Ivy League at Any Cost Pt. 02

Another whack. Linda let out a groan. Vicki could hear her suck in labored breaths.

"Three," she said. There was an edge of emotion in her voice.

Linda gingerly stood up off of the desk, and faced the girls. Her eyes looked a little puffy and her face was red.

"Go put your clothes on," McKayla said. "And lose a pound. We'll be doing this all semester."

One by one they were called up. Each time another girl was called, it built more anticipation and dread for Vicki.

Most of the other girls were one pound over. Not all of them took their beating with as much dignity as Linda. Most girls were sobbing by the third swat.

Her roommate Janette, the svelte Minnesota blond, was two pounds under. They made her take off her panties as well, and forced her to eat a chocolate pie off of the ground like an animal. Vicki could see every inch of her naked body, dimples on her back, even her asshole between small cheeks. Vicki would rather take the beating.

A girl named Kelly was two pounds over. Six swats. By the third swat she was sobbing. After five she was shrieking after each strike, and wailing in between. It looked like Bill held back on the sixth swat, but even so one of the other girls escorted her to another room to regroup.

One by one the girls were measured, beaten, and allowed to dress until only Vicki remained. She was hyper aware of all the eyes on her body as she stepped on the scale.

"Your target is 116," McKayla said.

She watched in horror as the numbers turned. 118.

"Well that's too bad," McKayla said. She said it as though Vicki had died. "You can leave your underwear on honey. You're going to need all the padding you can get."

It was six swats. FUCK. That last girl had fallen apart after five. Vicki thought she could still hear the wailing. She looked at Bill. He was fuckable. In the right situation, she'd certainly give him a date. Nineteen other girls had just taken their beating. Was she really going to be the whore on her second week? FUCK.

"Give me the swats," she said. Vicki bent over the desk, her vision was a beige wall and a handful of guests in her periphery. Her breasts touched the wood as she leaned on her elbows. There was a hush of the people behind her, but the world turned into her breathing. She imagined how it would look, the cut of purple lace cupping her round cheeks and the flesh in between. Her heart was racing, but the world seemed to stop.

Her body registered what happened next in a rapid sequence. First, she was shoved forward into the desk, the pain on her hips digging into the desk registering a split second before the fire on her ass followed instantly by the THWAP sound ringing in her ears.

Her parents hadn't been afraid of corporal punishment, but even so the swing was much more forceful than she had expected. It hurt, but more than the physical pain, it brought up memories of shame and disappointment, bad choices and consequences.

"One," she said.

She braced her legs and ass, trying to avoid being shoved back into the desk a second time.

THWAP.

She held steady this time, but the pain was much worse. The stinging pain was more intense and didn't subside.

In addition to the the sting on her ass and the dull pain from the surrounding muscles, she felt a a different kind of ache. Her limited sexual experience hadn't strayed far from missionary with the occasional oral sex for her boyfriend. This ache was sexual, like after a long make out session, an ache she wanted to escalate but wasn't sure how.

"Two," she said.

She braced again for the incoming.

THWAP.

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. The smack on her ass ran through her in a wave of escalated pain, a sting into a burn into an ache. It took a moment to wash over her, but then she was lost in the pain, forgetting where she was and who she was.

She felt her breath catch, and she was back in her body, topless, bent over a desk, only her ass covered in thin panties, getting humiliated in public. She imagined how it would look.

"Three," she said. The ache was still there. Her ass was on fire. Vicki needed to do something, to slow it down, to think, regroup. She grasped for something, anything.

THWAP.

Her body shoved hard again into the desk again, her elbows slid out from under her, jarring her chest onto the desk.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

She lived in that agony, riding the crest that built but never seemed to subside. Her heart was pounding. This was impossible. How much worse would the next one hurt? She wasn't so sure she could survive the current level of pain. It was the afterburn of a super hot pepper and with no milk.

"Vicki?" McKayla prodded.

"Four," she said.

THWAP. Vicki screamed, the pain forcing it out of her. She didn't want to, didn't want to show any emotion at all, just wanted to bear it and move on.

"You can stop at any time," McKayla said. "All you have to do is suck Bill's cock. It's quite lovely, maybe a little big."

Vicki heard the words but focused on breathing. This wasn't so different than the last mile of a long jog. Breathe through it, and it would end. Eventually.

"If I had to guess," McKayla continued, "I'd say Bill is a little frustrated, swinging extra hard even. You see you're his very last chance to get off tonight. Any truth there?"

