C|Suite Letters: Teased By The Sorority




Teased By The Sorority


Dear C|Suite,


When I was in college, my fraternity had a partnership with a nearby sorority wherein we'd send over one of our newer members—a hazing of sorts—to act as a "house boy". This guy's job would be to visit the sorority house a couple times a week and do menial, degrading chores, such as vacuuming and laundry.


You know, shit that women are suppose to be doing.


Apparently many pledges believe that this task is suppose to be a glorious honor—minus the manual labor— as one would be spending an inordinate amount of time around young, hot, tight college girls for months on end with the implied notion of possible fuckcapades. I am here to tell you the beautiful, yet torturous truth of such a task.


My sophomore year, that guy turned out to be me. You’d think this would’ve been a dream job of sorts, getting to be around hot sorority chicks all day long, however, it was more like a blessed curse. To this day, these memories still haunt my spank bank.


The sorority house had eight residents or “housies." Not to be confused with “hussies”, however, these chicks were absolutely horny, bonafide, cock whisperers.


Yes, eight smokn’ beautiful, fuck-me-right-now type of chicks. Basically, this sorority represented what America should be like every single day: Full of thin, toned, tanned, beautiful bombshells instead of the fat fucking trolls that waddle down main street right now.


They [the housies] were split among four bedrooms on the second floor, which were connected by a long hallway that led to the bathroom. The first floor had the common room, chapter room, kitchen, etcetera, and the laundry room was in the basement. All these areas became my responsibility.


I tried to be mature and respectful, but things went about as you would expect the first few weeks. Despite the free labor—frankly, a waste of my talents— some of the housies resented the lack of privacy from having a dude around so much. Whenever I’d knock on a bedroom door, there’d be a delay as the occupant got herself “decent” before letting me in to gather laundry or throw away her trash.


I never saw a housie in anything less than fully dressed, even when hanging out on a lazy Sunday. Even after a shower, they'd come out of the bathroom fully dressed. I mean, this wasn’t what I had signed-up for...in my head.


Needless to say, the first few weeks were really disappointing; job satisfaction was at an all time low for me. Like with any “dream job” your expectations are usually never met, or your employer lied to you about the corporate culture, etc.


However, as the weeks went on, the housies got more and more comfortable with me around. I started seeing them dress more comfortably around the house. T-shirts and jeans were replaced with tank tops and booty shorts. The occasional leggings and yoga pants—a woman’s second skin—would also make their appearances from time to time. Bras became less and less frequent (except in their laundry, of course). They began wearing bathrobes and towels, to and from the bathroom. Needless to say, a change was in the air.


I could feel the change, and my cock knew it too.


They stopped worrying about becoming “decent” before letting me into their rooms. I would often enter the room to find them in their underwear. I even caught one of them casually taking away her vibrator from underneath the covers, putting it back into the nightstand. Panties and loose-fitting tank tops were the most common sight.


One girl, "Veronica," liked lounging around wearing nothing but an extra-large t-shirt. It was difficult not to perv-stare at the shape of her body through the thin cotton. Another girl, “Ashley," preferred a short Victoria’s Secret robe, which opened up at the side to reveal her bare leg all the way up past her waist. These moments would’ve landed a weak man in jail; I wanted to beat the breaks off of every one of these chicks.


The turning point came one day when I was visiting “Amber” to collect her laundry. She was wearing only a black bra and panties. As I picked up her laundry basket and turned to leave the room, I heard her call out to me. As I turned, she slipped off her bra and tossed it into the basket. I couldn’t help but stare at her perky B-cup breasts and small pink nipples. Her left nipple had a piercing; she had a small tattoo of some ancient Chinese proverb just near the top. She giggled and made a halfhearted attempt at covering herself before shooing me out of the room. I usually have a rapist wit, but my brain was trying to organize what positions I'd like to fuck this chick in before shooting a load from both balls into her face. My heart was pounding the whole way down to the basement.


Amber must have shared this episode to her friends. All I know is that this type of thing became even more common among the other housies. It became a regular occurrence to enter a bedroom and see a nice pair of uncovered breasts.


