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CHELSEA’S F.
N. P.C.
By Charles E. Campbell
CHAPTER 1
THE NEW INITIATE
This is, of course, a work of fiction, from my mind only, no inferences should be drawn to real people or places. It was written, and is posted here, solely for the enjoyment of the reader.
Chelsea Waverley was a stunning girl. Sixteen. 5' 6". Long straight sun toned honey golden hair. 105 pounds. Full thick pouting lips. Her 32C chest always enshrouded in some delicious Victoria’s Secret push up demi- bra, underneath a skin tight sleeveless scoop neck T. Form fitting Levi’s always accentuated her firm taut butt. In short, a natural beauty. No make needed, or used, here. Popular. Head Cheerleader, Honor Society, Swim Team Co-Captain, Drama Club, Chorus, Junior Prom Committee, and Vice President of the Junior Class at Sachem West High School. Not pretentious. Not pompous or an arrogant snob. Just.......charismatic! The ideal kid. Adored by the faculty, envied by the girls, lusted after by the boys.
She had a steady boyfriend. Jeff Meacham. A running back on the school Varsity football team. She kept him perpetually dangling on a string. Sure, they’d made out in his car after a movie, or a dance. And a few times she had even let him cop a feel when she was feeling particularly generous, but that was it. And it wasn’t as if she was “saving herself” for her wedding night or anything as cliched as that. Nope. She held back just to control Jeff. Make him so her bidding. Always hoping that he might get lucky and score. In the mean time, Jeff drove her every where. He paid for her movie tickets, bought her popcorn and soda, and anything else she wanted. She had the best of it all.
Chelsea had a group of four girls. We were inseparable. We all shared a common bond that welded us tightly together into a very close knit group, and Chelsea was the undisputed self-appointed head of the group. What she said was accepted as law. No questions. No arguments.
Chelsea was an only child, living alone with her father, Charles Waverley. Her mother had succumbed to cancer when she was only six. Her father was the CEO of some large Manhattan firm and he kept long hours, but he made sure his only daughter wanted for nothing. The latest cell phone, credit cards, two lap tops, MP3 players, any gadget, any new fashion, she had it first. She drove a brand new Aqua Pearl White Lexus RX 350 AWD. A present from her father when she passed her road test.
Every Friday night, at 6:00, the five of us girls would assemble at Chelsea’s house. It was an unwritten, unspoken ritual. None of us accepted dates for Friday nights, and none of us would even consider skipping out and not being in attendance. It wasn’t any problem with the boys we dated, because the boys had their weekly F. N. P.C. gatherings. The Friday Night Poker Club was an exclusive, boys only, group that met each Friday at a different member’s house, where they would play Texas Hold ‘em until somebody won big.
Chelsea “borrowed” the initials of the boys poker group, and referred to our gathering of girls as the F. N. P.C. as well. But for all of us, the meaning was very different, and far more symbolic.
Each Friday, we would order in: pizza, Chinese, whatever we fancied. Chelsea always paid with one of her credit cards. Her dad liked the idea that she had friends over on Friday nights, because he always stayed very late on Fridays, having a standing date with the same woman from an exclusive Mid-town escort service. He thought he was discreet, and he thought Chelsea was naive, but he was wrong on both counts. His daughter had known about his weekly doings for more than four years already.
With Mr. Waverley not around a lot, Chelsea had a lot of time to herself in the big house by the golf course. She had become very adept at using her computers and trolling the net. She discovered porn at ten years of age, and her penchant for it only grew and broadened in scope as she went through puberty. She was even a subscriber to a few of the sites that she really liked, and they were the really heavy S & M bondage sites from Europe. Really graphic stuff, not cute models loosely tied with soft ropes. These sites featured real people who lived the scene 24/7.
