Enfasis On Ricky Ch 01

I need to give credit to PericulumFabula17 and their story "Marti Ch. 01: The Streak". I really enjoyed that story and it became the seed from which this one grew. Rather than try to obfuscate the fact that I was inspired by their ideas and writing, I have intentionally left some aspects of the setting intact, even a few sentences. I hope that you will see this not as laziness or plagiarism, but as an honest attempt to give credit where credit is due.

I contacted PericulumFabula17 to ask their permission to use some ideas from that story as a starting point for my own, and they graciously said to go for it.

I encourage you to give that story a read and thank the author.

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I was two weeks into my freshman year at North Carolina Tech when I went to my first Friday night Beta house party. I'd already pledged and had been accepted at Sigma Zeta Iota, a process that wasn't nearly as harsh as you might think. Sororities exist to help us make important connections and launch us into successful lives after college. Sure, there was an initiation. We had to strip to our underwear and have our bums paddled as punishment for losing various games. But some would have you believe that the main reason for sorority initiation is to get girls totally naked and take pictures of them as embarrassed and humiliated as possible. That is absolutely not true.

As I was about to learn, getting girls naked and taking pictures of them as embarrassed and humiliated as possible happens to be the exact mission statement of the Friday night parties at Beta house.

The home of the bad boys on campus, Beta Delta Nu was often referred to as NC Tech's "Animal House." The Beta boys were cute, they served free alcohol, and their Friday night parties were absolutely wild, off the rails. You never knew what to expect at a Beta party. Every Saturday, the place stank of stale beer, the floor was sticky in places, the kitchen was just ghastly, and the bathrooms were worse but, when you entered the Beta house on a Friday night, it was as if you left civilization behind and entered into a different world, a world of insanity, hedonism, free alcohol, and high octane partying.

What did it say about us Sigmas that this was our brother fraternity? Let me be clear. It didn't mean that we were all party sluts. It's true that we happened to be the easiest sorority to get into, but that didn't mean WE were easy. Our sisters tended to have a little less money and connections and we were proud to make up for it by being more fun. We did have the reputation of being the sluttiest sorority, possibly because our bikini car-wash fundraisers featured the skimpiest bikinis and because several of us were regulars at the Beta parties, but we looked out for each other and, for the most part, kept our clothes on at the Friday night parties. Our less than perfect reputation did not mean we were all party sluts.

I certainly wasn't a party slut. Before I walked into Beta house for the first time, I didn't even know what a party slut was.

As we approached the front door of Beta house, there was a guy asking for "donations", but because of our gender, we were just waved inside.

Beta house almost always raised the most of any fraternity or sorority each month. That was because each male attendee to their Friday night parties was asked to make a donation. For that donation, there was always some organized event like a wet t-shirt contest or an oil-wrestling bout involving girls in bikinis or sometimes just their underwear. The Beta boys liked to say that they did a lot of good, while they were being really bad.

I'd been warned about this. Many of the girls at the Friday night parties were apparently regulars. They liked the hedonistic atmosphere, they willingly signed up to be in the organized events and they knew what they were in for. All party attendees were explicitly prohibited from bringing in cell phones and cameras, but there was always one roving Beta boy with a video camera sending a feed to huge 8x14 foot projector screen on the wall to the right of the entrance. That guy's job was to always be there to capture the best angle whenever a girl showed some skin. Girls that enjoyed a bit of exhibitionism knew that whatever they did would be seen and enjoyed by everyone in attendance, but Beta house was clear that nothing would end up on the web to haunt them the rest of their days.

After attending that first party, I was amazed at how many girls were really into it. Those are the girls that I came to think of as party sluts.

When I walked in the door, I was immediately disoriented by the rowdy cacophony of it. I was oblivious to how several guys immediately checked me out. I was with Lorna, a Sigma junior. Someone handed us drinks as soon as we came in and several guys greeted Lorna by name. Lorna told me to sip slowly. I later learned that this was the fraternity's signature libation, a knock-your-britches-off house punch made with sugar, powdered flavoring, straight grain alcohol, and ice, specially blended to help coeds make bad life choices.

