Fraternity Slave
by Bridget

Part One

Being eighteen and at college for the first time was heaven.  I was out of the house, on my own (if you can say living in a dorm with 200 other girls is on your own), and looking forward to the next four years of college.  I was pledged to the same sorority that my mother belonged to when she was in college and that is how my life changed so dramatically.

The chapter president explained it very well the first night we pledged.  “We don’t have you go through the usual rigmarole that most fraternities and sororities use.  As you probably know, new pledges have seven weeks of hassle and goofy stuff to go through and then comes ‘hell week’.  We think getting off to a good start in your classes is important, so for the next four weeks, that is all you need to worry about.  The second half of the pledge period will be your initiation, and we use that time to kill two birds with one stone.  Being a member of Beta Delta means more than just having parties, it also involves fund-raising for charities.  We get a quota every year from our national organization.  Three-quarters of the money we raise toward our quota stays here for local charities and the other quarter goes to the national headquarters for national charities.

“We have developed a unique system that relieves us of fund-raising throughout the year and tests you for membership at the same time.  I don’t want to go into a lot of detail right now, because then you will just worry about it and you need to concentrate on getting a good start with school.  Meet back here at the house four weeks from tonight at 7:00 p.m. and I will explain what you are to do then.

“But I will say this.  There are twelve of you and only two or three of you will be chosen for the initiation, so your odds of being affected by this are only one in six or one in four.”

She dismissed us and we left the sorority house wondering to each other what in the world we would have to do.

The next four weeks flew by and I hardly gave a thought to what might be involved in the initiation.  On the appointed night, the twelve of us pledged to Beta Delta were seated in the living room again listening to the chapter president.

“We have been using this method for the last ten years and it has worked quite well.  In fact, in my pledge class, I was one of the ones selected to go through the initiation and, while it is not an experience I care to repeat, it taught me discipline and that I can overcome any obstacle to achieve a goal.  Joining Beta Delta was really important to me because both my mother and grandmother were members.

“Some of you will decide not to take the chance that you will be selected for the initiation and that is fine, you will be able to leave here right after I explain what you may have to do.  I will remind you that it is too late to pledge to another sorority and that most houses only pledge freshmen, not sophomores, so by declining, you will not have the benefit of sorority membership during your time on campus.

“In a little more than an hour from now, we are going to auction two of you off as slaves to two fraternity houses.  Representatives of the houses will be here and you will be on display for them.  They will record their bids on the chalk board you see set up in the corner.  At the end of the bidding, the girl with the highest bid will belong to that fraternity for a month.  Among the rest, the girl with the highest bid from another fraternity will belong to that fraternity for a month.  If the bids from the first two cover our quota for fund-raising, that will be the end of it.  If not, the third girl with the highest remaining bid will be sold to the fraternity for a month.

“You will stay in their houses except when you are at class.  They will put you to work in any way they see fit except for the following restrictions, which all of the houses have agreed to.  First, they may not mark you or cause you harm in any way that is permanent.  Second, they have to give you time off to attend class and two hours per day to study.

“What you do, what you wear, how you act, all of that and anything else that has to do with you is up to them for the month.  You may leave the house at any time, and they know that you can, but you will not have completed your initiation and will not join this sorority if you do.  In the ten years we have been doing this, all but one has completed the month successfully, so it really isn’t that hard if you really want this.

“Do any of you have any questions?”

One of the other girls, who I didn’t really know well, asked the obvious question.  “Will we have to have sex with them?”

“That is not one of the restrictions we have agreed to,” was all she said.

“I am still a virgin and I am not ashamed to admit it.  I want my first sexual experience to be with the man I will marry.  I can’t do this.”

“Very well,” answered the president, “you may leave.  However, I trust you will be bound by the secrecy agreement you signed when you pledged to us.”

“I wouldn’t tell the devil about this, I would be too ashamed.”  And then, turning to the rest of us, she said, “And I won’t feel guilty about anything that happens to any of you if you are stupid enough to get involved in this.”

She stood up and walked out.

“Anyone else want out?” the president asked.

Two others got up and left in silence.  That left nine of us.

“Remember, what happens from this point on is of your own choosing,” the president told us.  “Come with me.”

She took us upstairs to the bedrooms.  Laid out on one of the beds were twelve identical nighties.  Each one was semi-transparent, low cut in front, and very short.  There were no panties with any of them.  Also, there were very thin leather strips, like boot laces, with numbered disks next to each nightie.

“Get undressed completely and put on the nightie.  Then tie a number around your neck.  When you are ready, come back downstairs,” she told us.  Then she turned and left us alone in the room together.

We looked at each other, too embarrassed to speak.  I don’t know who was first or if we all decided at the same time, but we began to strip.  When each of us was wearing a nightie, we helped each other tie the leather strips around our necks.  In the front, the nighties were cut down to just above our nipples.  There was no shape to any of them; they were basically just a piece of cloth with a little elastic at the top edge to keep them from falling off.  There were no sleeves or straps at all.  The nighties did not hide anything.  Our nipples and pubic hair were clearly visible through the gauzy material.  In the back, the garments barely covered our bottoms, and did not even do that if we moved too quickly.

As we came down the stairs, most of the sorority sisters cheered.  Unbeknownst to us, they had gathered in the living room while we were upstairs.  As each of us reached the bottom step, two of the sisters escorted us to a position in the room.  None of us were allowed to sit, which was a good thing given the shortness of our attire.  Two over in that corner, one there by the door; they positioned us so that there was room to move around the room and examine us.  I was placed on the center of one wall near a window.