We were all about the same age. One of us was fifteen, little Anastasia. Three girls was sixteen; Blair, Lauren, and Chelsea. And me, my name is Hanna. I was the eldest at seventeen. Each week, after we had finished eating dinner, and had our fill of the usual gossip of high school teens, we would adjourn single file, to Chelsea’s bedroom. Chelsea would adjust the track lighting so it would act like spot lights on a stage. Once there, one by one, from the youngest to the eldest, we would all strip naked as the rest of the girls watched. All, that is, except Chelsea. She was in charge, and that meant remaining fully clothed. Typically she would wear a loose white gown with thin straps. It was made of a flimsy sheer material, and it clearly showed that she was naked underneath.
Each one of us kept our privates cleanly shaved, and we all wore a thick gold ring with a disk hanging from it in our left labia. The disk had F. N. P.C. engraved on one face, and TorD on the reverse. These were the symbols of our little group. Chelsea was also bald, and she wore the same disk and ring as the rest of us, but it was never shown to the rest of us in private and intimate settings, and almost never before the whole group.
Once we were all naked, we would stand in a circle facing inward. Each one of us would then reach to our left with our right hand and insert our middle finger into the pussy of the girl to our left. After swirling it around a bit, we would all reach to our right and dip the same finger into the pussy of the girl to our right. Again, after swirling the finger around, we would reach across the circle and repeat it with the girl opposite us. When we had done it with every member, we then pushed the same finger as deeply as we could into our own pussies, mingling the juices of each member with our own, within us.
Our silent pledge had been made and the weekly meeting of the Folds of the Naked Pussy Cult would now begin.
For the next hour or so, we would gather round one of the two computers Chelsea had and we would look at whatever internet porn she deemed appropriate for the night. It never seemed to take very long before our fingers would find our hard little clits and we’d start rubbing. None of us had the slightest qualms about masturbating in the group. After all, it was one of the bonds that welded us as one.
When Chelsea felt we had enough, the porn was shut off, and we would assemble in a circle seated on the floor, our legs splayed wide. This signaled the start of our weekly game of Truth or Dare, (TorD). At the outset of the game, the truths and dares were always pretty mild. Questions like, “Having you ever caught your parents doing it?”, or “Have you ever jerked your boyfriend off?”, or “Has your mother ever caught you playing with yourself?” The early dares were also pretty tame, like, “Kiss the girl to your left, mouth open!”, or “Squat over a bowl and pee while we all watch!”
When Chelsea tired of TorD, she would toss a large antique stone die into the middle of our group. Chelsea had found the die in an obscure shop in Greenwich Village when she was five years old and her mother had taken her for a walk downtown. The numbers on the die were still very bold and highly ornate in design, each number crafted from some mythical beast. There was a dragon, a Phoenix, a unicorn, a Satyr, and two others we couldn’t identify. Chelsea had each of the six numbers correspond to one of us girls. Again, it was always in age order. So, number 1 was Anastasia, 2 was Lauren, 3 Blair, and I was 4. Being the leader, Chelsea was exempt. If the numbers 5 or 6 came up on a roll, then we would all have group sex on the rug as Chelsea watched and stroked herself under her gown. If one of our numbers came up, then that girl was selected as slave for the night, and she was subject to the whims of the group.
Anything went. From mild to harsh spankings, tickling. Anything at all. One time, on a cold snowy night, little Anastasia’s number was thrown. Anastasia hadn’t finished puberty yet, and her small breasts were barely more than buds. Chelsea came up with the brilliant idea that were should all adjourn to her back yard. Coats and boots were allowed for all, except that is for Anastasia. She was to remain naked. A four against one snowball fight started the activities. The shivering little girl was pummeled from all sides. She had no chance at defense. After that, we forced her to make snow angels, both on her back and belly.
When we went back into the bouse and up to Chelsea’s room, we wrapped the frozen girl in blankets while she slowly warmed up and got control over her shivering.
The slave for the night was usually made to endure verbal abuse, oral servitude, being bound, and penetration with various objects that we all took turns inserting, both anally and vaginally. When we broke the group up, around 11:00, our parents would pick us up, never suspecting for a minute what had gone on with their “little” girls.
