Chapter 1

Perhaps I should have been an actress

Up until my junior year in college I played every role impeccably, until I met him.

I played the compliant daughter of wealthy, socially-connected parents so well, neither of them had an inkling I might have wanted something else, let alone chafed under the expectation.

I played the supremely confident, breathtakingly beautiful girl who had absolute power over any man, and absolute power corrupted me absolutely. It helped me play the quintessential queen of the popular crowd. Supplicants lined up to offer me things, do things for me, just for the opportunity to bask in my presence.

Watch any teen movie. I was the one hated by the vast majority of the other girls. I could see it in their faces. But when you're playing that role, you can't show any indecision, you can't even feel any in their presence: it might show.

I think it's an interesting commentary on the values of our society, and not a little disturbing, that the age is getting ever lower when boys are worshipped as athletes and given special treatment.

It's down to seventh grade in basketball. Middle schools try to recruit the top players away from their neighborhoods, even supplying bogus addresses so they can play for them. These guys don't have much academic pressure either. They get all the help they need, including alteration of grades to keep them eligible.

What do they learn from this? That they are special; that the rules don't apply to them; that almost any kind of behavior they engage in will be tolerated as long as they continue to contribute to victory.

The result for those who don't make it as professional athletes is predictably disastrous: They never learn to control their impulsive behavior; they are not equipped to do anything and often suffer the rest of their lives as a result.

What has this got to do with me, little more than a mere slip of a girl, you may ask? Nothing, really, except you may not realize there is a similar situation for a small number of girls.

We're not necessarily intelligent. We don't excel at athletics. We just have the one personal characteristic most valued by our society - we look good, very good.

I am the archetypal example. I started to notice it in grade school. Guys would offer to provide all kinds of services to me just for the favor of my time. They would carry my books, do my homework and offer to beat each other up, though how that was supposed to be of any value to me I never quite understood.

As I moved up to middle school and high school, I was more revered than our star power forward. I was prom queen not only for the junior and senior proms, but the write-in vote picked me senior prom queen when I was a sophomore, though the principal disallowed it.

In high school I got even better service. Guys did my homework, wrote my papers, wrote my book reports, chauffeured me wherever my fancy desired, bought me things just because I wanted them and granted any other whim that came into my mind.

A perfect example was this nerd named Bill. I mockingly took to calling him Little Willie in a sing song voice just to let him know his place.

Despite the fact that he was younger, he would prep me for tests. He was absolutely amazing. He didn't just go over the material with me. He analyzed it, came up with the questions most likely to be asked on the test and wrote the answers most likely to be successful for the style of the teacher.

How did I reward him for these services? The way I did everyone else: I let him provide them. He got to spend time to bask in my presence.

He foolishly thought he might be entitled to more than that. He asked me out to a movie.

I could have been cruel. I could have told him I was so far out of his league that no matter what he did the rest of his life he would never catch up.

But I was kind. I just told him he was too immature and that when he grew up he could consider asking me again.

The majority of these services were provided by nerds and other lesser individuals, but the elite were not immune to my charms. The quarterback and the star forward had their pick of girls, except me.

With most of the other girls, not only did they have a reasonable expectation that sex would be provided, they could name the particular sex act in which they were interested and the girls would comply.

But my status was so exalted they had no expectation I would do anything for them or with them. I might become involved in serious kissing, but it was the rare occasion on which I "forgot" and allowed one of them to touch my breast - on the outside of my clothing, of course.

Those rules were necessary to maintain my status in high school, but in college, I did have some competition, not serious competition, but competition nonetheless.

It wasn't just that there was competition. I wanted to enjoy some sexual experiences myself, and I was eighteen, which meant I was legal. So I became a bit freer with, of course, the college elite.

Only juniors and seniors need apply. I dated the wealthy, the top athletes and the children of famous people even as a freshman. I was so knock-out, drop-dead gorgeous that I was readily recruited into these circles.

I was also far smarter than your average jock. I knew I could not completely succeed on the work of others. I knew, for example, that I couldn't get anybody to take my college boards for me and would, therefore, need to actually understand much of the work other people did for me in high school.

I also knew I would need to understand much of the material in order to succeed in a good college. And it was important for me to get into a good college because the elite there would be higher quality than the elite at a lesser school. That was important to my overall life plan.

I could have made it on my own. My family had almost limitless money. I guess that's not really making it on my own, and making it on my own was what I wanted to do.

I absolutely could have been a model. But I'd been told it's a lot of work and, from what I had learned when I was young, I could achieve the same or greater level of wealth by marrying well.

I wouldn't marry just for money. But surely there would be wealthy, successful guys out there worthy of loving me. In the meantime, whatever temporary profession I chose, I would have lots of useful contacts to help me generate business.

Best of all, I didn't have to make a choice now. I could pursue other interests, including sexual interests, without interfering with my overall plan. I didn't even have to be especially promiscuous to get the range of experience I desired because, secret's out guys, girls talk. I knew who was hung, who had special talents, whom I could go to if I wanted to try out some kinky experiment.

Not only do girls talk, they especially wanted to talk to me to curry favor. I was the hottest woman on campus and my stature grew steadily until, by my sophomore year, I was an undisputed phenomenon.