Mary Anne Thompson was a bit confused as to how she got here. She had just smiled at this frat boy’s camera as he had taken a picture of her naked bottom with her face in it.

“That’ll be perfect collateral,” Marcus said as he brought the camera down from his face and let it hang from his chest with a strap. He had stunning blue eyes that seemed to pierce through everything his gaze looked upon.

For a second, Mary Anne completely forgot she was angry, and in that second, the frat boys were quick to move her forward toward more of the debauchery of the evening while she struggled to pull her pants up over the curve of her round ass.

As they made it to a group of people, all gathered, excited, and barely dressed, they heard a loud voice.

“Welcome, one and all.” A hush fell over the crowd. “I am your frat president, your friend, and though many may know me by my earthly name of Lee, tonight I have ascended above the limited scope of mortality.” The crowd parted to reveal the person speaking. Although Mary Anne was convinced that what he said was complete nonsense, she couldn’t deny that there seemed to be a sense of divine confidence emanating from this boy. He was at least six feet tall, but not weak, with honey-brown eyes and feathered blonde hair. He stood on top of a table, holding a mic with the smirk of someone who didn’t have a care in the world.

“Tonight my name is not Lee as it has been for the last twenty-one years. Instead, tonight my name is Dionysus, God immortal.” He jumped from his table to another and was now inches away from Mary Anne. He looked her straight in the eyes before his gaze dropped to her chest, and she suddenly felt like squeezing her elbows together, but she was able to resist. Honestly, she was too focused on being impressed that these meatheads even knew who Dionysus was.

The president continued, “And as Dionysus, the God of parties, it is your privilege to be able to perform for me to see if you may be the next one to join us on Mount Olympus and claim whatever it is that your heart desires. Money…” He took hundred-dollar bills out of his pocket and ripped them in half. “Fame!” He stopped to take a selfie and then he fell backward onto the table and looked at Mary Anne again. “Women.” He quickly stood back up. “Anything and everything can be yours, my friends. Just win our challenges, and you may ascend!”

The crowd cheered and roared as he lifted his hands high into the air. Even Mary Anne found herself clapping.

“Now! Demi-Gods! Please present the Pledges who have come here today in the hopes of becoming members of our pantheon!”

Ten different Frat members came forward, each one built and tall, unlike her son. She still strongly believe that this fraternity should be disbanded, but she was starting to understand why they treated Hayden the way that they did. Each of those trap members presented a freshman that looked similar to them. Then, a Latino Frat boy who she had heard called Carlos, stepped forward, laughing and he said, “Hello to the pantheon, presenting the ultimate bitch boy pledge, Gayden Thompson.” it was her son, he was wearing skinny jeans, glasses and a bright orange polo. She couldn’t deny that he looked lame next to everyone else, but he was still her son, even though he was kind of pathetic.

He looked over at her, standing loyally in front of Marcus, and he looked shocked, scared, and he started talking, “Mom? What are you doing here? You need to go!”

“Silence,” said Dionysus, who had found his way to a throne that other Frat members had brought him, “introduce yourself, Freshman.”

“My name is… umm Hayden Thompson.” His voice was slightly nasally and high pitched. “I want to be a Frat Pledge because I’ve always wanted the chance to be cool and you guys are cool, so it seemed like a good opportunity.”

They all laughed at him. “Hayden Thompson,” said the President, “I wish you the best of luck.” He then looked to Marcus who stepped forward. “Marcus, you’re always full of surprises, what do you have with you today?”

“I have someone very special. I know we normally don’t accept girls as Frat members, but this one was very insistent that she join. Isn’t that right?” Everything felt very rehearsed as if this wasn’t the first time they had been in these positions.

Mary Anne stepped forward to defend herself, “That’s not true. I’m only—”

“Silence.” She stopped speaking and Dionysus continued, “ I have not asked you to speak yet, and if you do it again out of turn, you will be punished. Do you understand me?”

