Delta Gamma Delta Knows How to Party: Part 2

Part 1

“Come on, Eddy,” I said, tugging at his arm. I bent over to slap his face and a moment later I felt Amy’s tight jeans against my bare thighs, her thighs and hips much wider than mine. One hand grasped my hip, locking my hips to hers, while the other made its way gently but swiftly up my neck and sank into my hair on the back of my head. She lifted my head up a bit to whisper in my ear hot and low “You shouldn’t be showing me that tight little ass in those tight little panties unless you want me to give it a good spanking.”

I slapped her on the hip lightly to get her to release me. “Mmm,” she cooed loudly enough for the girls nearby to hear, “this slut’s got fight.” This time I wasn’t playing. I shoved her hip off of mine and twisted out of her grasp. With a grunt I heaved Ed to his feet. He allowed me to drag him hastily through the grinding heat of the dancers to the door.

For a moment there was nothing between us and the door but air, until Amy called out, “Hey Sandy,” and the lovely black girl from my Monday morning class became an wall between us and our escape. Amy’s stunningly piercing voice cut through the noise again, “Hey turn that down. We’ve got a couple of beaver-teasers trying to drink and dash.”

Sandra didn’t look happy.

“You come into our house, you drink our booze and you try to run off? You think this is come kind of charity? We just givin’ out beer to every boy who thinks he’s cute?”

“No,” I explained, “it’s not like that. We didn’t even drink much.” Sure enough Amy had made her way through the now mostly motionless room carrying two plastic cups. “See?” I offered weakly.

I flinched a little as she extended an arm to take the cup from Amy. Even in my fuck-me pumps she had a head of height on me. I tried not to look scared.

“So now you’re just wasting drinks. You think we throw this shit away?” and then, addressing the crowd, “What do we do here girls?”  

Chug Chug Chug, the chant started up.

Sandra quieted them down to say, “So who’s drinking what? Looks like we have a punch and a beer.”

Edward, eyes still half closed, chimed on autopilot, “Oh I don’t like beer.”

“Punch it is,” said Sandy, handing him the drink. I tried to intercept it saying, “uhh, wait” but Ed snatched it from Sandy’s hand.

I knew that the drink was suicide for Ed. He was considerably smaller and lighter than me and the punch was way more alcoholic and roofied (probably) than the beer. I took the beer. “I really think we should switch,” I said to Ed.

He hesitated for a moment, staring stupidly at the drink, and then said, “You know what, Peter. You’re my new best friend. You can have it.”

“Awww” the crowd called with varying levels of sincerity.

The school presentation flashed through my head. “1. Do not drink anything you didn’t open and pour.” I gulped down the foul red concoction that tasted like kid’s punch and vodka in as few sips as possible. This was a skill I had developed over time. Ed meanwhile coughed and sputtered all the way down.

“I don’t feel well,” he said, nearing the bottom of the cup.

“You got this,” I said, patting his back even as I swayed on my feet. My head had gone woozy and my stomach burned. There were probably three shots worth in my cup and if not more.

Ed finished the cup and dropped it on the floor, belching. We both managed to keep our composure. The women giggled at Ed’s cute burp. Somehow even a burp sounded cute chirping through his tiny neck.

“Very good,” said Sandra. “Now you’re going to give us a little show. I want you to take your little brother’s hand.”

“He’s not,” I started, but remembered to stay quiet. I took his hand.

“How cute,” Sandra said. “Now you’re going to kiss. Give him a little kiss.”

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I always said this wasn’t me. I wasn’t going to be that sheltered little boy who makes out at parties for the amusement of perverted girls. Sandy’s huge hand on my ass startled me forward. Her fat middle finger probed up between my ass cheeks, sending a shock through my body.

Ed smiled at me, still relaxed. “It’s fine,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

I had a little more pride than that, but with the room beginning to spin around me, I grabbed on to Ed for balance and before I knew it our heads were being mashed together. Ed’s lips found mine and I kissed him.

The cheer went up among the crowd. “Sisters!” someone yelled. “Brothers!” replied someone else to the amusement of the group. After a moment I tried to pull back but Sandy’s firm grip on my skull compelled me forward again.

“Come on,” she said, “give him a little tongue.”

Amy’s mouth was at my other ear, tongue pushing wet and warm into my head. “Give him some tongue,” she whispered. “Show us you like it.” She was coming around me again, grabbing my hip. This time there was nothing I could do as she started to hump me comically hard to the amusement of the party. My face mashed painfully into Ed’s aided by Sandy’s strong grip.

