Baring All for Sorority InitiationbyScoob©
Chapter One - Indoctrination
When I first got to college, I was like many impressionable, young incoming freshman girls -- anxious about leaving high school behind and desirous of achieving popularity and status in college. My future was in my hands, I was repeatedly told. As it turns out, getting one's foot in the door often is a matter of how far one is willing to go to get what one wants. For me, it turned out, I was willing to go significantly further than I ever expected.
In high school, I ran with the in crowd. I was in scholastic honor societies. I sang in the choir. I was on the cheerleading drill team. I was an elected class officer. I was a couple of times in the running for homecoming queen, and so on.
College, I was told, was a whole new ballgame. One went from being a big fish in a small pond to being a small fish in a big pond. However, there was a shortcut to status and popularity in college. And it was the sorority system.
If you pledged and were accepted into a top sorority, life would be good. You would be invited to all the best parties. You immediately would have 70 best friends and roommates. You would have built-in study partners. You would have access to a vast alumni network once you left college for the working world. It all would be yours, I was promised. That is, if you make it through rush, the annual sorority rite of determining who to invite to join. This process is always at least a three part ordeal -- one part job interview, one part beauty contest and one part impress the older girls.
I arrived at college in late July six years ago to prepare to join the annual sorority rush. By talking with friends, family, counselors and others, I had narrowed my sorority choices down to three, with one as the clear favorite.
My base of operations was a nice, small hotel on the edge of the campus. From there I designed my grand rush strategy. I had a calendar tacked to the bathroom door with all the key parties, events and gatherings clearly marked. My closet was full of my nicest clothes. My bathroom looked like a makeup counter at Neiman Marcus. I was ready to march into battle.
The first week of rush was filled with seemingly endless and back-to-back "meet-and-greets," where prospective members or rushees would visit their target sororities and introduce themselves to rush committee members. These gatherings were the job interview portion of the ordeal. Focusing on my three target houses, I was firing on all cylinders. I did a great job at each interview, especially at my first choice house. As a result, I was invited back to evening parties at all three houses. Hurdle one, cleared.
The parties were the beauty contest portion of the ordeals. The purpose and format was the same at all three houses: dress up in your nicest formal wear; parade in front of current members; mix and mingle; go home and wait by the phone. I did fairly well at this section too. I was called back to two houses, including my favorite and was formally invited to join each sorority.
I quickly accepted the offer from my favorite and target house, which I don't want to fully name. I'll just call it Delta.
Two nights after getting the invitation to join, I was at the Delta house, again dressed to the nines, eating finger food, sipping soda and getting the low-down on the initiation process, as they called it. In hindsight, I would call it hazing. Hazing is a set of initiation rites and can range from being forced to drink excessive amounts of alcohol to being kept awake for days on end while having to do menial chores around the sorority house. Hazing today is officially illegal. Six years ago, hazing didn't have nearly the stigma it has today.
At the initiation party, I was assigned a Big Sister. Her name was Bethany. She would be a senior for the upcoming school year. She had been in the house since her freshman year. She was tall and very attractive, in a stereotypical sorority way. She was thin with long, straight amber-colored hair, long legs and what I would call generous breasts.
I don't think I was randomly assigned to Bethany. I think she sought me out. She said I reminded her of herself when she was a freshman. Bethany and I could easily be mistaken for sisters. I too am tall (5-10''), have long, straight amber-colored hair and long legs. I don't, however, fill out a sports bra quite as well as Bethany. My breasts are good-sized, but not as full as Bethany's. In other words, I get a nice bounce going if I run without a bra, but not so much as to make running wholly uncomfortable.
Each of us pledges was told our Big Sister would be our guide for the week-long initiation. Each of our initiations, it was explained, would be unique. The process would be tailored to each person based on an in-depth, intimate conversation that was to take place that night with our Big Sister. The contents of these conversations would remain confidential. No one besides our Big Sister would learn of what we talked about. Disclosure of pledge conversations was a strict no-no at Delta. If one was to divulge secrets from the conversation, that person would immediately be barred from the house, for life. They took this seriously.
