Ivy League at Any Cost

Vicki was angry. Angry and drunk. "We regret to inform you," the letter began. All the studying, the extra curricular activities, the charity work -- all of it for nothing. The rejection was the end of her chance for an ideal life. Now she'd be off to some shit-hole state university. Would her mother feel anger or pity?

To make it worse, her older sister had partied through high school and still gotten into the Ivy League. She was out there living the dream as an investment banker or some other wildly overpaid job that kept her in tailored suits and luxury cars.

Vicki took another drink from the pint of Fireball. She felt the bad taste in her gut as much as her mouth, was surprised to find herself sobbing. It would be hours before her parents got home.

The contact in her phone said Sarah instead of Sister. She pressed it and listened while it dialed.

"Hello," Sarah answered on the first ring. It was 11:00pm.

"How the effe did you get into college," Vicki said. Her words might have been slurred.

"Vicki?"

"Yeah," Vicki said.

"What's wrong?"

--

Sarah wouldn't talk to her that night, honestly maybe she did, but it was all a little hazy. They had agreed to further discuss after Vicki had time to process. And sober up.

Vicki met her sister for brunch at a trendy cafe. They sat outside, the warm sun enough to blunt the crisp April breeze.

Sarah was ice, her face always controlled, smooth skin and perfect teeth.

"I thought it would be easy to get in. After all, you..." Vicki started to say but lost her nerve.

"You can say it. After I got in," Sarah said.

"Yeah," Vicki said. She drank some ice water and tried not to make eye contact. "No offense, but your scores weren't that good, you were in cheer which I'm sure shows up great, but otherwise you didn't even try. You never even wanted to go to college."

"Yeah," Sarah said. "I just didn't want to disappoint."

That stung Vicki extra hard. She still hadn't told her parents. They had sacrificed to put both girls into private schools, and after their free spirited oldest daughter whipped through the Ivy League, they had extra high expectations for Vicki.

Her eyes started to well up, but Vicki fought off any tears. "How did you do it?" she asked.

Sarah stared at her for a long moment, gears turning.

"You repeat any of this, and I'll never speak to you again," she said.

"What?"

"I'm serious. Swear to me what I'm about to say never gets repeated. NE-VER," Sarah said.

Another long beat.

"I promise," Vicki said. Sarah's raised eyebrow, didn't believe her. "I swear. Not a word."

"No matter what I tell you," Sarah said.

"No matter what," Vicki said.

Another long pause.

"I pulled some strings, non-academic strings," Sarah said.

"Oh my god I knew it. You cheated," Vicki said. This revelation didn't get Vicki into college, but it did make her feel like less of a failure.

"I didn't cheat. I pulled other strings, and it wasn't free," Sarah said.

"Sounds like cheating to me," Vicki said, suddenly smug.

"Life isn't about following the rules. It's about finding the right people to do the things you need done, and paying for it," Sarah said.

"What does that mean?"

"Let's just change the topic. I cheated, OK? Mission accomplished," Sarah said.

An awkward silence. Sarah wouldn't make eye contact with her. Sarah pulled the waiter and ordered a scotch, neat. It was 10am.

"These strings. Can you pull them for me?" Vicki asked.

--

Sarah was several Scotches in before she laid it all out. She had pledged a secret organization within a national sorority. The organization got her admitted, paid room and board for four years, even placed her in elite circles. But there was a cost.

"You have to understand, there are a lot of rich men out there, think tech billionaires, who are married but never got to really experience college. Girls. They don't want to get a divorce, and they don't want a porn star or hooker-- at least not all of them. They want the girl that wouldn't give them the time of day. A sorority girl.

"And you had sex with them?"

"And then some," Sarah said. She actually smiled, like it was a fond memory.

"You liked it?"

It sort of made sense, Vicki thought. Sarah always was something of a slut; her mom used the euphemism "wild." Apparently, Sarah had fucked a bunch of billionaires through college, and rather than feel shame, she smiled.

