The only child of egghead parents, I’m a geek, I admit. I’m tall and thin, but lousy at basketball and other sports. There are good aspects to being a geek. I’m smart, I get good grades, I ought to get a good job when I graduate from engineering college. Kids in high school asked me for help with homework in sciences, so I at least had that kind of popularity. Girls, even some cheerleaders, wanted my tutoring. But that was all. They didn’t want to tutor me on the subject I was just as interested in as my more handsome or more athletic peers.
To top it all off, I suffered from acne and braces. My first date, at age 16, was my Junior Prom — with my cousin from out of town who danced with a guy on the baseball team. She made me pay by doing some of her homework.
By my Senior year, I got rid of the braces and the acne finally cleared up, leaving me nervous and shy around girls. The teasing I’d endured about dating my cousin persuaded me to sit out the Senior Prom. I’d only had one lousy date and had precisely zero sexual experience.
That summer, I worked on a farm and developed some muscles. My scholarship got me into a school at a good university on the San Francisco peninsula. I figured the Freshman studies would be totally easy for me and I decided to major in Girls, How to Relate.
I didn’t realize how much harder it was to learn about girls than English, Western Civ, even Advanced Calculus. I arrived a few days before class started and went to some mixers arranged for incoming students, but I was still too shy to start conversations with girls. My few attempts were so lame, some of the girls were impolite enough to just walk off, though none insulted me the way some cheerleaders did in high school.
I did get one date in late September, with a rather plain girl named Wendy. We went to a movie and had a cup of coffee together afterwards. I was shy and so was she, but she made an excuse when I asked her out again.
About a week later, I sat in the Student Union working a problem on my calculator.
“Excuse me,” came the voice of a girl.
I looked up to see a very attractive blonde. “You’re Jerry Walsh, right?”
“Yes. Y...you are?” I recognized her from a couple of required liberal arts classes, always admired her, never talked to her.
“Samantha Dickens.” She held out her hand and I stood up to shake. My breathing was rapid and shallow. I fought for control. Samantha didn’t seem to notice, much to my relief. I stood there looking at her.
She sat at my table, on the bench seat running along the wall. “Sit down, Jerry,” she told me.
Unable to trust myself to speak, I obeyed. Samantha, tall and slender, with her rather tight top and short skirt, classic straight nose and blue eyes, might just be the most beautiful girl I’d ever talked with. The bulges below her shoulders were medium, separate, distinctly outlined.
“So I noticed from some of your answers in class that you’re pretty smart. Do you have any idea what you’ll pick for a major?”
“Ummm, some tech science, ee or software, maybe both.” I was comfortable talking about school stuff.
“Wow!” Samantha blinked at me, “Two hard majors. You must be smart.”
“Well, my IQ is 143.” You idiot, stop bragging, I told myself. Desperate to say something better than that, I asked, “What about you, Samantha? W..What major do you think you’ll go for?” That “go for” sounded cool. I’m doing better, I told myself.
“Hey, since we’re going to talk for a while, why don’t you get us some coffee? Or me coffee and you whatever you like.”
“OK,” I said, standing back up and turning away toward the cafeteria. Just in time I realized my next step. Quickly I turned back. “Um...how do you coffee like...I mean...” I forced myself to speak more slowly. “What do you like in your coffee, Samantha?”
Samantha merely smiled at my obvious gaffe, and said, “Cream, two sugars.”
Cream, two sugars, cream, two sugars I repeated to myself as I drew the cups and paid. I added the condiments to the steaming black liquid and carefully placed lids on the cups. I decided to be debonair when I gave Samantha her drink. Forcing a confident smile, I returned to our table. “Here you are, milady,” I said, handing her cup with a swirling motion and a slight bow. You idiot, I told myself, you overdid it.
Samantha didn’t seem to think so. She accepted the coffee with a big smile and said, “Thank you, Jerry, a woman likes to be treated special.” She patted the seat next to her. “Sit here, we can talk easier.”
Amazed at my luck and telling myself not to blow it, I obeyed, sitting next to her, but not touching. No way was I going to risk acting forward. “Um, I wondered what major you might take.” I figured resuming what we’d talked about before was a good idea.
“Right, I remember. I love the outdoors, so I was thinking of wildlife biology, maybe something environmental or ecological, cross-discipline like you.”
“Well, that’s ambitious, too.” Where do I take this from here? “Um, that environmental stuff is very important and getting more important every day as we screw up the world we live in.”
“Yes, it’s up to us women to clean up the mess you men have made of the world.” She eyed me speculatively. I suddenly felt like I was at a test.
“Well...” I stalled. Fall back on the truth. “Well, it’s undeniable that the world’s been run mostly by men and that it’s a mess.”
“So it stands to reason women must fix it, right?”
Careful, I tell myself. “Ummm....isn’t that an unproven hypothesis...however plausible it may be?” I hastened to add.
“But you don’t reject it out of hand. What makes it plausible?”
Uh, oh, she really means this and I don’t know much about it. Maybe I can use this as an in with her. This is the longest I’ve ever talked with a girl this good looking. “Um, Samantha, I really don’t know much about the idea that if women ran the world it would be a better place.” I grinned sheepishly. “I guess that’s a form of male arrogance in itself, right?” Encouraged by her smile and nod, I went on. “Perhaps you could explain more about it to me?” I asked hopefully.
I could hardly believe it when she replied, “I’m sure I can, Jerry,” with a dazzling smile that made me gasp, literally. I’m sure she knew the effect she was having on me, it was so obvious. To my embarrassment, I began to get stiff just from her smile and talking with her!
“Jerry, it’s time for me to be honest with you. I didn’t just meet you by accident, it was planned.” She saw my crestfallen look. I was sure she just wanted tutoring or something like that, just like all the other beauties. “Please hear me out,” she went on. “It’s different from whatever you’re thinking, I promise you.
“I’m from a rather secretive sorority. We believe the gender roles in our society need adjustment, so we have a male auxiliary. There’s a hazing process and only three males a year are allowed admission. If you are accepted, you’ll have to do exactly what we say....” Samantha paused dramatically and leaned toward me, her voice becoming a hoarse, arousing whisper, like Lauren Bacall asking Bogie if he knew how to whistle. “...and if you’re accepted, you’ll be granted, from time to time, certain very exclusive privileges” (She put her hand very high on my thigh and my penis throbbed to full erection instantly.) “and now I definitely mean what you're thinking about, and more. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. Are you interested?”
Was I interested? How could I not be? I gasped, hyperventilating, finally croaking out “Yes!”
“Good, I thought you would be,” Samantha said confidently. “Relax, dear, take your time to recover from the shock.” She patted my leg, which did not help my breathing at all.
Slowly, I got my breathing under control. “Tell me more, please,” I said eagerly.
Samantha grinned. “You and several other boys will compete in an elimination contest, like March Madness, except it’s single elimination, and none of our contests are in the NCAA, let me tell you,” she said with a wink. “To get started, read and sign this waiver and I’ll tell you more.” She fished a piece of paper from her backpack and handed it to me with a pen.
Forcing myself to concentrate, I read the document carefully. It said that I was applying to be a member of the Theta Delta Kappa Auxiliary, that I had a 16 2/3% or greater chance of being a successful candidate, that I could withdraw my candidacy or the sorority could terminate my candidacy at any time. I must agree to hold all proceedings of the sorority and the auxiliary private and privileged. I must be at least 18 years of age and not offended by material of an adult and sexual nature, though I was free to refuse to participate in any repugnant hazing ritual or act. However if I did so, I would thereby terminate my candidacy. Stated positively, I must obey any and every command of any member of the sorority.
To my surprise, it said that alcohol and drugs were strictly forbidden at all hazing and initiation rituals, contests, games, or any other official sorority activity. The sorority agreed that, while some hazing might be embarrassing or painful, none would risk injury or death. Safety would be enforced by officers of the sorority.
I sighed this rather surprising document without hesitation and handed it to Samantha for safekeeping.
“All right, Jerry. I knew you’d be interested, and I hope you’re a successful candidate. You and the other candidates will meet the women at the sorority house this Friday night at 6:00 for a barbecue and the first two rounds of elimination. More will be explained to you then. Give me your phone number; we’ll text you the address around 5:00 Friday. Dress casually, but wear new clean undies. Someone may want to inspect you.
“Now, you should understand that I’m newly inducted to the sorority myself and one of my duties it to notify those boy’s we’ve identified, so don’t think I’m coming on to you. If you see me talking to someone else like this, don’t come by and don’t take it personally.
“Now that that’s out of the way, if you’re a successful candidate, during your time of service to the sorority, you will no doubt be selected to be fucked by several members, including possibly me. I do hope you are successful.” She gave me that dazzling smile and actually patted my stiff cock under the table. No girl had ever done that and I almost came right there, but I fought down the urge. “Right now, I have a class,” she said, standing up and walking away, her short skirt swirling around her thighs, heels tapping.
I stared at her, mesmerized. Just before she reached the hall, she turned and gave me her max smile again.
“Whew!” I gasped. I noticed several guys looking at me enviously. That never happened to me before. I grinned, and got up, holding my backpack in front of my so no one could see my boner. I tried to make it seem casual, but I doubt I did.
I cut my classes for the first time that day. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except what I’d just heard. I went back to my dorm room, which fortunately was a single, and played with myself, replaying the conversation and attempting to imagine what it would be like to have Samantha take me to bed. If I won, I’d lose my virginity for sure.
Thinking about this was so much fun, and I knew if I came I’d be done, so I brought myself to the brink several times and stopped, only to resume soon after. Finally, over an hour after I started, lying naked on my bed, I couldn’t help spraying.
