(as told to her by Callie) March 1998
Today is my birthday, and I’m 40 years old. I look back on my life in the late 60’s and early 70’s, when I attended San Francisco State, and wonder how we all got through it in one piece. Of course, there was nothing like AIDS back then, which helped.
My story is a true one. It took place in 1974, when I was 22 years old. We were a wild bunch and thought we knew everything and had done everything. I was quite reckless back then.
We had this tradition of daring each other to do crazy things, and I was regarded as the “bravest” one in our sorority house. We did some really strange things, like betting each other who could seduce which professors, or who could have sex with the oldest man. (By the way, I won that one. My sex partner was 79!)
This story really starts with a visit from the president of our sister sorority at UCLA. She came to talk to us about a problem they were having with their house. It seems that a fraternity house wanted the sorority building for expansion, and the frat guys had filed a morals charge against them with the college government.
Since the UCLA girls were as wild as us, the sorority was vulnerable. If it actually came to charges the girls might be evicted from their house, and the guys would then get the property.
After we’d talked over a number of ideas I came up with a proposal to “fight fire with fire”; get the boys into a compromising situation and then blackmail them into withdrawing their charge.
Some time ago our house had bought a closed circuit TV system for security, but it had soon been turned to another purpose. We set it up so that a sister could bring an intended victim home and do her thing with him while the rest of us watched from another room on the closed circuit TV. Well, it made a change from network TV.
Anyway, I suggested installing our closed circuit camera and recorder in a house off the UCLA campus, and holding a “special” party for the frat guys. I told the UCLA chapter house president that if she did this we’d take care of their problem for them.
She agreed, and some days later several of us drove down to LA with the equipment and set it up in a borrowed house just off campus. I took time to scope out the fraternity brothers, contriving to meet Gene Benjamin, the house president, at a dance the first night.
After dancing a couple of times with him, I said I was new in town and was having a get-to-know-you party. Would he and his house brothers like to come?
He made it plain that he would. He said I was beautiful, and that if the other women at the party looked half as nice as me he could get most of his fraternity brothers to come.
Party night came round, and everything had been set up. I was disconcerted to find that I had become central to our plan. I couldn’t back down now, however; it was a matter of pride. I was expected to greet however many guys showed up, and somehow get them to gang-bang me, all in the same room; on camera, of course. (I couldn’t believe I’d talked myself into this!)
It was necessary to film all the boys with me to demonstrate, if necessary, to the college government the hypocrisy of the fraternity house’s morals accusation against our sister sorority.
Well, you can imagine how I was feeling by this time. Here I was, setting myself up to be screwed by as many men as happened to walk through the door, and pretending I was cool with it. I tried not to think beyond the moment and threw myself into setting the scene. We got hold of a huge, thick, white throw rug, placing it where the camera could get all the action, then set the lighting as low as it could be set without losing necessary detail.
To tell the truth, I was losing my nerve, big-time! In fact, I was scared to death — for all I knew, a hundred guys might show up.
The day before the “event”, all I could hold on to was that I mustn’t lose face now! I did make a silent pact with myself that if more than ten guys showed up I’d chicken out and take the flak. (This tells you something about me as I was then — I didn’t consider having sex with ten guys in a row out of the question.)
The hour arrived ... We heard the doorbell ring and my heart jumped into my throat. The other girls all ran into the “monitor room” and locked themselves in, so that no guys looking for the bathroom would inadvertently stumble on them.
At the door was Gene, with five other frat guys, and I thought: ‘There goes my excuse for chickening out.’ Leading them into the room where everything was supposed to happen, I was already contemplating what it would feel like to have sex with six guys in succession in one night while being watched by seven girls as well as by the other guys. I wondered if all the guys would be able to perform in front of each other. Thoughts like that were running through my head.
The guys all came into the room, and Gene looked around and asked if they’d arrived early. I looked bashful and said I’d invited them under false pretenses; and that I was really a nymphomaniac, who needed to have sex with a number of men to have an orgasm. While telling this crazy story I had been undoing the strap of my sun dress from behind my neck, and now let it drop to the floor, leaving me completely nude.
Guys today would never fall for that story, but things were different then. (Also, back then, I had the kind of body that glowed with health, and “exuded sexiness” — or so I’m told.)
Gene said at once that he’d be glad to help me out, and one by one the guys with him intimated that if I really needed sex with them, who were they to argue?
Anyway, Gene took my hand and was leading me to the bedroom, but I pulled back and said I had to do this with other men watching, otherwise I couldn’t “get off”.
He seemed a trifle disconcerted by this, so I ribbed him a little, suggesting that perhaps he couldn’t manage it in front of his pals. He took the bait and pulled his pants down immediately.
As I watched, this gorgeous erect cock, all slick and swollen, sprang into view! All of a sudden I was calm again. This was my home turf, and I could handle it; at least, I hoped I could.