When you passed through the entrance-way of Beta house, you entered the main hall. It was two stories tall with a stairway climbing up the left wall leading to a walkway along the far wall. It was an impressive old house that was home for as many as 35 frat boys at any given time. The main hall was the size of a small gymnasium and was big enough for a crowd of over 150 partiers.

About 15-20 minutes later, when Lorna was chatting with someone she knew, a guy came up to me holding a couple of full cups and offered one to me. "Ready for a refill?"

We both had to lean in and rotate our heads to speak in the other's ear to be heard. "Um, sure!" I said, draining the last gulp of my first cup and noticing that I was already starting to feel a pleasant buzz.

"I'm Sebastian," he said. "Ever played beer pong?"

"Ricky," I said, shaking his hand. "That's where you try to get a ping-pong ball into the other person's cup and whoever loses has to drink, right?"

"You got it," he confirmed and gave me a warm smile as he gently took my elbow and started steering me toward a table at the back of the room.

"Whoa there!" Lorna reached over and grabbed my arm away from him. "Ricky here is a brand new Sigma. Nobody's going to enfasize her tonight."

"You're no fun!" Sebastian replied, then he grinned at me. "You should come watch a game or two." Then he walked off, looking for another target I guess.

"What did you mean 'emphasize' me?" I asked.

"Is that your second cup already?" Lorna glanced at my cup and then gave me a stern look. "I told you to be careful. Drinking any more than a few sips of this stuff is NOT being careful."

I let her take my cup away, then she continued, "I didn't say 'emphasize'. I said 'enfasize'. You see the wall above the railing at the top of the stairs?"

Looking up and across the large room, I could see that the wall she was referring to was covered in little colorful squares and there were different colored ribbons hanging next to each one.

"That's the ENF Wall," Lorna continued. "The best way to avoid the ENF Wall is to avoid drinking too much of this stuff." She put my full cup on the table next to her.

I didn't know what an "ENF" was, but not wanting to look stupid, I refrained from asking Lorna and just decided to take her advice about the drinking.

Lorna suggested that I should watch a few games of beer pong before I decide to join one, so we walked over to the table where a game had just started. We'd arrived well after the party had started so it was already very rowdy. The girl and the guy who were playing both looked very drunk, but it quickly became clear that he was much better at holding his alcohol.

She was quite pretty and she looked like she was having a lot of fun. There were two other very drunk-looking girls behind her yelling encouragement. When she took off her shoes after he sunk a shot, I thought she was just trying to get more grounded so she could aim better, but when she took off her socks after he sunk another shot, and more people crowded around, I put it together that this must be strip beer pong.

She lost. The guy was very good, sinking a ball at almost every turn. She was down to just her bra and panties before she sunk her first shot. When he had to remove his shoes, she and her friends jumped up and down and celebrated. I was aghast that she seemed oblivious to what was about to happen.

It seemed that everyone at the party was now crowding around to watch. The cheering was getting more and more raucous.

Then he sunk another shot and she had to take off her bra. I had to cover my ears it was so loud. She still could have just walked away right then. Her bra and panties were a bit skimpy, but if they wouldn't give her the rest of her clothes back, they were nothing you'd get arrested for wearing in public. To my amazement, she reached behind her back, unclasped her bra and pulled it off. She did her best to cover her large, firm tits while the crowd cheered and jeered for several minutes. She stood there looking embarrassed, but in my opinion, not nearly worried enough. She was the poster girl for the perils of drinking alcohol.

"It's comeback time!" someone yelled. And then, "yeah, you can still beat him!" And, "there's no way he can make a shot while looking at your beautiful tits!"

I couldn't believe it. I wanted to say to Lorna that surely that was the end of the game. They didn't expect her to strip completely naked in front of everyone. But there was no way she would have heard me. And any uncertainty I had was dispelled moments later when the drunk girl succumbed to all the cheering and took up the ping-pong ball for another round.

She missed badly.

He didn't.

If the cheering was loud before, it went insane after that.