"Most of the time," Sarah said.

"What about the other times?" Vicki asked.

Sarah put her drink down, a serious look on her face.

"Any sorority has a hazing process, no matter what they tell parents these days. It's a sort of bonding experience, also a weed-out experience, and also just a flex of sadism from twenty year olds who don't know better. It's not pretty." She took a long pause. "Now imagine all that hazing for a secret society of sex slaves," Sarah said.

There was an edge of bitterness on the word slaves, an idea Sarah had been dancing around but just outright said.

"Bad?" Vicki asked.

"Yeah," Sarah said.

"So that was the worst part?" Vicki asked.

"No," Sarah said. "For that semester, you are forbidden from dating of any kind. Your life is filled with actual school, actual pledging, and then the layers of sexual services, learning the ropes, etc. It's a time sink. The participants are screened for STDs, and there would be hell to pay for giving an STD to a client. No outside sex during your service."

"And," she said, "I violated this rule. And got caught. They were prepared to pull any string necessary to kick me out of the program, out of school, unless I made amends. Punishment. I did what they wanted. I grit it out. And now I have all of this."

Vicki wasn't a virgin but she wasn't much more experienced beyond that. Of course she was going to have more sex in college anyway, and of course she'd get hazed. How much worse could this be?

"I need to do this," Vicki said. "You will get me in."

--

Vicki's head was still spinning. For one semester, she would be a house slave. Her and a few other girls, unknown to the other pledges and sworn to secrecy, forbidden from turning down any sexual request. It was 90 days of prostitution where the payment was more valuable than money. Sarah had warned Vicki not to do it, but here she was. A phone number in hand, and a cautionary tale in her mind.

--

Six months later, Vicki was enrolled and in her sorority, an eighteen year old slave. The total pledge class was twenty girls, of that group only a handful were in The Program.

There was a woman in her forties, a CEO type in charge of the program, but she only made one appearance, and Vicki understood the CEO mostly handled client relations.

Vicki's "manager" was McKayla, a senior in marketing and an officer in the sorority. McKayla was super WASPy, with dyed blond hair, dark eyebrows, hazel eyes, and understated makeup. Her smile felt fake, but otherwise she was extremely pretty.

Vicki had gotten her room situated, and her family on the long drive back home, and she was finally free to explore and settle in to her new life. She found herself talking to McKayla in the kitchen next to a common area. McKayla wore skintight dress pants and a cream colored top that exposed plenty of her chest. Vicki had better breasts than McKayla, but the senior definitely had a tighter ass.

McKayla was overly casual, eating an orange while she leaned against a cabinet. Vicki heard a waft of discussions cutting in and out as other girls passed through the adjacent room. It smelled like citrus. The conversation turned serious.

"You're really going to go through with this?" McKayla asked. "Sex is sex, but it also comes with baggage if you're not prepared. Men want to treat us like sex objects, but most of the time society slows them down. Not here. Not this program. You prepared to be a sex object for strangers?"

"I can do it," Vicki said, butterflies in her stomach.

"Show me then," McKayla said.

Vicki didn't know what do. She stood there awkwardly. "Show you?"

"Take off your clothes," McKayla said. She was already annoyed, a harsh edge in her voice.

Suddenly those voices in the other room were a lot sharper. How many girls were in the other room. Three? Vicki froze.

"Well?" McKayla said.

Vicki heart was racing, but her body wouldn't move. She couldn't imagine stripping down in the middle of the day in this new place with these new people. How many seconds went by? Ten? Twenty?

"Listen," McKayla said. "We both know what you signed up for. The big show. It is intense. Rush starts next week, and you're going to be asked to do a lot of things. Even the normal pledges are going to strip down during hazing, and you are not a normal pledge. If you can't do this now. You may need to call your family before they get too far down the road."

McKalya finished her orange and threw it in the sink.

