The house was easy to find, on a lonely road a mile out of town. The perimeter of the large three-story colonial was bathed in halogen-blue security light. No other houses for a quarter mile and a good five miles from Emory University, which seemed strange for a frat-house. The stylish logo was outlined in neon above the large oak front door. "Omega Theta Delta Epsilon Pi," Kenneth said to himself, matching the sign to his illegible hand writing. "Them bitches have lots of money for a place like this."
Ken's old Chevy Malibu puttered into the surprisingly large asphalt parking lot, where ten or so expensive vehicles sat unattended. He rolled into a space at the far end, before the engine conked out in a cloud of blue smoke. His old and beat-up car stuck out in the parking lot as much as the house did in the middle of the cotton fields. The young girl he spoke with said they would tip him well if they hired him, that he would receive one-hundred dollars just to come out and talk with them about what they needed done.
The wraparound porch reminded him of a picture given to him as a child before his father passed away; that of a large Georgian mansion where, as family folk lore had it, he was almost killed for being a young black man in a white neighborhood at night. The doorbell chimed that old Big-Ben song, as his momma used to call it, and a short, attractive blonde girl answered the door. She was a pretty thing dressed in a medical outfit and introduced herself as Jackie. Upon entering the vestibule she asked Ken to take his shoes off and put on house slippers, which he did without objection. They proceeded directly to the dining room, where he was greeted by two other young women.
"You ladies sure have a fine house here. Mahogany hardwood floors and antiques is not what I expected in a frat-house," he said with a smile.
Brittney, who was unsurprisingly also white, reminded Ken of Courtney Cox from the series Friends, except she was tall, perhaps close to six feet, and heavy around the waist. To her right sat a girl named Tracy, a nineteen year old beauty. She was the best looking of the three, her large breasts pressing tightly against her button-down blouse, revealing a cleavage he found difficult to overlook. Sliding a hundred dollar bill across the cherry-wood table, Brittney took on formal poise as if ready to conduct the interview. Ken put the bill in his top pocket and leaned toward the table ready to hear what she had to say.
"Well, Kenneth, Jackie spoke with you on the phone and was purposefully vague because our sorority is a closed group- very private- and we don't want to spread rumors. What we do here is of our own concern. Do you understand that? What we talk about here can go not further than this room?"
"I understand that," confirmed Kenneth."What I'm looking for is honest work, no troubles."
"Good. Now, we had a last minute cancellation and need to hire a man of certain attributes for our initiation party tomorrow night. My understanding is that you are available, should the terms be reasonable?" Brittany continued, having received a nod from Ken that he was, indeed, free."Well, then, what we are looking for is a well-endowed man to have sex with our new recruits. This year there are four of them and your identity, and theirs, shall remain autonomous."
Ken interrupted, "Wait a minute. You want me to have sex for money? I never done that before. You might have the wrong man for that. I thought you might want some household repairs done or something like that." He shook his head, surprised by their offer. "As you see, I ain't no ladies man."
He noticed both Jackie and Tracy nodded in agreement, whereas Brittney maintained her business attitude and pressed forward.
"Kenneth, you come highly recommended and, provided our intelligence is sound, we shall offer you five hundred dollars for four hours work. That's one-hundred and twenty-five dollars an hour. How does that sound to you?"
Jokingly, Tracy added, "But the back door sticks a little, if you might..."
Jackie chimed in, saying, "I spoke with an old girlfriend of yours. Her name is Saundra. She said you weren't all that good in bed, but you had a really big dick." Reading the expression of hurt on his face, she apologized with a quick, "Sorry."
"Now, you date a girl for four months, you'd expect she'd a said I was good in the sack because she kept coming back," said Ken.
"Well," said Brittany, "considering the short notice we won't hold your performance against you. What we need, as part of our initiation of these sophomores, is your large penis. That is, if you have one. That's all. I assume you do?" After a brief pause, and not receiving a reply, she continued, "And there is also another requirement."
Eyes opening wide, as if waiting for the catch, Kenneth raised an eyebrow.
Tracy said, "We have this device."
"It's a restraint," said Jackie. "One we use for this purpose only."
"It hides your identity and you cannot see the girls," Brittany said. "It's sort of a specialized restraint made for us many, many years ago. It's what they call an iron madden, except it's constructed of steel,wood and silver. It's surprisingly comfortable."
