Bliss Week: Yield and Surrender (Interview With Loose Women Series)

  Bliss Week: Yield and Surrender

  By Safira

  Text copyright © 2012

  All Rights Reserved

  Chapel Hill, NC

  Subject #283

  Transcript.

  Length of Recording 1:32:42

  Interviewer: Let’s start with your age, sex, and place of birth.

  Subject: 21, female, and, um, I don’t want to say my place of birth. You said this was anonymous.

  I: Answer only what you wish. Your age at the time of the encounter?

  S: 19.

  I: What were the circumstances?

  S: It was the spring semester of my freshman year and I was pledging for a sorority. I don’t really want to say which one. It’s about an 8-week process and the final week is called Bliss Week. And—

  I: Bliss Week? Why is it called that?

  S: It used to be called Hell Week. And that became too well-known and it became associated with hazing, which is against university rules. So they changed it to its opposite, Bliss Week, to be cute.

  I: Okay. Go on.

  S: Anyway, during Bliss Week you're split up into groups of 4 pledges and each group gets assigned a senior sister.

  I: She has to be a senior?

  S: Yes, a senior member of the sorority. The group has to pick one girl to be 'The Bearer.'

  I: How does the group pick her?

  S: They just have to come to a mutual agreement. If they can't agree then they're all dismissed.

  I: Meaning they don't make the sorority?

  S: Yes.

  I: And what does 'The Bearer' do?

  S: I was getting to that. The senior sister assigned to the group assigns her a task, and she has to complete it, or else the entire group is dismissed. And if you tell anyone about the task, even later, your group is dismissed.

  I: What do you mean by later? If they found out now, two years later, that you're telling me about it, you and the other three girls in your group are out of the sorority?

  S: Yes. It's a way to maintain the secrecy.

  I: Ah, so nobody talks because she wouldn't just be getting only herself kicked out, she'd also be bringing trouble to her friends.

  S: Yeah. I was chosen as The Bearer. Well, I wasn’t really chosen, I volunteered. I could tell the girls in my group were a little hesitant about me being The Bearer; I guess I was a little shy and they were worried I might not do task. But I insisted.

  I: Why did you volunteer?

  S: I thought the sorority would be impressed that I showed initiative. Also, I was sort of a nerd and was always volunteering in class and that just carried on to the sorority.

  I: So what was your task?

  S: The senior sister assigned to our group told me to meet her at the sorority house the next Friday night wearing the shortest pair of shorts I own. So I wore my little white shorts and threw on an old sweater and went to meet her.

  I: So the rest of your group doesn't have to do anything anymore?

  S: No, only me. I'm 'The Bearer.'

  I: Okay. Go on.

  S: So I go to the sorority house and she takes me to her room. She throws a t-shirt at me and tells me to wear it. It's light blue and I unfurl it and see 'SLUT' written on it in large, bold letters. So I put it on and—

  I: Did you hesitate?

  S: No, I was mentally preparing for some crazy task and honestly I was a little relieved. I was guessing she just wanted me to go out and walk around wearing that shirt for a bit. It could have been worse.

  I: I see. Go on.

  S: So I took off my sweater and bra and put on the t-shirt. She—

  I: Was it a good fit?

  S: You mean the shirt or the labeling of me as a slut?

  I: Both.

  S: The shirt was sort of tight. And no, I wasn't a slut; I had a single boyfriend almost all through that freshman year.

  I: You were still with him at the time of this story?

  S: Yes.

  I: Go on.

  S: So yeah, she tells me to go out and hang out at the bars and clubs that are on this main street where all the nightlife of the campus happens. Again I was relieved that it wasn’t as crazy a task as it could have been. But then as I’m heading out the door she says, if anyone asks you to prove it, you prove it.

  I: Prove it?

  S: Yes. She said if anyone says the exact words 'prove it' I have to prove it.

  I: Prove what?

  S: That’s what I asked her. She said prove you're not a liar and what it says on your shirt is true.

  I: So prove you're a slut?

  S: Yes.

  I: How?

  S: I asked her that too. She just looked into my eyes for a long time. And then she said slowly, enunciating each word—I remember her exact words—she said, "Take whoever says that to you somewhere private and prove to him you are a slut."

  I: Did you know this girl before this? Did she not like you?

  S: I knew her a little. We didn't really know the seniors too well. I think she just didn't like me because I was prettier than her. That's how it always is.

  I: Did she say how long you have to be out?

  S: Yes, she said until the bars close., which is 2:30.

  I: Okay. So you went out wearing the shirt?

  S: First I asked her if I could do it somewhere else. There would be too many people there that knew me.

  I: Did she let you?

  S: She told me to get on my knees and ask.

  I: And did you?

  S: Yes, I got on my knees and said “Please I can do this task somewhere else?” She conceded, but she said only if take the bus. She told me to go to Durham, the next college town over, about 20 minutes away.

  I: Okay.

  S: So I get on the bus in my little shorts and the slut shirt. Thankfully it's not that full. There are a few college girls and they snicker and whisper and giggle. A few older guys ogle me. But that's it and I got off at the main street where the clubs and bars are. It's Friday night so it's pretty crowded there.

