Ramya: I refuse to lose my virginity

My pulse races. The room feels hotter, four sets of eyes on my nude body heavier, all waiting for me to choose who will pop my cherry.

I lock eyes with the tall Pacific Islander and grin, reflexively licking my lower lip. He's so exotic and handsome. Long dark hair is tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame his strong, chiseled face with high cheekbones and a powerful jaw. He has the rugged, commanding presence of a warrior with broad shoulders, heavily muscled arms and chest, and an intense gaze that makes my pussy clench. He is gorgeous, oozing raw sex appeal. This is the man I fantasize about when I masturbate.

I walk over to him. He towers above me. I reach down and clasp his massive, rock-hard cock in both hands, stroking it slowly. I rise to my tip-toes, and he leans down to take me with a strong kiss. Precome oozes out onto my thumb. I feel enveloped and deliciously feminine as he wraps his arms around me and cups my butt in his huge hands. This kiss is amazing. I exhale and open my mouth to deepen it, but Aquaman breaks it off and waits. His eyes drop to my pussy as he anticipates a victory, waiting for me to make it official.

“God… you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen,” I whisper, looking up into his eyes. “I wish I could fuck you."

Pity. It's a trap. A test of sorts. If I compromise my morals now, what does it say about me? My value will plummet. The men will pass me around, leave me ruined, and I will leave this island just as single as when I came.

"I think I want to fuck him right now more than I have ever wanted to fuck anyone. And I'd love for you to watch," I say loud enough for the room to hear.

I let the filthy words hang for a second, feeling him throb in my grip. Then I step back, lift my left hand, and hold up my bare ring finger. "No," I say firmly, meeting Raj's eyes with a soft grin. "I won't do it."

A few awkward seconds pass. This is not the answer they were expecting.

"You may not wish me to go to your marital bed as a virgin, but I do. I chose to keep myself pure not out of fear of not finding a man, nor out of fear of shame, but because I believe it is the right and moral thing to do."

"Wow. Are you sure?" Raj asks.

I keep my ring finger raised. "I will bleed in your bed, with you, or I will bleed for someone else in holy matrimony."

"Kiki, your assessment?" Raj asks.

Long silence as Kiki glares at me, then she says, "The candidate either has strong moral convictions or thinks having these convictions is the best way to win your hand in marriage. I don't know which is more true."

"Both," I mutter under my breath.

Kiki flashes another glare, then continues. "She is still a strong match. She has demonstrated excellent sexual response and performed well on the fellatio portion of the audition. Her history of oral and anal sex suggests strong sexuality. The non-sexual compatibility metrics are good. It's a risk, but I feel Raj Patel should still consider the candidate and offer alternative terms to finish her audition."

"I concur," Raj says, smiling at me. "Ms. Venkatesan, we offer a way out for our best candidates that wish to remain virgins to still be considered. It's not for the faint of heart, and I'd like to remind you that you can stop the audition and your candidacy at any time with our respect."

"Okay..."

Kiki steps forward, still only wearing her sheer black garter belt and stockings. Her nipple are stiff on her firm breasts, and a clear sheen of wetness glistens on her inner thighs.

“The candidate demonstrates admirable moral convictions and self-control by declining to lose her virginity here today. These are qualities we value. However, we still need to see her capacity for sexual performance and sacrifice. The candidate has missed the chance to show Raj Patel how seriously she wants to marry him by giving up her virginity, which would make her less desirable to other Indian grooms.

I scoff and shake my head.

“For candidates like you that perform well in other metrics, we therefore offer an alternate audition,” Kiki continues. “The candidate will demonstrate, through pain delivered in a controlled environment, that she is ready to submit to Raj Patel’s leadership. She will need significant mental toughness to complete it. The alternate audition is caning. Fifty lashes.”

"What?" I breathe. I barely know what a cane is. But this scares me.

“Raj Patel does not want a passive bride. He wants a woman with backbone, one who can speak her mind. You've shown us that by insisting on keeping your virginity. But you still must choose to yield to his leadership when the doors close. The cane is the test of that choice.”

Raj’s eyes meet mine. “Outwardly, you will stand beside me as my equal. In private, I lead. Letting go here shows me you can trust me with both.”

My mind races. I should walk away. I already said no to sex. I still have my virginity. I still have my dignity. But if I refuse the cane too, I’m done. No chance at Raj. No chance at the life I came here for. Is this what a wife is supposed to do? Let her future husband have her beaten just to prove she can submit? God, what am I becoming?

I’ve never done any spanking or rough play in the bedroom. But I embrace pain in the gym. And as I look at the calm, dominant Raj, a surprising tingle grows between my legs. My pussy clenches once, inexplicably, as if it likes the idea of him forcing me to submit.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I should be horrified. I am horrified. But there’s a dark, curious pull underneath the fear. A primal part of me I never knew existed is waking up at the thought of him making me take it. Of proving I can endure for him. And I'm being compared against other women. I know I can do better.

I glance at Kiki, who is to be my executioner. She now holds the instrument of my pain. The cane is long and slender, and looks deceptively light and non-threatening in Kiki’s hand. The surface is smooth and glossy, almost elegant, except for the faint darker marks near the striking end that suggest it’s been used before. It ends in a small, rounded leather handle that sits neatly in her palm.

She's already looking at my bum hungrily as she stands next to me. She angles the cane down, pressing the cold rod against my butt cheeks. She gives an evil grin and meets my eyes. "Bend over and put your hands on the dais," she commands.

I shudder. I can always stop, I remind myself. One word and it ends. I still have that power. I swallow hard. “Do I need some kind of safe word?”

Raj’s voice is calm. “You don’t need one. Just tell us to stop, and we will.”

"Your candidacy will immediately end if you fail to complete all fifty strokes. There are no more alternate audition paths," Kiki adds. She lightly taps my cheeks with the cane. “This will hurt a great deal. Only the strongest candidates can endure all fifty. You will demonstrate trust in us, that the marks will be severe but not permanent. Bend over and submit."

I nod once, fear and determination twisting inside me.

I turn to face the dais. I bend at the waist, my hands flat on the raised surface. My heavy breasts sag downward, the soft flesh stretching with visible stretch marks as they sway heavily beneath me.

Kiki steps behind me. “The candidate qualifies for the caning audition because her history of anal sex bolsters confidence of her sexuality. Before we begin, I will verify the candidate’s claim of anal habituation."

"Um... what?" I ask timidly.

"Arch your back more," Kiki demands. First she slides a finger into my slick cunt, coating it in lube from her earlier dilations. Then her warmed finger pushes against my anus.

"I'm not..." I start to object. I have a cleaning ritual for anal sex I haven't done. But they don't care. I tense for a split second, then my body responds as it's trained. I bear down, push out, and her slim finger slides inside. "Okay..." I mutter, accepting the humiliation. It doesn’t hurt at all. I've taken much bigger. And I realize now that was the test.

“No spasm. Immediate relaxation. The candidate has clearly had anal training. Her claim is accepted.” Kiki slides the finger out.

My face burns. My cheeks are spread in this position, showing my lubed pussy and ass to Raj. The clinical test of my anus is humiliating, and I'm scared to death of the caning. I look back and see Kiki staring hungrily at my exposed bum. She presses the cane against my vulnerable cheeks, then draws it back. I tense my muscles and look forward.

I hear the high pitched sound of the cane slicing through the air and brace for impact.