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“This has got to be the sickest stunt us Delts have ever pulled,” Phoebe whispered. “Poor Colleen.”
“Shh,” Brooke said. She watched Colleen through the gauzy curtain surrounding the bed.
“I mean it,” Phoebe said. “I could puke. How can she stay so cool?”
“Because she’s Colleen,” Brooke snapped sotto voce. “She’s our president and she’s got Delta in her genes. Mother. Sister. Grandmother. All chapter presidents too, you know. In this very house.”
“This very house we’re gonna loose.”
“We are not losing our house. Money talks, sister.”
“I can hear you whispering,” Colleen said. “It’s not helping.”
Phoebe cleared her throat. “Sorry. Is the room okay? Did I get everything like you wanted? There wasn't much time and—”
“It’s great,” Colleen said. “I’m just a little…gun-shy now the hour’s arrived.”
“Cock-shy, you mean,” Brooke said.
Phoebe glanced poisoned daggers at Brooke. “You sure you don’t want anyone else with you? I mean…Jesus, Collie, you don’t have to go through with this. There’s other ways.”
“Other ways, yes,” Colleen said, stepping through the curtain. “But there’s no more time.”
“I know, I know. A cashier’s check Monday or moving vans Tuesday.”
“And bulldozers Wednesday,” Colleen said. “Old Greek Row…the last obstacle to our dear chancellor's grand vision. We’re the crown jewel. If we go down, the other houses fall like dominos. Shame on us for letting Bane’s piss away so much history for parking lots and a cafeteria.”
Phoebe sniffed. “We could call alumnae. Solicit donations—”
“We are not beggars,” Colleen said. “That’s not the Delta way. Even if there were time.”
“And this is?” Phoebe’s eyes teared.
“Cry and I’ll totally lose it.” Colleen hugged Phoebe. “Hey, where’s your Delta spunk? In twenty years we’ll meet here for a reunion and we’ll know it was us, Delta Sigma Epsilon class of ’16, who saved this place. And we’ll laugh our asses off at how we did it.”
Phoebe nodded. “Okay, Collie. But we’re all getting drunk after this.”
“You know it, sister,” Colleen said. “Purple shit-faced drunk.” She swatted Phoebe’s butt and pushed her toward the door. “Now get out there, control freak. That’s where we, where I, need you.”
Brooke locked the door. Colleen’s room, the ‘presidential suite’ the girls called it because it had its own bathroom, had been emptied of everything except a bed, a chair, and a table. Colleen stood with her hands clasped under her chin staring at the floor. The charisma and confidence that made her such a terrific leader had suddenly turned inside out.
“Collie?” Brooke said.
“Yeah?”
“We need to let ‘em know downstairs.”
Colleen ignored Brooke. Her hands moved, wistfully gathering her hair and twisting it into a bun.
“Collie?” Brooke said.
Colleen clenched a hair pin between her teeth. “Don’t rush me.”
Brooke waited. The bass track of a rap song filtered through the floor.
Colleen finished her hair and rubbed her palms on her khaki shorts. “Brooke, I’m gonna do it.”
“Collie?” Brooke said gently.
“Yeah?”
“If you’re going to do it, you have to take off your clothes.” For a moment, Brooke thought Colleen’s resolve had withered. She bit her lower lip, looked around as if seeking an escape, and drifted to the window. She pulled aside the blinds. Even at night, one could see the college administration building across the tree-studded commons.
“Not on my watch, Banes,” Colleen said. She lifted off her sorority shirt and folded it with the Greek letters exposed. Nothing bearing ΔΣΕ could touch the ground or be treated with disrespect. Every pledge had this tradition seared into her brain with humiliations most need experience only once.
Colleen’s fingers seemingly sought reasons not to unzip her shorts, not to push them down, not to shed her panties. But she did, and she folded each with the same care as her shirt. She handed her clothes to Brooke and crawled naked onto the bed like it was thin ice over rushing water. She eased onto her back and crossed her arms over her breasts. Brooke retrieved a gym bag from the closet.
“Brooke?” Colleen said.
“Yes?”
“Where did you put my clothes?”
“Hanging in the bathroom. I put a bra with them.” Brooke dug four padded leather cuffs out of the gym bag.
“Okay.”
Brooke buckled a cuff around Colleen’s left ankle. Her skin felt cool, almost clammy.
“No bras tonight,” Colleen said. “That’s bold for some of the girls.”
Brooke laughed. “Like Phoebe? Let’s hope jiggling tits jiggle loose some credit cards.”
“Are you two getting along?”
“Well enough.”
Colleen smiled. “Some of the girls painted pride flags on their cheeks for the wedding.”
“Maria, Ashley…and Laura, I think,” Brooke said.
“It’s cool two guys got married on campus.”
“I had class, couldn’t go.” Brooke fitted a cuff to Colleen’s right ankle, pushed the leather tongue into the buckle, and snugged it.
“It’s only right,” Colleen said. “People should be free to marry whomever they love. Thank you Justice Kennedy. Do you know the newlyweds?”