The next day, as we all filed out of class, I got next to Samantha. She gave me a smile, but not her TCD, Total Complete Dazzler, as I’d named it while visualizing it. “Samantha, may I ask you a question?”
“Sure, but I might not be able to answer it.”
“Well, these competitions. Are they, like, strength contests?”
She laughed and smiled. “No, they’re more like endurance contests. I really shouldn’t even say that. Now run along, little boy.” She winked at me, so I didn’t take offense. I watched her legs as she went down the hall. I wasn’t too surprised when she started talking to a guy in my calculus class, Chris. I figured I’d see him Friday night.
I really wanted to win. The idea of a chance to have sex with a beauty like Samantha was beyond any dream I’d had before. Now it was possible, but I only had a 16.66 repeating percent chance of winning. How could I increase my odds? If I did so, I’d also decrease the other candidates chances and they wouldn’t know it. That would likely be enough of a break for me to make it.
Ok, this is something I don’t know much about, I thought. But I do know it’s feminist and sexual and involves endurance. Now with that, I can do some research and figure out what they want to eliminate. I sat down at the computer.
I won’t bore you with the details of my search, but I discovered several things I thought would be helpful. Some were surprisingly ordinary, like diet and exercise, but I learned about Kegel exercises and started practicing them, tightening up as I sat at the computer. Lack of stress was supposed to help, a poser for an overachiever like me. If I went to class, I’d have some stress, but if I didn’t, I’d wonder what I was missing. Finally, I decided to pretend I was an athlete preparing for a big match. I got acquaintances in each of my classes to agree to record them for me and took the week off. A genius IQ ought to be of some value!
My research took a very interesting sideline when I came across the words “female domination.” Most of what I found scared and aroused me at the same time, frankly. I saw a cartoon that showed a leather and lingerie clad babe riding a frightened-looking man while brandishing a riding crop before his eyes. He looked up at the ceiling as he lay on this back and read a sign which read, “Substantial penalty for early withdrawal.” To me, this was more a clue than a joke.
I quickly figured out that the eliminations would have to do with how long you could last without ejaculation and how much pain you could take. I was sure I was right. I went into full training immediately. I spanked myself with a strap, alternating that with masturbation for long periods and no ejaculation. I found I could take more pain if I started light and built up slowly. I liked the tingling afterwards. I kept to my routine of running and weight training.
At 4:30 Friday, I finished my last self-spanking and masturbation session with a big, relieving spray. I knew I’d be drained when any endurance contest about cumming began. At 5:00, I got the text and the address with an admonition not to be late. I showered, shaved, and dressed, selecting attractive, modern briefs with a swirling pattern in purple and blue and blue socks. I wore brown slacks and a blue, short-sleeved tailored shirt.
I arrived five minutes before the deadline. The sorority house lay in a compound, with a gated pair of doors evidently for a circular drive and a high wall that ran the length of the block. Behind loomed a dormered four story wooden structure. A smaller gate to the right side of the auto gates was open and a beautiful brunette greeted me there, introducing herself as Angela. I told her my name and that Samantha had invited me, so she admitted me, her deep cleavage exposed by the scoop neck of her black, form-fitting dress.
Angela put a numbered necklace around my neck, evidently for identification. “Don’t take it off,” she admonished me. At her instruction, I walked around the mansion with its spacious porch, wide doors with stained glass depicting Diana the Huntress. In the back, the party was under way. Samantha spotted me and detached herself from a small group of boys and women.
“Jerry! So good to see you!” She glanced at her watch. “A little early, that’s great.” She gave me her TCD, and I grinned back. Holding my hand, she guided me to the large barbecue, tended by two other boys, well dressed, but wearing incongruously frilly aprons. One asked if I wanted a hamburger or hot dog and I chose the burger.
Soon, with my burger on a plate and juice in a glass, I followed Samantha to a small group of boys and women standing around a small table. I put my food down after taking a bite of the burger. Samantha introduced me to the folks. “Chris, I think you know from calculus. Next to him is Susan, our bustiest blonde. She’s very popular, but very selective. Chris, you should be so lucky. Staring rudely down her cleavage, hoping no one notices, is Zach. Tear your eyes away, Zach, and say hello to Jerry.”
First Chris, then Zach and I locked eyes. We, who never engaged in, let alone won, physical contests, were now rivals for the opportunity to mate with several gorgeous females. If I’d had a knife, I would cheerfully have stabbed them, and I’m sure they felt the same. “Chris, good to see you again. Nice solution you found on Monday. Zach, nice to meet you.” I put out my hand. Wow, was this really me? I really rose to the occasion. Literally, as the next person I greeted was Susan. I dropped Zach’s hand fast and forced my eyes to focus on Susan’s blue eyes, not her swelling bust. Was that hard! So was my dick, but that was OK in this gathering.
I held out my hand to Susan, recalling how Samantha reacted to my flourish and calling her milady. “Enchante,” I said.
With a smile, Susan held out her hand, palm flat. I placed my palm under hers and bent over, still maintaining eye contact, and gently kissed the back of her hand, earning another TCD of approval.
“Jerry. Ever the charmer,” said Samantha. “Now meet Dorothea.”
Dorothea’s back had been to me. She turned, and I gasped. She was regal, untouchable, an object of worship. Her heavily made up eyes regarded me coldly. Coiffed black hair emphasized her tall, slim frame, exposing dusky skin and large, rounded breasts. Her floor length dress was split and one leg, thrust forward, was clad in black nylon with a wide lace welt, held up by a taut garter strap.
I was determined not to stutter. I bowed my head and glanced up, meeting her eyes for a moment, then flickering away to one side. “I am, always, your obedient servant,” I said.
“Of course.” She shrugged and turned away. I was abashed and dropped my head, staring at the ground.
“Eat, drink and be merry,” Samantha said to me. “You need your strength for the competition.”
I was alarmed. Had she set me up with the remark about endurance only to tell me now it was about strength? However, she’d told me to do something, so I obediently took a bite of the burger and a swig of juice.
Samantha put her arm around me and put her lips to my ear. “Dorothea did not deign to speak to Chris or Zach. You’re doing well, little boy.”
My eyebrows flew up. I was OK! Whew! I smiled at Samantha, dramatically wiping my brow with the back of my hand, earning a TCD.
A metal bell rang melodiously, attracting everyone’s attention. Angela stood on a table by the barbecue, using it as an impromptu dais. She announced, “Ladies, all 18 supplicants, or guests, contestants, or victims, whatever you wish to call them, are here on time. The doors are locked and we can move to the next step whenever Dorothea, our President, decides.” She stepped down from the table, assisted by two of the guests. One touched her ankle and I saw her slap him. I thought he deserved it.
Dorothea, standing on the rear porch, draped with wisteria and fronted by rhododendrons, said, “In 27 minutes, we’ll all go inside for the real fun to begin. Until then, eat, drink, and meet one another.”
In that 27 minutes, I met several people, male and female, but names and faces are not my forte, so I couldn’t keep them straight, however I tried.
At 7:00, when we started losing light, the bell rang again. Angela stood on the steps where Dorothea had been for the previous announcement.
“Let’s all gather in the living room here through these doors. Supplicants, you are to stand in the center of the room.” She turned and entered the house, the rest of us following.
The living room was huge. I later learned some dividers had been removed for this occasion. Since we entered from the side door, we faced the side of a wide staircase that descended to the street entrance. The room was high-ceilinged with a full sized door, partially open, under the stairs. We boys nervously stood in the middle of the floor as the residents took up seats on chairs placed in a semicircle in along one wall, hiding the huge fireplace from us. We boys eyed each other with anxiety, hostility, fear, and curiosity mingled in various degrees.
When all the women were seated (I never saw so many crossed legs and short skirts in one place before in my life.), Dorothea stood up to speak. A silence fell over us all.
“Welcome, supplicants, to Theta Delta Kappa. You have all been invited by our Freshwoman members to apply to our auxiliary, where you will have the duties, pleasures, and great rewards of serving the beautiful, capricious, and demanding members you see before you.
“I will explain a bit more of how the application process works. There are 18 supplicants. Shortly, you will be divided into six cohorts of three each and paired with three members for your first elimination heat — and I do mean heat, as you will learn. Two of the members will provide your first test, and the third will explain and administer the test rules. Six of you will be eliminated in the first heat and told to leave. The twelve semi-finalists will gather here for refreshments prior to the second heat. A different team of three will administer the second heat, and six more unsuccessful supplicants will leave. The six remaining supplicants will meet here once again and be given instructions to prepare for the third heat, which is always very interesting. This final test yields our three successful supplicants.
“Now for a motivational speech. You are all, frankly, nerds and geeks. That’s one reason we selected you. None of you have had much success getting girlfriends, let alone sexual partners. Many of you remain virgins, I’m certain. Yet before your eyes are twenty beautiful woman with lovely hair and faces, exposed bosoms, and flashing thighs, all for your stimulation. Every year, we admit five Freshwomen, so there are always 20 members in residence. Most of us are bisexual and a minority are heterosexual. All of us crave sexual satisfaction from a trained, obedient male from time to time. So, if you are a successful supplicant and join the auxiliary, and learn your lessons well, you may be selected to provided sexual gratification to as many as 40 members during your career, not to mention visiting alumna and guests. You will have the opportunity to pleasure more ladies than the most popular BMOC or jock on the campus. All you have to do is survive this weekend and obey.
“Now, form a line facing us. It doesn’t matter who stands next to whom, just do it quickly. Good, that’s it. I like to see such rapid obedience. Beginning with you,” she pointed to the guy on our right end, count off by 6s.”
We counted off fast, and, directed now by Angela, soon stood with our two opponents of the same number. I’d seen both of these guys around campus, but didn’t know them. One was short and a bit pudgy, with thick glasses. The other was taller and bigger than me and I thought he was a borderline nerd. The other groups stood in small clusters like ours.
