Sorry Sorority

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— Prologue —

Despite the late hours of the evening, the Alpha Tau sorority house is still full of lively energy. Particularly upstairs on the third floor, where the upper management resides, the atmosphere is unusually giggly.

Lying in the middle of the bed is Aurora, the twenty-two-year-old president of the sorority. Tall, blonde, and gorgeous, she was voted into power with near-unanimous approval. Flanking her are Jade and Madison. Not as tall, not as blonde, but just as gorgeous, they are the left and right hands of Aurora.

The three of them are surrounded by stacks of manila folders, each stuffed with documents and pictures. The new semester starts soon and they have the difficult task of selecting a new set of pledges. Madison, the head of the recruitment council of Alpha Tau, spent all summer compiling the dossiers.

“Oh. My. God,” Jade giggles, opens the folder and tosses it in front of Aurora’s face.

“No way, what a slut,” Aurora laughs.

“Totally forgot about her,” Madison grins.

Aurora picks up the half dozen instant polaroid photos of a thicc redhead in a series of very compromising positions. According to the fact sheet, Sara is nineteen and got accepted into Greenville College on a merit scholarship for excellence in math. According to her application letter, she wants to get into Alpha Tau and would do anything to join. The word “anything” is underlined three times.

“Does she really think she can fuck her way into A-T?” Jade asks, scrutinizing the photo of Sara riding a big cock. “She does know we’re a sorority, right?”

“I think so,” Madison replies, pointing out the picture of Sara on all fours, eating pussy.

“I don’t know, I’m open to the idea. I mean we should at least let her try, right?” Aurora says and barks a laugh. “Might be the most interesting application so far.”

“So far,” Madison says with a smirk. “Wait until you see…” She rifles through the stack of as-of-yet unopened folders. “Aha! Here. Check this out.”

As soon as Aurora sees the headshot, her eyes go wide and her eyebrows shoot up.

“No way,” she mutters.

“You know her?” Jade asks.

“Damn right I know her,” Aurora growls. “Cynthia fucking Wood.”

Compared to Sara, Cynthia’s application is very tame. The headshot was taken professionally and makes her look friendly and approachable. She has curly, brown hair that reaches past her shoulders and a sharp chin that gives her an air of elegance. Brown eyes, twenty-two, and five-eight.

“It says here she went to Parker High. Isn’t that where you went?” Jade asks.

“Yup,” Aurora grimaces. “Thought she was the fucking queen of high school despite being a stupid bitch.”

“Everything was fine,” Madison explains. “Until—”

“Until that stupid fucking cunt stole my boyfriend!”

“Did she get held back or something?” Jade giggles.

“No, she took off a year to travel Europe and—”

“WITH MY BOYFRIEND!” Aurora interrupts.

“—then tried to get started as an artist. Now she’s applying as an art major.”

“Sounds like an easy deny,” Jade says.

“There’s a complication. She’s legacy. Her mother was an Alpha Tau and according to our bylaws, that means we have to at least let her pledge.”

“But does she know that?”

“We have to destroy her,” Aurora says hotly, pounding the mattress hard enough for a stack of folders to fall over.

“I agree,” Madison says.

“Got any ideas?” Jade asks.

“I have an idea,” Aurora says, grinning wickedly. “It’s going to be the most humiliating thing anyone at this school has ever experienced but I need both of you to help.”

“You know we’re up for anything,” Jade laughs. “What do you need us to do?”

“You remember what happened to that one pledge two years ago?”

“You mean that cow that got so drunk she fucked the stripper on the stage?”

Aurora taps the fact sheet.

“Says here that her dumb bitch mother is dead but her father still lives in Greenville. Right around the corner. Never remarried. Do you see where I’m getting at?”

“No, how is that going to help?” Madison asks, puzzled.

“How do you feel about sucking an older guy’s dick?”

Madison pushes Cynthia’s folder away, revealing Sara’s stack of dirty pictures underneath. “Why do the dirty work ourselves when we have such eager helpers?” she laughs.

— Cynthia —

Funny. I’m more nervous sitting here in the waiting room than I am before a first date. There’s the same stomach-twisting sense of anxiety, though. What if he doesn’t like me? What if I embarrass myself? What if I’m not good enough?

The stakes are much higher than for just a date. Alpha Tau, my mom’s old sorority, the fabled band of merrymakers who all come from rich, well-connected families. It is like a golden ticket for a family like mine.

