Chapter 8

I'll say this about being naked in a place where everybody else is naked too-the novelty sure wears off in a hurry. At least, after the first moment of embarrassment, I found myself starting to forget that I wasn't properly dressed for mixed company.

But one other aspect of the shindig was not quite so easy to get used to. The Bolero was still going on, but the couple who had been dancing were dancing no longer. They were on the couch, body twined against body, making love. They seemed oblivious to everything that was going on around them. I was still a mere novice at sex myself, and I guess I wasn't yet in the right frame of mind for this postgraduate sort of amour conducted right out in public. Most of the others were ignoring the lovemakers, but a few of the members were watching with interest and calling out encouraging remarks.

The doorbell rang. Roy Burchard reached over and pressed a buzzer, and a moment later a girl walked in unescorted. Marge smiled, and I knew it was her sponsor. The newcomer had jet-black hair cut in short bangs, and wore a tight maroon sweater that covered what looked like an eye-opening figure.

Chuck said, "Your candidate came here with us, Janet."

"So I see." Her voice was deep, richly musical.

With some surprise I recognized her now as one of the leading ladies of the Chesley theatrical club. "Let me get my things off and we can have the initiation."

She disappeared upstairs. Chuck rose, facing Don Hammer, and said, "Mr. President, I wish to sponsor Jeff Burnside of the Class of 1965 for membership."

"Let the candidate step forward," Hammer said. I hadn't realized he was the president of this organization. I came from my place in the corner of the room and stood facing him, uncomfortably aware that nearly everybody was watching me except the copulating couple on the couch.

"Are you Jeff Burnside of the Class of 1965?" Hammer asked formally.

"Yes."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir," I said obediently. "And you wish to become a member of this organization?"

"Yes, sir."

Hammer nodded. "Membership is limited to fully accredited undergraduates for a three-year period beginning in their sophomore year. If at any time you suffer academic suspension, your membership is likewise suspended. And your membership expires permanently on the day your class is graduated, whether or not you yourself actually are graduated on that day. Is this clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you a virgin, Burnside?"

The sudden personal question puzzled me. But I answered quickly enough. "No, sir."

Hammer frowned. "Any untruths told during the application for membership can be-founds for your expulsion from the group, Burnside."

"He's telling the truth," Chuck said. "I can vouch for that."

Hammer nodded and said, "Each member of this group, once accepted, becomes one with the bodies of all other members, and hence, no member may refuse to cohabit with another member in normal heterosexual intercourse. Do you accept this specification?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sadistic, masochistic, and homosexual practices may be indulged in, but only with the consent of both parties. Is this clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Revelation of our activities to any person not a member of this organization will lead to severe penalties. May I point out here that we are making a tape recording of this application interview. You will abide by total secrecy?"

"Yes, sir."

"The final requirement for membership is successful completion of the initiation rite. This rite requires you to have carnal knowledge of three full-fledged female members, within the space of one hundred fifty minutes, in the presence of three male and three female witnesses not including your sponsor. The rite may be performed at any time during this evening. I designate as your partners for the rite Helene Wallace, Janet Bryce, and Sarah Rawlins. I designate as witness-male, Lome Byris, Roy Burchard, and myself; as witnesses, female-Zelda Hughes, Paula Garson, and Lois Reznik. Other members, of course, are free to witness as well."

I was allowed to sit down after that, and I was introduced to the various people who were going to take part in my initiation. Helene, I already knew; Janet was Marge's sponsor, and she had come downstairs by this time, a long-legged girl with a beautifully lush body. The third girl was Sarah Rawlins, a senior, rather lean and muscular-looking, but attractive. She was the girl who was wearing the garter-belt and stockings.

Marge then went through the same rigmarole, with, of course, a different statement of the initiation rite. I learned that a total of five initiations were being held today-aside from my own and Marge's, Ellis Dill, Charles Mason, and a sophomore redhead named Claire Reynolds were being initiated. Claire had passed her initiation before our arrival, while Dill and Mason each were one-third of the way toward full membership. If all five of us passed, there would still be five vacancies, which would be filled in succeeding weeks as other candidates were selected.

Since everybody was now present, and all of the new candidates had been introduced, the party proceeded to scatter all over the house. There was plenty of liquor, and the hi-fi set blared continuously. The couple on the couch had finished with each other, now, and were each dancing quite innocently with different partners.

I decided that this was as good a time as any to begin my initiation. I crossed the room to where Janet Bryce was talking to Chuck and said, "You're Janet?"

"That's right."

"I-I want to begin," I said. Again I had the feeling that this was all a dream. Here was this beautiful brunette nude before me, her breasts inches from my skin, and I was asking her to come make love with me the way one would normally ask a girl to dance.

