Sins of My Sisters

Author's Note: None of the categories fit perfectly. Erotic couplings is closest, but there's a little bit of several categories here. As a trigger warning, if anything surrounding the sorority or fraternity recruitment experience or anything related to hazing makes you uncomfortable, you should skip this story.

It was a Saturday morning like any other except that the day started with the faint, papery scratching sound of something being slipped under my dorm room door. A pink envelope. I was already half awake with the light of the sun streaming between my window blinds and got out of bed and scooted across the room to pick it up. The paper was soft and expensive like the sort that you'd find in the stationary section of a country club store. Only two things were visible on the outside of the envelope--a gold foil seal on the back and a name in black ink across the front written in flowing calligraphy: Elena.

My hands trembled as I flipped my finger under the seal and lifted it. There was a folded card inside on thick white paper. I grinned and pumped my fists in the air when I spotted the Delta Beta Omicron sorority crest at the top.

They liked me! They really liked me! Or at least... they liked me enough to invite me back to their house for a social after having spent time this past week meeting their members.

The invitation was written beneath the crest in the same handwriting as on the front of the envelope. I read it twice. Tonight, 7:00 pm sharp. Classy dress with a pop of pink.

At the bottom was a list of invitees. 30 names were listed in careful, alphabetical order. My own last name stood out among the others, not just because it was the first one in the list. It also stood out because it wasn't Lancaster or Goldman or some other name that sounded like it belonged to someone who spent every summer at Martha's Vineyard. It was a hyphenated name that very strongly suggested Latin-American roots. That wasn't to say someone with Latin-American roots couldn't spend their summers in Martha's Vineyard. However, I had spent most of my summers being lucky if I got the chance to leave the city for more than a week straight.

I recognized a few of the names. Mary Johnson was the first one that jumped out at me. She'd been in my group when I first toured the Delta Beta house. She was nice enough but was trying way too hard the entire time. She also didn't strike me as Delta Beta material.

Delta Beta girls were beautiful and so was everything they owned. They knew it and they never hesitated to throw it in your face. They had the best house, the best clothes, the best cars, the best-looking boyfriends. Their nickname, DB, stood for "Doing Better." Publicly, the phrasing supported the premise that each day, their members tried to do better than the day before--live better lives. But that wasn't their reputation. Despite their community service and altruistic exterior, they were cutthroat bitches. Catty. Snobs. "Doing Better" meant "Doing Better Than You."

But they were also the most prestigious and exclusive sorority on campus. It was well known that many of their members from chapters across the country went on to marry politicians and CEOs. Others ended up in positions of societal power in their own right. Most of them had been born into money to begin with. And if not, joining them was the path to a better life... if you were willing to endure being one of them.

Mary Johnson didn't seem to have any of their qualities. She wasn't hideous, but she was very plain. Her clothes weren't poor quality, but they weren't the most expensive designer clothes. Her family wasn't rich, but she wasn't from a single-mother household that was struggling to get by. And she didn't have the "do-anything-to-get-ahead-of-other-people" attitude that DB had. I had no idea why she was trying to join them. I suspected it was so she could use the sorority for networking and land herself a nice job after graduation. But they'd never let her in. It was a waste of time for her even visiting their house this week, so it was a surprise to see her name listed among those invited back.

The other names that I recognized were the Davis twins, Lauren and Megan. They were practically the walking incarnation of DB if there was one. Long blonde hair, slim bodies, perfect facial features. They'd both shown up for their house visit in fashionable dresses with matching bags. It didn't take long for them to casually mention that they were Dior. Their ability to humble brag about their most recent family vacation was impressive even though it made me want to throw up. I couldn't stand either of them but had done my best to remain civil toward them. I had no doubt they'd get in and was willing to ride their coattails if need be.

I put the invitation back into the envelope and placed it onto my desk next to the chemistry textbook I'd bought the day before. It was the only physical textbook I'd purchased for the semester, but I already had plans to return it because I was changing my major for the third time even though classes wouldn't be starting for another week.

I was still in my pajamas--a pair of high school volleyball shorts and a large t-shirt. Part of me considered lying back down, but there was no way I'd be able to go back to sleep with the excitement of making it this far though DB's selection process. More than 300 girls typically rushed them every year. By Thursday of Recruitment Week, they'd shrink down the pool of hopefuls to about 50 or 60 for preference day, or "pref day."

Typically, if you made it to pref day for the sororities you wanted to get into, it meant you were guaranteed to get into one of them. They'd invite you back to the sorority house to spend more time meeting and speaking with members to figure out which house you preferred. You'd then rank the sororities by preference, and the sororities would rank you by secret ballot. Based on that, you'd get a 'bid,' or invitation to join, from one of the sororities on Sunday. The Saturday night before it, the sororities had casual mixers where you could once again visit your preferred houses. It was a chance to let your hair down and relax because the voting was technically over. It wasn't uncommon for potential new members to drop in to party at 3 or 4 different houses.

DB was different. After pref day, they cut the pool in half and invited the remaining girls back to the house for a more casual social on Saturday night. Unlike the other sororities, their party was exclusive. The expectation was that if you came, you didn't wander between houses. They'd always invite the guys from their brother fraternity, Alpha Zeta Tau. On Sunday morning, they'd pick 10 to 15 girls to join. And none of DB's voting was done by secret ballot. Everyone knew who was getting in and who wasn't. Officially, they made their decision on bids by secret ballot after pref day just like the other sororities. But that was all bullshit and everyone knew it. Saturday night was your last hurdle to get in. They got away with quietly breaking the rules because their members went on to become influential people or married influential people. That influence had a way of influencing the school president and board of trustees to look the other way year after year.

I was halfway back into my bed when my phone began chirping out it's ringtone. Who could be calling at this hour? And why weren't they texting me instead?

I looked at my phone's display: Hannah Thompson. Not 'Hannah T.' or 'the tall blonde from DB.' No, I'd taken the care to put her full name. Hannah Thompson, the power blonde who ran DB's social committee, and more importantly, the one who'd taken an odd liking to me the moment I showed up at the DB house. Unlike the other members in my visiting group, she'd gone out of her way to impress me and make sure I had a good visit. When it was time to leave, she'd quietly pulled me aside and exchanged numbers with me. She called me almost immediately after we left and invited me to secretly meet her at an off-campus diner. Once there, she confessed how impressed she was with me and how much she wanted me to get into DB. She then laid out a dizzying amount of background information on the sorority and drowned me in tips and advice to stay at the front of the pack to ensure I made it through each round of voting. What to do. What to wear. What to say and who to say it to.

We met in secret at the diner every day and Hannah treated me to a meal and gave me more insider info and let me know how I was doing against the rest of the field. So, it wasn't a real surprise when the pink envelope slid under my door.

I scooped up my phone and answered. "Hi, good morning."

"Location one. One hour." Then she hung up.

Her phone communications were always like that. She never texted me. It was always a phone call. And it was never longer than a few seconds. Everything she communicated was done face to face in the diner. According to her, it was to prevent anyone from knowing she was helping me get into DB. Supposedly, they had eyes everywhere and were constantly evaluating potential new members everywhere they went on campus. But I think she actually got off on the cloak-and-dagger stuff a little bit. I found it nerve-wracking. If you've never walked across a college campus while looking over your shoulder and wondering if every move you made was being scrutinized by unseen judges, I highly recommend it for the cardiovascular benefits alone.

By the time I reached the diner, I was both physically and emotionally winded. The inside of the diner was half-empty except for what looked like a couple grad students and a few older people. Hannah was already there, sipping from a cup in a booth near the back. She was wearing a baseball cap with the school logo pulled down low on her head. Despite that, she still looked like she'd stepped out of a lululemon ad: perfect skin, hair in a glossy French braid, long nails painted the exact shade of millennial pink as my invitation envelope.

I slid into the booth across from her, trying not to look like I'd half-run here. Hannah smiled, showing off a row of teeth so straight you could've used them as a ruler.

"Congratulations, Elena," she said, keeping her voice low. "Officially in the running. How's it feel?"

I tried to respond casually even though my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears. "Like I just got invited to tryouts for the Olympic team. Is there a training montage?"

Her laugh was quick and sharp. "No montage. But you'll want to carb-load before tonight, trust me."

The way she said it made my stomach flip. I grabbed a menu and scanned the specials even though I was too excited to eat. When the server came by, Hannah ordered scrambled eggs and avocado toast. I did the same even though I hated avocado.

After the server left, Hannah leaned in and her face turned serious. "I need to tell you about something tonight. Off the record."

I had to suppress a giggle. Everything about her was off the record. That was the whole reason we had these little secret spy meetings. "Sure, go ahead," I said, trying to keep my face as neutral as possible.

"There's going to be a... surprise event at the party," she said. Her words were slow and careful. "A... contest." She watched me as she spoke, like a tiger circling prey. "It's something of a secret tradition. But if you get chosen for it, you have to participate, or you don't get in. The participants are chosen randomly." She made air quotes as she said the word 'randomly.'

She was about to tell me about some kind of ritual that involved a cross-campus scavenger hunt and vodka shots in our underwear or eating hot dogs until we threw up. I'd been expecting it. But what she said instead nearly knocked me out of the booth.

