A Betty's Pledge: Volume One (4 page)

“Of course it is,” Sonia snapped with an exasperated sigh. “We are going to the mansion
of the infamous Grants. Better put your game faces on, ladies.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked in a timid tone. She was beginning to look a little
afraid, and I felt that perhaps her confidence level had dropped since seeing the
two stunners in the limo.

“What, you don’t think this is just an average welcome party, do you?” Sonia asked
with a chiding expression.

When Sarah nodded, verifying that that was indeed exactly what she thought, Sonia
and Tricia laughed.

“This is going to be a huge fuckfest.” Sonia laughed, seeing the look of shock cross
both Marissa’s and Sarah’s faces.

“A-wh-what?” Sarah stammered.

“An orgy,” Tricia clarified with a wicked grin. “You’ve heard of one of those, haven’t
you?”

I balked. An orgy? Really? I didn’t think the Grants were the type. I thought that
the club was more personalized than group sex with a bunch of random people. It didn’t
seem like something they’d be into, from what my friend had described.

“Yeah, I have,” Sarah answered, her voice slightly shaking. “I just didn’t think that—”

“You didn’t think at all, apparently.” Sonia sneered, the humor gone from her face
as she gazed at the three of us with a look of disdain. “I can’t believe you three
applied to this program with such naïveté. This is the real deal, girls. Either get
your garters on or ship the fuck out. The three of you look like something out of
a sweet sixteen catalog.” She was laughing then, Tricia echoing her with her own melodic
trill.

It was in that moment that I had my first real doubt about applying to the Betty internship.
I wasn’t one for sexual promiscuity, and the thought of performing a sexual act in
a large room with several people my first night as one of them gave me a sudden sense
of horrible regret. I didn’t know if I was prepared for such a thing, and I honestly
didn’t know if I wanted to find out.

The Dame

~ Madeline Cain ~

The rest of the ride over to the Grants’ consisted of Sonia and Tricia laughing profusely,
continuing to give Sarah a slight panic attack with buzzwords like butt plugs and
anal beads. The poor girl looked so sick, I thought she might hurl on the floor of
the limo just from sheer terror alone.

“Don’t let them get to you,” I whispered, offering her a confident smile as she stared
at me with wide eyes. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“She never said there would be orgies,” Sarah mumbled, her voice soft and timid.

“Who, Sarah?” Marissa asked, tucking a strand of Sarah’s curly hair behind her ear
as she tried to offer some support.

“My aunt,” she said in a squeaky tone. “She’s part of the Grant alumni and she recommended
me to the program—told me it would make me a woman—but she never said anything about
orgies.” She whispered the last part harshly, her features becoming rigid as the limo
drove on.

“What did she tell you?” I asked, truly curious to learn more about the Grants from
someone who was more in the know.

“She said that it was classy and responsible. That they would never make me do anything
I wasn’t comfortable with. That was why she told me to be completely honest in my
interviews with the previewer. And believe me, I was very specific.”

Her comments made me rethink what I’d put on my own limit list: things that I was
interested in and what was unacceptable to me. Sarah was starting to sweat a little,
so I pulled out a napkin from the limo’s compartment kitchen and offered it to her.
She gladly took it and began blotting her forehead. It was then I realized that Tricia
and Sonia had stopped their taunting and were listening to Sarah with rapt attention.
Their faces no longer held any humor, and Sonia’s almost looked defensive.

“I called my aunt when I got my invitation tonight and she was so happy for me,” Sarah
continued. “We squealed and celebrated. That was when she told me that she knew about
the party. Apparently, all the alumni are invited to this costume party. It’s a chance
for us to mingle with each other, she said. Makes the new pledges more eager to let
our guard down. She just couldn’t get the time off to fly out from the East Coast.”

Tricia leaned over and whispered something to Sonia, and the two of them began muttering
back and forth. Sarah’s panic attack seemed to escalate once we turned onto the drive
of the mansion. I put my hand on her shaking knee to help her calm down.

