Hi Tessie,
Well, after a lot of hemming and hawing, I decided to take
the plunge and submit to the initiation for Delta Kappa Phi. Originally, I was
desperate to belong to a sorority – any sorority – but working with Ms. H has
given me a new confidence I never knew I had. I don’t really feel like I need
to depend on others for my self-esteem as much any more. It’s perhaps the
greatest benefit of the lifestyle she has inadvertently introduced to me.
So why, then, would I decide to join them? I suppose it was
strictly for the experience of the initiation rites. It is a very kinky concept,
really, the idea of a bunch of young women gathering together to gang up on
one, and beat the hell out of her, all the time giggling and laughing about it
like a gaggle of elementary school girls. I suppose a psychologist would say
there was a healthy dose of subliminal lesbianism going on there, or that the
violation of the initiate’s buttocks by a paddle is somehow symbolic of rape,
or some such crap. Personally, I just needed to do this to try to better
understand the submissive experience so, as a dominant, I can better play into
that mindset. You know me – I can’t do anything halfway. I suppose I could have
just gone to Ms. H and asked her ‘initiate’ me, but frankly, I’m still too
intimidated by her. I think I would chicken out, and I would not want to disappoint her. So I
figured that it would be easier offering my backside to a bunch of giggling
amateurs.
Well, as it turned out, I seriously underestimated them. I
am an artist, and they say a true artist must suffer for their art, but holy
crap! Tessie, it hurt SO bad. I never dreamed a simple plank of wood could
inflict such pain. They made me strip down to my bra and panties, then screamed
obscenities in my face for half an hour, then made me bend over a high stool
and plead with them to paddle me to tears.
The head girl, Emma, took the first swing, and I fairly
shrieked. If I’d been smart, I would have given myself a treatment with a
hairbrush prior to this whole business as a warm-up, to desensitize the skin a
bit. But, no, I didn’t think to do that. People think that the longer a beating
continues, the more it hurts. But I discovered that the first strokes applied
to an unprepared rear are the most painful. The flesh is at its most vulnerable
and sensitive. I think my yelp surprised them all, but it did little to
dissuade them.
Emma handed the paddle to another girl, Anita, who leaned
down and whispered to me that her boyfriend had an appointment in the OCS last
fall, and he told her how mean I’d been to him, and that I’d even taken the
liberty of ushering him out of the office with a sharp butt smack after his
punishment. (Yeah, I started doing that). Now she was going to take his revenge
for him.
Then she wound up as far back as she could reach and
walloped me as hard as she was able. She let me have a dozen and I was beside
myself by the time she’d finished. I had tears in my eyes and I don’t think I
had ever known such pain. I was not allowed the simple consolation of rubbing
my bottom. I was told to stand, then kneel down and kiss Anita’s feet,
apologize for how I treated her boyfriend, and thank her for teaching me a
lesson.
It was humiliating, but the compulsion to obey and submit
was surprisingly powerful. I was angry, ashamed, and somewhat in awe of Anita standing
there, tapping that wickedly cruel paddle on her leg. Needless to say, I did
what I was told.
Then Emma announced that the initiation could begin. I
turned white, appalled. I thought it was over! But, no, that first beating was
an indulgence at Anita’s request. I had had nothing to do with the usual
initiation. Now a whole tray of paddles was wheeled out, and the ten girls
there each took one. They formed two lines, and I was told that I would have to
pass down the line between them, bending over for each pair, ask them to let me
have it, thank them, and then move on.
Emma then told me I could quit now, if I wanted. The voice
of prudence inside my head agreed. I had taken a sound paddling – in that
sense, I’d achieved what I set out to do, so why put myself through more agony? I don’t know, maybe it
was the wicked smirk on their faces that got my gander up, made me refuse to
admit they had defeated me right from the start. The story would get around
campus that Lindsay Ashcroft of the OCS was quite willing to dish it out to
whatever poor sot entered her office, but couldn’t take it.
I sniffed back my tears and entered the gauntlet. It was withering painful and equally as
humiliating, but I played my part to the letter, bending and pleading and suffering
and thanking my way down that line, proud as sin every time I swallowed the
desperate urge to howl, or stood up to take on the next pair of paddlers. They
each got two swings at me, so in total I got twenty more swats, on top of what
Anita had delivered me earlier. When it was done, I could hardly stand, my knees
were shaking so bad, and my jaw was quivering with stifled sobs, but I stood
and faced down Emma as she walked up to me, hugged me and welcomed me to Delta
Kappa Phi.
I was far more proud of having endured the ordeal than being
awarded my membership. It took me a full five days before I could sit with any
reasonable comfort, but looking back on it, I am glad I did it. It was
certainly one of the most profound experiences I’ve ever had, and I think my self-esteem
is actually higher than before, knowing I have the strength to take a walloping
like that.
Still, I think I’ll stick with the other end of the
stick. It’s a lot easier getting a good
night’s sleep afterward.