"It's a blowjob contest. The names of all the potential new members are put onto pieces of paper and put into a bowl and drawn at random." Once again, she used air quotes. "Then they get paired with a guy from Alpha Zeta. And then it's a race to make your guy cum in a Solo cup. As each pair finishes, the contents of the cup are poured into our sorority chalice. The last girl to finish has to drink from it. The Delta Daiquiri."

I knew I'd heard her correctly, but the words still rang hollow in my ears. Now way could she have just said what she said. I stared at her, waiting for her to laugh or say she was kidding, but she just sipped her coffee, green eyes locked on mine.

"It's not that bad," she said. "You'd be surprised how fast most guys finish, honestly."

My stomach rolled over, and not just from the impending taste of avocado in my mouth. I gripped the edge of the table and tried to steady myself and avoid the urge to run to the bathroom and throw up. "How many girls get picked?" I asked.

Hannah suddenly reached across the table and grabbed my hand, startling me. "Elena, it's not random. The contest is rigged."

I nodded quietly and looked down at the table. She hadn't said it yet, but I already knew what she was going to say. Why else would she have been telling me about the contest in advance if the selection of the participants was pre-decided?

"Elena, they picked you."

I tightened the muscles in my legs to try to keep my body from trembling and nodded again like this was all totally normal. When I looked back up, Hannah's eyes were full of sympathy.

"This is it," she said. "You're so close. I've been trying to push the voting for you. Most of the girls really like you, but there are a few holdouts. Brittany is one of them."

The chapter president.

On a scale of 1 to 10 for being an insufferable bitch, if the Davis twins were a 7, Brittany was a 21. I'd gone out of my way to be nice to her and engage with her during the past week, but she pretty much blew me off at every opportunity like I was the trash beneath her Balenciaga sandals.

"Great," I mumbled. In some alternate universe, I was already walking away from the table and texting my mom that sorority life wasn't for me. I went on to have a totally normal, happy, and fulfilling college experience. But in this universe, the one with overpriced lattes and pink envelopes, I continued to sit there, pulse racing, determined to see it through.

Hannah squeezed my hand. "Hey. Look at me. I've got you. You are going to be DB. You make it through this, and there's no way Brittany can keep you out. The rest of the sisters will be clawing to bring you in. There'd be a mutiny. And I'd lead it." Hannah released my hand and took a sip of her coffee. "Brittany and some of the other girls are just a little jealous because you've been turning a lot of heads this week, including their boyfriends. They're threatened by you, but you're too high-caliber of a potential new member for them to let another house get you."

This was enough to warm my chest and lift my spirits. "Ok, I'll be ready for it."

Hannah smiled and reached across to give my hand another squeeze before letting go as our food arrived.

The rest of the day was a blur with me planning my look. I would've liked to have had my roommate's opinion, but I hadn't seen her since the day before. She was probably with her boyfriend. High school sweethearts. Pffft.

Hannah had given me suggestions: sexy, but sophisticated. Nothing see-through, but nothing from the Target juniors' section either. I'd scrolled through Instagram and Pinterest for inspiration and finally settled on a white blouse that showed exactly enough skin at the collarbone, a pink A-line skirt that hugged my hips, and a pair of nude heels that would definitely break my ankles if I even thought about running in them. I tried it all on for a third time, turning slowly in the mirror. Finally, I topped it off with a purse that matched my shoes.

I considered straightening my hair's waves and curls but left it to hang naturally over my shoulders. For my makeup, I went heavier than usual on the foundation and used a dusky rose for eyeshadow that was close to the shade of the invitation envelope. After trying out a few different colors, I settled on clear lip gloss and then practiced my best "I belong here" smile and "I'm not fazed by anything" smirk. I reached for a pair of large hoop earrings then hesitated, wondering how they'd look. I hadn't worn them all week for fear of reinforcing any negative stereotypes of Latinas. Maybe I couldn't hide my brown skin or last name tonight, but I could wear pearl earrings and not roll my r's.

The DB house looked more intimidating than when I'd been here the day before for a formal recruitment interview. Its tall white columns loomed over the sloping lawn. Every light in the house was on full blast as if to ward off the possibility of anyone showing up underdressed or underprepared. My heels clicked loudly over the stone path leading from the street as I made my way up. It felt longer than before, and with each step, I knew I was being watched and evaluated.

As I approached the door, it swung open gently and a DB sister appeared in the doorway. I remembered having seen her several times during the past week but couldn't remember her name. "Hi Elena, we're so glad you came," she said warmly and gestured for me to come in.

I smoothed my skirt at the base of the steps and returned her smile and greeting before walking in. The inside was already crowded, and the noise and music was almost enough to send me running. Laughter and shrieks echoed from the main room just past the front hallway. The smell of perfume, cologne, and alcohol was so thick I could almost reach out and touch it. The front hall was full of people. I recognized a few of the girls as DB sisters and assumed the others were prospective members. Just like during my previous visits to the house, the only color I saw amongst the girls was in the clothes they were wearing. Every member, and even the potential new members, looked so similar it was like they'd come off an assembly line somewhere. The same skin color, the same facial features, and almost the same body type. The only differences were blonde or brunette, or in Brittany's case, redhead. A few had also had a little saline or silicone added post-production.

I hovered by the edge of the foyer, unsure whether I was supposed to introduce myself or just blend in. Instead, I spotted my reflection in a glass cabinet near the stairs and started my 47th self-check: skirt straight? Hair in place? Makeup still good? Everything seemed fine except for my expression. I did my best to channel inner composure, reminding myself that Hannah said I belonged here and most of the members wanted me here.

I drifted down the hallway toward the main room and my gaze drifted around my surroundings. Girls and guys drinking and flirting. There was an actual bar which I had seen on previous visits, but this time it was actually staffed with a bartender. A girl in a lemon-yellow minidress hovered near it, almost seeming to float with her poise and confidence. A pair of leggy blondes stood nearby wearing bored expressions as if this whole spectacle was beneath them. They caught my eye and offered tight smiles which I returned.

That's when I spotted Mary, hanging onto the edge of a circle of girls. She was wearing a peach summer dress with pink flowers and a scooping neckline that showed off practically nothing since her chest was relatively flat. She must've felt my eyes on her because she turned toward me mid-conversation. She smiled in recognition and waved me over. I made my way over to her, grateful to finally have a destination. She greeted me and introduced me to the girls she was talking with, other prospective members. They each sized me up like the competition, which technically I was, but engaged me in conversation. Apparently, anything was better than listening to Mary.

As they spoke, my gaze drifted around the room and back out to the main hallway where it settled on three DB sisters who had taken position at the foot of the grand staircase, sipping from red Solo cups and surveying the room like they owned it. Which, I guess they did.

A round of laughter erupted behind us. A group of guys staggered down the hallway as if they'd been at a pre-party. A couple were cute and all were dressed in golf polos as if they'd shopped at the same store. They carried themselves with the confidence of future congressmen and struck me as Alpha Zetas. I could feel their collective gaze as Hannah's words came rushing into my head, and I silently wondered if one of them would be the guy whose cock I'd have to suck.

I did my best to continue conversation in our small group while casually scanning around for Hannah and trying to keep my nervousness in check. Was I really about to suck cock in front of all these people? And were these people really ready to cheer on such a thing? They seemed so refined and proper... as refined and proper as one could be at a drunken sorority party

As the conversation droned on, a DB sister wandered past our group. She glanced at my skirt and shoes and then back up to my face. "Love your whole look," she said, smiling. "That's like the exact pink we wanted for tonight. And those earrings are gorgeous."

I felt a ridiculous rush of pride. "Thanks, I almost went with something different, but..." I trailed off, not wanting to mention the hoop earrings.

She winked and walked away. A chill settled over the rest of the group I was with. The jealousy, hatred, and envy had developed in a flash.

"I'll be back, I'm going to grab a drink," I said. "Anyone want anything?"

Silence and cold glares.

I nodded and walked away, drifting along the edge of the room, people-watching as I went. Hannah appeared at my side like she'd stepped out of a hidden door in the wall. She was wearing a tight, light-pink dress and a gaudy diamond necklace. Her long blonde hair was so straight it looked like she'd spent ten hours brushing it.

"You made it," she said, casually taking me by the elbow and steering me further along the edge of the room. "How are you holding up?"

I forced a smile. "Good. I'm good. Just, you know... taking it all in."

She looked me up and down. "You look amazing. Everyone's talking about that skirt, by the way."

I felt another swell of pride. "Really? I wasn't sure--"

"Don't second guess yourself. You're practically already in DB. Own it."

There was something reassuring about the certainty in her voice. But it wasn't enough to fully distract me from what loomed ahead. I bit my lower lip and leaned in closer to her. "So... anything I should know before the uhh... festivities start?"

She glanced around then leaned in to me. "They won't announce it for a little while longer after everyone's had a drink or two."

"So... everyone's gonna watch it?"

She shook her head. "No, just active members from DB and guys from Alpha Zeta. No one else allowed. It'll be in the rear lounge." She nodded her head back over her shoulder toward another part of the house. "It's not that big of a room to begin with, so there won't be many people."

I nodded. At least I didn't have to worry about anyone outside the sorority seeing me with my mouth stuffed with cock.

