Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Rape, Fiction, Gang Bang, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Cream Pie, Voyeurism, Double Penetration,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Toby Wakefield tells of his experience when he and fifteen of his fraternity brothers participate in a gangbang with Marcia Zillich. You may remember Toby from Penguin's Preference. At breakfast the next morning Toby discovers that the wild girl of last night is a very sweet young lady. She asks him for a date for the next Saturday where she tells the story or her kidnapping in Viet Nam, the beginning of her odyssey.

It was strange the way I met her, first while singing limericks in the Corner Bar. For a third quarter college freshman it was a marvelous treat. I was a pledge for my fraternity, one of the most prominent on campus. As a pledge I had no status in the brotherhood. I did better than most pledges though, because my brother was a member. He was in flight training in Pensacola at the time. The actives liked him and were sorry to see him go. Because of him I already knew that a number of the brothers had accepted me on his behalf and cut me a little slack as a pledge. That’s why I felt comfortable drinking beer with the brothers that night.

Ordinarily on Friday nights I went home to Burling Heights, 30 miles away. I had a job at a gas station there where I worked twelve hours on both Saturday and Sunday. I usually went home to be fresh for my early shift at 6 am. The gas station was shut down for the week though because they were replacing the old steel, underground gas storage tanks. This night seemed more raucous than other nights at the bar and we were loud and boisterous in the singing of our nasty limericks. It was just before eleven when the brothers sitting on the side of the table that faced the entrance suddenly gawked toward the entrance. Todd Wheatley said, “There he is.” Bill Barton added, “ ... and here SHE is.” Quickly everyone at the table looked toward the door with expressions of anticipation that one might expect from dogs at a kennel when food was coming. Woozy from chugging beers I had no clue about what the excitement meant.

Along with the 14 other guys at the table who were looking toward the door I saw Jerry Willis coming through the crowd. He was a senior, a Korean War vet who had been places. I knew him because he and my brother were good friends. He was a marine, the service my brother Chance was to join after flight school. “SHE,” who Bill Barton referred to, walked ahead of Jerry as they penetrated the crowd. She was wearing blue Bermuda shorts which were popular with the coeds at the time and a light gray sweatshirt with BF Goodrich blocked in yellow letters across the rise of her breasts. She wore blue knee socks and white, low cut tennis shoes. Her face was kinda plain yet attractive, stood about 5’4” and had a great body: a curvy, wasp-like figure with average sized breasts. Her ballerina’s legs complemented a nice compact behind. Dark brown, wavy hair hung down to her shoulders. Something was definitely up; the expressions on the faces of the active brothers could have been those of kids waiting in line for their first ice cream cone. Completely in the dark I figured that the girl had something to do with the excitement but I couldn’t imagine what.

Jerry was the quarterback on the KSU football team; he was a straight-A student and was on the intra-fraternity board. Delta Xi—our fraternity—had taken a number of seconds and thirds for highest grade-point average but had never won first place. Being a natural competitor he was tired of taking guff from his contemporaries who continually ragged him that Delta Xi just didn’t have what it takes ... and it was his last year. I had no idea what the inducement was for the brothers to win the trophy but the shiny new award was now standing on a shelf in the crowded trophy case. To one who was not supposed to be involved, this evening would not only clarify how this girl’s presence influenced it, it would begin an association that some might consider mythological.

The year before Jerry Willis accepted his scholarship to play for KSU, Cuyahoga Springs High School won the state championship in football; Jerry was the quarter back. He went steady with a cheerleader by the name of Marcia Zillich. She was also his next door neighbor and first sex partner. But that was when they were fifteen, when she and her father moved next door. Marcia’s father was a doctor who at the behest of B.F. Goodrich spent a year in what had been French Indo China. When the French were defeated at Dien Bien Phu they left the country which was renamed Viet Nam. The company owned rubber plantations that abounded in the southern part of Viet Nam. Dr. Zillich’s wife had left him under strange conditions and left Marcia with him to finish raising. She was with him that year in Viet Nam. An incident which I’ll explain in the next chapter left Marcia with a sexual appetite that was well above the norm and she became promiscuous. Within a year of moving to Cuyahoga Springs she was known by many of the boys as a “nymphomaniac.”

It was Marcia who in their junior year introduced Jerry and his backfield to their first gangbang. The next year Jerry, a driven competitor, used Marcia as a bargaining chip to motivate his Cuyahoga Springs Trojans to win the state football championship. In a victory celebration in a suite at Columbus’ historic Deshler Hotel, she took on the entire team to honor Jerry’s promise. The outcome of that party morphed into a cottage business where Marcia and Jerry became equal partners. I of course knew nothing of Jerry’s dealings and thought Marcia Zillich was only a myth.

When Jerry and the girl made it to the table he said, “Hi guys I’d like to introduce Marcia Zillich.” She smiled broadly. We were gentlemen of sorts—something fraternities taught young men at the time and we all stood up. A few guys said, “Hi Marcia,” one said, “Welcome,” another “Good to see you,” a couple just gave nervous waves, thinking they were being cool. But they looked like what one day would be called “geeks.”

I, who always had a Dr. Zhivago-like, stare of wonder smiled and nodded. For some reason she held my stare and as if she was reminded of a joke she exhaled through her nose, chuckled and grinned. I supposed that she was amazed at how young I was. I was accustomed to that. Nineteen at the time I was only allowed to drink 3.2% beer by the state of Ohio. To Marcia I probably looked fourteen. Always youthful I would be carded until the age of thirty-seven when gray began salting my dark hair.

