Chapter 10
The other two new pledges selected by Delta Gamma Phi as potential sorority sisters were in no way like masochistic Dorothy Purcell, who had found her long-dreamed-of fulfillment under the domineering paddle (and between the legs) of insolent silver-blonde Brenda Torrance. One of them was Margie Stanwyk, a seventeen-year-old black-haired freshman sent summarily away from her home in St. Louis when her mother and father had found her dressed only in bobbysocks about to be fucked on the living room couch late one Saturday night when they had unexpectedly come home ahead of schedule from a quick vacation in New York.
Technically, Margie was still cherry, but she was secretly hoping that being far away on a coeducational campus would give her a swift opportunity to rid herself of this unwanted hindrance to making out. Her parents, however, had written the Dean of Women a good deal about their daughter's passionate proclivities and urged the Dean to see to it that Margie was channeled in the right direction so far as plenty of homework and mental stimulus was concerned. It had been through the Dean's influence, as a matter-of-fact, that the saucy, lithe brunette had received a bid from this selective sorority-and it was ironic that Dean Helga Magnus was totally unaware of the undercurrent of Lesbianism prevailing at the house, just as she knew very little about Mrs. Grange's own lustful desires.
Margie Stanwyk was about five feet six inches in height, with a slim, willowy body, lovely long legs, a pert oval shaped bottom as compact as a boy's, olive-satiny skin, and an impertinent, freckled face. Her black hair was very chicly styled in an eyebrow-concealing temple-to-temple bang. The top hair swirled into a dome, while the sides took a forward direction. It emphasized the slight angularity of her oval face, made her cat-green eyes all the more alluringly expressive, and pronounced the petulant sensuality of her small but extremely ripe mouth.
Her "Big Sister" was Jane Allen, a twenty-one-year-old auburn-haired senior who had had a miserably unhappy love affair in her sophomore year and had sworn off men. That was why Jane had been eagerly pledged, and she had fitted in perfectly. Noreen Grange herself had initiated Jane into the sweet mysteries of pussy rubbing and gamming, and by now the auburn-haired senior was as ardent a devotee of Sappho as might be found any where on campus. From the very first, she had the hots for Margie, but the latter had shown no sign of reciprocation. Margie had a spirited nature, which had cost her several strappings from her father back in St. Louis, and so she didn't take kindly to orders even from a senior. As a result, her very first week in the Delta Gamma Phi house, she was given the order to assume the angle and to hoist up skirt and petticoat.
She had indignantly refused and said that she didn't go in for that sort of kid stuff. Jane Allen just laughed and gave her a second warning, which Margie also defied. The girl across the hall, Deborah McMillan,, a twenty-year-old blonde junior who had on occasion been Jane's lover, was only too happy to help out in correcting a rebellious freshman. In a few moments, the indignant young brunette freshman found herself pulled across a desk and while Deborah squatted down and held onto her wrists, Jane lofted skirt and petticoat, then yanked down Margie's white nylon pantie briefs, and proceeded to apply ten good hard swats with her paddle where they would do Margie the most good. At the halfway mark, Margie was wailing and sobbing as if her heart would break, and by the time the last swat fell on her burning bare behind, she was just about ready to do anything. She proved it by being extremely submissive and docile the following week in running all of Jane's errands. But she was still brooding about the injustice and the indignity.
The sorority house had been informed by Dean Magnus of Margie's tendencies to wander from the path of virtue when something handsome in pants crossed her view. Jane Allen was also aware of this, on the word of Madge Trenton herself. That advice happened to fit perfectly in with her own plans, because she wanted Margie to become her personal bed-slave and as soon as possible. So on this same Saturday when Dorothy Purcell had become transfigured by a burning bottom to find equally hot ecstasy in her loins, Jane Allen imperiously ordered Margie to sweep and clean her room thoroughly. Margie pouted, but she didn't especially want another dose of the paddle, so at least she held her tongue this time. However, she did the work grudgingly, and several times Jane glanced irritatedly over to watch Margie just giving a listless lick and a promise with the broom and dustpan.
"That'll be enough of that gold-bricking, Stanwyk!" she crossly snapped. "Come over here and stand at attention, hands clasped behind your back and looking me square in the eye!"
"Oh, gee," Margie grumbled as she let the broom drop with a clatter to the floor and walked slowly over to face her "Big Sister," who had turned her chair away from her writing desk and was staring with no little annoyance at the attractive brunette pledge. Margie wore a miniskirt which did wonders to exhibit the long sleek beauty of her sinuously high-set calves and gracefully slender thighs, which were sheathed diaphanously in smoke-hued pantie-hose. "Wipe that sulky look off your face, Stanwyk!" the auburn-haired senior directed with a frown. "Now, I think you're just begging for another session with that heinie-duster on my closet shelf."