All of the housies acted completely casual, as if being seen half-naked by their house boy on the reg was perfectly normal. But I think most of them began to have fun showing off and teasing me. By the end of the second month, I’d seen all eight housies topless.


One day, I was visiting Veronica to pick up her shit in her room. By this point, she’d told me that I didn’t need to knock before entering her room, so I opened the door and walked right in like I was Daddy who paid the bills.


I was immediately greeted by the sight of Veronica taking a nap on her bed.


The blanket was down around her waist, and all of her that I could see was completely naked. The blanket was low enough so that I could make out the top of a neatly, trimmed, landing strip. Trust me, it took every ounce of my strength, being, and duty as these chicks’ “house bitch” not to force fuck and dig every one of their pussies out as if they were clogged with desire.


I couldn’t resist ogling her. Her shapely C-cup breasts rose and fell as she breathed— I imagined dotting them with white, hot cum. These things needed to be frosted like two Polish pazukis, I’d thought to myself.


Her skin was smooth and pale, and her body was well toned. I could make out the top-half of a heart-shaped crotch tattoo peeking out from under the covers. What I couldn’t see was where I was stepping, and I accidentally sent a loud kick into her dresser. She awoke startled, but when she saw it was me, she relaxed and lifted her arms to stretch. Then she sat up and playfully twirled her finger, directing me to turn around. I did as ordered (part of the pledge), and I heard her get out of bed and open her underwear drawer.


This naked woman stood behind for what seemed like ages before she finally found a suitable pair of panties and told me it was okay to turn back around. Only seeing her in panties at this point did little to calm my racing heart, and I hoped that my boner wasn’t showing through my shorts. It was all I could do to avoid falling down the stairs as I hauled her dirty, yet sweet smelling clothes to the basement.






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Another turning point came midway through the third month. I was in the common bathroom getting ready to start cleaning. I’d just gotten onto my hands and knees like some Mexican when Ashley suddenly entered the room, wearing her blue cotton bathrobe. She said a casual “hello”, and as she spoke, she untied the knot to her robe, opened it up, and let it drop to the floor, leaving herself completely naked.


The day was off to a great start; my jaw had fallen to the floor as well.


I looked up at her from below in shock. I stared at the familiar sight of her perky breasts with pale, pointy nipples, and her smooth, tan skin. I also stared at the unfamiliar sight of her perfect pussy, which was level with my face. Her pubic hair was shaped in a natural pattern, and neatly trimmed. I could see her pink clit peeking out from between her lips. Nice.


My staring was cut short when she turned away from me and began to brush her teeth in the mirror. I tried to get back to work, but now I was looking at her firm, round ass. It had a small beauty mark on one cheek and jiggled slightly as she brushed. I finally tore my eyes away and forced myself to concentrate on my menial task. After a few minutes, I glanced back at her and caught her looking at me through the mirror. She reminded me to clean behind the toilet, and turned to switch on the shower. I was sweating more than Jeffery Epstein on his island.


She stood facing me as she waited for the water to get hot, watching me work, and giving me an extended full-frontal view of her naked body. Free labor or not, there is still some value to a good, honest day’s work in America.


It was all I could do not to gawp like an idiot. Finally, the water got hot enough, and she disappeared behind the shower curtain. It was then that I realized how little progress I’d made in my actual chore, like a true illegal immigrant on foreign soil.


I left the bathroom before she finished her shower, and was met with a number of smiling faces peeking out from the bedroom doors. Apparently, they’d dared Ashley to go in and shower while I was inside. When they saw the look on my face, they all erupted into fits of giggles. It seemed their dare had worked out just the way they wanted. I caught a few of them glancing curiously down at my crotch, and it was only then that I looked down and saw my boner pitching a huge, obvious tent in my pants.


The sounds of their giggles followed me as I hurried down the stairs. It was at this point I began to contemplate that this was all part of the game, and that this sorority is aware of our fraternity’s initiation process. This whole thing is suppose to be some twisted torture ritual.


***


After Ashley’s bathroom stunt, the housies became even more bold with their teasing. Things began to escalate to a whole new level. But throughout it all, everyone maintained the pretense that it was all perfectly normal.