"I'll be right back," Hannah said, stepping away. She was gone just long enough to bring me a drink. It was some kind of pink punch that surely had alcohol. I didn't care. I needed something to calm my nerves. I practically down the cup in one long sip. Hannah patted me on the back.

"It'll be alright," she said.

A sudden burst of laughter erupted from the staircase, and most of the heads in the room turned in that direction as if pulled by gravity. Three of the senior sisters had gathered on the landing, holding fluted glasses. I recognized the redhead in the middle immediately: Brittany, the chapter president. She tapped her French-manicured nails against her glass as if urging for quiet even though the people in the hallway and main room had already quieted down.

"DB, let's bring it in for a group photo before things get... rowdy."

The room obeyed instantly. DB sisters herded toward the staircase like students lining up for a school field trip. Hannah squeezed my arm then went to join them. The photographer, wearing a backwards Alpha Zeta Tau baseball cap, motioned for them to bunch in closer. After the photo, they dispersed, Hannah disappeared, and the party snapped back to life, the music a little louder and the partygoers a little more boisterous.

I went back to people-watching. I caught sight of Mary again, now sandwiched between two potential new members who were chatting past her as if she was invisible. Another group of Alpha Zeta guys showed up. I could smell the cheap aftershave from across the room. One was wearing sunglasses. I silently prayed that none of would be matched up with me.

As if on cue, I heard the ringing of a glass. Brittany and the other girls who'd been with her earlier were back on the stairs. One was holding a plastic bowl. Hannah had joined them. "Welcome to all the potential new members," Brittany called out, her voice slicing through the air. "We're so excited to have you all here tonight. I'm sure you're going to have a great time. And for those of you who receive a bid tomorrow, welcome to the first night of a lifetime of sisterhood." A few cheers went up from among the gathered mass of girls. "Now, before I let you all get back to the party, we need a few... volunteers from among the prospective members."

There was a collective intake of breath like the whole room was bracing for impact. I caught Hannah's eye. She nodded subtly.

Brittany continued. "No need to step forward. We'll take the liberty of volunteering several of you." A few chuckles from the crowd. The girl holding the bowl tipped it slightly toward us, showing that it was filled with small folded slips of paper. Then she held it in front of Brittany. "If I call your name, please join me by the stairs." Brittany made a show of mixing the papers with her hand and then drew one out. "Mary Johnson." Someone snorted loudly.

For her part, Mary raised her hand and offered a gleeful, "Here," and started walking toward the stairs. I pitied her. She had no idea what was coming. But I did. And it made me wonder, was Mary actually on the cusp of getting in?

"Lauren Davis," was called next. When her sister wasn't the third name called, I was left puzzling whether one twin was on the verge of getting in while the other wasn't? Or did the DB girls feel like one of them needed to be taken down a peg before they both got in and flipped a coin to decide which one?

I didn't recognize the next three girls chosen and was starting to think maybe my name wouldn't be called. Maybe Hannah had gotten it wrong. Maybe Brittany had a change of heart and was willing to let me in. Or maybe a mutiny had already taken place and the members had forced Brittany's hand. Or maybe--

"Elena Acosta-Santiago!" Brittany called out, adding an unnecessary Spanish emphasis as she said my name.

Someone nearby let out a loud 'whoop,' but it barely registered in my ears. I almost dropped my purse even though it was on a strap on my shoulder. I walked on legs that felt like jelly and joined the rest of the girls at the foot of the stairs, six in total. The other potential new members nearby eyed us with envy. If they only knew.

"Enjoy yourselves," Brittany announced to the crowd with a flourish of her arms. As the noise picked back up and the party restarted, she descended the stairs and addressed the six of us. "Ladies, you've all been lucky enough to be randomly chosen for a special event tonight. An opportunity that just may put you over the top. We expect you to show your enthusiasm, your energy, and your commitment to DB sisterhood. I know you'll make us proud."

"Oh yeah!" one of the guys nearby shouted and a sister quickly shushed him.

"Follow me," Brittany commanded, and then led us away from the main room and main hall and down a side hallway lined with photos and faded banners. The other girls fell into step behind her. I looked over my shoulder and caught Hannah's eye once more. She gave me a thumbs up that seemed to say, "you got this," and I almost believed her.

We walked single-file, our shoes sounding like a disorganized group of marching troops as the noise of the party became a dull roar in the distance. My pulse pounded and my nerves were so bad, I stumbled twice as we walked. I had a moment of regret at having worn such tall and extravagant heels. But at the same time, I was glad I'd dressed as I had. If you're going to be humiliated, you might as well look good when it happens.

At the end of the hall, Brittany stopped in front of a door that looked like it belonged in an opulent mansion. She glanced back over her shoulder to make sure we were all still in formation, then swung the door open and ushered us inside. The room looked like some kind of exec lounge, plush and overfurnished. Two absolutely enormous couches faced each other across a carpet so soft it swallowed the noise of our footsteps. Brittany gestured for us to sit, her smile as bright as the chandelier overhead. I perched on the edge of the nearest couch, Mary dropping hard next to me and bouncing me slightly.

"Once again, thank you all for joining us," Brittany began, voice syrupy with performance. "You've been randomly selected for tonight's event. It's an honor to be chosen, but it's also a test of your...," she paused, drawing out the suspense "... dedication to the sisterhood." She let that hang in the air, eyes moving from girl to girl like a hawk deciding which of us to eat first.

Hannah and an exec from the staircase entered the room. Mary cleared her throat, the sound barely audible. One of the other prospective members, a junior transfer named Taylor, started fidgeting with her dress hem.

Brittany continued. "You've been chosen to participate in our Fall Alpha-Delta Challenge." She paused briefly as if we knew what that was. "The rules are simple. Each of you will be paired with a member of Alpha Zeta, chosen at random. Your job is to... please your partner. The first potential new member to finish, gets a special gift from the sisters. The last one to finish...." She clicked her teeth.

She paused again, just long enough for what she'd said to start sinking in. Even knowing what I knew, my mind scrambled to find some alternate meaning for 'please your partner' that didn't involve a blowjob contest in the middle of a sorority party.

Brittany leaned forward, her red hair catching the light. "You'll each be given a cup. When your partner finishes, you collect it in the cup and bring it to the scoring table where it gets poured into the Chalice of Champions. The contest continues until every pair finishes. Any questions?"

For a moment, nobody responded. Mary sat frozen, jaw slack, eyes glued to her lap. Two of the other girls whispered to each other, but it was the nervous kind of whisper like they couldn't believe their ears. Lauren flipped her hair as if nothing Brittany said had frazzled her.

Taylor's hand shot up, which I admired because my arms felt like lead. "You mentioned finishing last. What happens if you're the pair that finishes last?"

Brittany smiled the smile of a wolf and turned to Hannah and the other exec. The exec spoke. "You drink the Delta Daiquiri from the Chalice of Champions."

We all nervously shifted. This time, even Lauren looked shaken.

Brittany scanned our faces, making sure everyone understood. "You'll be expected to be enthusiastic. Alpha Zeta takes this challenge seriously, and so do we. You have no idea what those guys go through to be one of the ones chosen." Brittany folded her arms. "If any of you are uncomfortable, you can back out now. But know that it may affect your standing with the rest of the sororities and the university."

Mary finally spoke, voice wobbling. "Our standing?"

Brittany nodded. "It goes without saying, you'd be out of the running to get into DB. And sororities talk. Greek life is a small world. We respect courage, and we respect discretion. She paused for effect. "And so does the school president."

The unspoken threat within Brittany's words was as clear as crystal: if you drop out of this contest or tell anyone outside the sorority about it, DB would make sure you didn't get into any other sorority and would ensure that your university life was ruined.

A heavy silence fell. No one moved or objected to participating. The time to get out from beneath the thumb of DB had passed before we even showed up this evening. We belonged to them. Even if we didn't get in, they would have us in their talons forever.

Brittany clapped her hands. "Alright then. Have a drink, hang out here. We'll be back in five minutes." Without another word, she, Hannah, and the other exec left the room. Another sister wheeled in a bar cart as they left the room. We all raced toward it and downed the shots of vodka lined up on top. Then we all scattered around the room, pretending to inspect the portraits lining the walls. But the nervous energy was heavy. I risked a glance at Mary. Her hands were trembling and clasped so hard her knuckles shone white. I wanted to say something reassuring, but my tongue was thick with anxiety.

This was stupid. I trusted Hannah, but could I trust Brittany? What if she still didn't let me into DB when this was all over? What if I went through with this humiliation and it was all for nothing? Maybe it wasn't too late to get out. I could walk out. On Monday, I could withdraw from school, transfer, and start a new school for the spring semester.

But this was my chance at a better life. A better future. I wanted more out of life than I'd had growing up. I deserved more out of life. I'd always been limited simply based on where I was born and the family I was born into. And I'd always be limited. A college degree wouldn't change that. There would always be doors I couldn't open. This was my chance to change that.