At every party, I’d have unfettered access to fancy people in fancy dress who like fancy art. A paramount hunting ground for any artist and not to bahis firmaları mention a safety net for everything else. Dad got his job because the business belonged to the uncle of one of Mom’s A-T sisters. Mom got her job because she met the guy at a fundraising event.

Getting into Alpha Tau might be more important than the art degree.

The door opens and a woman storms out, bawling her eyes out. She flees down the hallway, past the thirty-odd of us applicants, never to be seen again. I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Cynthia Wood, please,” a pleasant voice calls out.

The butterflies in my stomach soar for a moment. I get up and enter the small but cozy office. This room alone looks like it cost more to furnish than our entire home despite being barely bigger than a dorm room.

A young woman sits behind the desk and smiles at me. Her name is Madison and I’ve talked to her before over the summer; she’s in charge of recruitment. We spent half an hour chatting over iced-coffee while she easily pried all kinds of details about my private life out of me as if she were a witch. There’s a folder on the ornate table, opened.

“Please take a seat, Cynthia.”

I can’t help but notice what looks like teardrops on the arm-cushion of the chair. Am I going to be running out of here sobbing?

“We have a lot more applicants this year than in normal years,” Madison begins and I feel my heart sink. “As pleased as we are about our growing popularity, we do have to make some tough decisions.”

“I really want to be part of Alpha Tau,” I say in the most confident tone I can muster. “I know that I’m probably not as qualified as some of the others but my additional experience could be useful to the sisterhood.”

“How so?” Madison asks, looking a little surprised.

“Well, for starters, I’m never going to embarrass Alpha Tau. I have had my crazy wild experiences already. I know when to stop drinking before I lose control, I have spent time in other cultures and know how to be respectful, and I already have a small foothold in the business world that could be useful fundraising contacts.”

Madison seems pleased with this answer. I rehearsed it for at least a week, a killer pitch that hits all the right spots. Over its long history, Alpha Tau has had surprisingly few public embarrassments but most of them had been in the last three years. A party two years that got so raunchy, the national president of Alpha Tau had to apologize, the inability to hit fundraising goals the previous year, and a demographics problem. Being as white as the rest of them doesn’t really earn me a point in the last category but being open to other cultures might at least increase their odds of attracting more diverse sisters.

“Hmm,” Madison grunts, leans back in the chair, and picks up my folder again, giving it a second glance. “Still decided on an art major, huh?”

“Yes. It’s my passion. I’ve been drawing and painting since I was old enough to hold a pen.”

“Under different circumstances, we might—wait, your mother was Alpha Tau?”

“Yes,” I say, seizing on the opportunity. “Deborah Wood. Debbie. Oh, I suppose she still went by her maiden name back then. Debbie Brown.”

“Well, congratulations, Cynthia,” Madison says, letting the folder fall on the table. “I know it’s probably not how you hoped it would go but all legacies are entitled to pledge with Alpha Tau according to our bylaws. I’m not saying that means you’ll be accepted but you’ll have a fair shot at competing with the other pledges.”

“Really?” I ask, sitting at the edge of my seat.

“Yup. We’ll be conducting a series of aptitude tests to see how well you mesh with other sisters and if you impress us enough, you’ll be allowed to take the oath to become a full sister. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great,” I say, beaming.

Madison bites her lip and wrinkles her nose as if she’s contemplating whether or not to say something. “Oh and, uh, how do you feel about a little, light hazing?”

“Anything to get into Alpha Tau,” I say.

“Then I’d like to extend my welcome to a new pledge,” Madison says, stands up, and extends her hand.

I jump to my feet and shake it, overjoyed. I made it past the first hurdle.

— Tom —

Feeling miserable, I rub the spot on my ring finger where the wedding ring used to sit. No amount of alcohol seems to make the nagging emptiness go away. I sigh and take another sip of whiskey. Disgusting stuff.

It’s been five years since Debbie passed but it still feels like a betrayal to sit in a bar by myself on a Friday evening. It’s beyond time, however. With Cy going to college, the house will be empty again. Quiet. Lonely.

I tried dating during the year Cy spent in Europe but beyond half a dozen one-night stands and one two-month fiasco, nothing materialized. I’m still too heartbroken over Debbie, I guess. But now it’s finally time. Even Cy thinks so.

