Monday, November 17, 2008

BACK ON CAMPUS... Adjusting (Part 37e)

When I was finished with my deliveries I headed back to my room. I picked out the few panties that I felt warranted attention and stuffed them in my pockets and went up to my room. Since I didn’t have anything worth all that much I never locked the door and, unless I was asleep, left the door wide open. My room was at the end of the hall which only had a small window at the top of the stairs. The hall was always dark even when the sun was out and, since my room (and door) were at the end of the hall, the light from my window was a big help. But, on this afternoon, I closed the door.

The one pair that particularly interested me was made of a material I’d never, consciously, heard of... acetate. It was like nylon or rayon except that it seemed a little heavier and stiffer. The label read “Isis”. I’d never seen it before. One other thing that I noticed was that the crotch, although not as big from front to back as the ones I liked, was wider than most panties. It was about the width of the heavy cotton “Nazareth” panties I’d bought for Elle. They looked like they were new and had no staining in them at all. I knew I wanted to see Elle in them and set them aside.

Another pair had a Mojud label in them. I knew I'd seen panties with that label and, after a while, realized that I'd seen them when I got a peek in the panty drawer of Julie, the K's daughter. I wondered if one of the pledges has taken them from the clothes line out back. These were exciting because, if they belonged to Julie, I now had a pair and every time I saw her would have an idea of just what she was wearing. Also, they did have some noticeable staining even though they’d just been washed. I had definite plans for them! I know there was another pair that I took a close look at but they didn't have a label. They did have a very different elastic waistband which intrigued me.

It was around this time that I had my first “encounter” with Helga. She’d gotten a job at the Inn, working in the kitchen. It was perfect for both her and her husband. Since they didn’t have kitchen privileges at the K’s, they had to eat somewhere. So, basically, she worked for the meals that they both ate. Since I didn’t spend much time in my room during the day (or night, for that matter) I didn’t see much of her or her husband. I know it was a Friday and I was headed to see Elle after making my deliveries. I’d forgotten something and had to stop at the room to get it. When I went bounding up the stairs I saw Helga standing outside the bathroom with the door closed. I said “Hi” and ran down the hall. With the door open I had a clear view of her and I could see her fidgeting, moving from foot to foot. I walked down the hall and asked who was in the bathroom and she said “Julia”. Julie, the K’s daughter was a cheerleader and at the High School football game on Friday afternoons. I wondered why she was home. I knew that she was a “bathroom hog” so told Helga to pound on the door and tell Julie that she need to get in. As I mentioned before, Helga was very shy. She just smiled meekly at me and then looked away. I figured I had nothing to lose so I knocked loudly on the door. Helga was alarmed by my action so I headed back to my room to get whatever it was that I was looking for.

A little background here... Right from the time I started staying at the house that Fall, I noticed that whenever Helga or her husband would leave the room they would lock the door behind them, even if someone was still in the room. I’ve mentioned that this was a very old house so the latches and lock were external to the door and not mortised into the door itself. The keys were of the skeleton type and the locks were noisy when used. “Clik... KLUNK” was what I’d hear. Sometimes I’d see or hear one or the other of them fumbling, trying to get the key engaged. In the whole year that my old roommate, Bob, and I had lived there we never once locked the door. I couldn’t figure out why the new people were so paranoid.

Back to the situation... Just as I was about to leave my room I saw Helga rushing down the hall towards me. Since the doorway to her room was right there, I had to wait for her to get out of my way to get past. As I stood there watching her jiggling from foot to foot, trying to get the key in the latch, I heard her say something in German in an exasperated tone. Finally the key engaged and she opened the door and darted in, slamming it behind her. I don’t know what made me look down but I did and there was a small puddle. I couldn’t help but smile as I felt a soft bulge start in my pants. As I went down the stairs I remember thinking that Julie’s selfish ways had struck again.

While I’m on the subject of the K’s, when I returned it was also a surprise to me to find that Mrs K had taken a job. The prospect of two kids in college at the same time had hit and they had decided that it was necessary. It was a typical 9 to 5 job at the Town Hall and within easy walking distance. Not that it was important to me but, without her being home all day I didn’t have to worry as much about breaking her rules. I found out, quite by accident, that Helga was allowed to do their wash there. One morning, on my way to class, I followed her down the stairs with a wash basket under her arm. When I saw her walking through the living room I thought it was strange. Then on another day, I had stopped at the room after classes and saw her walking from the back yard with the wash basket with folded clothes in it. I don’t remember how I asked her but she, in broken English, said that Mrs K had told her that she could use their washing machine. Not that I wanted to do my own wash or anything but, after a year of living there and having no access to the K’s house, I felt that it was sort of unfair that she did.

