My small university hidden in a West Coast college town was unremarkable in nearly every way, even its course offerings were a constant reminder this was no ivy league. It quietly churned out lab assistants, elementary school teachers, and the odd civil engineer. I hadn't decided between geologist or political science. It wouldn't have mattered, either way I suspected I'd find myself trapped in an IT help desk job in any event.

There were of course dorms and a small Greek system, but most of the students crowded into the tiny row houses off campus, squeezing in as many roommates as possible and hoping the landlord didn't notice, while the landlords would tolerate nearly anything that didn't involve having to spend a dime on maintenance or cleaning.

Only one thing about school was vaguely interesting, Stacy, my roommate's girlfriend.

Stacy was a stunning dishwater blonde with bright red lips that alternated between flirtatious smirk and steamy pout. Her flowing hair perpetually draped over one eye sleepily. If I squinted she was the spitting image of the yellow bikinied pinup model draped sensuously across the hood of a Lamborghini in the poster that adorned my bedroom wall and my fantasies throughout high school.

Stacy's permanent bedroom eyes belied a dominant streak and a penchant for playfully starting food fights. I had no clue how Michael my roommate had captured Stacy's attention., he was so proper and fastidious with his appearance, he cringed at the thought of any sort of mess. And so Stacy took pleasure in tormenting me whenever she was visiting. Once while I was crashed in a beanbag chair enjoying a hot fudge sundae, she'd paused, smoothly swiped her lithe finger through the whipped topping, and dabbed the sticky cream heavily down my nose and across my cheek before licking her finger clean with a sleepy, "Mmmmmm." Michael pretended not to notice as I picked my jaw off the floor.

One slightly less dull Thursday night, Stacy and her roommates had invited our entire house to join them for a casual home-cooked meal, they would provide the entree if we would bring dessert. Being broke college students with no ability nor inclination to cook for ourselves, we'd settled on an assortment of cheap, unpleasant frozen banana cream, chocolate cream, and coconut cream pies we'd discovered on special at the local grocery store. The cute Emo cashier looked puzzled at the number of pies we'd purchased, but we were running late, no time to explain.

Stacy and her friends treated us to an amazing taco bar and we set out the pies to thaw as we chatted happily. As luck would have it, Michael sat to Stacy's left while I took the seat to her right. "Can you pass the sour cream and guacamole please?" Stacy asked me, batting her eyelids at me with a slightly deeper pout than usual. I dutifully retrieved the condiments. Stacy smiled sweetly and scooped a large dollop of guac into my shirt pocket, forcing it into my chest with her palm. Next she upturned the sour cream container into my lap. "Oops." she mocked through those pouty lips. My manhood leaped to attention, unnoticed to all but Stacy who returned a knowing wink. I blushed.

The pies for dessert proved to be fairly unpopular, not terribly surprising given our low budget. As we cleared the plates the drinking and small talk resumed. I fancied myself something of an amateur magician, picking up a few bar tricks mainly as ice breakers and to try to pick up girls. I performed a couple of card tricks and vanished my trusty silver dollar much to everyone's delight. I asked for a volunteer. Scott, one of my roommates was a bouncer at a local bar and I knew he always carried handcuffs. After a terse whisper requesting to borrow them in exchange for use of my car next week, he passed me the restraints. "For my next trick, I'd like to make a woman disappear. May I have a volunteer?" I asked, looking directly at Stacy. Rising to the challenge, she stood with that infuriating smirk. "May I put on these handcuffs?" I asked.

"On me or on you?" she grinned. The room erupted in laughter.

"You, please." I rolled my eyes. Stacy nodded and presented her wrists. I theatrically snapped the handcuffs onto Stacy's thin wrists. "Does someone have a tablecloth?" Stacy's friend presented a tablecloth from the nearby kitchen. I tossed the tablecloth over Stacy's gorgeous head while I surreptitiously hoisted one of the pies from the nearby buffet, an awful chocolate cream pie, the artificial flavoring and overpowering chocolate and vanilla scented cream filling the room. "ONE, TWO, THREE!" I shouted before whipping away the tablecloth and grinding the awful dessert into Stacy's perfect features. She emitted an adorable squeak, then an angry growl at having fallen for such an obvious ploy. Stacy stormed off to the bathroom hands still cuffed together as her friends followed her, staring daggers back at me. "See? She's disappeared." I grinned triumphantly to only a handful of dark chuckles. "Uhh, we should go." Michael warned, clearly unhappy at my prank at his girlfriend's expense.

The following Saturday night I arrived home from my work shift to find Stacy and her sexy roommates gathered outside my bedroom door giggling wickedly. Stacy was swinging a set of gleaming chrome handcuffs from her finger lazily. I sighed and presented my wrists behind my back. Stacy snapped the handcuffs on my wrists, pinched my butt playfully and purred, "You'll have to escape these by yourself I'm afraid." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and ground a thick, messy banana cream pie into my face, twisting the pie before sliding the tin up onto my hair. She pushed the door open. Every available square centimeter of my room, my bed, the floor, my desk, my dresser, the chairs, all were covered in those nasty, cheap cream pies.

"The key is in one of the pies in there somewhere. I'll drop by tomorrow to make sure you've found it. Have fun!" she giggled before blowing me a kiss and walking down the hallway, hips swaying hypnotically. Her gorgeous roommates laughed cruelly before following her out the door.