"That's not fair!" Margie protested, "we've got a maid at home and I'm not used to doing this sort of thing. I can't help it if it takes me longer because I never did it before."
"I'm not complaining about that, I'm complaining about your attitude. You're looking as if you were sentenced to penal servitude at life and I caught some of the dirty looks you've sent my way, Stanwyk. I really think that first dusting-off didn't make the lesson sink in. What's with you, anyway?"
"Well, if you have to know, I'm just sick and tired of being cooped up like some sort of servant here," Margie burst out.
"Oh? So you don't like our sorority house?"
"I didn't say that. I just said I'd like to have a date once in a while and live like other people. Like the way you do, maybe."
"In the first place, I'm a senior and you're a lowly frosh. In the second, I don't happen to be interested in boys."
"No? That's a laugh!"
"Just watch your tongue, Stanwyk!" Jane Allen flushed angrily. "For your information, I know all about your little fun and games back in St. Louis. That's why you're here. This sorority doesn't much care for boys in general, so make up your mind to it you're not going to go out on any orgies."
"Who says I want to go out on orgies?" Margie Stanwyk huffily retorted. "I just want to get laid, that's all. What's so wrong with that?"
A strange glow came into Jane Allen's dark-blue eyes. "Is that all?" she huskily queried.
"That's all. And I'd much rather be doing that than this, I can tell you. Go ahead and paddle me, I suppose because I'm a freshman I haven't got any rights at all, but it's still unfair."
"This time, Margie, I'm not going to paddle you. But I'm going to tell you something. I'm taking you into my confidence, but if you dare breathe a word outside this house, I'll call you a liar and I'll have you blackballed from DGP. And you know what happens when we blackball a pledge, Margie; we call her before all the officers and the girls, and then we have her strip naked and we put a dog collar and leash around her neck and lead her on all fours through the mill a couple of times. And if you think you had a paddling last time, compared with that you'd think somebody was just giving you a massage. Get me?"
"I'm listening," Margie stammered sullenly.
Jane rose and approached. She was about five feet eight, magnificently statuesque in her svelte loveliness. She had a small bottom and big round titties, but her exceptionally lovely long legs had often drawn wolf whistles on campus. Her auburn hair was softly waved and set with the ends swinging away from her face as she moved, giving her somewhat haughty features an interesting kind of animation. She was wearing a thin cotton sweater and skirt that descended to her knees, ankle socks and loafers, and her delicious tawny sheened legs were bare. She stood in front of Margie Stanwyk and stared compellingly at the black-haired pledge till the latter shifted nervously and lowered her eyes.
"There are ways of getting laid, pledge, without having a boy do it. Or maybe you didn't know that," she said slowly.
"Yah? How, I'd sure like to know!"
"Do you really mean that?"
"Of course I do!"
"All right, suppose you take off all your clothes. I'm going to show you how it can be done."
"Hey now, wait a minute!" Margie blushingly protested. "I don't go that route. I'm no dyke!"
Jane Allen's hand shot out and smartly smacked Margie's cheek. "Don't ever use that ugly word again, not anywhere in this house, or you'll really go through the mill. And anyway, what I'm going to show you will, I think, if you try to use what little intelligence you've got, convince you that you can have all the fun a boy can give you and none of the trouble."
"You hit me," Margie muttered angrily, rubbing her flaming cheek. "So you're the big boss and I have to stand here and take it. All right, show me. But it better be good! You can't make me do it if I don't want to, and I don't have to take off all my clothes. A freshman's got some rights, even here."
Jane Allen gave her a long scathing look, then thought better of a reply and walked over to her chest of drawers. She stooped to the bottom drawer, pulled it open and took out a box. She returned to the wide double bed, set the box down on it and then took off the lid. "Come over here and look, Stanwyk," she invited.
With a heartfelt sigh that expressed her utter boredom at having to waste her time this way, Margie Stanwyk ambled over to the bed. Then her eyes widened and her jaw dropped: "Oh gosh!" she ejaculated, "it-it's a pr-prick!"
"Why, Margie," Jane Allen teased sadistically, "sweet little freshman like you, knowing such a naughty word. No wonder your folks wrote the Dean to have her look after you, so she turned it over to us. Don't you worry, Margie, I'll see that you get laid as often as you want."
"With-with that! Margie echoed incredulously.
"Sure. Look, it's made of rubber, and it looks exactly like what you just said, doesn't it? Balls and all. And I'll tell you something else. See this little button near the balls?"
