Three Plus Two
Part 1
It is a small, private college in the western part of an Eastern state in the United States. It has been around for almost two centuries. You have heard of it. Most of its buildings are covered in ivy. It usually makes the top 20 lists of the magazines that rank schools. If you read the New York City papers, you see it in offhand mentions as the Alma Mater of bank or business CEOs, senators, and even the occasional President. Well, two Presidents. Its blue-blood reputation and its cost keep most students from applying, but for people in the circles of power and money in the United States, and increasingly from around the world, it is recognized as the place where if you get through, your ticket for success for your generation is all but guaranteed.
In the late 1990s when this part of the story happened, the college had a social pecking order like most other schools, but its small size made the pecks much more vicious. Super Jocks and Nerds were not part of the culture. Nobody from the school has ever won a Heisman or a Nobel Prize. The college competed in a sports league of larger schools, and occasionally won championships. Its best known teams were Lacrosse and Hockey: Sports that value leadership and sharp competition, but also leave room for individual achievement. The center of the social order at that time was the greek fraternity and sorority system. Because the school sits out in the country in a conservative small town, the greek system, which officially had private houses and could have “private” parties with alcohol for minors, dominated the party and social scene. From the first week of the first year of school, the upper class members of fraternities and sororities sized up and judged potential new recruits, looking for people who were like them to become their brothers and sisters.
One house sat at the top of heap. It reigned as the most select on campus for as long as anyone could remember, made up of not just pretty white boys, but also the sons and grandsons of powerful older white boys, destined to follow in their forefathers’ footsteps in industry and government. When you joined a house like this, you became the members’ new brother, in a very competitive family. Once you were in, every aspect of your life was subject to discussion and judgment by your peers and your betters: Your looks, grades, health, clothes, hair, friends, drugs, who you fucked and who fucked you, and pretty much everything else was open to your new brothers, and the examination could be harsh, cold and direct. This and other parts of the indoctrination process made the boys into a team of brothers who would fight to the death for each other, and then fight each other to the death. Each year, out of the 20-person group of “pledges,” some left—— sometimes more than half. In recent years, with the better recognition of mental health problems, almost every year at least one of the pledges ended up in rehab or a care home by the end of his second semester. Previously, the broken alcoholics and/or junkies would just been shipped off to a different school by their disappointed parents. Nobody ever blamed it on the house, its culture or its members. Failing to stick it out was seen as a failing of the individual.
The house—and all of its boys—reveled in their reputation, and its members cultivated it constantly. Money, power, looks, success, and parties that rocked as hard as its members worked. When the house opened its doors for a mid-term or end of term party, it started late and went later. They had the occasional band or act, but the real draw for the parties was to preen, primp, and pose, both boys and girls, and show that you could run with these baby wolves. Pretty much every party drug was used at one of the house’s parties years before The Huffington Post warned suburban moms about it. The old reliables, however, alcohol and cocaine, could always get the party started and had never really gone out of style.
The particular party that is part of this story officially ended at just about 3:30 am on a Saturday morning in October 1999 when a brunette with the body of a dancer in a tiny black miniskirt finally curled up on the massive leather couch in the basement next to her sorority sister who had been face down for a while, the victim of one too many downers and not enough uppers. At any other party, these two would have been in the center of every dance circle, and would be lusted after. Here, they were relegated to the background and were still wearing the clothes they had arrived in. Keeping the invite list small, just 50-60 girls for the 45 boys increased the odds for the members, kept the townies out of the parties, made the drugs per person ratio far better. With the various bodies and empty bottles and baggies, the fraternity looked like a cross between “Animal House” and “American Psycho” without the chain saws. Every room from the basement to the second floor had one or more people sleeping off whatever they had drank, inhaled, swallowed, eaten or otherwise put into their body.
