Warning: If you think disgusting things are disgusting, this story is not for you. If you think disgusting things are not disgusting, then enjoy.

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Andrew felt lucky to find a parking space right in front of the house this late in the evening. He had been driving all day and was ready for a rest. He decided to make sure someone was home before getting his bag from the trunk.

Andrew was spending his summer driving around the country, collecting research for his doctoral thesis. Like many grad-students, he was operating on a shoestring budget. To save money he had been staying with relatives, friends, and sleeping on sofas wherever available. He did not know anyone in this area of the country, but a friend of a friend had passed along a contact to him. He reached out to Sharon by email, also a grad student, and explained what he was doing. He asked if he could crash on her sofa for a couple days. It turned out she was going to be away for that week, but was happy to let Andrew stay at her place. She told him her roommates would be there to let him in.

The house was larger than he expected, but when he stepped up on the porch he realized why. There were three large Greek letters on the wall. “Oh, no.” He thought to himself. It’s a sorority house. For a moment he considered turning around and leaving, but he had no other options in the area, and did not want to spend money on a motel. Reluctantly he pressed the doorbell, and few moments later a cute young woman opened the door.

“Hi, I’m Andrew. Sharon invited me to stay here. She said I should talk to her roommate Denise. Are you…” he asked.

“No, but I’ll check. Just a minute.” She closed the door, leaving Andrew to wait on the porch. She was far more bubbly and bouncy than anyone should be.

This was not where he wanted to stay. He had been to enough parties as an undergrad to know the fraternity and sorority scene, but he had moved past that phase in life. As a grad student his social circle was a more mature, responsible, and independent crowd. They were more inclined to spend a Saturday night watching a foreign film than doing keg stands. He turned to leave just as the door opened again.

“Hi, I’m Denise.” A tall woman said. She was wearing a fitted white T-shirt, a short skirt, and fuzzy slippers. It was the quintessential sorority summer attire. She was almost a head taller, and looked down at him with skepticism

“Hi, I’m Andrew.” He replied, extending a hand to shake, hoping a more formal gesture would help set the right tone. She met him with a strong grip, and soft skin.

“You’re a friend of Sharon?” she asked, making it clear that security was on her mind, and admittance was not guaranteed.

“Well, a friend of a friend, but yes. We exchanged a few emails and she said I could stay here for a couple days.” Andrew appreciated the seriousness of her demeanor.

“Yes.” Denise answered, folding her arms across her chest. “I've read the emails. She forwarded them to me.” Denise paused for a moment, sizing up Andrew, making it clear she was the one who would make the final decision.

“Ok. You may come in.” She rendered judgment with authority. “Do you have a bag?”

“Yes. It’s in the car. I’ll be right back.” Andrew hustled to the car and got his overnight bag. Denis’s command of the situation had caught him off guard. Any notion of running away had vanished. Denise was waiting at the door when he returned.

“Thank you.” He said stepping inside. She closed the door behind them.

The house was grand. Everything about it was stunning, from the architecture, to the furniture, and even the art on the walls. Andrew had never been in a house this nice, especially one run by college students.

“You can leave your bag and shoes here.” Denise said. “I’ll give you a brief tour.”

Andrew set his bag down next to the large staircase as instructed. He pushed off his shoes and followed Denise. She led the way, pointing out prominent features of the parlor, dining room, kitchen, formal living room, and library. Andrew was in awe. This place had been built many years ago, with what he suspected was “old money.”

“The house is beautiful.” Andrew said. “This was not at all my experience as an undergraduate.”

“We take great pride in our house, and in our family. It has been passed down through the years, along with the traditions and reputations of our sisters before us.”

Andrew felt like an outsider, given a small glimpse behind the velvet curtain. He was glad he had decided to stay.

“During the school year we do not allow men to stay the night, but during the summer there are a few rules we can relax.” Denise spoke with authority, shifting the conversation from tour guide to head of household.

“We do not allow sleeping on the sofas in the common areas, so you will be staying in Sharon’s room upstairs.” Denise explained. “There are fresh sheets on her bed, and you will be expected to strip the bed on the day you leave so that the housekeeper can launder them before Sharon returns.

“Ok.” Andrew replied, impressed with the house protocol. “That sounds great. Thank you.”

“During the school year quiet hours start at 9pm, but in the summer time we push it to 10pm.” Denise explained. “Although, we have a fairly quiet group at the moment. During the year we have 28 residents here, but right now there are only 5 of us.”

