Sentenced to Glory Ch. 01-02

Author's Note:

Hey, everyone! I'd like to introduce you to my newly published sexploitation erotica novel titled Sentenced to Glory, a book I've been working all year in-between all the Amazonian Uteroboscis & The Yoni Flower stories—a book that I've been super excited to share with you all! In short, this story of reluctance follows 18-year-old Taylor Lawrence (a virgin who grew up shy and sheltered in a small town) as she rushes a debaucherous sorority that makes their pledges do naughty and risky initiation challenges in order for them to become a part of their sisterhood. One of those initiation challenges gets sweet ol' Taylor into BIG ol' trouble with the owner of an adult sex shop—the kind of trouble that could mean expulsion from college and serious jail time. Unfortunately for her, the only way the owner will absolve of her crimes is if Taylor serves a 3-day sentence in his shop's gloryhole booth...

Will she blow her way to freedom? Will she be forced to trade her virginity to clear her name? Read on to find out how far our innocent, naïve virgin will go to save her future!

Chapter 1 is essentially an intro to the story and the characters as they compete in an initiation challenge, but if all you're looking for is naughty stuff, there's some light bondage, submission, and exhibition in chapter 2 with a little surprise for our innocent main character. After that, this 15-chapter book jumps into X-rated territory rather quickly.

Per usual, I'll be doing weekly releases, so please check out either my bio or the comments for updates! Now, enjoy the read!

Chapter 1 :

Pledging Sigma Lambda Tau ( ΣΛΤ ): A.K.A. The Slut House

Taylor Lawrence | 18

Thursday, Sept 22 ^nd

Blurs of red paintballs zip past me before splattering the trees ahead with splotches resembling exploded candied cherries. Beads of sweat roll down my back and face during my sprint away from the opposing team, and I'm perspiring so much that my paintball mask's visor is fogging up. The air breezing across my body is so hot and humid that the sweat is doing nothing to cool me down. One would think that running through the woods in nothing more than lingerie would keep a person from overheating like this, but here I am all drenched like I'm doing a marathon dressed in a garbage bag. That's Florida heat for ya.

Somehow, I make it behind cover without getting tagged.

"AHH! Shit! Ah! Ow!" a girl screams from my right, raising her hands in surrender just as I'm peeking out to see who was just eliminated. "I'm hit! I'm hit!" The moment Faith Hanson spins around to face the Rho Epsilon Delta girls and the sorority sisters who are refereeing this game, I see a glob of red paint right above her panty line, another in the dead center of her bra hook, a third at the end of her mahogany ponytail, and one more in the middle of her left ass cheek.

She, like the rest of us pledges from the Sigma Lambda Tau sorority, is wearing nothing more than a black and light pink paintball mask, powder pink lingerie, and matching sneakers—the official uniform of the Pink Sluts. As for the Rho-Hoes that I'm peeking at from behind cover, they're in red lingerie with matching masks and shoes—because their anglicized Greek letters (ΡΕΔ) spell R.E.D., obviously making that their chapter's color by default. Out toward the edge of the woods are also Big sisters from both sororities wearing neon orange tops with jean shorts, and safety glasses instead of paintball masks. Any girl dressed like a skanky traffic cone is either in charge of refereeing or using their phone to live stream the game to the rest of our sisters and the two frats who do mixers with us.

Even though the sisters of Sig-Lam-Tau and Rho Epsilon swear that this annual Sluts versus Rho-Hoes Lingerie paintball game is nothing more than a teambuilding exercise for pledges that's designed to help girls feel comfortable in their skin, nothing screams hazing like making half-naked girls shoot each other with painful paint-filled balls while drunk frat guys secretly stream the event in their living rooms. As with everything we've done during our scandalous initiation, this event is a secret tradition, one held between the Sigma and Rho sororities since the early 2000s. The only fraternities who know about it are Epsilon Pi Kappa (EΠK), commonly known as EPIK House, and Delta Epsilon Kappa (ΔEK), AKA The DEKEs—the two frats rumored to have the craziest hazing rituals at FSU.

"How many do you see, Taylor?" Olivia Hartman, my gorgeous roommate and bestie, asks from over by the tree that's a few yards to my right.

"I only see two," I whisper breathlessly while slinking back behind cover. Before the paintballs start flying again, I lift my mask and wipe as much sweat off my face as I can.