I remember how when Jerry introduced her as Marcia goose bumps pimpled my forearms and the back of my neck. I had heard her name spoken of in the fraternity house before. They were always bestowing these sarcastic awards named for people like “The Johnny Mize Award“ to the brother who was the poorest sport: “The Joseph McCarthy Award,” to the biggest prick, The Red Skelton Award, to the funniest and The Perry Como Award, to the best singer. In this case The Marcia Zillich Award was mentioned when talking about girls—usually sorority girls—who had the reputation for screwing the most Delta Xi’s.

The talk was of a girl from Cuyahoga Springs, just twelve miles from Kent. She was purported to have taken on an entire football team the night after they won the Ohio state championship. It was said that Jerry Willis, the quarterback on the team was her steady boyfriend at the time ... one of those stories which I considered to be BS. Guys were always telling about their unbelievable sexual exploits. As in Ivory Soap’s claim that their soap was ninety-nine and ninety-nine one hundredths percent pure, I knew that purity of young guys bragging about getting laid at that time was mostly bullshit. It was the same with those thirteen year old kids who didn’t even know what a pussy looked like when we were doing circle jerks. But they soon were telling stories of how they were plowing some mysterious virgin’s muffin.

Jerry, always cool, Introduced Marcia around the table. He was a muscular 6’2” with already receding blonde hair. As usual he held the floor like a pro. As Jerry made the introductions Marcia smiled and offered her hand to each of the brothers as if she were a political candidate. Most of the guys appeared tentative, nervous or both. When it came my turn to be introduced I didn’t expect to be included. But she gave me the sweetest smile and said, “I’m pleased to meet you Toby.” Actually I was thinking she might have called me ‘little one.’ I was glad she didn’t. Or maybe I didn’t hear it.

I saw Jerry whisper something to Marcia who gave a smile of agreement and nodded her head. He said, “Okay guys time to go.” Most got right out of their chairs; a few hesitated and looked at one another like they had no clue of what they were supposed to do but reluctantly got up. Realizing that I wasn’t going to be included I stayed in my chair next to my roommate—he wasn’t connected with the fraternity. I looked at him, shrugged and said, “Such is life.”

“What’s that all about,” Lenny asked.

“I haven’t got a clue,” I said, which was actually a lie. I’d been around enough to know that when one girl went to a party with sixteen guys it involved a special kind of math. How many times can sixteen go into one? The answer could be sixteen, thirty-two, or forty-eight depending on the time allotted. But that doesn’t take into consideration that multiple portals may be used. Nor is the factor of tool failure or stability considered. So coming up with a logical equation for the problem is extremely complicated.

The saying “loose lips sink ships,” were watchwords I took seriously. Having not been included in the heads up, I could not swear that my speculation was true. On the other hand, having been on an army base for six months I had sat in the salon of enough brothels to recognize the looks of anticipation or nervousness that I saw at the table. So if the Delta Xi’s who were walking out of the Corner Bar were heading to that kind of a party, a word to the authorities could have meant probation for the fraternity and possible expulsion of at least some of the participants. So, as I watched Jerry and his entourage leave I just kept my mouth shut.

As the brothers filed out just Marcia and Jerry were the last to go out the door. Just before they left I saw him bend his head down to Marcia’s upturned face. Marcia looked back toward the table where my roommate and I were sitting. She appeared to be whispering something in Jerry’s ear. Jerry looked our way, nodded his head and grinned. He headed back toward me at the table then said, “Marcia thought you would be coming too.”

I was puzzled about why she expected me to be included but realized that she probably had no idea that I was just a pledge. There was something that passed between us though when she said, “I’m pleased to meet you Toby,” and smiled at me in a rather inclusive way. I had no idea why. I think Jerry was glad because I was Chance Wakefield’s kid brother. Apparently he liked me enough to not be swayed by the opinion of the other active brothers. I was both pleased and uncomfortable. Knowing that he wouldn’t be coming, my roommate slugged down the last quarter glass of his beer and said, “See you in the morning Tobe.” I knew he would want to know what had gone on which, if it turned out to be what I expected, I would never divulge it to anybody unless it was far in the future, like now, fifty-nine years later.

Because it took more time for Jerry to come and get me the rest of the guys were well ahead of us, I’m sure wondering what the “scumbag of a pledge” was doing walking with Jerry and Marcia. The fraternity house was on Main Street less than a quarter mile from the Corner Bar. Marcia, holding Jerry’s hand, seemed totally comfortable and even excited about what was going to take place. She asked me, “How old are you Toby?” I told her that I was just a freshman but was nineteen. Her eyes lit up and she gave one of those nose snorting smiles that indicated some kind of mysterious knowledge.

Jerry said to her, “Toby’s brother is the guy you met at the going away party that we did for him.”

“Jerry,” she said peevishly, “You’re talking as if I don’t know Chance. He’s the guy who treated me so nicely at the party. He was so sweet.”

“I’m sorry Marcia,” I always get up tight when we’re headed to one of these things.”

“But these are your fraternity brothers.”

“That may be true Marcia but that doesn’t mean that there can’t be a one or two assholes when their true nature is brought out by beer and sex.”

“I don’t worry about that Jerry; you’re always there to protect me.”

There was a momentary silence that that lasted for too many steps. “Do you go to school at Kent Marcia,” I asked, “or are you at Akron U?”

Marcia casually answered, “I don’t go to college Toby. My dad got me a real good job at B.F. Goodrich. He’s head of their medical staff at the main plant. I’m a lab tech. And I’ve kind of started a business of my own.”

Most girls that I talked with who didn’t go to college usually talked defensively about why they weren’t going to school, or where they worked. But with everything I observed about Marcia so far, she seemed totally comfortable which made me think, If this is the Marcia Zillich I’ve heard about she’s certainly well put together mentally. I was feeling really comfortable with Marcia who, for some reason seemed to be interested in me. Or maybe I was just a kid overcome by false assumptions.

