Tag Archives: erotica

The Initiation Chapter 2 – The Paddle

Posted by W.H. Collins on

First Chapter of W.H. Collins’s dark erotic novel “The Initiation.”. All nineteen chapters are available from Amazon and All Romance

Note that this story is intended for mature audiences only and contains extremely graphic depictions of material that many audiences will find disturbing, including spanking and forced nudity. Nothing herein is intended to glorify or condone the horrific experiences which the protagonist endures, and the reader is strictly instructed not to take any prurient interest in this tale of violence and sexual exploitation.

—

During the course of the next week, Jessica’s paddle passed around between the Theta sisters. The pledges had all written down their cell numbers so that they could be called to duty at any time.

Jessica spent one evening with another pledge wiping down all the counters in the sorority kitchen while several of the upperclassmen looked on, paddles in hand, sipping white wine and barking orders. She was sent to pick up one girl’s dry cleaning, requiring Jessica to bring the massive pile of bagged clothes onto the public bus, since she did not have a car, and causing her to be late for class much to her embarrassment.

Michelle even made good on her foot-massage threat. Jessica was called into the library Wednesday evening, where her pudgy sister ordered her to kneel down beside the carroll where the older girl’s books were stacked. Jessica hesitated, looking around at the crowded library, but, when Michelle pulled the paddle out of her bookbag with the words “Jessica Johnston” clearly visible, Jessica lowered herself to the floor where Michelle was already kicking off her slippers and wriggling her bare toes in anticipation.

Jessica took a fat, slightly pungent foot in both hands and began to knead, as Michelle let out a theatrical sigh. Jessica glanced hesitantly over her shoulder to see who was taking a break from their studies to watch this humiliating scene. Some students seemed to be consciously averting their eyes as if to spare her the shame. A few grinned at her or snickered to their neighbor, but for the most part everyone was aware of the rituals of pledge week and paid her no mind. Just as she was about to turn her attention back to Michelle’s calloused soles, though, she noticed the red-headed boy from her Intro to Econ class, on whom Jessica was developing a preliminary crush, sitting several seats over. They briefly made eye contact. Jessica blushed deeply and ducked her head down.

The worst came Thursday night, however. It was past 10, and Jessica was already in her pajamas, sweat pants and an oversized, old T-Shirt with the logo of an insurance company, when there was a rough pounding on her dorm room door. “What now?” Jessica thought wearily as she sat up in bed and walked slowly to door, glancing over her shoulder at her roommate who was consumed with some task at her computer, a pair of massive, studio-style headphones enveloping both her ears.

Jessica opened the door to find Shannon and two other Thetas.  One of them was carrying what appeared to be a gift basket, a cellophane-wrapped bundle about the size of a bag of groceries. Another was clutching some sort of clothing item at her side, and a turquoise-green strap dangling down conspicuously by her knees. But it was the object in Shannon’s hands on which Jessica’s eyes came to rest: the paddle carved with Jessica’s name.

Shannon regarded her for a moment with a pursed-lipped scowl and twirled the paddle in her open palm. The wooden face spun around and around. JESSICA ♥ JOHNSTON – θθΨ –JESSICA ♥ JOHNSTON – θθΨ – JESSICA ♥ JOHNSTON – θθΨ – JESSICA ♥ JOHNSTON. Finally, she spoke.

“Nice sweats, Rushie. I hope you’re not thinking it’s bedtime yet because we’ve got an important mission for you.”

Jessica just nodded, self-consciously adjusting the waistband of her pants. The two girls standing behind Shannon gave each other a look, and one let out a derisive chuckle.

“Listen up. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday next week, so I thought it would be fun to have one of my little Rushie servants deliver him a surprise present.”

Shannon nodded to the girl with the gift basket who thrust it over to Jessica. Jessica clumsily accepted the package, adjusting her hold as she haltingly tried to figure out how best to grasp the awkwardly shaped mass of cellophane.  Inside, she could make out what looked like a bottle of liquor and some small boxes that might contain chocolate.

“He’s Sigma Tau Phi,” continued Shannon, “so you’ll have to carry this over to the Sig House. Just knock on the door and ask for Nick.”

Jessica couldn’t exactly picture the Sigma Tau Phi fraternity house, but she knew that all the frat houses were located along a single street on the north end of campus, the opposite end of campus from her dormitory. It would be a thirty minute walk at least, she thought, frustrated that she would not be getting to bed for at least another hour. But there was nothing to do except obey. The rules of Rush Week were clear. If she wanted to be a Theta, she had to follow Shannon’s instructions.