“Seen them around, but no.” Brooke took lengths of black rope from the bag.
Colleen wiggled her toes. “I had a class with Dave. He’s—“
“Collie?”
“Yeah?”
“You got to spread your legs.”
“Okay.”
Brooke tied the ankle cuffs to the bed frame. In turn, she lifted each of Colleen’s arms and wrapped a cuff around the wrist. Colleen smiled through her apprehension as Brooke fussed with the buckles.
“How’s that?” Brooke said after tying off the last cuff.
Colleen surveyed her spreadeagled body. During rehearsal, she had neither undressed nor been tied. A mistake, thought Brooke at the time, but Colleen had been determined to project a nonchalant face to the girls, some of whom had voiced second thoughts. Now, Colleen jerked each cuff, timidly at first, then harder, and whatever apprehensions she had hidden blossomed.
“Oh my God,” she panted. “I’m helpless…I can’t…Brooke…I can’t…”
Brooke cupped her face. “Colleen! Look at me. Phoebe. Zoe. Chandra. Maria. Emily. Ashley. Haley. Laura. Me. No one touches you that doesn’t run our gauntlet. We all pledged together. Remember the hell that witch Deirdre put us through? We took care of each other. We’ll take care of you.”
Colleen said nothing.
“Collie,” Brooke said. “Zoe and Haley both said they’d do this. Should I call them?”
Colleen blinked. “Emily…Emily said she would if someone did it with her…maybe she…no. I’m doing it.” Her eyes focused on Brooke. “I am doing it.”
“‘Fear is the mind-killer,’” Brooke said, quoting Colleen’s favorite novel.
“‘Fear is the mind-killer.’” Colleen closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She whispered the words again.
Brooke smacked Colleen’s cheek. “Practice what you preach, sister.”
Colleen nodded. “I’m Okay now. Brooke?”
“Yes?”
“Sorry I’m such a wuss. It’s all kind of hit me at—oh for fucks sake, Brooke. Padlocks?”
Brooke smiled. “For the cuffs. A little bling to reinforce the fantasy. A stuck-up sorority girl at his mercy. Naked, helpless, humbled by his mighty cock. Not that I think there’s a cock anywhere that could humble you. Just pretend. Guys eat that submissive shit up.”
“What if there’s an emergency?” Colleen said. “You lose the key or something? Anything could—”
“Relax. I won’t lose the key. Trust me.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
Colleen squirmed. “I need to pee.”
“Shit, Collie. I just got you rigged. It’s nerves.”
“I’m gonna wet the bed.”
“Go ahead. I doubt the horny pricks will care.”
Colleen dropped her head onto the pillow and sighed. “That’s gross. Brooke?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For tying you to a bed to get fucked for money?”
“Seriously. For being the bad cop.”
“My pleasure.” Brooke sat on the bed and dangled a gag over Colleen’s head. “OK, Madam President, you got any more excuses?”
Colleen frowned. “You said you’d use a ball gag. That’s a, uh—”
“Penis gag,” Brooke said. “You know guys will try to stick their tongues in your mouth. This thing should keep ‘em out, the way it’s made.”
Colleen started to speak and Brooke jammed the stubby faux cock into her mouth. “Head up.” She tightened the velcro straps. “How’s that? Not too tight?”
No, nodded Colleen.
Brooke made a last inspection of the cuffs and tapped Colleen’s foot. “Show me ‘yes.’”
Colleen extended both index fingers.
“‘No’?”
Colleen made a V sign with both hands.
“‘Get the motherfucker off me’?”
Colleen flexed all her fingers wildly.
Brooke touched Colleen’s shoulder. “Remember, we’ve got your six. It’ll go down just like we practiced except for the, um, carnal knowledge part. Last thing. I’ll always be where I can see you and the guy. I see something I don’t like, I’m crashing the party regardless. Now, ready to rock and roll?”
Colleen tentatively raised a finger. Yes.
Brooke stuck her head out the bedroom door and Phoebe rushed over ready to burst.
“How’s Collie?” she asked. Her boyfriend followed, towering over Phoebe’s petite frame as she tried to peer around Brooke.
Brooke stepped into the hallway and closed the door. “Scared shitless and brave as a lion, but she’s determined. Hunter, you’re sweet for helping out.” Brooke went on tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, Phoebe, it’s time to—”
“I need to check everything,” said Phoebe, attempting to maneuver around Brooke.
“No,” Brooke said.
Phoebe’s jaw stiffened. “Get out of my way.”
“Please, Phoebe,” Brooke said. “Trust me just this once.”
Hunter hauled Phoebe back. “She’s right, babe. Think about Colleen. Waiting’s worse than doing.”
Phoebe retreated in a sulk. She slapped open the bedsheets cordoning off the end of the hallway and headed downstairs. Hunter shrugged an apology.
“No need, Hunter,” Brooke said. “It’s nothing personal with Phoebe. Remember, Laura brings each guy up and—sorry you get to watch—he strips to undies out here. Laura makes the last call whether he gets in. I take him from there. I’ve got my stunner, but if I scream, you blow through this door and break the asshole’s head.”