Still, I’m not interested in rushing headlong into things. I haven’t dated seriously in kaçak iddaa a very long time and I am rusty. I need to get back in the groove, find my mojo. As close as Cy and I are, I don’t quite feel comfortable asking her for dating tips. Poor girl, she tried so hard to replace her mother, always taking care of the household, but can’t do everything.

Maybe I’ll have to get her to teach me how to do online dating. Sitting in a bar is depressing. Everyone is so young and I’m old. Forty-five, creeping up on fifty.

Loud laughter gets everyone’s attention. A group of women just entered. College-aged and definitely beautiful. Two of them are blonde, as if God slipped with the copy-paste tool, though one is just a little bit taller and just a little prettier. The third has very light, brown hair and made up for her height with chest size. The fourth was something else. Red hair and a full-body figure, evoking both sensuousness and softness. Hips wider than mine.

Of course, I immediately daydream about what it would be like to be with someone like her. I sigh and take another sip. Those days are past me.

I’m just about to turn back around and order another whiskey when she suddenly heads right toward me. My stomach lurches and I begin panicking, unsure what to do or say.

Completely ignoring me, she hops on the barstool next to mine and I feel like an idiot. Of course, she’s not coming to chat you up, you old fool.

“Yo, can I get eight kamikaze shots?” she calls out.

After the bartender acknowledges her order, she spins around, leans against the counter, and puts her elbows up. She turns her head toward me and looks me straight in the eyes. That’s when I realize I’ve been staring at her like a randy goat the entire time.

I snap my head forward and pretend like I’m taking another sip of my empty tumbler.

“You look familiar, have we met?” the woman asks in a mellifluous voice.

Acting surprised, I look over at her, raise my eyebrows as if I just noticed she sits there, and then look puzzled.

“I don’t think so,” I say courteously, and then, against my best intentions, I blurt out, “I’d remember someone as pretty as you.”

Smooth. Really fucking smooth, you idiot.

To my surprise, the woman giggles and blushes. An unexpected response. I look toward her group of friends, who seem to have settled into a booth.

“You’re not in the band The Flying Pigs by any chance?” she asks.

“No, sorry. Just a humble engineer.”

“Oh,” she mutters and her shoulders sag in disappointment. “You look a lot like their singer. I used to have the biggest crush on him,” she says and giggles again.

Is she flirting with me? I can’t tell. If I look like this guy she thinks I look like and she had a crush on him, does that mean she thinks I’m attractive? Why are my palms suddenly so sweaty? I surreptitiously dry them on my jeans.

“Now I wish I were him,” I quip.

The woman grins widely, turns toward me, and leans her elbow on the counter. She was packing quite a bit in her tight t-shirt, much more than was apparent at first glance.

Fuck, am I staring at her tits? That’s like rule number one of flirting. Don’t stare at her tits. I look up again but too late. She knows.

“How good are you at singing?”

“I know how to sing nursery rhymes but that’s about it.”

“You really do look just like him,” she says and bites her bottom lip.

The bartender arrives and sets down a tray of eight, bright blue shots, breaking our concentration. I sigh internally. It is the first time in a couple of Friday evenings that anything remotely interesting happens and now it’s gone.

But the pretty redhead doesn’t leave, she keeps sitting there, looking at me. She cocks her head to the side. Motivated by my baser nature, my eyes drift lower. Her nipples are poking through the fabric. Alert, alert, alert! Her nipples are hard.

Jesus Christ, what am I supposed to do?

“Would you be willing to sing something for—”

“SARA! GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE,” one of her friends yells across the bar.

The woman, Sara apparently, jumps and sits up straight. She slips off the chair and grabs the tray of shots. She looks at me again with an odd expression

“Are you sure you’re not him? I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’m not, sadly,” I sigh.

“Oh,” she says, once again disappointed, and scurries off. I watch her ass bounce with every step.

Sara sets the tray down on the table and just before slipping into the booth and out of sight, she looks at me again. She smiles a very mischievous smile.

My heart is thumping in my chest but now that I’m out of the immediate sphere of her libidinous influence, I can think a little clearer.

The young woman can’t be much older than Cynthia. Twenty-one or twenty-two at best. Older than Cy, sure, but still so damn young. And I was flirting with her. An old man. A creep.

Feeling disgusted with myself, I get up and stretch my aching legs. Another reminder of what a fossil I am. I bet her legs don’t kaçak bahis creak when she gets up.

The cool evening air is refreshing and I take a deep breath. A one-mile walk back home will do me good. Nothing that’s going to make me think about sex. Unfortunately, also nothing that’s going to stop me from thinking about sex.