As I mentioned, I didn’t find Helga particularly pretty but, on any given day could be described as cute. I’m not sure why I hadn’t taken any interest in her panties but I really hadn’t. With the door to her room locked at all times and not really seeing her all that much I guess I suppressed it. It wasn’t until after her “accident” in the hall that I even gave it much of a thought. After discovering that her wash was being hung out in the backyard I vowed to make an occasional afternoon stop at the house to check.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

BACK ON CAMPUS... Adjusting (Part 37d)

Sometime after the evening meal some (or all) of us would go down town to the Stone Jug and pretty much polish off a pitcher of beer each. Then we’d go back to the fraternity and rouse the pledges and have them do a myriad of nasty things. We were often joined by a lot of the other “brothers” but it was clear that we were now leading the charge. Each of us took a turn in coming up with some sort of ordeal for the pledges to endure including forced marches and scavenger hunts. I was the one who came up with the items for the hunt and, as you can imagine, panties were on the list. You have to realize that these all took place in the dark and usually after 10pm. You also have to realize that we were in a rural area and also that most homes didn’t have clothes dryers. That meant that when clothes were put out on the line to dry and they didn’t, they were left on the line overnight.

I’d tried to scout the area each night, just before dark, looking for more than just a few filled clotheslines. On the night that the pledges were sent on the hunt I truly felt that they would be able to find more than a few. No two lists were the same but over half had panties listed. They had around four hours to find and return the items to the fraternity. It was one of the few “tests” that the pledges undertook without supervision which meant that the “brothers” stayed at the house and partied. Because I was so interested in the results I tempered my drinking so I could make an honest appraisal of their “loot”. As I remember it, each had to bring back about seven or eight items which included such disparate items as pitchforks, wooden pails/buckets, a Packard hood emblem and a street sign.

By the time the pledges started returning most of the other “brothers” had disappeared. As luck would have it, the first to return was the one who I’d bet wouldn’t get all his items. I think I lost $5 which was a huge amount at the time. Over half the guys managed to fill their lists. That mean that they earned an exemption from the forced march that was scheduled the next night that it rained.

Even though the panties were primarily for my pleasure, I found it interesting just how much interest the rest of the “Alliance” and other “brothers” showed in them. I think we got back around 8 0r 9 of them. Some were of no interest as they were humongous and only worth a deriding remark. But there were a few that certainly had interest for me. My problem was in how to pull them out from the rest without drawing attention to myself.

One of the Senior “brothers” had a friend who was a cop. He put a damper on our little party when he told us that we could probably get arrested for theft. I, for one, hadn’t given any thought to that. We decided that we better get the stuff out of the house as quickly as possible. Because I lived downtown they dumped most of the things into my car, including the panties. I didn’t know what I was going to do with the stuff and was particularly concerned about the next morning when daylight would expose a lot of it in the car. I remembered that there was a railroad siding in one part of the town. I drove past it a few times and, after locating the one police car in town parked, as usual, at the edge of town, made straight for the siding. It took me all of about 10 minutes to empty out all the junk except for the panties and some other items clothing. I left them in the trunk and then headed for my room. It was about 3am.

I really wanted to check out the panties. If they hadn’t been damp I might’ve done it at that time. I left them spread out in the trunk to dry, figuring on checking them out in the morning. However, I overslept and, rather than taking a “cut” from class, drove my car up on campus. I knew that it was a “no no” but had been told that there was a place behind one of the maintenance buildings that didn’t get checked all that often. Being late wasn’t good but it was better than a “cut”. I lucked out and didn’t get a parking ticket. Somehow I managed to forget about the panties in the trunk. When classes were over I headed for the farm to pick up my pie deliveries. I still can’t believe I’d forgotten about the panties but it was a real shock when I opened the trunk to put the pies in it. I couldn’t immediately tell if Mrs T had seen them but I started stammering (and perspiring) and tried to block her view. She knew something wasn’t right. I put one pie in and, while holding the other in my left hand, tried to sweep the panties and other clothes aside so she wouldn’t see them. I remember talking a mile a minute and it probably came out as babble. When we’d finished loading as many as I could get into the trunk I slammed it shut. What a relief. Mrs T asked what it was that I was hiding in there and I think I told her that it was clothes that I’d gotten sick in or something like that. She gave me a disapproving look but, thankfully, didn’t pursue it any further. I never did know, for sure, if she’d seen any of the panties.

To be continued...

