Sigma Alpha Sigma

This is the third part of the five-part story, Sigma Alpha Sigma. It contains scenes of Dominance and submission and BDSM. All consensual.

My Routine

By October, the routine was established. Outside the house, each of us was like a member of any other sorority, and as such we largely kept to each other while on campus. But I maintained my friendships with many I knew from freshman year and often stopped by the suite after Evelyn got over my abandonment of her. Though she and I did not go out at nights as we used to, we often ate lunch together, and she became friends to several of my sisters.

On Thursday nights, Carol and I spent about an hour in the bathroom. She usually wore her best lingerie under an evening gown she kept for the occasion–several of the other juniors did the same–and I (naked of course) undressed her slowly, kissing my way down her front, with detours over each of her nipples. I held her hand, so she could get in the tub, and I awaited the inevitable invitation to join her. Sometimes I sat between her legs with my back towards her as her fingers lightly ran across my folds with the occasional invasion and we remained like that until the water began to chill at which point she sat on the edge of the tub so I could eat her.

More often, our positions in and on the tub were reversed. And in our room, we were much as I assume any other lesbian couple is, who share a bed.

This was subject to Rebecca’s needs/requirements. At times, I slept alone as Carol was on the second floor. (Unlike sophomores on the third floor, juniors did not need to be naked on the second.) A few times, Carol slept alone as I was in Rebecca’s bed for the night. She was more dominant than was Carol. I would be told to go to the second floor–naked–and enter her room. She would usually be dressed, but sometimes was naked on the bed, in which case without a word I would crawl between her thighs and eat her out.

If she was dressed, I would perform the ritualistic and lengthy undressing and as often as not she would pull out her strapon and fuck me either on the bed or when I was leaning against her dresser. She had a horizontal mirror over it and she insisted that I keep my eyes on hers when she was in me, and I could see her smile as she refused my pleading to be allowed to come.

Only once, though, did she deny me that pleasure before we went to sleep, and I don’t think I slept a wink in her bed afterward, listening to her placid snoring while my body writhed in frustration.

But that was only the once. Otherwise, she was kind to me as she was kind to Carol when the three of us were together in the house. Even when she had Carol or me chained spread-eagled on her bed, she was kind and gentle. Even when she chained me to the bed first, on my back, and placed Carol, also bound, directly above me so we lay atop each other wearing ball gags and Rebecca alternated between our pussies with a dildo as we flopped until she put a second dildo in Cal while the original was in me and ordered us both to come.

I felt more comfortable in class than I had as a freshman, and my parents were happy for me during our weekly calls. Diane was even more excited as I kept her informed of my changing life. Notwithstanding my relationship to my sisters and of course my mistresses, she was my closest friend and always would be. My mistresses gave me a dispensation to speak to her, and only her.

A Transgression & A Punishment

There was nothing unusual on the Friday before Halloween beyond the “spooky” trimming and decorations all around campus and among the sororities and fraternities. We were among the most enthusiastic of the houses, and the porch and all the windows were adorned with all manner of witches and goblins and skeletons, with several “headstones” on the front lawn.

Classes were over and I walked back to the house with Tina Dunston, a fellow sophomore sister. When we entered, things seemed unusually quiet as she and I picked our collars from the six pegs to the left of the front door. Tina was “sophomore sister Three” and I was “sophomore sister Five,” and her collar was on the third and mine on the fifth peg. The collars were only half-an-inch wide and black. Mine has a small plaque that read “Carol’s sub.” All the sophomores wore their collars inside. They were given to us in a ceremony on the third day.

When we walked in, chatting, I happened to look into the living room. Normally it was much like any other living room with two sofas and several armchairs distributed around with quality pieces of furniture. Now things were arranged as they were on my first day except that the dining-room chairs were in a semi-circle.

More strangely, the three from the Four line were on the sofa, the senior in the middle and the junior and sophomore (the one I encountered naked in the hallway on my first day) on either side of her. They wore the outfits donned on that first night, which were not worn since. The senior, Paula, said, “Go to your rooms. You will be summoned at the appropriate time.”