“Ok,” Jessica said simply, looking down at the basket cradled in her arms.

“’Ok.’” Shannon imitated her in a mocking, idiot-voice. “’Ok, Ma’am’ I think you mean. But if you think your task is going to be that easy, you’re even more stupid than you look. And you look pretty retarded. See, I thought it would be fun to give those Sig boys a thrill. Me and Teresa were talking earlier about which Rushie I should make my delivery bitch, and I was like, what about that one blonde bimbo? She doesn’t look like she’s ever had one intelligent thought flash through that empty head of hers, but I bet that slutty porn-star body of hers would look great in a bikini.”

The girl at Shannon’s left held up the wad of blue-green material that had been bunched up in her fist. Jessica recognized it now as a swimsuit, apparently a two-piece. But she stared at it uncomprehendingly. What did a bikini have to do with this gift basket she was supposed to deliver to Nick at the Sigma House?

“Every delivery bitch needs a uniform. And we decided this would be more exciting that those brown UPS slacks. I hope you didn’t think you were going out in those grungy sweat pants.”

The three girls barged their way past Jessica and into her dorm room. Jessica backed away dumbfounded. They were going to make her walk across campus in a swimsuit? Knock on the door of a frat house where she didn’t know anybody wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini?

“Let’s go. Chop chop, Rushie. Put that down, and get changed.”

As soon as Jessica set down the gift basket, the swimsuit was stuffed into her hand, and Jessica noted with growing dread how insubstantial it felt. She unwadded it and held the two pieces up separatedly. It was even worse than she thought. Jessica had never owned swimwear like this. The cups of the top were triangular and connected by thin straps, the bottom tapered into tiny strings at the sides, not a thong exactly but clearly not designed to cover very much. It was something out of Sports Illustrated, the sort of immodest, impractical getup worn by girls begging for attention.

Behind her, one of the girls had shut the dorm-room door. Jessica’s roommate looked up briefly at the four sorority girls with a look mild and slightly disdainful curiosity but quickly went back to her computer screen.

“Well?” demanded Shannon. “Let’s get going, Rushie. Get those gross sweat pants off and get into your delivery bitch uniform. I don’t have a lot of patience for bullshit tonight.”

Jessica looked up from the swimsuit to the three girls, her stomach tied in knots. Were they going to just stand there and watch her change? Jessica had always been very shy about dressing in public. Even when she had been on the volleyball team, had always sought out the most sheltered corner of the locker room and timed the order of her dressing to leave as little exposed at a time as she could.

“Let’s go, Rushie!” Shannon shouted exasperated, “Or I’ll have Teresa and Vicky here pull down your pants for you, then I’m gonna paddle your bare ass bright red and send you out to make your delivery buck naked!”

Jessica’s heart quickened, and she began fumbling ineffectually with the swimsuit, her mind momentarily unable to grapple with anything except the terrifying thoughts of having these girls forcibly undress her, of them spanking her with that paddle in front of her roommate, of being sent outside naked. But she tried to remind herself that it was just to scare her. They wouldn’t do any of that. Would they?

Meanwhile, Jessica’s roomate’s attention had been attracted by Shannon’s raised voice. She looked over at them and popped one of the headphones discreetly off one ear. Shannon made eye contact with her.

“Hey you, if your roommate doesn’t start obeying instructions pretty quick. We’re gonna have to bend her over this bed right here and give her a thorough paddling. That’s not gonna disturb you, is it?”

Jessica’s roommate shrugged, clearly scornful of these humiliating hazing rituals but just wanting to keep out of it. “Whatever,” she said and went back to her computer.

Jolted by the sound of the paddle smacking against Shannon’s palm, Jessica quickly but shakily grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. Prepared for bed, Jessica had not been wearing a bra, and her naked breasts, dragged upward by the motion of the shirt, bounced back down when the material was pulled free and jiggled momentarily before finding their equilibrium. Jessica, feeling the eyes of the three Thetas on her body, immediately reached up to shield herself with her free forearm. As she turned to toss her shirt down on her bed, she heard one of the girls grunt with a tone of gruding appreciation.

“Wow, you gotta admit, those are some nice boobs,” she muttered to her sister.

“Seriously. Did you see that bounce? Buh-dong-dong. Totally hot,” said the other.

There wasn’t much malice in the comments, but Jessica still blushed to hear her body discussed that way. She tried to focus on getting changed as quickly as possible. She grabbed the bikini top and slid it under her protective forearm, centering the triangles over her nipples and holding them in place while her free hand guided the straps over her shoulders. She faltered, and the top went momentarily slack, causing her right breast to pop obscenely into view.