When we were in position, one of the members of the sorority went to the front porch and the men entered.  The nine of us blushed as if on cue as we saw the men looking us over.  Without thinking, I lowered my eyes to keep from seeing them looking at me.

“Gentlemen, you will have one hour to record your bids on the board.  Your first bid must be put up in the next fifteen minutes.  After that, you may change your bid at any time up until the auction is closed.”

The men began moving about the room, getting a closer look at us.  I felt my nipples grow hard and push against the thin fabric of the nightie as the first group of men came over to examine me.  I was often asked to turn slowly, so that they could examine me from all angles.  Shelly, near the middle of the room, was the only one that they could walk around.

After fifteen minutes of this, one of the men from each fraternity (they were allowed three representatives each) went over to the board and recorded their bids.  I breathed a sigh of relieve when I saw that I was the second lowest bid.  Three of the bidders put in bids on more than one girl.  The other six fraternities only recorded a single bid.

Another man came over and told me to walk across the room and back.  As I walked away from him, I could feel his eyes on me and knew that my bottom was being exposed as the bottom of the nightie swayed.  When I turned around and came back toward him, I kept my eyes down, afraid of how I would react to the look on his face as he watched me.  It was during my walk across the room that I began to feel a change come over me.  Clearly the men were enjoying what was going on and it made me feel good that I could have this affect on them.  Even with my eyes lowered, I could see the bulges in their pants and knew we were arousing them.  I could also feel myself becoming aroused.  I think we were feeding off each other in a way.  I began to loosen up and knew that I had been stiff and unnatural up to then without realizing it.

As soon as I returned to my spot, two of the men went over to the board and changed their bids on me.  I was now the fourth highest.  While they were doing this, another group of three men came over with one of the sorority sisters.  Clearly, they knew each other and were friends.  I noticed similar groups around the others of us being auctioned off.

“Wouldn’t you like to own this luscious slave?” she asked them.  “Look at those cute nipples poking out.”

“She is quite attractive.  Although I would like to see more of her.”

I wondered what he meant because there was no part of me that he could not see through the nightie.

Is she obedient?” another of the men asked.

She looked to the chapter president with an inquiring gaze and the president nodded.  “Let’s find out,” she responded.  “Pledge, remove your nightie.”

To this day, I am not sure why I did it.  I think I may have hesitated, but if I did, it was not for long.  I reached down and pulled the nightie over my head, dropping it on the floor.  As I stood there naked in front of the clothed men and women, I felt a surge of emotion come over me.  I was no longer a young coed.  I was a woman being auctioned off as a slave.  As the realization hit me, I think I trembled slightly.

Around the room, the others were also being told to strip.  Two of the pledges couldn’t do it and I saw them go upstairs to get dressed and leave.  We were now down to seven.  One of the two that had left had the second highest bid on the board.  That meant that I was now third highest.

Another group came over.  This time there were two women and four men.  They began talking about me as if I wasn’t present, even though I was standing there naked in front of them.  One of the women stroked my breast as they talked and I held still, actually enjoying her touch, and letting it stimulate me even more than I was.  The next group was even bolder.  Instead of the women touching me, it was now the men.  They patted my bottom, stroked my breasts and gently pinched my nipples.

I was able to see some of the others squirming a little as they were being touched.  I tried to hold still, but I think my movements were more encouraging than discouraging.  Two more of the pledges dropped out during this period.  We were now down to five.  Also, the bids had been changing.  I was now the second highest and Mary, a redhead was first.

Then I realized that my behavior was encouraging the bidding and I wondered what I was doing.  I should not have been reacting so compliantly to what was happening to me because it just made me a higher priority for the bidders.  I still wasn’t sure if I wanted win or lose this bidding.  The fact that I even had mixed emotions about it, instead of praying that someone else would be selected said a lot to me, but I resolved to try to make myself less desirable during the remaining time.

It worked.  The bids changed a few more times and I dropped to third.

“Gentlemen, the time is up,” the president announced and I breathed a sigh of relief.  I wasn’t going to be sold.  Then she went on.  “As you know, each of you may make one more, secret bid for one pledge.  I will take your bids in five minutes.”

While this was going on, we were taken upstairs and allowed to dress.  When we came back down, we were lined up against one wall of the living room.

“Before I announce the results of the bidding, I will tell you that only two of you have been selected, not three.  The two that were selected will report to the winning fraternity houses at eight o’clock tomorrow morning to begin their four weeks of service.  They will receive specific instructions from the members of the winning fraternity before they leave here tonight.  Do any of you have any questions?”

None of us said anything.

I wondered if anyone was going to back out, but it didn’t make sense that they would.  If they were not selected, they would be in the sorority without any problems.  If they were selected, they could always back out by not showing up tomorrow.

“Mary, you have been sold to Phi Alpha for $6,675, a new record for a single girl.  Congratulations.”

I looked over at Mary and she was not smiling.

“Bridgett, you have been sold to Beta Epsilon for $5,950.”

I could not believe that she called my name.  I wanted to disappear from everyone’s sight, but at the same time, I was pleased that someone thought I was worth almost six thousand dollars for a month.

The other girls were clearly relieved that they would not have to spend the next month as a slave in a fraternity house.  They were congratulating themselves and sneaking peeks at Mary and me.  The looks on their faces said it all; they thought Mary and I were sluts.  They had already forgotten that just a few minutes ago, they were naked and being fondled by people they did not know.

