"Our v.a.g.i.n.as, bonehead. To check and see if we still have hymens."

"Yes, yes, young lady," that refined voice returned, but this time an old country doctor walked out of the back office in a white labcoat. He looked over circular spectacles at a clipboard. "And you must be...Miss Ann White. Girls, I'm Dr. Wilier, and I'm the Alpha House physician on call. As Ann here has so accurately deduced, I'll be performing your gynecological exams. Though I think I can safely say through the most cursory visual a.s.sessment that the three of you are in all likelihood, chaste."

Mercy shot a desperate glance to me. "What, what's he mean ?"

I put my white smock on which, naturally, was several sizes too small so I looked like I was busting out of it. "It means were' so f.u.c.kin' unattractive that no guy in a million years would ever want to put his d.i.c.k in our v.a.g.i.n.as."

"A bit coa.r.s.ely stated," the doctor said, "but essentially correct."

When Mercy pulled her panties off, Zenas bent over at the waist he was laughing so hard. See, Hannah and I kept ourselves reasonably trimmed down there, but Mercy clearly hadn't trimmed her plot, like, ever. She had so much hair between her legs, it looked liked one of those black Halloween wigs.

Zenas was honking like a horn. "Thet yew're p.u.s.s.y har, girl, or yew gotta hedgehog 'tween yer gams?" Meanwhile, this shrivel-faced Dr. Willet reached under each exam table and a"

clack! a" pulled up stirrups, "As they say in the military, young ladies...a.s.sume the position."

I just resigned to the whole thing and got on, put my heels in the stirrups, and waited. Mercy and Hannah looked like they were about to have f.u.c.kin' strokes when they got on. Then that old prune-faced f.u.c.k Dr. Willet put this thing on his head that looked like the things jewelers used to examine gems, with a little light on it, and he had a pair of stainless-steel retractors in his hand. "Ah, now a"yes," he said and pulled a rolling chair right up between Hannah's legs. "Um-hmm, um-hmm," he muttered, nodded, then wheeled over to Mercy who was still crying and vibrating like she was being f.u.c.kin' electrocuted. "I must say, Mercy, yours is a case of pubic hirsutism unlike any that I've witnessed in nearly sixty years of practicing medicine."

"Huh?" she whined.

"It means you've got the hairiest p.u.s.s.y he's ever seen!" I yelled to her.

"Oh..."

Then he wheeled over to me, took his peek, and stood up. "Well, girls, I'm happy to say that there are no prevaricators among you. You are all, incontestably, virgins."

"Great, doc," I said. "Can we go now?"

"Not just yet, Ann. You see, being the sorority's physician on call, I am ent.i.tled to a privilege or two. But it will only take a minute," and then the old f.u.c.k opened his pants.

"You've got to be s.h.i.tting me," I muttered.

He pointed to Hannah, said, "Eeeny," then to Mercy, "Meeny," then to me, "Miney," but when his finger was halfway back to Hannah, it shot right back to me.

"Moe."

"Oh, come on, man!" I yelled. "That's unfair as s.h.i.t!"

"I'd prefer the word 'untoward, but, yes, I suppose it is." He grinned, showing dentures. "I'm afraid there's just something about you, Ann."

"What? I gotta blow you ? Gimme a break; you can't get it up! You've got to be eighty!"

"I'm eighty-six, actually, Ann, but I'm in tip-top condition. Why, I'd wager my blood-pressure is lower than yours." He pulled his d.i.c.k out of his shorts and, of course, it was hard and big. Then he took out a tube of vaseline and put a big blob of it on his k.n.o.b. "But you may rest easy. f.e.l.l.a.t.i.o is not my intention at all. I'd much prefer penetration, and you needn't worry about my putting your virginity in jeopardy. You see, and as they called it in the old days, the nether-orifice is much more to my liking."

"Terrific," I said.

"Nether-what?" Mercy bawled.