Hunter touched the truncheon at his hip. “You got it.”
Brooke kissed him again and reminded herself to do something nice for him. She closed but did not lock the bedroom door, and squeezed Colleen’s hand.
Downstairs, the music stopped. The whole affair was disguised as a legitimate fundraiser. Zoe and Maria, reinforced by Chandra’s boyfriend, were the gatekeepers. No uninvited male would gain admittance and everyone would surrender their phone. If Zoe and Maria smelled alcohol, or had a bad feeling, the guy wouldn't pass. Ashley, the DJ and master of ceremonies, would engage the guests with a throaty purr that could give a dead man an erection. Emily, the treasurer, would collect “donations.” Likewise, Haley would manage three new members warming up the boys by breaking in a new dance pole. The dancers couldn’t be nude, but they had donned their costumes for the rehearsal, and, well, damn. Phoebe would mingle and short-circuit problems.
From two floors up, Brooke could distinguish the rhythm but not the words as Ashley pumped the crowd. The cheers grew louder. Finally, Ashley’s voice faded into pregnant silence, then exploded into a wildcat cry that carried to every room in the house.
“WHO WANTS TO FUCK THE PRESIDENT OF DELTA SIGMA EPSILON?”
“Holy shit,” Brooke muttered as the old house vibrated with the roar.
Colleen groaned.
* * *
This is turning out a lot more perverted than I expected, thought Brooke. The beginning had been nothing but awkward. So intimidated was the first guy that he dropped two condoms before he got one on, and then he wasn’t stiff enough to penetrate Colleen. Her impersonation of a mortally embarrassed horizontal mannequin didn’t help, but no matter, because once the guy got hard he had lasted mere seconds.
That was what, six, seven men ago? No, she told herself. Stay focused. Counting cocks isn’t your job. The only cock that matters is the one fucking Colleen.
And now Brooke watched a sweating ectomorph she’d nicknamed Mr. Skinny ride Colleen like a cheap suit. He’d veer close to coming, only to pull out to kiss her breasts while he cooled, then plunge back in humping furiously. He must have done it a dozen times. Colleen applied her skills. She hated it. She liked it. She hated it, decided maybe it wasn’t so bad after all, then couldn’t get enough. She struggled and writhed, whimpered and moaned. She tried defiant and submissive. She faked an orgasm loud enough that Brooke worried Hunter would crash through the door, but she couldn’t make him come.
Mr. Skinny never wavered until, finally, he collapsed on Colleen, his clenching ass cheeks the only evidence of his release.
“Fucking awesome,” he wheezed and climbed off.
Brooke pushed a wad of paper towels his way and made sure he dropped his condom in the wastebasket. She escorted him to the door. “Be sure tell your friends what a great time you had.”
Her phone chimed Maria’s tone.
kap alph dude
+100 if gf can watch
advise
“We didn’t anticipate that weirdness,” Brooke said to herself.
“Mmm?” Colleen raised her head.
“Nothing. Just Maria checking in.” Brooke tapped a reply.
C’s call. Hold.
She dampened a hand towel in cool water. Colleen’s belly rose and fell with hard breathing. A thick sheen of sweat covered her and puddled in her navel. Her hair and the sheet were wringing wet.
“I didn’t think Mr. Skinny was ever gonna pop,” Brooke said as she wiped Colleen’s face and neck.
No.
“My favorite working girl.” Brooke dried Colleen’s breasts and belly.
Colleen aimed a profanity-laden glare at Brooke.
Brooke toweled between Colleen’s legs and checked her left ankle cuff. “Better?”
Yes.
That cuff, too tight, had started pinching when Colleen had battled a toad any woman would loathe. Mr. Toad mounted Colleen and started pounded away hard enough to make her grunt, all the while telling her how much he knew she liked it. Suddenly, he stopped mid-thrust, said something Brooke didn’t catch, and dribbled spit on Colleen’s ΔΣΕ lavaliere.
Brooke leapt up brandishing the stunner. “No spitting. Get out.”
“Hell, no,” the guy said, leering at Colleen. “You like it, don’t you bitch? Tell this slut you like it.”
A mask of perfect scorn descended over Colleen’s face. Yes, she nodded very slowly.
Brooke hesitated. She knew that look too well. Mr. Toad had pushed the wrong button.
“Collie,” Brooke said. “You want me to call Hunter?”
No.
“See,” Mr. Toad said. “She likes it.”
Think that if you will, Brooke thought. She took one step back but kept the stunner ready. She had not needed it. Mr. Toad had filled up his condom in short order, and Colleen had found her moxie.
Brooke unfastened the gag. Colleen spit it out.
“Goddamn,” she sputtered. “Did these assholes all jerk-off or something? Nobody came come.”
Brooke put a straw in Colleen’s mouth. “Drink up. Probably got some bet going. You know how boys are.”
“Yuck.”
“Drink it,” Brooke said. “You need the electrolytes.”
Colleen sucked the bottle empty.
