Chapter 1: College Introduction

I was an adventurous girl growing up in a small town in the Rocky Mountains. My name is Darcy Hurst, and I was 19 when I left North Park for college. I had blue-green eyes that sparkled like mountain lakes and long brown hair that changed with the seasons. I was slim and not too tall, not too short. I liked to take risks and have fun, even if it made my parents nervous.

I went to Summerset High School, where I was a nerd. But I wanted to experience something new and exciting in college. That’s why I chose Barnett College in Shalako, New Mexico. It was a different world, with a different culture and climate. I was ready for the challenge.

One of the things that drew me to Barnett was the Delta Tau Chi sorority. I met Jennifer Campbell, a junior and a leader in the sorority, in the spring before I started college. We hit it off over the phone, and she invited me to join Delta Tau Chi. She told me about their secret nude-only pool and the “smother chairs” that they had there.

She enthusiastically described the chairs as the best thing ever, having encountered them a few years before she started as a freshman. Despite her excitement, she didn’t provide detailed explanations but conveyed a sense of intrigue and temptation surrounding these mysterious chairs. I was eager to experience them myself once I arrived to see if they were what she was building them up to. I couldn’t wait to try them, and my curiosity led me to conduct some research.

Upon looking into these chairs, I discovered that the university I would be attending wasn’t the first to install them. These unique chairs were present in private pool areas associated with fraternities on various campuses. Intrigued by the concept, I delved deeper into understanding the practice and its potential legal implications.

As I started exploring the legal aspects of securing individuals inside these chairs, I encountered information that raised concerns about potential dangers. Recognizing the complexity of the subject and not wanting to delve into legal intricacies at that moment, I decided to close the browser. The allure of the chairs was tempering while being aware of the realization that there might be legal and ethical considerations surrounding their use in private pool areas associated with fraternities.

When I arrived on campus for the first time a week before the fall semester started on Sunday, anticipation for the classes would be on the following Monday. Jennifer was so vividly excited when I thought about those chairs. She said they were unlike anything else, and they made the pool area a paradise. They would make me feel amazing, and that I had to experience them for myself. I was curious and eager to discover their secrets.

I drove for five hours from my home to get to Barnett. It was a long and scenic drive through the mountains, the city, and the desert. My parents gave me a car as a graduation gift, and I was grateful. It was reliable and comfortable, and it made me feel more independent. It also made me feel safer, especially in the winter, when the roads could get icy and snowy heading home and back. I knew I could always drive back home if I needed to or visit my friends and family in Denver.

When I got to campus, I moved into a junior room that I shared with two other girls new to the sorority like me. They came from different parts of the country, and we had a lot to learn about each other. We were all excited and curious about Delta Tau Chi, especially the pool and the smother chairs they used during the tour.

Tonya spent nearly two hours sitting up and lying down on the female one in the morning before I arrived. Sara only said she was there during her tour and only once since neither devolved any information to me. I wondered what they were not telling me about my tour with all of our sponsors during my tour in less than an hour. I was excited about learning about the mysterious and thrilling world of Delta Tau Chi.

As I delved deeper into the intricacies of Delta Tau Chi, a particular allure drew me to the pool area of these female fraternities in the paperwork of one of my roommates. I learned that human poolside lounge chairs, while conventional, add a unique touch to the sorority’s poolside ambiance.

The unfolding dynamics of college life gradually acquainted me with the nuanced aspects of female fraternities. The chairs had replaced the old standard poolside seating through a hazing rush, a peculiar initiation ritual within these sororities, and found endless guys to go inside them. What caught my attention was looking at the other two after learning another person was inside those chairs. Plus, it was the origin of this change, rooted in a hazing rush, with the women involved choosing to maintain silence on issues like “sexism,” “patriarchy,” or “male privilege.”

Beyond the hazing rush, the enigmatic chairs persisted – enclosed wooden boxes with face openings, primarily catering to individuals willing to confine themselves. Adding gravity to this seemingly innocuous poolside choice was the requirement for participants to sign legal documents acknowledging potential dangers, including suffocation and death. The poolside area, once a symbol of leisure, now held a mysterious and somewhat ominous significance within the captivating tapestry of Delta Tau Chi.

My sense of amazement soared as Jennifer guided me through the amenities available to members of the female fraternity. The revelation came when we arrived at the pool dressing room, necessitated by the nature of the nude female pool area. Astonishingly, numerous custom coffin lounge chairs were visible, each featuring someone’s face protruding beneath the intimate space of a naked bather.

Moving through the pool area, Jennifer directed me to two vacant chairs recently vacated by bathers. My head spun at the sight of two faces sticking out of openings high enough to clear the cushion cut out of the surface where the bather would sit. The faces belonged to a female and a guy, creating a bizarre spectacle.