"He gonna f.u.c.k her in the a.s.s," Hannah whispered.

Dr. Willet stepped right up, pulled my cheeks apart, and slid that eighty-six-year-old hard-on right in. I'd done it enough times that it was no big deal anymore, and it never hurt. You just kind of relax and push out a little. But this old f.u.c.k hadn't even stroked one time before he looked at me over his spectacles and said, "Why, Ann, I see that your a.n.u.s is certainly no stranger to the admission of a p.e.n.i.s on occasion..."

"Maybe fifty or sixty, if you gotta know."

"Splendid! I simply adore a truly seasoned woman," and then the old crank wrapped his arms around my thighs and started banging away. Hannah and Mercy were both sitting up on their tables, watching through their fingers, and Zenas just stood there rubbing his crotch grinning with that big redneck white-trash shuck-and-jive backwoods grin.

It took the doc, like, fifteen f.u.c.kin' minutes to come, and by then my b.u.t.t felt like a b.u.t.ter-churner.

"Ah," he said, and, "Mmm," and then I could feel it squirting up my rear. Then just like that, he wiped his d.i.c.k off on my smock, zipped up, and said, "Thank you, Ann. And to all of you, you have my very best wishes!" Then he went back into his office.

High heels ticked across the floor; it was Kezzy who'd just waltzed in, that fake smile lighting up the room. "Congratulations, girls. The three of you have just pa.s.sed your first day of initiation as Alpha House pledges. You may do whatever you like with the remainder of the evening."

Well the first thing I did with the remainder of the evening was run to the bathroom and s.h.i.t that codger's c.u.m out of my a.s.s. Just knowing it was there bothered the h.e.l.l out of me, and it bothered me even more knowing that I also had not one but two samples of Zenas's c.u.m in my stomach. When I was done sitting on the bowl, I turned right around, rammed my finger down my throat, and got that out of me, too. It was mostly that yogurt that came up, but I knew Zenas's j.i.z.z was in there somewhere, so at least I felt a little better. Then I turned on the shower buta"

No water came out.

For f.u.c.k's sake! The sink worked and the toilet flushed, but the shower was a no-go. So I washed up, went back into the dorm room, and put on my nightgown. Hannah and Mercy were both asleep, but they were both kind of quivering under the covers, like they were having bad dreams.

Can't say that I blamed them.

In the hall, I saw that only a few lights were on downstairs, but it wasn't even past nine o'clock so I didn't see any harm in knocking on Kezzy's a" correction, f.u.c.kin' Kezzy'sa" door. I wanted to take a shower, d.a.m.n it, and it was ridiculous to think that the showers could be broken in a decked-out house like this. But when I knocked...

No answer.

I opened the door a crack. "Miss Kezzy? Sorry to bother you but our shower's not working..."

No reply.

I looked in then, and all the lights were out. She wasn't in bed. Probably boffing that sc.u.mbag Zenas, the b.i.t.c.h. The last door before the stairs read ALPHA HOUSE LIBRARY. Maybe she's in there, but when I tried the door, the f.u.c.ker was locked. Not a sound downstairs. I milled around the dining room, living room, checked the laundry room, the kitchen, but Kezzy wasn't to be found. There was a big-a.s.s quadruple-door fridge like they have in restaurants, and I thought a second about peeking in and grabbing something but didn't. That 'ho's got hidden microphones all over, so she's probably got hidden cameras, too. I was f.u.c.kin' starving but I knew my luck, which was always bad. If I even opened that door, she'd know, and I'd either get kicked out for stealing or have to lick her a.s.s again. No thanks.

I caught a glimpse of another door in the kitchen corner, with window panes. I looked outside and saw the backyard. Like the inside, the outside was something to write home about. A courtyard, fieldstone paths, a gurgling fountain with underwater lights, flowerbeds all around. There were no other lights except the ones in the fountain, but the door was unlocked so I figured it'd be okay to step outside. No one said I couldn't, I reasoned. I wandered around in the moonlight for a while, and it was really creepy how still everything felt. I followed some hedgerows past the flowerbeds, and when I peeked around a"

There she is!