Brooke adjusted Colleen’s pillow. “Got to keep you hydrated and refreshed. Our clientele expect a healthy, randy whore.”
Colleen lunged to the limits of her bondage. “You wanna trade places? You wanna let one these apes drool all over your face? I dare—”
Brooke shoved the penis gag into Colleen’s mouth and kissed her forehead. “Keep that Delta spunk boiling, sister. The night is young.”
Brooke waked her phone and tapped a reply to Maria.
C says OK but +150 & gf strips.
Maria answered.
dude & gf say yes
Brooke smiled.
* * *
Brooke checked the time. 0210. She texted Zoe, Emily, and Phoebe.
Time to stop.
Brooke’s phone chimed Zoe’s tone.
good - keystone cops just cruised by
Phoebe’s tone followed on its heels.
closing down
A few minutes later, Brooke’s phone again chimed Phoebe’s tone.
all men out house clear coming up
“Shit,” Brooke said. “Hey Collie, I’ll be right back.”
Brooke intercepted Phoebe at the top of the stairs and bullied her down to the first floor with her bitching every step. Phoebe’s loyalty to Colleen and the Delta’s was legion, but she could be a cosmic pain in the ass. A sea of upturned faces waited at the bottom of the stairs. The three new members, still mostly naked, stood front and center. Brooke stopped two steps from the bottom.
“Collie’s fine,” she announced to great relief. “She’s taking a long, hot shower. She’s glad it’s over, exhausted, sore—” some girls smiled pensively and others laughed. “Collie told me to tell you that you all are the absolute best. Emily, please tell me we made our goal.”
Emily waved her PDA. “We just squeaked by. Colleen did the heavy lifting and the newbies iced the cake. Good call, Haley, selling lap dances.”
Haley pumped her fist. “Kat, Paula, Cecilia…you girls are awesome.”
The three beamed and collected congratulatory hugs.
“Okay, listen up,” Brooke said. “We stick to the plan. Everyone out of the house so Colleen can decompress and sleep. She asked me to stay with her.”
“I’m staying, too” said Phoebe.
“No,” Brooke said. “You leave with the rest. Put yourself in Collie’s place. The next time Hunter climbs on top of you, imagine he’s number twenty for the night. Besides, I told him you’d vowed to give him a sick blowjob and swallow for every guy that fucked Colleen. You ladies back me on that?”
“I did not,” Phoebe yelled red-faced amidst the affirming hoots.
Paula jumped up next to Brooke. “Let’s have a house-rockin’ Delta cheer for Collie…”
* * * *
Brooke walked through the party-cluttered rooms opening doors and closets making sure no one was lurking or forgotten or sleeping. Tomorrow morning, Zoe would oversee the new members as they cleaned the house. In the afternoon, all the ΔΣΕ girls would return. Colleen’s story would be told and retold, with each girl adding her own embellishments and exaggerations. A new legend would be born.
The house was saved. Colleen had done it.
The aroma of fresh chocolate chip cookies lured Brooke into the kitchen. They were Colleen’s favorite, and someone had managed to bake a dozen amidst the chaos. Brooke scavenged a clean cup, poured it full of cold milk, and chewed a gooey cookie between sips of milk as she climbed to the third floor.
Brooke opened the bedroom door and the humid bouquet of prolonged sweaty sex pushed her back. She wrinkled her nose. The scent did not play nice with the cookie and milk.
“Wow, Collie,” she said. “Must be what a Roman orgy smelled like.” Brooke left the door open.
Colleen grunted but didn’t say anything. She lay spread-eagled on the bed, the cuffs still padlocked to her ankles and wrists, the ropes still tight, the penis gag still filling her mouth. Her eyes warily followed Brooke.
Brooke sat on the bed and sipped the milk and nibbled the cookie. “The girls are gone. Just us in the house. If I take the gag out, we both know what you’ll do, don’t we?”
Yes.
“So I won’t.” Brooke ate the last bite of cookie and brushed away crumbs. “I think Laura baked those. She always adds an extra splash of vanilla.”
Brooke padded to the closet and peeled off her shirt. As naturally as breathing, she folded it like Colleen had hers and placed it on the shelf next to the gym bag. She shimmied out of her shorts and panties, tossed them aside, and removed the last item from the gym bag. She turned.
Colleen’s eyes widened. No. No. No.
Brooke stepped into the leather strap-on harness. “Yes. Yes. Yes, Madam President.”
She untied Colleen’s ankle cuffs and retied them to her wrist cuffs. Colleen offered only a token struggle.
“Beautiful,” Brooke said. She crawled on the bed and knelt between Colleen’s splayed legs. She squirted lube into her palm and stroked the dildo.
“The more I think about it, the more I like your idea of getting married in this house. We can do that now. No one can stop us. Wife and wife to the world. Mistress wife and slave wife to each other. Think you handle that, Collie?”
Yes.
“Then that shall be our future, my love.”
Brooke leaned forward until her nipples grazed Colleen’s breasts. She stroked the dildo up and down Colleen’s slit, then shifted until its blunt tip poised against her anus.