Fascinated, Margie nodded, not taking her eyes from the implement, which was of course a highly realistic flesh-colored rubber dildo with web strap and even artificial hair covering the testes, so realistic that even the dark-blue veins of a swollen male prick appeared along the imitative shaft.
"There's a little cylinder inside which you fill with warm water or something else like that. You press this little button and presto, you feel yourself squirted. Only this kind of squirt doesn't make babies, Margie. Now do you get the picture?"
Margie blushed violently, lowered her eyes and then nodded. "Y-yah-I-I see what you mean. But gee, I mean-won't it hurt-I mean-"
"Come on, baby, take off your clothes and let Mama show you how it works," Jane Allen huskily whispered. Her hands moved forward towards Margie's titties and fondled them gently, and then she kissed Margie squarely on the mouth.
Margie hadn't been prepared for a Lesbian seduction scene. But she had been extremely lonely here at Northeastern, and only last night she had frigged herself to sleep, pretending that it was Donnie, the boy who had just about taken her cherry until her folks had walked in so unexpectedly. And so, averting her eyes from the somewhat amused auburn-haired senior, she began to undress until she was down to her smoke-colored pantie hose and pumps.
The sight of that voluptuous half-naked olive-skinned figure made Jane Allen tremble with ill-concealed lust. She quickly stripped naked except for her ankle socks and loafers, attached the dildo and faced Margie, who began to giggle.
"So you think this is a laughing matter, Stanwyk?" Jane angrily rasped. "Just for that, I am going to spank you. I'm going to warm your bottom up so your pussy will get real hot. Then you'll see how much better this is than a boy. It doesn't ever get soft, the way a boy's does, either."
Laying the dildo back in its box, she advanced on Margie who backed away. But Jane was taller and more wiry, and in a few moments Margie felt herself mastered. Jane adroitly posed her left foot on the edge of the bed, forced Margie across her upraised knee, her left hand gripping Margie by the scruff of the neck, and then she began to spank Margie's nylon-sheathed bottom with energetic swats from her open right palm. Soon Margie was squealing and beginning to dance and trying to fend off the spanks with both hands. When this happened, Jane dexterously caught her wrists in her left hand and continued the spanking even more vigorously till soon Margie was sobbing and begging her to stop.
"Take off the pantie-hose and your pumps and get into bed or I will use the paddle," she warned.
Sniffling, tearful Margie Stanwyk hastily obeyed and clambered into bed, looking fearfully at the box. Jane grinned coolly as she took it out again and put it back on. Margie's eyes widened as Jane mounted the bed now and came towards her on her knees. "Open wide, baby, just as if you were at the dentist," Jane quipped.
"It-it'll hurt-please don't-take it easy," Margie quavered nervously, clenching her fists and digging them against the sheets as she tried to back away.
"I've already rubbed some vaseline over it, you hot-pussied little bitch," Jane said in a vibrant contralto. "Now shut up and I'll show you how you can get fucked all you want and not get into trouble on this campus."
Margie whimpered as the menacing glans of the artificial prick approached the black-curly-haired mount of her virgin cunt. Jane impatiently took hold of the soft fleshy pink lips of the vulva with thumbs and forefingers and yawned it open as she advanced the simulacrum. Then she slowly advanced herself until she banged up against Margie's cherry.
"Oww! That does hurt! Oh please take it out, Jane, please!"
"If you say another word, I'll call Deborah in and we'll give you the paddle till you can't sit down for a month," Jane threatened. It sufficed. Whimpering, Margie closed her eyes, twisted her face away and at that moment Jane lunged forward, breaking through the seal of Margie Stanwyk's maidenhead.
Then, stretching out over the girl, her mouth fused to Margie's as her hands slipped under Margie's inflamed and still warm bottom. She began to fuck slowly, with slow deliberate thrusts, hilting the artificial weapon, then as slowly with drawing it to the very brink of Margie's pussy. Slyly her forefinger slipped between the firm stainy cheeks of Margie's bottom, found the dainty rosette of Margie's asshole, and delicately intruded just inside. Margie's sphincter muscle began to clench and contract, and the naked brunette moaned and arched and wriggled: "Aah-oh please-oh Jane, it does hurt-it's stretching me to pieces-ooooh, please take it out-don't goose me-oohhh, ahhhh!"
But Jane by now decided to take the upper hand as, in her role of senior and "Big Sister," she had every right to do. She dug her finger in to the hilt and began to wriggle it around in Margie's tight humid bumhole, while she quickened the thrusts of the rubber ramrod. And soon Margie was beginning to arch and wriggle and twist, to buck and weave and to groan in the throes of impending girl-gush. Suddenly, with a sobbing cry of delight, she clamped her arms and legs around Jane and returned kiss for kiss, parting her lips and letting Jane's tongue delve in.