When we got into the house Art Franklin, fraternity president, started closing the drapes. Jerry stood in the middle of the room and said, “Alright guys, we’ve got to establish ground rules.” At a couple sarcastic remarks he said, “That’s right, ground rules. Get used to it.”

“First and foremost Marcia is our guest. She will be treated that way at all times. Despite what nasty names that might be going around in your minds she is a lady and will be treated that way. Yes, she’s different than any girl any of you have ever known. She has a comfort level with sex that I expect few of you will ever understand. Marcia Zillich is a better friend to me than most people deserve. As my friend she knows how important this scholarship trophy is to me—gesturing to the trophy case—and is glad that the hope of the reward of this evening provided a good part of the impetus for its achievement.” He paused and scanned those present.

“Marcia and I have talked about the layout of the house and have determined that none of the bedrooms will work. They all have two upper and lower bunks which are against the wall and won’t allow the kind of access that a party of this kind needs. So we’ll use the dorm. (The dorm was the attic with eight single bunks). Marcia is the expert and I have to agree with whatever space she feels more comfortable in.” He gave her a quick grin which she returned. “When I give her the floor you’ll be impressed at what a professional she is.” She whispered in his ear. “Oh yes, I know there are varying degrees of feelings about Toby Wakefield being here, mostly pissed off ones. It’s true he is a pledge and the scum of the earth—he gave a sly smile—and it is also true that he had nothing what so ever to do with Delta Xi winning the scholarship trophy. It wasn’t my idea to include him. But Marcia has made a special request...”

Marcia spoke up, “A demand.” She looked at me with strange smile and flashed it around the room. Still having no idea why I felt like I was on display.

“Okay a demand,” Jerry said. “Anyway most of you know that Chance Wakefield was a special member of this fraternity ... he was and is my best friend. Marcia chanced Chance and was particularly pleased (he laughed at his pun). When I told her Toby was Chance’s brother she insisted that I go back into the Bar and drag him up here. So there’ll be no bullshit tonight about Toby Wakefield, ok?” He looked around. To a couple of brothers who were scowling he said with a glower, “OK?” They shrugged and nodded. “Okay, here’s Marcia.”

There was loud applause, stamping of feet, hoots and whistles. Marcia stood in the middle of the room grinning and waving like the Pope. There was no question of how comfortable she seemed to be in this scenario. “Okay, okay,” she said after curtsying and bowing a couple times. “Time’s wastin fellas, let’s move on.” The brothers who had been acting from shy and squirrely to obnoxious and celebratory quickly became silently attentive.

“There’s a lot of BS that goes on among men,” Marcia started. “I know that some of you have gotten laid before but I’m of the opinion that there are at least a few that are still virgins. I’ll secretly rejoice with you that it was with me if you lose your cherries tonight.” For some reason she looked over at me and gave me an almost imperceptible smile, which probably indicated to the uninitiated my virginal status. But with a slight tilt of the head she silently said as much to me, “but I know you have.” How can she possibly know?

I’m so pleased that you have won this trophy—she gestured to the trophy case—and I so happy that I am Jerry’s gift to you. He loves this fraternity very much. And I am proud to deliver what Jerry has promised. I want you all to know that I dearly love sex; love its joys and its nastiness. I love men and I love your cocks. I love sucking and I love fucking.” She paused while the brothers hooted and stamped their feet. “I’m looking forward to enjoying every bit of what you can give me. I’m looking forward to your enjoyment and appreciation for what I bring to you, what you contribute to my body, leave in or on me is your gift to me.” She paused for a few moments in the midst of smuddling conversation to let the outlandish things she said sink in. I promise that by the time tonight is over I’ll be satisfied as long as all of you are satisfied.

Holding her hands up for attention the conversation quickly dwindled. “Some of you will last longer than others and some of you will cum almost immediately. But I want you to enjoy yourselves and I want to enjoy you. I am here for the night, I’m in excellent shape and can take whatever you can give me ... if you want me more than once my body is yours. There are no limits as to how many times you can have me.” She laughed, “Only in the number of times you can get it up or cum.”

After the laughter and hoots died to an expectant silence she said, “I’ll take you in groups of three. I don’t mind as many of you watching as want to but I’ve found that three is a logical number for me to deal with at one time in a situation like this—at least for starters. It’s the best way I’ve found in groups like this for me to keep things from getting out of hand. As the night goes on if you have questions about something kinky you would like to do just ask me and I’ll let you know if it is ok ... most things are. And I’ll direct you if I see that something different might work.” After allowing just a little conversation she went on, “Whoever is most comfortable with it can perform that ... um ... task.

If any of you are too shy to be naked with other guys fucking, it’s time to get comfortable with your minds and bodies.” She opened her arms, “And you’ll probably like this, I am completely disease free, my father checks me regularly. There’s no need for CONDOMS.” There was a burst of applause, whistles and hoots. “I like feeling the real man inside me with no barriers. And I like men to cum IN me ON me. And with the exception of my getting in my eyes, feel free to cum on any part my body.” She looked over at Jerry and asked, “Anything else?” He shook his head and said that he was cool.

“Ok guys; show me the way to the dorm so we can get naked and party.”

Seventeen people, sixteen students and a girl climbed up one flight of stairs past the bedrooms and main bath with two showers, thru the locker room with the card table in the middle of it. They snaked up the narrow, twisting flight of stairs to the “dorm.” The attic, where one could only stand straight up in the center where the beds were placed lengthwise across it on, was a large dingy space that stretched the length of the house. It was painted beige. Eight bunks spaced two and a half feet apart were in a rank under the peak of the roof. There were two windows at each end and two more dormered ones on either side of the roof. Between the two windows at each end in was a 48” wardrobe. At the foot of each bed, where the roof sloped low, was a military style foot locker placed on the floor. At the head of each bed was a low three foot chest of drawers with a table lamp. Two overhead lights on the ceiling cast a shadowy glare in a room that was two large for just two lights.