Tina and I looked at one another and bowed before hurrying up the stairs, silent until we were on the second flight, but then we were all confused as to what was going on until we went into our rooms.

When I opened the door, Carol was in the comfortable chair.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“All I can tell you is that Mar”–for Marilyn, sophomore sister Four–“broke a rule and punishment is to be handed out. That is all I can say.”

I sought to think of what rule could have been violated since it was not as though there was some type of list or anything. The only thing I could think of was that something happened to someone who was not a Sigma Alpha Sigma. But Carol would say no more about it.

Instead, she rose.

I noticed that our first-day outfits were on the bed.

“Dress me,” she said. For all the world she looked like a college junior in jeans tight around the hips and trainers, a t-shirt. I untucked the shirt and pulled it from her jeans and she lifted her arms so I could remove it. I sniffed one armpit from the shirt–which we both liked me doing–and folded it and placed it on the bed. With what had become a practiced set of fingers, I unclasped her bra and took that off and placed it too on the bed.

I leaned in and kissed both of her nipples. I really didn’t care if this was allowed, but again we both enjoyed it. After unbuckling her belt and unsnapping her pants, she helped me pull them down and off, and then I pulled her plain panties down and she lifted one then the other foot so I could remove them.

Her pubic hairs were curly, and one of my tasks was to keep it trim, and I was proud of my work whenever I looked at her pussy and annoying as they were, I did not care to have bits of my mistress’s pubic hairs in my tongue from when I ate her.

I didn’t have long to enjoy the view as I had to get her dressed. If she wanted underwear, she would have laid it out. She had not. I lifted the bottom of her dress, more a gown really, and she lifted her arms so I could drape it down over her. I felt I was wrapping my own present which I hoped to soon open.

But those light thoughts vanished when I remembered why we were doing what we were doing. After I put her heels on, I stepped back.

“Your turn,” she said, and she repeated the process with me and my t-shirt and jeans and trainers. Except she didn’t kiss my nipples. Instead, she ran her teeth across one then the other. Carol knew how that sent a shock wave through me, and she always had a self-satisfied smile when she pulled away after doing it. She duplicated with my jeans and panties what I had done, though she took the liberty of kissing my pussy hairs. I was ambivalent about them before but now matched my care for my pubes to what I did to her. And another shock and another smirk.

It was not long before I had my dress and heels on. When I did, my told me we were to see our Rebecca. When we entered her room, she was still in her street clothes, and I watched as Cal performed the undressing/dressing ritual. When done, Rebecca told us to sit. We sat in the two hard-backed chairs.

“As you know, we have very few rules here. But Mar has decided to violate one.”

Seeing my confusion, she said to me, “Mel, we do not keep a detailed list of dos and don’ts. All you must do is treat this house as hallowed ground; treat all of your sisters, including eventually those of whom you are a mistress, with respect and kindness; never reveal our confidences; and limit your sexual cravings to the women in your line. For you, that is me and Cal as well as those who came before us.”

From this, it was pretty clear that Marilyn did something she shouldn’t have with another student. What it was I did not know. Nor did I know the punishment.

Rebecca finished by saying, “That is all I can tell you. What we are to witness is Mar’s confession and the punishment that is meted out for her transgression.”

With that, I watched the other two chat as if we were at dinner and as if what was about to happen was not about to happen. But I thought Rebecca was far more relaxed than was Carol.

A gong was sounded, and the three of us got up. We followed Rebecca out, though we had to wait for another line to start down the stairs before we could. When we reached the living room, we waited. Alice, whose normal spot was taken on the sofa, moved to a chair to the sofa’s right and senior sister Two to its left. Then the other senior sisters took seats and the junior sisters sat opposite their mistresses, and I stood behind Carol’s chair.

Paula rose. She was Marilyn’s senior.

“Ladies, as I believe all of you have been told, we are here today because Mar violated one of our few rules.” Marilyn looked like she would puke. Her junior, Erica, was stoic, looking straight on, not having moved since we came in.

“Stand, Mar.”

Marilyn stood.

“Tell your family what you did.”

