Becoming Sisters Ch. 02

As a math major, I am used to thinking logically, concentrating long and hard on abstract, abstruse concepts, and following long chains of reasoning. But after a while, once I reported for pledge duty at the sorority house, I found it more and more difficult to think clearly. We were always chanting something or doing something repetitive or running ourselves ragged fulfilling the sisters’ various whims. And always the petty punishments over trumped-up “offenses” like looking a sister in the eye, or failing to compliment a sister, or for not cleaning something thoroughly or not saluting the Alpha seal with a curtsy.

The sisters kept a tally of all our offenses in a night, and at some utterly random time, the five of us would be ushered into a basement room to be spanked. We never saw which of the sisters did the spanking, because she’d always be wearing a veil, or sometimes a creepy Asiatic mask. And we would never see the people who were laughing in the shadows in a little loft up above, where spectators could sit and watch. They seemed to be masked as well, because every time I caught a glimpse of them their features would seem horrifically distorted. While our pledge sisters stood by, we would be called forward one by one and bend over the sister in the veil’s knees. The sister would lift up our skirt and sometimes she would even pull down our panties — that seemed to be at the spanker’s discretion. Some sisters like to hit hard, others like to sort of tickle you and make you squirm, some varied hard and soft blows. Sometimes they used a paddle, sometimes a bare hand. It didn’t always hurt, but it was always embarrassing, and my face would usually be as red as my behind would be when they were done. I tried not to cry from it, but sometimes a blow would extract an involuntary groan from me.

Sometimes when I was being beaten I would start to count how many times my bare bottom was struck and try to place it in a Fibonacci sequence to predict when she would stop hitting me. Or I would deduce what the next prime number would be, or I’d try to relate it to the counts I’d kept for my sisters and how many times they had been hit. I’d try anything to take my mind of the humiliation, which was strangely exciting, which in turn only made me more ashamed. I hated the whimpers and squeals I made, yet when I heard my pledge sisters make them, it made me feel hot and turned on, and I knew they were feeling the same about me, that my being beaten was at some level exciting them, and that thought, too, excited and humiliated me. As I was being beaten, and I couldn’t discipline my mind with numbers I would find it drifting into fantasies of one of my sisters, usually Paige or Eva, holding me, nurturing me, tending to my sore bottom with soft caresses. I would dream of them even kissing my bright red cheeks with ruby-red lips and leaving little kiss prints there. I never had thoughts like that ordinarily; I didn’t think of girls that way at all, usually. It was absurd, but it made me feel better and help keep me from crying too much.

In some ways getting spanked was the easy part. You would be at the center of attention, sure, but you didn’t have to do anything. All the work was done for you, and you just needed to deal with the attention, which you eventually begin to enjoy in a strange way. It was the one moment — apart from those private moments with my pledge sisters — when I knew I was doing what I was supposed to, when I wasn’t on tenterhooks afraid of making mistakes. We were told repeatedly that we should yearn for punishment, because it meant we were being made into better Alphas, that we were being brought closer to the ideal. I’m not sure what the idea was supposed to be, despite all the repetition of the creeds and all the training and all that. I just thought of Pauline, who had come to seem like a god to me, so beautiful and articulate and perfect and graceful. After a few weeks of pledging I felt almost retarded in her presence. I knew that everything I was going through was worth it if I were to become more like her.

It was much harder to watch my pledge sisters being punished. It made me want to watch out for them more, and it even had me taking the blame for things I knew they had done. Watching Eva’s ass turn all red from a thrashing was hard to bear, because she tended to whimper and cry, which would start my eyes tearing as well. Monica would start bawling sometimes like a little baby, full on sobs, and this made me extremely uncomfortable. But worst was Paige, whose quiet demeanor seemed to bring out the sadism in whoever was doing the punishing.

Sometimes I swore I heard male laughter, but it was hard to tell, and I could have easily hallucinated it. All kinds of crazy ideas would be flowing through my addled brain. That was another thing, I was so sensitive to everything during that period. I would break out in tears over nothing at all, at the sight of a dead fly in a lampshade. And I would feel the deepest and warmest gratitude over the slightest sign of friendliness from one of the sisters. Pauline, who was assigned to be my “big sister”, part güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri mentor and part governess really, could make me beam with joy just by telling me my hair looked nice. That was because most of the time she was criticizing me mercilessly, comparing me to the other pledges and pointing out how worthless I was compared to them, and how she couldn’t believe they tolerated the sight of me. I knew it was a psychological game at first, but it was surprising how soon it began to sink in and how glad I was that my pledge sisters didn’t hate me.