And thus it was that Margie Stanwyk, sent away far from home to preserve her cherry, lost it but technically retained her virginity to man!
Finally, Eleanor Montrose, two months short of her seventeenth birthday and already a potential beauty contest winner with her helmet-styled golden hair, huge blue eyes and Cupid's bow of a passionate red mouth, was assigned to the tender mercies of Bella Carter, a twenty-year-old copper-haired junior who was being slated to replace Madge Trenton as sorority prexy when Madge's term was up.
Bella was a switch hitter, an heiress in her own right. She had come from Memphis and enrolled at Northeastern to be near her forty-five-year-old uncle, an insurance counselor whose office was in one of Chicago's North Side suburbs. Her parents had divorced three years ago, and her father had died of a heart attack the following year, on his wedding night to a girl half his age. She had frenched him to death, literally. But Bella had been initiated by her uncle into the mysteries of prick and pussy and their ultimate cohesion at the tender age of fourteen, and when her uncle had married just a year ago, she had secretly become the Lesbian partner of his devastatingly lovely twenty-nine-year-old wife Kathy. Since Bella's uncle had a sadistic flair in his makeup, he had taught both his wife and his niece to stage spanking games in which he would be the arbiter and ultimate victor; the two young women would play strip poker to determine who would be the loser. Whoever was naked first was spanked by the other, and the Bella's uncle decided whom he preferred to fuck. The girl being fucked, however, had to requite her part of this lust-triangle by gamahuching her as the latter knelt astride her mouth.
Eleanor Montrose, on the other hand, was a naive virgin and had come to school for an education, a rarity in our modern day and age. Her parents had sheltered her from dating, realizing only too well that her voluptuously ripe beauty might lead her to many pitfalls. What they didn't know was that she was intensely curious and what she lacked in knowledge, she made up for in latent sensual impulse. On this very same Saturday afternoon, she was listening agog to Bella's fascinatingly erotic stories about the latter's own bedtime frolics. "You mean-you can have sex with a man and with a woman too and enjoy them both?" she gasped, turning a delicious scarlet.
"Sure, stupid," her "Big Sister" giggled. "Don't knock it unless you've tried it, as the saying goes. And what about you, Elli? Haven't you ever been boffed by a guy?"
"Oh no!" Eleanor Montrose gasped, her blushes deepening still more and spreading almost to her spectacularly round, closely set and high-perched titties.
Bella eyed her pledge with more than friendly curiosity. So far, Eleanor had been a very good girl about running errands and had escaped paddling, which was also something of a rarity at Delta Gamma Phi. But that wasn't to say that Bella didn't have burning desires to strip Eleanor's voluptuous ass and see what interesting colors a paddle could raise on the girl's marvelously pink-and-white velvety skin. Now, she concluded, would be as good a time as any. "How'd you like to have a little fun this afternoon, baby?" she gently inquired.
"I-I don't know what you mean."
"You just do what I tell you to-you have to, anyway, because I'm your 'Big Sister,' Ellie. Now this is an order. I want you to take off your clothes right now."
"Everything? Oh-but I've never-I mean-I've never been all bare in front of even my mother," the golden-haired freshman gasped.
Bella told herself that this girl was almost too good to be true. She had small pointed closely spaced titties, a slim waist and a magnificently undulating, upstandingly rounded bottom, as well as a devastatingly strawberry-blonde complexion. If truth be told, her uncle much preferred her bottom to spank to that of his own luscious brown-haired wife's. And, knowing something about the reputation of the sorority in which his niece was enrolled and in which she stood in such high esteem, he had purchased a dildo for her, whimsically telling her, "If worse comes to worst, Bella baby, and you can't get into town to see us as often as you'd like, Amy and I want you to have this so you can take care of those burning little needs between those gorgeous legs of yours."
As Eleanor still hesitated, Bella sharply repeated: "That's an order, frosh! Peel!"
"Oh please, Bella, don't make me-I'd get so ashamed-" Eleanor quavered.
"Would you rather have a good sound paddling on the bare instead?" was the alternative.