Andrew nodded as he looked around the room, taking in all the fine details.

“There is one matter of business we need to take care of.” She called Andrew’s attention back to herself. “I’m going to call down all the residents and notify them there is a man staying in the house, and let them decide on any house requirements.” Andrew didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded reasonable. Denise walked over to a large brass bell hanging on the wall.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The sound was strong enough to be heard throughout the house, and it was a very intentional signal. Moments later Andrew heard doors opening and closing, followed by footsteps in the halls above. The small bubbly girl came down the stairs first, followed by three other college students. While exhibiting some diversity in their physical appearance, they all shared that sorority-sister air about them. They came into the library, finding comfortable places around the room where they could attend the impromptu meeting.

“Ladies, this is Andrew.” Denise announced.

“Hi Andrew.” They all responded in unison. Andrew was startled to hear his name spoken by the group as if they had rehearsed it. Clearly they had done this before.

“Sharon has given permission for him to stay in her room for a few days. He is doing research in the area for this thesis. He will be out for most of the day, and here in the evenings.” Denise explained.

“Do any of you have any concerns or questions that need to be addressed before I grant him permission?”

The women looked around at each other, but no one spoke. There was a moment of silence.

“Ok.” Denise rendered her verdict. “Andrew, you may stay.”

“Thank you.” Andrew responded, looking around to make eye contact with each of them, grateful for their approval.

“That just leaves us with the matter of a house requirement.” Denise continued. “Does anyone have a suggestion?” She asked the group.

Andrew was puzzled. He didn’t know what she meant by a house requirement, but Denise was clearly speaking to the other women and not to him.

“He could Run The Iditarod.” One of them suggested with a big grin.

“Nah,” another answered, “That’s best done in the winter time.”

Andrew was puzzled. The women were giddy with excitement, but he did not know what they were talking about.

“How about a Log Jam?” One asked.

“No. He’s not dating anyone in the house.” Denise answered. There was exaggerated pouting from two of them. Andrew began to worry.

“I’d be up for Weeding the Garden.” One suggested, looking around for moral support.

“With only five of us? Seems rather… unproductive.” Another answered.

“Oh! Oh! I know!” One exclaimed. “Pinball…”

“No!” Two others interrupted her.

“You are always suggesting Pinball Circus.” Denise chimed in. “I think you might have an addiction.” The others laughed.

While their conversation did not include Andrew, it was obvious they were talking about him. It was as if they were deliberating a test or task of some sort. They clearly held all the cards. It was their house, their rules, and they outnumbered him. This dynamic was understandably making him nervous. What he did not anticipate was a peculiar excitement stirring inside him. He had never experienced five women discussing his fate, and weirdly, part of him liked it.

After much deliberation, the bubbly one spoke up. “How about a little Friendly Fire?”

Smiles spread across a their faces. Based on the look in their eyes, Andrew could sense a growing consensus. They turned to Denise for final approval. A naughty smirk appeared on her face as she thought about it. She turned and addressed Andrew directly.

“Andrew. We have a tradition in the house. Before staying under our roof, one must pass a small test, a house ritual of sorts.”

Thoughts of dangerous fraternity stories and hazing gone wrong began to race through Andrew’s mind. He did not expect this sort of juvenile and barbaric attitude to exist in a sorority house like this.

“Would you have any objection if any one of us wanted to, say, give you a kiss?” She stared at Andrew, raising an eyebrow with intrigue.

“A kiss?” Andrew asked in clarification, looking around at the very attentive, and rather attractive women.”

“Yes. If one, or two of us wanted to give you a kiss, would that be… acceptable?”

Andrew thought about it, wondering what the catch was. He looked around at them, and the extra adorable smiles they were all displaying.

“That would be… fine.” He timidly answered. “I would have no objections.” He added, to match Denise’s formality.

That peculiar sense of excitement had become a stiffening in his pants. He wanted desperately to make an adjustment to his folded over semi-erection, but he did not dare do it with these five staring at him.

“All right.” Denise decreed. “Friendly Fire it is!”

There was a barrage of bouncing, hyper-clapping, and grinning from the group.

Denise maintained calm control, instructing them to move a leather padded bench to the middle of the room. She instructed Andrew to sit at one end and lie back on the bench. His heart was racing for a variety of reasons. He had a small opportunity to discreetly adjust himself as he turned and sat down. Looking up at the ceiling and the elegant chandelier, he noticed the five women drawing in closer, circling around him.