"I'll do it," Vick said. Every micro-sound of movement or voices in the other room filled her with fear.

McKayla paused.

Vicki pulled off her top, pushing past her her thoughts of how this was wrong and desperate. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulled them down to her thighs. She was wearing cotton panties and a flesh colored bra. Vicki held her pants on her thighs, looked up to make eye contact with McKayla.

McKayla nodded her on. Vicki dropped her pants to her ankles.

Vicki made eye contact again, was she really supposed to keep going? She heard more voices in the other room.

"Hey Liz," McKayla said, "come in here."

"Hey McKayla," Vicki heard a voice from the other room. It was Liz, the other co-captain for handling pledges. Liz continued, "Look who I found? Did you invite Steve already?"

Liz stepped around the corner, followed by a boy-- a man, fuck it, a stranger Vicki didn't know.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," Vicki thought, panicking.

McKayla's eyes cut to this strange man, over to Vicki, then back.

"You're breaking in pledges already? Rush doesn't start until next week," the stranger, Steve, said.

He was tall and athletic, dressed casual, prepared to help move. He was in his early twenties with a crew cut and a... and a... Vicki and Steve made eye contact. Holy shit Vicki was just there, in the kitchen, in her underwear, and she cut away. She stared at the wall above the door, willing herself to be anywhere else.

"Hi babe!" McKayla turned her attention to the newcomer Steve, her voice packed with artificial pep. She practically jumped into his arms and kissed him. "Feels like I haven't seen you in forever."

Steve smiled and turned his attention back to Vicki. "So, the naked girl? A pledge?"

"Vicki is a special case," Liz said. She seemed to dart into the room. "Right McKayla?"

"Come on Liz. House business," McKayla shot back. Vicki heard a coolness in her voice, even more than when McKayla had been ordering her to strip. "Vicki is moving into the house directly, so just a little extra razzing."

"OK cool," Steve said. He'd been drinking in Vicki's form this whole time, barely making eye contact with McKayla. Despite Vicki's desperation to avoid everything, even she noticed it. The room turned awkward in an instant.

"But your cloths back on," McKayla said. She turned to Steve.

"Hold on a second," Liz said. "I just got here. I want to test her out too." Liz could have been McKayla's biological sister. She was a bit shorter, but otherwise similar. Liz was fit with blond hair and dimples.

Liz closed the distance across the kitchen, inspecting Vicki.

"OK, not too bad. Let's see what's underneath that bra," Liz said.

Vicki was frozen, unsure whether to put her clothes back on or take them off. McKayla had rank, but it wasn't exactly the military. Vicki watched McKayla watch Steve watch her.

"Take off your bra, pledge," Liz said.

"Why don't we wait for the other pledges to get here--" McKayla started.

"I'm co-captain of this rush, and I want to see those tits. So let's go," Liz said to Vicki. Vicki looked at McKayla. McKayla didn't say anything.

"FUCK," Vicki thought. She reached behind her back. She was really going to do this, in the kitchen in front of her sisters and the boyfriend who couldn't stop staring.

"Maybe we should go," Steve said.

"Yeah," McKayla said.

"No stay," Liz said, "Our girl needs the practice. You afraid Steve's going to catch yellow fever?"

"Jesus Liz," McKayla said.

Vicki tried to ignore the offhand racism in the comment, but it stung. She didn't like being boiled down to that caricature, but... here she was in a kitchen in front of three people, about to take off her clothes at their command.

Vicki took a deep breath. Liz was right. It was only going to get worse from here, and maybe Vicki did need the practice. She unclasped the bra, and in an instant the support for her breasts was gone. She slipped the straps off her shoulders and then she was topless.

All eyes were on Vicki's breasts. They were bigger than she liked, with dark nipples that contrasted with her pale skin. Despite her desire to disassociate under the scrutiny, Vicki couldn't help but read the room.