For eight consecutive Friday nights, a new girl had been attending the F. N. P.C. meetings at Chelsea’s. Her name was Shaina, and she was my fifteen year old sister. A bit on the short side of 5' 1" tall, and a slightly plump 118 pounds, her 36D breasts were capped by a pair of 4 inch pancake areolas. Shaina was hoping to be accepted for membership in the F. N. P.C., and she had been going through the ringer at the hands of Chelsea and her “girls,” as she now referred to us.
Each week, when Shaina arrived at the Waverley’s house, she was required to strip naked at the front door before even being allowed to ring the doorbell. Some evenings, Chelsea made her wait out there alone, frightened and naked under the front door light. She was also required to spend the entire evening naked, unlike the members, who only stripped after dinner was over. Additionally, Shaina was given all the nightly chores; ordering the food, meeting the delivery person, (naked), setting the table, serving the meal, and cleaning up the dishes. She wasn’t allowed to talk to any of us, either in the house or anywhere else, for that matter, including at school. The only exception to that rule was when she was in our home. There she was allowed to talk with me, but only if one or both of our parents, or our younger brother, was present. She was forbidden to discuss the F. N. P.C. with me. She was not allowed to shave anywhere, or even trim her considerable bush, which caused her quite a lot of embarrassment at swim meets and practices, as her thatch was dense and thick, spreading far beyond the meager confines of her racing suit. As a last requirement, Shaina had been made to carry five sealed zip lock bags with her at all times in her purse. Each one of the bags contained a used tampon from one of the five of us.
Finally, at long last, a Friday night was chosen to be the big night for Shaina. It was to be decided that night whether or not she would be admitted into the sacred circle, and if she was accepted, she would become a member of the F. N. P.C.
That night, after we had eaten dinner, we all lounged around the living room watching music videos while Shaina went about her chores cleaning up from the meal. When she was through, we all climbed the stairs, single file, to the second floor and Chelsea’s bedroom. Chelsea made Shaina crawl up the stairs behind us, on her hands and knees, barking like a puppy the whole way. When we reached the bedroom, Chelsea made Shaina assume a dog’s begging posture and watch as the four of us went through our stripping ritual and then did our pledge. For that night, the porn videos were forsaken. In their stead, we went straight to the Truth or Dare game. That night, there was to be a difference. Each of the five of us would get one TorD with Shaina being the recipient of each one. Every one of us knew that her acceptance into or rejection from the group hung on the outcome of the evening’s game.
As with the stripping ritual, and every other thing we did, the order of the participants was chronological, which meant little Anastasia got to go first. Taking her place under the spotlights she asked Shaina, “Truth.........or Dare?”
Without a pause, Shaina replied, “Dare!”
“How far have you gone wit a boy, when and where?”
I could instantly tell that Shaina had a secret she had been hiding just from the sickened look on her face. She was about reveal some hidden truth that even I didn’t know, and we, supposedly, kept nothing from each other!. All of our eyes were on her, as we waited her response. Shaina lowered her head and answered, “I sucked off my date when I was fourteen at the 8th grade dinner dance. I did it in one of the stalls in the boy’s room.”
The shock must have registered on my face, because Lauren picked up on it and said, “Hanna, you didn’t know?”
“No. I didn’t.” I felt betrayed.
“Lauren,” Chelsea called out. “Your turn.”
Lauren and Anastasia switched places under the lights, and she repeated the all to familiar query, “Shaina,..........Truth......or Dare?”
Still reeling from the last one, Shaina answered, “Dare,” without a moment’s thought.
Lauren knew what her Dare would be, as she immediately ordered, “Okay. I dare you to take an ice bath for fifteen minutes!”