“Wow,” Marcia said with sarcasm in her voice, “You guys really live in the lap of luxury.” There was an accepting laugh among the brothers. Like a drill sergeant she took control, pointing to three bunks in the center of the room. “Take the covers off these three beds.” Shaking her head and guffawing like she was thinking I can’t believe I’m DOING this she went on, “We’ve gotta use more than just one, it would be completely soaked by the time we’re finished here. Push those five beds toward the street together so we can create more room in our ‘playground.’ You fellas who aren’t fucking me (she shrugged and grimaced) or whatever kind of perverted thing is being done to me, will want enough room to see the show.

When the beds were stripped and placed to Marcia’s satisfaction she said, “Turn on the table lamps at the head of these three beds and turn off of these damned overheads, I hate this glare.” Satisfied with the arrangement the Sergeant clapped her hands and said, “Okay buckaroos lets strip down for action. I’ll put my clothes on this footlocker here; it’s just for MY stuff.” She pulled her B.F. Goodrich sweatshirt off over her head, folded it and placed it on the lid of the footlocker. Standing in her blue Bermuda’s wearing a pink, lacey bra she said, “Common guys don’t be shy.”

While she was dropping her Bermuda’s and stepping out of them the brothers were stripping and finding a space for their clothes. By myself I knew I would be the last to be involved so I stubbornly stood close to Marcia and watched. She didn’t miss what I was doing, merely smiled as she stood upright and undid the clasp of her bra. With a demure smile she held my gaze as she shimmied the straps off her arms. My eyes were magnetized by her near perfect, ski-jump shaped breasts that must have been 36c’s. Her nipples and oval shaped areolas were a rich, almost light chocolaty pink. While still holding my gaze she dipped slightly and peeled off her pink laced panties, let them drop to her knees which she straitened then shook her panties off her ankles. As I ogled her beautiful image I wondered how this delicious, accommodating girl could have grown to enjoy this kind of sleazy sex so much.

I had mentioned that her face was plain, kinda like you might expect to see on a freshly washed pioneer woman. But while her body was Michael Angelo-spectacular I doubted that the master could have sculpted her so perfectly. As my eyes captured every line of her body Marcia’s eyes sparkled in the dingy room. With a delicate pout she murmured, “Thank you Toby.” Obviously she understood that I was a male who appreciated a woman beyond what I could do between her legs. She gave her eyes a flirty roll as the fingers of her left hand traced between her breasts, down her tight abs, toyed with her pussy-like innie navel to her pubic thatch which, for girls at the time, was neatly trimmed. She scratched her bush, fluffed it and, as if warning me that I had better go, she swept the back of her hand at me to “shoo.

I turned to where the bulk of the active brothers were standing in a kind of huddle. They were all fully naked in various stages of tumescence, standing in the shadows at the front part of the attic. Having always been interested in art they reminded me of Rodin’s huge sculpture of the Burghers of Calais. But the Burghers were only six and clothed. The shadows in the room made the brothers appear ghostly and the looks on their faces showed that they disapproved of me for doing something they wouldn’t have dared—willingly countermanding the instruction of the sergeant ... not to mention that I was forgetting that as a Delta Xi pledge I was the scum of the earth.

In the moment where Marcia was fluffing her auburn colored pubic hair two other things struck me: The light from one of the table lamps caught the significant sized diamond of a ring on the third finger of her left hand. Jesus I thought she’s engaged. Who... ? The other awareness was that Jerry Willis was standing alone leaning against the safety railing of the stairwell, taking in the scene between Marcia and me. He was shaking his head and grinning as if to say, “You asshole, the apple doesn’t fall from the tree does it. You’re just like your fuckin’ brother.” It appeared that he was there to oversee the proceedings rather than participate.

So that I didn’t further piss anyone else off I quickly tore off my clothes and threw them on the floor. When Marcia clapped her hands and barked, “OK TROOPERS LINE UP” it was another call-out to military order. Having hurried not to be late I made sure that I was last in line. Having been the only male present with the exception of Jerry Willis who had actually gone through military training, I was accustomed to the humiliation of a drill sergeant teaching his troops to follow blindly. The guys, already pissed off that I was there, were even more perturbed that I had the balls to actually watch the “entertainment” undress. Being naked as a jay bird I didn’t want to be further singled out. Jerry, with his arms folded, just watched and smirked. He appeared to love how Marcia was handling the situation.

“TEN-HUT,” she called. “PREPARE FOR INSPECTION.” Two of the guys standing side by side looked at the other and laughed. YOU’RE AT ATTENTION GODDAM IT, EYES FRONT.

Out of the corner of my eyes I caught Jerry giving a slight nod of approval along with a grimacing smirk. This was apparently a routine they had worked out: A delicious, naked woman with a crowd of young, naked, beered up guys could be the recipe for a gang rape. Having been trained in the military myself I knew the importance of control through discipline. The armed forces had obviously done it enough times to figure out that it worked.

Drawing to attention I felt silly but watched Marcia out of the corners of my eyes. It was amazing to see this incredibly well built, naked girl barking at her troopers like a sergeant preparing to go on parade. Because I hurried to catch up I hadn’t noticed that she had acquired a black swagger stick, tapered at one end with a chromed ferrule at the top. Like a drill sergeant she slapped the swagger stick in her left armpit and held it place with a small portion of her arm. Strutting to Art Franklin, Fraternity President she made a crisp military left face and barked, “REPORT.”

Obviously intimidated Art stammered, “I-I d-don’t know what you mean M-Marcia.”