For three of the boys, however, the “after party” was still going on. These three boys lived in their own big room, at the end of the hall on the second and top floor of the house. Ron, Jerry and Alex were at the top of their game, at the top of the social heap, and sailing through their final year in college. In the three years since they all pledged together they had bonded like the brothers they were supposed to be, competed in sports, women and more, and stood up for one another when necessary. Now, in the middle of the first semester of the last year of school together the three led the fraternity chapter as a tight clique, and made sure the other brothers got pussy when possible and drunk when necessary. They were all athletic, tall, and trim, and, like just about all of the other members, very good looking. And they made sure that they got the pick of everything that came through the door. Ron, named by his parents after Ronald Reagan, was the president of the fraternity—— the Alpha as they called him. Jerry was the vice president, or “beta,” and Alex was Gamma, responsible for the house and parties. All three of the boys had attended the party looking for new “tail,” as they would have said it, having been through most of the inventory at the school by now.
At 3:30 in the morning, these three boys were in their room with two girls: Gerry (short for Geraldine) and Michelle. People had said that the two were third year sorority sisters from a mid-level house up at the state school, visiting friends at the college for the weekend. The story was that the two of them met in the first few weeks of school first year during rush week, and had been inseparable ever since. Both were striking with angular facial features, bodies just under 5 foot three that had been shaped by running and jumping because, people had said, both had run track in high school. Again, the story people had heard was that neither were blonde when they graduated high school, but in the two years since meeting they had both changed their looks, and now each had a strong resemblance to the other. The two also shared common perky manner, were ready for a good time, and ready to help each other out. People had said that Gerry seemed to be the more forward of the two, but other people said you could not tell because it was difficult to tell them apart. People said that Michelle told someone at the party that after meeting Gerry they had both become the sister the other one never had. The story seemed plausible, but everyone was wrong about Gerry and Michelle.
It’s not really clear how the Gerry and Michelle knew about the party. None of the boys remembered inviting them, but when they arrived, the boy at the door welcomed them in for three reasons: One, two girls dressed alike always is a sign of a good time. Two, new meat makes the regular girls want to try harder. Three, he, like every other boy, wanted to see more than what was shown by their matching gray wool overcoats and perfect hair. In other words, they had no problems getting in. Handing off their coats to the closet boy, the two headed for the bathroom to freshen up. The crowd of people, both boys and girls, parted for the two, who were dressed in tasteful, but short matching black dresses, a little more dressy than just about everyone else at the party. They both carried large black patent shoulder purses, which matched their shoes, and which they kept with them.
The bass of the speakers was thumping the house, and the music was good and loud. Something from Ace of Bass or something. Alex and Jerry were in the main common room scoping for potential mates and talking about whiskey when one of the younger boys, a second year, motioned for them to come to the front hall. Intrigued, they went over just in time to see Gerry and Michelle emerging from the ladies room. As the highest ranking boys in the pack, Alex assumed they had the pick of these two. He thanked the younger boy, turned, and introduced himself and Jerry to the girls. After the required jokes about Jerry and Gerry’s names, the boys escorted the girls to the bar room, got their drinks by cutting in line, and started to size each other up at a stand up table in the corner. The rest of the boys gave them space to sniff out the new prey. It seemed at first to Alex that the girls did not talk much, but maybe it was because Jerry had been talking about himself and the house. Jerry had made clear to the girls that he and Alex were two of the three top officers in the house, and that the house was the best one on campus, bar none. It was clearly bragging, but the girls seemed to dig it. A few minutes in, Alex asked the girl he thought was Gerry (they were hard to tell apart): “You’re Gerry, right?” She turned to him with a small smile, and nodded slightly, sipping her drink through a straw. Seeing he had her attention, he continued: “So what do you carry around with you that needs to be in such a big purse?”
Gerry looked up at Alex, and motioned for him to lean over towards her. She whispered into his ear: “We want to show you. We’re here to use it.” Alex turned his head and whispered back: “Ok sister. I’m game, and I know Jerry is too.” And he winked at Jerry, who winked back. As Alex stood back up, he exchanged a smile with Gerry, and anticipated a successful, and maybe interesting, bang. Just then, Ron stepped up to the table, in all of his presidential glory, putting his drink and his hands on the table.
