“Of all the panties in all the world, you had to step into mine!” The girl smirked unsympathetically as Callum averted his gaze. The floor was still littered with the contents of the underwear drawer he had raided – colorful slithers of silk and spandex, alternative treasures he could have plundered. If only I had chosen one of those pairs, he thought miserably, I probably would have avoided this mess. “You probably don't remember those.” The girl continued. “They were called Prison Panties. A company called Smart Fabric released them a few years ago. They were designed to release hormones into the wearer to make them compliant and submissive. There was a full product recall when people starting using them to get people to commit crimes. Of course, we kept a few pairs around to have fun with our pledges. I never dreamed I would ever get the chance to use them on a boy...”
Callum cursed his luck. He had truly threaded the needle of misfortune. The girl hadn't introduced herself, she had other priorities from the second she laid eyes on him, but he knew who she was. She was Cynthia, leader of the Alpha-Phi-Omega sorority, and one of the baddest bitches on campus. She had also been his mission. As a college freshman and fraternity pledge, he had been tasked by his would be brothers to break into the sorority house and steal a pair of panties to hang like a victory flag from the frat house roof. His plan had started well, with summer arriving early, he had been able to slip through an open window and into the sleeping Cynthia's bedroom. He had even found her underwear drawer in the dark and selected a bright white pair of panties he knew would make an excellent trophy. That's when things started to go awry. On leaving Cynthia's room, he had got turned around in the corridor and to his horror, he heard the very girl he was here to steal from exiting her bedroom. Acting on impulse, Callum slipped through an open door to his left – the bathroom, realising too late that it was almost certainly where Cynthia was headed. If she caught him with the panties, the game was certainly up. He knew she would search his pockets and so he rapidly put them the one place he hoped she wouldn't look – on his body. The soft white engineered fabric started to take effect so quickly he never even got his jeans back on.
“You know you're not the first boy I have had in my bedroom,” Cynthia looked him up and down, “but you've definitely brought me the most pleasure.” Callum never did get his jeans back. He hadn't even had the chance to hope for them. From the second the white material had touched his skin, he had felt a change coming over him – a feeling like a crushing weight that broke any resistance in him. It was a ball and chain, holding him in place and filling him with weakness. He had been helpless to stop Cynthia putting him in his new clothes. He probably would have done it himself if she had asked. He had just sat there silently as she slid the nylons up his legs, squeezing him into the tight black hotpants that crushed his balls, meticulously painting his face with her makeup, applying the costume wig to his head.... When at last he again stood, it was to test his balance on the heeled boots Cynthia had tied to his feet. He wanted to beg forgiveness, but he couldn't do that so destroyed was his resolve. “You know?” She said. “You put on our pledge panties! You put them on willingly! I think that makes you a pledge, don't you?” Callum couldn't even bring himself to disagree.
