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Archive-name: School/oweekslt.txt

Archive-author: J. Verhagen

Archive-title: O-Week Sluts


  Warning - The following story contains:

  bondage, bestiality, lesbianism,

  black humour, etc...

  If this is not for you, please skip

  the remainder of this posting.

                           O-WEEK SLUTS

                       A Ridiculous Tale by

                            J. Verhagen

 It was another O(rientation)-WEEK at W______. Throngs of youthful

 Frosh came to buy purple T-shirts, wear purple baseball caps, dip

 their arms in purple paint and act like the bunch of  purple  re-

 tards  that  they were. Soon we would see nubile young tarts with

 pert breasts - no bra support needed - parading  around,  proudly

 displaying  "Fuck  Me"  slogans  spray painted on their chests by

 their exuberant and slightly drunk peers.  Someone would write in

 to  the  Gazette:  "I found that T-shirt disgusting - how can any

 one respect you (you slut)". There would  be  many  replies  from

 irate  female  students, who felt - rightly - that they should be

 able to act like sluts without being called one.

 A while ago, the prez - tyrant that he was - decided  to  shorten

 O-WEEK.  No  one  would have it - no-siree! Elephantine sophomore

 tarts roamed the U__ patio, wearing shades  and  shouting  O-WEEK

 O-WEEK, big red lips making an exaggerated "O" as they mooned for

 the news photographers.

 But there were guys there too; tall preppy fags  wearing  bermuda

 shorts, shades, and freudian phallic symbol baseball caps; not to

 mention making the same big Os with their mouths. They needed  O-

 WEEK.  I  mean,  how  else  could they get laid?  They needed new

 naive babes to pull the same stunts;  get  them  drunk  on  their

 back,  legs spread, saying shit like "I'll marry you, etc" - any-

 thing to get them to drop their droors; feeding their own  pinky-

 sized dicks into tight unwilling slits, tossing the babes out the

 front door - like sluts - sans clothes when done. Or  maybe  they

 would keep them around, trade them like baseball cards with their

 drinking buddies, or shove them in a closet somewhere while  they

 went  out  and  found some new pieces of feminine action to stick

 their microscopic dicks into.

 "It's amazing; If they're in different  programs,  they'll  never

 meet",  says  one tall blonde fag with a dildo head preppy hairdo

 to his buddy. "Yeah", laughing, says the other, "it's really easy

 to have more than one GIRLFRIEND here!"

 "But I love you!", wailed the tall blonde, making a big scene  in

 the  Nat  Sci  building. The guy is looking around all nervous at

 the 50+ people walking by, giving the couple stares. "AND YOU AL-

 WAYS  LOVE  HER!".  He calms her down, walks her out the building

 and then takes off at full speed, bermuda shorts flapping in  the

 breeze!  And  she's  chasing him, at full speed, until she hits a

 rock and winds up on the pavement with a mouthful of gravel,  and

 hot wet tears of complete humiliation running down her cheeks.

 "Hot Wet and Salty!", the babes in the  O-WEEK  team  shouted  in

 unison,  youthful  lungs  giving  vent to sexual frustration; the

 itch between their pretty thighs telegraphing  FUCK  ME  FUCK  ME

 FUCK  ME  in  secret  pheremonal codes to every (pseudo) guy in a

 five block radius.

 And then, there were the guys: O-WEEK instructors waiting for the

 chance  to  get  these young babes - now so far from home - alone

 and drunk in a wonderful her-word-against-his  setting  for  some

 real  orientation  into  the  life of a W______ chick. There were

 other guys too;  young  ones  hoping  to  meet  someone  special,

 genuine  Frosh; but what girl would choose that over the charisma

 and sheer charm of a knowledgeable instructor?  Fuck  you,  she's

 thinkin'  as  she  eyes  these  dweebs in purple shirts. Soon she

 would, after having fucked everyone else in town. The funny thing

 is,  is  that she'll be drunk most of the time and won't remember

 half of it.

 The frat boys were jacking off in a circle onto a loaf of  bread.

 The  loser - the one who comes last - gets the sheer privilege of

 consuming the jizz.  Oooh Oooh Oooh, they  chant,  working  erect

 members,  eyeing  each-other's  dicks.  Truly this was a game for

 fags. I mean, what normal guy could come quickly with a bunch  of

 nude guys around starin at his prick?

