"This has got to be the sickest stunt us Delts have ever pulled," Phoebe whispered. "Poor Colleen."
"Shh," Brooke said. She watched Colleen through the gauzy curtain surrounding the bed.
"I mean it," Phoebe said. "I could puke. How can she stay so cool?"
"Because she's Colleen," Brooke snapped
sotto voce
. "She's our president and she's got Delta Sigma Epsilon in her genes. Mother. Sister. Grandmother. All chapter presidents too, you know. In this very house."
"This very house we're gonna loose."
"We are not losing our house. Money talks, sister."
"I can hear you whispering," Colleen said. "It's not helping."
Phoebe cleared her throat. "Sorry. Is the room OK? Did I get everything like you wanted? There wasn't much time and—"
"It's great," Colleen said. "I'm just a little...gun-shy now the hour's arrived."
"Cock-shy, you mean," Brooke said.
Phoebe glanced poisoned daggers at Brooke. "You sure you don't want anyone else with you? I mean...Jesus, Collie, you don't have to go through with this. There's other ways."
"Other ways, yes," Colleen said, stepping through the curtain. "But there's no more time."
"I know, I know. A cashier's check Monday or moving vans Tuesday."
"And bulldozers Wednesday," Colleen said. "Old Greek Row...the last obstacle to our dear chancellor's grand vision. We're the crown jewel. If we go down, the other houses fall like dominos. Shame on us for letting Bane's piss away so much history for parking lots and a cafeteria."
Phoebe sniffed. "We could call alumnae. Solicit donations—"
"We are not beggars," Colleen said. "That's not the Delta way. Even if there were time."
"And this is?" Phoebe's eyes teared.
"Cry and I'll totally lose it." Colleen hugged Phoebe. "Hey, where's your Delta spunk? In twenty years we'll meet here for a reunion and we'll know it was us, Delta Sigma Epsilon class of '16, who saved this place. And we'll laugh our asses off at how we did it."
Phoebe nodded. "OK, Collie. But we're all getting drunk after this."
"You know it, sister," Colleen said. "Purple shit-faced drunk." She swatted Phoebe's butt and pushed her toward the door. "Now get out there, control freak. That's where we, where I, need you."
Brooke locked the door. Colleen's room, the 'presidential suite' the girls called it because it had its own bathroom, had been emptied of everything except the bed, a chair, and a table. Colleen stood with her hands clasped under her chin staring at the floor. The charisma and confidence that made her such a terrific leader had suddenly turned inside out.
"Collie?" Brooke said.
"Yeah?"
"We need to let 'em know downstairs."
Colleen ignored Brooke. Her hands moved, wistfully gathering her hair and twisting it into a bun.
"Collie?" Brooke said.
Colleen clenched a hair pin between her teeth. "Don't rush me."
Brooke waited. The bass track of a rap song filtered through the floor.
Colleen finished her hair and rubbed her palms on her khaki shorts. "Brooke, I'm gonna do it."
"Collie?" Brooke said gently.
"Yeah?"
"If you're going to do it, you have to take off your clothes." For a moment, Brooke thought Colleen's resolve had withered. She bit her lower lip, looked around as if seeking an escape, and drifted to the window. She pulled aside the blinds. Even at night, one could see the college administration building across the tree-studded commons.
"Not on my watch, Banes," Colleen said. She lifted off her sorority shirt and folded it with the Greek letters exposed. Nothing bearing ΔΣΕ could touch the ground or be treated with disrespect. Every pledge had this tradition seared into her brain with humiliations most need experience only once.
Colleen's fingers seemingly sought reasons not to unzip her shorts, not to push them down, not to shed her panties. But she did, and she folded each with the same care as her shirt. She handed her clothes to Brooke and crawled naked onto the bed like it was thin ice over rushing water. She eased onto her back and crossed her arms over her breasts. Brooke retrieved a gym bag from the closet.
"Brooke?" Colleen said.
"Yes?"
"Where did you put my clothes?"
"Hanging in the bathroom. I put a bra with them." Brooke dug four padded leather cuffs out of the gym bag.
"OK."
Brooke buckled a cuff around Colleen's left ankle. Her skin felt cool, almost clammy.
"No bras tonight," Colleen said. "That's bold for some of the girls."