The three men from Beta Epsilon came over and took me out to the porch.  One of them explained that I was to bring cosmetics, toiletries, and my books for classes.  They would supply everything else that I needed.

That night, when I returned to my dorm room, Karen, my roommate, asked me how things went.  I couldn’t tell her much because of the secrecy oath, but I did tell her that I would have to stay somewhere else at night for the next four weeks.  She asked where and I told her that I could not tell her.  She looked hurt, but even if I was allowed to, I wasn’t sure that I could explain what I had done and what I was about to do.

That night, I did not sleep well.  I tossed and turned all night, and whenever I did manage to drift off, my dreams were of naked slaves girls held in bondage by warriors or slave traders.  All night I kept wondering if I could really go through with this the next morning.  When the alarm finally went off, I was still undecided.  But as I stood in the shower, my body betrayed me.  The thought of having to be a slave, of being kept naked and serving them, stimulated me so much that I had to masturbate.  It only took a few moments before I experienced the most incredible orgasm I had ever had.

Precisely at eight o’clock the next morning, I rang the bell at the fraternity house.  There were about twenty of them there, sixteen that lived at the house and four others who lodged elsewhere.  They clapped loudly as I was escorted to the center of the living room and I smiled and curtseyed.

One of the fraternity members, Robert I learned later, who was also the president, stood in front of me.  He was also one of the men at the sorority last night.  “We have been doing this for ten years.  In that time, there has only been one year when we did not bid successfully.  We have developed a little ceremony to mark the beginning of your service here.  All you need to do is respond to the questions I ask.  Understand?”

I nodded that I did.

“Do you accept this house as your owner?”

“Yes.”

“And do you offer yourself to it as a slave?”

I gulped.  “Yes.”

“Do you agree to accept the orders and commands of the members of this house without reservation?”

“Yes.”

“Lift your hair off your neck.”

I put my hands behind my head to lift my hair.  He reached around me and put a black leather collar around my throat.  Then he locked it in place with a padlock.  It had a ring every ninety degrees.  The ring in front, with the lock, had a brass disk that said, “I am the property of Beta Epsilon Delta.”

“Remove your clothes, slave.”

I had known this was coming and thought I had prepared myself for it, but I hadn’t really.  I knelt down to untie my shoes, using the time to slow my heartbeat and to try to regain some sense of composure.  I did not want them to know how my heart was racing.  I stood up and kicked my shoes off.  Then I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it slowly off.  I looked around for a place to put it, but couldn’t find anyplace but the floor.  Robert took it from me and handed to another man seated behind him.

I unzipped my shorts and pushed them over my hips.  Then I let them fall to the floor.  I stepped out of them and bent over to pick them up.  Robert took those and handed them backwards.

Now came the moment of truth.  I was clad only in bra and panties.  Somehow, I hoped that they would tell me to stop, that it was enough that I was stripped to my underwear.  But I knew that wasn’t going to happen.  I reached up behind me and undid the bra.  When it was off, I shuddered slightly and felt my nipples grow hard as pebbles.  I quickly pushed down my panties and took them from around my ankles.  Robert took them and I was naked in front of twenty male strangers.

“Kneel down, slave,” Robert told me.  When I was kneeling, he went on.  “Sit back on your heels and spread your knees as wide as possible.”  I did as he said, silently moaning with the image of myself.  “Now put your hands on your thighs, palms up.  Keep your back straight, chin up and eyes down.  Good.  That is the position you will assume whenever one of us enters the room you are in.  You will wait in that position until given orders to continue what you were doing, or until given new orders.  Understand?”

“Yes.”

“The correct response is, ‘Yes, Master.’  That is how you will address every member of this house.  Understand, slave.”

“Yes, Master.”

“There is one more thing we must do before you are prepared to serve this house.  Lie down on your back with your arms and legs spread as wide as possible.”  I got in position before he continued.  “Bring the equipment.”

The equipment was a bowl of hot water, scissors, a can of shaving cream, a towel, and a razor.  Then Robert knelt between my legs.  He used the scissors to cut my pubic hair as close as possible, and then he shaved me.  I kept my eyes tightly closed as he worked, but a tear forced its way between my closed eyelids.  When he finished, he patted me dry and stood up.

“Kneel, slave,” he commanded.  I got back on my knees and spread my knees.  With my eyes down, I was able to see my bare pussy and how my vagina opened before him.  I was blushing and felt like crying.  I hadn’t realized that even the little privacy pubic hair afforded was so important to me until that moment.

“Now we will instruct you on your duties,” he announced and I knew that my four weeks of slavery was about to begin for real.  Every day you will clean this house from top to bottom.  Beds will be made, floors vacuumed or mopped, items dusted, and things put away.  Laundry will be left in a pile by members’ doors and that will be done, including ironing.  You will cook dinner at night for sixteen and make other meals on request.  You will run any errands members request.

“You will post your class schedule on the chalkboard in the kitchen.  You will be allowed to leave no earlier than 20 minutes before class and must return no later than 20 minutes after class.  You will have two hours of study time after you serve dinner and have cleaned the kitchen.

“You will remain nude at all times in the house.  When you leave the house, you will get dressed at the front door.  We have a garment there you can wear outside.  When you reenter the house, you will remove the garment and hang it in the front closet immediately.

“Do you have any questions, slave?”

“No, Master.”

“Steve, show her where everything is.”