Eleanor gasped, hastily rose, and was able to conquer her innate modesty enough to remove dress and slip. When Bella saw gorgeous bubbies in the tight white nylon bra and the plump pussy valve with its soft curls of dark-golden love-hair, she mentally licked her lips. Eleanor's parents had never believed in letting their daughter wear miniskirts or pantie-hose, so Eleanor's lusciously curved legs were sheathed in modest flesh-toned nylons, held up by a very narrow garterbelt. The golden-haired freshman hesitated now, blushing violently as she saw Bella's blue eyes lave her quivering charms. "I said peel, pledge, and I meant it! Take off the bra and the panties. You can keep your garterbelt and stockings, they won't get in the way," Bella commanded. Just to show Eleanor that she meant what she said, she walked over towards the mantelpiece and put her hand out towards the paddle resting on its top. Eleanor squealed, "Oh don't, I'll do it!" and reached behind her to unhook the bra and let it flutter to the floor. Then she promptly clamped her hands over her titties and turned away in sweet maidenly confusion.
"You're going to get ten on your tail, Ellie, unless those panties are off by the time I count to ten," her "Big Sister" domineeringly informed her. "One ... two ... three-"
Again Eleanor squealed in alarm, stooped and wriggled out of her panties, letting them festoon her ankles and stepped out of them. One of her hands immediately descended to cover her pussy and she stood there like September Morn, her eyes big and round and scared.
"Now get into bed this minute," was her temptress' next command. And since Bella was reaching for the paddle again Eleanor had no wish to challenge that kind of burning authority and scrambled over to the bed and flung herself down on it on her back.
Bella Carter smiled as she moved toward the bed, undressing as she came. Her slinky figure was bare except for charcoal-brown nylons and black satin-elastic garterbelt, as she scuffed off her pumps and clambered on the bed beside the quivering, blushing blonde freshman. "Now relax, I'm not going to hurt you. Put your arms around me and give me a nice hug and a kiss," she ordered.
She promptly crawled over Eleanor and stretched herself out over the girl's shivering naked body. Then her mouth covered Eleanor's, and the golden-haired neophyte uttered a muffled gasp as she felt Bella's cunt rub against hers, felt Bella's titties rasp their turgid buds against her own pouting, soft coral-tinted nipples.
Slowly Bella began to pussy rub, her slim long fingers fondling Eleanor's magnificent bubbies, her tongue expertly delving between Eleanor's lips until the eager virgin was shivering as with ague. Then suddenly she reversed herself and, plunging her head down between Eleanor's trembling thighs, hissed, "Kiss me and suck me you know where, and I'll do the same for you. Then see if you don't get hot!"
With this, she promptly set to work gamahuching the golden-haired naked freshman, and at the first touch of her tongue against Eleanor's clitoris, the latter squealed, drew up her knees and wriggled her bottom frenziedly, as she moaned, "Ohhh, what are you doing to me-oh my Lordie, it's just wonderful!"
"Didn't I tell you? Now shut up and get to work on me," Bella Carter commanded.
Eleanor put up no further argument. Half an hour later, she lay wan and ecstatic after having been drawn to three violent climaxes. Her "Big Sister" lay beside her, playing with Eleanor's pussyhairs while her other hand fondled one of those juicy bubbies, her lips brushing the poutingly turgid nipple. "You see, silly?" she cooed lovingly. "Now do you want to find out what it's like to be fucked by a boy?"
"Oh yes," Eleanor breathed, "but I'd just die of shame if a boy came in here now-"
"You really are a child of nature, aren't you Ellie? We don't need a boy. All we need is a good stiff dick, and I've got that in my drawer. You just lie there and get ready for it, I'll show you," Bella Carter purred.
And when she turned back from her dresser, the menacing dildo sticking out ahead of her loins as if she had suddenly been converted to the opposite sex, Eleanor lifted her head from the pillow and stared disbelievingly: "Oh where in the world did you ever find anything like that? Is it really-oh my goodness, it's too big, it'll kill me!"
"No it won't, stupid. Now I will spank you if you don't shut up and let me do it to you. Here I come, ready or not! And I'm going to make you come too, you bitchy, bitchy-pussy little virgin you!" Bella Carter giggled.
It was a bit painful at the outset, because Eleanor Montrose's hymen was tight and resisted penetration. But a few energetic digs of the dildo, and the instrument was hilted in her tight warm sheath. To make things even more interesting for his passionate and amoral niece, her uncle had managed to purchase a dildo which had whorls and ridges, and even a tiny little "French tickler" at the end. Once this tip delved to the very bottom of Eleanor Montrose's tender cunt, the golden-haired freshman bucked and twisted and wriggled, scratched and clawed and kissed her "Big Sister" frenziedly.
It was going to be a very interesting semester for them both, Bella Carter thought. She was going to have lots of fun initiating little Ellie into other uses for the dildo. Especially on the initiation night during "Hell Week," when Ellie's tender big bottom would be burning hot. That was when a dildo felt the best going in the back door.