Brooke laughed. "Like Phoebe? Let's hope jiggling tits jiggle loose some credit cards."
"Are you two getting along?"
"Well enough."
Colleen smiled. "Some of the girls painted pride flags on their cheeks for the wedding."
"Maria, Ashley...and Laura, I think," Brooke said.
"It's cool two guys got married on campus."
"I had class, couldn't go." Brooke fitted a cuff to Colleen's right ankle, pushed the leather tongue into the buckle, and snugged it.
"It's only right," Colleen said. "People should be free to marry whomever they love. Thank you Justice Kennedy. Do you know the newlyweds?"
"Seen them around, but no." Brooke took lengths of black rope from the bag.
Colleen wiggled her toes. "I had a class with Dave. He's—"
"Collie?"
"Yeah?"
"You gotta spread your legs."
"OK."
Brooke tied the ankle cuffs to the bed frame. In turn, she lifted each of Colleen's arms and wrapped a cuff around the wrist. Colleen smiled through her apprehension as Brooke fussed with the buckles.
"How's that?" Brooke said after tying off the last cuff.
Colleen surveyed her spreadeagled body. During rehearsal, she had neither undressed nor been tied. A mistake, thought Brooke at the time, but Colleen had been determined to project a nonchalant face to the girls, some of whom had voiced second thoughts. Now, Colleen jerked each cuff, timidly at first, then harder, and whatever apprehensions she had hidden blossomed.
"Oh my God," she panted. "I'm helpless...I can't...Brooke...I can't..."
Brooke cupped her face. "Colleen! Look at me. Phoebe. Zoe. Chandra. Maria. Emily. Ashley. Haley. Laura. Me. No one touches you that doesn't run our gauntlet. We all pledged together. Remember the hell that witch Deirdre put us through? We took care of each other. We'll take care of you."
Colleen said nothing.
"Collie," Brooke said. "Zoe and Haley both said they'd do this. Should I call them?"
Colleen blinked. "Emily...Emily said she would if someone did it with her...maybe she...no. I'm doing it." Her eyes focused on Brooke. "I am doing it."
"'Fear is the mind-killer,'" Brooke said, quoting Colleen's favorite novel.
"'Fear is the mind-killer.'" Colleen closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She whispered the words again.
Brooke smacked Colleen's cheek. "Practice what you preach, sister."
Colleen nodded. "I'm OK now. Brooke?"
"Yes?"
"Sorry I'm such a wuss. It's all kind of hit me at—oh for fucks sake, Brooke. Padlocks?"
Brooke smiled. "For the cuffs. A little bling to reinforce the fantasy. A stuck-up sorority girl at his mercy. Naked, helpless, humbled by his mighty cock. Not that I think there's a cock anywhere that could humble you. Just pretend. Guys eat that submissive shit up."
"What if there's an emergency?" Colleen said. "You lose the key or something? Anything could—"
"Relax. I won't lose the key. Trust me."
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
Colleen squirmed. "I need to pee."
"Shit, Collie. I just got you rigged. It's nerves."
"I'm gonna wet the bed."
"Go ahead. I doubt the horny pricks will care."
Colleen dropped her head onto the pillow and sighed. "That's gross. Brooke?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"For tying you to a bed to get fucked for money?"
"Seriously. For being the bad cop."
"My pleasure." Brooke sat on the bed and dangled a gag over Colleen's head. "OK, Madam President, you got any more excuses?"
Colleen frowned. "You said you'd use a ball gag. That's a, uh—"
"Penis gag," Brooke said. "You know guys will try to stick their tongues in your mouth. This thing should keep 'em out, the way it's made."
Colleen started to speak and Brooke jammed the stubby faux cock into her mouth. "Head up." She tightened the velcro straps. "How's that? Not too tight?"
No, nodded Colleen.
Brooke made a last inspection of the cuffs and tapped Colleen's foot. "Show me 'yes.'"
Colleen extended both index fingers.
"'No'?"
Colleen made a V sign with both hands.
"'Get the motherfucker off me'?"
Colleen flexed all her fingers wildly.
Brooke touched Colleen's shoulder. "Remember, we've got your six. It'll go down just like we practiced except for the, um, carnal knowledge part. Last thing. I'll always be where I can see you and the guy. I see something I don't like, I'm crashing the party regardless. Now, ready to rock and roll?"
Yes.