Denise, standing at his side, raised one leg and swung it over Andrew, as if she was mounting a horse. She lowered herself down, sitting on his stomach. Andrew was instantly aware that his tensed stomach muscles could just barely support her body weight. It was exciting to have a woman straddling him. It had been awhile since Andrew had been on his back looking up at a woman like this. A part of him wished she was farther down, grinding her crotch on his pelvis, and part of him was glad that she was not trying to engage him that way in front of the others.

Denise grabbed his wrists and held them tight to his chest. Looking down at him she gave very clear and specific instructions.

“Now, tip your head back, and open your mouth.”

Andrew was on the verge of a panic attack. This was not how he expected to receive a kiss. His hands were firmly secured, and Denise was sitting on his stomach. He did not want to backpedal now, but was truly uncertain of what they would do next, so he did as he was told.

The bubbly girl stepped closer to him. In keeping with her bubbly nature, her excitement and grin were well beyond normal. She slowly bent over and lowered her face down towards Andrew’s. He stared up into her sparkling eyes and froze, like a deer caught in the headlights. She puckered her lips and extended them out. Hovering just above his mouth. Andrew waited and waited for contact. It felt weird to have his mouth open when she was about to kiss him with her lips closed. Then he felt it. She was too close for him to see it happen, but there was no mistake about it. She drooled a large dollop of saliva from her mouth down into his. It first hit his tongue, which instinctively recoiled back to prevent him from choking. Then the juices ran to the sides, forming small pools in the lowest pockets of his mouth. Her saliva was warm, and wet, and filled him with embarrassment and shame. What she had done was deeply personal. Their eyes remained locked as she stood back up. Their mutual gaze held a new found intimacy. He felt oddly connected to her in a level he had not expected. She wiggled and squealed with glee, very satisfied with what she had done.

“Now close your mouth.” Denise instructed. Andrew did as he was told, unable to resist her command, and uncertain what he should do with what felt like a mouth full of someone else’s saliva.

“Good boy.” She said, in a stern but approving tone. Andrew felt so small and helpless. He was also rock hard. It was difficult for him to form a coherent reaction in his mind while processing mixed signals.

Without much time to think about it, another woman started bending over, bringing her face down towards Andrew in a similar fashion.

“Open.”’ Denise instructed.

Andrew hesitatingly opened his mouth exposing the mess of swirling fluid inside for the second woman to see. She enthusiastically smiled and winked at Andrew, as she opened her lips and added her own generous blob of saliva to his collection.

Andrew’s mouth felt so full he feared one wrong move and it would spill out the corners and down his cheeks. He looked up at Denise for guidance, or permission; anything to indicate what he should do next. It was obvious to everyone that he had no say in the proceedings.

She silently nodded at him.

Andrew obediently closed his mouth.

She looked at him as if to say “you know what to do.”

Andrew closed his eyes tightly, and then swallowed.

It was gross and disgusting and vile. He felt so demeaned and worthless, just a used receptacle for their heartless whims. He could also feel his penis throbbing and straining inside his pants. He wanted it all to end and be over so he could run far away from them. He also secretly wanted the next woman to lean over and use him in the same manner. For the first time in his life he knew exactly what a woman wanted from him, and he knew exactly how to make her happy.

He looked up at the third woman with a pained expression on his face. He feared what she was about to do, and yet did not want to miss out on the gift she would offer him. As she lowered herself to him, he opened his mouth, like a baby bird hungry for a feeding. She hovered, making him wait, taking an extra moment to build up her reserves. When she began to release, she did it slowly, allowing long dangling strings to linger, temporarily connecting the two of them. The frothy link slowly flowed down into his gaping maw. It was a one-way exchange. She was the generous giver, and he was the lucky recipient.

He studied her lips while her bodily fluids settled into the depths of his mouth. He tasted a hint of mint in her saliva. He wanted to explore her warm insides. While he was savoring the taste of her mouth, his cock was aching to be touched. He closed his mouth and swallowed, elevating her to the status of the others. A part of them was now inside his body. It was a form of possession. They had staked a claim to new territory.

Denise kept his wrists held stil, but Andrew felt her pelvis rocking forward and back ever so slightly on his tense stomach muscles. It was difficult to keep them continuously flexed, like a perpetual crunch, but it was as close to grinding as he could get. He wished she was sitting a few inches lower, rocking on his hidden erection. He began matching his breathing to her rocking pelvis.