She rolled her eyes. “This is ridiculous, I am a Principal and I will not be told what to do by a bunch of brats.”

“So you’re disqualifying yourself?”

“Of course not. I need to win this to prove that you guys aren’t as smart as you guys think you are- and of course to save my son.”

“Then answer me, Mrs. Thompson. Do you understand that you should speak when spoken too? And careful, you’re talking to a God.”

She hesitated, but swallowed her pride in the interest of keeping things moving. “Fine. Yes, I understand.” He smiled.

“Good. Now would you like to introduce yourself and why you want to be a Frat pledge?” He sat back in his chair and put a leg up to his thigh.

“My name is Mary Anne Thompson, I’m a Principal and mom to Hayden Thompson.” Behind her, she heard the FLASH of a camera. “And I want to be a Frat Pledge because I think y’all aren’t as cool as you think you are and I think I’m better than everyone else here.” She adjusted her expensive jacket to emphasize her point. “Oh, and also to save my son.” The son in question had his hands buried in his hands, dying of embarrassment.

“Since all freshmen are little cocksuckers,” Dionysus proclaimed, his voice booming through the humid air of the living room, “it’s only fitting that we test your fundamental skills. We don’t want virgins in this fraternity; we want specialists. We want people who know how to handle a delicate situation with grace and rhythm.” Two brothers stepped forward, placing a long folding table in front of the pledges. On it sat ten large, firm bananas and ten individual foil packets.

Mary Anne looked at the fruit and then at the lubricated latex, her face heating up. “You cannot be serious,” she hissed, her professional facade flickering. “I am not putting a condom on a piece of fruit with my mouth. It’s unhygienic, it’s infantile, and it is beneath the dignity of anyone in this room.” She crossed her arms, the expensive fabric of her blazer tightening across her chest, but Dionysus only chuckled, leaning forward on his throne.

“I figured you’d be the first to fold, Principal,” he said, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. “I guess that ‘competitive drive’ Marcus mentioned was just talk. It’s a shame, really. If a woman of your… experience… can’t even outshine a bunch of clumsy teenagers, then maybe Hayden really does belong in the ‘bitch-boy’ category. I mean, look at him.” Mary Anne glanced at Hayden; he was trembling, fumbling with the foil packet with shaking hands, looking utterly defeated before the timer had even started. The sight of his weakness sparked a familiar, sharp fire in her gut. She wasn’t just a principal; she was a winner. She had never lost a debate, a board meeting, or a promotion in her life.

“Fine,” she snapped, stepping up to the table and pinning her hair back with a decisive flick of her wrist. “If this is the standard of excellence for your ‘pantheon,’ then I’ll show you how a professional handles it.” She ignored Hayden’s whispered plea of “Mom, please don’t,” and focused entirely on the banana in front of her. The crowd grew quiet, the heavy bass of the music transitioning into a slow, grinding rhythm that seemed to dictate the pace of her heart.

The whistle blew. Mary Anne didn’t hesitate. She used her teeth to tear the foil, the metallic taste of the wrapper hitting her tongue. She spat the square aside and caught the ring of latex between her lips. She leaned over the banana, her eyes narrowing in concentration. She treated the fruit like a high-stakes project, visualizing the mechanics. She began by coating the tip with a flick of her tongue, mirroring the slick glide of oral sex to ensure the latex wouldn’t snag.

She worked with a focused intensity that bordered on the carnal. She used her lips to stretch the ring, her tongue darting out to guide the reservoir tip over the crown of the fruit. As she began to roll the latex down, she used a swirling motion of her head, her mouth enveloping the fruit in a way that made the surrounding frat brothers hoot and holler. She wasn’t thinking about the absurdity anymore; she was thinking about the seal, the tension, and the speed. She used her suction to pull the condom tight, smoothing out the air bubbles with the roof of her mouth as she slid her lips down the length of the yellow peel.