Angela, carrying a clipboard, approached our group with two beauties, one a slender blonde, the other a more busty woman with reddish-brown hair. Both wore multi-colored, form-fitting dresses with a floral pattern. “All right, boys, I’m your judge and these two lovely women will give you the test.” Turning to her companions, she asked, “It’s a warm night, shall we go outside to the alcove by the pool?”
They both agreed and we followed the women back outside and around to another side of the house to a pool under lights. Angela sat at the table off to one side and directed us to stand facing the two woman.
“OK, boys, here’s how it goes. You aren’t allowed to speak unless asked a direct question. When I say ‘Strip,” take off your clothes as fast as you can. If you can get your pants over your shoes, ok. You can leave your shoes and socks on or just your socks. As soon as you’re naked, start playing with your cock. When it’s fully hard, say, ‘boner.’ If any of you can’t get it up, you’re automatically eliminated. If you lose an erection once it’s achieved, you’re automatically eliminated.
“Now my main job as judge, besides timing your stripping and time to erection, is to ensure you don’t cheat. The test is you must not stop stroking yourself. If you do, I’ll eliminate you. The first one to cum loses and the heat is over. I’ll tell the winners to stop stroking when the first drop of cum flies from the losing dickhead. Any questions, boys?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head to one side.
“What do they do?” asked the pudgy boy, pointing to the two woman waiting before us.
“You'll see,” said Angela with a smirk. I had an idea, but said nothing. “Any more questions?”
There were none, so she said, “Strip!”
I already placed my hands by my waist, so I whipped my shirt over my head and swiftly undid my belt. My pants dropped and I reached down to tug off my shoes. I skimmed off my undies, using one hand. I held my stiffening dick in the other. I put pressure on it and stroked fast at first, wanting to pump it up. This was the first time I’d been naked in front of woman as a grown boy, and I loved it. The two woman looked at me with interest, and I popped right up. “Boner!” I was first! I slowed my stroking down to last as long as I could.
The woman with darker hair pointed to my stiff cock and said, “Look, Sofia, that’s a nice thick one. Do you prefer longer or thicker?”
“I like long, a challenge to deep throat,” Sofia answered, “but I agree, this is a nice one. Not too much hair on the balls.”
My breath came in deep gasps. I was embarrassed and excited to have my cock discussed by these two beauties. I heard the bigger guy, then the short one say that they’d gotten it up also. Darn, I hoped I’d win by default.
Sofia’s attention was diverted. “Oh, look, the last one up is nice and long, Daniela. But I’ve taken longer ones in my mouth. Boys will do anything for you to repeat that experience.”
Daniela pointed to the tall guy’s stiffie. “This one’s right in the middle, perfectly useful. I’ve had at least a dozen like this. With proper training, any cock except tiny ones can be useful to us.”
I kept stroking myself, enjoying the physical sensations, but humiliated. How could I, a virgin, satisfy these experienced, demanding women? My best hope lay in Dorothea’s acknowledgement that we might be virgins and what these woman said about training the winners. I continued pumping myself slowly, determined not to cum.
Daniela smiled at us. “I like it when you guys have hardons. That means you’re ready if I choose to use you. That won’t happen to any of you tonight, but it almost certainly will for the three winners.”
In the brief silence that followed, we heard a voice from the front of the house in teasing, feminine tones. “’Bye now, Little One. Better luck next time. Oh, I forgot, there isn’t a next time. Ha, ha.”
Sofia grinned. “Well, your chances are better. Somebody couldn’t get it up.”
Daniela said, with a lilting, teasing voice. “This first test is called the Cockteasing Challenge and Sofia and I are your official cockteasers. We’re both bisexual and make out with each other a lot.” As she said this, the woman turned sideways to us and lifted their hemlines almost to their panties. They gave us big smiles.
All three of us gasped. I stared, but forced myself not to stroke harder or grip tighter.
Angela spoke sharply. “Closing your eyes to avoid the tease is another way to get eliminated immediately. Keep your eyes open, you.” I don’t know to whom this was addressed; I couldn’t take my eyes from the sexy beauties.
The teasing got hotter. The woman faced us, bent down on their heels and spread their legs wide, flashing Daniela’s white panties and Sofia’s pastel blue pair.
“Ohh,” I groaned as a drop of precum lubricated my cockhead. No woman had ever done that for me before and now these two beauties. I slowed down even more, afraid for the first time I might lose.
The woman grinned, opening and closing their thighs while we contestants stared and stroked.
“Nice try, but you lose,” came the same mocking voice from the front.
“These boys are lasting well,” commented Sofia. “Let’s give them something more interesting to stare at.” The woman stood up and suddenly pulled their upper dresses down. I gasped again and stared. My stroking increased and I exerted a mighty effort to slow back down. I sure didn’t want to. I decided to try to scientifically describe and catalog the four beautiful breasts to distract myself.
Daniela’s were larger, but firm with bigger nipples. Sofia’s were smaller, more widely separated, with smaller, but better defined aureola’s...this distraction ain’t working, I said to myself, with difficulty forcing myself to slow once again.
Then I got some encouragement. Chubby moaned aloud and said, “No, no, I don’t want to!”
Angela said, “Keep stroking, boy, but hold it in! You can do it!”
Daniela and Sofia grinned at each other. Sofia was very cruel. “Oh, Pudgy, I’m glad you’re going to lose. I never liked you or your cock anyway. Look what you’re missing.” With that, and a patronizing smile to Chubby, she fondled Daniela’s breast.
That nearly made me cum! I’d always wanted to see something like that. Chubby, groaning and sobbing, “No, no,” was cumming for sure, but I didn’t look. My eyes were riveted to the two sexy beauties.
Daniela was just about as cruel as Sofia. “Enjoy your big cum, Pudgy. Think of all the opportunities you’re missing as it feels sooo good, dribbling away.”
“Ok, you two, let go of your cocks and enjoy your victory. Congratulations,” said Judge Angela. “Pudgy, get dressed and leave. Now. We have no further use for losers.”
I felt such relief! I don’t know how far Daniela and Sofia would have gone to make us cum, but I didn’t think there was a limit. I let my hand dangle, wiping a bit of precum on my thigh and twitching my cock with my PC muscle. I liked being erect in front of the woman.
I glanced at Pudgy. Tears streamed down his face as he tugged his pants up, shrugged on his shirt and fled, carrying his shoes. Any feelings of empathy were drowned by my feeling of relief as I realized I’d passed the first heat. The other winner and I, now bitter rivals, exchanged glances with narrowed eyes as he reached for his pants.
This action brought an immediate and sharp rebuke from Angela. “No one told you to get dressed, boy. A servant will see to your discarded clothes. Remove your socks and quick, get back to the living room.
I quickly shed my socks and headed back inside. I wondered what all the notes Angela took on her clipboard meant. At the living room door, a member handed us sport bottles of water and asked if we needed to use the facilities. I was still semi-erect and peeing was the farthest thing from my mind. My rival similarly took the water and refused the offer to pee. Most of the remaining participants were already in the living room. My rival and I were the last of the naked males and only Angela, Daniela, and Sofia needed to take their seats to complete the line of women. We naked males, embarrassed and humiliated when we ought to have felt victorious, looked anywhere but at each other.
There was plenty to look at, as before. All twenty woman sat in their semicircle, chatting among themselves or regarding the naked males with a bored expression. They nevertheless displayed their cleavage and legs to advantage. I was particularly drawn to one redhead whom I unaccountably hadn’t noticed before. She was busily thumbing through a rather large book that lay in her lap. Her hair hung by her head and down behind her shoulders. Her cleavage was deep and she crossed her thighs as she pointed to one of the males and whispered a comment to her neighbor, a brunette. She crossed her legs and I saw her seamed stocking pulled up to a taut point by her rear garter. The sight made my cock rise again. I knew better than to touch it without permission, and besides, I wanted to minimize stimulation for the two remaning heats.
Dorothea stood and called the meeting to order. The buzz of conversation stopped immediately.
“The first heat is over and we have...eleven supplicants remaining. Congratulations, successful masturbators.” She lightly clapped her hands and all the woman joined in. “Let’s hear the reports from the judges. Paula, one of your contestants was the first to fail?”
“Yes, Madame President. One contestant couldn’t achieve an erection within two minutes of removing all his clothes. I dismissed him and he attempted to argue. I kicked his sorry ass and threatened to kick his useless, inoperative balls if he didn’t get out of the way. He left tearfully. Both of the other contestants manfully continued stroking their erections despite the distraction. The two appointed cockteasers complimented the victors, and I explained they were locked in a sudden death tournament. The two cockteasers then complimented each boy’s penis and said how much they hoped one would win so they could take him to bed. This tease was successful in extracting reluctant sperm in five minutes, eight seconds to the first pitiful drips. The loser was rather gracious, I must say. He was very crestfallen and sad, but wished the successful supplicant the best. Raise your hand, you are a winner.”
A short, thin guy with kinky hair raised his hand. Again, the subdued applause.
Four more judges recounted how their contestants fared. All others had survived the penis inspection stage, but three hapless boys failed and gave up their cum when their cockteasers exposed their panties.
Two other groups lasted until the bared breast stage, but only our group held out until one woman fondled another’s breast. All winners got applause.
Dorothea summed up the results of the first heat. “Because one silly boy couldn’t even get it up for us, that group has two losers, thus enhancing everyone’s odds and slightly complicating our contest. Madame Secretary, what is the rule in such cases?”