“Oh it’s Art, Art Franklin”

“One Art is sufficient trooper.” With a totally cold face she took her swagger stick from under her arm with her right hand and placed the tip under his now totally flaccid penis. It looked like it could be large when erect but was currently drooped over the swagger stick. “You’re standing at attention very smartly Mr. Franklin. I hope this limp thing stands at attention smartly and for a long time during the invasion.” Art gave her a wimpy quasi smirk. She flipped her wrist administering a sharp sting to the bottom of his scrotum which caused him to reflexively jerk his ass backward. Marcia right faced, took a step in front of Todd Wheatley, Vice President. She left faced and said, “REPORT.”

“Todd Wheatley sir.” Like all of us Todd was growing nervously eager to play the game. Up and down the row most of the penises were growing in some state of turgidity. Todd’s was tumescent and arcing to a plump almost 5” projection.


“YES SERGEANT,” Todd said with a stone face.

She lifted his penis with her swagger stick and said, “It looks like you are proud of your weapon trooper. But will it perform in battle?”

“That remains to be seen Sergeant,” he said with the nervous fear of an assault on his privates.

In front of Bill Barton, Treasurer, she barked, “REPORT.”

He answered “BILL BARTON, SERGEANT,” so loudly that moisture flew out of his mouth. He was ROTC, horny and standing at full erection.”

“You don’t have to spit in my face trooper,” she said. With a quick whip of her wrist her swagger stick stung the head of his penis, a trick nurses use to make an erection go down in the hospital. Wheatley’s wilted like a balloon that slipped out of a child’s mouth while being inflated. “You’re the third man on the beachhead trooper. Make sure your weapon is properly assembled.”

“Yes Sergeant,” Barton said with smarting sibilance, his eyeballs bugging acknowledgement of his stinging helmet.

With rehearsed wit and her own references to each guy’s manhood Marcia repeated the process. Selly Goldman flexed his cock and she slapped the side of his hip hard enough to leave a red mark. After fifteen minutes she finally got to me and I was fully erect, all 7 ¾ inches of me. When I reported, she said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “AH, THE SCUM OF THE EARTH. MAYBE WE CAN BEGIN HELL WEEK EARLY TONIGHT. YOU CAN CLEAN UP THE MESS ASSHOLE, WHICH I PROMISE WILL BE SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET.” She winked with her right eye so the brother on my right couldn’t see it. “Nice cock Toby,” she formed with her lips, “Cant’ wait to feel it inside me.”

“ON MY COMMAND, COUNT OFF BY THREES.” The officers went first then, each by three, we counted. In the fifth group I was dead last. With a forgiving smile Marcia said in her husky, mellifluous voice, “Okay guys,” Enough of the bullshit. Let’s have some fun.”

The “bullshit” was a necessary evolution. In the few years since Marcia earned her reputation in Cuyahoga Springs as a “nymphomaniac” she needed a way to avoid chaos. It was good fortune that her father bought the house next door to Jerry Willis’s parents. She soon became the surrogate for Jerry’s twin sister who had died of leukemia two year’s prior. At fifteen she was already more sexually advanced than he, soon taking his virginity. With an appetite that demanded more she began sharing her gifts with a couple of Jerry’s pals. It ended up one Friday night after a football game in the rec-room of Jerry’s parents’ house (they were away for the weekend). Jerry had a beer party with seven boys from the starting team. No girls were included in the party. Because Marcia had had sex with two of Jerry’s best buds, twice in a threesome including himself, Jerry was afraid the party might get out of hand with boys high on beer if girls were there, especially Marcia.

Next door, upstairs in her own bed, Marcia heard the boys’ laughter and couldn’t resist the overpowering push of her “condition.” She sneaked over to Jerrys house, walked in the door and deposited herself in the midst of the party. It has been often and correctly said, “Boys will be boys.” Coupled with Marcia being Marcia, a gangbang was inevitable. The problem: two macho, egotistical boys who couldn’t handle their alcohol. First they were crude to Jerry’s surrogate twin, one of them calling her a slut. Then another, while fucking her, slapped her face so hard that he gave her a black eye. Jerry bloodied the first guy’s nose and his two pals’ harshly beat the other one, throwing both out of the party

Notwithstanding Marcia’s nonconforming proclivities Jerry became obsessed with a need to protect the girl that he had come to love so much. Had she been his real twin there would have been no option, he would have always gone to the mat for her safety. To him, though Marcia was both the embodiment of Lareen and the object of his sexual definition and, in spite of her sexual gluttony she was his own true love. At the same time she was a means of sharing his love with his best friends.

Seeing how Marcia in her wildness during sex would lose sight of her best interest and personal safety Jerry literally became her manager. During his time in the military and fighting in Korea he constantly worried about her. But when he came back he took control with an iron fist. Marine discipline worked even for persons of the lowest class and least education. So even if the charade was tacky to the drooling guys in Marcia’s “events”, it always established order before uncontrolled sex began, setting in the minds of the participants that there might be consequences if they got out of line.

As Marcia loosened the tightness of discipline the session loosened and there was laughter: some clapping, a couple cheers but no whistles or hoots. Once again the vulnerable female was—protected by her surrogate twin—safe to pursue her obsessive, perverted sex. Jerry didn’t care about the label of Nymphomaniac; Marcia’s actions fed his sexual appetite. At the thought of those hard, soon to be spurting cocks filling Marcia’s body, Jerry was unconcerned. If it worked for Marcia he would support the needs of the girl he wished was his twin.

