unlikely pledge

 

 The decision to not go to college back when I was just getting out of high school was easy. The money to pay for college wasn’t available at the time. My father had left my mother and I when I was just four years of age and in spite of Mom’s best efforts our existence had never been more than lower middle class. She’d had to work more than one job almost my entire life in order to make ends meet and there just wasn’t any money for me to head off for four more years of school. Worse yet, my grades in high school were less than stellar and as a result there were no financial aid or scholarship funds out there to aid in any effort I might have made to seek out higher education.

So right after graduation I sought employment and found work in various low-paying jobs at which I gave my all. 17 years later I was still slaving away in the working world, earning a bit more thanks to some skills I’d acquired through hard work, but the long-term outlook had not been one involving anything other than continued long hours for relatively low rewards.

That was until that fateful Friday when I bought some lottery tickets, something I would not normally do. The gigantic jackpot in excess of 150 million dollars had been the reason I was willing to risk a few of my hard-earned dollars but even then I would not spend much or engage much hope in winning any kind of large prize. I happened to get home in time for the drawing and sat there in amazement as the numbers from the top line of my ticket were read off one after another.

It would make this into a better story if I could relate having fainted or broken into tears as the final number was read and it became clear that even if I had to split this jackpot with others I was still going to be rich beyond my wildest dreams. When it turned out that I held the only winning ticket, it just got better. But the truth is that I did not have any great, extraordinary reaction to winning this prize. After all, it was less than a year since I’d had to bury my hard-working mother and there just wasn’t anyone for me to share this amazing good fortune. The cancer that had ravaged my mother had taken some time to work its horrible cruelty on her body and mind and we had suffered together during her final months. I could probably spend some of this new money on locating the man who had donated the other half of the genetic material that went into my makeup but I had no desire to share this newfound wealth with someone who had abandoned my mother and me when I was just a child.

* * * * *

So once I got the great big check, I put the more than 80 million dollars into the hands of a highly recommended investment advisor, keeping a few million in banks so it would be available for easy use/access. I bought a home in a suburban neighborhood and of course, quit my job. Why work when there was more money than I could ever spend just waiting for me at the local bank?

It was my next door neighbor’s son returning home for the winter holiday break from his college on the other side of the country that gave me the idea that I could now do what I had wanted to do so many years earlier. I could go to school and get a decent education, perhaps in finance in order to help manage my large fortune. Also, I might better understand the words my investment advisor threw around when discussing his plans to turn my money into more money, although my only real goal was to have the bulk of the money earn enough to live on for the rest of my life, even if it meant spending some of the actual funds from the big prize.

So I started checking out colleges and by the following fall I was enrolled at a large university in another state. I had a full schedule of classes, an apartment in a nice building near the campus and marveled at the beauty of the young co-eds that were everywhere on campus. I’d never had much success with the opposite sex and now I was surrounded by women that were clearly unavailable to me. I was an old man compared to the guys who were competing for these beautiful girls. I wasn’t going to flash my wealth in order to get a girl interested in me, since that kind of relationship would never be sustained by real feelings.

That meant all I had were my studies and whatever other interests I managed to find to occupy my time. So I studied, did my homework and spent a few hours a week volunteering at a local home for senior citizens. It was my way of giving back to the community that had made me wealthy without just writing checks. Giving my time was more valuable to those older people than any money I might have donated. It was seeing their faces light up when I shared my time with them that made it worthwhile.

* * * * *

It was just after the winter break during my first year in college that I encountered Nancy Sullivan in the student cafeteria. It was long after the lunch rush had crowded the cafeteria and there were only a few students there along with me, studying or eating a late meal. I was doing both. Nancy was working on something in a corner table but I caught her looking at me a few times. Finally she came over.

“You’re Brad Thomas, right?”

“Yes. We have a history course together, which I was surprised to see you in, since it is a freshman section and I know you’re a junior.”

“Yeah, I skipped taking it my freshman year and now I’m stuck taking it at a time when I’d rather be focused on my core courses for my major. It isn’t my best subject and actually I could use a little help from you. You seem to know everything during the discussions in class.”

“I’d be happy to help. How do you want to work this?”

* * * * *

Thanks to that little encounter, I started spending two hours a week with Nancy, in the same cafeteria at the same table.

I tutored her a little in the history course we were both taking but most of the time we would discuss what was going on in our lives at college. She talked a lot about her sorority, Kappa Delta and the activities of the girls. She said that they had taken in a nice group of girls in the fall rush this year and she was looking forward to next year’s rush already since she would be a senior and was in the running to be the rush chairperson.