The guy with the video camera had it pointed right at her. A couple of people were pointing super bright headlamps at her as well. I glanced at the big screen and there she was. The camera was zoomed in on her face and tits, capturing her facial expression as her predicament was sinking in.

The poor girl was taking in how she was now the focus of every one of well over 100 drunk horny guys who were either gawping directly at her or they were watching the very large video image pan down her almost naked body. She suddenly looked very embarrassed and vulnerable. The crowd gave her space and kept cheering. they started chanting "Panties Off! Panties Off!" You could see her looking around trying to think of how to get out of it, but the crushing roar of cheering and chanting was too much for her. She finally gave up, hooked her thumbs into her panties and pulled them down, letting them drop to her ankles. She then stood there completely naked, looking embarrassed beyond belief, trying to cover herself.

I'll give Beta house credit that nobody in the crowd was holding up a cellphone, taking video. Beta house simply told their guests that, if the events that went on at their parties were captured and posted online, girls would stop coming. If anyone was caught breaking that one house rule, they would be responsible for the possibility that girls would stop coming. Every guy in attendance would be encouraged to beat the living shit out of them.

Then I noticed that, in addition to the video guy, there was one guy with a very old-looking camera. Apparently he was also exempt from the rule. The camera was a Polaroid and every once in a while he'd snap a shot and a square paper photo would emerge.

I suddenly realized what the little squares on the wall behind the railing were.

The now completely naked girl was doing a poor job of covering her tits and pussy with her hands. Being the center of so much attention, with everyone hooting and cheering for her, she was blushing intensely and actually laughing nervously. Someone who knew her had started chanting her name, and soon the whole room was chanting, "Em-i-ly! Em-i-ly!". Eventually, she abandoned trying to hide herself with her hands and put her arms up in the air with a weak "woohoo!". A big "WOOHOO" from the crowd echoed her. One of the Beta boys walked up from behind her and took hold of her arm above the elbow. He proceeded to guide her through the crowd saying in a loud voice "make way, naked girl coming through!" The guy with the Polaroid camera bent down and picked up the girl's panties.

I then realized what the different colored ribbons hanging down from the little squares were.

There were too many people crowding around her for everyone to get a good look, but the video guy was capturing her from every angle, occasionally zooming in to get close-up shots, so her naked humiliation was projected, larger than life on the screen where everyone could see.

Emily was led to the base of the stairs. The Polaroid guy then took another photograph of her, managing to capture another nuance of her embarrassment. I realized that I was witnessing what must be the most profoundly humiliating experience of this girl's life. No matter how drunk she had been 15 minutes ago, the full impact of what had just happened was hitting her now while the crowd of onlookers cheered and hooted.

Then she was shown the Polaroid pictures one by one.

The cheering was finally dying down. Lorna turned to me and said, "he's now explaining that those pictures will be pinned to the wall on permanent display for everyone to see." She paused as the girl looked pleadingly into the photographer's face. "And now he's explaining the alternative."

The alternative was that the pictures she had just been looking at, like the video footage, would be put in a drawer and would only ever be viewed by Beta house residents. In return she had to agree to smile and pose for one full-frontal nude Polaroid photo by the wall holding up a hammer in one hand and her panties in the other. Her panties and that one photo would be on permanent display in Beta house, pinned together on the ENF Wall.

The naked girl walked over to the wall and someone brought out a hammer.

"Oh god!" I said as Lorna and I walked away from the spectacle. "How do they get away with this?"

Lorna gave me a sideways glance. "They're doing a service to those girls."

"What? How do you figure that?"

"At this moment, in frat houses all over this country, girls exactly like that one are getting stupidly drunk and tricked out of their clothes. In how many of them do you think those girls end up in a bedroom where they are then serially spit-roasted by all the boys in the house?" She raised her eyebrows at me and continued when I shrugged. "All of them. That's how many. All of them except this one."

"That's an interesting way to look at it."

"Look. There's no question that was really humiliating and that girl is going to have a very bad day tomorrow, remembering all this. But you'll have to look closely at her picture on the ENF Wall to see who it is. Her picture will look an awful lot like all the other ones up there and all the boys here won't be thinking about her in a week, they'll be wondering who the next girl to get enfasized will be. Meanwhile, there's no viral video for her to explain to future employers. That girl is never going to be that stupid ever again."