The gorgeous redhead I’d noticed a few moments before stood up, holding the book before her. “Madame Chairwoman, fellow board members, fellow members, and surviving supplicants, the situation of eleven, rather than 12, supplicants, surviving the first heat has arisen three times in the history of Theta Delta Kappa. In each case, the second heat consisted of five groups, four of two and one of three. The group of three has been chosen by drawing straws by the judges for the third heat. The short straw judge oversees three supplicants, so she is the loser...or winner, depending on your personal bent.” She strutted, heels tapping on the floor, to a desk against one of the walls. Simply watching her walk was a privilege. She opened a drawer and withdrew five straws, exhibiting them so we could all see four were long and one was short. She then walked along the line of women, offering the straws to the judges. As it turned out, Angela drew the short straw and reacted with a laugh, which I was at a loss to interpret.
Angela then stood to explain the second heat. “This next heat is called the Paddling Pound-OffS At most six of you will survive elimination round. Occasionally, one or more supplicants will decline to compete, raising the odds for the remainder. I hope that doesn’t happen this year, as such an unmanly retreat makes for a less boisterous contest and we’ve already lost one screamer...I mean supplicant.
“Well, bless me, if that wasn’t a giveaway, I don’t know what could be. Supplicants, this heat means heat in more ways than one. Each of you will be assigned a Tormentress.” Here, she gestured to the beautiful redhead and a brunette who were off to one side, working on a chart. “The secretary and her assistant are making the assignments as I speak. No one will be assigned a tormenter who was their cockteaser or judge in the first heat. We Dominas like to spread the joy. For many of you, tonight is our only chance to put you in your place, and we intend to make the most of it.
“Your Tormentress will alternately stimulate your penis with her hand and spank, paddle, or cane your bottom. Thus, the multiple meanings of heat, as applied to this test. Your Tormentress will become hot because she likes inflicting pain and frustration on males - it’s sooo good for you, more than any of you know at this time. You will become hot with frustration as you did in the first heat, and your red bottom will become very hot indeed as the chastisement escalates.
“Poor boys, there are so many ways for you to flunk out. If, at any time, you fail to achieve an erection within 90 seconds of stimulation by your Tormentress, you will fail. If you cum, you will fail. If you squirm away from your Tormentress when she inflicts pain on you, you will fail. If you cover your ass with your hand, you will fail. So many poor boys lose out on this rule. I love it when boys flunk out this way. It’s only natural to protect yourself from pain, but if you do it tonight, you’re sent home without even cumming. You go home and play with yourself, trying to imagine the great pleasures you missed. Any attempt to influence your chastisement or teasing, you lose. You can end the test at any time by saying, “911,” so don’t say that by accident. Unlike the previous test, where you were forbidden to speak, in this test you are encouraged to give tongue to your pain and pleasure. Because the cacophony of slapping sounds, screams, cries, and grunts of pleasure is pleasing to all of us, this heat is held in this room and is an absolute elimination. The first five will be rejected and the surviving six will be given instructions for the third heat.”
Angela sat down and Dorothea again stood to address us, rather formally this time. “Madame Secretary, are you ready to distribute the assignments?”
The redhead stood and said, “Yes, I have, Madam Chairwoman.” She resumed her seat, crossing her legs. I openly stared at her exposed stocking and thigh, my cock twitching in response. Her assistant handed slips of paper to several of the seated women.
When she was done, Dorothea said, “Now, Tormentresses and judges, form your groups and await the signal to begin.” She carried a small valise, took a paper from the secretary and strode across the floor, her heels tapping, legs exposed by the split in her black dress nearly all the way to the juncture of her thighs. She headed for me!
“Number 10, I am your Tormentress. I hope you are successful, because that way I’ll frustrate and hurt you the most.” She favored me with a big smile.
I felt this lady deserved the utmost respect. “I’m honored to receive whatever you feel is right for me, Mistress,” I said. I dropped to my knee and focused on her black high heels. I hoped my reading gave me good clues what to do.
“You may rise,” said Dorothea. “Go to the line of chairs and bring one here.”
It was only a few steps and I soon returned with a chair. I placed it where Dorothea indicated. She pointed to my water bottle, then to the floor. I took a drink and put down the bottle.
Angela stood next to her with a clipboard. “I’m your judge this time and I need a chair.”
When I returned with the second chair, two other members, a brunette and a black woman with an Afro stood there, watching me dispassionately. Angela indicated where I should place her chair. After doing so, I guessed it was a good idea to stand next to Dorothea’s chair with my hands behind my back. I was aware that my cock was partially erect. I noticed Dorothea had extracted a wooden paddle and a rod of some sort with leather woven around it from her valise and placed them on the floor by her chair. All the Tormentresses had similar equipment.
Chris and another guy whom I didn’t recognize hastily brought up two chairs. They placed them to either side of Dorothea’s chair and stood by them as I did. We boys faced the side entrance to the yard and had our backs to the stairs. Angela’s chair faced ours. The other groups were forming similarly oriented arrays. Angela sat and the other women moved toward their seats. I stood behind Dorothea’s, holding it gently with my palms out. She favored me with a smile and indicate with a gesture I should resume my stance to her right. I did so, practicing Kegels to maintain or improve the partial erection I sported.
A low rumbling noise behind us distracted us all. I craned my neck to look and saw the two boys who’d been at the barbecue wheeling a cart with a large, double-faced clock toward out of the space under the stairwell. They placed it where all the judges could easily see it.
The redhead stood by the clock and addressed us all. “The judges will record times and other significant events as the heat continues. After I start the clocks, synchronized so the left face shows minutes and the right face shows seconds, all supplicants have 90 seconds to achieve a full erection. After that, supplicants, obey your Tormentress. Judges, is everyone ready?” A chorus of affirmatives answered her. “Then I’ll start the clocks...now!” she pressed a remote and the second hand began to move.
Dorothea wasted no time. She grasped my penis and squeezed it gently. “You’re partially erect already, boy,” she said.
I gasped. No one had ever held my penis before. It felt sooo good! It expanded and thickened instantly. Dorothea stroked it and ran her thumb over the tip. “Ohhh,” I groaned. Dorothea’s minidress was very low cut, affording me an exciting view down her cleavage. A necklace supported a colorful metal butterfly in her cleavage. I couldn’t take my eyes from the sight. Dorothea gripped me rather tightly and stroked me very slowly. My breathing was deep and I made a conscious effort to slow it down. “Oh, that feels good, Mistress, thank you.”
“Do you run your thumb over the tip of your cock like this when you play with yourself, boy?” Dorothea asked.
“Yes, Mistress, I do.”
“Does it feel better when I do it for you or when you do it yourself?” Dorothea’s tone had a teasing, condescending lilt that enhanced the erotic effect of her actions and questions.
“It feels a lot better when you do it, Mistress. A whole lot better. Ohhh, ahhh. Thank you, Mistress.”
“Are you close to cumming, boy?”
“No, Mistress, but you sure make me feel very, very good.”
“Why, here’s your first drip of precum, the signal for your first spanking. Lie here over my thighs,” she said, pointing to her lap. Her skirt separated over her thighs, showing the lacy tops of her stockings. I stared at the sexy sight. I felt truly frightened, certain my practice spankings would be nothing like the reality. With a gulp, I lowered myself, gripping the chair leg to prevent me from trying to protect myself. Despite my anxiety, my cock was still fully aroused and I found the weave of Dorothea’s nylon against my tip exciting.
Dorothea rubbed my cheeks with her hand for a while, which felt very good. Then, pop, pop, pop, pop, she started smacking me, alternating cheeks. She wasn’t going very fast. It felt kinda good at first, much to my surprise, like a hard massage. I heard some spanks from the other side of the room. Dorothea gradually made the spanking harder and faster, but it still wasn’t as hard as I’d given myself in training. Smack, smack, smack, smack. She kept alternating cheeks and soon, it began to hurt. By now, the room was filled with slapping sounds. I started a bouncing motion on her lap. To my surprise, I was still partially erect. I concentrated on how nice Dorothea’s legs felt against my cock and it distracted me from the pain - and stiffened me up again. I wouldn’t have said the spanking felt good, but I didn’t mind it. The thought that I sometime might be selected to have sex with these woman was a tremendous incentive.
“Stand up, boy,” commanded Dorothea. She handed me my sports bottle.
“Yes, Mistress,” I said as I obeyed. I drank and returned the bottle to the floor. I heard the other boys in our group getting their bottoms smacked. My eyes went back and forth between Dorothea’s expansive cleavage and her firm thighs.
“Well, you’re still stiff,” Dorothea said as she grasped me again. “That means you must like being spanked by a woman. What a good boy you are, number 10.”
“Thank you, Mistress. Uhhh, uhhhh.” The stroking felt much better than before. I thrust my hips in time with her motion, then, with an effort forced myself to stop. I figured that motion would no way help me maintain control.
Dorothea continued questioning me with that seductive, condescending voice. “Has this penis ever explored the depths of a woman’s sex?”
“No, Mistress, I am a virgin, a very curious and eager virgin.” Rising pleasure elicited a series of gasps.
“Very good, boy, you won’t have so much to unlearn. So many males think their pleasure is important, but it’s not. We’ll teach you the art of pleasing a woman, and your own sexual pleasure will follow - sometimes. Does that appeal to you, boy?
“Yes, Mistress, all of it, your pleasure first,” I managed to gasp. I’d learned well from my week of cramming.
“Here’s more of your precum. I’m going to keep stimulating you. Have other women played with this penis or am I the first?”
“You’re the first, Mistress,” (My voice rose with each word, expressing the degree of pleasure I felt.) and it feels sooo goood!”
“I like it when you’re loud, boy. Does that mean that you’re close to cumming?”
“No, Mistress, I’m not, but it means it feels so good when you touch me there. Oh, oh....”
At that moment we were interrupted by a wail of despair. “No, no, I don’t want to! No! I can’t...oh, oh, oh.” The heartfelt cries ended in sobs.