“Aw, little Rushie can’t quite dress herself,” Shannon taunted, “Let me do it, or we’ll be here all night.”

Shannon stepped behind Jessica and took over. She reached around and grabbed Jessica’s exposed breast, more roughly than necessary, and stuffed it inside the bikini. Jessica let out a short gasp at the sudden, unexpected invasion but otherwise said nothing. Shannon pulled back on the strings, causing Jessica’s breasts to lift and pushing them together ever so slightly. Shannon pulled even tighter, and Jessica’s cleavage swelled, her spherical breasts hoisted up at a gravity-defying-angle by the taut blue-green material. Once Shannon had pulled the bikini top as tight as she could, she tied it off and stepped back.

Jessica caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging from the inside of the dorm-room door. Her boobs spilled out on either side of their small, triangular harnesses, and Jessica even noted that the underside of her breasts were visible, bulging out from underneath the turquoise cradles that kept them suspended above their natural resting points. She couldn’t go outside wearing this. She just couldn’t.

At the sound of another slap of the paddle against Shannon’s palm, Jessica tore herself away from the mirror. The three girls were all looking at her expectantly. She looked down at the bikini bottoms lying next to her shirt on the bed. Suddenly, she regretted the decision to do her top first, since she now realized how exposed she was about to be once she took off her sweat pants. But it was too late now. She glanced briefly at her roommate to see if she was looking. Thankfully, she wasn’t. One less audience member, at least. Avoiding any eye contact, Jessica slipped her thumbs inside the waistband of her sweats and pulled them downwards, past her panty-clad crotch, over her white thighs and all the way down to the floor, where she had to bend down to ease the elastic over her ankles. She stood back up, acutely aware of how naked she was. With a deep breath, she grabbed her panties and began to peel those too down her legs.

Jessica turned slightly to the side as she slid her panties down, so that her bush would not be front and center towards the three girls who continued to stare at her with unapologetic directness. When her panties fell past her knees, she straightened up and covered her crotch with her hand, allowing her underwear to fall to the ground. Kicking the panties off, she grabbed for the bikini bottom as quickly as she could, nearly tripping over herself as she stepped into the leg holes and yanked it up over her naked crotch and ass.

It was as tight as the top. Almost certainly not her size. She had to tug to get the material high enough on her waist just to cover up her ass crack and the tops of her pubes, the latter of which she was horrified to see were still visible peeking out from behind the turquoise bikini bottom. Jessica tried to discreetly stuff the blonde hairs back down inside as best she could.

Again, she risked a glance towards the mirror. She was prepared for what she would see, but it was still disorienting to see herself in such a revealing bathing suit, so far from a beach and surrounded by these other fully clothed women. She looked like she should be preparing for a modeling shoot or about to don a sash for a beauty pageant swimsuit competition. Instead, she knew, she was about to be forced to travel across a college campus and knock on a frat house door.

Shannon let out a low whistle and began to walk slowly around behind Jessica, ostentatiously evaluating her body.

“Yeah, those Sigs are gonna hit the roof when they get a look at this slut,” Shannon said.

Slut? Jessica recoiled at the word. Yes, that’s what she would look like, showing up at the doorstep of this house full of boys practically naked. She felt her face flush at the thought. They wouldn’t make her do that, would they? They were just faking her out, right?

“Alright, delivery bitch, grab that basket and get your ass over to the Sig House.”

The Initiation: Chapter 1 – The Pledge

Posted by W.H. Collins on

First Chapter of W.H. Collins’s dark erotic novel “The Initiation.”. All nineteen chapters are available from Amazon and All Romance

Note that this story is intended for mature audiences only and contains extremely graphic depictions of material that many audiences will find disturbing, including spanking and forced nudity. Nothing herein is intended to glorify or condone the horrific experiences which the protagonist endures, and the reader is strictly instructed not to take any prurient interest in this tale of violence and sexual exploitation.

—

Jessica had grown up her whole life hearing about Theta Theta Psi. Her mom had been in the sorority back when she was an Art History major at the University, and half the glasses in the family’s cupboard were etched with those two strange little o’s and the forky thing. The same Greek letters were on the throw pillows on the living room couch, and on the key chain dangling from their station wagon’s rearview mirror, and on the oversized yellow hoodie that Jessica used to snuggle up in all through junior high while reading her detective novels.

The times when Jessica remembered seeing her Mom most happy—the only times she remembered seeing her Mom truly happy after Jessica’s father left—were when she would return from a girl’s night out hanging out with her Theta friends.