The first time this happened, Pauline called Eva and I into her bedroom one night after we had finished polishing the silver — it hadn’t been used, it was just make-work — and sweeping the kitchen. Pauline closed the door behind us and sat on her bed while we stood there side-by-side, waiting to find out what she wanted. “Okay,” she said. “You girls aren’t so bad looking, even after you’ve worked up a lather. Show me your tits.”

Eva and I looked at each other uncomfortably. “Come on,” Pauline said flatly, “Pull up your shirts, I want to see your tits. Eva was a fairly conservative girl. She was coy, almost bashful, and she tended to wear loose-fitting clothes that concealed her figure. I don’t think she liked being in the spotlight at all; she seemed to assiduously avoid garnering attention. She was from somewhere in Texas, and her parents belonged to one of those megachurches down there and were really active with it. I often heard her talk about how she missed her church, herself, and how she had no recourse to pray alone, which made her feel lonely sometimes. Sometimes she hoped we would pray with her. I wondered if she was praying now, with Pauline glaring down on us, asking us to expose ourselves, to reveal our private flesh.

Eva blushed and then lifted the T-shirt she was wearing to show her bra, a yellowed, lacy thing that looked like it had been washed too many times. It seemed like it was too small for her too, since the flesh of her breasts seemed to be busting out. I lifted my shirt too and pulled it over my head and took it off.

“That’s right, just take the shirts off,” Pauline said, “and the bras too. I want to see your tits, not your questionable taste in lingerie, understand?”

We did as we were told; Eva slipped her arm through a strap and unhooked her bra and her breasts positively spilled out, jiggling in her hands as she dropped the bra to the floor. I felt a little inadequate with my modest boobs, but most of all I felt embarrassed at having to show myself to Pauline like this in front of Eva.

“That’s better,” Pauline said. Looking at Eva, she said, “Those things are out of control. You’re going to be a fat sagging cow if you ever have kids. Or have you already had them? Only way tits get that big is from a little rug rat sucking on them. Or maybe not. Maybe you’ve been sucking on them. I bet you can. Show me.” Eva’s blush deepened even further.

“Don’t just stand there with that stupid look on your face, cunt, do it! Show me and your pledge sister how you suck your big fat titties. I know you do it.” Eva stood there, frozen, but her nipples had become noticeably erect as Pauline commanded her. Mine were getting hard too, but maybe because it was a bit chilly in her room.

“Are you going to show us, or would you prefer showing all the sisters how you do it before we spank you? Come on, now. Enough stubbornness. I can see how excited this makes you, you little slut, so why don’t you just do what you know you’re dying to do?”

Eva timidly leaned her head down, and with her hand she pushed one of her enormous melons to her mouth. It never would have occurred to me to think of boobs as melons, not really, until I saw hers. I could see her trembling. Eva extended her tongue as far as it would go as she held up her sumptuous breast, but it didn’t reach her hardened nipple, so she was forced to strain, stretching her tongue as far as it could go. She lapped awkwardly at her nipple, shivering all the while. “Oh, that’s hot,” Pauline said ironically, and then there was a flash and the clicking-lens sound of a digital camera. “That will look beautiful on the website.” Eva gasped and stopped licking. It looked like a tear was rolling down her face. “Don’t stop, slut,” Pauline said coolly. I need to get a few more shots of that. We wouldn’t want to disappoint the brothers of Theta Phi, would we? Do it!”

At this point I was starting to question the whole joining-a-sorority thing. I wished Paige were here for a moment, because her presence would reassure me that I really did want to be here, that I really did want this. But a look at Pauline reminded me too, just seeing how in control she was, how beautiful and cold. Her eyes had something sparkling in them, something keen and intelligent that spoke of mastery and command. Her posture, straight but not stiff, was perfectly elegant. Wherever she was, you could tell she was never ruffled, and I knew that what I was undergoing now was the same thing that had made Pauline the paragon she was.