“Loser blew his wad, loser blew his wad,” all the woman chanted together. Dorothea did not miss a stroke. I heard a few loud smacks from various corners of the room. Cries of “Ouch” and the like filled the air. I felt glad. I only had to outlast four more rivals.
“You’re one step closer to winning, boy. Now don’t follow his example and cum! In a moment, I’m going take you back over my knee and paddle you. That will hurt a lot more than the handspanking. But if you take your paddling well and maintain your nice stiff erection, I’ll give you a reward. Now get over my thighs.”
With a deep breath, I lay across her lap, my stiff, dripping cock pressed against her. I wondered what the reward might be. The sight of her breasts or panties? To touch...”Ow!” I gasped as the first blow landed. That paddle really stung!
“Take it, boy, take it. A good paddling is just what a boy needs.”
Dorothea really wailed into me. I couldn’t help but cry out as each smarting blow landed. “Ow! Ouch! Oooohhh!” I bounced up and down, nearly forgetting about the reward. I concentrated on doing Kegels as I jounced about on her lap. Dimly, I heard other boys’ cries, similar to mine. The main sound, though, was the crack of paddles on buttocks.
One boy’s voice rose above all the sounds in an agonized shriek. “Stop, you sadistic fucking bitches. Fuck you! Stop! I don’t want to be around you fucking assholes!” With my head down, I couldn’t tell what happened, but after a few seconds I heard the women’s taunting refrain, “Can’t take the paddle, can’t take the paddle!”
Dorothea never slowed or seemed distracted by the commotion. I gritted my teeth, determined to hang on. I gripped the chair legs tighter when I realized one hand had released and moved toward my buttocks. I remembered my possible reward and made sure to rub my cock on Dorothea’s nylon-sheathed thighs and to keep going with the Kegels, though I was in a lot of pain. “Oh, Dorothea, this hurts a lot!, “I shouted. “A lot!”
“Of course it does, boy. I love hurting boys and I know how much good it does you. Get ready, I’m going to really teach you a lesson with the paddle now.”
MMy eyes widened and I took a deep breath. She had more in store for me? She sure did, both force and speed. “Ahhhhhhoooohhhhh,” I cried, beyond words as she slapped my inflamed bumcheeks again and again. I kicked my legs in a fruitless attempt to dispel the pain. I kept tightening my Kegels and rubbing myself on my punisher, desperately trying to make the pleasure in my cock overcome the pain in my ass. Suddenly, Dorothea dropped the paddle. I heard it thump on the floor.
“Stand up, boy,” she commanded. Again, she handed me the water bottle.
I stood up with alacrity, glad this part of the ordeal was over. Unless I missed something, only two boys had flunked out of submissive school. I looked down at my penis, noting that it was partly erect, well above the horizontal, but not taut against my stomach as it sometimes gets. I kept up the Kegels, making it twitch. I hoped desperately that it pleased Dorothea. I noted that substantially fewer pops and variations on “Ouch” filled the air.
Dorothea peered at my penis, bending forward to get close. “Well, boy, you’re not fully rampant. However, you are well above the horizontal and twitching.” She took it in her hand, squeezing and stroking my sensitive cock.
“Oh, Mistress, that feels sooo good after that hard paddling! Thank you sooo much, Mistress.” I meant it, too. Her manipulation of my cock nearly completely distracted me from the raging pain in my bum.
“Boy, you are erect enough to earn your reward. As a very special boon, you may rub your bumcheeks for 20 seconds to feel how warm I made them. I hope you’re proud, for you took a very hard paddling. I assume it was your first, correct?”
By this time, I was fully erect, sensitive and responsive. I felt my warm cheeks. They stung like I’d sat on a beehive. “You’re right, Mistress, that was my first paddling and I won’t mind if it’s my last, though I hope you enjoyed it, Mistress.”
“Do you like the warmth in your red bumcheeks? They’re all rosy and very pretty. You should be proud.”
“Yes, Mistress, my cheeks are very warm, thank you. And thank you for allowing me to feel them.” Actually, I was disappointed. I’d hoped to see or touch her beautiful body. Still, my hands on my butt felt soothing.
“Time’s up, take your hands off your ass.”
“Yes, Mistress.” I dropped my hands to my side. Dorothea’s touch on my cock loosened and her pace slowed a bit. For some reason, that was more stimulating than any other technique she’d used before. “Unhhh, unhhh,” I grunted, my hips slowly thrusting back and forth.
Then, over the few paddling smacks and cries, and the groans of boys trying desperately to hold in their seed, came the derisive voice of a woman, possibly Daniela. “You sniveling wimp, get your limp dick, your red ass, and the sorry rest of you out of here. Can’t get it up!”
Immediately, all the women chanted, “Can’t get it up, can’t get it up!”
Dorothea gently rolled my tip with her thumb and forefinger, for the time being not stroking me. I bit my lower lip and took several deep breaths, renewing my determination to retain my jism. If I wasn’t too distracted to count, only two boys needed to fail before I could be a winner. “Oh, Mistress, that feels so very, very good. Thank you, Mistress.”
“You’re doing very well, boy. Have you ever been close to cumming in any of your trials here today?”
“No, Mistress, not yet. And thank you so much for the compliment. Unhh, unhh.” I grunted as Dorothea resumed full strokes to my oversensitive cock.
Screams of males in pain filled the room from a few of the groups, giving me an idea of what was to come.
“Then you haven’t had a real test, almost like you taking a junior high math test. You tell me when you’re right at the edge of cumming and I’ll administer a real test - ten more strokes before I crop you.”
At that moment, one of the mistresses called out, “Blue balls, blue balls!”
“Y..yes, M...M...Mistress,” I stammered, truly afraid she’d make me lose. She gripped me tighter and stoked very fast, up at the tip only. It felt fantastic and in less than a minute I gasped, “Ready! Oh, my God, oh my God!”
Dorothea immediately loosened her grip and stroked the whole shaft very slowly, not neglecting my throbbing cockhead. “Ten....nine....eight....seven....six....halfway....”
I held my breath and tightened my muscles. A mighty effort kept my hips still. My scalp and face tingled. “Arrrrgghhhhh!”
“Four....almost....two....o..n..e.” True to her word, she let go. “Congratulations, boy.” She gave me her TCD and that nearly drove me over the edge as well.
For a few seconds, all I could do was gasp. I held still, not moving a muscle except my diaphragm. I knew if I twitched at all, I’d spray and lose everything. Finally, the desperate need to release my load subsided. “Oh, Mistress, thank you so much. I never felt anything like that. It was incredible. Thank you, thank you.”
Dorothea cupped my balls, which had a dull ache. “Do your sensitive little balls hurt, boy?”
“Yes, Mistress, they do. There’s so much cum aching to come out. But I won’t let it so I can serve you.”
With a smile, Dorothea called out, “Blue balls, blue balls!” Other members repeated the refrain. Then she addressed me. “Are you ready for ten more strokes before your caning?”
“I hope so, Mistress, since I would never ask you not to.”
“Good answer!” She gripped me again and pumped me, saying, “The cane will give you real pain. Same deal, a reward if you stay stiff. Back on my lap, quick.”
Taking a deep breath, frightened anew, I bent over her lap and grasped the chair legs. The screams and shrieks of the other boys being caned told me I was due for something very painful. Crack! “Yow!” I screamed.
This pain, sharp and concentrated across both cheeks at once, stung like the Dickens and seared like a branding iron. One hand involuntarily released from the chair. Nearly panicking, I replaced it and gripped tightly.
I felt the cane lightly tapping on my butt, then whoosh, crack again! Another scream. Again, the tapping on my sore cheeks. I felt Dorothea move and my cock, only barely stiff, slid between her legs. She then tightened her legs on my cock. That felt good! My cock was within inches of her pussy and between her legs. I started pumping my hips, loving the feel of her upper thighs against my organ. Whoosh, crack, scream again. I tried to focus on my cock and its exciting position, but the searing pain sure interfered. Again and again she lashed me. As the ordeal continued, I sobbed continually, punctuated by a shriek after each cane strike.
Dorothea’s voice came in my ear. “Take a moment to recover and stand up, boy,” she whispered.
I lay on her, reflexively twitching my hips. After a moment, I recovered enough to remember to flex my PC muscle. With most of my breath recovered, I slowly arose, a shaky smile on my lips as I looked at Dorothea, who handed me the water bottle with a sympathetic look. “Take a big drink, boy. You need it.”
I sucked at the straw eagerly. A few males were still getting cropped, evidenced by their screams. My cock responded again to Dorothea’s renewed fondling. She was gentle at first.
A voice suddenly rose above the others. “Stop, stop, 9...911! I don’t care, I can’t stand it!” Sobbing and wailing of remorse followed this outburst. For the first time, I paid attention to the rest of the room. The guy stumbling toward the door was the taller guy who’d been teased with me.
“Can’t take the cane, can’t take the cane,” chanted the woman. A voice called, “All right, applicants. Only one more loser to go. Who will be the last to lose his chance for sex with all us woman?”
Dorothea, as always, kept to the business at hand, and I felt a surge of pleasure as I became rampant.
“You weren’t very stiff after your caning, but you were above horizontal and responded beautifully to my holding you. You have earned your reward, you fortunate boy. I just hope it doesn’t seal your fate. Now watch.” With a wicked smile, she craned her neck and body, opened her mouth and took my cockhead into her! Was she really going to suck me? My cock surged near to orgasm and I started hyperventilating with fear. He lips were drawn back and I felt her teeth on my tender cockhead. Would she bite? Her tongue rasped my frenulum and I gasped in fear. I was so close to cumming!