“I’m sure your aunt is right, Sarah. Don’t let what they said get you all worked up.
Relax and have fun tonight. If you want to leave or if something is bothering you,
come to me, all right? I’ll help you get home.”

She nodded her thanks as she tried to pull herself together. She began checking her
appearance in the tinted windows as the limo stopped. The driver rushed around to
open our door. Marissa made her way out of the car after giving Sarah a reassuring
nod, followed by Sonia and Tricia. I decided to stay back for a minute to help Sarah
find her resolve.

Tricia paused briefly before she stepped out. She looked at Sarah and gave her an
apologetic look. “We were just messing with you,” Tricia told her, offering her a
slight shrug and a sheepish grin. “But seriously, if you are that uncomfortable about
sex, then maybe you should resign your position. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
With that, she stepped out into the warm, spring night air.

“What a pair of scandalous bitches,” I spat, looking in Tricia and Sonia’s direction
in disgust and outrage. Sarah burst out laughing.

“I guess it’s my fault for letting them get me so worked up. I was nervous about tonight
as it was.”

I patted her on the back and she looked at me with a smile, her courage returned.

Sarah was ready in a few minutes, and we stepped out of the limo arm in arm. I figured
a united front might help her feel less timid. We made our way toward the mansion,
taking in the amazing décor. The house was immaculate, covered in white lights. The
stairs that led to the front door were trimmed with a red carpet, and there were two
guards dressed in tailored tuxedos at the doors to take our names. Once inside, we
found the entry was lit with hundreds of votive candles and soft white lights. The
carpet led from the foyer straight to the backyard, directing us to where the majority
of the party was being held.

The outside was not at all what I expected. There were several white couches set up
in tight, intimate groupings surrounded by several tall trees. The trees were laced
with hundreds of white lights and the nearby flowerbeds were threaded with beautiful
Japanese lanterns in muted colors. Off to the side, there were tables and chairs,
everything covered with clean linen, and in the back of that area was a full-service
bar. It was then I noticed the bartenders and waiters. They were wearing black tuxedo
pants and white collars with black bow ties, leaving each and every one of them shirtless.
It was a sea of sculpted, bare chests and muscular arms.

“Yummy,” Sarah purred as a shirtless waiter passed with a tray of champagne flutes.
His body was hard, trimmed with corded muscle that made me instantly gnaw my fist
to stifle my desire to let out a needy moan. “He’s delicious. Wonder if we can play
with the help?”

“See,” I smiled as the waiter paused from his duties to give her a wink. “Do you see
anyone out here having sex on one of the couches? You can do this. Relax and have
fun.”

“Only if he gets to come home with me,” she said, tilting her head so she could better
assess his rounded assets. “Damn . . .”

I laughed. “First things first, my dear. You need to find your Dame. Do you remember
what her costume is?”

“Yes. She is supposed to be a white bunny,” she said, looking around the yard for
any sign of her Dame. “I hope she won’t be hard to find. I’d think a bunny would be
a fairly common costume for this place.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll find her,” I said with confidence.

“Yeah, maybe after a drink off that waiter’s platter, I would,” she said, giggling
as she gave me a little wave good-bye. She headed in the direction of the shirtless
wonder, and I couldn’t help but smile once she reached her destination.

I started making my way across the party, trying to take in the ambiance of the night
while simultaneously attempting to find my Dame. The note had said she was the Queen
of Hearts, and I could only assume that would be her costume for the night. I was
both nervous and anxious to find her.

The Dames were women who’d gone through the program successfully and were asked to
stay on for an additional two years to help the new recruits. They were sort of the
Queen Bees of the Grants—that fact made me think that the Grant program was more matriarchal
than what I’d originally believed.