"I'll go round up the judges," Chuck said. He ; went into the other room. Janet smiled at me. She had a lovely face and a perfectly-formed body, with well-made breasts and broad, flaring hips.

"Have you done much of this before?" she asked sympathetically.

"Not really," I confessed. "Just Marge and one other girl, that's all."

"Well, don't worry about tonight. Just try to get each act over with as quickly as possible. That'll leave you more time to recuperate for the next one. Don't worry about pleasing me now-just concentrate on succeeding."

Chuck returned, leading my various judges. I was a little unhappy that Don Hammer had included himself among the group, but I knew he had done it on purpose, after the little run-in we had had: he probably figured that if I could pass the test under his critical eyes, I deserved membership.

The judges gathered round. I began to sweat, and because of my nakedness the sweat made me shiver. I told myself that it was no good, that I could never do anything in front of an audience. But Janet took me by the hand and led me to the couch.

Don Hammer said, "The time is now eight fifty-three. Your initiation period expires at eleven twenty-three, Burnside."

Janet ran the entire show. She drew me down to her on the couch, placing my hand on her high, firm bosom and wrapping her body around me. "Don't look at the judges," she murmured.

"Forget they're there. Just think of me." Our lips met; her tongue darted into my mouth; her hands roamed my body. Automatically, in response, I felt myself swelling with desire. Janet clasped me to her. "Relax," she whispered. She seemed tremendously anxious to help me pass. I had to remind myself that this wasn't charades we were playing. That I was here on this couch with a girl I had never spoken to in my life before tonight.

I heard something whirring behind me. "For crissake, are they filming us?" I asked.

Janet whispered, "Please, don't pay attention to anything but me. Otherwise you might not pass."

She clasped me tightly against her. Our bodies joined; I felt the dizzying quiver that I knew by this time was love's ecstasy; and she released me. I was drenched with sweat. Someone handed me a towel. Chuck put a highball in my hand. Don Hammer scribbled sometliing down in a notebook. Janet smiled at me.

"The next time," she said, "we can take longer and have more fun."

As the others disappeared. Chuck said, "Okay, kid. You're one-third of the way there. How do you feel?"

"Tired."

"Don't let it get you down. Just sit quietly and relax, watch what's going on. And stay away from the liquor, after this drink. It tends to reduce your desire."

"Do you think I'll make it?" I asked eagerly. "Why not? You're doing okay so far. Just pace yourself well, and remember that you've got better than two hours left. Take Helene next, around quarter to ten."

"Why not Sarah?"

"Save her for last," Chuck advised. "She's a senior, and she really knows the ropes. She'll help you if you run into difficulties. We've also got some Spanish Fly if you think you need it, but it isn't a good idea to fool around with that stuff."

He grinned and clapped me on the shoulder. "Cheer up, kid. After tonight it's all a lark. Let's go inside-Les Haberman is initiating Marge."

I followed him into a room lined with books. Marge kneeled in the middle of the floor while Les Haberman, a tall, muscular senior who was President of the Student Council, stood over her, cupping her breasts in his hands and gently massaging the swollen tips. Marge had her eyes shut and her mouth clamped tight, and sweat was pouring down her body in rivers. Three or four of the other members were standing near her, the rest of the witnesses sitting by the side. Ned Carter was holding a watch. Sarah Rawlins was operating a small movie camera, recording everything for posterity.

I went up to Ted Felks, a senior who was one of the witnesses, and whispered, "How much more time does she have?"

"About thirteen minutes."

I looked at Marge. She was obviously suffering. Highly susceptible to the male touch as she was, she was nearly splitting herself in half by forcing herself not to respond to Haberman's devilish caresses. He was stroking her skin lightly now, just grazing it. I saw Marge's big breasts rise and fall rapidly as her breath came in short gulps. But she remained in her kneeling position, thighs pressed tight together, sitting on her heels.

I stood there watching as Haberman's fingers went squirreling down her thighs and across her breasts, and I ticked the minutes off in my head. Now there were only twelve minutes left. Seven hundred twenty seconds left. Come on, Marge, I thought. I was rooting hard for her to make it.

But Haberman was really tightening the screws. Since anything short of actual penetration was allowed, he took Marge by the elbows and drew her back, stretching her out flat and lying so that the witnesses had to come over to make sure that Haberman didn't break the rules, which would mean automatic acceptance for Marge. But he was too smart for that. He played a tantalizing game, keeping himself a strategic distance away and stimulating Marge in every way possible.

Seven minutes were left. Six. Five.