Amy’s free hand now found its way between my legs. Another electric shock feeling fired from my groin to the pit of my stomach. It was rare that anyone touched me there. She made her way down along my ass, feeling through my panties my chastity device pulled back along my perineum along to the lock at the top and my hairless pubic area beyond. I wanted to look at her, pull back, do something, but my head was locked in those thick fingers. Ed sobbed a little, his face becoming wet and sloppy against mine. I could only imagine what they were doing to him. Amy’s hand made its way back along the device and she slipped a finger around my panties to feel my sensitive piercing and asshole. I squirmed away and she said, “Mmm. Locked and clean shaven. Just the way I like my boys.” The crowd responded in the usual way.

Sandy finally released our heads but the freedom was short lived as we were swept up and pulled/carried away to the kitchen. It was all a blur of bodies now and I could feel every part of me being squeezed, pinched, slapped and tickled. I was in sensory overload. After they tossed me on my back on the wooden kitchen table, a blonde pushed my legs up and felt through my panties my perineum. “What did I tell you?” she asked. “He’s got swelling back here. That’s a clear sign that he’d be getting hard right now if not for the restraint. This is why we restrain the boys. They really can’t handle themselves around women. Do you hear me, young man? This is disgusting,” she said, slapping me there.

Ed let out a high, long squeal. I looked over to see him with his stomach against the table, legs kicking, toes not quite touching the ground as the women rammed his ass with a purple dildo. “This slut wasn’t even wearing panties,” someone said.

Disoriented and upset I started slurring, “How a man chooses to dress is no indication of his willingness to have sex.”  At least that’s what I was trying to say. Halfway through some fat fuck dipped her piggy fingers into my throat, joking to her friends, “That’s why they make gags. These uppity bitches have all kinds of stupid shit to say.” I retched but the fingers made no indication of moving.

“No,” said Amy, “let him talk.” The fingers didn’t budge. “I think that masculist stuff is hilarious. I want to hear what he has to say with a fat vibe up his ass.”

A voice on the other side of the room cried out “Who knows how to throw a party?”

About half the girls cried out in unison “Delta Gamma Delta knows how to throw a party!”

The other half was not Delta Gamma Delts apparently.

Ed squealed with renewed vigor. A girl had strapped the oversized cock to herself and was riding him hard against the table. His toes searched the air for purchase but he couldn't quite touch the ground and there was no way to brace himself against the incoming onslaught.

Amy returned from her room with a ribbed vibrator as wide around as her fist and twelve inches long. It was pink just like the bows in Amy’s hair and on her shoes.  She clicked it on for a demonstration and it made a deep, low buzzing sound. I could see her hands vibrating in the air. Suddenly I was glad I drank the vile punch.

Sandra lifted me under the armpits off of the table and onto the floor. I tried to push myself to my feet, but her strong grip on the top of my head made it impossible. Someone tossed a towel on the floor which Sandra forced me onto and Amy laid the vibrating cock against my spine. It basically felt as wide as my whole back. I tried to look up to plead but Sandra pushed me down with a vengeance. “I know you’re not trying to peek up my skirt, pervert,” she said.  Ed hit the ground next to me moaning loudly, too tired to scream any more

“Let me go and I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Neither will Ed. We won’t say a word,” I promised, but Sandra only forced my face down onto her foot, laughing.

“Tell them what? That you committed a misdemeanor at my party and I put you under citizens’ arrest?” she asked. Amy’s unmistakable giggle rang through the crowd. “Why don’t you give my shoe a lick while you’re down there?” She was already pushing my lips into the disgusting plastic band along the outside as she said it.

“Come on,” cried someone as she kicked my side.

I shouted with pain and surprise and that was enough to send a howl of laughter through the crowd. “Heel-licker” the chant went up.

“Okay, okay,” Amy said to quiet the crowd. “I know what to do. Boy, you know the Men’s Liberation Creedo? I bet a bitchy prude like you knows it by heart.”

She was referring to the Easter Massacre Speech that ended the first wave men’s liberation movement a half century ago. Police shot twelve men trying to escape the demonstration and all 18 of the leaders were hanged for crimes against society and against nature. Their wives, deranged, self-hating women who repeatedly accepted their husband’s clits inside of them, were hanged afterwards. After that it became the norm for men to wear chastity devices regularly. It was downright dangerous to pop a boner in public now that the government was enforcing the first decency laws.

And as a matter of fact, I did know the speech, but not because of men’s studies classes. That unpleasantness isn’t discussed much anywhere. I knew the speech because I was an educated young man who cared about history and these girls were spiteful and close-minded. Instead of saying all that, I said “Yes.”

“Pig” groaned someone in the room and several others made oinking sounds.

Amy hushed them again. “That’s perfect. Would you be so kind as to recite it for us?”

“Yes,” I said with a gulp. Suddenly fear and humiliation turned to plain old fashioned stage fright. I started slow, hearing my small frail voice against the boisterous chatter. “It is before God…”

“I can’t hear you!” came a voice that easily overpowered mine.

I cleared my throat, knees beginning to grow sore against the hardwood even through the towel. The extra weight of Sandra’s arm was not helping. “It is before God and Man that we declare this constitution of unalienable rights.” I had already gotten laughs at “God.” It was not inspiring.

