College Initiations

In Chapter 4, we see the sorority girls excitedly preparing for the initiation ceremony, while Casper in his dorm room grapples with self-doubt and the pressure to perform.

Chapter 4 – Prelude

In a darkened conference room of the Phi-U-K sorority house, new silicone dildos ring the edge of a large conference table, still partly in their original packaging. Their boxes bear banners like “Girl’s Best Friend”, “Size DOES Matter!”, and “Self-Care is Healthcare (smiley face)”. Each dildo stands vertically upright, its base wedged in its box for support. The plastic penises are large, realistic, thickly veined, pink or brown shafts.

The penises jut upwards in proud erection.

All penises are stupid, especially plastic ones. Even so, these penises are at full attention. Freshmen girls surround the table, each in front of her assigned dildo. The girls whisper and giggle. But they are fully clothed, not girls preparing for intimate activities. Something is not right.

The penises are puzzled, confused.

Each girl grips a thin wooden paint stirrer, those little sticks that hang from the rim of hardware store buckets. Paint company brand slogans are visible on the sticks. “Mix It up!” “Stir Up Some Fun!” “Catch those Drips!”. What do these implements portend?

The penises are nervous, apprehensive.

A senior Phi-U-K member demonstrates proper technique. Swing from the wrist, not the arm. Use the edge to tease and caress. A light tap to stimulate. A firm tap for emphasis. A resounding slap to guide and discipline. And, sparingly, a hard strike to punish.

The penises are alarmed!

The younger girls mimic her movements in the air. Then they address the penises, shyly at first. Soon hesitant movements become confident. They swing from the wrist, finding their rhythm. The girls enjoy the exercise.

The penises do not enjoy.

The senior commands the students to finish with all their might. The room thrums with staccato beats. Hard blows rain upon the silicone shafts, now marred by red welts. Wooden splinters fly as paddles snap. Applause and laughter erupt, a chorus of approval.

The girls look forward to the initiation ceremony.

~ ~ ~

Across campus in a dorm room, a mirror reflects a naked boy standing before it. The mirror regularly witnesses the boy’s frequent acts of self-gratification. Is the boy preparing to masturbate?

The mirror does not judge; it merely reflects the pathetic desperation of his needs.

But tonight, the boy does not stimulate his penis. Instead, the boy strikes a series of poses. He flexes his underdeveloped biceps, bristles with challenge, sneers with supercilious disdain, leers with performative lust. Each gesture intended to project manly force and confidence. But then seeing himself, his bravado crumbles.

The mirror reflects his gnawing self-doubt.

The boy focusses on the reflection of his penis. He turns slightly, seeking the most favorable angle of view. At every angle the penis appears small. But the sight awakens the familiar ache.

The penis in the mirror begins to erect.

The boy remembers the injunction to conserve his male essence for the trial to come. He struggles, but the need for self-care, for relief of anxiety, is even stronger than the need for gratification, and he yields.

The mirror reflects the surrender, indifferently.

In post-orgasmic clarity he vows not to masturbate again before the ceremony. He resumes his posing, and the mirror reflects the vulnerability beneath a facade of confidence.

The boy does not look forward to the initiation ceremony.

~ ~ ~ continued ~ ~ ~