“But in the here and now, my beautiful Mistress, you’re gonna be your slave’s bitch.”
“Shh,” Brooke said. She watched Colleen through the gauzy curtain surrounding the bed.
“I mean it,” Phoebe said. “I could puke. How can she stay so cool?”
“Because she’s Colleen,” Brooke snapped sotto voce. “She’s our president and she’s got Delta in her genes. Mother. Sister. Grandmother. All chapter presidents too, you know. In this very house.”
“This very house we’re gonna loose.”
“We are not losing our house. Money talks, sister.”
“I can hear you whispering,” Colleen said. “It’s not helping.”
Phoebe cleared her throat. “Sorry. Is the room okay? Did I get everything like you wanted? There wasn't much time and—”
“It’s great,” Colleen said. “I’m just a little…gun-shy now the hour’s arrived.”
“Cock-shy, you mean,” Brooke said.
Phoebe glanced poisoned daggers at Brooke. “You sure you don’t want anyone else with you? I mean…Jesus, Collie, you don’t have to go through with this. There’s other ways.”
“Other ways, yes,” Colleen said, stepping through the curtain. “But there’s no more time.”
“I know, I know. A cashier’s check Monday or moving vans Tuesday.”
“And bulldozers Wednesday,” Colleen said. “Old Greek Row…the last obstacle to our dear chancellor's grand vision. We’re the crown jewel. If we go down, the other houses fall like dominos. Shame on us for letting Bane’s piss away so much history for parking lots and a cafeteria.”
Phoebe sniffed. “We could call alumnae. Solicit donations—”
“We are not beggars,” Colleen said. “That’s not the Delta way. Even if there were time.”
“And this is?” Phoebe’s eyes teared.
“Cry and I’ll totally lose it.” Colleen hugged Phoebe. “Hey, where’s your Delta spunk? In twenty years we’ll meet here for a reunion and we’ll know it was us, Delta Sigma Epsilon class of ’16, who saved this place. And we’ll laugh our asses off at how we did it.”
Phoebe nodded. “Okay, Collie. But we’re all getting drunk after this.”
“You know it, sister,” Colleen said. “Purple shit-faced drunk.” She swatted Phoebe’s butt and pushed her toward the door. “Now get out there, control freak. That’s where we, where I, need you.”
Brooke locked the door. Colleen’s room, the ‘presidential suite’ the girls called it because it had its own bathroom, had been emptied of everything except a bed, a chair, and a table. Colleen stood with her hands clasped under her chin staring at the floor. The charisma and confidence that made her such a terrific leader had suddenly turned inside out.
“Collie?” Brooke said.
“Yeah?”
“We need to let ‘em know downstairs.”
Colleen ignored Brooke. Her hands moved, wistfully gathering her hair and twisting it into a bun.
“Collie?” Brooke said.
Colleen clenched a hair pin between her teeth. “Don’t rush me.”
Brooke waited. The bass track of a rap song filtered through the floor.
Colleen finished her hair and rubbed her palms on her khaki shorts. “Brooke, I’m gonna do it.”
“Collie?” Brooke said gently.
“Yeah?”
“If you’re going to do it, you have to take off your clothes.” For a moment, Brooke thought Colleen’s resolve had withered. She bit her lower lip, looked around as if seeking an escape, and drifted to the window. She pulled aside the blinds. Even at night, one could see the college administration building across the tree-studded commons.
“Not on my watch, Banes,” Colleen said. She lifted off her sorority shirt and folded it with the Greek letters exposed. Nothing bearing ΔΣΕ could touch the ground or be treated with disrespect. Every pledge had this tradition seared into her brain with humiliations most need experience only once.
Colleen’s fingers seemingly sought reasons not to unzip her shorts, not to push them down, not to shed her panties. But she did, and she folded each with the same care as her shirt. She handed her clothes to Brooke and crawled naked onto the bed like it was thin ice over rushing water. She eased onto her back and crossed her arms over her breasts. Brooke retrieved a gym bag from the closet.
“Brooke?” Colleen said.
“Yes?”
“Where did you put my clothes?”
“Hanging in the bathroom. I put a bra with them.” Brooke dug four padded leather cuffs out of the gym bag.
“Okay.”
Brooke buckled a cuff around Colleen’s left ankle. Her skin felt cool, almost clammy.
“No bras tonight,” Colleen said. “That’s bold for some of the girls.”
Brooke laughed. “Like Phoebe? Let’s hope jiggling tits jiggle loose some credit cards.”
“Are you two getting along?”
“Well enough.”
Colleen smiled. “Some of the girls painted pride flags on their cheeks for the wedding.”
“Maria, Ashley…and Laura, I think,” Brooke said.
“It’s cool two guys got married on campus.”
“I had class, couldn’t go.” Brooke fitted a cuff to Colleen’s right ankle, pushed the leather tongue into the buckle, and snugged it.
“It’s only right,” Colleen said. “People should be free to marry whomever they love. Thank you Justice Kennedy. Do you know the newlyweds?”
“Seen them around, but no.” Brooke took lengths of black rope from the bag.