That night, Bethany took me out to a nice local restaurant where we had an excellent meal and quickly plowed our way through two bottles of wine. Throughout the meal, we discussed everything, like we had been friends for years. We discussed intimate details of our sexual histories -- what we had done, what we hadn't, what we wouldn't. We talked about our bodies -- what we liked, what we didn't. We discussed five Fs -- family, friends, feelings futures and fun. I really felt like we got on great.
The one thing that surprised me most about Bethany, and intrigued me at the same time, was her professed enjoyment of exhibitionism. She said she loved her body and how good it looked and like to show it off to men and women. She talked about flashing her breasts and pubic area in public, wearing sexy, revealing clothes, stripping naked in the great outdoors, etc... I even thought she was getting turned on telling me about it.
By the time we finished our meal, I was pretty tipsy and excited for the beginning of my initiation, which Bethany said would begin the next day. As we walked out of the restaurant, I started thinking about a story Bethany told me about sunbathing on a hotel room deck that adjoined another room's deck while wearing only a g-string bottom. She did this, she said, because she thought the businessman staying next door was cute and she wanted to torture him by using a bit of controlled exhibitionism. She described how she would make enough noise while on the deck to lure him out to see what the noise was about. She said she would catch him trying to slyly catch glimpses of her nearly naked body laying just feet from his sliding hotel room door. She said this was just one of a series of purposeful "showing off incidents," as she called them, that she does from time to time.
What she said after this got me a bit concerned. She said, "It's really a turn-on to do things you never thought you would, or could. You'll see."
Before I could ask what that meant, she was leading me out the door and driving me back to my hotel jabbering about how great it will be once I cleared the initiation process.
To prepare for tomorrow, the beginning of my initiation, she said she had one request. "Before I pick you up tomorrow, I want you to shave off all, and I mean all, your pubic hair."
I looked at her with my head cocked and incredulously asked why. After all, what did a sorority initiation have to do with shaving my pubic hair, I wondered. I thought hazing involved beer, sleep deprivation and doing Big Sisters' dirty work. She had other ideas. Bethany looked at me with a bit of fire in her eyes and said, "Kate, don't ask those kind of questions. For this one week you are to do what I say. You have to trust me. Just do it."
After assuring her I understood her request and would be ready when she picked me up the next morning, she dropped me off in front of my hotel, bade me good night and drove off.
With my mind now swimming with thoughts of Bethany's exhibitionism fetish, I decided to try a little "showing off" myself. I quickly turned around and walked back out of the hotel into the parking lot. I found a quiet, dark row of cars and stepped between a couple of SUVs.
There, I folded under the hem of the black evening dress I was wearing so that the little black dress looked even littler. As a result of my temporary parking lot tailoring, the dress now was significantly shorter. The tops of my thigh-high stockings would show with virtually every step. I then reached around and unhooked my strapless bra, slipped it off and tucked it in my purse and unbuttoned the top two buttons on my dress. Because of the design of the dress, you couldn't see much of my breasts, but just being braless in that now hyper-short dress turned me on. I looked down at my short skirt, noted the seemingly vast distance from the skirt hem to the soles of my shoes and strode confidently, or at least as confidently as one can on high heels after consuming a bottle of red wine, toward the lobby.
The first person I saw was the 30-something guy standing behind the check-in counter. He was staring at me, watching every move. I walked quickly by him toward the elevators. I could feel my breasts moving freely inside my loose dress. Just as I passed him, I reached back and scratched a non-existent itch on my right butt check, lifting my skirt to get to the right spot. As a result the desk guy was treated to a brief, but clear view of my stocking tops and most of my right ass cheek. I had on a pair of black thong panties, to go with my evening attire. (I've been a fan of thong or g-string underwear and other nice pieces of intimate wear since I was a junior in high school. A good friend worked at Victoria's Secret at a local mall and got me hooked via her discount.)
By the time I got to the elevator, I was breathing heavy with excitement and was incredibly turned on. I had never done anything like that before. I know guys find me attractive, and I have used that to my advantage many times. However, I have never done anything so provocative, or so random, before. As the elevator made its way up to the seventh floor, I reached up under my skirt and pulled down my panties and stepped out of them. I tucked them in my purse with my bra just as the elevator doors opened on my floor.