Marilyn looked across to the juniors and sophomores. She waited, shaking slightly.

“I kissed someone who was not in my line.”

“Explain.”

“It was a friend from freshman year. We’d…we’d been intimate, and I was very close to her. We resumed our friendship–”

Paula interrupted.

“As you know, ladies, there is nothing inappropriate about resuming or gaining friendships with anyone who is not one of our sisters. Is that all you did, Mar?”

“No, Mistress. It was between classes, and we were in the ladies’ room. No one else was there, and she pushed me against the wall and suddenly she was kissing me.”

“And did you encourage her?”

“I swear I didn’t. Or at least I don’t think I did.”

“What happened next?”

“I kissed her back. Hard. I pulled her mouth to mine and kissed her and my hand reached down to her…to the front of her shorts until someone entered the room, and we broke up.”

“Had someone not entered, would you have broken the kiss? Would you have…touched her?”

“I…I don’t know. Mistress, I am so sorry.”

“How did we come to learn of this transgression?”

“Later, in class, she tried to kiss me. Just making fun, you know? When I pulled away, she said so half the class heard it, ‘oh you weren’t so shy with your tongue in the bathroom before.’ I knew word would get around, so I called Erica and told her what I did.”

“Would you have confessed had you not thought you would be caught?”

Again, Marilyn paused. “No.”

“But you did confess. That counts in your favor. So, tell your sisters, did you violate the rules?”

“Yes.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Yes.”

“Are you willing to be punished?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Throughout this, Erica did not seem to move. Surely now she would.

Paula looked at Marilyn.

“Strip.”

Again she paused, but Marilyn pulled her dress over her head. As expected, she was naked, and she put the dress on the sofa.

“Rotate slowly in front of everyone.”

Marilyn slowly turned. She was easily the most beautiful woman among us, and I and I am sure most of the others lusted after her body. We had seen it plenty of times, of course, on the third floor, but this display was different. That was natural. This was humiliation.

When she finished her turn, Paula said she could get dressed. There was a visible sigh of relief around the room, at least among the sophomores. While none of us would want to suffer such humiliation, it was over quickly.

Then Paula said, “Er,” and her sub rose. Marilyn looked confused.

Paula looked at her. “Strip your Erica.” This was unexpected, having Marilyn be the tool of what was plainly to be her mistress’s humiliation and not just her own. She waited longer than Paula appreciated.

“Now!” It was a display of authority I’d not seen before in the house. Marilyn rushed to Erica, bending down to lift the gown off her. I wondered whether they, too, had a nipple kissing ritual, but if they did Marilyn wisely thought it best not to follow it. Then Erica was naked and ordered to slowly turn for us to ogle her. We all knew we had to look, and I did and felt ashamed that I did. I realized Marilyn was beginning to cry. When Erica finished her turn, Paula walked from the room, and Erica followed. Uncertain at first, the still naked Marilyn followed. When they were gone, Alice stood, and the same senior-junior-sophomore trio went from the room followed by the rest of us.

We turned down the hall. It was tight, but we all fit. I noticed that the sideboard that was normally along the wall to the left of where the staircase began was gone as were the two landscapes that were above it. The removals revealed four eyelets on the wall. Paula removed something from a small table that was to the left of the stairs. It was a box, and it jingled when she lifted it.

“Mar. You have confessed to being intimate with someone who is not of your line. You confess that you should not have done it and that you would not have told your junior of it had you not feared being caught. That you admitted to it to your junior and then to all of your sisters is something that is in your favor and will mitigate the duration of your punishment. Er?”

Erica turned so her back was to the wall. Marilyn suddenly understood and watched as Erica backed up so her naked body was against the wall.

“Mar.” Marilyn stepped forward. “You are to bind your Mistress’s arms and legs to the wall.” Marilyn again froze until her mistress repeated, “Now!” Marilyn grabbed the cuffs and chains and first secured Erica’s wrists and then her ankles to the wall. Her legs were not too spread, and her feet remained on the floor, placed on either edge of a towel. Instead of going above her head, the wrist restraints were to the side so as not to strain the shoulders.

With her secure, Marilyn stepped back, in full cry.