In this strange scene, Jennifer gestured towards the first chair we passed, emphasizing its distinctiveness identified as a “Very Important Person” (VIP) chair for senior members. To my surprise, she explained every one of these chairs, including the VIP, harbored an insignificant individual.

Inside are someone of no value to those who choose to sit on their faces with the full force of the user without any care. Each chair has time locks that will only open at designated times and have no bearing on the safety of what is inside. Those chairs carried a peculiar weight beyond the physical.

The VIP chair, in particular, held a unique fate. It was routinely confined and locked overnight by the sorority in charge, serving the wishes of senior sorority members during large parties. The question lingered: Is what she calls insignificant the same she sees in there now? I couldn’t imagine someone being in there until the crack of the morning for the pleasure of senior sorority members during large parties.

Disconcerting emotion enveloped the scene, shrouding those concealed within. The revelation of lives deemed insignificant and the intentional confinement of individuals for amusement cast a disturbing atmosphere fueled by someone else’s pleasure.

The term “insignificant individual” felt inadequate to capture the essence of the face within the wooden coffin lounge chair. This contrast unfolded against the backdrop of VIP chairs – male faces protruding from wooden openings, creating a surreal panorama of the lady in the chairs. This experience led to profound contemplation on the delicate balance between tradition, initiation, and the potential perils associated with unorthodox communal practices, reshaping my perspective.

The atmosphere abruptly shifted as Jennifer, with decisive actions, took a seat on chair three, exerting all her weight on the female face within its opening down so hard I was afraid she was going to kill her. At that moment, she casually explained the concept of “smother chairs,” highlighting the user’s ability to restrict the breathing of the thing she considered insignificant beneath.

My immediate reaction was a frantic concern for her safety. Distressed, I urgently exclaimed, “You’re going to suffocate her!” Unperturbed by my distress, Jennifer maintained her position on the chair and spoke casually. She revealed that those willingly subject themselves to a time lock, only opening after the pool closes for lunch on weekends and at night during the week – a conscious choice to surrender their lives for our amusement and pleasure, rendering them insignificant.

She disclosed that in the current year, four had lost their lives, with nine and nearly twelve deaths recorded the previous year, predominantly due to mostly suffocation – a fate I was currently witnessing as she sat on that poor lady’s face without moving. Her demeanor remained indifferent as she briefly sat up and then forcefully resumed her seat, intensifying the gravity of this unsettling revelation.

At that moment, a wave of terror swept over me, confronted with the harsh reality of the potential dangers associated with these unorthodox communal practices. The stark contrast between the serene poolside setting and the recounting of recent deaths leaves me with a profound sense of unease, questioning the boundaries between tradition, initiation, and the alarming risks involved.

My attention was so much on the face Jenifer was sitting on that I ended up sitting smack down on the face in chair four. Realizing my actions and discomfort washed over me with a profound empathy for him. When the tip of his nose deep inside my labia followed a tongue pushed inside the anus, I nearly lost it.

Jennifer, seemingly unfazed, smiled and casually remarked, “Enjoy the utmost power, the extreme pain causing and suffering you have control over when they can breathe or not. She said, “Since my first time three years ago. I have not suffocated anyone yet, no repercussions if I did. There is no shortage willing to place faces in the crotch of female bathers.”

Her words hung in the air, emphasizing the paradox between the discomfort and the apparent willingness of individuals to partake in these unconventional practices. The disconcerting blend of physical sensations, the eerie atmosphere, and Jennifer’s indifferent attitude left me grappling with a complex mix of emotions, questioning the boundaries of consent, pleasure, and the unsettling norms within this peculiar communal setting.

A moment of relief washed over me as Jennifer briefly lifted off the female face, allowing her to nip at the lips before planting herself back down. However, my discomfort intensified as I observed the aftermath. After she got off her face, I was dismayed that she carelessly handled the situation.

I was still sitting on his face while tilting some to allow him to breathe every few seconds. I admit, peculiarly feeling warm air as he exhaled down there. Surveying the surroundings, to my surprise, those in the chairs seemed unconcerned about the faces they were on. The atmosphere and apparent indifference left me disoriented, questioning the boundaries of acceptance and normalcy within this peculiar community.

Still planted firmly to block the airway of the person I was sitting on, I felt more concerned about who Jennifer sat on and was all covered with piss. I looked at her and said, “Not believe you dropped your blatter,” I pulled myself nearly off the face to take several breaths before pushing down again so hard I felt it. In disgust, it happened that sent me into another orbit, that tongue thrusting in and out of the back side like it was no tomorrow.