I glanced both ways down the hall before I stepped out, feeling both relieved and disappointed no one was in the hall. As I walked down the long, deserted hallway, I reached under my skirt and cupped my panty-less crotch and ran a finger up and down my very wet slit. I felt happily wicked.
Once inside my room, I quickly stripped off my party dress, jumped into the shower intending to quickly rinse off before getting into bed. However, I was still turned on from my exhibitionism-lite episode. I decided I would follow Bethany's orders and shave my pussy that night.
With shaving cream and a fresh razor in hand, I prepared to shave myself smooth. I lathered up my pubic hair, which, thankfully, already was trimmed short, and began carefully removing all the hair down there. I began with the thicker hair above my slit, removing more and more hair with each swipe of the razor. After my familiar triangle of hair was no longer, I turned my attention to the more tricky areas -- around my pussy lips and anus. Using my non-razor hand to simultaneously hold skin flat and feel around for stray hairs, I managed to shave myself completely clean from my belly button to the top of my ass crack. Every nook and cranny was now totally hair-free.
With my task complete, I got out of the shower, dried off and stood nude in front of a full length mirror just outside the bathroom door and gazed at my bald pussy. I reached down and ran my hand over the newly shaved areas. As I reached between my legs to caress my smooth peritoneum I ran a finger between my exposed pussy lips. I was so wet! Shaving had really turned me on. What's more, I really liked the look of being hairless. My pussy lips were clearly visible. My clit was just peaking out.
Still feeling the residual effects of the bottle of wine, I walked to my window and threw open the curtains. I doubted anyone would be looking out their window at that time of night, but the thought of someone seeing my nude, totally shaven body still sent a thrilling erotic shudder through my body. With the shades open and a bed-side lamp on, I pushed one of the full-sized beds near the window, just in case someone happened to be watching, and laid down naked and proceeded to masturbate to orgasm, my mind filled with images of laying nearly nude on a hotel deck as a businessman looked on.
Chapter Two - Initiation Week Begins - Day One
I awoke the next morning, with a bit of a headache, but excited at beginning my initiation with Bethany. She called me about 9 a.m. and told me to be ready at 10 a.m. She would pick me up in front of my hotel. Her only other direction besides shaving was to dress casually.
Once Bethany arrived and we got underway, she laid out the initiation week's theme and roster of events. She reminded me that failure to participate to her satisfaction in the week-long initiation would result in my being denied membership in the Delta sorority. Here she had me a bit over a barrel since she knew I was not pursuing membership in any other house. It was to be Delta or nothing.
She explained that based on our intimate conversation at the restaurant, she had decided to indoctrinate me into the world of flashing, exhibitionism and showing off. She promised she would do nothing to put me in perilous danger, either by putting us in uncontrolled situations where someone might harm us or in a position likely to get us in trouble with the police.
She asked if I was willing to trust her and willing to do what she asked in order to make it through the initiation. She emphasized that our week's adventures would be known only the two of us. No one else would be told of the initiation's content.
Bethany seemed so calm, confident and self-assured, I enthusiastically agreed to follow her lead, not knowing or really understanding where it might take us.
With an agreement reached, she pulled a bag from her back seat and told me to change into the clothes inside the bag. As I opened the bag, I asked, "Where are we going to stop so I can change?" Bethany laughed and said, "Ahhh, you have so much to learn. Change right here in the car."
We were in pretty heavy traffic, but since we were in an SUV, I figured no one, other than Bethany, would see much any way. I reached into the bag and pulled out the two items of clothing she had for me. Inside were a tiny pair of silver spandex hotpants and a light white button-up shirt.
Wanting to start off on a good foot, but a bit anxious about the outfit Bethany had picked out for me, I quickly slipped off my shorts and started to pull on the hotpants. "Hold on," Bethany said. "No panties." "Why not, they are thong panties, it won't look bad," I replied. Bethany just looked at me like a parent looks at a questioning child. Realizing I had better stay on her good side, I slipped my panties off and started to pull on the hotpants.