Steve stood up and signaled me to stand.  Then he took me on a tour of the house.  The downstairs consisted of three large rooms.  First was the common room, or living room that I was in.  Next was a large dining room.  Finally there was a large kitchen with restaurant quality appliances and a large refrigerator.  It also had a large pantry that was well stocked.  The second and third floors consisted of eight bedrooms per floor.  At the back of the kitchen was a door that led down to the basement with laundry facilities, storage, and cleaning supplies.  When we finished in the basement, Steve told me that I should start with the bedrooms and bathrooms on the third floor and work my way down, cleaning the house.

It took me two trips to lug the vacuum, bucket, mop, and other supplies up to the third floor.  I started with the bedroom closest to the stairs and went through each room, vacuuming, dusting, making the beds, and piling laundry next to the steps.  The last room I did was the bathroom.  It had two urinals, a toilet, three sinks, and a large shower.  That took me almost as long the eight bedrooms because I don’t think the place had been cleaned in a month.

By the time I finished the second floor, it was after one o’clock.  I had taken all of the laundry down to the basement but didn’t have enough time to get it started because I had a two o’clock class.  I was also getting hungry and wondered about lunch, so I went to the kitchen.  One of the members was there eating a sandwich.

“Master, may I make some lunch for myself before going to class?” I asked.

He nodded and I made myself a sandwich and a glass of milk.  Then I started to sit down at the table with him to eat and he told me to stop.  “You will eat all of your meals kneeling on the floor,” he said.

I knelt down and put the plate and glass between my open legs and ate.  When I finished, I rinsed the dishes off in the sink (noticing the large stack that had grown since my tour this morning), and went out to the common room.  It was only a few more minutes before I could leave, so I went to the closet to get my clothes and books that I needed.

I was surprised that my clothes were not in the closet.  Instead, there was a very heavy, white cotton tee shirt on a hanger with a red cord hanging around the hook.  On the floor was a new pair of Keds that were my size.  Someone must have looked at my shoes and gone out that morning and bought them after looking at the size I wore.  The tee had the Greek letters Beta Epsilon Delta embroidered on the left side.  There was nothing else in the closet except my books and cosmetics case, so I knew it had to be for me.  I pulled the tee over my head and used the red cord to belt it around my waist.  The shirt just barely hung below my bottom and even though my breasts were firm and did not sag, I knew that it would be obvious that I did not have anything on underneath it.  At least, I thought, they weren’t going to make me walk to class naked.

Walking to class was really quite an experience.  I obviously got a lot of looks from the boys, but I hadn’t expected the looks I got from other coeds.  It was like daggers were shooting out of their eyes.  The ones walking with guys were the worst.

I got through class and got back to the fraternity without anyone doing anything.  I did overhear some of the louder comments, things like “slut” and “whore” that were said after I passed.  As soon as I was inside the door, I hung up the tee shirt and cord and put my shoes in the closet.  Then it was back to my chores.  I went down to the basement to do the laundry.

I spent the rest of the afternoon down there, washing, drying, and ironing.  About seven o’clock, I finished and took it upstairs when I realized there was a problem.  I didn’t know whose laundry was whose.  There were two of the members in the common room, so I asked them what I should do.

“You didn’t bother to keep it straight when you took it down?”

“No, Master,” I answered, kneeling at his feet.

“Joe, go get the others.”

The one named Joe got up and went upstairs.  In a few minutes, there were twelve other members present.  The man I had asked about the laundry explained the situation to them then finished up with, “What do you think we should do to her because of this?”

The president asked me if I knew what happened to slaves when they made mistakes or did not perform their tasks well enough.

“No, Master, I don’t.”

“They are punished.  Do you know how they are punished?”

“No, Master.”

“Go stand in the door frame with your back to this room.”

The opening between the two rooms was about eight feet wide.  I did as I was told and two men came with me, one standing on each side.  Two others brought them some rope and they tied my wrists then looped the ropes in hooks at the top corners of the opening.  Pulling the ropes through pulled my arms up and out.  Then the ropes were tied off, holding me in place.  One of the men went out to the kitchen and came back with a wash rag.  The president ducked under my arms and told me to open my mouth.  When I did, he stuffed in the rag.  Then he went behind me again and I heard him pull off his belt.

“Each member will get one stroke.  You will remain in place until the last four members come back and they take their strokes.”

I thought he was crazy.  I wanted to yell out that I wanted no part of this, that the game was over, but all I could get past the rag was a muffled whimper.  Then I heard the belt whip through the air and as it struck me, my back exploded and I was thrown forward, losing my balance and hanging from my outstretched hands.  As soon as I had regained my feet, another blow struck me across the back of my thighs.  I heard myself scream in my own mind, but no sound could escape the gag in my mouth.

The beating seemed to go on for hours, but in reality, it could only have lasted a few minutes.  When they finished, I was left crying in my bonds, my chin on my chest and my body sagging in the doorway.  A few minutes later, after I had gotten to my feet, I wondered when they were going to let me down before I remembered that I had to wait like this until the other members returned home and got to use the belt on me.

Members went up to their rooms after that and only three remained in the common room.  Two of them came around in front of me, ducking under my arms.

“You took your beating well, slave,” one of them said to me.

I just shook my head no, unable to vocalize a response because of the gag.

“I am going to remove the gag now.  However, if you scream, I will replace it.  Do you understand?”

I nodded my head yes.

He pulled the balled up washcloth from my mouth.

“What kinds of freaks are you?” I asked.

“That should have been, ‘What kinds of freaks are you, Master?’ but we will forgive your slip this time.  And the answer to that is that we are all dominant men, whose desire is to own a slave.  For the next four weeks, we own you and are going to take advantage of that fact.