From a very young age, Jessica’s mom had made it known how much it would mean to her if her daughter was able to join the same sorority. For a time, it seemed to her mother like an impossible dream. Puberty found Jessica a shy, passive girl. Not Theta material. She had friends, but was not popular. She chose volleyball and cross-country over cheerleading. To her mother’s chagrin, she spent the night of her 8th grade dance alone in her room reading Agatha Christie.

Yet, as school turned from middle to high, Jessica blossomed despite herself. Her skin cleared up, her long, blonde hair became less greasy and more wavy and lustrous, and her trim, athletic build was complemented by the arrival of more womanly characteristics. She developed her mother’s leggy figure, her fit runner’s thighs rising into a full, pert bottom, and her breasts expanded into perky, round D-cups which seemed even larger than they were against the canvas of her comparatively slim frame. Though envied by many of the other girls at school, the size of her breasts was a source of anxiety for Jessica. They made sports difficult, bobbing up and down as she ran around the track and squeezing together awkwardly as she straightened her arms for a bump on the volleyball court. Worse, her ample bosom (as her mother’s romance novels would have put it) and her body more generally attracted attention from boys that Jessica did not always welcome.

It was for this reason as much as any other that she had begun dating Derek late in her Junior year. Derek was an all-district running back, and when he was around no one dared flirt with her, much less make the crass comments that every so often she’d be allowed to overhear (Once, she had opened her locker to find an anonymous note stuffed inside. “How much to fuck those tits?” was all it said). And Derek was also a nice guy. He hardly ever pressured her to go further physically than she was comfortable, and it wasn’t until shortly before graduation that she’d finally decided to have sex with him, allowing him to unbutton her jeans and slide them down her legs as she lay on her back on top of the pale blue comforter of her childhood bedroom. Losing her virginity turned out to be quick (Derek’s stamina was apparently confined to the football field) and less painful than she’d imagined, and she was happy to have gotten it out of the way before she left for the University in the fall. When they broke up three months later, though, Jessica wasn’t heartbroken.

Her mother, of course, was overjoyed that Jessica would be attending her alma mater, and there had been no question about what which sorority’s events Jessica should attend when Rush Week had rolled around. “Being a legacy is very important to getting a bid in Theta Theta Psi, but it’s not the only thing,” her mother had told her during a phone call after Jessica’s first week of classes. “This is the most selective sorority on campus. You have to show them that you have the Theta spirit. Get out and impress those girls, Jess!” Jessica’s mom still worried that the other girls would find Jessica too quiet and introverted to invite into the sorority. Jessica’s beauty was undeniable, but this could work both ways in the ruthless female politics of the Greek system. If her daughter was rejected, how could she show her face at Theta Theta Psi reunions? This pressure, in turn, had affected Jessica, who had made every effort attend all the Theta rush events, putting her best face forward at every one and paying an unusual amount of attention to appearance.

So when Jessica received the square pink envelope in her campus mailbox that meant a Theta bid, she was relieved and excited. She immediately called her mom, who was predictably ecstatic.

“Oh, I’m so proud of you, honey. I hope you realize what a huge honor this is. Now, you just need to make it through pledge week and the initiation and then you’ll be part of the Theta Theta Psi family for life! You don’t know how amazing it is, to know you have so many sisters you can always count on.”

Jessica basked in her mother’s approval, but she felt a momentary queasiness at the mention of “initiation.” She had heard oblique references to how the sorority initiated its pledges, passed amid smirking looks by the older sisters during Theta events and circulated through her Freshman dorm as third-hand rumor. She asked her mother what the initiation involved.

“Oh, Sweetheart, you know I can’t tell you! The sisterhood’s secrets are never spoken of with outsiders, and you’re not a Theta yet. I’m sure the rituals have changed since my day anyway. Just do everything you’re told and don’t make a big fuss. Remember all your sisters have been through the same thing. It’s part of the bond you share.”

***

“Officium Obsequium Obtemperatio. That is our sisterhood’s motto. Remember it. You will be tested.”

Pledge week began with a formal dinner in the enormous dining hall of the sorority house. Jessica was seated next to the other eight pledges who had received bids that semester. Presiding over the occasion was Theta Theta Psi’s President Eliza Hernandez and its Treasurer Shannon Fletcher, both seniors. Jessica was frightened by Shannon, who, with her straight black hair and haughty scowl, looked and acted just a little bit like an evil queen from a Disney movie. What’s more, Shannon seemed to have taken a dislike to Jessica during Rush Week, making snide, belittling remarks whenever Jessica dared to speak.