Saturday, November 08, 2008

BACK ON CAMPUS... Adjusting (Part 37c)

It was getting late and I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time for Joanne to help in milking the cows. I also knew it was useless to try and change her mind so we continued on our way. I don’t think she spoke a word the rest of the way back. When we arrived I drove up as close to the house as I could get. I figured she would make a mad dash for the door but she remained in the truck. I’d started unloading some of the apples onto the porch when I heard her father yelling from the milking barn wanting to know where Joanne was. At first I didn’t know what to do. I got along well with her mother but her father always seemed a bit distant. I went to the passenger door window and passed on the “message” to Joanne. I honestly thought that would motivate her to move, but it didn’t. Her father continued to call for her and finally I saw her mother headed our way.

I met her at the back of the truck and told her I thought that Joanne had an “accident” and was too embarrassed to get out of the truck with me there. She went up to the truck door while I continued to move more of the apples. I didn’t see Joanne get out but I did get a glimpse of her walking up to the house with her mother. Even though it was getting dark and Joanne’s coveralls were of dark denim I could see that her whole backside was even darker. Had it been anyone but Joanne I might’ve enjoyed the sight. But I was concerned about her psyche. She’d made such progress since I first met her and I could only hope that this wasn’t a setback.

Mrs T came back outside and asked me to stay for supper. She said it was the least she could do for me after having given up a whole afternoon. At first I thought it wasn’t a good idea, thinking that my staying would put more pressure on Joanne than she already had. But Mrs T persuaded me. She was good at that.

I ended up moving most of the apples down into the root cellar. Joanne never did go out to the milk barn. When I was finished I went into the house to wash my hands and Joanne was there in the kitchen, setting the table for supper. As soon as she saw me I could see her blush as she looked away from me. At that point I wished I’d said “no” but I was already committed.

I was almost as uncomfortable as Joanne when I followed her into the living room. When she saw me she started to turn away. I called her name, probably a little sterner than I should’ve. The look on her face told me that I’d gotten her attention. I really didn’t know what I was going to say. I remember telling her that what had happened, although embarrassing wasn’t “the end of the world” and that I fully understood just how she felt. As soon as I said it I wished I hadn’t. She immediately looked down. We were probably 10 to 12 feet apart at that point. I, more or less, knew that I’d made the situation worse but continued talking. Long story short... I ended up telling her about Elle’s “problem”. On the trip to the orchard I’d told her almost everything, but that, about Elle. My memory of it is that she didn’t believe me at first. The point I remember stressing was that Elle, in spite of her “problem” was living a fairly normal life and that she had let it "get to her". The first thing that Joanne said was something along the lines of “That’s terrible...”. I remember jumping on that and telling her that it wasn’t. I told her that people didn’t judge her on that but accepted it because she was such a nice person. People who cared about her (and I stressed that I certainly did) overlooked it and made their decisions about her based on other more important things. At that time I could see that she had relaxed a bit and continued on. I told her that what had happened in the truck didn’t change anything between us. I told her that it wasn’t her fault and she’d done nothing wrong.

She wasn’t ready to do a dance or anything but clearly she was more at ease with me. I think it was about then that her mother showed up and we joined her in the kitchen. Joanne hadn’t returned to the comfort level that we’d shared in the truck on the way to the orchard but I was satisfied that my talk had helped. I remember thinking that if and when I ever brought Elle to the farm I would have to make sure that Joanne didn’t bring up the subject of Elle’s “problem”.

The fact that I’d been working after classes and living at the racetrack those first few weeks of the semester meant that I really didn’t have a good “read” on the pledges to the fraternity. I’d heard that they really weren’t an impressive group at all. I’ll admit that having heard that I was pretty biased in my first observations of them. The fraternities on campus were put into general categories. There were the “jock” houses who focused on getting the athletes and a couple of “preppie” houses for those who were viewed as being elitist. There were also houses for the “nerds” (now called dorks) or “unibrains”, as we called them. The majority of the houses were considered to be “party” houses and mine fell into that category. What I didn’t realize at first was that after my class had been admitted there was a huge upheaval in the administration. The first thing that was done was to totally restructure the admissions procedure. At the time I applied the college was considered one of the best Liberal Arts schools in the East. Although academics was important, having well rounded students was given almost as much attention. But, starting with the class that was now in their Sophomore year (and were pledges) a whole lot more emphasis was put on academics. The pledge class that I was observing showed it. The group, as a whole, just didn’t seem to have any personality as compared to my class and the guys who were Seniors. We had “characters” galore. After watching the 25 or so pledges go through various hazing exercises I couldn’t find but two or three that left any sort of impression. The rest were sort of "faceless". There were a bunch of us who decided to really “ride” the group and hope that some would just drop out. At that time it was about 3 weeks until “Hell Week” (which included initiation) began. That was the beginning of “The Unholy Alliance”.