I told her about my other classes, my volunteer work at the senior’s home and how I sometimes got bored and felt overwhelmed by the college experience because so much of it wasn’t really available to me thanks to my age. I had missed out on a lot of what the younger set did at my school, particularly the drinking and partying. I was older, had “sowed my wild oats” and that was the precise reason I had not looked into the fraternity life. I’d seen the movies, I knew that frat houses were filled with drunken parties, carousing and lots of casual sex. The last two were just not part of who I had become in my life, particularly since I now had to worry that someone might be trying to get closer to me because of my bank balance rather than who I was.

Then a few weeks into our tutoring meetings, Nancy said something that struck me as kind of strange. She said “You know, aside from the fact you aren’t a girl, you’d be a perfect pledge for rush next fall for my sorority. You have high grades, you’re fun to talk to and you believe in community service. I almost wish you were a girl so I could recruit you.”

Aside from the fact that it made it very clear to me that any secret false hopes I might have had about someday being romantically involved with Nancy were totally doomed, her statement made me wonder just what was going on in her devious mind when that comment popped out. I wasn’t going to suddenly sprout breasts and undergo a spontaneous sex change in the school cafeteria, nor was I a candidate to fly off to Sweden or Switzerland or wherever people who want sex change surgery fly off to.

Then I watched some silly movie in my apartment one evening where a group of guys were expelled from their frat and they had to pretend to be girls and to pledge a sorority filled with the ugliest girls on campus. Except that they were merely girls who weren’t putting any effort into their appearance and at some point the guys involved changed that and suddenly the real girls in this “loser” sorority were gorgeous, popular and the guys had learned that who you were and what you stood for were more important than chugging beers.

So I decided to ask Nancy if there was some way I could visit her sorority in whatever areas of the house were public, to get a better appreciation for what they did. I told her that what had prompted my request was because they had impressed me with their commitment to service and I was thinking about making a small donation to their next fundraising drive.

She agreed and the following Saturday, during daytime hours invited me to come over and take a tour of the public areas. I arrived on time and was amazed at how beautiful the house, the girls and the furnishings were. It was like taking a tour of a palace. Of course I promised a check for their next fundraiser and told Nancy that she was right, it was a shame I wasn’t a girl or I would be rushing her sorority that fall. She looked quizzically at me for a moment and then smiled and told me that within the house I should be careful, that was the kind of wish if whispered too loudly, might be granted.

* * * * *

Hard work pays off and in the long run what you put into something will directly impact what you end up getting out of it. I gave my schoolwork my total effort that fall and spring and the result was report cards with straight A’s on them. Nancy got A’s in the history class we shared both semesters and was very, very happy. In fact, right after school let out in June she gave me a thank you card. Inside was a handwritten invitation to become an honorary KD girl and an invitation to dinner in the house in a couple of weeks when most of the girls would be gone for the summer.

How could I refuse? That is how I wound up sitting at the big dining room table in the sorority house, all alone with Nancy. I was wearing a nice suit and tie and she was wearing a pretty, white dress. After dinner she told me to be very quiet and led me upstairs to her private room.

Inside her room she had me get undressed and I began to get a little nervous. She told me to relax, that we were just going to have a little fun with some make-up and a wig. “My next door neighbor has a sister who is about your size and I borrowed a white dress from her that should fit you. I’m going to doll you up with makeup and a wig and then give you your honorary initiation into the sorority. It’s my way of thanking you for helping me with my grades, but don’t tell anyone. I’m going to break a rule by sneaking you into the initiation chamber room.”

* * * * *

But before she would sneak me into that secret room within the “house”, she insisted that we do as much as possible to make me look the part of an initiate. When I balked slightly at the idea of removing my body hair, Nancy pouted for a moment and any resistance I might have mounted against what she had planned that night melted at the site of her tears.

So once we were in her private bathroom and she told me to strip, I meekly complied. Soon I was as naked as I’d been on the day I’d been born and she spent the next few minutes slathering some kind of lotion all over my body.

The lotion turned out to be a hair remover and she had me stand there for nearly fifteen minutes while it did its work. It also itched like crazy and I was very happy to get into the shower at her direction when the requisite time had passed. However, as I watched all of my body hair sliding off of my skin as the warm shower water washed over me, I was struck by a different sensation. It was fear.

That passed as the warm waters washed over my now very soft and smooth skin. Nancy handed me a bottle of something and instructed me to use it to wash as much of my body as I could reach. As I did, whatever she’d handed me this time was making the skin softer and smoother.

