Bluejean Sorority

Ma'am Part Seven - Blue Jean Sorority

I was sharing a room with my sister while attending school and I was hanging out down at the private tennis courts at her apartment when I happened upon these two freshman girls trying to get a game going. They weren't doing very well at tennis so I suggested maybe we should all get out of the hot sun for a cold drink and they agreed. When I inquired why they were trying to play tennis in tight blue jeans instead of something more comfortable they looked at each other sort of sheepishly and then explained to me that they had been pledging to enter a stuffy sorority and that shorts and skirts were not 'allowed' for the entire term. I thought maybe that was pretty strict but I was not prepared for what happened next.

They quietly explained that each girl who wanted to join the sorority first had to go around and collect one 'cum-shot' from each member of the varsity football team on the seat of her blue jeans, and that the girl had to be wearing the jeans while this whole collection process was taking place!

The French, God bless 'em, call this an act of frottage, which simply meant the lucky lad got to rub himself off or jack himself off any way he wanted, just as long as he came all over her butt, and she had to keep her jeans on the entire time, to prevent accidents, sort of as a modern chastity device. It was cruel in a way and also kinky in a way, like getting laid but not really. Reagan would have loved it. The ultimate in safe sex.

The varsity guys were very well behaved and took it in good stride. In fact, they had been 'coached' through the procedure the previous term, and had known what to expect, generally they were looking forward to putting these new unsuspecting freshman girls through their paces, and this of course was unknown by the recipients. The 'active' sorority sisters kept a close eye on the proceedings, just to make sure things didn't get out of hand.

There were twenty boys on the varsity squad. Each girl had to go up to each player ask him sweetly - no smart remarks - or he would notify her sorority sister that so-and-so pledge was 'not cooperative' and she would find the hickory spanking paddle waiting for her when she got back to the house. The girl and the jock would find a quiet spot in the frat house and he was permitted to feel her up any way he wanted, through her street clothes only. No rough stuff allowed. If he could not conduct himself as a gentleman the deal was off, and he wouldn't be allowed to 'play' in the game any further.

At first, the girls were terrified of the team. They thought they would wind up getting raped. That was the whole idea - to make the freshman girls so scared they'd practically pee in their pants - only to discover later on that the whole thing was just a harmless prank.

The pledging girls had one month to obtain the necessary cum. With twenty guys on the varsity squad each girl would have to ask a different boy every day of the week - weekends were off limits in the event of parents visiting - and by the end of the thirty days there had better be twenty dried cum stains on the backs of her jeans or else - you guessed it - that old paddle again.

Most of the freshman girls wore old, tattered jeans for the occasion but one feminist-type, apparently none too keen on the idea of having twenty horny guys dump their disgusting boy scum on her denim-clad posteriors decided she was gonna' have a little fun with the varsity squad. So she took the bus downtown and picked up a brand new pair of classic Levi's - you know the kind I'm talking about - starched so stiff they practically stand up by themselves - and then she just 'forgot' to launder them first, sort of by mistake.

I really felt sorry for those poor bastards! Rubbing up against her hot little butt in those stiff, starchy jeans must have hurt like hell. Like trying to bring yourself to orgasm on a fresh Brillo pad! Sounds like a touch of S&M to me. You know those darn femi-nazis. All done in good fun, I'm sure.

Then there was a private ceremony where each pledge got to parade before her active sisters wearing nothing but her skin-tight jeans liberally peppered with newly-acquired cum stains all over her butt and thighs, worn proudly like medals of honor, to the accompaniment of shouts and cheers, as each girl stood on a chair to have each of her cum stains counted by her active sister, and woe betide any girl who came up short of her twenty medallions - the paddle was always looming nearby as a constant reminder of who was in charge - but it would not be brought into service that night because every freshman who pledged the sorority passed the 'exam' with flying colors, even down to the 'sadistic sadie' resplendent in her stiff, but cum-stained, starchy levis.

But wait - the fun was not yet over - home 'cumming' parade was in two weeks. The freshman girls were required to attend the parade, and you guessed it - each pledge had to wear her cum-stained jeans in public. Talk about making a fashion statement. One can just imagine the strange looks they got from some of the visitors gathered around there.

But the 'blue jean' sex was fun, there was no harm done, nobody got hurt and it taught each girl a valuable lesson in humility and servitude, which would no doubt enter into play later on in life as most of those sorority girls married guys who would later become wealthy doctors or lawyers and as wives of professional men they would wind up having to dress and act very conservatively, and their elder sorority sisters knew this, and so this little stunt they pulled was just seen as another way to let their hair down, enjoy their school days and just try to live their brief four year stint of 'on-campus' life to its fullest.

As for myself, well we never did get back to our tennis game but I couldn't leave until I found out what happened to the radical 'femi-nazi' chick. Did she ever pass her initiation ceremony? The two girls just laughed and retorted "with flying colors", apparently the quarterback of the varsity squad was so taken aback by the that little stunt she pulled that they eventually became good friends, began dating and ultimately wound up getting married after they both graduated.

More like "flying by the seat of your pants" than "with flying colors", I later mused.

I never saw either of the two freshman girls again, but it really didn't matter because they gave me something I could take with me for the rest of my life, and that was this story.

I had always wondered what kind of campus hijinks might be going on behind those frat & sorrority house doors. Doors which remained conveniently closed to the inquisitive eyes of curiosity seekers (such as myself!) who wondered if all those thick hardwood paddles we saw hanging on the frat house walls, and the scaled-down smaller (but just as hard!) paddles hanging on the sorrority house walls, were being so prominantly displayed just for decoration or if they were ever actually brought into service. This story actually happened, but for obvious reasons, we are not at liberty to discuss the name of the school but we can tell you that it happened over thirty years ago so everyone involved has long since moved on.