To her left, she could hear Hayden gagging. She risked a glance and saw him struggling, the condom halfway on and twisted, his face a mask of mortification. A wave of second-hand embarrassment washed over her. How could he be so clumsy? she wondered. It was a simple task of manual, or rather, oral, dexterity. She felt a sudden, fierce pride in her own competence. She was doing it perfectly. She reached the base of the banana, flicking the final ring of the condom into place with a triumphant pop of her lips.

“Done!” she declared, standing up straight and wiping a stray drop of lubricant from the corner of her mouth. She looked down at her handiwork: the banana was perfectly encased, smooth and shining under the strobe lights.

Marcus stepped forward, checking his stopwatch with a look of genuine surprise. “Holy shit,” he muttered, looking up at Dionysus. “She just clocked in at twelve seconds. Principal, you’re a natural. You almost set the house record, you’re only two seconds behind Dionysus himself.”

Mary Anne felt a strange, warm flush that had nothing to do with the heat of the room. She looked up at the “God” on his throne, and for the first time, she saw a glimmer of something other than mockery in his honey-brown eyes. It was respect. She felt a sudden, traitorous surge of admiration for him. He was the standard, and she had almost met it. She stood a little taller, her chest heaving slightly, feeling more like “one of the boys” than she ever had in her life.

Hayden, meanwhile, had finally finished, but his banana was a mess, the condom was inside out and torn. Carlos laughed, shoving Hayden’s shoulder. “Looks like your mom’s the only one in the family with any talent, Gayden.” Mary Anne didn’t even defend him this time; she just looked at her son’s handiwork with a disappointed pout, her mind already racing toward the next challenge.

Dionysus stood up, his smirk widening as he hopped off the table. “That was an impressive display, Mary Anne. Truly. You’ve proven you have the mouth for the job. But let’s be honest,” he said, gesturing to the brothers who were now stepping forward, forming a semi-circle around the pledges. “That was just the warm-up round. We don’t use fruit to celebrate on Mount Olympus.”

The music shifted, the bass becoming a deep, guttural throb that vibrated in Mary Anne’s pelvic bone. One by one, the brothers in the front row reached for their waistbands.

“Since you’re all so good with the latex,” Dionysus purred, his eyes locked onto Mary Anne’s dazed, expectant face, “it’s time for the real challenge. Demi-gods, present the equipment.” The brothers pulled their members out, the sight of the varying shapes and sizes filling Mary Anne’s vision. “Pledges, grab your condoms. It’s time to see how you handle the real thing.”

Mary Anne’s last blowjob had been ten years prior, during her first wedding anniversary. To say she hated it would be an understatement. She had felt demeaned, choking repeatedly until, after barely two minutes, she stopped and swore never to do it again. It hadn’t been the primary reason for her divorce, but her ex-husband argued he only cheated because of their lackluster sex life—an excuse she found ridiculous in the face of the real problem: his total lack of self-control.

Since then, she’d gone on many dates and even had a one-night stand with an old friend at a college reunion, but she had never again debased herself with fellatio. Yet, here she was, with a boy who could easily be her son standing before her, his penis inches from her face. It was gross, it was disgusting, and for a reason she couldn’t quite pin down, it was slightly arousing.

Dionysus walked among his subjects, admiring the scene. “So far, our only loser is Gayden Thompson.”

“My name is Hayden,” the boy said quietly.

“Shut the fuck up, Gayden,” Carlos snapped.

The more Mary Anne looked around, the more it seemed every boy had his attention fixed on her. There was something she wasn’t quite grasping—FLASH—the camera went off again. She realized she’d have to figure that out later. First, she had to win this contest and prove she was better than the other pledges. Especially her son, who was looking more like a bitch by the minute.

“Are we ready?” Mary Anne lowered her mouth to the table, poised to grab a condom the moment she was cleared.

“Win this shit, Mary Anne,” Marcus said behind her. It sparked an odd sense of pride; in a way, she was representing them both.

“Go!”

ENDTAG: The next chapter + More are already out on Patreon.