are here."
"Oh, thanks. You're Jason?" I managed a really warm smile.
"Yep, and you're Ellen? Where will you disrobe?"
"Disrobe?" the beginning of alarm.
"Get into the Santa's Elf get-up, you know?"
"Oh, sure..." I paused. "Just take my overcoat, that's it."
"Really? Weren't you freezing?"
I am handing him my overcoat, I am transformed into Santa's Elf. I try to smile warmly. He is staring down, speechless, at my bod. The bra seems to have slipped, a bit. One brown nipple is peeking above it in a little costume malfunction.
"Oops," I gasp, laughing, and jerked up the wretched thing.
"Meet the guys, Ellen"
Suddenly, they are clapping, all around a big, very impressive room, with a huge and radiantly lighted tree in one corner, a picturesque blaze in the fireplace, and high drifts of gifts under the tree... Lots of guys on couches, standing around, walking in and out of what looked like the kitchen. But all of them had stopped, now, and were scoping out every inch of my body, clad and unclad. I straightened, stuck myself out, smiled, and waited.
And then, I chirped, "Can I get anyone a drink?"
"I'll show you where," said one gorgeous hunk—sorry, what happened is a blur, all I know is the guy was attractive—and he slipped his arm around my shoulders, smiled into my eyes, and steered me toward the kitchen.
"You at the college?"
"Hope to be," I said, thinking that was the right thing. "Senior year in high school, now."