A clatter of approaching voices came down the hallway: a clash of female voices mixed with voices that were deep, boisterous, and unmistakably masculine. A mass of DB girls and, presumably, Alpha Zeta guys poured into the room filling the space around us. Brittany stepped into the room, followed by two girls who carried in a fold-up table and three more girls who brought in chairs. They sat up the table on one side of the room and put the chairs behind it. Another girl pushed in a cart stacked with red Solo cups, napkins, paper towels, bottled water, and a spoon. Two senior girls I recognized sat at the table. Another girl walked in holding a bejeweled chalice over her head like the Super Bowl trophy, and the girls in the room erupted in cheers as she sat it on the table. Yet another girl carrying a shot glass of what I assumed was alcohol poured it into the chalice followed by another girl who poured in what looked like the alcoholic pink punch I'd been drinking earlier.

Brittany stepped into the center of the room. Shouting to be heard, she said, "And now, the moment you've been waiting for!"

The guys in the room broke into a fraternity chant and capped it off with loud hoots and hollering. Brittany quieted them down enough to repeat the names of each of us girls that had been "randomly" chosen for the contest. There were snickers again when Mary's name was read. When my name was called out, I could feel the eyes of the guys looking me over like a piece of meat in a steakhouse.

After our names were announced, a tall well-built guy with a sharp jawline and too much hair gel stepped over to Brittany and gave her a peck on the cheek and put his arm around her waist. He pulled out his phone and read off a series of names of guys and paired them with us.

Mary was paired with an Alpha Zeta named Trevor. He was built like a linebacker and moved with the calm, slow movements of a guy who'd never doubted he belonged anywhere. He flexed his arms, prompting scattered whoops from his frat brothers. His pants did little to hide what Mary was up against; he had a bulge that was cartoonishly visible as if he had a towel stuffed in his pants. Mary, whose face had gone from white to transparent, stood so shakily I thought she'd collapse. Trevor caught her elbow, steadying her, and said something to her I couldn't hear over the noise.

Lauren was matched with a guy named Chase who sported a blonde fauxhawk and gold chain and the shit-eating grin of a guy who knew his entire semester had just peaked. The pair exchanged greetings and handshakes before moving to sit together.

Brittany continued through the pairings, with each couple greeting each other like they were business partners about to sign a contract. I ended up paired with a cute slim guy named Jason with dark eyes that zipped quickly back and forth around the room. He was wearing a tight Henley that would've fit better if he'd been a bit broader across the shoulders. He greeted me with a strong handshake and a smooth smile like he knew how absurd the whole thing was.

"Hey," he whispered as we took our seats. "For the record, I'm as freaked out as you are."

I didn't think that could be possible, so I just nodded. "Same."

Brittany clapped her hands, calling for quiet. "Thank you everyone. The challenge will begin in two minutes. No cheating. No clothing comes off until we start."

The room broke into a light murmur of noise. One of the guys in the crowd offered a joke about the participants stretching and warming up. I tried to focus on my breathing to steady my nerves, counting each inhale and exhale.

Next to me, Jason shifted on the couch. "You ever done anything like this before?"

I tried to force a laugh. "A blowjob in front of a live studio audience? No never."

He grinned and then looked down at his hands which were fidgeting in his lap. "For what it's worth, you seem like you're taking it way better than the rest."

"I fake it," I said. "It's a specialty of mine," I added quietly.

Jason gave me a look like he understood me more than he was letting on and nodded. After a long pause, he asked, "So, how do you want to do this? Should I stand or stay seated or..."

I hadn't given it much thought. Two couples had moved down to the floor, but we were still kind of packed in on the couches. The last thing I wanted was to end up with a cramp in my neck from trying to avoid bumping into anyone while this was going on. It probably made the most sense for Jason to remain sitting while I got on my knees. But I didn't want to ruin my skirt on the floor.

"Umm... maybe you could stand while I sit?" I offered. I never pictured my college experience would involve me discussing blowjob positions with a stranger in front of a room full of strangers.

Jason nodded and got to his feet. He put his hands in his pockets and tried to look casual.

Across the room, Mary was practically recoiling from Trevor. Her hands couldn't keep still, and she wouldn't look directly at him. I caught her eye for a split second, and she looked at me with a kind of wild desperation like she wanted me to figure out a way to get us out of this. For all her try-hard efforts to impress the DB girls over the past week, she'd finally hit her limit.

Two DB girls passed around red Solo cups to each of us. I held mine away from my body and stared down at it like it might bite my hand any second. When I looked up, I saw Brittany staring at me from across the room while talking to a pair of DB sisters. I wondered if she could sense my fear.

On the other couch, Mary was kneeling on the floor in front of Trevor. Her breathing was so quick and shallow I worried she'd hyperventilate. I wanted to tell her she could run, and that nothing mattered enough to suffer through this. But I didn't even believe those words. We couldn't run. And getting into DB was most definitely worth a little shame.

"Thirty seconds," Brittany called.

I nearly jumped when Jason leaned forward and reached for my hand. His palm was sweaty and warm. He gave it a light squeeze then let go. It was real. This was really about to happen.

I ran my tongue over my teeth and tried to picture myself anywhere else--the main library in the middle of campus, scaling Mount Everest, drifting through the empty expanse of outer space. Anywhere but here. But I was here. Here in my "I'm-just-like-you" blouse, skirt, and pearl earrings about to suck off a frat boy for the privilege of being invited to join a group of girls who were nothing like me.

I didn't notice people counting down until they got to seven. But then the whole room was counting down. I closed my eyes and exhaled, letting the last of my dignity slide away. When I opened them, the room appeared in high definition, every face focused on what we were about to do.

When they reached zero, Brittany shouted for us to begin.

For a second, there was silence. The music and noise from down the hall, the laughter and chatter in this room, all collapsed into nothing. Every eye felt like it zoomed in on us. But I barely cared. My brain had gone into survival mode, narrowing my senses to the immediate space around me.

Jason reached for the button on his slacks, fumbling for a second before he got it undone and lowered the zipper. He hooked his thumbs into the waist and lowered his pants and underwear all at once. His dick popped into view, smooth and hard.

Next to me, Lauren was already hard at work making deep-throated slurping noises. Behind Jason, Mary was fumbling with Trevor's pants like she'd forgotten how fingers worked.

"Go, Elena!" someone shouted from the crowd. I recognized Hannah's voice. It gave me a small boost of courage, and I scooted to the edge of the couch, leaned forward, and went to work.

The first taste was salty with a faint touch of sweet like a potato chip dipped in Gatorade. I wrapped my lips around the head and sucked, rolling my tongue along the bottom of the shaft.

"Oh fuck..." Jason said and put his hands on my hair. His dick jumped in my mouth, but not in a way that suggested I'd be finishing anytime soon.

I bobbed my head on him and put my hand around the base of his shaft and gave it a gentle squeeze. The saliva that was building in my mouth slipped past my lips as I parted them slightly. I smeared it into Jason's smooth, hot skin and stroked him in time with my mouth.

As I settled into a rhythm, I dared a glance to Lauren, my nearest competition. She hadn't wasted a moment and it almost seemed like she was showboating for the crowd with her exaggerated motions. She looked like a blowjob machine the way her head pistoned up and down on him. I could see her jaw muscles clenching as she took him completely down her throat, much to his audible enjoyment.

In the other direction, one of the girls was doing her best to giggle her way through the ordeal, but her partner's expression was one of panic instead of pleasure. Another girl looked like she was about to throw up, gagging audibly and wiping her mouth every few seconds while her partner made obscene gestures to his snickering brothers. But she was at least doing better than Mary.

Mary was a total disaster. Trevor's cock was as huge as the bulge in his pants had suggested. Her trembling hands could barely wrap around it. She kept starting and stopping, barely able to stretch her lips around him, each time glancing around at the crowd with a look of despair. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

I couldn't see the last girl from my location and position, but I didn't look around too hard because I didn't want to make eye contact with anyone in the crowd. They were laser-focused on us. Aside from a few hoots, shouts of encouragement, or wisecracks, for an audience watching a blowjob contest, they were surprisingly quiet as if they were mentally trying to record everything they were seeing.

I tried to ignore them and refocused on what was in front of me. A bead of pre-cum spread across my tongue, and I fought the urge to spit it out and reminded myself that this was my ticket. And if I didn't do this right, I'd end up swallowing a lot worse. I bobbed my head faster while tightening my lips on Jason's cock. His grip on my hair had tightened, and I probably couldn't have gotten free if I tried. I flattened my tongue beneath his shaft and pushed his head against the roof of my mouth which made his body shudder, and for a moment, I thought he was about to cum, but he held on.

A sudden cheer went up from the crowd, and I glanced over to see Lauren wipe her mouth and get to her feet, holding her Solo cup in the air. The girls at the scoring table erupted in applause, and Laruen strutted over, placed her cup on the table, and curtsied. The scorers poured the contents into the chalice and gave it a stir with the spoon from the cart.

I redoubled my efforts, feeling an ache in my jaw. Jason started panting and subtly rocking his hips. His eyes were shut tight and his face muscles strained with the effort of someone looking like they were trying to avoid cumming instead of letting it happen.

What the fuck?

Across the way, the girl that had started her blowjob with the giggle fits let out a silly pornstar moan. That was enough to push her partner over the edge. She stuck out her tongue but held the cup far away from her in front of her partner. He stroked several spurts into the cup accompanied by a loud groan and more cheers from the crowd. Moments later, another cheer followed and I spotted the girl I was unable to see earlier. She carried her cup to the scoring table and handed it off like it was filled with acid.