Normally, it takes me about twenty minutes to get home slightly buzzed but today I make it in twelve. There’s an urgent matter between my legs I need to take care of.

— Cynthia —

It’s been a very short but highly confusing day. I show up bright and early at ten at the Alpha Tau house for pledge orientation and who opens up the other than dear old Aurora? My cheek started to hurt just looking at her, remembering the slap she’d delivered during lunch. And the reason she greeted me, that is to say, all the pledges, is that she’s the freaking head honcho of this place. Just my luck.

Three years seem to have healed a lot of wounds. She greeted me with a smile and a hug, saying what a delight it is to see me again. She seems to have gotten over Todd eventually and I sure as shit didn’t bring up the sore wound. Although on second glance, her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

And now the three of us, with Madison tagging along, head up the third floor where I’m supposed to stay the weekend and pledge my allegiance to Alpha Tau. My suitcase is stuffed with clothes, makeup, shoes, and everything else I need to become a sorority sister. And some snacks.

“This is your room,” Aurora announces, pushing open the door of the third room on the left. “You’ll be bunking with—”

The first thing I see is a woman’s bare butt. A cute, shapely butt with freckles, a dark butthole, and dripping wet pussy. Attached to the butt are two milky white legs with killer thighs on one end, and a curvaceous body on the other. A mop of red hair is buried between a second woman’s legs.

The second woman is a lot skinnier, with a black pixie cut, and, other than her bottoms, still dressed. Her fists grip the bedsheet tightly and her eyes are closed. She’s panting heavily and moaning in between.

Madison clears her throat loudly.

The second woman’s eyes snap open and she looks at us, terrified. The redhead looks up briefly to smile a very wet smile before diving back between the woman’s legs.

“Well, the rug muncher is Sara and—”

“Ohhhhhhhh,” not-Sara moans, and her eyes snap shut again. Her leg starts to tremble for real.

“—the lucky lady is Ellie. Why don’t you get to know each other and I’ll pick you up later?” Aurora finishes.

And then the door closes behind me and we’re alone. Ellie’s moaning is getting louder and louder and I try my best to ignore the two.

The room has three beds, a sink and mirror in the corner, and two windows. One of the beds is still empty and I assume that it is mine. I heave the suitcase on top of the mattress.

“You want me to do you, too?” someone asks.

I turn around and Sara is looking at me with hungry eyes. She is voluptuous in the kind of ways that drives guys crazy and she doesn’t seem to have any problems showing off her beauty. A part of me is jealous. I’ll never look like that. Ellie has collapsed on the bed and is just lying there, breathing and occasionally giggling.

“No thanks,” I say.

“I’m Sara,” Sara says.

“Cynthia,” I reply. My friends all call me Cy but I’m not sure if Sara is a friend or not.

Sara walks over to the sink, turns the tap, and begins washing her face.

Now, I’m by no means conservative — no, I like to think I’m quite adventurous — but I’m definitely not like Sara. The woman doesn’t seem to have a shy bone in her body.

“And you’re a pledge, too?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yup,” Sara beams. “I really want to get in. A-T has the hottest girls on campus and the hottest guys go to the parties.”

“You just want to have sex?” I blurt out.

“Well… yeah, more or less,” Sara shrugs and grins again. For some reason, I like her. “You? Guys or girls?”

“Art,” I reply. “A-T has the best connections.”

“Same reason, different goal, then,” she chuckles.

“I suppose so. My mom was an Alpha Tau.”

“Ohh, lucky. I only have what God gave me to get in,” she says, gesturing at her body.

“Seems plenty.”

“I’M NOT GAY,” Ellie shouts, sitting up in the bed.

Both of us turn toward her and begin laughing. After a second, Ellie joins in.

***

“Okay, sluts, from now on until midnight on Sunday, you are under our direct command, is that understood?” Madison yells.

“Yes, mistress,” all of us shout in response.

We’re all lined up in the A-T common room, almost a dozen of us. Sara and Ellie are standing next to me, hands at their sides, chin held high. Madison strides up and down the line like a drill sergeant.

“We are the best sisterhood on campus and we will only accept the best pledges. There are six spots open this year and there are eleven of you. Does anyone need me to do the math for you?”

“No, mistress,” we reply in unison.

“Good. Now, we have some special rules for all of you. The first rule is, no alcohol for the next two days unless we give it to you. Understood?”

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