The backyard was longer than I'd thought, and past the hedges and flowerbed was a gazebo built near the high brick wall that bordered the property. Only a tiny candle was burning, and there, at a table, sat Kezzy, reading a book. But that wasn't the first thing I'd noticed.

The first thing was that Kezzy was stark-friggin' naked.

Kid you not. There was the prim and proper Senior Sorority Sister without a st.i.tch on, reading this book. All I could tell was it looked like an old book, and bigger than most. I didn't want to say anythinga"like about the shower a"'cos the whole scene was a bad vibe. After a minute, though, she closed the book, leaned back in the chair, and put her feet up on the table-edge.

Then she started playing with herself.

I don't f.u.c.kin' believe this! I thought.

Her head was back with this dreamy look on her face. I stood there a while and looked at hera"jealous as s.h.i.t. Her body was so beautiful. I'd already seen her play with herself twice today a" once, mind you, with my face stuck between her a.s.s-cheeks a" so this was something I could do without. She was murmuring while she was doing it, but I couldn't hear the words. f.u.c.k this, I thought, and went back inside. I figured I'd just go upstairs and go to bed, and try not to think what tomorrow might bring. But something stopped me when I was halfway across the living room...

Hanging over the mantle of the giant stone fireplace was a big portrait. There were a bunch of paintings in the house a" most of them old a"but I hadn't really looked at any of them except for that painting of the ridiculous old shack in Kezzy's room. I turned on a lamp and stared up at this one, though, 'cos all of a sudden something seemed captivating about it.

It was a painting of some fussy-looking guy with a pointed goatee, wearing a cloak with a flapped up collar. Under his arm was a big book with metal hinges. The book looked damaged, beat up, with tan leather that was all scuffed. Just some dude from a long time ago, I thought, but then I noticed a little bra.s.s name-plate on the bottom of the frame. It read: Joseph Convan, Esquire & Gentleman of the Colony of Rhode Island.

b. February 28,1662 d. April 12,1711 Could this be... I started to think, but then, No. The name of the guy who founded the college was Joseph Curwen. Curwen and Corwan were similar, but it had to be a coincidence 'cos according to the land deed upstairs, Joseph Curwen took ownership of the land in 1750, almost forty years after this Corwan guy kicked off...

No big deal, buta"

Something nagged at me now. The nameplate? I'm not the most observant girl in the world but I did observe this: the painting was obviously real old, and so was the frame, but that nameplate looked brand-new. I squinted at it and an indentation around the platea"an indentation in the frame's wood a" almost as if an original plate had been removed and this new plate had been screwed into its place, only the new plate was a tiny bit smaller.

Hmm, I thought. But why would I care? Why would I even notice this?

From the kitchen, I heard the door to the backyard click open, so I switched off the light and scooted back upstairs. It had to have been Kezzy, and I didn't want to explain why I was gaping at this old painting; plus, I didn't really want to see her naked again 'cos her body just burned me up. She got born with that, and I got born with this. What a ripoff.

When I got back inside my room, though, I kept the door opened a crack...

Couple minutes later, here comes Kezzy, nude as suspected, and with that book under her arm. She unlocked the door to the library, went inside, then came back out and relocked it. Then she went to her room and that was that.

Weird s.h.i.t...

I fell asleep fast but had some real dog-s.h.i.t dreams. First I dreamed that that dude in the painting, Corwan, was jerking off in my face but when he came, I could see his c.u.m landing on me but I couldn't feel it. I was paralyzed in the dream, and all I could do was lie there with my mouth cranked open, while this guy shot his dream-load right in my mouth. f.u.c.k. Then Corwan disappears like a ghost, and guess who's standing there a little later?