“Because you confessed,” Paula said, “the sentence is three nights. Your mistress will be here each of the next three nights from six until midnight. You, Mar, will be confined to Erica’s room for those hours. At midnight, you will come down and release her. The keys will be kept on the table behind us. By six each night, you shall secure her.”

She turned to the sophomores. “This is how you will be punished. Through your direct Mistress. I do not say this lightly. If my sub Er were to act inappropriately, it would be me chained to this wall. That goes for all of us. And for the seniors, our president has the distinction of being the proxy for any of their transgressions. She will be the one naked and helpless in front of all of us.”

We all looked at Alice. “It is a privilege that I never hope to enjoy,” which helped lighten the mood. She followed it by saying, “Yes, ladies. You are to go about your business as if nothing is different. You may ignore the humiliation of Erica. Or you may actively engage with it. By staring at her when you pass. It is up to you. Now please return to your rooms and resume your lives.”

I waited until Carol grabbed my hand, and we were among the first to go up. Nothing needed to be said, but I told her I prayed I would not do something that led to her humiliation.

We were still in our first-day clothes, and she said she hoped and expected that I would not.

For the next nights, I avoided going to the ground floor as much as possible. When I did, I caught sight of Erica. I wanted to comfort her in some ways, but I knew I could not.

Of course, we avoided Marilyn when she was not confined to her room, and she looked to be as miserable a creature as I have ever seen. Indeed, even when she was not technically confined, she remained in her room as much as possible.

Shortly before midnight on the third day, Carol told me to follow her downstairs. There was no need, she said, to get dressed. I was, as ever, naked on the third floor. When we got to the bottom of the steps, we saw Erica, looking miserable. She watched us pass, and I detected a slight smile as we went into the living room. It was in its normal, non-formal configuration, and Carol and I found seats together.

By the time the clock struck, the juniors and sophomores of all the lines (except Four) were there, and a moment later we heard chains hit the ground, and then Marilyn saying, “can you ever forgive me?” We waited several minutes, quietly, until we knew she and Erica were upstairs. Paula came into the living room.

“Ladies. Punishments are very rare in this house. But they must happen sometimes.”

With that, she left, and I followed Carol to her room.

Erica and Marilyn were louder next door than I ever heard them but I did not have long to notice as Carol had ripped her pants and panties off and spread on the bed ordering me to service her, which I did.

The First-Meeting

Sometimes I did not think Carol was very good at the mistress business. I spoke to my sophomore sisters, and they told of evenings in which they were tempted to pull out their safe word, although none had. Using it would not end one’s membership. If a sub used it, she and her mistress would stop and talk about it, assessing each of their limits, and making adjustments as necessary.

I never came close to using my safeword. More than anything, Carol and I shared a common purpose, and that was to adore her body, and that was what I did. But unlike some, she did not use a chain to lock me via my collar to the bed, a largely symbolic move that most of the others endured. Nor was I made to sleep on the floor, as happened in a few cases with others. To be clear, none of these sophomore sisters objected to being treated in that way. It was clear, though, that each line evolved in its own way and each line was autonomous from the others.

It was about a week after the incident with Marilyn, on a Saturday morning, that Carol told me we were going on a road trip. She called it the “First Meeting.” A few of the other sophomores had gone on one and told me they met others in their lines, so I knew what to expect.

I was told Carol’s car was better than Rebecca’s, so we piled into that, though Rebecca did the actual driving. We were each dressed as if we were having dinner in one of the nicer restaurants in town. It took forty-five minutes or so to get to the city, and we pulled up in front of a high-end hotel. We took the elevator to a suite on the twenty-second floor. En route, Rebecca told me we were to meet four or five of “our mistresses.” When we entered the suite, four women in their late twenties or early thirties were spread over the furniture.

One said we were waiting for “one more,” and then another offered us all drinks. I was underage, of course, but she said a “little white wine wouldn’t kill you.” I was introduced to each of the women. Carol told me in the car that the protocol was for the formal introduction ceremony to take place when everyone was there, but for the initial one, it was enough that I kiss each of the other women.