"I'm pretty sure they're the last two," CeCe Cohan says from my left, brushing her jet-black hair out of her sweaty face. She's my second favorite person in our sorority. I didn't meet her at the sorority though, she lives on the same floor of Magnolia Hall as me and Olivia, and we met her and her roommate—CeCe's childhood best friend named Monica 'Momo' Morello—at the dorm social on move-in weekend.

Olivia lets out a long, dramatic huff. "Listen, I feel like I'm about to black out from heatstroke, and I'd rather get shot in both tits than keep playing anymore, so how about I just run out there and light them up while you two rush them from the left and paint those red hoes pink from head to toe?" she says in that Georgian accent of hers.

"If you don't mind getting bombarded and bruised, I'm okay with that," I whisper, holding up my paintball gun.

"Nothing spells sisterhood like sacrifice," CeCe says with a nod. "I'm ready when you are."

I peek around the trunk of my tree. "The two Rho girls are trying to flank around from the left," I say quietly.

"Okay, let's end these hoes on three," Olivia says. "One... Two... Three!" As that word leaves her mouth, she sprints at them screaming, "AAAAAH" while spraying a hail of pink paintballs at the trees the Rho-Hoes are hiding behind.

The moment those red lingerie-wearing skanks peek out and open fire, CeCe leans out behind cover and starts shooting while I dash out from the left in a wide arc. Pink goo splatters the tree ahead twice before CeCe's paintballs tag one of the Rho girls right in the visor.

"Fuck! I'm hit!" the tall girl shouts, raising her hands.

As the remaining Rho turns and aims at me, I open fire, tagging her in the left arm, left boob, and belly before I finally let my finger off the trigger.

"Ow! Fuck! Ah! I'm hit!" my target screeches, raising her hands in surrender. "You only had to shoot me once, bitch! How'd you like it if I shot you three times from this close?" The hand holding her paintball gun starts coming down like she's about to light me up.

That's when a high-pitch whistle blares from the right. "Alrighty, that's game girls!" Victoria, the Rho Epsilon Delta president and game ref, hollers as she steps into the open. She glares at the girl who's aiming at me. "Shoot her after the whistle and your days in Rho are over, Jenna."

Jenna lowers the gun while pulling off her mask. "Bitch," she mutters, storming off toward the other Rho refs who are coming out of the woods to the left.

I give her the finger while removing my paintball mask, then I turn to the smiling Olivia who somehow didn't get shot once despite running right at those bitches.

Leaves crunch and branches snap as Cindy Prescott emerges from the woods ahead. "Good job, Sigmas!" the gorgeous, blonde-haired, blue-eyed president of our sorority says. Though my eyes are a bit bigger, they're the same shade of topaz as hers, and our hair is a similar golden color and length. Hell, we even have the same petite body type, and her tits are just as tiny as mine. The biggest difference between us is that I have a baby face and she actually looks like she belongs in college. Sometimes I think that the only reason she gave my innocent-ass a bid for the sorority is because she and I can legit pass for sisters. Or clones. "That's the kind of teamwork, initiative, and bravery that our sorority prides itself on!" Smirking, she turns to the rival sorority president. "Looks like Victoria failed to be victorious yet again..."

"Wow, Cindy... Such impressive wordplay from a very talented English major... Has anyone ever told you that you're just so clever?" Victoria fires back with heavy sarcasm while giving her a dramatic slow clap.

Our president taps her finger against her lips. "Damn, how many lingerie paintball game wins in a row does Sig-Lam have now, Vicky? Three, right?"

Victoria scoffs with a roll of her eyes.

"It's definitely three in a row," my Big, Stella Bennet, says as she steps into the clearing with the other two refs from our sorority at her heels. "Great job out there, Taylor," she whispers to me, patting me on the back while handing me a bottle of water.

Victoria snorts. "Just wait until the Greek Ho-lympics and the beer Olympics next semester. We'll take gold in every event for the fourth year in a row. You know, because, unlike Slut House, we like to win when it counts instead of caring too much about a pledge teambuilding exercise..."

Cindy snickers, turning to us. "Pledges, why don't you head on back to the parking lot while the sisters of Sig-Lam and Rho have a friendly chat?"

"Same goes to you, neo-Rhos," Victoria says to her girls.

The annoyed-looking Rho pledges turn and start towards the western parking lot without a word.

I squint at my Big as if to ask, 'Are y'all about to fight?'

Smiling, Stella shakes her head and shoos me off.

