I would recommend reading "Roman Holiday" and "Women's Health Issues 101" as this story assumes you are familiar with the plots and characters. If you aren't, this story will seem like an awful mess.
Crossover stories are always tough. "Mork and Mindy" meet "Happy Days", "The Harlem Globetrotters on Gilligan's Island", that STUPID cartoon where Batman was on Scooby Doo ... there isn't a lot to recommend the crossover. But I'm going to try anyway.
Worlds Colliding – Part 1
Leslie seethed as she marched across the quad, snow crunching beneath her feet. She was getting sick of this, really sick of this. She had ideas, she had suggestions, she had points to make and every time she tried to bring them to Victoria Tastick, they were shot down. "Too aggressive" or "too hasty" or "we need to stay in the background". It was ridiculous. If you had the power, you used it ... that's the way the world worked. The Association had the power and they refused to use it. It was maddening! If she could just get a few minutes, along, with Victoria she was sure she could make her see reason. But all of her requests for face time with Victoria had been rejected, just like all her suggestions. And she knew why.
Bridget!
Bridget, Bridget Bridget! Everyone thought Bridget was so wonderful; Leslie thought Bridget was a fucking idiot. Bridget was the High Priestess of the "slow and steady" disease everyone in The Association was infected with. Victoria may have controlled their coven, but Bridget controlled access to Victoria. Leslie knew her real problem wasn't everyone else's timidity, it was Bridget. But as things stood, Bridget was an insurmountable problem. Sometimes Leslie wondered if induction into The Association had been worth it.
She looked around, remembered where she was and realized it had been. She was going to one of the best colleges in the nation. She may very well have made it here on her own, but The Association had made it easier. After college, she'd have a foot in the door in any profession she chose, thanks to The Association. And then there were the women. She'd been pretty good at talking women into bed before; the "insights" The Association had given her had made it ridiculously easy. Frustration with Bridget aside, her 1st semester of college had been the best four months of her life. There was no reason to think her second semester, barely one week old, would be any worse. Leslie knew she shouldn't be thing angry; things were good enough, at the very least.
But Leslie didn't believe in settling for good enough.
One thing that made her so angry was she'd almost been Bridget. Her rival had let slip once that when Victoria had been casting about for a protégé, the choice had come down to her and Bridget. For reasons that had never been shared with her, Bridget had been chosen. More than once, Leslie had speculated to herself Bridget blocked all her requests because maybe, just maybe, Victoria would realize she'd made the wrong choice.
The other thing she didn't like to think about. Bridget had personally handled Leslie's induction. It had been the most intense, most powerful sexual experience of her life. On the rare occasions her confidence wavered, Leslie thought of that night, of the powerful orgasm that had given birth to her new life, and she worried she'd never feel so gratified again.
Night had fallen, but Leslie had reached her destination, the campus science building. She let herself in through the back door, as she'd been instructed. She arrived in the class with 10 minutes to spare, and had a look around. The rumor was the professor was a lesbian and didn't let men into her classes. Not only that, the rumors also said the professor only let the best looking women into her classes. So far, the rumors looked to be true. The dozen other girls in the room could all stop traffic. Leslie wasn't the least bit intimidated. She's always had a beautiful face; thick, jet black hair, dark, liquid brown eyes, button nose, sensual mouth, sharp chin. But her body had been boyish, all knobby knees and elbows and gangly limbs with the loosest of connections to her torso. The summer before her senior year, her tits had grown in. Sure, she was only a b-cup, but that was one full cup size more than she'd had any hope to expect, and they fit her frame perfectly.
She didn't have big boobs, but she had nice ones, and anyone with a brain knew there was a difference. The rest of her curves had filled in as well. She had killer legs and an ass other women spent hours on the StairMaster trying to get. Boys began to notice her, which she didn't care about at all. Girls suddenly couldn't keep their ands off her, which she loved.
The professor entered the class and all the girls settled into their seats. She was tall, with sandy brown hair, green eyes and plump, shiny lips. Her breasts were full and round. The fitted dress pants she wore seemed molded to her flared hips and strong, long legs. Leslie got a little moist just looking at her. The professor quickly surveyed her newest students with satisfaction.
"My name is Professor Karen Sawyer and this is Women's Health Issues 101. If you are here for a different class, it's too late now," the students laughed. Prof. Sawyer reached into a bag on the desk and pulled out a grey sphere. She touched a button on the top and a soft hiss filled the room. "Each class will begin with a short meditation session. Breath in through your nose and out through your mouth and relax. I'll let you know when we're ready to begin."
Leslie did as she was told. He anger, her frustration, all thoughts of Victoria and Bridget melted away. It felt wonderful. She was shocked, when Prof. Sawyer called them back to attention, to see a full 30 minutes had passed. And she was aroused, wildly. Her pussy was warm and sticky. Her breath came in rapid, short gasps. Her nipples tingled. Leslie dared a look around the room. It was obvious she wasn't the only one in this state. Many of the girls were already feeling themselves up. Only some of them were trying to hide it, with no success at all. It struck Leslie as odd, for a second, but she decided she didn't care. She couldn't remember feeling so turned on.