As I was getting the hotpants over my shoes, Bethany stopped at a stoplight. I looked nervously around, but no one in a vehicle higher than ours was nearby. I glanced over at Bethany who I noted was looking at my crotch. "Ah, good, you shaved. That looks good," she said with a smile. "Showing off is better with no hair down there, if you know what I mean." I knew what she meant, at least I figured I did.
Meanwhile, I got the hotpants on over my shoes and was pulling them up over my thighs realizing they were even smaller on than I imagined they would be when I pulled them out of the bag. They were skin tight and barely covered my ass. What's more, they were designed to be low riders -- you know, ride low on your hips. These, however, rode really low. In back, the waistband curved to just above my butt crack. In front, they were designed with a pronounced, but shallow, V cut. The point of the V dipped so low that had I not shaved, my pubic hair would have shown.
As I looked down at my new shorts, I noted that one could see the outline of my shaved pussy lips. I tugged down on the legs of the hotpants to remedy this potentially embarrassing situation. I then turned my attention to the shirt. I quickly pulled off my t-shirt and began fumbling with the light white button-up shirt Bethany had provided. I slipped in one arm, then the other and was about to button the shirt up when Bethany said, "Hold it, let me see them." I knew immediately she meant my breasts, so I turned toward her, opened the shirt and did my best impression of a flasher. I noticed my nipples were hard and I was feeling a bit flushed with excitement. With my breasts exposed to the world, I waited for her to say something. After what seemed like an eternity, she said, "Very nice. Thanks."
I returned to buttoning up the shirt, feeling a bit excited by the movement of the shirt's material against my erect nipples. The shirt, as I noted, was very light. It wasn't sheer, but it was a very thin cottony material. When I held the shirt down tight against my breasts, you could just make out a dark area where the shirt tried to hide my nipples.
Fortunately, I realized, the shirt would hang low enough to conceal at least part of my hotpants-clad derriere. Now for more immediate concerns...where were Bethany and I headed, I wondered.
We rode in silence for a while, which was fine because I constantly was focused on tugging the hotpants down because they kept slipping into my ass crack. At last, Bethany spoke as she got the SUV up to highway speed. "We're headed to the downtown area of a nearby major city for lunch. You hungry?"
Surprisingly, I was hungry. However, the thought of walking around in my present outfit didn't do much other than make me queasy.
After about 40 minutes of driving, Bethany pulled into a parking garage amongst the tall buildings of downtown. "We're going to eat on the 7th Street Mall," she said. Once we parked, Bethany quickly got out of the truck and waited for me to join her. I opened my door and got out. As soon as my sandal-clad feet hit the ground, I fully realized how exposed I was. The two-foot drop out of the SUV caused my breasts to bounce beneath the thin button-up shirt and the silver hotpants once again slid up between my ass cheeks.
"I can't walk around in public like this," I said in the direction of Bethany. "Sure you can," Bethany replied. "It's 95 degrees. People always dress in less this time of year."
I sheepishly walked around to the back of the truck and joined Bethany. I noticed then, for the first time, that she also was wearing a rather lurid, sexy outfit. She had on a skin-tight, nearly sheer, pink top made of some sort of stretchy material. Her ample breasts straining against the fabric would, I had little doubt, draw a fair amount of attention. Her top was complemented by a rather short white cotton mini-skirt.
My eyes must have betrayed the sheer terror I was feeling inside. "Don't worry, this will be exciting. See, look, I'm not wearing panties either." As she said that, she reached down, without even looking around and hoisted up her skirt to flash me her bare pussy. She too, as I expected, had no pubic hair.
Feeling a bit reassured by her boldness, as well as her choice of attire, we turned and made our way to the busy 7th Street mall, an old street that now was restricted to pedestrians only. Restaurants and retail stores lined either side of the street. We strolled down the sidewalk, surrounded by 9-5ers going about their lunchtime routines. I caught a large number of people, both men and women, leering at us as they walked by. After about a block, Bethany said, "See this isn't so bad."