To be continued...

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

BACK ON CAMPUS... Adjusting (Part 37b)

I’d set my class schedule up so that my first class wouldn’t be until 10:30am so that I’d be able to continue to work at the racetrack. That meant I now had a heavy afternoon schedule. I was fortunate to get two “seminars” (three class sessions combined into one) along with a regular 50 minute class (for three separate sessions). On MWF I was done around 2pm and and on Tues and Thurs. around 3:30pm. A few days after visiting the farm I got to thinking that I could really deliver Joanne’s pies Monday through Friday with the only inconvenience was in getting over to Elle’s college an hour or so later. I know it was mid week when I returned to the farm and my offer was readily accepted. I was told that my “pay” would be a warm piece (large) of apple pie and a glass (or more) of really fresh milk. It was a deal!

It was in my second week of delivering that Mrs T asked if I could do her (and Joanne) a big favor. They were just about out of apples and wanted me to drive their stake truck up to the orchard and get a fresh supply. It wasn’t something that I would’ve ordinarily volunteered to do but when Mrs T said that Joanne would go with me, how could I say no. The truck was pre 2nd WW Ford and looked pretty ragged. The fact that I’d never driven any other type truck than a pick up was a little daunting but when Mrs T said she’d been driving it for years sort of shamed me into it.

Joanne was in the milk barn washing down the floors when her mother told her of our impending trip. As usual while working in the barn, Joanne was in her coveralls. She had on a pair of rubber boots that were way too big for her. She looked pretty goofy and I’ll admit that I was surprised to see that when she took them off she had her shoes on under them. She didn’t complain about being relieved of her chores as she absolutely hated working in the barn. We headed right for the truck with Joanne giving me directions.

The orchard was about 40 miles due North. The roads she had me on were very narrow and bumpy rural roads and I had a hard time keeping the truck on the road. It seemed like it has a mind of its own, wandering from side to side without me turning the wheel. I was reluctant to go over 40 miles an hour, fearing I’d end up wrecking us. Joanne was quite talkative and we discussed any number of things. I got the answer to why I’d seen so many panties on the washline that first day I’d stopped back in (as well as in a subsequent visit) as her older sister had graduated from college and taken a job at a nearby city. She would make a trip home on the weekends and would leave her wash. We also discussed boys, in general, as well as her feeling about them. As I interpreted it, she was just super shy around them so she still didn’t have a boyfriend. I was able to glean the fact that she did have sort of a crush on a boy from church but he didn’t know about it. That conversation eventually led to me and Elle. I gave her my background with her and the time up to our secret engagement. I left out Elle’s “problem” and just talked about our relationship. Joanne wanted to meet her and I told her that if Elle did come to the college’s Fall House Party I’d bring her out to the farm. By then we were at the orchard.

It was a big orchard and Joanne directed me to an open sided tin roofed shed somewhere in the interior of it. There were about six or so large wooden bins under the roof that held the picked apples. We’d brought a bunch of wooden bushel baskets and took them under the shed. Joanne told me which bin to go to and to make sure the apples didn’t have bruises or rotten spots. She went to another bin and we started filling the baskets. It was obvious that she’d done this before as she had about two filled for one of mine. When all our baskets were filled I loaded them on the back of the truck. We were about ready to leave when this man showed up and Joanne went over to him to pay for the apples. She seemed very sure of herself and I was impressed.

The trip back home was much different. Joanne was quiet and I, trying to be funny, chided her on it. She wasn’t interested. I wondered what had happened to change her mood so severely. I had my hands full keeping the truck on the road so really couldn’t take a good look at her and had to take just quick peeks. Finally, I pleaded with her to tell me what was wrong. I could barely hear her when she told me that she had to go to the bathroom.

I swear I wasn’t happy with that news in spite of some of the things I’ve written. I truly cared about the self worth of this girl and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that her admitting to needing a toilet was very hard and very embarrassing to her. I honestly was embarrassed for her and really wanted to help her, in spite of my proclivity to wetting. I’d noticed on the way to the orchard that there were only two named “towns” on our entire route and neither would realistically qualify as being a town. They both had a post office but only one had anything more and it was a small general store with but a single gas pump and certainly didn't offer a restroom. I tried to think of something to ease her plight and the only thing was to find someplace to pull off the road and to let her find a place to hide while relieving herself. On that particular stretch of road the only place that I could realistically pull off was at a “turn around” used by the snow plows during the winter. It was wide open and there was no place where Joanne could be hidden from cars going in either direction. I tried to reason with her that if she just squatted next to one of the truck tires that no one would be able to see her. But she would have none of it. That was when I first got the notion that she had already wet herself.

To be continued...