Marcia lined up her first three men. Their backs were to the full length mirror on the wall next to the stairwell. This gave her a view of most of the naked men who would all be stroking their hard cocks. She knew that someone—maybe a few—would not be able to keep from ejaculating prematurely. If they didn’t do it on her back or her hair she at least wanted to see as it happened, if she could. Taking a pillow from the end bunk she dropped it on the floor in front of the man in the middle, Todd Wheatley, whose penis she had smacked with her swagger stick making it go down. Franklin and Barton both had substantial erections so she wanted to get Wheatley back into playing condition with her mouth as quickly as she could. Dropping to her knees she took his cock in hand, kissed the head, looked up and smiled as she said, “Poor little guy, I’m sorry I made Peterkins go limp. Does he still hurt Todd?” Todd blushed and shook his head no. His erection was quickly regenerating. She took him in her mouth and moaned, slurped and grunted as her hands were stroking Franklin’s and Barton’s.

As I watched I marveled at what was happening. At the same time my own sexual exploits traipsed through my mind. From the time I was 15 ‘til the time I went away to basic training I had numerous threesomes with Roy Warren and his twin sister who lived next door to us. But when I saw Marcia go down on Art Franklin and masturbate Todd’s and Bill’s cocks to erections, it was like watching some kind of weird play. I felt sure this was going to happen when I had seen everybody leaving the Corner Bar. Now that beautiful girl was naked with her back to me. It was a surreal experience to be seeing hers and the naked backs and butts of the guys she was pleasuring, as well as the rest of the naked brothers in the mirror.

She pulled off Wheatley’s cock and leaned to the left, fondling Franklin’s balls and covering his cock with her mouth. Fucking it slowly five time she pulled off and said, “Oh Art your cock is so good, you’re gonna make lots of women happy.” She held the wet prominence against her face like it was a doll and murmured “cocks, cocks, cocks, I love them SO.” Leaning to the right she suckled one of Barton’s nuts. I heard her say, “SHIT,” as she felt the first spurt of his warm cum graze her right ear, settle on her right shoulder blade, followed by two more arcing shots that laid a line and started sagging down her back. She heard Franklin and Barton chuckling and laughter from behind her. The view in the mirror thrilled her—thirteen naked men all stroking mostly rigid erections. Looking up at Wheatley’s face, she saw a child that had broken his new Christmas toy and commiserated, “Don’t worry sweetie, I feel like the owner of a new bank who has just received her first deposit ... And I LOVED it.”

Everybody laughed at her witty comment and marveled at what she said next, “But I’m so sorry Toddy; you’ll have to go to the back of the line.” With a sweet smile she said, “But it isn’t as bad as you think, you can still get in front of that scum of the earth Toby Wakefield.” Again the drill sergeant barked, NEXT IN LINE. Jerry smiled and shook his head as his star performer hit the jackpot once again.

I knew that I had to pay a price for being in a place where I wasn’t supposed to be but I had to grin and bear it. In a way I at least felt good about having been part of the act. In my mind I was somewhat arrogant. I knew that most of these guys hadn’t actually done the sex they boasted of. But knowing the nature of guys I didn’t let it bother me. My own circumstances included Kathy Warren who was now a beautiful young woman attending John Carroll University in Cleveland. It at least gave me a kind of bragging rights even though I never talked about it. The situation with the nuns was such good luck that even I still found it hard to believe. {See Penguin’s Preference}

As she stroked Art Franklin and sucked Bill Barton, while stroking her new charge Spike McClain, Marcia felt badly for Todd Wheatley. It happened every time ... and usually to one of the first in line which meant that he was a person of importance to the group. She knew that every male had the fear of “popping,” a definite gig to their manhood. And she knew that others, in their first experience with sex, or being voyeurs who overzealously jerked off, would do that same thing. Though she knew that a number of people referred to her as the “village punch board” and had their disrespect, Marcia alone knew the reason why she was so compelled to do it. What would have happened had Daddy never taken me to Southeast Asia she would think? At the same time she was a mother hen and one of her chicks had just been hurt. But with the excitement that surged in her body as she felt Bill Barton’s cock flexing in her mouth she prepared herself for this evening’s first taste of what she considered “Nectar of the God’s.”

I had the sense that Marcia didn’t enjoy sending Todd to the back of the line. And I felt a little sympathy of my own as the brothers demeaned him for popping too soon like a kid with his first hard-on. Had anyone suggested that Toby Wakefield would be standing in line for over an hour and a half waiting to put my dick inside a woman who had been defiled by such a gaggle of “scholarly” fuckers, I would have told them they were out of their minds. But I was fascinated by the implausibility of what was happening: a herd of berserk, grasping revelers swarming over and defiling a woman that willingly offered herself for such an invasion of her femininity. In my experiences with Kathy and Roy I was almost part of the family. We were three teenage friends enjoying each other’s bodies and the threesomes were both thrilling and cuddly.

But in the attic of the fraternity house it was a weirder set of circumstances. When she took on the first few guys Marcia started out friendly and witty, she was having fun. But as she took another then another of the fourteen brothers and me she got wilder and more spacy. As I watched her suck, stroke and take shot after shot of cum I couldn’t resist the urge to masturbate. I felt wickedly thrilled and was even one of the guys who, ejaculated on her body while she was working on four cocks. That was before Bucky Vincent poked her in the ass. I remember feeling euphoric when I spewed my semen on her. But Instantly I felt shamed. By that time though she didn’t seem to know who was doing what to her. Though she was still yelping and shrieking her eyes had become glazed like she was on some kind of Voodoo drug. She was pink with the effort of her exertion but wild-eyed like a horse in a burning barn. Her messy body glistened with ejaculated sperm and her hair looked freshly moussed. But the longer it went the more eager I was to participate in this sordid sexual rite. Expecting her to wind down I realized that I was watching the Duracell Bunny of collegiate fucking, the Timex watch that takes a lick’n and keeps on tickin.