After dinner, Eliza had addressed the group. Her speech had begun by telling the pledges, much as Jessica’s mother had, what an honor it was to be selected for Theta Theta Psi. She had given a history of the sorority and extolled the virtues of lifelong sisterhood. She had then moved on to explaining what to expect during pledge week, how they would all leave for the sorority’s cabin in Mt. Greenwood on Friday, where the final initiation ceremony would take place.

In the meantime, though, Eliza made clear that the new girls’ hazing would begin immediately.

“Officium Obsequium Obtemperatio. Does anyone know what that means?” she asked.

The pledge sitting two seats down spoke up hesitantly: “Um, like Duty . . . Servility? Submission?”

“I see we’ve got a budding Classics major in our midst, Sisters, but not quite. What does our motto mean, Ladies?”

“Dedication. Obedience. Discipline,” the entire room seemed to chant out in unison.

The pledge pursed her lips as if she might quibble with this translation but said nothing.

“Remember those words,” Eliza continued, “When you walk out of here tonight, you will officially be Theta Theta Psi pledges. If you prove yourselves worthy, by this time next week you be welcomed into the sisterhood. But for the time being, you are nothing. I want you to look around at your fellow Rushies. In all likelihood one or two of you will not have what it takes to join us. For the next week, we’ll be watching you and testing you. You belong to us.”

“You’re our slaaaaves…” hissed one of the older girls in a tone of mock spookiness. It was a chubby, brassy girl named Michelle that Jessica recognized from several of the Rush Week functions. Several of the pledges giggled nervously.

“Sister, please pass out the paddles,” Eliza said.

Shannon reached into a cardboard box behind the podium and pulled out an armful of wooden objects. Walking around to the far side of the table, she deposited one in front of each of the new girls. Jessica’s paddle hit the table in front of her with a loud CLACK!, and Jessica leaned forward to examine it.

It was identical to the Theta Theta Psi paddle she had always seen by her mother’s bedside growing up. It was short as sorority paddles went, no more than about two-and-a-half feet in length, more ping pong paddle than boat paddle really, but made from thick, solid wood and with a sturdy, rounded handle. Jessica felt a mix of confusing emotions looking at it. On the one hand, she was proud to be given this tangible symbol of her belonging, one that connected her not only to her future sisters but also through tradition to her mother.

On the other hand, as she looked at the paddle, thoughts came to her that had never occurred looking at the similar object by her mother’s bedside. What was the paddle used for? Was it just symbolism, tradition? Or were they actually going to use that on her as part of the initiation?  Jessica had seen enough movies to know what that might involve. Would she really be spanked with that paddle? Would she be forced to bend over in front of everybody while one of these other girls smacked her in the ass with it? How far would it go? Would they do it hard? Would she be blindfolded? Would they—the thought sent the butterflies in Jessica’s stomach swirling—Would they make her take her clothes off? Stand there naked in front of them while they spanked her bare bottom with this paddle?

To quiet her nerves, Jessica tried to focus on the craftsmanship of the paddle. On one side was carved the sorority’s Greek letters, lacquered in crimson. Gingerly, she reached out and turned it over. On the other side, was carved her name: Jessica Johnston. Between the two words was a heart.

Suddenly a hand reached out and slapped the paddle back down onto the table with another resounding CLACK!

“Did we tell you you could touch it, Pledgie?” Shannon peered down sneeringly at her. “You bitches better learn some respect if you’re gonna survive Hell Week.”

“These paddles all have your names on them . . .” Eliza said from her podium.

“I definitely got a paddle with your name on it,” one of the girls cracked, making an exaggerated batting motion accompanied by a “Whizzzz. . . Smack!” sound effect that made a few of the other girls chuckle.

“These paddles all have your names on them,” Eliza continued, ignoring the interruption, “but they are not yours. Not yet. We will be keeping custody of these paddles until after the initiation ceremony. Until that time, whoever holds this paddle, you are to obey unquestioningly. You will do whatever they say. Run their errands. Carry their books. Mop their floors . . .”

“Clean my toilet!” one of the girls yelled out.

“Massage my feet!” shouted Michelle.

“Jam things in your cunt for my entertainment!” chimed in Shannon.

Many of the girls laughed. Eliza looked at Shannon disapprovingly at first, but after a moment even she shook her head and smiled at the Treasurer’s outrageousness.

Jessica took a deep breath and looked at symbols etched on her paddle’s face, making a silent promise to herself to stick things out no matter what.