And just like that, we were down to three--well, two. I needed to be one of the next two to finish or I'd have to drink the Delta Daiquiri. The girl who'd been gagging earlier was still sucking but paused briefly when her partner pulled out of her mouth. My heart sank because I thought he was about to cum. Instead, he merely sawed his wet cock back and forth across her face, much to the amusement of his onlooking brothers, and then reinserted himself.

Mary had tears running down her cheeks as she did her best to choke down the massive cock in front of her. Trevor was gently stroking her hair like he actually felt sorry for her.

I turned my attention back to Jason. Why was he taking so long to cum? I could feel the tension in his body. Not an amateur to sucking dick, I knew he was close, but he was holding out. Every flick of my tongue along his shaft or caress of his head with my lips made him shudder, but he stayed strong. He was sweating now with his face red and cheeks puffing out.

"Oh shit!" a guy shouted. I turned to see that it was giggle-girl's partner. She held her cup for him as he stroked into it. "Natural born cocksucker," he groaned when he finished. His friends laughed and high-fived each other. The girl looked mortified but had enough to composure to keep her cup steady and carry it to the scoring table where it was poured into the chalice.

I was going to lose. I was really going to lose. This asshole was holding out on purpose!

I turned back to Jason and glared up at him. He offered a half-smile and wiped sweat from his forehead. Across the room, Mary was nursing Trevor's fat cock like an ice cream cone.

I let out an angry huff and swept the hair back from my face and neck. I opened my mouth and sank it back onto Jason. When his hands went back to my head, I put my own hands on his hips and pulled him forward then pushed him back. I was urging him to mouthfuck me, but he tried to keep his body relatively still.

I couldn't lose this. There was no way I could drink the Delta Daiquiri. The thought alone was making my stomach roll.

After only a moment of hesitation, I let go of Jason's hips and grabbed the tail of my blouse. I shut my eyes and braced for the verbal onslaught as I lifted my blouse up to my neck. My tits were encased in my bra, but it didn't matter. My flash of skin sent the room into a frenzy and it erupted into shouts, whoops, and whistles. I formed a mental image of the chalice on the scoring table to distract myself from the catcalls and lewd comments that poured into my direction and returned to sucking Jason off. My display apparently had its intended effect because I felt his entire body go rigid. Hoping to catch him off guard, I sank my mouth as deep onto him as I could manage. I gagged a couple times but managed to avoid throwing up. After holding in place for several seconds, I withdrew slightly and then pushed forward several more times, tapping his tip with my tonsils. This was enough to spur Jason on. Clutching my hair tightly in his fists, he rocked his hips back then forward as he began fucking my mouth. I had to brace his stomach with my hand to keep him from going too deep.

I wanted to crawl out of my skin and slink away into the night. I'd never been so humiliated in my life. Drool was running out of my mouth and dripping onto my blouse and the exposed top half of my breasts. All around me, guys and girls were shouting. If I had known before the party that this is how I'd end up, I'm not sure I would've gone through with it.

But things were about to go from bad to worse.

Jason was using my mouth like a sex toy, jerking my head back and forth while he fucked his cock into my mouth. He was moaning with an increasing volume that told me there was no way he'd be able to hold on much longer. I reached for my cup and got it ready to collect his contribution.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" he shouted and let out a loud groan.

He abruptly pulled away from my mouth and grabbed his cock. I brought the cup up, but before I had a chance to get it into position, he pointed his cock directly at my face and let go. His cum hit me in a hot, sticky arc, spattering across my lips, chin, and the collar of my blouse. I was too stunned to react and took a second shot that went across my forehead and into my hair.

The crowd went absolutely wild. Someone shouted "Facial!"

The rest of his cum came out in smaller spurts over the top half of my breasts and on my beautiful pink skirt. I was too mortified to move and sat there in disbelief and horror as cum dripped down my face and chest.

When my brain and body finally reconnected, my first instinct was to wipe it away. But as I ran my fingers through the warm liquid, my hands were shaking so badly that I only managed to smear it across my face. I was about to use my blouse to clean it when I remembered the paper towels and napkins on the cart.

After shoving Jason to get out of the way, I forced myself to stand, head held high, and walked across the room trying to act like being covered in cum in front of a room full of people was no big deal. People were laughing and pointing, but there were also a few cheers mixed in. I sat my cup down on the scoring table and reached for the roll of paper towels on the cart and proceeded to do my best to wipe myself off.

I noticed Brittany watching me with a menacing grin as I cleaned myself. She nudged the sister to her right and they both snickered. I wanted to melt through the floor and never be seen again. Instead, I pulled my blouse back down over my sticky tits, summoned every ounce of courage, put on a big smile, and squared my shoulders. All eyes were on me.

Except for Mary's.

She was still on her knees with her eyes closed and tears rolling down her face. Trevor had apparently taken mercy on her and given up on her making him cum. He was gripping his shaft and pumping it while Mary kept her lips wrapped around the tip.

I truly pitied her. Since the first day we came to the DB house in our recruitment group, she'd been doing everything under the sun to try to get these girls to accept her. She tried to talk like them, dress like them, and act like them. And now here she was force-feeding a dick into her mouth that was as big as her face and about to drink the Delta Daiquiri. And all for nothing. There was no way they were letting her in.

I wanted to walk over and give her a hug at least. But instead, I stood in place and watched as the rest of the eyes in the room fully turned from me to her while Trevor continued to stroke himself off into her mouth.

"Ok... oh yeah, here we go," he said. I'd never seen a guy so disinterested in a blowjob.

Mary immediately pulled her head away and held the cup up for him. He fired a thin jet into the cup and the rest dribbled over his hand. There were a few light cheers and some scattered applause, but I think everyone was just glad to be done watching that trainwreck of a blowjob. Mary got to her feet and carried her cup to the scoring table with her shoulders hunched. Brittany whispered something to the other sisters at the table and then offered Mary a phony half-smile. Brittany picked up the cup and emptied its meager contents into the chalice and then sat it with the other empty cups.

Brittany and the sisters huddled their heads together and peered around the room at us while pointing at our discarded cups as well as the chalice. There was a brief moment of laughter among them as one of the sisters pointed in Mary's direction. Poor Mary looked absolutely broken up over what was coming.

Brittany rose from her seat and gestured for quiet among the crowd which had grown restless. "What an exciting competition. Ladies, please join me."

We all made our to the front of the scoring table. Once again, I felt every eye in the room trained on me. I prayed that I had completely cleaned off my face and hair. Mary walked over to the group like she had lead shoes. As bad as I felt for her, it was better her than me.

"May we have a round of applause for our competitors," Brittany shouted. The room erupted in cheers and claps like we had just won the campus inter-sorority softball game instead of sucking dicks. "In first place... Lauren!" As the crowd broke out into more cheers and applause, Brittany turned to the cart next to the scoring table and retrieved a box. She sat it on the scoring table and opened it. She pulled out a gold-plated crown with writing on the front and walked it over to Lauren. "You earned it. Congratulations on a truly impressive finish." Brittany sat the crown atop Lauren's head who smiled and took a bow. Now that it was closer, I could see that the words on the front were 'Throat G. O. A. T." and there was a small goat above the words. I stared at it in a moment of confusion until I put the acronym together--greatest of all time.

Ha. Ha.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

Brittany folded her hands in front of herself and her face took on an exaggerated look of sympathy. "And ladies and gentleman, in last place... by an... ahem... significant margin: Mary." There were some jeers and laughter from the crowd. "And you know what that means."

The crowd started chanting, "Drink! Drink! Drink!"

Mary's eyes were full of tears again and she looked on the verge of passing out. Brittany turned to the scoring table and picked up the chalice. The crowd roared as she lifted it over her head. Mary eyed it like a sacrificial dagger that Brittany was about to plunge into Mary's chest.

Just before Brittany passed Mary the chalice, one of the sisters emerged from the crowd and said something to the scoring sister sitting on the right side of the table. The standing sister pointed at the cups and the motioned for the second sister at the table to come closer. The three of them spoke in hurried conversation before the standing sister ran up behind Brittany and tapped her on the shoulder. She said something in Brittany's ear which caused a smirk to spread across her face. Brittany returned to the table where all four sisters began talking amongst themselves. After several moments, Brittany returned.

After again gesturing for quiet, Brittany spoke. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've just been informed that we have a disqualification." This drew looks and voices of confusion from the crowd as well as us competitors. "The rules specifically state that each competitor's cup is poured into the chalice after they have finished servicing their partner."

My blood went ice cold.

Brittany continued. "A competitor's cup can only be poured into the chalice, if they collect something in their cup. Therefore--"

My entire body locked up.

"--Elena is in last place by way of disqualification!"

I don't know what the crowd's reaction to Brittany's news was. For the next several moments, my vision went dark and I couldn't hear anything. I was lost somewhere beyond the edge of reality. When my vision started to return, Brittany was standing in front of me with the chalice and grinning at me like a jack-o-lantern. I still couldn't hear the crowd and everything beyond Brittany was out of focus.

I moved my lips to speak but couldn't tell at first whether my words were audible. "But--but, that's not fair! He--"

"Rules are rules," Brittany cut in, smirking.