“Hi boys, who are these two wonderful ladies,” Ron asked, not looking at Alex and Jerry, but locking eyes with Michelle. Jerry introduced them, a little annoyed since he was making the angles at Michelle and Alex seemed to be getting on with Gerry. Ron put on his Alpha winning smile, and brought his physical wedge into the conversation square. He apologized for being downstairs when they arrived, but assured them they were welcome at the party. He began to, essentially, make the same brags that Jerry had been making about the house, but a little more braggy, making sure he dropped the fact that he was the alpha at least twice. He looked more at Michelle than Gerry, but made strong eye contact with both of them. The girls both listened to his lines, appearing as though they were (a) interested, and (b) hearing this for the first time. This excited Alex, who figured Gerry must be going along for the ride, but disheartened Jerry, the Beta, who thought he was losing a chance to fuck Michelle and whatever she had in her bag to the Alpha. It wasn’t the first time.
After a few more moments of Ron-dominated small talk, Jerry figured it was best to give up, and started to back away from the table of five, to seek out other pussy. As he just started to move, though, Michelle, who was standing to his left, put her right hand on his left thigh under the table. So he stopped, and looked at her. She was still looking at Ron, but gave a small smile as she squeezed his thigh. Intrigued, he stayed.
At this point there was more bragging and stories by Ron, just a smidgen of facts from the girls delivered by Gerry (they were not students at the school, but had visited it in the past, they were both originally from a place where it did not snow, so they were cold all the time here, they, like Ron, thought the Hamptons were overrated) and a second round of drinks arrived. Ron was amused that Jerry had stayed, and was telling stories about himself to try to get him to leave. Michelle kept her hand where it was on Jerry’s thigh, and Jerry stayed where he was. Typically, this was when a girl said “I’d like to get lit, but vodka has so many calories and no kick,” and the boy would say “I have something a little stronger upstairs,” which would lead to something, which would lead to something else, which would lead to fucking. This situation was a little more complicated because of the five of them, but Gerry made it simple. She took a big swig of her drink, put it down on the table, put her pinky finger in the air and said, while smiling “boys, if you have some coke, let’s all the five of us go do it. Michelle and I are here to have a good time, so let’s all give it a go together.”
Ron looked quickly at Alex, and then at Jerry, who both were looking at him to give the go-ahead. “Michelle,” he said, looking at Gerry, clasping her pinky and breaking into a grand smile. “You read my mind.”
“I know I did,” she said, smiling. “But I’m Gerry.” They all laughed, and Ron told them he would meet them up in the room in a few minutes after he got some supplies.
Jerry and Alex proceeded to escort the girls to what Jerry referred to as the Presidential Suite, but it was really just one big room and a bathroom. It was about 11 pm. Some people at the party considered this a bit early for these particular boys to pick their girls. When people saw Ron getting his kit and making a score for extra coke to take upstairs, some people commented at the party commented on the fact that it was 3 on 2 in the room. Neither of these things were completely out of character for the boys. A lot of times, the boys were known to go two rounds in one night. As to numbers, some people remembered the time when the three boys just took one girl in, so two increased everyone’s odds. Others were pretty sure stuff went on in there when there were no girls. Some people thought that the girls must have a good stash of something in their rather large purses and they knew the three boys were always up for the latest in designer brainware. Ron arrived at the room after the other four had gone in, and tied a traditional sweatsock sock on the outside doorknob of the Presidential Suite, letting people know to that privacy was requested. He then closed the door and locked it from the inside. So nobody at the party thought to check in on the five, or disturb them.
The room was a large square, the width of the building and at the end of the hall, so there were windows on three sides. Along one outside wall was a twin bunk bed, and along the other outside wall was a large king sized bed: the Alpha’s. The room had its own bathroom, off to the right, and a large closet to the left. There were also two desks in the room, and a sitting area with two couches and a glass-topped coffee table good for sweeping things off of with your nose. As Ron entered, the four were sitting on the couches, boy/girl, with one of the girls sitting on Jerry’s lap. Ron still could not tell Gerry from Michelle, so he did not try to guess. He held up a small paper bag as they all looked up. “I’ll show you what’s in my bag if you show me what’s in yours” he said, sitting down on a chair between the couches.
“Deal,” the girl with Alex said. “Set yours up, and we’ll get ours out.” Ron and Alex proceeded to dump, cut and roll lines of white powder on the table, which, apparently even if you’re good at it, takes some time. Gerry pulled a small bottle of water and a stack of paper cups out of her bag, and Michelle took out a small jewel box, from which she removed five small purple capsules, leaving more inside. None of the boys had seen the size or shape of the pills before, and the girl’s bags still had lots of other stuff in them. Ron figured it was clothes for the walk of shame home, and didn’t give it another thought. After all, black dresses don’t go with Saturday mornings. He picked up a pill and held it up to the light, as Alex offered Gerry the first choice of lines.