Liz was judging Vicki's body, looking for flaws. McKayla disinterested, only watching Steve. Steve was captivated by her breasts, his gaze unwavering. More than the nudity, she just felt alien in the room, an Asian body in a WASP world.

"She's kinda fat, no?" Liz said.

Vicki's face was hot. She didn't know it was possible to feel more embarrassed.

"Turn around," Liz said.

Vicki did what she was ordered. She spun around, pants around her ankles, showing her body to these strangers.

Vicki was facing the wall, away from these girls. She knew Liz was right. She'd already dropped a few pounds getting ready for this new role, but still hated every spot of cellulite and the way her belly rolled if she didn't control her posture. Vicki vowed to do more squats.

"Does Steve know about rush?" Liz asked.

"He knows there is a process," McKayla said.

"He know you can order this piece of meat to suck his cock and--"

"Jesus Christ Liz! Stop" McKayla shouted. "Steve, we are going." A deep breath. "Liz I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you."

Vicki heard McKayla and her boyfriend storm out. The discomfort in the room almost overwhelmed her nudity.

"Sorry about the yellow fever comment," Liz said. "I was just trying to fuck with McKayla."

Vicki didn't understand that dynamic, didn't need to understand it. She turned to face Liz. "Can I put my clothes on now?"

"Turn the fuck around. I didn't tell you to move," Liz said.

Vicki did as ordered, topless in the kitchen, her ass exposed to god knows who.

"You're one of our specials this year. I assume you know what that means?" Liz said.

"I do," Vicki said. Her mouth was dry.

"Well I'm your best friend in the world. Before you ever lay a finger on the cock of some coked up billionaire, you're going to have to earn it. So don't start acting like some shy virgin."

"What do you want?" Vicki was afraid to ask.

"Take off your panties," Liz whispered in her ear, so close she could feel Liz's damp breath.

Vicki didn't know how to process it. She was following orders but could only guess what would happen next. Humiliate her some more? Collect another boyfriend to lust at her nudity? Rape her? She didn't know. Was terrified to find out.

She took her panties off anyway, sliding them down her thighs far enough to let them drop free.

"Bend over," Liz said.

Vicki's blood was pounding in her ears. She did as ordered.

Vicki felt a smooth hand on her bare ass. Liz caressed Vicki's ass for a second.

"You like this? Like being put on display?" Liz ask her.

"No," Vicki said. She wanted her clothes back, that hand to be gone. She started to shake, couldn't stop herself.

"I'll be the judge of that," Liz said. She ran her hand down Vicki's ass, down to her thighs, and cupped Vicki's pussy with her hand.

She ran her fingers through her folds, the touch of this strange woman terrifying and electric at the same time. Liz's fingers grazed over her clit, circling it for a moment before straying to her pussy. She dipped a finger inside of Vicki, just the tip, enough to jolt Vicki again. "Holy shit this is happening, she's fingering me," her brain was shouting, but Vicki couldn't move.

"I think you like it," Liz said.

Liz pressed her finger deeper into Vicki's pussy. Vicki couldn't move, couldn't breath, couldn't think. She was standing in the kitchen naked, this stranger, her sorority sister, raping her with a finger. She felt every micro-flex as Liz wiggled it inside of her ever so slightly.

After an eternity, Liz pulled her finger out of Vicki. Vicki was able relax. "Turn around," Liz said.

Vick straightened up off the counter. Turned to face the women. Nude, probed, her tits out. Liz wiped her finger on Vicki's cheek.

"Wet," Liz said, with some kind of satisfaction.

"Can I get dressed now?" Vicki asked.

Liz just smiled. "Yeah," she said. "Put your clothes back on, drop a few pounds, and shave that pussy. Got it?" Liz said.

Vicki felt awkward bending her down to collect her pants.

"GOT IT?" Liz said.

"Yeah, drop a few pounds," she repeated.

"Don't look so mortified Vicki. We both know what you signed up for. You better toughen up quick."

--