Shaina shuddered at the thought, because it was only two weeks ago that she had watched as Lauren suffered in an ice bath when her number had turned up on the stone die. Shaina’s head sunk to her chest when she heard Chelsea order, “Shaina, go to the freezer in the garage, and bring back six bags of ice.” She then told me to fill the bath tub with cold water, admonishing me that if the water was not ice cold, I would take a thirty minute ice bath after my sister got out of the tub.
Shaina crawled off to the garage and I went into Chelsea’s bathroom to fill the tub. It took Shaina three trips to bring the bags of ice up to the bathroom, and when it was all dumped into the tub, by Shaina, Chelsea surveyed it and decided that more was needed, and she sent Shaina for four more bags of ice.
With Chelsea satisfied that the water was cold enough, we all watched as Shaina bravely stepped into the frigid water and lowered herself into it up to her neck. Only her head was above the bobbing cubes. Within minutes, her lips had turned blue and her pancake areolas had shrunken under her thick rock hard nipples. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably. “Ten minutes remain,” Chelsea announced as she glanced at her clock radio.
Poor Shaina was numb to the cold by now, and felt as if she was unable to move. She lay perfectly still in the icy waters of the tub, trying to focus on lasting it out, and getting accepted into our group. “Five more minutes,” came Chelsea’s announcement after what must have seemed like hours to my sister.
Her mind was now totally consumed by the cold. Her shivering and chattering had become so violent that the water was splashing out of the tub. Finally, after what must have seemed an eternity to Shaina, Chelsea decreed, “Time!”
We all helped Shaina from the cold waters, as she had been rendered powerless to help herself out, but no one offered her a towel to dry off or rub herself warm with. Her unusually pale skin looked ghostly, with a blue tint to it. One look from Chelsea told Shaina what She expected, and Shaina stiffly dropped to her hands and knees and crawled back into the bedroom for the next TorD.
Next up was Blair, a skinny little brunette with sharp pointed cone-shaped breasts. She had a thick nasty looking scar running between them as the result of some major chest surgery she had undergone when she was twelve. “Shaina.........truth,.......or..........Dare?”
Still frozen to her core, Shaina replied weakly, “D....d....dare.”
“I Dare you.....to.............climb the tree in Chelsea’s back yard as high as Chelsea says!”
‘Always the suck up,’ Chelsea thought. ‘I’ll give her a good run the next time the Die calls her number!’
We all adjourned the bedroom for the back yard and gathered around the base of a red oak. The trunk was about fourteen inches in diameter and it’s bark was very rough. The lowest branches were just out of Shaina’s reach, so she was forced to jump up to grab one, causing her pendulous breasts to flop around obscenely.
Tugging and pulling with her arms and legs, she was able to get into a sitting position on a fairly stout branch. Scrapes on her breasts and thighs showed the effort it had taken to reach even this low height, but she continued climbing. Some of the scrapes and cuts were starting to bleed. Finally, when she was about even with the windows on the second floor of the house, Chelsea sais she was high enough and that she could climb back down.
We all followed Chelsea back into the house, leaving Shaina alone to get back down and rejoin us in Chelsea’s room. She wasn’t cold any longer when she joined us. Sweaty was covering her brow, her matted hair hung in clumps over her face, here and there small twigs had gotten entangled in it. Out of breath from the exertion, Shaina resumed her begging position and waited for the TorD she must have dreaded most. Mine!
Slowly, and very deliberately, I took my place under the lights, fully aware that my perfectly proportioned body was the envy of all the girls, especially Chelsea! After reveling in the attention I was getting, I said, “Shaina. Truth, or Dare?”
“Dare,” she replied, never looking at me.
“I dare you to walk around the block naked and barefoot. Walking only, you may not run or jog. You are allowed to hide yourself only once on each side of the block, and you may not save up your hides, so even if you make it all the way on one street without hiding, you still get only one hide on the next street. Understand?”
“Y.....yes. I do.” Shaina had once confided in me that she had a deep and terrifying fear of being seen naked, so I know she must have thought I would exploit that knowledge, especially after I had learned of her secret from middle school.