“What are these purple ones? Not Viagra are they, ladies? We don’t need that.” Ron said, rolling the capsule between his fingers. Gerry finished taking the line up her nose, and sat up. “No, big boy. If you needed Viagra we would not be here.” She crossed her legs and wiped her nose, and you could see the drug start to kick as her eyes widened. She picked up the bottle of water, filled up a paper cup, and picked up a pill, and held it up for the boys to see. “Take this pill and you’ll see the dragon’s eyes tonight, boys. The coke makes every sense come alive, but the dragon’s eyes bring out the true you to me.” And she popped the pill into her mouth and drank the water. Gerry nodded at her, and Michelle got up off of Jerry, kneeled down at the table, did a line of coke, then quickly popped a pill into her mouth and drank from the water bottle, finishing and smiling an open-mouth smile. Each of the boys followed, with Ron going last. “So what do you think is going to be my true me,” he asked looking at Gerry, holding the pill in his hand after snorting his line.
“Each person’s truth comes to me through the dragon’s eyes,” Gerry said, turning serious. “Little boy, if you don’t want to see your truth revealed, then don’t do this,” she said. Ron was a little concerned.
“I just don’t want you to turn me into your gimp,” he said. “I know that’s not the true me.” His hand was closing over the pill, and he was wondering whether he should escalate this.
“I wouldn’t use that word ‘gimp,’ little boy,” said Gina, with a lopsided grin. “I don’t know what it means. But if it fits the real you, then that’s what you’ll see. If you lack the courage, then this is not mandatory. If, in your heart, you are a gimp, then I will see it come out tonight. And you will be a gimp. My gimp. If that’s what you are” She raised a finger to his cheek, and he did not shy away.
“How would you know all that,” Ron said, now getting more concerned about very personal, private hidden feelings he never shared with his “brothers.”
Gerry looked a Ron, with a serious face. “I can read your mind, Ronald. Remember?” Gerry said. “You said so yourself. I know all about you, Ronald. I know everything, and we’re going to spend some time tonight bringing it all out.” Ron chuckled, but had a little nervous tickle as the coke kicked in. “I don’t understand,” he said, a little concerned.
All of a sudden, Gerry skipped a beat and laughed, making it seem like she had been acting, and was now breaking character. “Don’t worry,” Gerry said, smiling, her eyes back to twinkling. “I was just kidding, Mr. Alpha. Coke makes me a little wicked sometimes. You’ll all be fine, and we’ll all have some fun. We’re all yours for the evening. You’ll see. Michelle, let’s go freshen up.”
She got up, seemingly not caring whether Ron took the pill. He looked at it, considered the experience, and decided to go for it. But while the girls were turned around, he was able to break the pill in half, and pocket part of it. As he chased it down with the last of his cocktail, he saw Gerry, hands on her hips, looking at him, smiling and nodding. Almost immediately he had a little regret for swallowing even half the pill.
“You boys sit here, and we’ll be back in a jiffy. It takes about 20 minutes for that pill to kick in, so don’t worry. We’ll be out before then” The two took their bags, went into the bathroom, and closed the door.
The first thing the girls did inside bathroom was to spit out the pills they had hidden in their mouths into the toilet. Then they checked their hair and while both looking in the mirror, Michelle air kissed Gerry. “I’m ready, sister,” Michelle said softly. Gerry turned and kissed Michelle on the cheek, and she blushed. Gerry continued, kissing Michelle on her neck, and started to remove Michelle’s dress. Michelle blushed more, and sighed, looking at Gerry with lust as she removed her own dress. Once naked, the two embraced, and Gerry slowly sank to her knees, resting back on her feet, with her hands cupped in front of her, eyes closed. “Let us begin, sister,” Gerry whispered. Michelle then rummaged through her bag, eventually coming up with a finely engraved, thin choker necklace with a large red jewel embedded in it. She opened it gently, walked behind Gerry, and chanting some unknown language, locked it on to Gerry’s neck. Gerry’s eyes snapped open, and they had gone from deep blue to almost the color of the jewel. They continued to prepare for the evening ahead, both now smiling serenely.
