Entering the femdom club By The Anonymouse, fledgling@humanoid.net A young college student finds the perfect place to grow in his femdom ways. Please feel free to email any comments or requests to fledgling@humanoid.net. In my hand rested a cup. In that cup swirled a fluid that was composite of many other fluids. The fluid -- it could hardly be called a liquid -- was murky and discolored, had odd, unstable stratification, and contained bits of unidentified matter that floated aimlessly around the surface. It most definitely did not look like the sort of substance anyone would consider drinking. ...And I raised the cup to my lips. Why? Because I was being initiated into a new experience -- Femdom Club. I was attending university in a fairly little known school in the western united states, currently a sophomore, and majoring in Social Psychology. My parents wanted me, as the intelligent, educated son I was, to add a minor as well. I declined; instead of having an official minor, I was minoring in finding my place in life. Since I was young I knew that my personality and sexual tastes differed from those around me, even from the limited exposure I'd had to erotic encounters of any kind. I was attracted to girls, I was certain of that, but while most other guys sought out and acquired a female for themselves, I would wait for them to come to me, and they would generally become the dominant partner in our relationship, not that I could have termed the interaction with such words at the time. I slowly learned about my place in the sexual world, doing whatever I could do learn more about this difference of mine. Mainly through the open arms of the internet, I learned what Femdom was, and of alternative lifestyles. While some aspects of it did not appeal to me as a growing, generally self-assured young man, I knew that this concept of "Femdom" appealed to me far more than any other of the sexual behaviours I had encountered. As I grew, I learned more about the dominant and sub lifestyle, and came to understand that I enjoyed being a sub to women, and what parts of this interaction were the best for me. As my comprehension became more precise and encompassing, I began to yearn to express my desires for this lifestyle in more ways than just through thought and the extremely small number of fulfilled desires I could obtain from interactions with the girls I knew. When I was finishing high school and looking for colleges, I knew that I had to find a destination that would resolve my sexual frustration. Alongside my official search for an appropriate college, I did some subtle but frantic digging for any information I could find on colleges with a known and thriving femdom experience. In the end, I found the perfect balance at one college, a small university out west. I wasn't sure my parents would approve of a less well known school, but it was high quality and worked well for my major, so my parents had no objection, which I was internally hugely grateful for. The first action I took when arriving on campus, directly after arranging my dorms, was to seek out the Femdom Club that was peculiar to this school. This club was a special group of students, all perfectly normal, who happened to share a desire to participate in femdom in some fashion or other, and had obtained the resources and interest to turn it into a serious and thriving society. I was delighted to have found a place that would simultaneously educate me for my future career and nurture the crucial sexual bent in my psyche. Surprisingly, the group was not very difficult to find -- the school made no secret of it, it was a well known and well accepted club, much like any other. I couldn't be happier. That was where I was now: the main headquarters of Femdom Club, about to be initiated per my request. Entry was open to all university students, pending successful achievement of the application tests. The first of these test was simple -- follow a few basic commands from the four girls who headed the club and comprised the testing board. Make no hesitation, and follow their orders to the letter. This part was easy for me, and I eagerly worshipped their every word as they had me peel them a banana, lick the floor, and kiss their shoes. The second test was slightly harder, intended to test an applicant's commitment. I had my limbs contorted into an exceedingly uncomfortable position, at which the girls laughed, and then was shut in a small box barely larger than myself, with no other reason from the testing board other than, "because we said so." The idea was to ensure that I wouldn't back out when things got uncomfortable, that I wasn't just there for my own entertainment, that I knew that the most important element of femdom was making the girl happy. So I was locked in a box simply to provide some brief amusement to the four girls on the board. Now, I could ask to come out any time, and they would let me, but then I would fail -- and never be allowed re-admittance to Femdom Club. That was not an option for me. They kept me there twenty minutes or more, while they sat there and chatted, ignoring me, then removed the lid. I clambered out clumsily, in pain, to approving nods from my testers. And now the final test was upon me: prove my lack of squeamishness when facing the very brutal real elements of femdom, no matter how uncomfortable or disgusting it would be for me. So the four girls got a cup (or rather, had me get them one), and began to assemble in it a "drink" for me. First, they took turns spitting in it unreservedly, until it had a decent amount of liquid in it just from that (one girl was sick, and contributed some phlegm along with the spit. Yum). Then, one of the testers took the cup and peed in it, peed until her bladder was empty and she breathed a sigh of relief. The two liquids mixed, forming a horridly slothing combination. Next, two of the girls blew their noses straight into it, their snot splashing against the cup, and another scraped some dirt and dust from the bottom of her shoe and added that to the lovely mixture. After swirling the now nearly full cup around to ensure proper saturation, one of the girls from the testing board handed it to me. "Drink," she commanded, and that was all. I took the cup, and looked into it. It's hideous contents clung disgustingly to the walls, a sight nauseating enough to turn all but the most determined away. But I was determined, and now I discovered just how far into the Femdom mindset I had entered, for even as I stared at my future drink, my penis grew hard, and I found myself becoming attracted to the concept of drinking, at the order of a girl, this substance that had come from the excess and wastes of my superiors, these girls. Eagerly, I drank it up, as I had drunk nothing before. I didn't care that it hit my face, cloying to my skin, or that it smelled more terrible than anything I'd ever smelled before. I drank it in great gulps, and savored every bit. When I finished, I put the cup down and bowed to the board. "Thank you, Goddesses," I said in genuine humility, "for allowing me to partake of the your holy wastes." "Stand," responded the testers, the heads of the Femdom Club, my new Mistresses, "You are accepted. You are ours now." And happy with that I most definitely was. It was the start of a great new adventure.