Chelsea told Blair, Lauren, Anastasia and me to put on our jackets and shoes and position ourselves on each of the four streets, in order that Shaina’s circumnavigation of the block could be witnessed, and that the rules were strictly adhered to. After Chelsea allowed us five minutes each to get into our prescribed places, she sent Shaina on her way around the block. Naked.
Shaina’s eyes frantically scanned the street for people in the windows of the houses, and for cars coming down the road, all the while concentrating on walking, not running. She had only gotten past two houses when she spotted a car backing out of a driveway about twenty feet to her left. Diving behind a low hedge, she flattened herself on the cool grass, and tried to stay as still as she could while the headlights swept over her naked prostrate form.
After the danger had passed, and the car had moved up the street, she started walking again, very nervous now that she had already used her only hide on this street and there were still four more houses to go until she would turn the corner and regain a hide.
As she approached the corner, she saw a set of headlights coming from her right, and she slowed her pace a bit, praying that the car wouldn’t turn in her direction. Her luck held, as the car turned and drove away in the opposite direction. Rounding the corner, she spotted people getting out of a car three houses up. Cars were parked all along the block on both sides of the street. A fairly loud party was in progress. The people were more concerned, however, with getting to the festivities and didn’t even notice the naked teen walking toward them on the sidewalk.
Shaina made herself not look towards the party house as she strode by, focusing instead on the rest of the houses and the street. She felt a slight bit of relief that she was half way through. Then, one house later, a car turned the cornet behind her, taking her completely by surprise. The only cover she could find quickly was an old maple tree between the sidewalk and the curb. She pressed herself tightly against the not quite thick enough trunk, as a village police car slid slowly passed. She tried to time her movement around the tree with the passing of the patrol car, so as to keep the tree between the two of them. When the police car went through the next intersection, she abandoned her hiding place and once again started walking. Fear was starting to grip her, as she saw there were still eight more houses to pass, and she had used her one hide on that street.
Suddenly, two houses up, across the street, the front porch light came on, and a young boy, maybe ten or eleven, came out with his dog. Shaina knew she couldn’t hide, and that neither picking up her pace, or slowing it down, would be of any help. She just started repeating, like a mantra, “Go the other way. Go the other way.........”
It didn’t work. The boy looked both ways, and crossed the street to her side. He hadn’t spotted her yet, but it was a sure thing that he would. When he reached the sidewalk, his dog let out an ominous growl, and turning, he saw her coming, stark naked, bathed in the light from a street lamp, one house away. The boy stood stock still, keeping a tight reign on the leash as the naked girl kept walking right toward him! The dog was tense, and still growling as she neared them. The boy said nothing as she walked up on a lawn to get around them. Shaina felt the sweat running from her hairy armpits, but she held her head up high and walked past him as if nothing was amiss. The boy was stunned, but he started following her, a few paces behind, his eyes glued to her plump ass cheeks as the jiggled lightly with each step. It was Lauren who was monitoring this street, and she giggled with glee as she watched Shaina in her humiliation and embarrassment. When Shaina turned the corner for the final leg of her trip, I was there to bail her out. Stepping between the boy and my sister, effectively blocking his path. I lifted my jacket and flashed my bald pussy at him saying, “You go home now. This’ll be something for you to tell your little buddies about!”
Frightened by my presence, he turned tail and sprinted with his dog back toward his house and safety.
Shaina made the rest of the trip without incident, and walked up the steps to Chelsea’s house. She knocked, and the door opened right up. “Hands and knees,” Chelsea commanded. Shaina crawled back up the stairs once again and went into Cheslea’s bedroom, where the F. N. P. C. waited.
We had all taken our positions sitting on the floor in our circle, legs spread wide, pussies open. Chelsea sat in her chair,, overseeing the scene. Shaiuna crawled into the room and resumed her position as a dog begging.
Cheslea rose and stepped into the center of the circle of our naked open legs. “The time has come to decide if we wish to make our circle larger, and admit another pussy into the Folds of the Naked Pussy Cult. As you are all aware, the vote must be unanimous. If anyone dissents, then the initiate will be turned away.
