Chapter 2

Friday at school is my short day. I had designed it pretty much that way, so that I could start the weekend early. Spring training didn't start until next month, and I had done weights yesterday, so I wouldn't be due in the gym until tomorrow. I was between girlfriends at the time, and none of my teammates had asked for the use of my apartment that night, so I was on my own starting at noon.

Now, before we get back to my apartment and the magical chess set (and trust me, I want to get back there faster than you do), I think I need to tell you a little bit about myself. You already know I'm going to an Ivy League school on an athletic scholarship. Well, not an actual Ivy League school, but one that is consistently ranked academically as high or higher than one of the eight colleges in the actual Ivy League. So you can assume correctly that I'm in good shape. Which I am. At eighteen, I'm 6'1", with green eyes and straight brown hair that I keep just long enough for a girl to run her fingers through.

I've never had a problem dating, though as I said earlier, I've never really dated seriously. I do fairly well, though, and the fact that I got a small write up in the local newspaper as a freshman with potential hasn't done me any harm.

None of the girls I've dated have ever had a problem with me, in or out of bed, outside of the fact that I just don't commit to the long run. I'm even still friends with some of these girls (one or two are friends with benefits).

Yeah, yeah, I know, enough about me, more about the chess set, right? Well, I need to tell you a little bit more about me before returning to my apartment.

You see, I hate cheerleaders. Well, hate is probably a pretty strong word. But I'm not fond of them at all.

Now, I know it's not fair to judge all cheerleaders by the ones who ruined me on cheerleaders. But the cheerleaders at my school were complete and utter bitches, totally focused on social status and such. The one in particular who soured me on cheerleaders was Theresa Randall. We had known each other since grade school, but when she started filling out in eighth grade, she wanted nothing to do with me. She was your stereotypical blonde cheerleader, all about hooking up with the most popular guy in high school.

Now, I was a star athlete in my own right, but I was never head of the 'A-list' at school until my senior year. That year, I was the only athlete who had won a full athletic scholarship, and to a prestigious college no less. The guy Theresa was dating, our school's quarterback, won a partial scholarship to a small state school that you wouldn't have ever heard of unless you lived in that part of the state.

That was also the year my parents actually did something incredible for me, by giving me my graduation present at the beginning of my senior year: a black Ford Mustang convertible.

Within a week of starting school, Theresa was throwing herself at me.

By November, she was wondering why I was having nothing to do with her. By January, she was pissed and trying to make my life miserable. By May, we were both out of high school, and she had failed miserably at trying to ruin my senior year, though not without trying.

Why didn't I date Theresa? Well, there's the fact that she was an uberbitch. And I was seeing someone else. But mainly, I had nothing to do with her because she had treated me like shit for my entire life.

So what does this all have to do with my magical chess set? Well, because of Theresa, I've always had these dark fantasies about what I would have like to do to Theresa sexually. Not whips and chains or anything like that, mind you. And I bet on the BDSM circuit, my fantasies are pretty tame. Still, there were some things I wanted to do to Theresa to put her in her place.

Which brings us to back to my magic chess set.

As soon as I finished my last class for the day, I headed back to my apartment. I was really glad that I hadn't run into anybody I knew, because I doubt that anything I said to them would have been coherent.

When I got home, I locked the front door, made sure all my blinds were closed tight, and pulled out my chess set. A few simple words, and before me were thirty two tiny figurines of the sexiest women in the world.

I picked up my tiny Jessica Biel, now totally nude from the last time I had played with her. I was tempted to restore her to her full size, but I was still a little leery of making one of my captured starlets full sized for the first time. I wanted to restore someone who I thought I could probably subdue and reshrink if something went wrong. Plus, I had already been thinking about a different starlet all morning anyway, So with a mental promise to come back to her later, I regretably put down the figurine of Jessica Biel and picked up the one of Jessica Simpson.

Jessica was wearing the pink bikini from The Dukes of Hazzard. I thought that if something went wrong, I could stop the five foot two Jessica long enough to shrink her down before she escaped. So with a certain amount of trepidation, I put the statue of Jessica down on the floor in front of me and recited the incantation.

Jessica materialized before me, full-sized and beautiful. She looked around in panic, first down at her almost non-existent outfit, and then at her surroundings. Before she bolted, though, her gaze fell on me. She gave me a full smile and kicked off her shoes as she walked toward me.

"Jack, I hope you're as happy to see me as I am to see you." As she said this, she stood in front of me, her hands untying the knot of her bikini on her back. She then reached under her hair and undid the knot behind her neck. I watched in amazement as Jessica's bikini top slid down to the floor.

Jessica gave that inane giggle of hers as she put her hands behind her head, arching her back and thrusting her amazing breasts toward me. I must say, they were impressive. Large as they were, they were still very firm, with their pink medium-sized nipples pointing forward with only a slight downward tilt. When I moved my hands to cup them, Jessica leaned forward to put her hands on my shoulder, leaning her chest into my hands. She moaned as I caressed and kneaded her incredibly soft breasts, and let out a little yelp of pleasure when my thumbs ran over her hardening nipples.

I slid my hands around her back and to her waist, pulling her forward so that she straddled my lap. Jessica brought her right breast to my mouth, her hand going around to the back of my head. I eagerly took as much of her breast into my mouth as I could, letting my tongue swirl around her nipple. Jessica's hips were rocking on my lap, grinding into my groan, as she pulled me closely to her.

I switched from one breast to the other, giving each equal treatment before I pushed Jessica away and off my lap. Her hands reached for the knots holding her bottoms up, but I grabbed her hands, stopping her.