When a completely naked housie marched past me on her way to the bathroom, she’d say “hi” to me as if we were meeting in the hallway at school, and I’d have to pretend I wasn’t looking at her bouncing breasts and jiggling ass.


It gets worse. Well...better...I guess.


One day, two roommates, Laura and Jamie, called me into their room to help them rearrange their furniture. Laura and Jamie were both on the women’s volleyball team and were in great shape. Like, stupidly fuckable I might add.


When I knocked on the door and entered the room, they were already inside waiting for me. The baggy t-shirts they wore were not quite long enough to hide that they were both bottomless. I could catch a glimpse of pussy peeking out from underneath the white cotton fabric. I noticed the indent of panty lines on their butts, which meant they had actually been wearing panties just moments before and stripped them off as soon as I knocked on the door. Stupid me, I should’ve just kicked the door down without notice.


“Helping” them rearrange their furniture turned out to mean doing it for them, while they lounged around and directed me. Occasionally they’d bend over to move backpacks or sports equipment out of the way, and I’d get a nice view between their legs. Picture two 9's with perfect thigh gaps and volleyball butts and don’t tell me you’d take a life-long rape vacation down at the penitentiary.


I quickly learned that both girls were clean shaved. Laura’s lips were tightly closed, forming only a thin line. Jamie’s lips were more open and showed off her pink labia and clit. Looked like a nice, tight, corn beef sandwich; commercial ready.


I also got nice views from the front whenever they’d reach up to move something onto a shelf. It took nearly 20-minutes to finally get the furniture the way they wanted. It probably would’ve been faster if I hadn’t been so distracted by the constant pussy flashing.


After I finished, they each flopped onto their beds with satisfaction, causing their shirts to flip up to their lower backs and giving me an excellent view of their toned butts. By the time they shooed me out, I’d been hard for so long it almost hurt.


Another day, I entered a room to vacuum. I’d discovered three housies inside, "Sarah", "Alex", and "Bailey". Sarah was about to show off a bunch of bikinis she’d just bought during a winter clearance sale at Boat House to the other two girls. As soon as I went inside, I was eagerly invited to join them.


I sat down on the bed next to Alex and Bailey, who were actually dressed for once. Sarah was only wearing a silk robe, which she quickly slipped off, revealing her naked body: fully shaved; no strip; no bush, and no bullshit.


She had a narrow waist with several small beauty marks spread across her pale skin. Her breasts were lemon-shaped with nipples that were just as pale as her skin.


The shopping bag filled with bikinis was on the floor behind her, so she turned and bent over in front of us to dig for her first set. Alex let out a whistle, and Sarah playfully wiggled her butt for us. My heart was already pounding. We all hollered and cheered like we were at a One Direction concert.


Sarah had found the set she wanted to try first, a blue one with white palm trees. Alex and Bailey approved, and I was invited to opine as well. My dick pitched a tent, again in approval.


I tried to play it cool, but I don’t think I did a good job, as everything I said elicited a fit of giggles from the three girls. When she was done modeling, Sarah pulled off the bikini and bent over to get another set. The constant cycle of stripping and bending over was almost too much for me to take.

This was worse than what the Chinese do to dissenters.


At one point, Bailey declared that one of the bikinis might look good on her. Sarah invited her to try it on, so Bailey pulled off her shirt, booty shorts and stepped over to Sarah, completely naked. Sarah took off the bikini in question and handed it over. Sarah then gave Bailey one of the most porn-y-iest open mouth kisses I had ever seen after saying “Thanks, girl!”


It was awesome, but I also wanted to kill myself too.


Once Bailey tried it on, she decided she didn’t like it after all. She took it off and tossed it back into the bag. She didn’t put her clothes back on before she sat down next to me, so for the rest of the bikini try-on sesh I was sitting right next to another naked housie. I tried not to glance at her generous breasts with large areolas and cone-shaped nipples. I was waiting for the joke to be over and for Bailey to just suck my dick clean off....but death at this point would be the only sweet release.


I was there for almost an hour before Sarah finally tried on her last set. My balls were in a world of hurt.


The girls would constantly get distracted from the try-on and begin chatting about absolutely nothing of value, and the whole time I’d be trying not to stare at all of breasts and pussies only feet away from me.