“Be assured, that not every experience you have in this house will be that painful.  Some will be quite pleasurable, I promise.”

Saying that, he reached up and began gently twirling my nipple between his fingers.  As he did, the ache from my beating began to subside and new feelings started to fill me.  As I responded to his touch, he dropped his hand to between my legs.  I didn’t make it hard for him, even if I could have, I didn’t want to.  As he rubbed me, I was acutely conscience of my shaved mound, but then his finger entered me and I forgot about that as he brought me to climax.

Just before the orgasm came, he removed his hand and instructed me that I must ask permission to cum.  By that time, I was frustrated and excited both; frustrated that he had removed his hand and excited by what was happening to me.  But to ask permission for an orgasm?  The humiliation of not having control over my own body made me blush, but as I did, I was trying to grind my hips to stimulate myself.  Finally, the physical overcame the mental and I begged him to let me climax.

He replaced his finger inside me and I had the best orgasm I have ever experienced.  After I came, he had me lick his finger clean and I tasted my own fluids for the first time.

Over the next two hours, the final four members came home and my offense and punishment were explained to them.  They hadn’t bothered to replace the gag, and, to my credit, I did not cry out very loud after I was struck.  After the last man took his turn, one of the men stood in front of me.

“We are going to release you now.  It has always been your choice to stay or go.  Before I release you, I want to know what your choice will be.”

“I will remain, Master.”  I had already made up my mind to stay in the two hours I had been bound in the doorway.  But the choice wasn’t based on joining the sorority.  I really wanted to see where this would go.  I had recovered quickly from the beating (the body can forget pain quickly) and I had been thinking about the orgasm that had been so wonderful.  If one man could do that with his finger, what would it be like when he was really inside me?  As members had gone past me to the kitchen for the last two hours, I had seen the looks on their faces as they looked at me bound in the doorway.  It was more than just lust on their faces.  The feeling that I got was that I was that they wanted to own me and control me because they found me so desirable.  Seeing that did wonders for my ego.  I had wanted to ask them to bring me to another climax, but I wasn’t quite to the point where I could be that open with them about my own needs yet.  However, I also realized that it would not be that long until I was on my knees begging them to let me climax.  And the realization that I was in a position where I was expected to be a sexual animal, where sex was open and did not have any of the relationship clutter getting in the way of pleasure, really appealed to me.

He signaled to others and they released me from my bonds.  I was taken to the kitchen to eat and after that to the bathroom on the second floor.  Two men watched me as I showered, brushed my teeth, and went to the toilet.  I looked at them, begging for some privacy for the last, but if they understood the look, they did not acknowledge it.  It took me several minutes sitting on the stool before I was able to relax enough to complete my business.

After that, I was taken down to the basement and chained by the collar to a pillar.  I was given one small, ratty pillow, and an old blanket.  The blanket was not to keep warm; I had to use it to stay off the cement floor.

After I was put to bed, I expected the men to come down one or two at a time to use me.  After several hours of waiting, I finally feel asleep.


Part Two

The next morning, I was awakened by one of the men nudging me with his toe.  I started to rise, but he signaled me to remain on my knees.  I was still chained and I could feel the cold metal links dropping from the collar between my breasts.  He unzipped his pants and took out his penis.  I knew what he expected and took it in my mouth eagerly, because I had already been shown the night before how painful it would be to disobey.  But there was more to it than just that.  I was giving him pleasure, not just in the physical sense, but also because of the situation.  He knew he had all the power and I think, looking back on it now, that the knowledge of that multiplied the physical pleasure.

After I swallowed his semen, he unlocked the chain from my collar and took me upstairs where I was given an apple and a glass of milk for breakfast.  Then I was taken to the second floor where I was allowed to use the toilet, shower, and put on my make-up.  Throughout my preparation, there were always two or three men watching me and I have to admit, I was becoming aroused by their watching.

I was told to clean the house particularly well because they were going to have company that night.  I wondered if the company would see me and know about my slavery.  I wasn’t worried about it, just curious.  After all, what were a few more witnesses to my degradation?  Actually, that is not how I really felt about it.  I did not view what was happening to me as degrading, but more as an awakening of part of my sexuality.

I started on my chores, but in the middle of the morning, I had to get ready for class.  Twenty minutes before it began, I walked out of the fraternity house in my tee shirt with the red cord, and my Keds.  Karen, my roommate in the dorm, was in the same class and I think I shocked her when I showed up.  After class, she wanted to talk, but I was hurrying away in order to make it back to the fraternity in time.  She caught up with me just as I came out of the building.

“Wait up.  Where are you going so fast?”

“I have to be back in twenty minutes, Mistress.”

To this day, I don’t know why I called her that.  It just came out.  I think it was because after only one full day as a slave, I saw myself as a slave, completely.  She was not a slave; therefore I addressed her as Mistress.  She spun me around by the shoulder, forcing me to stop.

“What is going on with you?  Why did you call me Mistress and why are you naked underneath the tee shirt?  And what is that horrible thing around your neck?”

“If Mistress would keep walking with me, I will explain.”

“Okay, but this better be good.”

I told her that as part of my initiation, I had to be submissive (I didn’t use the word slave) and that meant wearing the tee-shirt and collar, and addressing her as Mistress.”

“But those letters on your shirt are a fraternity, not the sorority you’re joining.”

“Yes, Mistress.  That is where I am heading now.”