“Anastasia, how do you vote?”
“I vote to accept Shaina as a Naked Pussy, Chelsea.”
“Lauren?”
“I too vote to admit Shaina into the Folds, Chelsea.”
“Blair?”
“I vote Shaina to be a Naked Pussy.”
“And, lastly, Hanna?”
I looked at Cheslea for a moment, and then at my naked little sister in her begging posture. I was still somewhat angry that she had withheld her tale of the 8th grade blow job, but, I also knew her well enough to know that she must have had a good reason. “I vote.........that we accept Shaina into the Folds as well, Chelsea.”
“The final vote is mine,” Chelsea said, looking at each of us, one at a time, eyeing our spread legs and open pussies. “I agree to widen the circle, and admit Shaina as our sixth Naked Pussy.”
We all jumped up and hugged Shaina, smothering her with kisses, and fondling her breasts and hairy pussy. When the excitement ebbed a bit, Chelsea said, “Blair and Lauren, prepare the Initiate and bring her to the dining room.”
“Yes, Chelsea,” they intoned as one.
“Hanna and Anastasia, the two of you will prepare the dining room for the ceremony.”
“Gladly, Chelsea,” I answered.
Blair and Lauren took my sister by the hands and lead her into Chelsea’s bathroom to begin her preparations for the induction ceremony, while Anastasia and I went downstairs to set up the dining room. After we had all gone, Chelsea went to her dresser and stood before the huge mirror looking down at the antique jewelry box that sat in the right in the center. It was a black enameled wooden box which had passed through her late mother to her from her grandmother. It was her most prized possession.
Carefully lifting the lid, she slowly removed the upper tray, revealing a small black velvet bag at the bottom of the box. She took the bag out, replaced the tray and shut the lid. Chelsea headed for the kitchen, where she put a pot of water on the stove to boil. As the water was heating up, she opened up the velvet bag and removed a long thick piercing needle. It was the exact same needle that had been used on all the F. N. P. C. Girls, including herself. Each member of the Folds had her left labia pierced by Chelsea, and it was she who placed the ring and disk in everyone of us. She had even done her own in front of me and Lauren.
Meanwhile, upstairs in the bathroom, Lauren and Blair had gotten a pair of scissors and were carefully trimming the dark bush at the apex of Shaina’s legs. The two girls were very skilled at cleaning up that area. It was an unstated fact that each Friday, before coming over to Chelsea’s that these two girls would meet at one of their houses and shave each other clean.
When they had gotten the pubic hair trimmed as closely as safety would permit, they got into the hot shower with Shaina, and began to slowly wash her body and shampoo her hair.
Anastasia and I had gotten out dozens of candles and had encircled the dining room with them. We lowered the intensity of the chandelier, and had placed a clean white sheet on the table. We were done with our task, and sat down to await the rest of the Cult.
Chelsea boiled the needle in the water for fifteen minutes, along with a pair of forceps. She examined the ring and disk and found them to be to her satisfaction. She had them specially made for her by a small old jeweler in a neighboring town. His craftsmanship was impeccable, and he never asked questions.
Blair and Lauren had finished bathing Shaina and shampooing her hair, so they took razors and started shaving her, beginning with her armpits. When they were smooth, the two girls knelt in the steaming water and started on her thatch, careful not to nick the delicate pouty lips. Blair worked her way around to the rear as Lauren pulled down on Shaina’s shoulders, saying, “Bend over.”
Blair shaved the crack and all around the tightly puckered rear hole. When they was satisfied, they stood her back up and shaved her legs from the crotch to her ankles. Their task completely, they all got out of the shower and they patted her dry, gently, all the while inspecting for any missed hairs.
