None of This is Real

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I know you are cumming on my face and in my mouth."

"Do you want my cum in your mouth now?"

"Ummmm...yes"

"Yes what?," the voice barked insistently.

"Yes sir, I want your cum in my mouth."

At this point, Cindy started to frantically think. The sound coming from the faceless man was furious. It sounded like what she imagined a guy masturbating would sound like. In actuality, she had never seen it happen before, nor had she ever tasted cum. In her mind, though, she knew the guys had to be doing a great acting job.

None of this is real, she told herself again. Her other girlfriends had all complained about the disgusting taste of semen. Their horror stories had inspired her to force her boyfriends to cum into tissues. This gooey stuff may not taste like honey, but it wasn't so bad either. It tasted like what she thought Will's description would taste like: some kind of salty health food stuff. And there was no way that the Kappa Delts would do this for real. No one would pledge and they'd be a campus laughingstock.

At that point, Cindy realized that without the advance knowledge from her sister, from Mindy, and from Will, she would have never made it through. She probably would have quit the moment she was told to strip. Now, though, she was only moments from passing the final test.

"Fuck you are a stupid cunt!," the voice exclaimed before filling Cindy's mouth with a massive load of the creamy paste. "I'm just glad you were smart enough to get into Armstrong. I might want you to swallow my nut again one day soon."

As the figure withdrew, the room erupted once more in cheers.

"Any double-dippers gotta do it now, quick," Will said.

Cindy sensed a mini-stampede towards her, that culminated in smaller, runnier batches of the goo coating her forehead, hairline, and mouth. By now, the blindfold had soaked in a good amount of the fluid and smelled a little.

"Cindy, we're going to take you over to a shower and wash you off, but first, we have our own pledge tradition to uphold. Sketch, help her up."

Cindy felt a pair of sweaty, masculine hands lift her from underneath her armpits. Once she steadied on her feet, she was led by the hand to another corner of the room.

"Step up a bit here," he instructed.

Cindy stepped over a plastic-feeling barrier. She was guided another few steps forward.

"OK, now Cindy, lean forward with your hands in front of you until you feel the wall. Good. Now keep both hands against the wall. In a minute, we're going to clean you up. First is our little Alpha Delta send-off. Every brother is going to give you one spank. Thank him for it, and let him know you enjoyed his cum today. Then you're all done and you've passed the final challenge."

Cindy braced her hands and stuck her sexy ass out to meet the guys' strokes.

"Oh, and guys: she's a delicate little flower. Do not, under any circumstances, actually injure her."

Cindy mentally prepared for the final part. A hand, swift, firm, and sudden, cracked across her ass, making a loud noise. She winced. It hurt, but it was clear he was holding back. She could stand the pain, momentary as it was.

"Thank you sir for your cum today. I loved it."

"Better than barbecue pork?"

"Yes sir," she said, choosing again to lie.

The next couple of guys took their swats, and Cindy dutifully expressed her gratitude for their sperm deposits.

"I'm still pissed you made me lose the bet," said a voice she now recognized. "Tell the truth—you do like the taste, right?"

This time, as prompted, she was honest.

"It's not my favorite thing in the world, but it's not so bad either. I could handle it."

"Yes you could. We didn't even plan to cum in your mouth until we saw you lick your lips. You must really love that shit."

She felt a swift slap to her now tender ass.

"I'm looking forward to watching you swallow a lot more of my cum."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you for my cum today," she replied.

Her ass was now red and pretty sore. It radiated heat, and the next guy rubbed his hand on it a bit before striking her ass cheeks hard with his right hand.

"Got it—perfect hand print."

"Thank you for the cum today, sir."

Cindy could tell the guy hadn't moved on.

"Hey, while I've got you hear, let me ask you one question. Now that you've got a few billion of our swimmers in your belly, think you'll start swallowing cum all the time?"

Cindy paused to consider her options. She decided a mix of honesty and diplomacy would be best.

"I'll definitely give it a try."

"Perfect," the guy responded. "'Cause I ain't cumming in a fucking tissue, and I know you'd look hot with my cock buried in that whore mouth of yours."

He seemed to walk away. After a few more slaps and a bit more banter from the guys, Cindy felt a stream of warm, refreshing water flow onto her head, rinsing her hair and face. From behind, hands held onto her blindfold; her own hands remained against the wall.

After a few minutes, the water stopped running and she was toweled off, though still unable to see. She stood there, still cold in the basement room, now damp as well. She heard the sound of heavy footsteps and a door closing. Finally, her blindfold was removed and she struggled to see for a moment in the temporarily overwhelming light.

"Well, you passed. We made it seem like the guys were doing one of those crazy bukkake things, but you totally didn't buy it! Here's the bowl of 'cum' now."

Cindy's eyes finally adjusted. Charlotte was holding a bowl of what looked like a runny version of the paste Cindy had used in grade school. It was just like Will said. She tried not to let on that she had known all along.

"Yeah, I knew how important it was to stick it out and never take off the blindfold," she said proudly.

"OK, well, I think that performance has to be good enough to get you in. But I need to talk to the rest of the girls in the back. See, we've got a two-way mirror and watched it all. It's funny to see them using squirt guns and making all kinds of crazy noises. You can wait upstairs, next to the other blind-folded girls. It'll be fun to watch them stew while you know what's going to happen."

Cindy was indeed looking forward to that experience. She hastened upstairs, while Charlotte entered the adjoining room, facing the basement.

There were no other sisters there. Instead, there stood only one man, and a young one at that. He looked at her with cruel dark eyes. She held her hand out.

"Money?"

The dark-haired man handed her an envelope of stacked bills.

"You actually going to let her in?"

"A slut like that? We have a reputation to uphold."

The tall, dark-haired man cocked his eyebrow.

"That's cold."

Charlotte wanted nothing more than for him to leave, so she could get back to the real rush.

"What do you care? To be honest, we did want her before this. Now, she would make us into a campus joke."

The man seemed to think a moment.

"No, I think you'll let her in. And the other one too. I think when I come over here to see the Kappa Delts, I'm going to want a good handful of Asian sluts to choose from."

Charlotte deeply resented his intrusion.

"Why would I listen to you? The bitch is out."

"You'll listen to me just because. That's what bitches like you do. I also want to change our arrangement just a bit."

"We had a deal," Charlotte argued. "You wanted the Korean girl to yourself, and I needed the cash. That's it."

The man smiled.

"Cocaine's a hell of a drug, huh Charlotte?"

Charlotte blanched at the mention of her habit, which she fastidiously hid behind her ice queen persona of perfection. The man continued.

"In that first deal, I tell the other girls what happened and they throw your ass out for pimping a pledge to score some coke money. In this deal, I keep a lid on our arrangement and you come down to the house next week. Now that the boys have had one bukkake, they're going to want another one."

Charlotte was mortified. Her father was a state senator. Her mother was a charity organizer. She wore pearls to class and always looked down on the sluts who populated the Armstrong campus. Then she looked at the money and into the man's evil eyes. Her own face bore the look of utter resignation.

"Wednesday, eight o'clock work?"