I heard her whimper, low, deep in her throat. I knew she was hot with desire, half out of her mind with sheer frustration. This was a hellish rite. Her hands tightened on Haberman's back and for a second I thought she was going to give in.

Then she said, in a tight, passion-choked voice, "How-how much time is there left?"

"Four minutes and thirty-two seconds," Felks said.

She relaxed again. And I knew she was going to make it. Haberman did his damndest, but she just lay back like a lump of dead meat, and finally Felks said, "The half hour is elapsed and the candidate is successful. The candidate will now submit to her initiator and two of the witnesses, and will then be welcomed to membership."

Haberman never had a chance. Marge grabbed him in a stranglehold like a giant python, and vented her half-hour of frustration on him in a brief, savage, terrifying performance. I turned away, glad she had passed but horrified by the sight of her writhing with Haberman on the carpet.

About fifteen minutes later she came over to me, where I was standing talking to Ellis Dill. Dill had completed the second leg of his initiation and had an hour left to finish the job.

Marge looked pale, and I realized it was because of her ordeal followed by three quick acts. "You made it," I said. "Congratulations."

"Hell, I thought it would kill me," she said. "But I made it. After Felks had me, they gave me the club ring and showed me the recognition sign." She grinned. "I can't show you the sign because you're not a member yet. But look at the ring."

I looked at it. It was set with some dark stone, onyx maybe, and something was carved on it. When I looked closely I saw the carving was incredibly obscene. But you had to look closely.

"I keep it till I graduate," she said. "Then I hand it on. How are you doing?"

"One down and two to go," I said.

About nine-thirty I found Chuck, who had been necking quite innocently with Helene, and I said, "I'm ready for the second one."

He gestured to Helene. "Here. Hang on to her. I'll so round up the witnesses."

My tribunal assembled-according to the rules they had to come when called, no matter what they happened to be doing-and Helene and I made love. I didn't have any difficulties at all. She was soft and cuddly and warm, and our bodies fit neatly together. She was giggling when it happened, out of "pleasure I guess. Altogether we were with each other less than five minutes. Chuck shook my hand when I rose, and said, "Sit down and rest for a while. Get your strength back. The third is always the hardest."

I got myself a cold drink of water, wiped the sweat from me, and sat down. A few of the others, temporarily showing no interest in the orgy, were listening to music on the hi-fi, and I joined them. But when Les Haberman offered me a drink I shook my head; it was a deliberate trap, I knew, since alcohol would weaken my virility.

So I just rested for maybe three quarters of an hour, listening to the music and watching the endless flow of naked bodies back and forth. Some of the girls were partially dressed again, and I understood why-nakedness as such can get pretty dull in large doses. A few of them had donned bras and underpants, or like Sarah Rawlins, garter-belts and stockings. It made for a hell of an erotic effect, compared with simple nud-ity.

I sat back and rested. Right now I felt no desire at all, and I wondered how in deuce I was going to pass the third and vital part of my initiation. It seemed to me that Aphrodite herself couldn't have raised my eyebrows. Word came from the other room that Dill had successfully completed his initiation, and that Mason was finishing up now. Which left me as the only one of the five candidates who had not yet qualified for membership. I hoped I wasn't going to make a mess of things. It was ten minutes to eleven. I had thirty-seven minutes left to finish in.

Chuck came over to me. "You better get with it. Keep a safety margin in case there's trouble."

I found Sarah. And I blessed her for what she had done. She had gone upstairs and gotten herself fully dressed. Now she stood before me, with Chuck to one side and the six witnesses staring eagle-eyed at me, and she began to do a slow strip-tease. It was just the thing I needed to revive my flagging desires.

She was lean, but she had a neat little body and she knew how to use it. She stripped seductively, first the skirt, then the blouse, then her bra, finally her panties. By that time I was ready to assault her. She kept the garter-belt and stockings on and held out her arms to me.

I walked forward and she drew me down onto the carpet, smiling. The friction of her stockings against my skin excited me, and I forgot all about how tired I was and how much depended on my success now. I grabbed her tight and took her, and pleasure shuddered through me.

And then my legs turned to water when I tried to get up. The excitement, the stimulation, the wildness of the orgy-it damn near knocked me out. But Chuck was holding me up, handing me a drink, and I heard Don Hammer say, "We welcome you to full membership, and signify it with this ring."

Someone put the ring on my finger, and Hammer demonstrated the secret recognition-sign of the organization, then I was free. I staggered over to an armchair and threw myself down limply. A few moments later Marge threw herself down on top of me. Her bare body was warm and soft, but it didn't do a thing for me, not a thing. I held her the way I might have held a toy teddy-bear.

"Congratulations," she said.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Now I was a member. I didn't feel exultant, though. I just felt pooped.