On top of Ben Schmitz Marcia was lying on her back with Al Maurer between her legs, each cock driving like pistons in her ass and pussy, their scrotums brushing each other’s as they DP’ed her. Each hand flailed the boners of two other brothers while she slurped a mouth full of Harvey Roth’s cum. She gurgled: laughed, yelled and shrieked—all the while with a kind maniacal yet far off stare that seemed to be looking for the approval from some kind of sex god. From the front of the attic Marcia Zillich seemed to be in soul-stirring euphoria. But up close I realized she wasn’t there at all.

Had anyone told me that I would be among sixteen guys, standing in line stroking my cock while waiting to climb on the already befouled woman on the bed I would have told them they were crazy. I had discovered sex with a neighbor girl—both of us innocent adolescents, pursuing it with youthful glee. I had had sex with nuns in a convent, discovering the beauty of satisfying desperate human needs, yet here I was next in line willing—no, eager—to participate in this perverted hunger feast. But in reality it was no different than mob hysteria.

There was no snarling of teeth or forced rape ... these were to be my brothers after all. Bonding? Yes. And we would all have a remarkable story to tell for the rest of our lives. But for most of us there would be no pride in telling the story, just the incredible fact that it happened. Most of us would never breathe a word about it. As we assessed it we realized that there was a compulsion in Marcia Zillich that none of us understood. Yet every one of us took advantage like crazed animals. I even wondered if hers was a mental state that called for a shock treatment to stabilize her brain. At the moment her shock treatment was the overpowering sex and satisfaction of a group of guys.

It was 2:17 when the party broke up. Marcia was sound asleep on the middle bed. Those brothers who slept on those three beds chose to go downstairs and crash on couches. Jerry was covering her up with decent blankets.

“Is she alright I asked?”

“She’s knocked out,” Jerry said.

“But the bed’s nasty Jerry, can’t we at least get her into another bed?

“She’ll be out like a light ‘til sometime in the morning Toby, maybe even until noon. Don’t worry about it, she’s done it before.”


“Can you look after her Tobe?”

I wanted to move her but Jerry was adamant that she stay where she was. “It’s like she has been drugged Toby, we’ll never wake her up. I’ve tried it before.”

“Are you going to take her home?” I asked.

I was upset, upset mostly that I had lowered myself to be part of this pack of animals. Jerry saw my struggle and said, “You’re just like your brother Toby, you’re both nice guys. “Stop beating yourself up Toby. Marcia’s not a normal girl; she has different itches that have to be scratched, obsessions that nobody understands. Let her sleep, she’ll be remorseful in the morning and will need someone she can trust. I have to go to work at nine and work until five. Can you look after her, take her to breakfast or lunch and take her home?”

“Why me?”

“Because she likes you Toby, she likes your brother and has sized you up that you are like him. She wanted you here because she knew I wouldn’t be here to look after her and take her home when she woke up.”

“There are fifteen other guys here Jere. I’m just a fucking pledge.”

“When she saw you she told me she wanted you, that’s why I came back to get you. She’d never trust these other guys. Will you do it?

I felt cornered, “This is a fine fraternity that I’ve gotten myself involved with Jerry, a bunch of guys that a girl can’t trust. Has my brother ever been involved with her like this?” I hoped he would say no.

“Not like this Tobe,” he said. “But he has been “involved” with her as you say.”

“I hope he never finds out,” I said. “I would hate for him to know that I...”

“Stop it kid, you’re being holier than thou. Chance would have been standing there naked with his dick in his hand just like you. But he would have been the first one in.”

“He’s never been an officer,” I countered in my brother’s defense.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jerry said, “he’d have been first and nobody would have gotten in his way.” He smiled at me indicating that all we were saying was nothing more than two guys bullshitting. “So you’ll do it?”

All morning I was like a mother hen, running up to the dorm to make sure that nobody was bothering Marcia. To be honest they were probably keeping a wide berth, Marcia’s hair was all crusty and the beds she used, including the ones she was in were a little ripe. But I kept sneaking up and peaking to make sure she wasn’t awake. I scrounged up a decent towel and wash cloth, some soap and a small bottle of shampoo as well as a hair dryer. I found a robe in locker and laid all the stuff on the foot locker with Marcia’s clothes.

At about12:30 I peeked from behind the safety railing again and saw her stirring. “Psst.” She bent her head back and spied me on the stairs and moved her head to indicate come here. I sat down on the edge of the mattress feeling like I didn’t want anything on the bed to rub off on me. She gave me a twisted smile, snorted and said, “I’m a mess,” then looked at the robe that was covering her clothes and asked, “Can you get that robe for me Toby?”

She spread the robe over the blanket, sat up, pushed the blanket down under the robe and pulled the robe over her chest and shoulders. Thinking of all of the nakedness in the room just hours ago I chuckled inwardly at the modesty that was now taking place. “Stand up Marcia,” I said, “I’ll take the robe and quickly help you on with it.” The appreciation in her eyes spoke volumes.

I carried all of her clothes, the towel and the hair dryer and supplies as we snaked down the stairs, showing her to the bathroom with the two showers. It was empty. I stood guard as she showered. During the half hour she was in the shower a couple of the brothers came in to take a pee, both of whom rolled their eyes with leering grins. It was funny, ordinarily they would have been hard-assing me as a pledge. But all morning they were cognizant of my role. Mostly they were respectful of Marcia. I was afraid someone might turn asshole to her but it never happened.

When she came out of the bathroom Marcia Zillich was once again the attractive girl with the blue Bermuda’s, blue knee socks, white cut off tennis shoes and Gray B.F. Goodrich sweatshirt with yellow letters. Unlike the wild-eyed, writhing, naked woman of last night she looked quite demure. “I’m starved,” she said.