  I: So you don't usually frequent this part of the state?

  S: No, I usually stayed near my own campus.

  I: I see. Go on.

  S: So I walk down this street for a bit. And I get the responses you'd expect. Drunk guys yelling things as I pass by, girls giving me various looks. Most just stare for a bit and forget about me after I pass.

  I: What kind of things did people yell?

  S: The guys would yell things like "Slut!" or "Come here baby!" Some girl said, "Wow, classy," as I walked past her group.

  I: Were you self-conscious?

  S: Yeah, of course I was self-conscious. And it was compounded because I was alone. You usually go to places like this in a group. That's what set me apart more. It's not like the other girls there were dressed like nuns.

  I: I see. And then?

  S: I go into a bar, a few guys offer to buy me drinks, they chat me up, nothing disrespectful. I'm thinking I'm gonna get through this assignment easily. Before you know it an hour had passed and I left the bar and went into a club on the next block.

  I: Did the guys who chatted you up comment on your shirt?

  S: Most didn't actually. I can tell they noticed it, it's hard to miss, but they worked hard to maintain eye contact and ignore it. A couple guys asked and I just joked that all my other shirts were in the laundry.

  I: Why'd you leave if it was going well?

  S: The ratio of guys to girls was getting too high. You get too much attention when that happens.

  I: Okay, so you went into the club...

 
S: I head to the lounge area and this guy starts talking to me. He's really well dressed with this sort of newsboy hat and we're chatting for a while and I'm thinking he's cute.

  I: Were you hoping he'd say the magic words?

  S: I think I was mostly hoping no one would say those magic words so my assignment would go smoothly. But if someone were to say it, I wouldn't have minded it being him.

  I: Okay, go on.

  S: So we're chatting and flirting for a while, until these two guys spot me from the distance and come over. They're bigger than the guy I was talking to and rudely crowd him out. One of them says, "Nice shirt, slut." The cute newsboy hat guy tries to say something but one of them grabs his hat and throws it into the crowd. He looked at them and then back at me and meekly walked away.

  I: He gave up that easily?

  S: Yes, it completely turned me off him how he was cowed so easily. He just left me alone with these guys.

  I: Okay, go on.

  S: The one doing the talking so far told the other one to leave. "Leave me alone with the slut for a second," were the bastard's exact words. I told myself to leave but my feet didn't move. The place was crowded now and we were pushed together. Everything he said to me he ended with "slut."

  I: Like what?

  S: "Having a good night, slut?" "Getting enough attention with that shirt, slut?" I surprised myself that I didn’t walk away. It was all so new to me. Usually when guys approached me they were nervous and complimentary. I kept talking to him, but I wasn’t really friendly.

  I: How long did this last?

  S: Just a few minutes. Then he said, “You seem like the type of slut that bites her lips when she’s fucked.” And that’s when I walked away and he yelled the magic word after me.

  I: What did he say?

  S: He said, “Come on, it says right on your chest you're a slut, so prove it."

  I: So if he had phrased that differently, without using the words "prove it," you would have kept walking?

  S: Yes.

  I: So you went back to him...

  S: Yes, and I was much more friendly this time. I caressed his face and asked how he would like me to prove it. He told me to say something dirty to him. I drew a blank and hesitated. He laughed and said, "Actions speak louder than words. Come back to my place and prove it." We looked into each other's eyes for a long time; he was trying to call my bluff. I finally said, "Ok, let's go," and he immediately led me by the hand out the club.

  I: So just like that you had decided to sleep with him?

  S: Well no, I hadn't explicitly decided that yet. It had just happened so fast and suddenly here I was outside, following him. We were walking in silence and suddenly he stopped and pinned me against the wall and kissed me hard. When it ended he said, "You know I'm gonna fuck you, right? You can go back if you want." He walked ahead of me without looking back and I stood there deciding whether to keep following him or not.

  I: What was going through your mind?

  S: Lots of calculations were going through my mind. I was thinking that no way would I sleep with a guy I had just met, it was just not something I imagined I would ever do. I was thinking about my boyfriend. I was thinking that this guy didn't deserve to kiss me like that after being so rude to me. But I was also thinking that I had never failed to complete an assignment in my life. I was thinking that the three other girls wouldn't make the sorority after all that work because of me. I was also thinking that this seemed a little adventurous and exciting and even sexy. He was almost half a block ahead of me now and I was still standing there against the wall. And that's when I consciously decided it.

  I: To have sex with him?

  S: Yes. I walked quickly in my heels and caught up with him, grabbed his arm, and walked alongside him.

  I: Were you talking as you walked.

  S: No, we just walked. It wasn't that far to his place. When we reached it he opened the door and I walked in after him. He closed the door behind him and grabbed me from behind. He took a fistful of my hair from the base and pulled until I was looking up at the ceiling. His other hand was on my breasts over the t-shirt. He gave me some dirty talk and started—-

  I: Do you remember what he said?

  S: I remember exactly what he said.

  [Silence]

  I: You're not going to tell me?