Nodding, I turn and jog toward the east to catch up to Liv and CeCe.

"Woo!" Olivia cheers, raising her hand to high-five me, her big blue eyes wide with excitement. "Sigma Lambda Tau!"

"Sigma Lambda Tau!" I chant back, slapping her hand.

"S-L-T!" Olivia calls out.

"Sluts! Sluts! Sluts!" the three of us chant as we hike through the woods. As soon as the mantra ends, we erupt into a fit of laughter the way we always do after reciting the unofficial sorority cheer—the cheer we must keep secret from the panhellenic council.

Before I started here at FSU, I'd never run around proudly calling myself a slut the way I have been these last four weeks. Had I done that in the small, religious North Carolinian town that I grew up in, my super conservative parents would've surely shipped me off to some Christian brainwashing retreat before everyone in town had a chance to shame us out of the damn state. Had Ma and Pa ever caught wind that I was calling myself such a thing, they may have still let me come here for college, but they wouldn't have sent me money for anything that my full-ride scholarship didn't cover. Not that I would've ever called myself a slut back in high school. Heck, I'm not a slut now. Even after being away at college for a month, I'm still as far from being a slut as a girl could possibly be. Like, I'm still so innocent from growing up sheltered that it legit makes me uncomfortable identifying with such a derogatory term, so much so that uttering "slut" legit gives me anxiety...

Unfortunately, everyone at Florida State University calls the sisters of our sorority SLUTs for the same reasons they call the sisters of Rho Epsilon Rho-Hoes. From what I was told by Stella, the freshmen from both sororities who started here in 2008 earned a reputation for sleeping their way through frat row. It probably didn't take long for some frat-bro to be, like, 'Hmm, Rho rhymes with ho, so we should call those skanks Rho-Hoes!' Then I'm sure another fuck-boy from the same frat said, 'Hey, SLT is one letter shy of the word slut, so we should call them SLUT House!'

From our sorority orientation, we learned that every year since 2008, Sigma Lambda Tau and Rho Epsilon Delta have become more and more notorious for being the wildest, most promiscuous sororities on campus, basically adopting the rumor and promoting it sorority-wide like a religion instead of distancing themselves from the stigma. While other sororities pride themselves on being prim and proper, Sig-Lam and Rho-Hoes have become rebel factions who believe that dressing skimpily and being sexually liberal are the only ways for women to thwart societal norms—becoming advocates for bodily freedom who organize free-the-nipple events and campus-wide nudie runs on the last day of finals. And because 'Frequent Sex, Safe Sex' is one of our mottos, members of Sig-Lam-Tau must take weekly STD tests. Supposedly, that's the case for the girls of Rho Epsilon too.

It's for all those reasons that I—a sheltered, painfully shy girl who's never even kissed a boy—only rushed Sig-Lam-Tau and Rho Epsilon after learning of their reputations from my roommate Olivia. I knew in my heart that one of these two sororities would help me to come out of my shell, gain confidence, and become a woman who lives life doing whatever way makes her happy without fear of being judged. After all, I firmly believe that growth only happens outside your comfort zone, which is why I only applied to party schools far away from home. For all those reasons, I accepted the Sigma Lambda Tau bid the second Cindy Prescott contacted me.

"Ummm," CeCe hums as the parking lot comes into view through the trees ahead, "where are Faith and the rest of the girls?"

"And where's the bus?" I ask, looking around for the 50-passenger rental vehicle we all rode in on. That's when I spot this sketchy white van at the far end of the lot—a van that starts driving towards us right when we emerge from the woods.

Suddenly, there's a distinct puff of a paintball gun from our right, and the dirt before us kicks up as red paint explodes against the ground and splatters my shins. My head snaps to the direction of the shot while I instinctually raise my paintball gun to the high-ready position, then my eyes widen at the sight of three mask-wearing girls in red tank tops embroidered with ΡΕΔ rushing towards us.

"Guns on the floor, Sluts!" the lead girl screams right as we're raising our weapons.

"The game's over!" I shout. "We won! You can't do this!"

The breaks of the van rushing towards us squeal as the vehicle pulls up along the dirt. When it stops, the door slides open and two more red-clad Rho Epsilons jump out with black cloths in hand.

"Good thing we're not playing paintball anymore," another girl's muffled voice says from behind me, prompting me to spin around and aim at the five Rho-Hoes stalking towards us. "This is just us kidnapping Sig-Lam Sluts the way we do every year after the game!"

