GODLESS PLEASURES

Chapter 9: Sorority Sins

Everyone wanted to get into Lambda Tau Zeta. Not because it had the best parties. Not because it had the prettiest girls. Because it had the most powerful ones. Rumors circled campus like wildfire: that pledges had to strip blindfolded, that the president slept with her favorites, that once you crossed the sorority’s threshold, you never walked out the same again. Avery didn’t care about the whispers. She wanted in. She didn’t know what she’d have to do. She didn’t know what she’d become. But she wanted in so badly. And tonight was initiation night. The other pledges sat cross-legged in sheer white slips, blindfolded, trembling in the candlelit basement. Eleven of them. All nameless. All silent. Avery wasn’t trembling. Her body burned with anticipation. They’d taken her phone. Her clothes. Her name. She was just “Pledge 6” now obedient, anonymous, waiting. A deep bass thumped from hidden speakers, matching the rhythm of her heartbeat. Sweat beaded at the nape of her neck as incense filled her lungs. The air felt holy. And wicked. Then the door creaked open. Footsteps slow, high-heeled, confident clicked across the hardwood floor like a countdown. “Strip,” a voice commanded. It wasn’t just any voice. It was her voice. Delilah. Avery didn’t hesitate. She peeled her slip down, letting it slide over her hips, her thighs, until it puddled at her feet. Cool air kissed her bare skin. She stood straight, eyes blindfolded, head high. Whispers rose from the circle around her. She’s bold. She’s too eager. She might be the one. Delilah had entered. She didn’t rule Lambda Tau Zeta. She was Lambda Tau Zeta. A senior. A legend. Jet-black hair. Razor cheekbones. Eyes sharp enough to slice. Lips made for sin. Even blindfolded, Avery could feel the weight of her presence like a stormfront. And then Delilah was right in front of her. A manicured finger lifted Avery’s chin. “Tell me, Pledge 6,” Delilah purred. “Do you trust your sisters?” “Yes,” Avery said, voice firm. “Even when they touch you in ways you’re not used to?” A pause. “Yes.” Delilah’s chuckle purred through her. “Good girl.” Hands soft, manicured, teasing glided over Avery’s body. Two. No, three girls. Or more? Fingertips traced her breasts, cupped her curves, skimmed the slick heat between her thighs. She moaned, soft and involuntary. One of the sisters kissed down her spine, wet lips grazing every vertebra. Another slid a hand between her thighs from behind. A third stroked her n*ppl*s with feather-light brushes that made her gasp. Her knees trembled. “Don’t hold it in, sweetheart,” Delilah said. “That’s not what tonight is for.” Then came the blindfold's removal. Avery blinked, eyes adjusting to the flickering candlelight. And locked eyes with Delilah. Delilah stepped forward, dressed in crimson lace lingerie and thigh-high leather boots. Her body was a temple of temptation, her gaze unwavering. She held a gold collar in her hand. “Every year, I choose one pledge,” she said. “One girl who understands what it means to obey. To surrender. To crave.” Avery’s breath hitched. Delilah moved like silk over flame. “This year…” She reached forward, clipped the collar around Avery’s neck, locking it with a soft metallic click. “It’s you.” A ripple of tension spread through the room. Some sisters looked jealous. Others were aroused. A few bowed their heads in reverence. Avery didn’t know what to feel fear, pleasure, or pride. Maybe all three. Her knees gave out. She fell, instinctively, before Delilah. Head lowered. Breathing heavy. Delilah stroked a fistful of her hair. “You’re mine tonight.” The others were dismissed. Avery, collared, dripping, was led upstairs through the candlelit halls, past paintings of past presidents and forgotten sinners. Delilah’s suite was at the top of the house. Private. Forbidden. Rumored to be soundproof. Inside, the air was laced with rose and leather. A red light bathed everything in sin. “Crawl,” Delilah ordered. Avery obeyed. “Lick,” she whispered, lifting one thigh. Avery hesitated only a moment before diving in. She’d never done this before. But something primal kicked in. She licked slowly, cautiously, then deeper, letting Delilah guide her, responding to every breath, every moan. Delilah gripped her hair tighter, grinding into her mouth. “Yes. Like that. You learn so fast.” Avery felt owned. Wanted. Claimed. She worshiped her. Until Delilah cried out and collapsed onto the bed, pulling Avery up into her lap. “Now it’s your turn,” Delilah whispered. She flipped Avery onto her back. Slid two fingers deep inside her. Avery arched, gasping, as Delilah worked her like an instrument pressing, teasing, circling her cl*t with calculated cruelty. “I want to hear you scream, baby.” She did. Once. Then again. Then again. Delilah didn’t stop. She whispered into her ear. She kissed her throat. She told her how beautiful she looked when she came. Avery forgot her name. Forgot where she was. She was just need and sensation and surrender. Delilah pulled her against her chest, stroked her hair, let her breathe. “You passed,” she whispered. The next morning. Avery woke up on Delilah’s chest, collar still around her neck. Sunlight crept through the red curtains. Delilah’s fingers played lazily with her hair. “What happens now?” Avery asked, voice hoarse. Delilah smiled and kissed her forehead. “Now? You belong to us.” But that wasn’t the end. That was only the beginning. Avery’s collar wasn’t just a symbol of the night. It became her identity. She was called into Delilah’s room every night for a week. Sometimes to serve. Sometimes to watch. Sometimes to be used while others watched. She loved it. But cracks formed. One of the other pledges Madeline cornered her in the library. “She chose you, didn’t she?” she hissed. “She always chooses one. And then breaks them.” Avery ignored her. She didn’t believe it. But then came the whispers. “She’s just Delilah’s toy.” “She’s lost herself.” “She won’t make it to sisterhood.” Avery’s confidence cracked. One night, she didn’t come when summoned. She stayed in her room. Naked. Collar still on. Crying. Delilah showed up an hour later. Silent. Unforgiving. “Do you think you have a choice?” she asked. Avery didn’t answer. Delilah climbed into bed beside her. Kissed her neck. Then whispered, “You belong to me.” That night, Avery cried and came at the same time. Initiation ended. And Avery made it. She was a sister now. But she wasn’t like the others. They drank. They flirted. They teased. Avery knelt. She watched Delilah with new pledges, felt jealousy burn through her. But also...pride. She’d survived her. No she’d been chosen by her. Three months later. Delilah was graduating. Her final party as president. The basement was lit up again. Candles. Music. White slips. A new crop of trembling pledges sat in a circle. Avery stood behind Delilah now, in heels and crimson lingerie. A collar of her own a new one, custom-made, with a ruby pendant. Delilah turned to her. “Ready to choose the next one?” Avery smiled. “Yes, Madam President.” And she stepped forward. Toward the trembling girls. Ready to taste sin again.