"I don't know about that," said Ken shaking his head. "One of those things where I can't move like I'm in hand cuffs? Wow, not at all sure about that at all," said Ken apprehensively.
"Perhaps we should show you," said Tracy beginning to get up, but she was gently pushed back down by Brittany.
Looking at the girls, Ken thought about his girlfriend, Tina, at home, that she would kill him if he took this gig. He'd just have to tell her. There was no hiding from her. She would find out because she always found out about his questionable antics.
"Look girls, it's like this. I need the money, but this all feels so peculiar to me. With all you fine-bread white girls wanting some black meat. You'll have to find somebody else, I think."
"Don't get me wrong," said Brittany, "Your dick is not for me. I'm a lesbian, if you must know. Jackie is a doctoral student. So, it's not for us."
"I don't care. I'll tell you. I'm one of the sophomores. I'm the one that has to do it," Tracy said as she pressed her chest against the table so Ken could get a good look at her breasts.
Ken thought he'd be a fool to pass up on slipping his dick into such a bodacious white girl. Truth be known, Kenneth had never been with a white woman. Not so much as he had any aversion to such a thing as it was that an opportunity never presented itself. What's more, he'd never had sex with a woman as attractive as Tracy either, so cute was she. He considered himself far short of pretty-boy status, as did most of the women he'd dated.
"Tell you what," said Brittany with confidence. "How about I make Tracy here give you a blow job. Would that make things easier for you? That way, we could make sure you're qualified for what we need and no harm done."
Ken pressed against his top shirt pocket, feeling the crisp bill crinkle at his touch. A hundred bucks and a blow job from Tracy. How could he say no? And what Tina didn't know... He resolved to spend part of the six hundred bucks on her.
"Alright, then. Let's do it. Show me this thing first."
***
The basement of the house was stupendously luxuriant. The woodwork was so well crafted Kenneth couldn't believe his eyes. Fine walnut, cheery and ebony woods of the finest caliber. The fireplace hearth, a piece of fine art in and of itself, displayed carved scenes of cherubs and nymphs frolicking in a cotton field behind the house, whose image was outlined in semiprecious stones. They walked into a room set with church pews facing a thick translucent glass alter and stone table, with a large brass and iron throne set behind it.
"Man-o-man, what do we have here?" asked Kenneth rhetorically. "This place is a piece of art like some kind of a ancient church. I don't know any carpenters living today who could do such fine work."
Brittany said, "This room was finished in 1934. There are three other similar rooms at our satellite sorority houses at other universities of substance. This is where we conduct our ritual practices, including indoctrination."
"That's amazing!" said Kenneth.
"You should feel honored we are showing this to you. Few men have been permitted to do so, including the men we contract with to help us preform certain rituals," Brittany said with reverence.
The group of four moved to the far side of the room where an exquisitely crafted coffin, or so it looked at first glance, sat atop a granite table, its top an amalgam of layered burl redwood, flame walnut and coco-bolo woods. Brittany pressed a button under the table and the paneled top slowly slid open toward the bottom, folding itself into a box at the base, revealing a red-velvet lined interior. Another press of a button and the floor of the receptacle gently raised and lowered, showing how the device could raise and lower its occupant accordingly.
Leaning next to the table was an an elaborately etched insert constructed of quarter-inch sterling silver. Brittany and Jackie together picked up the plate and placed it snugly onto the top of the eight-sided casket. The piece covered slightly more than the lower three-quarters of the opening. Once in place and latched, the polished metal lit the ceiling with reflected light, and more clearly displayed a Coke-can sized hole.
Noticing Ken's expression, Jackie said, "This is where the penis sticks out."
The other open space was obviously where the man's head would be, Kenneth assumed.
"Wait a minute now. This is creepy as fuck. You want me to get into a coffin and stick my dick through that hole? Is that the trip? You want me to get into that thing?" A sense of trepidation ran through him, thinking how these girls could bury him alive, if they had the druthers to do so. "I don't think so. That's not for me." He fervently shook his head.
Brittany said, " It's completely safe, Kenneth. There is noting to be afraid of: it's not a coffin. It's a well crafted restraint, is all. Your arms and legs aren't bound, but there is little room to move."
Tracy chimed in. "There is another cut-out for a girl and I had to lay in there last week. It was actually quite comfortable and orgasmic, in fact. I had..."
Brittany cut her off with the wave of her hand, showing her disapproval concerning her disclosure.