From what my friend told me, all of the Dames were matched to long-term partners they’d
met while in the program. While they were not paid for their services, my friend mentioned
that they were compensated in some way. How, she wouldn’t divulge. Perhaps someday
I’d be offered the same opportunity.

As I walked around the yard, I was struck by how insanely beautiful everyone seemed
to be. The women were healthy-looking and shapely, showing ample amounts of skin in
their barely there costumes. The men were handsome and regal, with sharp features
and strong bodies. It was actually quite picturesque, something that could grace the
covers of high fashion magazines, besides the fact that everyone here was half naked.

I noticed then that the back of the yard was edged with a line of white cabanas. The
canopies on some of them were closed, and the light behind the fabric projected silhouettes
of bodies moving in a sensuous dance.

I guess there is going to be sex at this party . . .

Some of the cabanas were open and filled with different people drinking and enjoying
the party. As I made my way over, I noticed that one cabana had a tall man in a sailor
suit. The shirt was sleeveless, leaving his muscled arms bare and inviting. That was
one thing I could never resist and was a complete turn on for me—nice arms, ones that
could hold me in the air while plowing right into me.

This guy seemed preoccupied, rubbing the bronzed legs of a woman dressed as a queen.

Her dress was similar in style to the others I had seen, with a low-cut neckline that
plunged between her breasts, although her skirt was a bit fuller due to the black
petticoat that was completely visible, almost as if it was the skirt itself. The black
velvet dress was adorned with three red velvet hearts down the center. White trim
ran along the bottom edge of the skirt and up the front of the dress and attached
to a large white collar that framed her neck and head.

As I got closer, I could see how absolutely stunning she was. Her skin was perfectly
smooth, soft and warm looking. Supple, was probably the right word. The parts of her
body that were on display were perfect, rounded and trim. Her waist was small, but
fanned out to full hips and bustline. She was beautiful, and her look was topped with
a perfectly shaped, blond chignon that left her face clear.

I’d never been so attracted to a woman before, but I’d always had a certain curiosity
when it came to same-sex relations. I had kissed one woman in my life, and that was
on a dare more than any desire to do so. I’d found I liked it—a lot—but never went
any further than that. But this woman could definitely make me rethink my preferences.

She was sitting close to the sailor, whispering something to him that made him let
out a soft groan. I noticed that one of the sailor’s hands was drifting up the queen’s
skirt and he was nibbling on her earlobe as she giggled. She seemed to notice me approaching
out of the corner of her eye because she lifted her head and gave me a questioning
look.

“Hi,” I said numbly. “Um, I think I’m supposed to come find you.”

“Damn, baby,” the sailor swore, running his eyes over my entire form with a smooth
look on his face. “They sure know how to pick ’em nowadays. She’s a fox. And you get
to play with her? Hot damn . . .”

“Down boy.” The queen laughed, and I saw her push his hand from underneath her skirt.
“She just got here.”

I gave them a timid smile as she gestured me closer. At the same time, she got the
attention of one of the waiters and flagged him over. She took two goblets of white
wine off the platter and handed one to me. I took it gingerly, trying to ignore the
fact that the sailor was still eye-fucking me like an adolescent boy.

“What’s your name?” the sailor asked me in a deep timbre.

“Mady Ca—” I started to say, but was cut off the queen’s reprimand.

“No last names, Pledge,” she chastised in a sharp tone, and I immediately began to
berate myself for the slip. I knew that we were to avoid giving people our last name,
but it was almost innate when being introduced to someone. I figured I needed to be
faster on my feet when I was at the mansion, otherwise I’d be booted out for something
stupid. I gave the queen an apologetic look, feeling shy and intimidated by her no-nonsense
attitude.

“Aww, baby. You’re going to make her scared of you.” The sailor laughed. “I like her.
I think this trio is meant to be. See, we match!” He began gesturing between our two
costumes with a huge cheesy grin on his face, making him look like an eager child
rather than the overzealous horny-toad he was just minutes prior.