Cynthia woke the rest of the sorority to introduce her prisoner. The girls quickly wiped sleep from their eyes when they saw her trophy all trussed up in black nylon and displaying an unnatural level of sycophancy. 'A guy?' 'In the pledge panties?' They repeated in wonder – mischievous ideas running through each of their heads at a mile a minute. Callum could only meet their stares for a millisecond at a time but it was long enough to know he didn't like what he saw. They were excited beyond belief to put him through who knew what kinds of trials, and as long as these freaking panties were wrapped around his ass and clutching his balls, he was completely helpless to resist even a bit. He may as well have been their puppet.
“She is going to fulfil the pledge!” Cynthia announced to the gasps of excitement of her sisters. “And, as you know, that's no easy task – not even for the hottest pledge. It's now 2am. I'd say we have ten hours to turn this wannabe sweetheart here into the hottest bitch on campus!”
That's when Callum truly became their puppet. Each sister seemed to have their own idea for turning him into the perfect girl and so he spent the rest of night being dressed and undressed in outfit after outfit. He wore cheerleader uniforms, he wore party dresses, he wore ballet leotards, he wore corsets, stockings, plaid skirts – the only constant was the white panties keeping him nice and compliant the whole time. After some time, he realised they were doing more than that – even though he was effectively their doll, a dozen hot college girls dressing and undressing him should have got a reaction out of him, yet his cock just hung there, as shrivelled and limp as he felt. The sorority eventually split into teams. One group of girls continued to work on his outfit but others began to apply gels and waxing strips to remove his hair, followed by lotions and perfumes – massaging femininity deep into his skin. More girls worked on his makeup and threaded extensions into his hair and then primping and curling until it was impossible to tell where they started and his natural hair ended. Finally, they came together to settle on a pretty polka dot summer dress with built in petticoats that made Callum feel like a girl from an old story book. He was ready for the pledge.
Once he understood what he was supposed to do, it became much clearer why the sorority wanted to make sure he could pass as one of them. He was to visit every frat house of campus and hook up with their leader, reporting back to the sorority house after each one to give the girls his feedback. Callum was mortified. He couldn't do it, and yet, he couldn't not do it. In a battle of wills, he was no match for the panties, and with no resistance, he felt himself tottering to the first house on four inch heels. The fraternities were clearly aware of the pledge and the whole house came out to watch their brother take Callum in his arms and lean over him to force a tongue inside his mouth. Callum even felt a hand slip into his padded bra. It was that grope that stuck with Callum as he clumsily simpered back to the sorority and then onto the next fraternity. How hadn't the guy figured him out? The girls had performed a skilled transformation but they weren't miracle workers. As he continued towards the next house, he slipped his hand into his own bra, curious to feel what his hookup had felt. He drew back his arm in shock, a small pack of pills clutched between his fingers. The penny dropped. He wasn't a pledge, he gasped to himself – he was a drug mule.
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