Sorority from Hell

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Description

by John Savage

It sounded like a simple assignment: go undercover pretending to be a pledge and discover the secrets of the most notorious sorority on campus, Sigma Epsilon Chi. And it might be fun since the writer sent to pose as a student was more than a little lesbian. And pretty kinky also, which might prove a useful trait if that house filled with beautiful, young women proved to be anything like the rumors.

What Tiffany finds, however, is much more than she expected. Kinky was hardly the word for that over-sexed group of lesbians. During Hell Week, when those wishing to join the sorority have to undergo numerous tests and ordeals to ensure they are suitable to join the sorority, Tiffany finds that all the pledges must wear nothing but hot pants and high heels around the house, are tied to their beds at night, bound tightly at other times, paddled on bare bottoms, and subjected to torments designed to scare the hell out of them!

But what a great story this will make for her magazine! If she survives Hell Week, that is.

Published: April 2016      No. words: 44,700EX1t

The room was dark, lit only by a few flickering candles.  Half a dozen young women sat around, eagerly awaiting the coming show.  In the center, hanging by her wrists from an overhead beam, was another young woman.  The ropes cut into her wrists as they took all her weight, and her toes were a good foot off the floor.  Her naked skin and soft curves glowed in the candlelight that also highlighted her blonde hair.  With head bowed and partly hidden behind the long golden locks that also hid her breasts, the woman awaited the coming show but not with the anticipation of the others.

“You are guilty of having been late for dinner,” came a stern female voice from behind her.  “Do you deny it?”

“No,” she said weakly.

“And do you accept your punishment?”

“I was delayed by traffic,” she pleaded.

“No excuse.  Plus one.”

“But it was not my fault…” she whined.

“Plus two.  A sister does not offer pitiful excuses when she had broken the rules.  She accepts her punishment.  Do you have anything more to say?”

“No,” came in a whimper.

“Then the punishment shall be executed.”

The naked woman braced herself for the pain she knew was coming.  But the woman behind her, being more than a little sadistic, did not deliver it immediately, instead letting her stew in the anticipation of pain.  Almost a full minute passed before she swung the wooden paddle.

The blonde cried loudly as the wood impacted with her bare ass.  Her body jerked forward and her legs did a little dance on the air from the intensity of the pain exploding in her behind.  That paddle was swung with all the strength the woman holding it could manage.  The smacking sound filled the room.  Those girls watching sucked in breath.  They knew just how much that was hurting their sister.

“One,” spoke the paddler.  A second swat came immediately, although “swat” was too mild a term for the harsh impact of wood on bare flesh.  “Two.”

When the count reached five, the hanging girl was sobbing, tears racing down her cheeks to fall upon her breasts.  Normally the punishment would have stopped at that point.  Her bottom was a glowing red and burned like it was on fire.  But two more strokes had been added and she had no choice up to hang there and endure.

Six and seven were no lighter than the first five, even though the paddler’s arms were growing tired.  After the last, she put the paddle down and stood there, listening to the sobs almost as if she were listening to classical music.  The others in the room were silent also, listening to and feeling the girl’s suffering.  They had often been the ones hanging, forced to endure that or similar punishment.  And would undoubtedly do so again in the future.

Finally, the woman who had delivered all that pain stepped up to the hanging girl and reached up to squeeze her breasts gently.  She teased the rigid nipples lovingly. The other girls rose and came forward.  Their hands stroked the soft flesh with gently, loving caresses.  No part of her body escaped their attention.  Soon the moans of pain transformed into moans of pleasure as her body responded to this very different stimulation.  Two of her sisters took hold of her legs and spread them widely, while another placed a chair under her.  She sat on that chair so that her head would be just the right height to employ the arts of Lesbos on the sex made so available. The punished girl shivered all over and moaned louder.  The velvet touch of that tongue against her clit was like an electrical shock racing into her.  A good electric shock, to be sure.

It was not long before the girl was trembling all over and those holding her legs had difficulty keeping them apart.  The girl was trying to curl up into a ball, a natural reaction to an intense orgasm.

But even then the caresses did not stop.  Nor did the licking and sucking of her sex.  When the first girl tired, another took her place on the chair so that the tongue lashing would continue without diminishment.  The poor/lucky girl was driven helplessly into more orgasms.  Just as when she was hurting, these sisters had many times felt the same ecstasy she was feeling.  And they were happy for her.

The ordeal went on for quite a while until her body hung limp, too exhausted for another burst of pleasure.  They let her down and covered her with a blanket to allow her recover.

Just an ordinary evening at Sigma Epsilon Chi.

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