"Maybe," Bill said.

And a weird thought sneaked into Vicki's brain. As much as she wanted the pain to stop, she did NOT want to suck this stranger's cock in a crowded room.

But.

She had a flash of what it would look like, what it would feel like, for him to take her on the table, slide his cock right into her pussy, shove her against the table with the force of his hips and not the paddle. Was it as big as McKayla had threatened? Would it fill her up until she was screaming for a different reason?

She realized that he wouldn't have to force her, that she was actually wet for him already. Vicki wanted his cock to be jumbo sized, to feel it spread her open in front of all these witnesses.

THWAP, the paddle hit her again, shocking her out of the weird side fantasy.

Vicki screamed again, she couldn't even try to fight it this time. She couldn't cut it off, couldn't control it. She was sobbing from the pain, her body hunched over, trying to shrink away from the pain but with nowhere to go.

Vicki groaned through it, trying to get control of her emotion.

"Five," she croaked. More breathing. For a long while she sobbed against the desk. She sucked air through her nose, used her forearm to wipe away tears and snot, saw a streak of mascara on her arm. Vicki laughed, a desperate cackle, just imagining how she must look. Mascara running down her puffy face, bright red ass.

"Let me have a turn," Liz said. McKayla had been running the show all night. Vicki didn't know why Liz broke in now.

Behind her, the paddle touched her pussy. She froze. The rounded edge of it slid across her panties, starting on her clit, up around her inner lips, twisting the edge into her ever so slightly. A wave of pleasure blossomed over her body, running up and down her under her skin, not an orgasm but an intense wave of peace and calm.

Vicki pushed back against the paddle, ever so slightly, trying to press the edge into her, and for a split second there was even more delicious pressure against her.

But then the paddle slid up further, firmly pressing a rounded edge against her asshole. A rush of shame cut through whatever weird sexual experience Vicki was having. She was forced back into her body, acutely aware of the pain, the audience of eyes, the rounded wooden paddle fondling her asshole.

"It can all be over," McKayla said. "All you have to do is suck Bill's cock."

"We already know you are quite the cocksucker," Liz said.

Liz slid the paddle across each ass cheek, just the slightest bit of pressure was enough to aggravate the welts on her ass.

"No," Vicki said. Everything hurt, but she felt another sort of longing pain, wanting the paddle on her pussy again.

Liz seemed to read her mind, she stroked Vicki's pussy through her underwear, left to right, then up and down, each time digging the rounded corner harder against her underwear.

"You like that slut?" Liz asked. And she did. Vicki wanted it, needed that pressure against her. It took all of her willpower to remain stoic and passive.

"Please stop," she said. She wouldn't go down this path in front of strangers.

"Maybe you want Bill to fuck you instead?" Liz asked.

Vicki was terrified. She didn't know if Li was a mind reader or if this was just the normal hazing process. Nothing about this situation was normal. Would Liz make her fuck Bill in front of all these people? Could she say no?

Vicki promised herself she wouldn't give in to the wild pleasure each stroke of the paddle pulsed through her, or the longing for Bill's cock to impale her. If ordered, she would fuck him in front of these people, but they had to know it wasn't her choice. She had at least that much dignity left.

"No," Vicki said.

"So you want the paddle?" McKayla asked.

Vicki wanted to cry.

"Yes," Vicki said.

Liz took the final swing. She held nothing back, putting her whole body into the hit. It probably wasn't as forceful as Bill's swing, but it didn't need to be. Vicki's world went white with the pain. She was screaming, then wailing, then sobbing. Her exhausted body sagging onto the desk, unable to move, living in the pain.

The next moments were a haze. Janette helped her off the desk, helped her waddle back to her room, not bothering to dress first. Janette gave her a couple of Tylenol PM, then laid Vicki down on the bed on her stomach. Janette slowly slid Vicki's panties off, careful not to touch her sore ass.

Janette stuffed a pillow case with ice cubes and left it resting on Vicki's ass. The cool felt nice. As Vicki drifted off to sleep, she thought of Bill's giant cock. In her vision it was ten inches long and as wide as her fist, and each thrust of it hurt more than the paddle, each thrust would dwarf the paddle in pain and pleasure, and she was shrieking in pleasure like a whore, those people looking at her and judging her, mocking her inability to control her emotions.

Vicki wished Janette wasn't there, she wished so desperately to touch herself, to fill her pussy to crowd out the pain. But Janette was there. Vicki drifted off to sleep unsatisfied.