  S: Um, could you like look down at your papers or something when I tell you? Don't look at me.

  I: Absolutely.

  S: He said, "Slut, you have a pretty face. That face is too pretty to face fuck. But since you're a slut I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna fuck your pretty little mouth, slut."

  I: Jesus. Anything else?

  S: He said he was gonna fuck me with the taste of his cum in my mouth.

  I: Anything else?

  S: He asked if I knew his name. When I said no he said, "That's right, you're about to fuck a guy who's name you don't know."

  I: Anything else?

  S: He asked if I had a boyfriend. I said yes.

  I: What did he say to that?

  S: He asked if my boyfriend knew his girl was a slut. I shook my head. He said, "I bet he makes love to you. I'm going to fuck you like a little whore."

  I: Was this turning you on? What was your mind-set?

  S: I had already decided I was going through with it, so in a way it had already happened. Does that make sense? I don't think it does. Sorry. Anyway, yes, it turned me on. At the time it was unexpected how much it turned me on. It caught me by surprise, my arousal, I mean. But at the same time, I really hated that it was turning me on.

  I: What happened next?

  S: He let go of me and told me to go to the door and either leave or lock it and come back.

  I: And you went and locked the door?

  S: Yes.

  I: Did you think about leaving instead?

  S: Yes, I stood at the door for a second. But I locked it and went back to him. When I was back facing him again, we looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds. And then he told me to kiss him. And I did.

  I: How was it?

  S: I gave him a nice, tender kiss. It was strange kissing him like that after he'd called me a slut like 75 times in the last ten minutes. It upset a little how unfair it, how he didn’t deserve it.

  I: And then what happened?

  S: He told me to take off my top. So I took off the "Slut" shirt and stood there in just my little white shorts. He looked at me for a little and said, "You're way too hot to be doing this."

  I: I have to say I agree with him on that.

  S: Um, thanks, I guess.

  I: I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to comment. That was unprofessional. Go on.

  S: He grabbed my face and kissed me hard. He was pushing me back as he kissed me, so I ended up with my back against the wall. And then he went for my breasts, grabbed them, kissed them, sucked on them.

  I: How did that feel?

  S: That always feels good. I remember I let out a moan and then I ran my hands through his hair when he was down at my breasts. Which was again weird, being affectionate towards him.

  I: What happened then?

  S: He told me to get on my knees and put my hands behind my back.

  I; And you did?

  S: I hesitated for a second and he said, "Slut, get on your knees like a good little whore or leave." And I got on my knees and put my hands behind my back.

  I: And then?

  [Silence}

  I: Do you want me to not look at you again?

  S: Yes, please.

  I: No problem.

  S: He took off his shirt, unzipped his jeans, and took out his cock. I was—

  I: What was it like?

  S: His cock?

  I: Yes.

  S: Bigger that I expected. His body wasn't anything special. He was actually a little overweight. But his cock was a good size.

  I: Bigger than your boyfriend's at the time?

  S: Yes. My boyfriend had a better body than him. But as far as cock s
ize, yea this guy's was both longer and thicker.

  I: Okay, go on.

  S: I was ready to give him a blowjob, but instead he started rubbing his cock over and around my face. He said something like, "I bet your boyfriend kisses your pretty little face all the time. If he could see you know." And then he pushed against my lips with his cock and told me to kiss it. So I gave it a peck. Then he said, "Slut, I meant kiss every square inch of my cock." It was hard to do it with my hands behind my back. I kissed up and down his shaft, around the head. Kissing the underside was tricky; I had to use my face to lift it up first and get in position and then give the kisses.

  I; How did that feel?

  S: Again I didn't like how much this being so submissive and tender to him while he was being mean turned me on. I had no experience with it. And feeling his cock against my lips gave me an intense urge to put it in my mouth. When I got to the head again I opened and took him in. I slowly moved in and put more of him in my mouth until a large part of it was in there. I just took a moment to savor him in my mouth.

  I: And then you started with the blowjob?

  S: Yes. A nice soft blowjob. But then I gave a little moan and he started talking and—-

  I: What did he say?

  S: More of the same type of things he'd been saying. He said, "I bet your parents are so proud of you. If they could see you now on your knees in front of me." He called me a whore and a slut again a few times. He worked himself up saying this stuff and became inpatient with my blowjob I guess. He grabbed my head with both hands and held it still and pumped his cock in and out of my mouth. Face-fucking, as he called it. Then he alternated by keeping his cock in one place and forcing my head back and forth.

  I: Had you ever done that before?

  S: No. Not even close. A few times he put his cock all the way in until my nose was touching his abdomen and held it there.

  I: Were your hands still behind your back during all this?

  S: Yes. This lasted a few minutes. And then he pulled out of my mouth, grabbed me by the arm and led me to the bed. He laid me on my back with my head hanging backward off the edge and he stood over me and put his cock in my mouth.

  I: That's a very submissive and vulnerable position to be in. Did you ever think this was going too far?

  S: After it was all over I felt guilty and ashamed that I let a guy do that to me. But at the time I was very aroused, aroused against my own will.