Zenas. Only he's not wearing the maid get-up now, he's wearing a ballerina suit, the tutu, the little slippers, that deal. I try to yell, "You look ridiculous!" but I can't 'cos I'm still paralyzed, so then the a.s.shole blows his nose in his hand and smears it into my mouth. "Ee-yuh," he chuckles, "thar's some redneck marmalade fuh ya, fattie." Yeah, what a sport, huh? Of course, I can't blame Zenas 'cos it was my subconscious mind that created the s.h.i.t. Anyway, after that the dream turns black, and I'm just lying there for what feels like hours and hours, until it occurred to me that I must be dead, but sometime later, the blackness fades and it's Kezzy climbing onto the bed. She squats very daintily over my head, then plants her t.w.a.t right on my mouth. "Get me off," she whispers, so I start eating her out, and though I've never done anything like that before in real life, I'm kind of liking it in the dream, and I'm kind of liking her, too, which makes absolutely no sense. She starts twitching and then comes in my face, whispering, "That's lovely, that's lovely," and then a snake shoots out of her p.u.s.s.y and goes right down my throat so far I can feel it wriggling around in my stomach.

After that I thought I woke up, but I know I must've still been dreaming, because the darkness in the room is real grainy and it's actually moving, and I hear these words, or at least thought I did 'cos they were really low, and the words are kind of moving too, just like the darkness. The words, gibberish, sounded something like this: "Shub neb hyr'ik eb hyr'k. Ogthrod ai'f geb'l, ee'h yog-sothoth," over and over and over for hours and hours, and I'm sure it was Kezzy's voice speaking the gibberish.

I woke up to the sound of the highest-pitched scream I've ever heard, and I started screaming myself and so did Mercy and Hannah, and then the lights snapped on. Thought my heart was gonna pop, but then I looked over my top bunk and saw Zenasa"correction, f.u.c.kin' Zenas a"standing there in his maid's suit.

"You d.i.c.k!" I yelled.

It was no one screaming; it was that d.i.c.kbrain blowing a f.u.c.king referee's whistle.

"Rise'n shine, girlies!" he cracked, but the rube p.r.o.nounced "shine" as shan. "Git'chewer tired a.s.ses up'n aout!"

I looked at the clock on the desk and saw that it was 6 a.m. Zenas threw a pair of these ludicrous cotton-candy-pink sweats on each of our bunks. "Yew got five minutes to be aoutside in back!" then he walked out.

"That f.u.c.ker," I mumbled. I climbed down and saw that Hannah was still shivering from the shock of that whistle, and Mercy a"the little wuss a"was actually crying.

"Why did he do that?" she blubbered.

'"Cos he's a d.i.c.k in a maid's suit, and we've still got a week of hazing," I told her.

"Five minutes, he said?" Hannah belly-ached. "We don't even have time to take showers!"

"Wouldn't matter if we did 'cos the showera"correction, the f.u.c.kin' shower a" is busted." I took off my nightgown, was about to step into the sweat pants, but thought, Holy s.h.i.t, and then put them to my face and sniffed. "These sweats stink!"

Mercy took a sniff, too...then started crying again.

Anyway, we did the gig. What choice did we have? It was just more of Kezzy's twisted humiliation bulls.h.i.t. Figured she was gonna make us jog up and down sorority road in stinky, hot-pink sweats so we'd be the laughing stock. Oh, and the best part?

My sweats were so many sizes too small that I looked like I'd been spray-painted.

"Good morning, pledges!" Kezzy greeted in the backyard. The haughty b.i.t.c.h was wearing shorts, a tube top, white Nikes with little pink sockies, and a day-glo-orange baseball cap with her perfect blond f.u.c.king ponytail sticking out the back. "Exercise time. A fit body makes a fit mind."

The stink wafting up off our sweatclothes was making us gag. "Miss Kezzy, these sweats f.u.c.kin' stink, and we couldn't even wash 'cos the f.u.c.kin' showers are busted."