I was surprised that she suggested the Erie Café, a greasy spoon of the highest magnitude. It was a place that the railroaders referred to as the “Beanery.” Just around the corner from the Corner Bar where we met the Erie was open 24/7. It had great breakfasts though. “The coffee’s always strong here,” she said, often burnt but its good today. I need the jolt after...” She rolled her eyes and let it hang. She was in the midst of her three egg breakfast with bacon, sausage, hash browns and toast, mopping up some of the egg yolk with a piece of her toast. “What?” she asked. “You’ve been staring at me since we sat down.” I had purposely been trying not to stare, looking as much out of the corners of my eyes as I could, or so I thought.

Seeing my blush of embarrassment at being caught and the look of guilt in my eyes she picked up her napkin, primly dabbed at the corners of her mouth, put her napkin down, reached over and patted and caressed the top of my hand and said, “I guess most guys fantasize and talk about what went on last night but never really expect it to happen.” A look of sadness washed her face. “Maybe that’s my role Toby, to bring the improbable to the lives of lustful men. God knows there are enough out there with their tongues hanging out and their mouths watering.” She shrugged and gave me the sweetest smile then asked, “Did you participate last night?”

Her question was an immediate assault on my male ego. True, I was last in line and didn’t get in on the action ‘til the end of the night. But I had the second largest dick in the group and while it was sliding in the most incredibly slippery pussy in the world she was saying, “Yes Toby, yes, yes, YES,” I couldn’t believe that she didn’t even remember it was me.

She was carefully reading my face. “Of COURSE you were in on it; I practically forced Jerry to include you.” She rolled her eyes like she knew she hurt my feelings. “Please believe me when I say this Toby.” A look crept over her face that made it appear like she wouldn’t proud of what she was about to say. “I remember the first four guys but when I got into the heat of the ‘thing’ the only way I can explain it to you is that I was in a kind of trance-like frenzy.”

I remembered her eyes. They weren’t blank but appeared to be looking far, far away. At the same time she had an expression on her face that preachers talking about when they try to explain the Rapture. I couldn’t stop the question,. “What did you see Marcia that seemed to be so far away?”

“It’s hard to explain but things like last night Toby but they aren’t my proudest moments. The moment I saw you last night and Jerry told me that you were Chance’s brother I felt a little safer. I don’t remember what you did but I sincerely hope that you enjoyed yourself.” The word “enjoyed” caused a downward draw on the smile Marcia was trying to flash. She hadn’t answered my question.

Feeling my own remorse for doing what I considered shameful yet had enjoyed myself when I did; I wondered if a person like me could really respect women at all. I always thought I cared TOO much about women to see one defiled in such a way. Never being a very good liar I guess my face told it all.

Marcia’s face contorted into “I’ve done it now” and she said, “I’d like to think that your brother Chance wouldn’t have been there. I know guys though Toby, Chance would probably have been standing with the rest of you guys stroking your cocks. Just the same I would have felt safer having him there.” She shook her head in a way that showed respect. “You dad must have done a fine job teaching you guys to respect ladies.” She snorted, jerked her head and repeated, “Ladies.” She didn’t have to ad like I should be talking. “And with me doing what I was doing, why wouldn’t you have done what is natural for a male to do.”

She looked at me as if she hoped for compassion, even had tears welling in her lower lids. But she didn’t cry or shed a tear. “You might not believe me Tobe (she had heard both Chance and Jerry refer to me that way) but any other guy that would have been asked to take me home would most likely have treated me like a leper. You were so incredibly kind in the way you looked after me this morning, even standing guard in the bathroom! If any of them had taken me to breakfast the way you have they would be asking stupid questions and making vulgar comments. And W\why wouldn’t they? After all...”

I put my hand over Marcia’s and patted it. “See? Even when I cut myself down you’re here trying to protect me.” This time a tear—just one—trickled down her cheek. She dried it with a napkin and chuckled. “Don’t mind me Tobe, whenever I go through one of these things I get a little vulnerable and start beating myself up.”

I had LOTS of questions but I sensed that Marcia just wanted to get away from Kent, to get home and begin normalizing her life. Besides it wasn’t any of my business.

“I could snuggle with Toby. You have so much you want to ask me but you won’t, you’re nothing but class. You seem to know an awful lot about women.” With that she sneered and said, “Those guys last night? You are NOTHING like them. You’ve been with women, I mean sexually. I know it. Most of those guys have never been laid. You know things Toby. You know a lot more than your brother did, bless him.” She shook her head agreeing with herself. “I can tell.”

I paid the check and we left the Erie Café. It was a long, quiet, twelve mile ride that took us about a half an hour; we both seemed reflective in the silence. As I pulled into her driveway she said, “I need to see you again Toby. This last half hour with you tells me that I can share things with you and be safe.” She looked at my questioning face. “ ... things that only my father and Jerry know, at least in the United States. You’ve been more than I could have hoped for when I first met you Toby. And maybe because of you this week won’t be the disaster that usually happens after one of these things ... how about next Saturday Toby?”

It sounded like she was asking for a date. “I work at a gas station in Burling Heights ‘til six, do you want be to come to Cuyahoga Springs?”

“The Sohio Station on route 76?”


“I’ll come pick you up at work. Take some clothes to change into. We’ll go someplace where you can get cleaned up. Then I’ll take you to dinner and we can talk. Ok?”

I asked if Jerry was coming. She told me that she would tell Jerry and he would be cool with it. When I questioned her she said. “After what you saw last night Toby you must know that Jerry and I have a different kind of relationship.” She smiled like she was a co-ed that I was dropping off at her home for the weekend. “You have a presence Toby, an honesty that I have to dig into. I have a story that I have to tell that I hope you can understand. I need to talk about it with someone besides Daddy and Jerry. There’s just gotta be a way for me to figure out why I have to do these things.”

As I began pulling out of the drive way, she trotted alongside the car and said through the open window. “Just be waiting at that gas station at six o’clock on Saturday Toby. Okay?”

For the rest of this story, you need to Log In or Register