Regarding my opinion on the bikinis, I don’t think I offered anything useful to the conversation, but I was invited to offer feedback the next time one of the girls went shopping. Bailey even winked and said that a lingerie sale was coming up at VS, which led to another giggle fit.


God is a wicked, prick.


Another episode was when the housies recruited me to bartend for an afterparty on behalf of the sorority’s annual costume party. About a third of the sorority was there, which included many sisters who were not housies.


My job was pretty easy, because I was only provided with enough ingredients to mix 2 or 3 different cocktails. The sisters were already pretty buzzed when the party started at 1 AM, and they were all dressed in the typical assortment of “sexy” girls’ costumes: Basically, projections of their inner skank. I myself was still wearing the store-bought Deadpool outfit I’d worn to the party.


But then one of them decided to ask me which of the costumes I thought was the sexiest. Before I could say anything, all the sisters within earshot had jumped into the conversation. Soon, the whole party had decided I was judging a sexy contest. Sweet baby Jesus, not this again.


One-by-one, the sisters paraded past the bar while the rest of them catcalled from the fringes of the room. Each of them gave a sexy flourish, such as an ass slap or hip swing. Things escalated when Amber, the first housie to show off, took her turn.


She was dressed as a sexy devil, wearing red lingerie with red stockings and bustier. When she reached the center of the floor, she bent over and slipped off her panties and threw them onto the bar. She had actually dyed her pubic hair red and orange! The whole room erupted into cheers and catcalls as she arched her back and ran a hand up her pussy.


My hand was bleeding, because I had shattered a high ball glass from squeezing it so hard.


The girl after Amber wasn’t a housie, and wasn’t used to me seeing her naked, but the party atmosphere, as well as over-pouring by me, made her bold enough to spice things up. She was dressed as Wonder Woman, and when she got to the middle of the room, she reached under her skirt and slipped off her panties. She gave an erotic hip thrust, causing her skirt to swish almost high enough to see the goods underneath. The girls after her followed her lead.


The next girl was dressed as a nurse, and when it was her turn, she pulled down her top and flashed her breasts, took her own heart beat with the stethoscope, and then shoved a thermometer up her cooter. Her temperature was apparently over a hundred down there. Oh, and both of her nipples had ring piercings.


The girl after that was dressed as a dairy farmer, and lifted her jean skirt to flash her ass and pussy.


Next came another housie, Ashley. She was dressed as a pervy flasher, and during the party had been wearing a long tan trench coat with modest flesh-colored underwear underneath. When her turn came, she strode to the center of the room and threw open her trench coat. At some point she’d taken off the underwear, leaving herself completely naked underneath. She strode confidently around the edge of the room, holding the coat open for each of the spectating sisters. They all hollered and cheered, and a few even copped a feel. I even think one stuck two fingers up her snatch and pumped a few times.


I began to hate bartending.


When she circled around to the bar, she shook her breasts at me and grinned.


After the last girl had gone by, I was thankfully spared having to declare a winner, as the whole room had decided Ashley had the sexiest (and most accurate) costume. I obediently declared her the winner and everyone gave one final round of applause and cheers.


The experience of watching over a dozen girls trying to out-sexy each other was exhausting, and when the party died down and all the sisters began to leave, I quickly scooted towards the upstairs bathroom. I needed to change, get my bag and some of my things before leaving for the night.


As I was leaving, I ran into Ashley who was heading off to her room to crash. Her trench coat was still hanging open, but she had put the nude underwear back on. She said that she “wanted to thank me”… for bartending and judging the costume contest. She told me her only regret was forgetting to ask me to compete in the costume contest too.


Before I had a chance to say anything, Ashley was also kind enough to caution me that the contest had made her “extremely horny”. She then quickly added that if I were to hear any whimpering moans, strange “sloshing” or “schlicking” sounds, It would be because she is “furiously masturbating” and “not being murdered or stabbed to death.” She giggled after mentioning this and then closed her door more slowly than what is conventionally necessary.


As usual, I tried to play it cool, but these last words made my blood pressure spike. Despite the long party and late hours, it was a long time before I could get to sleep that night.


Yours truly horny,

The House Boy

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