Colleen wiggled her toes. “I had a class with Dave. He’s—“
“Collie?”
“Yeah?”
“You got to spread your legs.”
“Okay.”
Brooke tied the ankle cuffs to the bed frame. In turn, she lifted each of Colleen’s arms and wrapped a cuff around the wrist. Colleen smiled through her apprehension as Brooke fussed with the buckles.
“How’s that?” Brooke said after tying off the last cuff.
Colleen surveyed her spreadeagled body. During rehearsal, she had neither undressed nor been tied. A mistake, thought Brooke at the time, but Colleen had been determined to project a nonchalant face to the girls, some of whom had voiced second thoughts. Now, Colleen jerked each cuff, timidly at first, then harder, and whatever apprehensions she had hidden blossomed.
“Oh my God,” she panted. “I’m helpless…I can’t…Brooke…I can’t…”
Brooke cupped her face. “Colleen! Look at me. Phoebe. Zoe. Chandra. Maria. Emily. Ashley. Haley. Laura. Me. No one touches you that doesn’t run our gauntlet. We all pledged together. Remember the hell that witch Deirdre put us through? We took care of each other. We’ll take care of you.”
Colleen said nothing.
“Collie,” Brooke said. “Zoe and Haley both said they’d do this. Should I call them?”
Colleen blinked. “Emily…Emily said she would if someone did it with her…maybe she…no. I’m doing it.” Her eyes focused on Brooke. “I am doing it.”
“‘Fear is the mind-killer,’” Brooke said, quoting Colleen’s favorite novel.
“‘Fear is the mind-killer.’” Colleen closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She whispered the words again.
Brooke smacked Colleen’s cheek. “Practice what you preach, sister.”
Colleen nodded. “I’m Okay now. Brooke?”
“Yes?”
“Sorry I’m such a wuss. It’s all kind of hit me at—oh for fucks sake, Brooke. Padlocks?”
Brooke smiled. “For the cuffs. A little bling to reinforce the fantasy. A stuck-up sorority girl at his mercy. Naked, helpless, humbled by his mighty cock. Not that I think there’s a cock anywhere that could humble you. Just pretend. Guys eat that submissive shit up.”
“What if there’s an emergency?” Colleen said. “You lose the key or something? Anything could—”
“Relax. I won’t lose the key. Trust me.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
Colleen squirmed. “I need to pee.”
“Shit, Collie. I just got you rigged. It’s nerves.”
“I’m gonna wet the bed.”
“Go ahead. I doubt the horny pricks will care.”
Colleen dropped her head onto the pillow and sighed. “That’s gross. Brooke?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For tying you to a bed to get fucked for money?”
“Seriously. For being the bad cop.”
“My pleasure.” Brooke sat on the bed and dangled a gag over Colleen’s head. “OK, Madam President, you got any more excuses?”
Colleen frowned. “You said you’d use a ball gag. That’s a, uh—”
“Penis gag,” Brooke said. “You know guys will try to stick their tongues in your mouth. This thing should keep ‘em out, the way it’s made.”
Colleen started to speak and Brooke jammed the stubby faux cock into her mouth. “Head up.” She tightened the velcro straps. “How’s that? Not too tight?”
No, nodded Colleen.
Brooke made a last inspection of the cuffs and tapped Colleen’s foot. “Show me ‘yes.’”
Colleen extended both index fingers.
“‘No’?”
Colleen made a V sign with both hands.
“‘Get the motherfucker off me’?”
Colleen flexed all her fingers wildly.
Brooke touched Colleen’s shoulder. “Remember, we’ve got your six. It’ll go down just like we practiced except for the, um, carnal knowledge part. Last thing. I’ll always be where I can see you and the guy. I see something I don’t like, I’m crashing the party regardless. Now, ready to rock and roll?”
Colleen tentatively raised a finger. Yes.
Brooke stuck her head out the bedroom door and Phoebe rushed over ready to burst.
“How’s Collie?” she asked. Her boyfriend followed, towering over Phoebe’s petite frame as she tried to peer around Brooke.
Brooke stepped into the hallway and closed the door. “Scared shitless and brave as a lion, but she’s determined. Hunter, you’re sweet for helping out.” Brooke went on tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, Phoebe, it’s time to—”
“I need to check everything,” said Phoebe, attempting to maneuver around Brooke.
“No,” Brooke said.
Phoebe’s jaw stiffened. “Get out of my way.”
“Please, Phoebe,” Brooke said. “Trust me just this once.”
Hunter hauled Phoebe back. “She’s right, babe. Think about Colleen. Waiting’s worse than doing.”
Phoebe retreated in a sulk. She slapped open the bedsheets cordoning off the end of the hallway and headed downstairs. Hunter shrugged an apology.
“No need, Hunter,” Brooke said. “It’s nothing personal with Phoebe. Remember, Laura brings each guy up and—sorry you get to watch—he strips to undies out here. Laura makes the last call whether he gets in. I take him from there. I’ve got my stunner, but if I scream, you blow through this door and break the asshole’s head.”