She walked up and pinched my nose. "Oh, you eloquent one, you. The showers aren't 'f.u.c.kin' busted Ann. I merely shut the water off. And, yes, your exercise apparel may well 'f.u.c.kin' stink but that's the idea. Countless pledges have worn those before you a"pledges who pa.s.sed initiation, by the way a" so you can appreciate the symbology."

"Symbology!"

"Think of the sweatclothes as having been tinctured by the success of past pledges, and hope that their feminine essence will rub off on you. It's for good luck."

Great. B.O. was good luck now. But what could I do? Nothing, I told myself. Just grin and bear it...and STINK.

In the morning light, the backyard looked a lot bigger than it had last night; there were more gardens than I'd realized, and a couple more fountains. Birds were hopping around on the gazebo where Kezzy'd frigged herself off while reading the book. I hadn't noticed the giant barbeque and tennis court, either.

And I also hadn't noticed the pile of rocks.

That's right, toward the west stone fence sat a pile of rocks, and it was a big pile a"I mean, like twenty feet wide and five feet high. Looked like chunks of granite.

Hannah raised a shaking hand. "Mmm-Miss Kezzy. Whuh-why is there a big pile of rocks over there?"

"Because you girls," Kezzy explained in a smart-a.s.s singsong voice, "are going to move them over there" and then she pointed to all the way over to the east stone fence, where we could all see a big bald spot on the gra.s.s.

"We're not the first ones to wear these stinking clothes," I said, "and we're not the first ones to move those rocks..."

"Very perceptive," Kezzy said. "Now you best be quick about it. You don't want to be out here when it starts to get hot."

"Come on," I said to the others. "Let's not b.i.t.c.h about it, let's just do it," and then we all grabbed our first rock and waddled it over to the other side where we started the new pile. In sweat-clothes? We didn't want to move rocks in sweatclothes once it started to get hot, like, probably around 11...

It was four f.u.c.kin' o'clock in the afternoon by the time we finished. You probably always hear about how cold Ma.s.sachusetts is in the winter, but in August? It gets hot as h.e.l.l. Kezzy was sweet enough to give us temperature readings every hour; by four it was almost ninety.

We felt dead when we dropped the last rocks. Every muscle in my body ached a"s.h.i.t, even my fat ached. Hannah fell down a bunch of times, and Mercy, s.h.i.t, she was crying for the last two hours. And we were cooking the whole time. Our cotton-candy-pink sweatclothes turned maroon real f.u.c.king fast from our sweat, and we stank so bad we had flies following us. Worst part was just thinking about it: old sweat-stink mixing with new sweat-stink. s.h.i.t, I was marinating. Kezzy let us go to the gazebo to get in the shade when we finished, and that's the first time I was ever happy to see Zenas. He was pouring us each a big-a.s.s gla.s.s of something to drink.

"Ice-cold sweet lemonade, girls," Kezzy said. "You've worked hard today and you all deserve it." We all grabbed our gla.s.ses at the same time, took a big, welcome ice-cold chug, but thena"

We blasted it all out of our mouths at once.

Zenas was honking laughter, and Kezzy had a giant grin on her face. It wasn't lemonade, it was straight lemon juice.

We all hit the ground on that one.

"Curn't ya take a joke?" Zenas chuckled. It was everything I could do not to kick him in the d.i.c.k. He threw us each a bottle of water, and at least that wasn't f.u.c.ked up.

"I'm very pleased, ladies," Kezzy said. "We don't want weaklings and fussbudgets at Alpha House, we want women who finish what they start," but when we looked over, we saw that she was standing twenty feet away.

"Miss Kezzy?" I asked, sopped in my reeking sweatclothes.

"Um, why are you standing way over there?"

"Well, if you must know, Ann, I'm standing way over here because, quite frankly, you girls stink worse than a garbage dumpster. "