“I want to come with you and see what is going on.”

I shrugged.  After all, I was only a slave and unable to stop her if she wished to walk with me.  When we got to the fraternity, I had her wait on the porch while I went inside.  As soon as I closed the door, I stripped off the tee and shoes, and found two members in the living room.  I knelt down in front of them and asked for permission to speak.  When they consented, I explained.

“My roommate from the dorm followed me here.  She wants to come inside and see what is happening to me, Masters.  She is on the porch waiting.”

“Go upstairs and do your chores.  We will handle it.”

I did as I was told, but my mind was not on my tasks.  I was wondering how I would react if my roommate, another woman, would see me as a slave.  I tried to be logical by asking myself what the difference was between 20 or 21 or 22 people knowing, but it really was fundamentally different because she was a female.

I worked until about seven o’clock.  It was hard to complete tasks because I was constantly being interrupted to perform oral sex on the members (no pun intended).  I was in the kitchen, doing dishes when I heard the door at the front open and several people come in.  A few minutes later, I was summoned to the living room.  There were about thirty-five or forty guys crowding around.  In the middle of the floor, Mary was kneeling, naked except for a collar.  Like me, she had been shaved.  I was told to stand in front of her and she was told to stand up.

One of the men from the other fraternity came over to us.  “You have both adapted very well to your situations,” he started, “and we want to reward you.  So you may make love to each other.”

We both turned to look at him.  I had never considered doing it with another woman before, and I wasn’t even sure how to go about it.  Mary took my hand and started pulling me toward the stairs.

“Stop, slaves,” he commanded and we both turned around to look at him.  “Not upstairs, here, with us watching.”

Neither one of us moved a muscle.  Everyone was looking at us, and I felt myself blush from head to toe at the thought of everyone seeing me make love to Mary.  She was just as discomfited as I was at the idea.

“Would the two of you prefer to be whipped instead?” he asked when we failed to respond.

“No, Master,” I answered and took a step toward Mary.  I could feel her breasts pressing into mine, then lifted my hands, put them on her shoulders, and pulled her even closer.  Then I kissed her.  It took her a moment to respond, but she finally returned the kiss.  After a long moment, I felt her tongue part my lips and we pressed our mouths tighter together.  I broke off the kiss, stepped back, and leaned over to kiss her breasts.  As my lips touched her nipples, I felt them grow hard and contract.  I switched to the other breast and took her nipple between my teeth, gently nipping at her while my hand went up to the breast I had just abandoned.  After a few minutes, I went down to my knees so that my face was in front of her bare pussy.  Closing my eyes, I leaned forward and licked and kissed her bare mound.  Finally it was time, I decided, and put my tongue inside her.

It took me a moment for my tongue to uncover her clit.  As I licked and sucked on it, she put her hands to my head and pressed my face harder against her.  I could hear the soft moans escaping from her mouth.  Before she climaxed, I pulled back, took her hands and pulled her to the floor.  Forcing her backwards until she lay exposed before me, I leaned over and began sucking her nipple.  Then I put my hand over her pussy and massaged it for just a few seconds before I put my finger inside her.

Just before she came, I shifted a little and kissed her neck and ear.  As she came, I kissed her hard on the mouth, holding it long after she finished her orgasm.

Then it was my turn.  We turned over so I was on my back and she was kneeling over me.  She ministered to my body the same way I had to hers.  But after several minutes, she whispered in my ear to get up on all fours.  I did as she said, and then she lay down between my legs and lifted her face to my pussy.  When I finally came, it was with my back arched high and my hips pressing myself down to her face.

The guys’ applause took me by surprise.  Mary stood up and I followed her lead.  Then we curtseyed, two naked slaves, in acknowledgment of the applause.

Next up in the evening’s entertainment was a game.  We would each perform oral sex on ten guys.  The one who finished first would be allowed to masturbate with everyone watching.  The loser would be whipped.

I was on my eighth man when Mary finished, but except for one guy who took forever to ejaculate down my throat, I was faster, I think.  I must have spent twenty minutes doing him before he finally came.

I was strung up between the French doors like I had been yesterday.  Then they had Mary lay down in front of me so I could see her play with herself.  It was hard to keep my eyes on her, knowing the pleasure she was feeling and the pain I was about to feel.  When she finished, she was told to move out of the way.  One of the men from the other fraternity stood in front of me and to the side with a cat o’ nine tails in his hand.

Yesterday, when I had been whipped, they confined the strokes to my back and bottom, but tonight they attacked the front of my body.  The first stroke was straight across my stomach and I cried out from the pain.  Then, keeping all of the strokes between my knees and neck, he kept lashing out with the cat.  With my head hanging down, I could see the welts that were being raised on my skin.  The worst pain came from the lashes across my breasts.  I thought the rough leather of the cat was going to rip my nipples off, it hurt so much.

For the last five strokes, he swung the cat up between my legs, whipping the inside of my thighs and pussy.  I was just on the edge of losing consciousness from the pain when he finally stopped.

I was freed from my bonds and four men took Mary and me upstairs.  We were each taken to a bedroom and tied spread-eagled to a bed.  For the rest of the night, we were gang-banged.  I must have had men inside me more than twenty times that night.  About half the time, I was able to have an orgasm before the guy came inside me.  Each climax took a little of the pain from the whipping away and, after the first two or three times, added a new level of pain despite the orgasms.  Finally, around dawn, I fell asleep still tied to the bed.