Chelsea removed the forceps and needle from the scalding water and placed them both in a sterile gauze pad from the first aid kit in the cupboard. She found a black marker and a high intensity lamp on the sideboard and brought all the tings to the dining room, where she found Anastasia dn I talking quietly Anastasia was very excited, as this was the first ceremony she would witness as a participant. She had been the last girl inducted into the Folds six months prior, and she was excited about watching the ceremony.
When Shaina was dried off, Lauren brushed out her hair while Blair powdered her body, applying copious amounts to her armpits, but avoiding the pussy entirely. Satisfied that Shaina would pass Chelsea’s muster, Lauren placed a dark red stain bag over Shaina’s head, and put wrist and ankle cuffs on her. Before leaving for the dining room, Blair locked the wrist cuffs behind Shaina’s back.
As they entered the dining room, Lauren and Blair stood on either side of the hooded initiate, and waited. Chelsea sat at the head of the table with Anastasia and I on either side of her, our right hand middle fingers buried deep in our pussies.
“The initiate has bee prepared as to your wishes, Priestess Chelsea,” Lauren said in a slow practiced drone.
“Well done, Sisters. Place her on the altar.”
The four of us encircled Shaina and waited as Blair unlocked the cuffs from behind her back. We helped get her on the table and made her lie down on her back. Each of us took a short length of chain and locked it to the one of the cuffs. Taking the chin in our hands, we pulled on our chains, stretching Shaina out on the table spread eagle. An offering to our Priestess.
Chelsea paused for a few minutes, allowing Shaina to lie on the table and feel the helplessness of her situation. Hooded, her arms and legs pulled out and away from her. Sure that Shaina sensed her plight, Chelsea placed a candlestick with a burning red candle on either side of Shaina’s sagging breasts. She took another pair of candlesticks, much lower ones, and placed them on either side of her hips. Then, she picked up a short stout candle, eight inches in diameter, with three burning wicks, and placed it right against the freshly shaven wide open pussy.
Shaina jumped a bit at the sensation of the cold candle against her wet lips.
“The sole purpose of our Clan is the worship of the Naked Pussy,” Chelsea recited ritualistically. “It is the portal to our very soul. The essence of our femininity. It is the center of our being. The giver of life. The reason for our existence.
“The Naked Pussy is forever to be held in the highest esteem, and We keep it as a constant reminder of who We are. It is with this fixity of purpose that We gather here tonight to initiate Sister Shaina into Our Labial Folds. Forever marking her as one of Ours.”
Chelsea paused and looked at each of “Her girls.” All of our eyes cast downward at the naked offering we all held bound on the altar. Each of us doubtless reliving our own initiation. Only Chelsea and I had not undergone this rite, as it was the two of us who founded the Cult, and Chelsea decided upon the formal ritual later, when we were planning on brining Lauren into the Folds.
“Gaze upon her Pussy, My Sisters. Look at it shining and gleaming in it’s awesome and regal splendor. Open. Proud. For all to understand and grasp it’;s glory and unquenchable power.”
All of us stood transfixed, Shaina’s pussy the object of our adoration. The wetness evident from so deep within. “Her Pussy, is now Our Pussy. We all share in it’s mysteries and splendor.”
Chelsea took away the candle from between Shaina’s splayed legs and replaced it with the high intensity lamp, illuminating the labia which would soon receive the gift of the ring.
Taking up the forceps in her right hand, Chelsea pulled Shaina’s meaty left outer labia back, further exposing the hole it had been entrusted my Mother Nature Herself to guard. Examining it closely, Chelsea made Her decision as to where the ring would be placed. Switching hands, She took the marker and placed a dot to guide her for the entry and exit points of the piercing needle.
Shaina’s stomach was a mass of knots as she felt the pressure and tugging on her lower lip. She feared that the pain would be more than she could bear, but she desired the ring more than anything she had ever wanted. It was just the knowledge of how she would receive it that filled her with fright.