"All the other Sluts were captured right after they were eliminated, which means no one's coming to save you," the lead girl from before says, aiming the barrel of her gun at my belly, "So, unless you want to find out how much it hurts to be shot from point-blank range, I suggest you all drop your guns now..."

I turn to Oliva. She just shakes her head, sighs, and sets down her paintball gun. CeCe does the same thing, so I do too.

"Smart decision, Sluts," the girl standing in front of us says. "Now, hands behind your backs!"

The instant I cross my wrists behind the small of my back, a black cloth covers my eyes and then gets tied tightly behind my head. A moment later, my wrists get bound together by zip-ties, and then I'm shoved forward.

THUNK!

"Ow!" I cry out when my shins bump into the side of the van. As I'm lifting my leg to feel for where to step, two hands slip under my arms then I'm pulled up into the van.

"Hey!" Olivia screams behind me.

"Liv? Taylor? CeCe? Is that you?" a familiar, panicked voice says from across from me.

"Faith?" CeCe calls out to her best friend in the sorority—the girl she's been ditching her childhood best friend for ever since rush week. "Is that you?"

"Yeah!" she replies. "These bitches grabbed me on the walk back!"

"No talking!" another girl screams. "Or else!"

"You can't actually hurt us," Faith sasses.

"Yeah," I say. "We swore we'd never report anything that happens during Sig-Lam initiation, but that doesn't mean we won't report you Rho-Hoes for torturing us!"

PEWF is all I hear when someone fires a paintball.

"AHH!" Faith scries out immediately after.

PEWF!

Pain flares in my left arm a split second later. "AH-HA-OW-CH!" I mewl as I'm forced to sit on the floor of the van.

"No. Talking." Our captor snarls. "And, FYI, when or if we let you go, you're not going to say shit. Because, if you do, we'll tell Cindy and the sisters of Slut House that you spilled all your secrets, then they'll release those nudes they made you take while you were blacked out the other night."

"Nudes?" Olivia says. "What nudes?"

PEWF!

"AH! Ouch!" my bestie cries after getting shot.

A beat later, the door slams shut. Then the van lurches forward and I fall over.

"Whoopsie! I guess they didn't tell you yet," the lead girl from earlier says. "To make sure Sig-Lam pledges don't spill sorority initiation rituals, they get you blackout drunk, make you spill all your deepest and darkest secrets on camera, and they make you take a bunch of nude selfies on your Big's phones. Then, when hazing gets really crazy and they feel like you might snitch, they threaten to release those secrets and nudes to make you comply and keep you quiet. I know this because I used to be Sig-Lam..."

Oh crap... They did get us all blackout drunk a few weeks ago, so I guess that's possible... Just when I was starting to think hazing wasn't that bad...

Σ Λ Τ

Unlike the last few times the van halted, the engine gets cut off during this stop. A second later, the van's slide door rolls open.

"Alright, Sluts!" one of our captors says. "Stand up, step down out of the van nice and easy when we tell you to, and don't make a peep unless we ask you a question!"

Trying to stand up with my hands behind my back is a struggle.

"God, you're pathetic, blondie!" one of the Rho girls says while cupping me under my armpit and lifting me up.

The black cloth is still covering my eyes so, to keep myself from falling out of the van, I shuffle my feet until I feel the lump of the edge beneath the middle of my sneaker. At that moment, the girl gripping my arm pulls me back gently.

"Alright, blondie," she says to me, "step down nice and slow."

There's something terrifying about stepping over an edge while blindfolded. Like, I obviously know that they didn't park alongside a cliff because this is Florida and there are no cliffs, but I can't help feeling like there's an endless abyss beneath my feet.

"You're like an inch away, Slut! Just fucking put your foot down!" my captor snaps.

Trembling, I angle my toes down until they poke concrete, then I plant my foot before stepping down with the other.

"Sheesh... Finally..." she says. "Now walk." She shoves me.

The hot sun beats down on all my exposed flesh as I shuffle towards wherever I'm being led. In the distance, there's rap music and guys laughing from somewhere closer than where the music is coming from. If I had to guess, I assume we're being led to the Rho Epsilon house and not toward some lake filled with gators.

"FWEE-FWOOO!" someone whistles from up ahead.

"I thought the undie run wasn't until the end of the semester!" a guy from the direction of the whistle says.