I guess I'll begin with a little introduction. So my name is Ashley. I'm 19 years old, 5' 6" tall, a natural blonde and someone whom you'd call a busty petite. See, for my size—I'm really skinny—I have rather large breasts. And although I love them, they also cause me a lot of trouble from constant back pains to constant stares. Big tits are great when it comes to your love life, but they are a pain in the ass when it comes to pretty much everything else.
They are heavy, they take up space, men won't look you in the eyes, random people on packed trains will "accidentally" brush up against them and so on. And those are just the everyday annoyances, too. Every once in a while, though, your breasts can get you in much bigger trouble. My story will be about one of those times.
***
The story I'm about to tell you happened in college during my freshman year. I enrolled at one of the country's best universities (at least I thought so), with big dreams of becoming an investigative journalist, so I could expose bad people and make the world a better place. I know. I was pretty naïve.
So I joined the college newspaper with high hopes. I knew I had a ladder to climb, but I was determined. So when I was tasked with reporting on community activities (you know, like balls, charity events, yard sales, that sort of stuff), I was fine with it. Even though I despised the genre, I considered it a good practice and I was pretty sure I would get noticed by my supervisors if I did a good job.
One time I was doing a report on a student ball held by the faculty of law. While doing interviews with the people in attendance, I met Craig. He was a 21-year-old law student who caught my eyes right away. He was really handsome and he was glad to talk to the school paper. So we started chatting and I instantly fell in love. He was not only good-looking, but smart and even more idealistic about changing the world than me. I ended up staying longer than I planned as we talked all night and at the end of the day, we changed numbers.
Craig was the perfect guy for me. He wanted to become a lawyer and bring corrupt politicians to justice. I wanted to become a journalist who would inspire people like him to pursue cases against such people by exposing their criminal activities to the public. I guess Craig, too, had realized we were meant for each other, because by next week, he asked me out on a date, and at the end of the date, he kissed me and asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend.
We were madly in love, and when Craig told me his plan to run for student president, I encouraged him and told him I'll support his campaign as much as I can. See, the current president was Max, a 28-year-old guy, who's been the head of the student government for the last 6 years, and been part of it since he was a freshman, which was 9 years ago. He was one of those types who never graduated.
But Max was far from the Peter Pan type who didn't want to enter adulthood so they just stayed in school forever. Max stayed in school because our student government had one of the largest budgets in the country. And guess what. It was also one of the most corrupt student governments. Max was as rotten as anyone can be. He basically lived from stealing university money, while using his power to manipulate others, organize drug-fueled parties, and have sex with girls left and right.
A notorious womanizer, Max would accept sex as bribes from sororities that needed more funding. He'd organize sex parties and live in wealth, but nobody did anything because everyone was in on it, from top to bottom. The whole system was corrupt including the teachers and the principal. It was a well-oiled machine: even though everyone knew how things worked, nobody talked about it. And if anyone tried, they would be either paid off, blackmailed or just flat-out silenced.
So Craig decided to do something about it. He was gonna dethrone Max and end corruption in our student government once and for all. It wasn't easy, because most people benefitted from the system in one way or another. Max also had dirt on almost anyone important. Not on my Craig though. There couldn't have been a better candidate than him to try and beat Max. And he had my full support.
Relentless, I kept doing my reports in the college paper, and my editor-in-chief, Tasha, soon noticed my talent. I got bigger assignments, and after a while, I started bringing in my own stories. I realized if we wanted to beat Max in the election, we needed to expose him, so I wrote this big exposé about his corruption, how he stole money from the school, how he used his power to manipulate others and how he was a misogynistic womanizer who accepted sex as payment from female students.
Tasha loved the article and not only wanted to publish it, but decided to put in on the front page. However, next morning, when I went to get the paper, the story was nowhere to be found. Dumbfounded, I went into our office only to find out that Tasha has mysteriously resigned, and there was a new editor-in-chief, Steve, who revoked my story the last second before it went into print. I knew Max did this. I was pretty sure someone ratted us out and Max blackmailed Tasha so she would silently resign.