With a cruel laugh, Dorothea withdrew her mouth. I held stock still, hoping the surging cum in my shaft would subside. Slowly, it did. “Thank you, Mistress, thank you.” I was truly grateful, but whether more for her taking me in her mouth than for her withdrawal, I couldn’t be sure.
Groans and grunts of male pleasure and effort filled the air, interspersed with quiet conversation. Evidently all the surviving supplicants had taken their canings. Only seven remained, all determined not to be the last to lose out on the opportunity of a lifetime. The judges and Tormentresses and other members circulated among the remaining groups, making quiet comments and pointing or laughing, but not interfering.
Dorothea gave me no rest, but resumed jerking me. “Tell me when you’re at the edge, then fifteen strokes before a very difficult test I invented myself,” she said with another of her evil grins.
I was frightened and excited at once. In less than a minute, my eager cum rose again. I panted, “I’m there, Mistress. Oh, my balls ache!” my voice high-pitched with fear. Surely I couldn’t be the loser?
Dorothea didn’t count, but stroked me, a bit faster than in my previous test, one stroke per word. “You impressed me, boy. I won’t go easy on you, but I want you to win.” She then let go of my penis.
I stood there panting, waiting for yet another raging desire to cum to pass. As it finally did, I gasped, “Thank you, Mistress, thank you.” I felt weak, though my cock, now twitching, remained fully erect and my sore balls throbbed. I accepted the water Dorothea offered.
“Lie on your back with your knees up, boy,” Dorothea commanded.
I was glad it was a clean, shag carpet. I looked up, knowing I’d see way up Dorothea’s skirt if she stood. To my surprise and delight, she straddled me, right over my face. She wasn’t wearing any panties! I saw my first pussy, all wet with some fluid evident on her upper thighs. Her round ass jutted beautifully.
She lowered herself, leaning forward to put her arms under my knees. Pressing my thighs against her, she rocked back, rolling my ass off the floor and dropping her warm, wet pussy right on my face! “Lick my cunt, boy,” she cried. She released my right thigh and soon brought the crop painfully across my exposed ass. Her other hand found my cock and squeezed it.
But these sensations paled to my first smell and taste of pussy. The scent alone made my cock twitch, and the taste! Unlike anything I’d imagined. Obediently, I started licking, more excited by her incredible pussy than hurt by the cane.
Dorothea pushed her hips down on me, pressing so hard sometimes it was hard to breathe. Despite the pain, the stimulation of my cock, and the heady aroma and taste of my first ever pussy, I was frightened. My cock was near the edge and I didn't know the first thing about cunnilingus except the name. I opened my mouth and my tongue found the slit and Dorothea said, “That’s it boy, lick me, lick my cuntlips. Lick my clit.”
I’d read about the clit and seen pictures and videos. Up near the top...of her. My tongue found something hard. I licked and sucked it.
“Yes, that’s it, that’s it. Good boy. Keep licking me. Make me cum. Don’t you dare cum! I am woman! I cum and cum and cum! You are male. You serve woman. Lick my clit!” All the while, she spasmodically struck me with the crop, nowhere near as hard as before, and continued her backhanded jerk off.
I could hardly believe this was happening to nerdy old me. All the sensations made my cock boil. Me! Pleasuring this beautiful, sexually sophisticated beauty enough to make her cum! I was so close myself I felt panic rising in me as I tried to clamp down on my insistent penis.
“Yes, I’m cumming. Cumming!” cried out Dorothea above me, grinding her hips into my face almost painfully.
I kept licking, sooo close to cumming myself!
“No, no, I don’t want to! Ohhhh, wahh,” came an anguished cry that suddenly switched to a bellow of deep pain.
A woman called, “Winners! Stop!”
Dorothea, still orgasming, literally jumped off me, withdrawing all stimulation. I lay on the floor gasping, too concerned not to cum even then to savor my victory.
Dorothea, fingering herself shamelessly, addressed me, panting. “Don’t you dare cum now, boy. You need your full load of seed for the final heat.”
Oh, my God! Another ordeal. I was really spent, but I’d give it my all. I slowly recovered my breath. My nostrils thrilled to the remaining pussysmell on my face.
I slowly got up and kinda crawled into my chair, settling on it very gingerly, wanting the support despite the pain. Dorothea, no longer masturbating, wore a self-satisfied smirk as she pulled her clothing together, spreading her skirt to adjust her stocking and garter strap, a process I watched with great interest.
I took a deep draught from my bottle and then it hit me. I had survived the very harrowing second round. Only six of us left. I started to grin, but I also experienced trepidation. Was the third round to follow the other two immediately?
I looked around the room. Five other exhausted-looking naked boys slumped in their chairs, much as I did. Chris and Zach were among the finalists. The women talked among themselves quietly.
Dorothea stood where we all could see her and addressed us. “First of all, congratulations to our six finalists!” All the women clapped, some whistled. We boys joined in. When the applause subsided, she announced, “I’m sure all you boys will be glad to learn there are no more heats involving pain. For many, if not all, of you, this was your first experience of a female dominant adult sexual spanking. All of you have done very well in showing orgasm control and acceptance of pain. You’ll also be glad to learn that the next, final elimination heat takes place here, tomorrow. You are all our invited guests except you may not leave without forfeiting your chance to win.” This qualification met with general laughter, some nervous laughter on the part of the supplicants. “If any of you need to communicate with someone, we’ll accommodate this reasonable request. Ask any member and she’ll gladly assist you.
“For the rest of the evening, we’ll enjoy light refreshments and a social time. You boys will serve us and remain naked. Unless given permission to do so, you must not touch your penises. You’ll be escorted to washrooms where you may freshen up, but don’t expect privacy. After that, you’ll be shown to the kitchen to begin serving us. This year’s Theta Delta Kappa Annual Supplicant Elimination Heats One and Two is hereby adjourned. Meaning when the boys serve us, we can all have a much-deserved drink.”
The Freshwomen escorted us to the two upstairs washrooms, rather large rooms with two toilets, tubs, and showers, as well as three sinks and large mirrors. We got our first looks at each others’ red and striped bumcheeks and commented on how much pain we’d taken. We all craned about to see our own wounds in the mirrors. It felt good to pee, to wash my face. I even, with permission stepped in the shower, quickly learning that a washcloth soothed my poor bum much more than a spray of hot water!
Samantha joined me on the stairs back down. “Jerry, I’m so glad you’re one of the finalists.”
“Me, too,” I said with a grin. “It would really suck to be one of the last ones to fall - all that pain and frustration and no reward.”
“We like it that way. It’s good for you boys to be hurt and frustrated.”
We reached the kitchen and found trays of food in the refrigerator, bottles of champagne, fruit juice, ice and buckets, trays to carry glasses and a supply of cocktail napkins. We boys carried these items to the large dining room, placing them on the table around which sat the beautiful, provocatively dressed women. We were told to stand behind our Tormentresses, to ask her permission to get any food or drink, that no reasonable request would be denied, and that otherwise we must ask permission to speak unless directly addressed by a member. Dorothea also told us, “Boys, since you have all shown such good orgasm control, you have permission to play with yourselves provided you do not ejaculate. You may start or stop any time you wish. Raise your hand if you have painful, blue balls.”
All finalists raised their hands.
“Good! As I expected. Then your balls will hurt more as you play with yourselves, which is very good for you and demonstrates your submission to us. I hope you will avail yourselves of the privilege, though you are free not to do so with no penalty. You don’t have to ask permission for sub-verbal expressions of pleasure.”
I know a hint when I hear one, and besides, I missed the stimulation. My bum tingled, and I had to admit it felt good at this stage. In fact, I felt like I was high on something. I gingerly fondled my tip between my thumb and forefinger. That felt good, so I began gentle, slow strokes. Chris and one of the other guys followed my example pretty soon. Dorothea was correct, my balls ached more.
The gorgeous redhead, whose name was Veronica, got things started by stating the numbers of the failed supplicants in the order in which they failed. Tormentresses recounted each failure to much ridicule and laughter. I sure felt glad that nothing like that could be said about me. Dorothea quietly told me to pour her and the women on either side some champagne and to take a glass myself if I wished. Listening to the conversation for clues about the sorority, I obeyed and asked permission to take a plate of food. This was granted by a nod from the regal Dorothea. Soon, I stood back, placing my champagne flute on a windowsill behind me as I nibbled on crackers, cheese, and vegetables. When my champagne was gone, I began fondling myself again. By now, all finalists had taken the privilege, watched from time to time by the ladies. My cock was oversensitive and tingled, as did my face and even my shoulder. My balls ached with each stroke.
In between a couple of stories, Samantha called Chris and me to her. Still masturbating, as was Chris, I went over. Without interrupting the narrative, she whispered to us, “I want to see the fine cocks of the two boys I inducted.” We both treated her to a masturbatory display and she gave use each about 10 strokes, then sent us back to our Tormentresses.
“Tony, the silly boy who lost his temper, complained from the get-go. Once, he wondered out loud if the contest was rigged, said we all played favorites. I hit him pretty hard with the paddle and after a while I worked on one cheek. Do you think that might have sent him over the edge?” innocently asked the narrator, whose name was Doris.
In the midst of the laughter, Samantha said, “When I escorted him out, he threatened to call the cops.” All the woman laughed and laughed. I wondered why that was so funny.
I learned some rules, or rather guidelines, the Tormentresses followed. They deliberately complimented our cocks until we lost, then ridiculed us. Some members didn’t like this practice because they delighted in ridiculing men and their penises. My guess was right, if the three supplicants in one cohort during the first heat had all lasted a long time, they might have seen their cockteasers displaying wild, uninhibited Lesbian sex. In the second heat, Tormentresses brought the boys to their first emission of precum before beginning the handspanking. After that, she used her judgement and experience of men’s arousal state to decide how to proceed. A minimum of 8 cane strokes was required, with a max of 12. For anyone who survived the caning, the Tormentress was free to use any technique and could, if she wished, reveal her attitude toward the supplicant’s failure or success. I never got a clue how all the judges notes were to be used.