Hunter touched the truncheon at his hip. “You got it.”
Brooke kissed him again and reminded herself to do something nice for him. She closed but did not lock the bedroom door, and squeezed Colleen’s hand.
Downstairs, the music stopped. The whole affair was disguised as a legitimate fundraiser. Zoe and Maria, reinforced by Chandra’s boyfriend, were the gatekeepers. No uninvited male would gain admittance and everyone would surrender their phone. If Zoe and Maria smelled alcohol, or had a bad feeling, the guy wouldn't pass. Ashley, the DJ and master of ceremonies, would engage the guests with a throaty purr that could give a dead man an erection. Emily, the treasurer, would collect “donations.” Likewise, Haley would manage three new members warming up the boys by breaking in a new dance pole. The dancers couldn’t be nude, but they had donned their costumes for the rehearsal, and, well, damn. Phoebe would mingle and short-circuit problems.
From two floors up, Brooke could distinguish the rhythm but not the words as Ashley pumped the crowd. The cheers grew louder. Finally, Ashley’s voice faded into pregnant silence, then exploded into a wildcat cry that carried to every room in the house.
“WHO WANTS TO FUCK THE PRESIDENT OF DELTA SIGMA EPSILON?”
“Holy shit,” Brooke muttered as the old house vibrated with the roar.
Colleen groaned.
* * *
This is turning out a lot more perverted than I expected, thought Brooke. The beginning had been nothing but awkward. So intimidated was the first guy that he dropped two condoms before he got one on, and then he wasn’t stiff enough to penetrate Colleen. Her impersonation of a mortally embarrassed horizontal mannequin didn’t help, but no matter, because once the guy got hard he had lasted mere seconds.
That was what, six, seven men ago? No, she told herself. Stay focused. Counting cocks isn’t your job. The only cock that matters is the one fucking Colleen.
And now Brooke watched a sweating ectomorph she’d nicknamed Mr. Skinny ride Colleen like a cheap suit. He’d veer close to coming, only to pull out to kiss her breasts while he cooled, then plunge back in humping furiously. He must have done it a dozen times. Colleen applied her skills. She hated it. She liked it. She hated it, decided maybe it wasn’t so bad after all, then couldn’t get enough. She struggled and writhed, whimpered and moaned. She tried defiant and submissive. She faked an orgasm loud enough that Brooke worried Hunter would crash through the door, but she couldn’t make him come.
Mr. Skinny never wavered until, finally, he collapsed on Colleen, his clenching ass cheeks the only evidence of his release.
“Fucking awesome,” he wheezed and climbed off.
Brooke pushed a wad of paper towels his way and made sure he dropped his condom in the wastebasket. She escorted him to the door. “Be sure tell your friends what a great time you had.”
Her phone chimed Maria’s tone.
kap alph dude
+100 if gf can watch
advise
“We didn’t anticipate that weirdness,” Brooke said to herself.
“Mmm?” Colleen raised her head.
“Nothing. Just Maria checking in.” Brooke tapped a reply.
C’s call. Hold.
She dampened a hand towel in cool water. Colleen’s belly rose and fell with hard breathing. A thick sheen of sweat covered her and puddled in her navel. Her hair and the sheet were wringing wet.
“I didn’t think Mr. Skinny was ever gonna pop,” Brooke said as she wiped Colleen’s face and neck.
No.
“My favorite working girl.” Brooke dried Colleen’s breasts and belly.
Colleen aimed a profanity-laden glare at Brooke.
Brooke toweled between Colleen’s legs and checked her left ankle cuff. “Better?”
Yes.
That cuff, too tight, had started pinching when Colleen had battled a toad any woman would loathe. Mr. Toad mounted Colleen and started pounded away hard enough to make her grunt, all the while telling her how much he knew she liked it. Suddenly, he stopped mid-thrust, said something Brooke didn’t catch, and dribbled spit on Colleen’s ΔΣΕ lavaliere.
Brooke leapt up brandishing the stunner. “No spitting. Get out.”
“Hell, no,” the guy said, leering at Colleen. “You like it, don’t you bitch? Tell this slut you like it.”
A mask of perfect scorn descended over Colleen’s face. Yes, she nodded very slowly.
Brooke hesitated. She knew that look too well. Mr. Toad had pushed the wrong button.
“Collie,” Brooke said. “You want me to call Hunter?”
No.
“See,” Mr. Toad said. “She likes it.”
Think that if you will, Brooke thought. She took one step back but kept the stunner ready. She had not needed it. Mr. Toad had filled up his condom in short order, and Colleen had found her moxie.
Brooke unfastened the gag. Colleen spit it out.
“Goddamn,” she sputtered. “Did these assholes all jerk-off or something? Nobody came come.”
Brooke put a straw in Colleen’s mouth. “Drink up. Probably got some bet going. You know how boys are.”
“Yuck.”
“Drink it,” Brooke said. “You need the electrolytes.”
Colleen sucked the bottle empty.
Brooke adjusted Colleen’s pillow. “Got to keep you hydrated and refreshed. Our clientele expect a healthy, randy whore.”