The fourth woman got down on her knees. She pulled her long hair back and held it in a ponytail with one hand. It was like a typical scene from a dirty video, where the eager girl prepares to give a blow job. But in this case she was not going to end up with a mouthful. Andrew opened wide, like a dutiful sub, and waited for his gift. As soon as the first drops hit his tongue he could taste the alcohol. Her dribbling stream of saliva was accompanied by her warm breath exhaled on his face. She had been drinking, and it was strong. Andrew guessed she had been sipping whiskey. He was not expecting this aroma from this woman. Sipping whiskey in a sorority house? She was full of secrets. She maintained eye contact with him as she ran her tongue around her lower lip, licking up the last few drops that had not fallen. She was a master of seductive eye contact. Andrew remained locked on her gaze as he closed his lips. He swirled her essence around inside his mouth with his tongue, tasting the lingering notes of her secret. As he swallowed her juices, she wiggled her eyebrows at him, confirming that she knew what he now knew. A small secret for them to enjoy.

It was a weird overloading of emotions, having these intense, personal exchanges with each woman, while the whole time Denise was sitting on top of him. Andrew’s focus was split. He struggled to concentrate on Denise grinding on his stomach while also consuming their fluids. Even without any nudity, it was as close to a threesome as Andrew had ever experienced. Physically engaging two women while others watched. His neglected erection was begging for attention, and he was loving the agony of it all.

All eyes turned to Denise. She was the ringleader, the person in charge, and Andrew now realized she had not spoken for quite awhile. She had spent the most time with her mouth closed, creating and saving up for her turn. It was time for the grand finale.

She leaned forward, putting more of her weight onto Andrew’s wrists and chest. She was the first to do this facing Andrew right side up. Their eyes aligned, their mouth aligned, and their whole bodies were aligned. Andrew’s helplessness was only matched by his arousal. Looking up into that determined face, he felt he would do anything for her. He wanted to give up all free will and let her take control of him completely. It felt so insignificant, but all he could offer her at this moment was a wide open receptacle for her to fill. He stretched his mouth open wide, telepathically giving her full permission to use him in any way she wished.

Her scrunched lips puckered open and a long stream of clear fluid began to dangle down into his waiting mouth. She had excellent control, and was able to keep the stringy ribbon of saliva connected and flowing for a very long time. Andrew accepted every drop with a humble satisfaction, honored to be receiving her attention. As she got close to the end of her serving, she closed her lips, collected the last remaining drops from around her teeth, and then forcefully spit the last bit of it down into him.

This sudden impact was startling to Andrew. The sound, the rush of air, and the emotional punch of having her spit into his open mouth pushed him unexpectedly over the edge. He felt the involuntary convulsions inside his pants. His penis had reached the tipping point, and was unloading a sticky mess into his underwear. The lack of stroking or any physical stimulation on his penis was deeply unsatisfying, and just intensified the embarrassment in his lack of control. He hoped none of them had noticed what had happened inside his now soiled pants.

Denise straightened back up, stood, and dismounted. As Andrew raised his head to sit up he noticed a dark wet patch on his shirt. It had been hidden under Denise’s skirt this whole time, but now all of them could see it. It was obvious to everyone that Denise had been wearing nothing under her skirt. She left a wet vulva print on Andrew. The others giggled with glee and pointed, congratulating Denise on her sticky stamp of approval.

Andrew sat up and then stood. As small and humiliated as he felt, he was weirdly proud to have been marked by Denise in this way. It was a badge of honor for completing the trial. He had earned their respect, even if they only respected him as a swallower of their spit. He had the lowest possible ranking in their society, but he was pleased to have made them happy, even for just a few minutes. As he looked around at them, he realized their pointing was not so much at his wet shirt, but lower. He looked down. The mess in his pants had already soaked through two layers of cloth, and could now be seen by all of them. They laughed and whispered to each other as they left the room and headed back up stairs.

Andrew was left standing in front of Denise with a wet shirt and wet pants. She shook her head side to side in a dominant and disapproving manner, assigning blame to him for both messes. Andrew realized his place in the house structure was to be a source of their amusement, especially at the expense of his own dignity. He felt used, and dirty, and turned on like he had never experienced before.

“You need to clean yourself up.” Denise broke the silence. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.”