Early that afternoon, one of the men woke me and freed me from the bed.  I was taken to the bathroom and allowed to relieve and clean myself in relative privacy.  I was sore all over, and the welts, while faded, were still apparent.  I had dried semen all over my stomach, pussy, and bottom.  The hot, steamy shower that I took washed some of the soreness from me, but I was still a little stiff, after I got out.  I took a long time to put on my make-up and fix my hair before I was finally able to face others.

When I finally came downstairs, the men still in the house congratulated me on my performance the night before.  I was also given a new rule to follow.  Whenever a man entered the room, or whenever I entered a room with men in it, I was told to walk up to him, press my body into his, and kiss him.  Only then could I continue what I had been doing.  I immediately went to the man who had given me the order and put it into practice.  Not only did I press myself into him, but while I kissed him, I ground my hips against him until I could feel him begin to get hard under his jeans.  There were four others in the room and I did the same thing to them.  It felt good doing it because it let them know that I was okay with what had happened last night and that I wanted to please them.

When I finished, I asked if I could get something to eat and they gave me permission to do so.  As I sat on the floor in the kitchen eating a sandwich and an apple, I thought about what was happening to me.  I was happy, despite being whipped and raped.  Well, raped is not the right word, because by definition, a slave cannot be raped since she cannot refuse a command.  Nor is abused the right word, because I did not see myself as having been abused.  I was used, yes, but not abused.  Maybe the right way to express it is that I was taught the meaning of my slavery.  I existed to give them pleasure in whatever way they could take it from me.  Everything else was superfluous.

The next day, when I got out of class, Karen was waiting for me.  She pulled me aside as I left the classroom until we were alone in the hallway, then she asked me what they were doing to me.  I know that I was supposed to keep the secret, but I really needed to tell her.  So I asked her to walk with me toward the frat house while I explained.

When I finished, she looked like she was thinking hard about something.  We walked together to the house and I went in, but I left the door open.  I let her watch as I stripped off the tee shirt and shoes.  Then I stood for a moment in the doorway, letting her look at me.  Instead of looking at my body, her eyes seemed to focus on my collar.  Slowly, I closed the door and went back to my chores.

The next week passed quickly.  I think that I was entered, either in the mouth, vagina, or anus, about fifteen or twenty times a day.  Even the last was enjoyable after I learned how to relax enough for the man to enter me.

There was going to be another party Friday night.  Karen had been bugging me all week to tell her about what I was doing.  Friday afternoon, I talked to one of the members and asked if he would invite her to the party so she could see what I was doing.  I told him she had been following me all week and asking questions.  I really felt this was the only way, short of them giving me permission to explain it to her.

That night, there were about twenty couples at the frat house.  Most of the women were members of the sorority that had sold me into slavery.  Karen was also there.  My job was to serve everyone, in whatever way they wanted.  Mostly this meant food and drinks, but it also meant that I was available for whoever wanted to use me.  However, because the guys all had dates, they really held back.  Mostly, I was used by the women, sometimes with everyone watching and sometimes in private.

Not only was it different for me, but their reactions were quite different from each other.  For me, the difference came from the presence of the women.  It is one thing to be naked all of the time around the men, because I had a strong hetero inclination and found it sexy to be naked around them all of the time.  But because there was not a strong sexual attraction to the women, it was a bit humiliating to be around them the same way.  I was clearly beneath them.  They were clothed, I was nude.  They were able to give me orders, I had to obey them.  For the first time as a slave, I saw myself as inferior to them.  Once I saw myself that way in relation to the women, I also began to feel that way in relation to the men and this was a new feeling for me.

In terms of the way they reacted to me, it ranged from worthless slut to amusing child.  Some of them saw this as a game and treated it as such.  There were rules and I just happened to be the loser.  Others made it clear that I was an abomination to them, as if I had betrayed all women by becoming a sexual object.

Being a sexual object was fine with me as long as I was having ten or more orgasms a day.

Late in the evening, one of the women claimed that I had offended her and punishment was ordered.  To this day, I do not know what I did to make her angry, other than being content about my slavery.  I was looking at Karen when the punishment was announced.  She looked very stiff, sitting straight up in her chair.

Instead of being stretched out in the doorway like I had been all the other times I was whipped, I was ordered to lie down, on my back, on the coffee table.  My ankles were tied to the legs, keeping my legs spread, and my hands were pulled over my head and tied to the other two legs.  Then the woman who complained about me was given a riding crop.  The blows started raining down on me, to my arms, breasts, stomach, and thighs.  I was crying out as I twisted around, trying to protect some area, but there was, of course, some new area for her to strike every time I moved.  After about ten minutes, I just lay there, a continual moan escaping my lips as the pain built up inside me.

“Stop, she can’t take any more.”  It was Karen who cried out.

“That’s enough,” one of the men agreed and took the crop from my attacker.  She gave it up, reluctantly, and spit in my face as she called me a slut.

The party broke up soon after that, but I remained tied to the coffee table, still moaning softly.  Karen came over and knelt by me, stroking my hair, and whispering that every thing would be all right.  Then I did the one thing that I knew would set the course for the rest of my life.

“Let me please you, Mistress,” I croaked as I tried to kiss her.

She stood up suddenly, ashen faced.  There was a look on it that said she could not believe that I would still act like a slave after receiving the beating I had.  She stared at me for several moments, turned, and left the fraternity house.  After that, I was freed and taken down to the basement for the evening.  For the first time, I was not chained by the collar.  I think they knew that I was not going to leave.