Colleen lunged to the limits of her bondage. “You wanna trade places? You wanna let one these apes drool all over your face? I dare—”
Brooke shoved the penis gag into Colleen’s mouth and kissed her forehead. “Keep that Delta spunk boiling, sister. The night is young.”
Brooke waked her phone and tapped a reply to Maria.
C says OK but +150 & gf strips.
Maria answered.
dude & gf say yes
Brooke smiled.
* * *
Brooke checked the time. 0210. She texted Zoe, Emily, and Phoebe.
Time to stop.
Brooke’s phone chimed Zoe’s tone.
good - keystone cops just cruised by
Phoebe’s tone followed on its heels.
closing down
A few minutes later, Brooke’s phone again chimed Phoebe’s tone.
all men out house clear coming up
“Shit,” Brooke said. “Hey Collie, I’ll be right back.”
Brooke intercepted Phoebe at the top of the stairs and bullied her down to the first floor with her bitching every step. Phoebe’s loyalty to Colleen and the Delta’s was legion, but she could be a cosmic pain in the ass. A sea of upturned faces waited at the bottom of the stairs. The three new members, still mostly naked, stood front and center. Brooke stopped two steps from the bottom.
“Collie’s fine,” she announced to great relief. “She’s taking a long, hot shower. She’s glad it’s over, exhausted, sore—” some girls smiled pensively and others laughed. “Collie told me to tell you that you all are the absolute best. Emily, please tell me we made our goal.”
Emily waved her PDA. “We just squeaked by. Colleen did the heavy lifting and the newbies iced the cake. Good call, Haley, selling lap dances.”
Haley pumped her fist. “Kat, Paula, Cecilia…you girls are awesome.”
The three beamed and collected congratulatory hugs.
“Okay, listen up,” Brooke said. “We stick to the plan. Everyone out of the house so Colleen can decompress and sleep. She asked me to stay with her.”
“I’m staying, too” said Phoebe.
“No,” Brooke said. “You leave with the rest. Put yourself in Collie’s place. The next time Hunter climbs on top of you, imagine he’s number twenty for the night. Besides, I told him you’d vowed to give him a sick blowjob and swallow for every guy that fucked Colleen. You ladies back me on that?”
“I did not,” Phoebe yelled red-faced amidst the affirming hoots.
Paula jumped up next to Brooke. “Let’s have a house-rockin’ Delta cheer for Collie…”
* * * *
Brooke walked through the party-cluttered rooms opening doors and closets making sure no one was lurking or forgotten or sleeping. Tomorrow morning, Zoe would oversee the new members as they cleaned the house. In the afternoon, all the ΔΣΕ girls would return. Colleen’s story would be told and retold, with each girl adding her own embellishments and exaggerations. A new legend would be born.
The house was saved. Colleen had done it.
The aroma of fresh chocolate chip cookies lured Brooke into the kitchen. They were Colleen’s favorite, and someone had managed to bake a dozen amidst the chaos. Brooke scavenged a clean cup, poured it full of cold milk, and chewed a gooey cookie between sips of milk as she climbed to the third floor.
Brooke opened the bedroom door and the humid bouquet of prolonged sweaty sex pushed her back. She wrinkled her nose. The scent did not play nice with the cookie and milk.
“Wow, Collie,” she said. “Must be what a Roman orgy smelled like.” Brooke left the door open.
Colleen grunted but didn’t say anything. She lay spread-eagled on the bed, the cuffs still padlocked to her ankles and wrists, the ropes still tight, the penis gag still filling her mouth. Her eyes warily followed Brooke.
Brooke sat on the bed and sipped the milk and nibbled the cookie. “The girls are gone. Just us in the house. If I take the gag out, we both know what you’ll do, don’t we?”
Yes.
“So I won’t.” Brooke ate the last bite of cookie and brushed away crumbs. “I think Laura baked those. She always adds an extra splash of vanilla.”
Brooke padded to the closet and peeled off her shirt. As naturally as breathing, she folded it like Colleen had hers and placed it on the shelf next to the gym bag. She shimmied out of her shorts and panties, tossed them aside, and removed the last item from the gym bag. She turned.
Colleen’s eyes widened. No. No. No.
Brooke stepped into the leather strap-on harness. “Yes. Yes. Yes, Madam President.”
She untied Colleen’s ankle cuffs and retied them to her wrist cuffs. Colleen offered only a token struggle.
“Beautiful,” Brooke said. She crawled on the bed and knelt between Colleen’s splayed legs. She squirted lube into her palm and stroked the dildo.
“The more I think about it, the more I like your idea of getting married in this house. We can do that now. No one can stop us. Wife and wife to the world. Mistress wife and slave wife to each other. Think you handle that, Collie?”
Yes.
“Then that shall be our future, my love.”
Brooke leaned forward until her nipples grazed Colleen’s breasts. She stroked the dildo up and down Colleen’s slit, then shifted until its blunt tip poised against her anus.
“But in the here and now, my beautiful Mistress, you’re gonna be your slave’s bitch.”
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