I bobbed my head, weighing her words as we walked.

Then Lorna grinned. "And were you not entertained?"

That's how I learned that the real specialty of Beta house wasn't the wet t-shirt contests, the oil wrestling and the party sluts that flashed their tits. No, the thing that consistently brought horny college boys out every Friday night was the girls who didn't know what they were in for. Thanks to the lack of online evidence for what went on at the Friday night parties, there were always a few girls there who didn't know what might happen if they weren't careful. Once every month or so, a girl like Emily would get a little too drunk on the free booze and, having been nudged, badgered and cajoled into making an ill-advised bet, she would lose big and end up having to take off all of her clothes. Beta house knew how to turn those few terribly embarrassing minutes of a girl's life into a spectacle that would get a full house roaring and cheering.

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I'd learned that a girl had to be VERY careful at a Beta house party, but I had to admit that they were a lot of fun. A little over a year later, I learned that a girl ALWAYS had to be careful stepping foot in Beta house, even if there wasn't a party going on.

This is the story of how I got MY picture on the ENF Wall.

I had successfully stayed out of trouble my freshman year. I'd been to quite a few Friday night Beta house parties and I'd seen several naked people. Actually, it soon became clear that Beta boys got naked just as often as the girls at their parties. Apparently they went by the law of averages. They played strip beer pong, strip poker, strip dice, strip darts, traded stupid naked dares or made naked forfeit bets whenever possible and they were more than happy to give girls the best possible odds of winning. They lost all the time and anyone who'd been to a half-dozen of their parties barely paid any attention to a stark naked Beta boy careening about. But once a month or so some girl would drink a bit too much, make a poor choice of party game and become the focus of everyone's attention for a brief time as they lost every shred of both their clothing and their dignity.

I never got used to seeing a girl experience that. As I said, most of us Sigma girls weren't what I considered party sluts, but we did have that reputation (or for being adventurous and fun, depending on who you were talking to), so that kind of thing wasn't supposed to bother me. But for whatever reason, no matter how much public nudity I witnessed, the idea of it being me naked in front of a big crowd was terrifying. I wasn't a complete prude. I was good with putting on a skimpy bikini and washing some dude's car for the bi-annual Sigma car-wash fundraiser. I knew guys thought I was pretty and I quite liked the kind of exhibitionism that teased nudity, but in my mind that was a far cry from actually getting naked.

It may surprise you, but as I started my sophomore year, it was still the case that only one boy, a high school boyfriend, had ever seen me completely naked. I was determined that the next time a boy saw me naked, it wouldn't be because I'd been convinced to take off all my clothes at a frat party. Whoever that next lucky boy was going to be, I knew that I'd have to expand my social horizons beyond Beta house parties, and I was determined to start doing that.

The problem was that I quite liked hanging out with the Beta boys. They were our brother fraternity, so we tended to socialize with them in groups outside of the parties. They were actually all pretty nice guys and I got the sense that they liked me more than the other girls. But after going to only a few Friday night parties, I knew that I wouldn't ever date any of them. Still, I naively thought that liking me might mean they wouldn't want to humiliate me like all the other girls on the ENF Wall. I was better at being "one of the guys" than the other Sigma girls, and I figured that they wouldn't enfasize "one of the guys".

Then I did something REALLY stupid. My parents' farm is in Missouri and at the time, the youngest of my brothers was a senior at Missouri Eastern State University. He was a star running back of the Wolf Pack and I, along with my whole family, was really proud of him. NC Tech was at an away game playing the Wolf Pack, so I couldn't help myself. I wore my Wolf Pack jersey.

The reason we always went to Beta house to watch the Sunday games was because they used their projector in the main hall, that and they always let us girls drink their booze free of charge. That Sunday, there were 17 Beta boys on the couches facing the projector along with a couple of guys visiting for the weekend and five of us Sigmas. The two visiting boys didn't have jerseys, but everyone else other than me was wearing the green and gold of North Carolina Tech.