Eva güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri lifted her ample breasts again with her hands and bent her head down and brought her long tongue out again. After a moment I could see the tops of her breasts glistening with saliva, especially when the flash of Pauline’s camera went off. Eva was starting to sob a bit, even as she was trying to lick her nipples, which were now little plugs covered with wetness. God her tits were massive, and my were so small in comparison. What would it be like to do that, suck on your own nipples?

“Hey, boobless. Don’t just stand there,” Pauline commanded, looking at me. “Help her out.” At first I didn’t understand what she meant. Did she want me to push on Eva’s head, to give her further reach? “I can see how hot this is making you. I can see you squirming. I can see how hard your nipples are,” she continued. “You’re looking at those big tits and thinking I want some of that, aren’t you. Well, go ahead. Get some.”

I stood there frozen. I was shaking a bit too. Pauline took a picture of me, and it blinded my eyes for a moment. “What are you, stupid?” Pauline said. “Suck on her tit. Show her how much you care about her. Show her how much you trust her. Suck that big juicy tit until the milk comes squirting out.”

I wondered if this was turning Pauline on. With her hair pulled back and her tight form-fitting blouse and skirt, she seemed like some kind of drill sergeant issuing her orders, but there was an edge of glee to her voice, something beyond coldness that was maniacal. She was peering at the camera, framing shots of us as I edged closer to Eva, who was blubbering now like a baby in her humiliation. She couldn’t even look at me as I moved into position to take her heaving breast into my mouth.

I could only see Pauline’s stockings, the kind that made her legs look like they were covered with spider webs and her black knee-high boots before I turned to start working on Eva’s tit as I was instructed. I didn’t know quite what to do, so I did what I thought would feel good to me. I whispered that everything was okay to Eva and then I started to tease her hard nipple with quick darting moves of my tongue. I heard the camera click but to be honest I liked the way Eva tasted, her skin. I liked the smell of her, faintly perfumey, faintly musky like her pussy must be, a good clean smell. I knew the photos were to guarantee our loyalty to the sorority and I trusted they would never really be made public. And I cared for Eva, and I wanted her to stop crying.

“It’s okay, Eva,” I said, and I gave her nipple another quick tease. “I’ll make you feel good. That’s all that matters. Okay?” I was trying not to let my shame get to me, reach the forefront of my consciousness. I tried not to see myself with Pauline’s eyes, no matter what she was saying or how many pictures she took. She continued to sniffle. She had stopped licking herself and now her head lolled back to make it easier for me to kiss and caress her. I found it very exciting to feel the heaviness of her breasts, to make the mound of flesh redistribute itself as I squeezed and probed with my fingers. I puckered my lips on her nipple and began to suck.

I didn’t think I’d feel anything in particular, but it felt surprisingly sensual, almost overwhelming, to be this close to her physically after how close emotionally I had come to feel with her. But I seemed to feel on my own bare breasts what I was doing to hers, every lick and sick I made on her big boobs I felt in mine, and I could almost feel as if mine were like her big hangers, so big that everyone in a room had to notice them the minute I walked in, so big I had no choice but to follow my own chest around.

I was started to get really wet and wished I could go run off somewhere to play with myself. I thought about just going with that feeling, losing myself in the little act Pauline was having us do, thinking it might make me seemed that more committed to the sorority if I could take that sort of initiative. And I was getting horny as hell sucking on Eva’s nipples. her crying had slowly changed into moaning as I continued to work on her and reassure her with little whispered compliments about how beautiful she was, and natural it seemed that I should be showing her that this way. All the while Pauline took photos.

In fact I had sort of lost track of Pauline at some point, so involved in Eva’s breasts I became. I wondered, for her sake, if I could make her come just by playing with her boobs, thinking maybe it would start a chain reaction in me and I would finally get some release for myself as well.

It just felt nice, comforting almost, to be with a girl who was in many ways just like me, but was also like a fantasy me, a me who was pneumatic and alluring and soft. I kissed her the way I wanted to be kissed and I pretended that I was her, getting this wonderful attention.

Then Pauline stopped taking photos for a minute. I heard her walk away for a moment, and at that point I asked Eva, “Should I stop?”

“No,” güvenilir bahis şirketleri she gasped. “I don’t mind. It feels so good, Adele, but I feel so strange. I’m not this kind of girl. I never let a girl do what you’re doing to me. It doesn’t seem right, but it feels so good. It’s not dirty and unnatural like I thought it would be.”

