Date: Tue, 19 Jun 2018 22:21:10 -0400
From: umpjones@aol.com
Subject: Pledging Alpha Delts Chapter 4

Week 2: Thursday's Tarzan & Jane Mixer

Thursday rolled around and as we rolled into the house from classes on
campus, each one of us found a paper lunch bag with our name on it in the
apartment.  Each bag contained one piece of black string about 3-4' long
and a cheetah print cloth measuring an even 5" x 5" square.  One side had
two small holes in the corner.  A small index card read: You may only tie
the string once – it may not be cut.  This is your waiter uniform and
party attire for tonight.  Guests arrive at 5:30pm for dinner.  Your name
for tonight is `Cheetah' like the chimp.

Sure enough, 5:30pm on the dot cars started to pull up in the driveway.  I
swear, they had to be sitting down the street to be so punctual.  Of course
out we went to open the car doors and serve as valets for all the sisters
of Chi Omega.  The square piece of cloth offered just enough coverage as
long as one wasn't moving.  With each stride, whether walking or running
(running was worse), the cheetah print cloth bounced up with our cocks
giving quick glimpses of each pledge's package.  Our butts were completely
exposed as the one piece of string was simply tied around our waste.
Somehow the jockstraps seemed not so bad in comparison to the cheetah
cloth.

The sisters and a few brothers relished during dinner in constantly
dropping silverware on the floor and yelling "Cheetah! Get over here."  It
offered an opportunity for us to run and have our cocks and balls bounce
around for all to see.  And it wasn't only dropping silverware.  Refills on
drinks and requests for seconds were more great ways for us to serve the
brothers and sisters while showing off.

Dinner was wrapping up.  We cleared the dishes and began to clean the
kitchen when Brent hollers "Cheetahs, line up along the walls facing the
center of the room.  Arm length apart."  We quickly scurried and found
places along the walls and stretched our arms out to make sure we were
sufficiently spaced.  A few of the sisters had left but most remained in
the seated at the tables.  "On my count, begin jumping jacks" said Brent.

"One, Two, etc..." he counted.  He counted all the way to 100.  Phones were
produced in mass as the picture taking, videoing and snap-chatting began.
Twenty-one well built college freshmen doing 100 jumping jacks; cocks &
balls bouncing only occasionally getting covered by a 5x5" square of cloth.
It wasn't enough to provide any sense of covering.

As the sisters left following our 100 jumping jacks, Travis spoke up with
directions for prepping the main room, den and hallways for tonight's
mixer.  He also locked the deadbolt on our apartment door. A mixer is a
party usually between a fraternity and a sorority.  Sometimes held at a bar
or off-campus location, but mostly were held at the fraternity house.
Decorations, music (DJ or band), dancing, and alcohol provided the
atmosphere for the mixer.  It almost always led to sex somewhere.  Only as
pledges, we were forbidden from having sexual relations of any type.

We were told we could not partake in the mixer.  We were to serve and
entertain the guests throughout the evening and night and to remain in our
cheetah uniform.  Brothers living out of the house and the sisters began
showing up around 9:30pm.  We parked cars as they went inside to pre-game
before the event started around 11pm.  It seemed as if each driver and
passenger took a friendly swat to our butts...not an out-right spanking but
not a love pat either... just enough to add a little color to skin where
the sun didn't shine.

The ass smacks were the theme for the night.  I know I easily had 100 hands
hit each cheek; we all did.  But it really wasn't too bad as there were so
many people in the main room we weren't really able to run.  It was also
dark enough with the main lights turned off in favor of the lighting from
the band and mood lighting.  I was bringing a fresh pitcher of beer to a
group in the den when I passed Sam.  He seemed to be missing something –
his cheetah cloth.  He had a weird look on his face.  I figured either the
string came untied or it broke and somewhere on the floor was his 5x5"
piece of cloth.

I dropped off the pitcher and got instructions to refill another as they
were involved in a spirited game of chase quarters.  Chase quarters was a
drinking game where you tried to bounce a quarter off the table and into a
shot glass.  The person opposite you at the table tried to do the same.
The object was to make your shot and then pass to one's left.  If both
quarters/shot glasses caught up to the same person, that person had to chug
the pitcher of beer.

As I headed back across the room, I latterly bumped into three sisters.
They blocked my path enough that I had to stop.  As we were body to body
trying to side-step one another, I felt a thin cold piece of metal hit my
lower back.  Before I could even flinch or turn, I heard the snip over the
music and felt what Sam had felt not too long ago.  What covering I had was
now gone.  And just as fast as they had appeared in front of me, they were
gone along with my cloth.  I was frozen just standing there with a empty
beer pitcher in my hand with no clue what to do.  Then a hand lay upon my
shoulder.  It belonged to my pledge brother Landon.

His hand was enough to jar me back to reality.  I glanced down to see he no
longer had his cheetah cloth either.  "Just accept and continue.  Don't
want to get in trouble for not doing something right or fast enough" said
Landon.  He was right.  I headed to the back porch where the kegs resided.
Pledge brothers Ronnie and Zack were there filling cups of beer for people
waiting.  They too were without their cheetah cloth.  There were only
sisters in line.

As Ronnie and Zack would turn to hand the beer, the sister would step back,
phone in hand and snap a quick pic of her man-servant.  I filled the
pitcher and began to walk away thinking I would escape the photo-op but
nope.  "Hey cheetah, stand for us and smile."  I had no idea who actually
said it but I did as told, beer pitcher in my right hand and a smiling
smirk on my face.  Clicks and flashes were numerous.  "Put that beer
down. All three of you stand together with hands on your hips.  We want a
group shot" said one of the seven or so there.  Compliance was met and
after another round of clicks and flashes, I left to bring the beer pitcher
back to the folks in the den.

Along the way, a made out camera flashes around the edge of the room and
toward the front of the house.  It was evident we all had to be naked by
this time and were once again the subject of a few hundred pictures and
snap-chats to be seen all around campus and beyond.  I alone probably had
50 or so pictures taken.  The band concluded around 2am and those that were
still there dispersed to their rooms or cars and headed back to campus.

Brent came down the stairs dressed only in his boxers.  I guessed he was
done fucking his girlfriend.  He headed to our apartment door and unlocked
the deadbolt.  As Jerry was the closest, he got the instructions of 1) you
will sleep as you are 2) cleanup must be completed by noon and 3) home
football game on Saturday at 3pm so meeting tomorrow at 7pm following
dinner with game day instructions.  As Brent headed back to the stairs to
go to his room and probably fuck or at least get blown, he reminded us all
"to work on our brother books tomorrow and this weekend and to be ready for
Sunday night's test on the fraternity.  Night maggots."