The previous year: In the bowels of the dark, uninhabited woods near Compton College
The two young women shivered in the cold, their nearly naked bodies goose- pimpled under the silvery moonlight as they faced their trio of persecutors.
“Put your clothes in a pile,” commanded the leader, a gorgeous blonde. The cold was no problem for her, as her shapely body was wrapped warmly in a lavender fur- lined parka—a lovely compliment to her black leather boots and stylish tartan skirt.
The sorority pledges dropped their humble garments. Second hand tennis shoes, thrift store jeans, flannel shirts and jackets, everything they’d been wearing, save the skimpy bras and panties they were being allowed to retain.
That and the leather dog collars, which never left their bodies, especially not when they were being punished and fucked by rooms full of frat boys.
The blonde sorority president turned up her nose in disgust at the mass of discarded items. “Burn them,” she told the brunette to her left, a stately gray-eyed beauty wearing a matching coat. “They stink.”
The pledges hung their heads in shame. It wasn’t their fault they hadn’t been allowed to shower in a week, or that several of the Triple Alpha boys had decided it would be funny to urinate on the girls as they lay helplessly chained on the floor of the basement this morning. Denied the chance to clean themselves afterwards, they’d been forced to attend classes exactly as they were, disgusting piss sluts.
“You two know why we brought you out here?” the blonde wanted to know.
The girls looked at each other, panic in their eyes.
“Please, pledge mistress,” one of them begged as the brunette doused their clothes in lighter fluid and tossed on a match. “We’ll try harder.”
The girl, a large-breasted redhead, realized her mistake too late.
The blonde had already nodded to the third sorority sister, a green-eyed girl with silky black hair tied back in a blue ribbon. Raising her gloved hand, she slashed the whip she held in gloved hands across the redhead’s exposed belly. The horsewhip left a large angry wound, red and hot. Falling to her knees in the dirt, the naked, moaning pledge sought redemption. “Forgive me, mistress,” she cried, her head pressed to the ground at their feet. “I’m sorry…please, I’m sorry for speaking without permission.”
“Whipping position,” the blonde ordered, opting to show no mercy.
Without rising, the girl reached behind and unclasped her bra. Pulling it forward over her shoulders as best she could with her face still in the dirt, she bared the entirety of her back. Still without rising, she quickly slid her hands down to pull the panties over her arse and down the back of her legs.
The girl with the whip struck savagely. The redhead put her palms to the ground, making no attempt to protect herself. She was already richly scarred; the number of criss-crossed lacerations on her flesh being just one small piece of evidence as to how poorly she’d performed as a pledge. A former party girl and a heavy drinker used to having her own way with boys, the lusty redhead been slow to adapt to her new status
The dark-haired girl, comfy and warm in her thick gray coat, took her time, finding her targets at will. Deeper and deeper groans escaped the redhead’s throat. The tears in her eyes mingled with the dirt on her face and on her lips and in her mouth created an amusing little mixture of mud, not to mention a perfectly delicious portrait of degradation. Just because it pleased her to do so, the blonde put the heel of her expensive boot down on the pledge’s collared neck. All was as it should be. The girl was made for abuse; her arse and breasts and pussy, her flanks and lovely arms and legs were all sorority property—so long as they found her worthy of their sadistic artistry.
“Fours,” said the blonde at last, when her sorority sister had grown tired of swinging the horsewhip.
Beaten and bruised as she was, the well-trained redhead followed the command with the promptness of a punished dog, raising herself onto hands and knees. Triple Omega pledging was all about conditioning and training. That and humiliation—complete and utter degradation of the highest order.
“You two are the worst pledges I’ve ever seen,” pronounced the blonde, just as she did for the benefit of every girl they’d ever brought out here. “You don’t even deserve to lick our boots.”
The one still standing, a thin and statuesque chestnut-haired cutie was the daughter of a pharmacist, with generous blue eyes, a sweet temperament and an arse that had been opened to obtain even the largest of cocks. One look from the mistress was enough to make her shrink in fear. She would much rather be kneeling or groveling, of this the blonde was certain.
“Look at me,” commanded the blonde.
The girl trembled from head to foot, withering under the mistress’ gaze. There was confusion there, and fear, the emotions dancing over her gaunt, fire-lit face.
How had it gotten this far? the girl was asking with her eyes. Such an innocent start, just like with all the other pledges; a game, a dare or challenge to belong to the best, the cream of the crop, and before they know it they are taking off their clothes in the woods, half past midnight in forty degrees.
Shivering uncontrollably, this particular pledge looked haggard to say the least. She had deep circles under her eyes and chattering teeth. It had been a rough go, what with her full load of classes and her cleaning responsibilities, not to mention the service hours, spreading her legs for the sports teams and of course the hours spent in the cage, that dreaded hole.
“Give me one reason not to drop your worthless asses from the program,” she demanded.
© Copyright Michael Berkowitz www.michaelberkowitz.com