I stared down into the chalice at the pink-white liquid inside. It was a punishment designed by people who'd never really had to face troubles and consequences in their lives. People who could invent cruelties like this out of sheer boredom and subject other people to them.

A sound like muted thunder built behind my eardrums. An ominous sound. It grew in intensity until my brain was finally able to make it out. The crowd was chanting. "Delta Daiquiri! Delta Daiquiri! Delta Daiquiri!" The sound built until I could feel it through my skin. Even the crowd itself was closing in on me. Cruel smiles. Pumping fists. Brittany was pushing the chalice toward me, her eyes full of malice. The sort of malice that said they'd hold me down and pour the cum cocktail down my throat if need be.

I turned. And I ran.

As hard as I could and with all my strength, I pushed through the crowd. Stunned and laughing faces blurred past. A hand reached out for me, but I shrugged it off and kept going and didn't stop until I found myself at the edge of the street at the end of the stone path leading from the DB house. Only then did I stop and take a moment to catch my breath.

I was in complete disbelief. It was all crashing down around me. There was no way I was drinking cum out of that chalice. The very thought had me almost bent over at the waist trying to stave off the overwhelming sense of nausea in my stomach.

Fucking Jason. All he had to do was cum in a cup. Was it really that hard? Now, not only would I not get into DB, they'd probably hound me into transferring to another school.

The tears that had been building were about to burst through when I heard shuffling feet on the stone path behind me. It was Hannah. She'd come to tell me that drinking a glass full of strangers' cum was no big deal and that I should do it so I could get into DB. At least, that's what I assumed. But those weren't the words that came out.

"That was pretty wild huh?" she said, nodding her head back toward the house. She clasped her hands in front of her as if searching for the right words. "So... I'm supposed to be out here telling you that 'officially,' Brittany and the board are deciding what to do with you since you ran out."

My ears perked up. "Officially?"

Hannah nodded. "They can't have anyone just walk away from the Challenge. So, I'm supposed to be here calming you down. Then I bring you back inside, let you go upstairs and clear your head for awhile, and then come back downstairs drink the Delta Daiquiri in front of a handful of the exec board."

"I'm not drinking--"

"I know, I know. That's just what I'm supposed to be doing."

"I don't understand," I said.

"If you chose to walk away altogether right now, no one would hold it against you. No reprisals. You could join any sorority you want."

"Walk away? You'd let me go?"

"Yes, if that's what you decided. But we'd be sorry to see you go. You made quite an impression in there tonight," Hannah said.

Heat started rising in my cheeks as my mind flashed back to getting fucked in the mouth and then splattered with cum. I had to lock my knees to keep from running and jumping into the bushes along the street.

"Elena, you're DB through and through," Hannah continued. "I said it before, and I'll say it again: you are getting into this sorority. And... we can get you in without you having to drink the Delta Daiquiri."

This was the best news I'd heard all night. "Really? How?"

Hannah glanced back toward the house as though someone might be eavesdropping. She ushered me along the sidewalk in front of the house and tipped her head to the side and her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Well... like I said, you made quite an impression. You won yourself a huge fan within Alpha Zeta. Incidentally, one of our exec board sisters owes this particular brother a huge favor. If you'd be willing to repay that favor... the Delta Daiquiri would be forgotten."

My brain was moving too fast to fully process what Hannah was suggesting. "You mean, you want me to--"

"Fuck him. Yes." Her matter-of-fact tone almost knocked me over.

My brain whirled. It was a way out. Or rather, it was a way in. A way back into DB. All it would cost me was another layer of dignity. "Why me?" I asked.

Hannah shrugged and walked toward me. She swept the hair back from my shoulder. "I guess he has a thing for... you."

I was able to read between the lines. My secret admirer apparently had a thing for Latinas.

I ran the options through my head: drink from the chalice or go have sorority sex upstairs. I guess I had a third option of walking away as Hannah offered. It wasn't really much of a choice. There was no way in hell I could drink that stuff. And I wanted to be in DB almost more than I wanted to live. I was so close. I couldn't just walk away.

"Ok, I'll do it." I said with a sigh, resigning myself to my fate.

She smiled a huge smile and clapped her hands. "Come on."

She grabbed my hand and led me back into the house. I expected all eyes to be on me, but when we entered, the party was rolling along as if a blowjob contest hadn't taken place in the back lounge of the house just a short time ago. Hannah led me to the staircase and up to the second landing. She steered me down the hall past several closed doors. Each step felt heavier, as if I were sinking into the floor with the weight of what loomed ahead.

She stopped us in front of a door and opened it, revealing a sparsely furnished bedroom. Bright, overhead lighting shined down on a queen-size bed covered in a purple bedspread that sat against the far wall. A nightstand with a small lamp sat next to it. The air was heavy with the scent of laundry detergent, hotel soap, and bleach that made my nose wrinkle. Hannah tugged on my arm and pulled me inside and clicked the door shut behind us. She let go of my hand and leaned her back against the door as if to block any chance of escape if I suddenly had second thoughts.

I stood there, my body still wired with leftover humiliation from downstairs. Hannah didn't say anything at first. She watched me, her arms crossed and her face impossible to read. I was about to speak to try to break the tension when she moved away from the door and crossed the room. She stopped next to the bed and motioned me over. I wiped my damp palms on my skirt and walked over on unsteady legs. When I reached her, she looked me up and down and smiled.

"It's going to be alright," she said.

How was this going to be 'alright'? She always fucking said that. It must've been easy for her to say since she wasn't the one giving public blowjobs or being asked to fulfill a sorority sister's sex debt. It wasn't alright. None of this was alright.

She reached for the bottom of my blouse and started lifting it. I moved my hands to block her, but she shook off my hands. "I know this is... just trust me."

I clenched my teeth and tried to still my body and allowed her to peel my blouse up and off my body. She grabbed for my skirt next and lowered it off my body. I moved my hands to cover my body even though I was still in my bra and panties.

She pointed at the bed. "Sit," she said softly.

I took a deep breath and lowered myself onto the bed. The bedspread was cold against my skin. Hannah leaned over and opened the nightstand drawer and drew out a long strip of black silk. She held it up and met my eyes.

"Not everyone in DB knows about this... arrangement. It'll be a lot easier to swear you to secrecy if you don't know who the Alpha Zeta guy is."

Was she serious?

I started to ask that very question, but her eyes already told me she was.

I nodded at her. My breath caught as she lifted the blindfold, her fingers brushing my hair behind my ears. The silk was soft, almost weightless, but the darkness it brought with it was immediate and absolute. She pulled the ends tight and knotted it behind my head.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this?" she whispered in my ear.

It was way too late to back out now. And back out to what? No, I had to see this through, dignity be damned. "Yes, I'm ready," I responded.

She stroked my hair and then I heard her move away and then open the door. The noise from the raucous party downstairs drifted into the room. Her voice began speaking to someone, but it was too low for me to make out. The door shut. Silence. I tried to listen for the guy, but there was no one and nothing. Nothing other than the thundering sound of my heartbeat and rapid breathing.

But then--the door opened again and closed. A soft swish of clothing. Footsteps. A pause. Another step.

I sat rigid on the bed holding my breath, my hands digging into the bedspread, every sense on full alert.

A weight pressed the mattress down beside me, and I flinched. There was a long silence and then a voice. "Just relax." It was deep and had the faintest drawl. His hand touched my knee, careful but not hesitant. I resisted the instinct to pull away. His palm was rough with strong fingers. He trailed them up my thigh and stopped just short of my hip and then slid them back down. His other hand slid up my back to the clasp of my bra. I started to tremble as if my body sensed I was making a huge mistake. My bra came undone with an expert flick of the unknown guy's fingers.

How many bras had he taken off in his life?

I didn't have time to ponder it because he was already pulling it off my chest. He took in a sharp breath as my naked breasts were exposed. It took all of my willpower not to cover myself. He gave each one a soft squeeze and then moved his hand to my shoulder. He gave it a tug, and I bit down on my tongue and allowed him to ease me down onto the bed. He swung my legs up onto it and then knelt over me. His fingers touched the waistband of my panties and my own fingers grabbed a handful of the bedspread. He only paused for a moment before slowly sliding them down. I raised my hips to allow him to slide them down my legs, over my ankles, past the high heels I was still wearing, and then off. I was completely naked between head and toe.

He shifted, and I heard the rustling of clothing. He shifted again, nudging his body between my legs, parting my knees with his own. I held my breath and waited for him to say something. A word of comfort or a command, but he was silent. When he entered me, it was sudden A sharp stretch and an instant of pain that dissolved almost as quickly as it had arrived. He thankfully wasn't huge, but he wasn't tiny either. I gasped, and he paused, apparently giving my body a chance to catch up. As he held himself in place, his hand wandered up to my breast. He squeezed it softly and then ran his thumb over my nipple and rolled it until it started to ache. He let go and moved his hands so that he was bracing himself above me and began to move.

His thrusts were slow at first but gradually picked up speed. My body surprisingly started to come alive, and I felt myself getting wet around him. I kept my arms pinned to the mattress and began doing math in my head, figuring that maybe I could take my mind away from this and when it came back, it would all be over. But after a series of quick thrusts, he reached for my left wrist and put my hand on his shoulder then did the same with my right. His skin was hot and smooth. Beads of moisture slid beneath my thumbs as I passed them over his collarbone.