Kari, an exotic-looking brunette whose olive skin lent her a middle eastern appearance, described the downfall of the last supplicant, the one who’d given the rest of us our victory.
“I didn’t like him, plain and simple. He bragged! Talk about not getting the picture.” Everyone laughed and someone asked what he bragged about.
“Oh, he knew the other survivor in the first heat was about to cum, but he was just getting started. I admit he had a good thick cock, a bit short. Like many males, he was so vain about it. He had masturbated for three hours just last week. He had a high pain tolerance, blah, blah, blah. But he still squirmed on my knee, kicking and waving his arms, shouting about how much it hurt - during the handspanking! Then, he actually grinned at me and asked how I liked feeling his prick. Asked if we could go somewhere and fuck. Instead, I started his paddling. He found the strength to go on, somehow. I didn’t think he would. In the next handjob round, he grunted and groaned, thrust his hips and positively dripped precum. I used it like lube. But when he said, ‘I’m doing good. I’m gonna win,’ I got disgusted and decided to cane him. He screamed throughout the whole thing, the wimp. So I gave him the full 12 strokes, hoping he’d flunk, but he didn’t. When he caught his breath, he said, ‘Damn, I’m good! I’m a winner for sure.’
“I looked him right in the eye and said, ‘You are an arrogant prick. I hope you are the last loser and since I get to pick your next trial, I’m going to give you the best blowjob you’ll ever get - but you can’t cum.’” Her voice assumed the teasing lilt all the women used. “And I knew he’d never had a blowjob. Talk about an uneven contest!”
Everyone laughed, including all us finalists.
Kari went on. “So I licked him and sucked on his tip while he groaned and buckled his knees. I took as much of the shaft as was easy and deep-throated him. He was less than 6 inches, so I took it all. He started screaming ‘No, No,’ and all that other stuff and his salty jism poured into me, my victory, his loss! I dug my fingernails into his ass just before he started cumming. After the first big squirt, I rolled him to one side and bit him!”
Gales of laughter from the women, blanched looks from the boys.
The party broke up soon after that. Some of the woman seemed eager to go upstairs. Supervised by the Freshwomen, we cleaned up and were escorted to a surprisingly large room under the wide formal staircase. Six mattresses and a collection of bedclothes were available. We made our beds, and the ladies had us lie on their backs. Samantha had made sure Chris and I lay next to each other and knelt between us, her cleavage evident, her thighs spread wide, giving us views up her legs to her black lace panties. She grasped our cocks and stroked us both.
“I think of you both as my boys, the survivors of my inductees, and I hope you do very well tomorrow in the final. During the night, you are not allowed to touch yourself. You’ll be disqualified if you make yourself cum. A Freshwoman will always be awake in here to prevent any cheating. We’re on three hour shifts and at the shift changes, they’ll awaken you and masturbate you for a while to keep your balls nice and blue for tomorrow.
“This is fun,” she went on. “I’ve never given two handjobs at once. I’m going to go only until you give me some of your precum. If I’m not looking at you when it slips from the little slit in your cockhead, just say, ‘precum,’ and I’ll stop stimulating you and let you get some rest.”
Other women stimulated the other males. All through the room came more grunts and groans as frustrated males’ balls ached more and more. I sure added my groans. Chris’s and my announcements of “Precum” overlapped. Samantha wished us each good night with a kiss on the lips.
My blue balls ached so much they made it hard to go to sleep then and both times we were aroused (in both senses) during the night.
Be darned if they didn’t wake us up with a fourth handjob in the morning! Again, we were escorted to the washrooms, showered, shaved with disposables the ladies thoughtfully provided.
As we left the washroom, we were met by one of the Freshwomen, a slender, trim east Asian woman who had awoken me to give me my morning hand job. Now, she handed me a pair of white, frilly, lace panties. “Put these on, boy,” she said in a no-nonsense voice.
Surprised, I arched my eyebrows. “Panties?”
Well, I should have expected something like this. I’d read the word, feminization, but thought it was some fringe aspect of female domination. Now, I was confronted with at least some aspect of it.
Chagrined, I took the skimpy garment from her and stepped into it, drawing it up my legs and snugging it over my hips. A thong, it slid easily into the crack of my ass, a sensation I found uncomfortable. But the nylon on the front, containing my cock, felt erotic.I swiftly erected, filling the frilly garment until, to my great mortification, my aroused cockhead emerged above the constricting waistband like a curious prairie dog. “Oh,” I gasped, my hands moving to cover my shame.
“Hold still,” snapped the beautiful, diminutive Asian. I obeyed and her voice dropped several registers as she said, “I think it’s sweet that a pair of panties excites you.” She squeezed my cockhead.
“Uhhh,” I groaned, my balls aching anew. To my great surprise, she lifted up on tiptoe, put her hand around my neck and pulled me down and kissed my lips. “I’ll remember you, number 10. I love feminine males. Now run along to the kitchen and help prepare breakfast.”
Feminine male? Who does she think I am? Who does she think she is? I’m a red-blooded American het male who loves women and wants to fuck them. I wish I had fucked some women. I wish I would fuck some women. Why the fuck else am I submitting to all these painful and humiliating indignities? To get finally, righteously, fantastically fucked, that’s why!!!
In this resentful and confused mood I arrived in the kitchen. A menu and some instructions lay in a reading rack on the counter. Chris, wearing black lace panties and totally limp, had arrived earlier and assumed control. Sorta. One of the members sat at a table in the corner of the spacious kitchen. The Asian woman joined her, probably to ensure none of us surreptitiously came.
“Jerry, do you know anything about cooking? The other guy who got here early says he can’t fry an egg.” He indicated a boy in black panties with frills across the ass. I know, because he was reaching up to a cabinet.
“Wait a sec, Chris,” I said, glancing at the menu. Quiche. I should have known. But quiche was easy, the recipes detailed and clear. “Can you make coffee and serve juice?” I asked the other guy. “My name’s Jerry,” I added. “There are recipes.”
“Recipes?” he said, blinking.
“Think of it as a lab,” Chris suggested. I started to laugh, but suppressed it. “There are specific substances, procedures, measurements and times,” he went on.
“Oh, I can do that,” said our rival. “I’m David.”
“Glad to meet you, David,” I said. Yeah, right. “Here are the juice and coffee specifications. Pitchers are in the cabinets, frozen juice is in the freezer, and the coffee bag is next to the coffee maker on that rolling table. Start the controlled coffee experiment according to the specs and use the blender to make the juice according to the procedures on the juice packages.” Jesus Christ, was this the only way to communicate with this dork? I mean, I already admitted I’m a geek, but this guy is a total dork.
Chris and I exchanged conspiratorial eye rolls. I said, “I can handle the quiches and the potatoes if you and two others can set the table.
Chris nodded. “I already picked up the table service instructions. I used to be a waiter.”
I saw a chef’s hat in the corner and donned it. The missing panty-clad boys arrived in a rush. I noticed that half of us had black panties, the others, like me, white. I didn’t know what it meant, but something to pit us against each other, I figured. I whispered to Chris, “Give me one assistant to help that doofus over there. Sort for common sense, not intelligence.”
Chris left me a guy I didn’t know, and I told him to help the dork with the beverages. His name was John and I learned the dork was called Henry.
I whipped up the egg batter and mixed it with the ingredients listed for each of seven quiches. Into the oven with them - the sorority had restaurant grade appliances. Pre-thawed hash browns were no problem ‘cause the middle of the range was a griddle. As I waited for the quiche to bake, I took some juice from Chris and Henry, who were busy with the blender, making the different juices.
The east Asian woman beckoned me to come to her. “Yes, Mistress?” I said.
She grasped my cock and fondled it through my panties. My balls immediately ached, but the penis thickened and lengthened. “When do you start the potatoes?” she asked incongruously.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Seven minutes, Mistress.”
“Good, then you’re mine for those seven minutes.” She tugged my panties below my balls and held my tender seeds in one hand. “I bet these are very painful,” she said, giving them a little squeeze.
“Ohhhh, yes indeed, Mistress.” I could do nothing but grunt.
“My name is Marci. You’re competent in the kitchen, number 10.” Mercifully, she began stroking me, leaving my poor balls alone.
Marci favored me with a sardonic, teasing look, saying no more as she stroked me to the brink, then released me. She turned me around and smacked my exposed bum several times with her hand, then said, “Run along to your cooking duties.”
Soon, the hash browns lay on two platters with the cooling quiches on a wheeled cart. I pushed it into the dining room, while Henry and John followed with the beverages on a similar cart. Chris and crew had laid the table nicely. A couple of card tables were placed against the foot of the big table. We supplicants were to sit there. The women, chatting among themselves, some with their arms around each others’ waists, drifted in, going immediately to the juice and coffee, then taking their seats.
Dorothea entered last and took her seat at the far end of the table. The other women sat, and had us serve them round the table. Again, we were forbidden to speak without permission. When the ladies were all served, we served ourselves and ate - with several interruptions to fulfill the ladies’ requests. The women did not talk with us at all, nor did they mention the events of the previous evening. They talked about school, clothes, one woman’s broken down car, and the like.
As the plates cleared and conversation lagged a bit, Dorothea rose and addressed us all. “This year’s Theta Delta Kappa Annual Supplicant Elimination Heat Three is now in session.” All the woman gave us knowing, teasing looks. We were in for it in some way I couldn’t anticipate. “Veronica has distributed the assignments, so you all know where to go. Find your boys and take them to the trial chambers.”