“We recognize that men are equal to women in all ways, professional, artistic and emotional. That men,” I took a breath finally. That’s why it was so quiet. I bellowed better now, “That men should have access to all privileges and responsibilities of full citizenship including the right to vote and hold assembles.” How sad that fifty years later we had achieved neither of those goals.

Ed had struggled to his knees but moments after he got there Amy’s protégé was on his back with her chubby fingers down his throat. He gagged violently so she removed them from his mouth and worked her hand back to his other entrance.

“That men, like all people, must have the privilege of ownership and self-destination to feel secure in themselves. “ That line has always been a joke around school. Something about men and the word secure gave girls the giggles. By now Amy had slathered the vibrator in a thick lube and she attempted to remove my panties. For a moment I stayed on my knees, ass bones locked firmly to my heels. Sandra caught on moments later and she lifted me by the head while placing a foot on my left ankle. Amy had no trouble slipping the panties off then.

“I have a girlfriend, you know,” I cried out desperately. “So does Eduardo. Our girlfriends are going to make you pay. All of you.”

“Shut up. You’re too fat and ugly to have a girlfriend,” said Sandra. I don’t know if she had seen through my bluff of if she had vetted me. At any rate, the girls took her at her word. My asshole now exposed, Amy placed a cold but firm hand on my shoulder as the other one lubed up my asshole.

“Do you want me to warm you up?” Amy asked, her voice almost a coo in my ear.

“Yes” I moaned. What am I doing? I asked myself.

Her finger was already inside me, exploring the tender flesh. It was not the first time I had been penetrated unwillingly, but it never got easier. The initial pain anyway. I have learned to relax after that. “Keep going,” she commanded, rubbing my prostate.

“That. That… ung” I moaned with pain and pleasure (and a host of other emotions and sensations). Sandra’s firm slap to the face brought me back. “That men have the right to a fair trial with all the privileges of a woman.” That right had actually been gained, somewhat. When men met their accused rapist in court he still was obligated to wear the clothes he wore the night of the assault, but he was no longer obligated to allow the jury access to his anus to determine extent of damage (but allowing it certainly wouldn’t hurt his case).

The vibrating monster was against my back again, cold as regret and buzzing loudly. Amy pulled me to my feet and with little difficulty or hesitation she righted the dildo beneath me and started pulling down on my thighs.

Ed meanwhile had become the subject of a different amusement. The women enjoying his company decided to play a game. Anna, the house dog, a mutt with the brains of a lab and the body of a mastiff, loved two things: peanut butter and tug-of-war. As they had done with her since the animal’s infancy, the sisters brought Anna out for a snack. Amy’s protégé grabbed the peanut butter from the pantry and slathered Ed’s abused ass and remarkably petite cock in it.

Bored and ravenous the dog approached the squirming, crying boy. Ed let out a girlish giggle as the broad, gritty tongue first scraped a long line across his asshole, but he giggles soon turned to howls of pain.

This concern was quickly replaced as Anna discovered that the groves and angles of the chastity cage contained far more peanut butter than the smooth lubed ass. Up till this point Ed had been on all fours but as the dog started to tug on his constrained package like a toy, he flipped over to try and defend himself. His screams cut above the racket like the squeals of a newborn pig.

“Don’t fight her,” the girls cautioned, “if she thinks you want to play she’ll tug your dick and balls right off.”

Ed tried to move with the creature but for one terrifying moment she showed her teeth and jerked her head to the right, closing down on his balls with her front teeth. Ed actually shut up his squealing for a moment and concentrated on going with the dog’s movements. He sighed relief when the dog released his package and resumed licking him.

Meanwhile, I had begun to cry. It wasn't just the pain, although it was also the pain. It was humiliation, desperation. It was disappointment at these shallow, cruel people. Also it was horror that I had become the boy I never wanted to be.  The thick, hard plastic finally breached my straining hole and my ass wrapped itself around the cock. I could feel the vibration throughout my body, from my toes to my teeth. The force was unbelievable and the thing was hardly in.

I blinked open my eyes to see a blonde who had given me a coquettish smile earlier. She brushed the hair out of my eyes with one hand while the other took my jaw firmly. “Hey, you’re okay,” she said, smiling an open, honest smile. She wiped the tears from my eyes. “Just relax for a minute. It’s not so bad.”

I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. Anal always made me a bit emotional. The skinny blonde moved one hand to my shoulder and one to my chest and helped ease me down onto the dildo. “That’s it,” she said, and then her eyes went a bit unfocused as she pressed harder to my chest. A queer smile spread across her lips as she felt her way down my body. “No way” her lips mouthed as I strained to take the crazy rattling beast deeper into my guts. “Come feel,” she said, “you can feel it through his body.”

Part 3