 And then there was the  thumb-butt-circle  game,  where  everyone

 stands in a circle, thumbs in eachother's butts, marching around.

 Ooops! Did your thumb come out? - Geee, I guess  you'll  have  to

 put  it  in your mouth, and use the other one.  If that one comes

 out, you lose, and have to service the whole gang. Have fun.  Did

 I  mention something about frat boys having homosexual tendencies

 - Paddling eachother's butts with pledge paddles, dressing up  in

 women's lingerie, frequently dropping the soap in the locker room

 shower to admit... Naw, not me!

 But let's get on with today's nasty adventure. It happened at the

 Z__ (local name for a certain sleazoid residence on campus)

 Lisa was in her room, drunk and fingering her slender pink pussy,

 eyeing  some  positively  sinful  magazine her roomate Sheri left

 behind. "Oooooh", she squeeled looking at the pictures of  people

 in  various positions, genitalia - the gear works of reproduction

 - exposed in various modes of relating. One showed a black  chick

 with  a  dildo up her ass sucking some guy's massive prick, while

 another guy, this one being under her, had his cock up her pussy.

 An  Asian girl in the picture lent a hand to working the dildo up

 the black chick's ass and was being penetrated from behind  by  a

 large  black labrador, its big pink tongue hanging out. And there

 was another guy - in Nazi regalia of  all  things  -  riding  the

 black   girl   backwards  and  visibly  wacking  the  Asian  with

 outstretched riding crop , the girl who was - besides getting some

 doggy action - also sucking him off.

 "Fuckin Unbelievable!", Lisa squeeled; and  that  was  the  least

 elaborate  one!  There  was a whole book full of these, each more

 implausible than the one preceding. Her fingers worked her  moist

 pussy as she turned the page...

 Suddenly, Sheri walks in. "he he he", the more mature babe chuck-

 les,  eyeing  Lisa's  form and evident distress at having been so

 suddenly disturbed. "shit", Lisa exclaims, reaching for her  pan-

 ties  -  a bit too late for Sheri who had by this time dumped the

 contents of her brown bag - dildos, whips, sex toys, etc  -  onto

 the bed beside our precious little Frosh sweety.

 But that's not all: Three completely naked guys suddenly  rounded

 the  corner  too  and  helped  Sheri tie the now struggling Lisa,

 spead-eagled, butt in the air, to the bed with big  white  ropes.

 "Hey!",  she  exclaimed,  not  entirely sure she was digging this

 stuff; but soon she couldn't say anything; mostly because of  the

 gag  ball  that someone shoved in her mouth. She noticed that one

 of them had a camera...

 They took turns mounting her from behind after lubing  her  pussy

 and anus with gobs of gelatinous cream; having also shoved a pil-

 low under her firm tummy to maintain that special angle  so  cru-

 cial to rear entry. Flashbulbs went off as they experimented with

 plugging her orifices with dildos and engorged penises, rearrang-

 ing  the ropes every now and then to make for new and interesting

 pictures. They all wore black ski-masks - a secret  turn  on  for


 Sheri, by this time, had gotten really horny. "Eat me!", she  ex-

 claimed  as she proferred her steaming pussy to the ministrations

 of Lisa - our little Frosh sweety who was by this  time  somewhat

 tuckered  out  from  all  the  attention she was getting. She was

 surprised by her room-mate's actions but was even more  surprised

 by  the  fact  that she was enjoying it completely! She had never

 done this before, but she was already looking forward  to  future

 encounters with her roomate - soaping her body in the tub, giving

 her massages, pressing moist mound against moist mound, etc.

 But that wasn't the biggest surprise of the evening. No, the  big

 surprise  was  when she felt herself mounted by some snorting an-

 imal: It was FIDO, THE CHEERLEADING TEAM MASCOT, pumping away  at

 her  rear,  letting out a low howl, and eventually shooting a hot

 thick stream of dog jizz up her recently deflowered puss.  Flash-

 bulbs  recorded  this moment for posterity, as Lisa felt  herself

 sink into the bed under the enormous weight of the animal's form,

 its  claws  digging  into  her  shoulders, its fuzzy hindquarters

 tickling her butt.

 Lisa had many more memorable adventures at this  institution  for

 higher  learning, but this was her first - her first taste of the

 life of  an  intellectually  inclined  woman  on  campus.  Truly,

 thought  Lisa,  this was an O-WEEK to remember. She couldn't wait

 to cram for finals.


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