To my great joy, Veronica approached me. “Number 10, come with me,” she said simply, turning and walking away. She wore a tight green skirt with a slit in the back, a low-cut white blouse which didn’t do much to conceal the lacy black bra beneath. She had large breasts, pushed up and rounded. Seamed stockings led me up the stairs, affording me glimpse of her bare thighs above the stocking welts. Several others climbed next to us.
Veronica led me to the third floor and into a bedroom, where Marci awaited us with Henry. So I’d go through the final trial with the dork. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. I had no clue what this trial was supposed to test. I felt quite apprehensive. This was it, win or lose and I definitely wanted to win!
There were two chairs at the facing the foot of the bed. Henry was in one, and, at a gesture from Veronica, I sat in the other.
Sofia came in, carrying a clipboard. “I’m Sofia, and I’m your judge for this heat, numbers 10 and 14. Marci and Veronica will provide some of the stimulation. I know you two are eager to get started, so go ahead,” she said to the women, who held hands.
To my great joy, they both shed their blouses and skirts! They got on the bed, Veronica with her breasts threatening to pop out of her bra. Her garter belt and panties matched the bra. Marci wore a transparent bra, revealing her dark, puckered nipples. She had panty hose on her legs and a white thong covered her sex. The pair embraced and kissed each other. Henry and I, rooted to our chairs, stared at the developing erotic display. Marci gently fondled Veronica’s bust, and even licked the upper slopes.
Sofia’s voice distracted me. “This trial is not about orgasm control, but does have an aspect of orgasm control. The first of you to cum loses. The only rule is you’re not allowed to touch yourself or the lovers on the bed. Begin.”
My eyebrows shot up. If I couldn’t...then....ugh! That? Really? I was sure I’d figured it right. I took a deep breath, feeling revulsion. I shook my head as I contemplated what I had to do. I glanced at Henry. His eyes were glued to the embracing women on the bed. With a big gulp, and a glance at Sofia’s knowing expression, I knelt in front of Henry and slid my hand up his thigh, grasping his penis through is his panties.
“Hey, you faggot. Leave me alone. I want to watch.” He brushed at me with his hands.
Sofia laughed, but said, “Number 14! You must allow him access or you’re disqualified. “
“Silly boy, don’t you know how to follow directions?”
I didn’t waste any time, but got my hand inside his panties and gave his cock a squeeze.
Sofia continued, “You can’t touch yourself or the women. That leaves each other. If you pull away from him or prevent his access to your cock, you’re disqualified and lose.”
Henry was too flabbergasted to object as I gave him real strokes. He was just short of being fully erect, while I remained limp. I tugged his panties aside and licked the tip as I pumped the shaft.
Henry finally got it. “Well, he’s gotta let me at his thing, too. It’s only fair,” he pouted.
I grasped his hips, encouraging him off the chair as my mouth claimed his cockhead.
“Oh, yuck, but I gotta do it,” he said, sliding to the floor.
I made sure his cock never left my mouth as I reversed, presenting my hips to my rival. I sure didn’t want to do this. This wasn’t how I imagined my first ever blowjob would be! On the other hand, I wasn’t grossed out. The actual sensation of a cock in my mouth wasn’t bad. I could see how the woman in porn videos I’d seen could get into it. I bobbed my head, maintaining suction, stroking it near his body when my mouth was up at the tip. I closed my eyes.
Henry had pulled my thong to one side and grasped my cock. He stroked it with a very loose grip. To my relief, it was still soft, but unfortunately it responded and began to grow. I concentrated on making his cock feel really good.
“Look at the little cocksuckers, Marci,” I heard Veronica say.
“Isn’t it sweet how they’ll do such a forbidden act just for a chance to maybe fuck some of us?”
I opened my eyes. The two beauties grinned at us from the foot of the bed.
“Boys are so silly. They’ll do anything for sex, as these two prove right now.”
I couldn’t argue with that from my position. By now, Henry had worked my cock to full erection and pistoned his head like a pro, just like me. My advantage was over. Was it enough? I tightened the grip of my lips and licked his frenulum frantically. I concentrated on the sensations of his cock in my mouth to distract me from how good he was making me feel.
“I think the boys like sucking cock. Look at them go,” said Marci.
Henry grunted, “No, no!”
“Silly boy, you don’t have to do this. You can quit any time, but you’ll never fuck me if you do.”
Suddenly, Henry’s hips flexed. His deep groan of protest, muffled by my cock, sounded his despair. He thrashed about, wanting to withdraw, but unwilling to lose that way. His grunts took on a desperate character. He sucked my cock so hard it hurt, deflating me a bit.
I kept on doing what worked.
Marci and Veronica were merciless.
“Look, Marci, he’s going to cum. It will feel soo good to cum, but he’ll lose everything.”
“Yes, he likes his cock being sucked by a guy more than fucking us. What a loser!
“You, 10, when he squirts, savor your victory. Don’t swallow it, keep it.”
Henry’s desperate thrashing and grunts reached a crescendo. “Here it comes,” called Veronica gleefully.
She was right. I felt the spurt of warm fluid, slightly bitter and salty, filling my mouth. I clamped his ass to me, determined to get it all.
Utterly disgusted with himself, Henry let my cock fall from his lips. “Shit! Shit Shit!” he screamed as the last spasms jerked his cock in my mouth. It began to go limp immediately, so I let it go.
Veronica said, “Show him your victory boy, show it to him.”
I opened my mouth with the cum on my tongue. I’m sure Henry didn’t want to, but he stole a glance and burst into tears. He stumbled from the room.
The woman clapped and asked me to show my victory cum to them. Then they told me to swallow it.
I did so, with a great deal of reluctance, which I made sure they didn’t see. “Ah, the tangy taste of victory,” I said with a smile. I climbed back to one of the chairs. “Wow, that was an amazing ordeal. And I actually made it, I finally won. I get to serve all you beautiful ladies. My ass hurts, my balls till ache, but I feel so happy! Thank you all!” My widest grin split my face.
Marci said, “That happiness is what you feel when you obey and serve women. This experience of being in the Auxiliary will change your life forever.”
The woman clapped and Sofia gave me a drink of water. “Congratulations, Number 10. You’re a winner. You showed excellent control and grasp of the situation all along. It was so funny when silly Number 14 didn’t get it.” We all laughed at the memory.
“I’m supposed to be the judge, but I couldn’t help laughing when he called you a faggot and tried to shoo you away.”
“He’s watching two women make love and he calls me a faggot?”
“He looked so funny, rolling his eyes, trying to figure it out.”
When we finished castigating and laughing at my rival, Sofia teased me. “Your name is Jerry, right?”
“Well, I bet after all the times you’ve gotten hard and what with that raging case of blue balls, you’re ready to blow your big wad and enjoy it right? With no penalty?”
“Gee, I thought you never let guys cum around here. Thought it was against the rules.”
“Well, good, obedient boys can cum when they have permission and you do as a winner. You even have a choice how you cum. Marci and Veronica are lovers for real and this is their room. They sleep and do all sorts of other stuff on this bed. One way you can cum is to ask them politely to pick up where they left off so you can watch. You can’t touch, you can’t say anything, but you can get close and look while you play with yourself to your prick’s content.
“The other way you can cum is to sit in the chair and I’ll give you a blowjob. All the guys I’ve sucked said I give very, very good blowjobs.”
I arched one eyebrow. “Can’t you give me the blowjob while I watch you two beauties have at it?”
“We could, but that’s not the rule.”
Wow, this was a real poser. I’d always fantasized about seeing two woman get it on, but I’d never even had a blowjob except from Henry. Yuch.
“I’ll take the blowjob. I wanted one from a woman for so long, and after what I just went through...And thank you both for the offer,” I said to Veronica and Marci. They just smiled and told me to enjoy myself.
Sofia knelt in front of me and pumped me up with her hand. Then, with a grin, she licked the tip and took it in her mouth. She ran her tongue all over my tip, then suddenly took my shaft as far as she could and started vigorously bobbing her head.
I groaned and rolled my head from side to side. She made me feel so good! When she slowed down, that felt good, too.
Then she stopped sucking me.
“Do you two want a taste? I’m not selfish.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” said Marci, taking Sofia’s place.
“Oh, my God,” I groaned as a second woman pleasured my cock. “Ah, oh, ah.”
Soon, Veronica took her place. My cock felt like it was twice its size, my head tingled, and the blue balls ached like never before. She favored me with a grin. “You can look but not touch,” she said. With that, she rolled my cock all over her exposed upper breastslopes. My cock felt my first tit!
“Oh, I’m sooo lucky! Veronica, that’s sooo nice!” Then I felt in irresistable surge. My balls felt like they’d burst. “I’m gonna cum!”
Veronica took me in her mouth fast and sucked me really hard!
“Aaaaahhhhh, ooooohhhhhhhh!” A wordless bellow accompanied my hot cum. My head rolled from side to side and my balls truly did feel like they burst. Spurt after spurt filled Veronica’s mouth.
Finally, I collapsed, gasping, drained. I discovered my balls didn’t hurt nearly so much.
The women clapped and laughed. “Show us the victory cum!” demanded Sofia and Marci.
Through half-lidded eyes, I saw my cum all over Veronica’s tongue and some even dribbled down her chin. To my astonishment, she kissed Marci and transferred some of the cum to her lover.
“I want some, too,” chimed in Sofia. Marci shared with her. They all swallowed.
I thanked them profusely. When I tried to stand, I was so weak, Veronica had to support me for my first few steps. I adjusted my panties and we went downstairs. Some of the living room furniture had been moved, and all the woman sat around the room. The other two winners were Chris and Zach, grinning like me. “We made it,” I said.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/spanking/sorority-auxiliary-part-1-my.aspx">Sorority Auxiliary Part 1: My Application</a>