Outside, the male Jerry was doing another line off the table, and Ron was getting another drink of scotch. Alex sat on the couch, looking at the ceiling, riding his high. “I’m going to fuck the shit out of that one,” Ron said, still not sure which was which. “Michelle or Gerry,” Jerry asked. “Not you, of course,” Ron returned. “The one on the power trip. She needs to wise the fuck up.”
“I’m kind of digging this Gerry girl,” Alex said, smiling, his arms stretched out on the couch. Ron turned, feeling a plan come together in his mind. “You boys follow my lead,” he said. “I have some big plans for the evening. Stuff that we have never tried before. I’ll be sure to share them with you.” Ron sat back down in his chair, and felt a mellowness kick in, the satisfaction of being in charge. Then he decided to get another line as a “pick me up,” so he’d be ready to pounce when the girls came out. As he was doing his second line, he heard Gerry from the bathroom.
“Boys, get ready for the show,” she said, from behind the door. “I want you to know boys, like I said, we’re going to let you see to the dragon’s eyes.” The boys looked at each other, kind of puzzled. Then the bathroom door open and the two girls came out, looking radiant and naked, with Gerry wearing only the golden choker the boys had not seen before. Michelle carried both purses. Gerry also had her eyes closed, and Michelle led her out. Ron, taking the initiative and thinking Gerry was just being bashful, stood up and started walking to the girls, to impress them with physical size now that they were even shorter out of their heels. He felt power coursing through him, and he was ready to take what he wanted, just as he usually did. It was all just being offered to him. He thought they were both gorgeous, but the one with her eyes closed was amazing. Alex and Jerry followed behind him, crossing the room toward the two.
“The necklace,” Ron said. “So that’s the dragon’s eye?”
“Not quite,” Gerry said, eyes still closed, as Ron got very close. Ron felt ready to take her. Or take them both. But before he could raise her hand, Gerry, opened her eyes and they locked with Ron’s. Her irises were bright red. The boys started to backpedal. She said to the boys, in her regular voice: “Stop.”
And they stopped.
“Put down the drink, Ronald,” she said.
He did so, not even thinking about it. In fact, at this point, it would be fair to say he had no thoughts in his head.
“All of you undress, and when you finish stand and look down. I want erections from each one of you.” she said.
They undressed, fumbling, and returning to standing when finished, each of their bodies showing its honed, chiseled muscles, and each one looking down at his own dick, which was standing straight at attention. Gerry saw that the blinds were open, and asked Michelle to close them, so they could have privacy. When they were closed, had any of the boys been looking up, they would have seen the iris of Gerry’s eyes change to a pinkish, then a glowing red color as she approached , as her body heated up and she raised her hands above her head.
“You’re all here, and you’re all so, so ready for this,” she said, wading among them, and feeling Alex’s cut abs and muscular thighs, Jerry’s firm arms, and giving Ron’s dick a little squeeze, her eyes glowing brighter, more red, and starting to find their own light. “Just so you know, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, these are the dragon’s eyes.” Michelle came to her, caressing her, and feeling the heat radiate from her, and seeing her skin just about glow from the power rising inside her. Gerry’s, eyes now glowed brightly, shining out in the direction where she looked, as she stood straight up, and raised her hands above her head. Each of the boys had been feeling their own thoughts slip away, their conscious thoughts blurring like raindrops falling on a page of ink handwriting. They no longer understood the language they were thinking in. The girls watched them as their faces relaxed, minds becoming vacant under the power of the drug, ready for this session to be written.
“This is what we’re here for, sister” Michelle said between kisses on Gerry’s body. Michelle’s eyes were now the radiant pink that Gerry’s were minutes ago. “We have our new boys, sister,” Gerry said, luxuriating in Michelle’s kisses. “But their pills and the night won’t last forever, so let’s get to work.” .
Michelle nodded, and set the bags on the coffee table, ignoring the last lines of cocaine still sitting there. She dug in, bringing out straps and clips and pieces of leather of all different kinds. Metal, rubber and plastic. Gerry went back to the three naked boys. “Boys, on your knees, hands behind your head.” She said. And the boys complied. The two girls got to work.