“It’s just something between friends,” I said. “That’s all. You’re so beautiful, Eva. I wish I was a beautiful as you.”

“No, Adele,” she said. “You’re so much prettier than me. Your eyes, they’re so clear, so bright. I can lose myself in them.” And as she looked at me, my fingers massaging her nipples and holding her heavy breasts, I could see what she was talking about. She was dreamy, half smiling and she gazed into my eyes. I wished she would touch me, touch my breasts, let me feel her warmth on my body.

Pauline returned and she was holding something in her hand, but I couldn’t figure out what it was at first. It looked like a long black banana or something, only it was attached to a thick leather belt. “One of you is going to have to suck on this,” Pauline said, holding the black banana up, and then I realized, of course, that it was some kind of strap-on dildo. “Hey, no tits, you already look like a boy, why don’t you complete the package,” she said to me. Her voice was nearly unrecognizable; she sounded nothing like what she sounded like when she was in big-sister mode giving me advice or helping me with studying.

The thing was complicated, and Pauline had to strap it on me. Slightly numbed, and in a kind of dreamy slow motion, I moved my arms and legs, followed her instructions, stepped through loops and fastened belts and so on, all while the air seemed like gauze and Eva, naked from the waist up, stared at the floor, her chest heaving slightly, her nipples, moist with saliva, glistening in the light. Below her neck her skin was flushed, and her cheeks were full of roses as well.

Time passed with Pauline handling me, guiding me, and the next thing I knew I looked down and I had a penis. There it was, stiff protruding from between my hips, a black rubber missile about seven inches long that bobbed and bounced with every move I made. It was so strange. At first I was afraid to touch it; it seemed preternatural and so foreign. But I couldn’t keep myself from gyrating at the waist to make it quiver and shake. I sort of waddled over toward Eva, and even she smiled a bit, at the crazy sight I must have been, with my top off and my breasts showing and this big cock attached to me.

I have to admit, I had wondered at times what it would be like to have a penis, dreamed about it even as I was using my fingers on myself. I tried to imagine what it would feel like as it got hard, as it filled up with blood and came alive after being dormant. This strap-on thingy wasn’t quite as sensual as I imagined a cock would be, but it was something; I felt a weird sense of power as I approached Eva, and I still felt it as I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently down to her knees.

As I held Eva’s shoulders and guided her waiting mouth toward the rubber phallus, I was shocked by how wet and turned on I was. I realized that it didn’t even matter at all that the thing was a inanimate object with no nerve endings, not really connected to my body at all. Wearing it still gave me an electric thrill of power, and power, I realized, was what this was all about, and just being able to command that intoxicating thrill, and use the rubber cock as a kind of sexual lightning rod to channel and focus all the erotic charge that had built up between Eva and I made me almost delirious with lust and hunger for her.

And then Eva took it into her mouth. “Oh yeah, suck it baby,” Pauline said. It expressed perfectly what I felt. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were sealed around the cock in a little oval. Her lips were shiny, with saliva or lip gloss, I couldn’t tell, but it looked sexy sliding over that black shaft. Flashes went off, as Pauline kept talking photos. I kept my hands on Eva’s shoulders, kept guiding her forward, closer to me. She began to make slurping sounds, which mixed in with gagging, choking sounds. At times I thought her moaning from deep in her throat.

As this went on, I could have sworn that cock was my own, that I was feeling it as Eva licked and sucked it. Maybe I just wished it were so with such intensity. It felt so amazing to have her on her knees in front of me. “Suck it, girl,” I heard myself saying, or was it Pauline? “That’s right. Suck it.” I wanted to know suddenly if Eva’s pussy was wet, as wet as mine was, whether she could take my seven inches inside her, what that would feel like, what it would feel like to really give it to her.

“This is so hot,” Pauline said, still photographing us. “You’re real lezzie sluts, you two.” And I knew she was right. I wanted to stick my black rubber cock in Eva’s hole so bad, I had to admit it. Eva was still sucking away, her big breasts heaving when she paused to catch her breath. I took the cock away from her mouth and began jerking it with my hand, and pushing it, trying to make its base rub up against my clit, which by this point was aching to be toyed with. “Take your pants off,” I whispered to Eva as I fingered the fake cock. “Please.” She looked at me confusedly, still flushed and panting. “I want to fuck you with this,” I said more loudly.