Shy freshman Gina Wesley wants desperately to get into the greatest club her college has ever known. Standing in her way is the gorgeous Max Devlin.
She will now be subjected to five different levels of initiation . . . involving metal clamps, mysterious bondage contraptions, huge dildos, exhibitionism, and more rock hard cocks than she has ever experienced.
Definitely not for the fainthearted!
OPEN YOUR LEGS FOR ME BLINDFOLDED AND SPREAD-EAGLED THIGHS WIDE APART TEACHER, PLEASE SPREAD MY PUSSY THE FINAL INITIATION
OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES THE INITIATION 2: Open Your Legs for my Family, Bend Over for my Family, Publicly Display Yourself for Me, Sex Slave at Sea, Paraded before the Billionaires, Sex Slave at the Auction
THE INITIATION 3: Sex Slave to the Dictator, Shackled by the Dictator (NEW!)
"Very well written. The author seems to have a good grasp of how to write about this subject."
Linda Erwin, Smashwords
"(Rating:) OUTSTANDING . . . a fast paced sexy story."
Sarki at Bookstrand
" . . . this book is . . . one of those ones which you can go back and back again. . . it was highly erotic"
"This was a skillfully written, extremely filthy . . . made me wince in more than a few places. It's perfect for what it's meant to be."
S.M. Reine, Goodreads
He is standing very close to me, so close that if I take one step forward, I would slam against his chest. His arm muscles are magnificently contoured and his bronzed skin is silky smooth and tight. I wonder how he would look like oiled. I can smell the sweet scent of his aftershave, mingled with sweat. Goose bumps gather on the backs of my thighs.
He seizes my right wrist and holds it up. "Would you do everything I tell you to?"
His grasp on my flesh is tight. I feel tears springing to my eyes.
"Good," he says.
My knees are starting to buckle. He jerks his sculptured chin to the direction of the bidet.
"Now go over there and squat on the rim."
He lets go of me as abruptly as he has seized me. I almost fall backward, but regain my balance in time. My thumping heart is in my throat. It would not do to appear graceless in front of Max Devlin.
I trot to the bidet, studying the bewildering array of taps and nozzles circling its perimeter and dotting the generous bowl. It is complex, I decide, more torture instrument than sanitary device. The rim is fairly wide with the seat down; through it would be precarious to balance upon it on my heels.
Devlin rasps, "What are you waiting for, freshman?"
Warmth floods my cheeks as I climb onto the bidet. It is easier to sit upon it first, my bare buttocks circling its oval aperture, and then to gingerly hoist my slipper-shod feet onto its broad seat. I'm terrified of appearing clumsy. Devlin never takes his eyes off my crotch, revealed now and then - I'm sure - by the betraying hem of my short, short dress. A flush suffuses my breasts and spreads all the way down to my belly.
I finally face him - eyes downcast and cheeks aflame - in my squatting position. My legs are wide apart. My dress has ridden up my thighs to reveal the shaven area between them. My wet pussy lips are finally exposed to Devlin's hot gaze. My slender nub throbs and quivers in cool air of the bathroom. The moist hole of my vulva gapes above the deep basin of the bidet, and just behind it, separated by only a thin sliver of flesh, my anus puckers wide open.