Chelsea put the marker down and again took the forceps in Her right hand. Lining up the marks in the center of the forceps, she clamped them tight, pinching the soft Fold inside the metal clamp. A soft chirp escaped from Shaina when the sharp pinch of the clamp bit her, but otherwise she remained silent under her shroud. Chelsea took the forceps in Her left hand and took up the thick 6 gauge needle in her right, holding it up for each of us “Girls” to behold, and remember. Fortunately for Shaina, the hood prevented her from seeing the object that was about to stab through her, because I know she surely would have fainted instantly at the sight of it.
Without further delay, Chelsea touched the tip of the needle to the black dot she had lined up in the forceps, and began to ever so slowly push it through. She always did it as slowly as possible, firm in the belief that the experience should be as painful as possible, and last as long as possible as well.
Shaina gritted her teeth as a white hot pain from the needle seared the receptors in her brain. Stoically moaning, summoning all her concentration to not scream, her body tensed as she pulled against the chains which held her fast to the altar. She felt a tearing sensation, and the needle was through. A channel had burrowed through her. She felt the pressure ease as the forceps were unclamped. Chelsea let go of the needle, allow it to dangled from the pink skin. I wiped away a tear that had formed in the corner of my eye. Testimony to my little sister’s bravery.
Chelsea picked up the ring and disk for the Sisters to see. “Behold the Ring and Disk of the Naked Pussy Cult, which will from this day forth, mark Sister Shaina forever in the Folds of Sisterhood.” She pushed the ring into the hole, forcing the needle out the other side. A tiny droplet of blood followed the retreating needle. Chelsea took a pair of pliers and opened the ring just enough to insert the ball that would hold it in place. Then, with her right index finger, she dabbed at the drop of blood. Holding the finger up, she said, “Behold, a Sister’s blood.” We all watched as Chelsea placed her finger in her mouth a sucked Shaina’s blood from it.
“Remove the hood, and unbind our new Sister. Re-order yourselves for the procession, and return to My chambers,” Chelsea commanded, sweeping from the room and turning for the stairs.
We set about taking the chains and cuffs from Shaina as we helped her sit up slowly and took off the hood. Her face was ashen, but beaming with pride. I held a mirror between her legs so she could see her new ring and disk. We formed or processional line, with Shaina following Anastasia, because she was two months older, and we climbed the stairs to Chelsea’s room, single file.
Entering the room, we found Chelsea in Her bed, under the sheet, Her gown tossed carelessly to the floor. I knew what was expected of us. I placed Anastasia to one side of the luxurious queen size bed at Chelsea’s left. Next was Shaina to Her right, followed by Blair to Her left next to Anastasia, and Lauren next to Shaina. I took my place at the foot of the bed.
We held our positions, standing erect and still, faces tilted down, eyes closed. Shaina was confused, her eyes darting all around, searching for a sign as to what was expected. I looked up and sensed her insecurity. She watched me as I slowly and deliberately removed the sheet that covered our Priestess, revealing her naked body on the bed. “Worship the Naked Pussy, Shaina,” I ordered, pointing to the open Pussy of Her Priestess.
I helped Shaina get up on the bed between Chelsea’s wide spread legs. I pushed her head forward, burying her face in the moist furrow. I made sure she stayed on her knees, so her Pussy was displayed as well. As Shaina began her ministrations, we all dipped our right middle fingers into her Pussy, and then into our own, as well as each other’s. Over and over again the ritual continued until Chelsea cried out and shook in the throes of Her orgasm. I helped Shaina get down from the bed, and reverently replaced the sheet covering Our Priestsess’ nakedness.
Chelsea sat up against the huge fluffy pillows, pulling the sheet up to cover her tiny breasts. “Cum for me, My servants of the Folds. Mingle with each other, and worship the divine Pussy.”
We fell to the floor at the foot of Chelsea’s bed and began licking, sucking, rubbing and nibbling each other as we rolled about on the floor in a tangled heap of young flesh. The orgy continued until; we had all collapsed on the floor, sexually sated. The F. N. P. C., had a new Sister in the Folds.
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