His thrusts became more intense, slamming me into the bed which groaned and squeaked beneath us. It was a constant and audible reminder, as if I needed one, that I was giving myself up to a total stranger. And all to impress a group of girls so they'd let me join their little club. But it wasn't the most degrading thing I'd ever done. It wasn't as bad as letting my boyfriend's friends palm my tits in his living room while he fucked me over the back of a couch and called me a whore. By comparison, this wasn't so bad at all.

As if agreeing with that rationalization, my body continued to respond and arched to meet the thrusts of my anonymous partner. And I had to admit, not being able to see him was giving me a bit of a thrill. Who was he? Was he cute? Was he a Senator's son?

As the questions rolled through my mind, he pinned his hips against me and then pulled out. I felt him shifting on the bed and then his hand brushed between my legs, two fingers circling my clit. "God... you're so wet," he whispered. He sounded a little different than before. More clipped, less of a drawl and more of a midwestern accent I hadn't noticed before. He leaned in and ran his tongue along the curve of my ear, sending shivers up my spine. His breath was warm and he let out a long, satisfied exhale as he pressed himself back inside me.

He pounded into me, deeper this time and with a different angle that buzzed my clit. It wasn't long before I was panting and grinding back into him. I slid my hands onto his shoulders which flexed differently than before given the slight change in his body's positioning.

I didn't have long to enjoy it before he pulled out again. He moved on the bed and then reached for my hips, turning and lifting me so that I was on all fours. He took a moment to squeeze my ass cheeks and then ran a finger along my wet lips. After another moment, he guided himself back into me with a solid thrust that knocked me off balance. His hands latched onto my hips with a firm grip and kept me upright. He started slow, as if enjoying the feel of this new position. His hands shifted beneath my body to my hanging tits and squeezed them. I couldn't stifle the moans that escaped my lips as his palms grazed across my nipples.

Before long, his thrusts became shorter and quicker. Each rock forward was accompanied by the slap of his skin against mine. He shifted his hands to my hips and pulled me backwards to meet each one, leaving my breasts to wobble and shake beneath me. The bed frame rattled with our movements. A knot of pleasure was growing in my stomach and he was hammering me toward it. Just a little bit more and I'd be there. I twisted the bedspread in my fists as my moans grew louder.

But then he abruptly stopped and pulled out again. Fuck.

I assumed he was finally cumming, and I thought I heard a wet, smacking sound like he was stroking himself off, but then his hands were on me again, turning and rolling me onto my back again and spreading my legs wide. His hands roamed my body, slower now, massaging my thighs, my stomach, my breasts, as if memorizing every inch of me. There was almost a feeling of tenderness in his touch. He guided himself back into my pussy and lowered himself onto me, pressing his chest against my tits. His lips brushed my cheek and then my mouth. I couldn't resist kissing him back. His tongue tasted like cinnamon and cheap vodka. For the first time, I could smell him over the scent of bleach in the air. His shampoo, smooth and cool. His aftershave or cologne, rocky and rough.

He groaned through our kiss and then lifted himself off my body, leaving my skin feeling cold. The mattress sagged in a different direction as he moved around again. There was a long pause and I started to wonder what he was doing until I felt his hands on my arms pulling me up. His grip was less gentle, and his hands felt bigger and stronger. He pushed and pulled me and spun me around so that I was straddling his lap while he sat on the edge of the bed. He guided me down, impaling me in one movement. His hands gripped my waist hard and moved me up and down, bouncing me on his cock.

His ability to change so swiftly from tender lover to animalistic fuckmaster was jarring, but my body didn't mind. The growing flame in my belly had become a full-blown inferno. I was drenching him. All I wanted to do was cum on his cock.

He shifted his hands from my waist to my ass and dug his fingertips into the flesh. The pressure was enough to make me squirm and cry out quietly. When I did, something in my brain hit a hitch--these didn't feel like the same hands on my ass from before.

But that was absurd. Of course they were the same hands. They were the same hands because it was the same guy. Wasn't it?

Yes.

The extended time with the blindfold on was finally making my mind play tricks on me. My adrenaline was flowing and so was my pussy. I'd been through a wild evening. Any of these things could explain my brain's belief that these hands belonged to a different guy.

But the more I thought about it, the more 'off' his cock felt too: the length, the thickness, the angle. And then he spoke.

"Yeah, that's it. Ride it." His voice was a full octave lower than when he'd spoken earlier, and it didn't have a drawl or an accent.

What the fuck was going on?

I slowed my riding and reached for my blindfold. But before I got to it, a set of hands, soft with long nails, wrapped around my stomach from behind. They slid up my ribcage and onto my breasts and began caressing them and then moved to gently pinch my nipples, making me cry out. A mouth latched onto the side of my neck and sucked my skin while long hair brushed across my shoulder.

"Ahh... shit...," I hissed. Colors spilled into the darkness behind the blindfold. My mind desperately tried to process what was happening while my body teetered on the edge of a cliff. Had my original partner really swapped places with another guy? Was a girl kissing my neck and fondling my tits? Was I about to cum?

The answer to one question came quickly.

I'd slowed but hadn't fully stopped riding the guy beneath me, and now I was back to fully bouncing on him. My ass clapped against his thighs while an unfamiliar growl built in my chest. It didn't sound like me at all. But it was most definitely me. I'd lost it. I'd given myself over to whoever I was fucking and I was loving every second of it. I tipped my chin to the ceiling and cried out in a long wail. The mouth on my neck shifted along my cheek and closed over my own mouth. It was definitely a girl.

I grimaced as she slipped her tongue into my mouth, tasting like the pink sorority party punch from downstairs. I tried to pull away from her kiss, but my body was completely focused on cumming. The guy beneath me moved his hands back to my waist and lifted me up and down his cock as wave after orgasmic wave crashed against me. The hands stayed glued to my breasts, squeezing and groping them and sending electric shocks to my core with every caress of my nipples. My body rocked and shook as the colors behind my eyes burst like fireworks against the nighttime sky. I screamed into the girl's mouth, wild and raw like I was being fucked to death.

Then, without warning, the guy lifted me up and off his lap. The hands on my chest and the kiss broke away as I was flipped aside onto the bed. I thought I heard a loud gasp from somewhere across the room, but I was too far gone to make any sense of it. My breath came in short desperate gulps while my body shuddered with aftershocks. It was over. In a blissful explosion, this strange encounter had come to an end.

But then the guy was back between my legs again, lifting them up against his shoulders and leaning against me and folding them back toward the bed. He pushed back into my pussy and immediately began hammering me into the bed. The frame knocked against the wall with each stroke. My hands drifted up along his body to his shoulders where they found hair.

Hair. When this had started, the guy fucking me had most definitely not had hair on his shoulders.

They were switching! They were taking turns with me!

An almost overwhelming sense of sickness washed over me. I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't form any words. The man fucking me must've assumed my open mouth was a sign of pleasure and leaned down and ran his tongue over my lips. His breath smelled like beer. My body wouldn't respond to my efforts to push him off or remove the blindfold.

It all started to make sense: the position changes, the different rhythms, the varying strength and pressure of the hands. But where had they come from and when? We'd been in the room alone.

My mental replay was interrupted as the guy on top of me groaned and his strokes became erratic. He suddenly sat up and withdrew. Almost immediately, hot sticky jets of cum splashed across my pussy lips and stomach.

"Oh! Fuck yeah!" the guy shouted as he continued to milk himself across my body, sending one streak that reached the bottom of my breasts. Even as I lay there taking my second cum bath of the evening, I couldn't get my body to move. And so, I laid there until he finished and the weight of his body shifted across the mattress. There was a strange sound across the room that sounded almost like a muffled, high-pitched laugh.

I continued to lay there as the seconds passed. If I stayed still and kept the blindfold on, maybe I could convince myself that none of this was real. Maybe it had all been a hallucination. Maybe someone had slipped something into my drink earlier. Maybe the contest downstairs hadn't even been real.

But my current condition told a different story. The cooling liquid across the front of my body. The faint echo of an explosive orgasm. The sting along my waist and ass cheeks where I'd been gripped too hard. The dull ache between my legs.

I lifted my body and reached up, hands shaking so badly I almost missed the knot, and slid the blindfold over my head.

The world came back in the bright, harsh blur of the overhead lighting. I blinked my burning eyes and tried to get my bearings. The first thing I saw was a man's bare chest, sweaty and heaving, looming next to the bed. He was blond with a stubble beard. He grinned at me as he bent over to pick up his shirt.

To his left, another guy. He was tall and well-built with a sharp jawline and a mop of dark damp hair that was supported by too much hair gel. He was tucking a polo shirt into jeans that were still unsnapped. He caught my eye and winked and gave me a two-finger salute. He looked familiar.