You could tell Steve was his guy. He was a pig who immediately demoted me to the horoscope section. They knew this would be a better punishment for me than simply getting rid of me. Instead of firing me, they moved me from real news to made-up bullshit. They kept me around also to keep an eye on me. I was furious, but I needed the credit that I received for the extracurricular activity for my studies, so I stayed with the paper.
***
In the next few weeks, I was fuming with anger. Not only I had to write stupid horoscopes for the paper and endure Steve's sexist remarks on a day-to-day basis, I frequently got to see Max's arrogant face as well, because we had a class together. I hated his smug smile. He was a jerk and he rubbed it in every time I saw him.
"Hey horoscope girl," he winked at me one time before class. "What's gonna happen to me tomorrow?"
God, I wanted to punch him.
Then, towards the end of the class, our teacher gave us a group assignment. We were to write a paper in pairs about the effects of alcohol on decision-making. I was already running names in my head who should I pick when my teacher announced that the pairs will be chosen by him. And guess who I got paired up with. Fucking Max. I thought I was gonna lose it.
I approached Professor Westbrook after class and told him to pair me with someone else, 'cause I just couldn't work with that asshole.
"I paired you up on purpose," he said.
"I don't understand," I replied.
"Part of the aim of this class is to prepare you for the real world in which you can't always choose the people you have to work with."
"Yes, but--"
"No buts," he said. "You need to learn how to put personal differences aside when working in a group, because in all likeliness, you will eventually experience an unpleasant work environment in real life. It's better to learn how to deal with those types of situations while still in school, don't you agree?"
I sort of did, but that didn't make the situation any less uncomfortable. I hated the idea of having to work with the guy I despised the most. I was pretty sure he would not only tease me for my article the whole time, but that he'd be no help to get a good grade on the paper either. I was pretty mad, but somehow I managed to suck it up.
So I arranged a date with Max. He suggested we should meet at his place. I was reluctant at first, but Craig managed to convince me. See, Max's place was like a fortress. He lived in a fraternity where he was surrounded by his closest allies. Nobody knew the place from the inside. They actually had a second building for parties and open events. Craig suspected that the secrecy meant they had something to hide. He even bought me a spy pen so I could secretly take photos if I found anything incriminating.
I was more concerned about the essay, though, since I knew I would end up doing all the work anyway. So I hit the library to collect every book and study ever published on the effects of alcohol. I didn't care about Max, I was gonna get A+ no matter what. And if I happened to bump into something I could use as evidence to bring him down in the process, I would have my pen with me.
So with a huge stack of books in my hand, I rang the bell at his fraternity on a Saturday morning. It was a particularly warm spring day, so I wore a light summer dress that was breezy enough to keep me from passing out, but moderate enough that Max wouldn't stare at my body the whole time I was there. After a few seconds of waiting at the entrance, a geeky-looking kid opened the door.
The guy—freshman from his looks—scanned me with his eyes from top to bottom, before finally making an eye contact. He had barely any muscles on him and his face was covered in pimples. He didn't look like a member of the most influential fraternity on campus. He looked like someone's little brother. Except he was really creepy.
"You Ashley?" he asked.
"Umm, yeah," I answered.
"Max is waiting for you upstairs," he said as he let me in.
As I followed his directions to Max's room, I was pretty sure he was checking my ass out while I was heading up the stairs. That place was already giving me the creeps. From outside, it looked just like a regular building. From the inside, it looked like the Playboy Mansion, except there was no one around, save for the creepy kid who let me in.
I finally arrived to Max's door and I knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door. He was in his boxers with a Hugh Hefner-like bathrobe on top, except it was open so his bare chest was completely visible. I couldn't believe it. I came here to study and this freaking guy was in his pajamas. And of course, he greeted me with his typical smug smile. I was already mad at him.