The next Monday, Karen was waiting for me again after class.  We walked outside and she asked me why I let them do that to me.  I asked her what she meant and she said she was talking about the whipping I had received.

“I know that I could stop this anytime simply by telling them I don’t want to do it anymore, and Lord knows I have thought about it, Mistress.  But I don’t think I want it to stop.”

“You like being whipped?”

“No, Mistress.  I like all of the other things that go with being a slave.  In order to get all of those other things, I have to endure the whipping.”

“What do you like?”

“I like it that I am naked almost all of the time, Mistress.  I know I am attractive and I really like the looks on their faces when they look at me.  I like having multiple orgasms every day, and I like pleasing the men even if I don’t have an orgasm.  But mostly, I like the feeling of not having control.  I like experiencing all of the feelings that I am having without having to worry about making decisions.”

“I think I understand.  I have fantasized about being a slave, but after watching you get whipped, I know I could never do it.  That is why I started waiting for you and following you when I saw you wearing a collar.  I knew that you were living out my fantasy.”

I didn’t say anything to that.  I knew it was true.

After a moment, she spoke again.  “You said you liked being nude all of the time.  Would you ever appear in public that way?”

“Mistress, I consider the frat house public.  I don’t know how many men and women have seen me as a slave there.  It is certainly not private with that many people being present.”

“I don’t mean inside.  How about right now?  How about outside, walking back?”

“Mistress, I was ordered to wear this to and from class.  I must obey the order.”

“What if someone gave you a different order?  If you were really a slave, you would have to obey them, wouldn’t you?”

I finally understood what she was leading up to.  I remember thinking to myself that if I could do what she wanted, then I really would be a slave and I knew that I wanted that more than anything else.  We were still about ten minutes from the frat house, just less than a mile.  I stopped and turned to her.

“What is it Mistress wishes this slave to do?” I asked.

“Give me your books, slave.”

I handed them over to her.

“Now remove your garment.”

I undid the red cord around my waist and handed it to her.  Then I pulled the tee shirt over my head and gave that to her also.  I was naked outside except for my locked collar and shoes.  There were about twenty people within a hundred yards of us.  Some of them stopped to look, but most hadn’t even noticed yet.

“I will carry your books.  I don’t want you using them to cover up.  You go first.  I will walk behind you.”

I started to walk toward the house again.  As I did, my mind was racing.  Karen was behind me so I was alone.  I could see some people pointing at me as I walked, just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.  Some of the males started coming toward me, not slowly, but not running either.  Some were angling to a point in front of me, so that they could walk toward me.  As they got in position and turned, I wondered what I looked like to them.  Collar locked around my throat, nipples hard and erect, bare pubic mound; I could almost see myself through their eyes.

The ten-minute walk seemed to take an hour because of how fast my mind was working.  I was also in a state of heightened arousal.  If any of the men who had come near me had told me to lie down and spread my legs for them, I would have dropped instantly.  As soon as I was inside the house, I kicked off my shoes, went up to the first man I found, and kissed him hard.  Then, as I pressed myself against him, I whispered in his ear that I wanted him to use me.

Karen had followed me in.  After putting my books and tee shirt away, she stood watching me.  The man saw her and ordered me to the floor.  I lay down and opened myself for him.  Karen watched as he undid his pants and got on top of me.  When the orgasm came, it felt like every cell in my body was going to explode with pleasure.  He had me get to my knees and lick him clean before he fastened his pants.  All through this, Karen had kept still.  After he left, I got up and turned to her.

“That is why I love being a slave.”  Then I went upstairs to work on my chores.

About four days before my four weeks was up, one of the men who lived off campus took me up to a room.  He was one of the men who used me most frequently, and he had whipped me on occasion.  He had me kneel in front of him as he sat on the bed.

“Your initiation is almost up,” he started.

“Yes, Master.”

“How do you feel about that?”

I knew how I felt, but I still had trouble admitting it.  After a long pause, I was just about to speak when he cut me off.

“Would you prefer to answer or be whipped?” he asked.

“Whatever Master chooses.”

“I prefer an answer.”

“Master, I love my slavery.  I will be disappointed when it ends.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“What do you mean, Master.”

“I have a place off campus.  I graduate early, in December.  I want you to come live with me and be my slave.”

I jumped up and kissed him (for which I later got punished, but not severely).  “Yes, Master.  I will be your slave,” I cried and laughed at the same time.  There were tears running down my face, but they were happy tears.

That was four years ago, and had I stayed in college, I would be graduating this month.  There is not a lot left to tell, other than Jed, my Master, and I have been very happy.  He is an engineer for Rockwell on loan to NASA and we have a great place in Florida.  Master controls my whole life and I would not have it any other way.

Oh, there is one more thing to tell.  That Christmas, Master and I went to my home so my parents could meet him.  That was when I told them that I would not be completing school.  My mother and father looked at me for a moment, and then my mother spoke.

“You were selected for the initiation weren’t you?” she asked.

Jed and I just looked at each other for a few moments, not knowing what to say.  Then my mother got up and left the room.  My father followed her out, and Master and I kept quiet, while he figured out what to say.  About ten minutes later, my father came back in, leading my mother on a leash.  She was nude, except for her collar.  She knelt at his feet while he explained.

“Your chapter just started doing this about ten years ago, but other chapters have been doing it much longer.  Your mother was auctioned off to a fraternity and that is how we met.  She has been my slave every since.”

I looked at my mother kneeling there and for the first time, realized how beautiful she was.  Then I did the only thing I could do.  I stood up and stripped.