At the foot of the bed, a third man was sitting with his back turned. His shoulders bounced with a motion that suggested he was laughing quietly to himself. He paused, stretched, and glanced over his shoulder as if getting one last look at me to store in his mental hard drive. He didn't say anything. Just smirked and got to his feet and began to cross the room. My eyes followed him and my body dry heaved at the sight of a small crowd beyond him: three guys, each looking smug, sweaty, and... satisfied; and six or seven girls. One had her hands pressed to her mouth, stifling giggles. Another was holding up her phone, clearly recording what was happening. I recognized Brittany among the group and an exec that had been sitting with her at the scoring table during the blowjob contest. And among the group--Hannah. Her face was fixed in an expression that resembled a horrible mix of contempt, satisfaction, and amusement. There wasn't an ounce of remorse. Not even a hint that she understood what she'd done. Just the smirk of a girl pleased at having pulled off the best prank of her college career. She licked her lips and blew me a silent kiss.

My stomach lurched. I grabbed the bedspread beneath me and yanked it to cover myself. It was damp with sweat and bodily fluid and felt gross against my skin. Apparently, the guys had been pulling out and cumming anywhere they could just before the next guy moved in to replace him. I coughed and fought back the urge to vomit. I needed to get out.

As I rolled to the edge of the bed and began looking for my clothes, the blond guy spoke, breaking the silence. "She's a fucking keeper for sure. Five out of five stars on Yelp."

The DB girls laughed, a demonic melody that almost sounded rehearsed.

The dark-haired guy next to me spoke next. "I've never had Mexican before. I gotta say, me likey."

More laughter. The girl with the phone took a step closer to the bed, keeping it aimed at me as if waiting for me to offer a memorable quote. I was speechless. All I could think to do was get out.

I bent down, keeping the bedspread pressed to my body with one hand and picked up my blouse and skirt with the other. My panties and bra were nowhere in sight and I didn't dare take the time fumbling around looking for them. They'd no doubt become trophies in the Alpha Zeta house.

I hugged the bedspread and my clothes to my chest and scurried to the door. Gawking, grinning faces blurred past. More laughter. A crude remark from one of the guys.

"Dude, did you see the way she clamped down at the end? Fucking legendary."

A girl at the door stepped aside as I approached and threw it open. The party crashed against my senses. I couldn't go back down there, not like I was. Instead, I turned away from the direction of the staircase and shuffled down the hall, my high heels wobbling and threatening to topple me over. I had no idea where I was going. I passed several closed doors until coming across one that was partially open. I pushed it open, hoping to find temporary refuge inside, but the room was already occupied. A girl was on her back with a naked guy between her legs. The muscles in his back and legs rippled every time he drove himself into her.

I reared back and slammed the door shut. I continued down the hallway, my vision becoming blurry with the tears that I'd been holding back seemingly all evening. A smaller door appeared ahead of me at the corner of the hallway. When I yanked it open, I saw that it was a closet. There were several boxes stacked up and nothing else. I threw myself in next to them and pulled the door shut behind me. The shrieking cry I let out would've probably been heard through the whole house if the party hadn't been going on. The tears poured forth like a faucet.

How could I have been so stupid?

The details spun through my mind like an out of control carousel: the changing hands, the shifting voices, the different angles and textures. They'd taken turns. I'd been blindfolded and then passed around while my so-called future sisters cheered it on. I'd wanted to belong so badly that I'd let this happen. I'd been so desperate to fit in, that I'd ignored every alarm bell in my head from the day Hannah mentioned the blowjob contest at the diner. And still, I'd forged ahead. And now I was just another notch on the wall of Alpha Zeta conquests and a joke to DB that they'd tell for years to come.

I pulled the bedspread tight around myself, shivering and wondering if I'd ever be able to look at myself in the mirror again.

I don't know how long I stayed cocooned in the closet. Minutes. Hours. An entire semester. Time lost all meaning.

At some point, I heard girls' voices outside in the hallway. They grew louder as they approached. "Maybe in here." The closet door swung open and light flooded my vision. A DB girl was standing over me peering down. "Found her," she said to unseen people beyond the doorway. Hannah's face appeared next to her.

"Oh my God, Elena!" Her face was peppered with what looked like genuine concern. She stooped down next to me. "Are you ok? We've been looking everywhere for you." Other DB girls appeared behind her.

I wanted to tell her to fuck off. But instead, I pulled the bedspread tighter around me as if it was a suit of armor that might protect me from any further indignities from her or the rest of the sorority.

She turned to the girl next to her. "It's alright, I've got it." The other girl gave me a long look and then walked away with the rest of the group. After they were gone, Hannah sighed and spoke. "Are you ok?" she asked again.

I shook my head. How could I possibly be ok?

She frowned and reached for my face, making me flinch. She tucked a lock of hair behind my ear in a gentle, almost protective gesture. "You did really well, you know? They all said you were the best they'd ever had. You should be proud."

Proud.

The word echoed in my ears.

Proud of what? Proud of lying on my back and taking one anonymous dick after another like I worked in a whorehouse?

Hannah reached out and patted my leg through the bedspread, making me flinch again. "You should take a shower. And you can hang out in my room while we wash your clothes. I can get you something else to wear in the meantime."

Her words were meaningless to me. "I just want to go home," I managed to say.

She nodded, pity crossing her face for the first time. "Ok, get dressed. I'll drive you." She partially closed the door. I could see her through the crack, standing by it like a military guard.

I threw off the bedspread, my muscles crying out as I moved. When I'd put my blouse and skirt back on, I nudged the door open. Hannah reached for my hand.

"Don't touch me," I snapped, pulling my arm away. I wanted to say something more, anything to make her feel even a fraction of what I was feeling. But no coherent thoughts would form in my head.

She pursed her lips and turned and led me down the hallway back to the staircase. I cringed as I prepared to meet the faces of everyone at the party. By now, word about my upstairs spectacle would've made its way through the whole house. Combined with my performance at the blowjob contest, I probably had the infamy of a porn star.

At the top of the stairs, I gazed down to see the party rolling along just as before. People drinking, laughing, and dancing. Two girls passed by arguing over a playlist. No one noticed me, or if they did, they looked right through me, as if I'd always been a part of the house.

I forced my legs to move. Each step down was like wading through syrup. At the bottom, a pair of potential new members strolled past, barely looking up at me as they passed a vape pen between themselves. I followed Hannah out the front door and she led us to her car. I wasn't surprised to see that it was an Audi. She revved it up as I got in and started driving across campus.

For several moments, there was only the hum of her car's engine. But then she finally spoke. "Elena," she said, her voice gentle.

I ignored her and turned my head to the window and watched the streetlights and occasional blue-light emergency callbox pass by.

"Elena, this is what it takes, sometimes," she said carefully. When I didn't respond, she spoke again. "You'll understand, eventually. They're never going to forget you after tonight. You're a DB superstar, girl. And don't worry about the video. That's just a little something for the vault."

Her words were lost on me initially. It was like my brain was a few seconds behind my ears and couldn't process what she'd said. I turned to look at her.

She spoke again as if reading my mind. "You're going to run this house one day."

I stared at her long and hard. There was no trace of the smirk from earlier. Her face was fixed with solemn pride. She turned toward me and gave me a genuine smile.

"Brittany's still not entirely thrilled with you. But she kinda lost face and the last shred of her veto power when her boyfriend insisted on joining in. It also didn't help that he had to practically throw you off to keep from cumming in you and ended up shooting about a gallon of cum on the carpet. The look on her face was priceless." Hannah let out a laugh. "You're a great kisser by the way."

I wanted to die.

Hannah steered the car to a stop in the rear parking lot of my dorm. I leaned over and opened the door handle.

"After the bids tomorrow, we'll bring you all back over to the house. Dash of pink again, ok?"

I nodded silently and got out. As I was about to shut the door, a thought crossed my mind. "Will... uhh... Mary be there?

Hannah scrunched up her face. "Mary? No way. We knew she wasn't DB material from the moment she set foot in the house."

I pictured Mary's face, red and blotchy, her whole body folding in on itself as she desperately tried to suck off a guy with a horse cock.

I pushed the door shut. Hannah gave me a wave and then pulled off, leaving me with my head spinning.

I'd done it. I'd really done it. After all that had happened, I'd gotten into Delta Beta Omicron. But at what cost? My dignity: gone. My pride: shattered. My soul: degraded. And if that wasn't bad enough, those girls thought I was just like them. The kind of girl who would subject another girl to the horrors I'd endured this evening. They'd set me up from the beginning. Jason cumming all over me wasn't an accident. They'd told him to do it just so they could all have a laugh about it. But then they got the idea to disqualify me and make me drink the chalice cum too. And then when I wouldn't, Hannah and the rest of the exec board set me up to get group fucked. And why? Because Brittany didn't like me? Because a few of the girls were jealous of me and wanted to humiliate me before they let me join? And they'd done worse to Mary. She wasn't even getting in. They'd publicly disgraced her just for the fun of it.

These were truly horrible people. But what was I going to do about it? Not join? Then everything I'd gone through would be for nothing. But I wasn't like them. And I'd never be like them. And what they'd done to me could never be undone.

The only thing that could be done was to take them down a peg like they'd done to us. Some way. Somehow. Either from within, or without, I was going to make it my business to destroy them. I was going to destroy those bitches. Because if there was one thing I hadn't learned growing up, it was forgiveness. I did my best to fake it. But when I was wronged, I paid it back no matter what it took. No matter how long it took.

One day, they were going to pay.