After I was done in the shower and she’d dried me off with some towels, Nancy handed me a great big pink robe in plush cotton and told me to put it on. Of course I did. Then she led me to her vanity and made me sit down facing away from the mirror. “I don’t want you to see the product until I’m all finished making you into a beautiful KD sister.

A creamy foundation was rubbed onto my face and she dabbed, rubbed and smoothed it out until it felt like the skin on my face was firm and taut. If I could have seen it at that moment I would have probably gotten even more nervous, given my new “peaches and cream” complexion.

Of course, Nancy wasn’t nearly satisfied or finished with what she’d done thus far. She added blush to what she described as the “apples of my cheekbones”, highlighting this area with a healthy, pinkish glow. Then she added color to my lips, first outlining them with a pencil, then brushing on a color and waiting for it to dry. Once it was completely smooth and dry, she brushed some shiny gloss on top of the color. “The gloss really makes that stain shine, although thanks to this new lip stain, the color won’t come off until I take it off.”

As she fitted the long, blonde wig to my head and began pinning it in place with what seemed like dozens of bobby pins, she looked at my strangely. “Brad, you’re going to think this strange, but did you lose some weight during this semester at school? You look smaller now than I’ve ever noticed”

I shrugged my shoulders and it was then I noticed that the big pink robe was no longer fitting so tightly. In fact I was practically swimming in it. I had no idea what was going on and I was in for more strange happenings after Nancy was finished with my makeup and wig, and she wanted to dress me in the clothes she’d arranged to fit me.

The problem was that they were now too big. The bra wasn’t tight against my chest and in fact, just looked too big as Nancy first started to fasten it and then tossed it aside. “We’ll try one of mine” she said and walked over to her dresser drawer. She pulled out one of her own sets of panty and bra and brought it over to me and helped me into both of the silky items.

Then things got really strange. We both watched in amazement as slowly but steadily my chest expanded to fill her bra with pretty, perky breasts. As that went on, she led me to a mirror so I could get a better view of the changes as they happened.

My waist narrowed. My new breasts grew as did the hair of the wig on my head. Before it had fallen just down to the shoulders and now it was down to the middle of my back. Worse yet, as I tugged at it, it felt like my own hair and neither Nancy nor I could find any of the pins she’d used earlier to pin it.

The final changes were some general softening of my shape into a more curvy form as the bulge that had been present in the pair of Nancy’s panties I was wearing slowly disappeared. It was as though my manhood had chosen to abandon me, riding off into the sunset as a newfound femininity took over.

I went over to where my slacks had been before all of this had started and discovered that my clothes were gone and in their place was a lovely Kate Spade purse. Inside was a lovely wallet that contained a driver’s license with a photo of how I looked now, the name Brandi Thomas and a great big F under the sex category. It was no longer my own date of birth, I’d gone from middle aged to the tender age of nineteen.

I wanted to rip off the clothes and makeup, but something prevented me from doing so. When I started, a voice came out of nowhere, a deep but clearly female voice that said “This is what happens to those who conspire to share our secret rituals and information with men. Those men who wish to enter our hallowed halls are made acceptable by the sorority by changing them into young ladies so they are suitable for initiation. Dress the initiate and you will find that the sisters are gathered in the Hall of Initiation to make her a full-fledged member of our sisterhood.”

The reason Nancy had worn a white dress and heels was now apparent and it was into her own closet she went to withdraw another white dress and another pair of heels. Soon I was properly attired for an initiation ceremony, which was going to make me a sister of this sorority and apparently there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I know because I tried. As we walked out of Nancy’s room, our high heels clicking loudly on the wood floors of the hallway, I tried heading for the exit. I quickly discovered that there was no way I could escape. I found myself unable to walk in any direction but towards the Hall of Initiation. Worse yet, the sensation of my silk dress rubbing against the suntan pantyhose that Nancy had insisted I wear was a constant reminder of my transformed status, a man who had somehow wandered into somewhere and something he probably should have stayed away from in order to save that manhood.

* * * * *

As much as I wish I could describe the events of that evening and the rest of the initiation ritual that I went through, I cannot. As an initiated sister of the Kappa Delta sorority I am sworn to secrecy concerning such things. And since I did go through the entire initiation process, I am an initiated sister of KD.

But there is much more to the story. I spent a weekend and then a week living as a member of the sorority. I was accepted as just another girl and sister the entire time and it was an amazing experience.

Then I went to bed one night and woke up in my old apartment, returned to my normal self. There was a note from Nancy.

“Brad,

I had no idea of the risks I was taking when I tried sneaking you into the sorority or what would happen. I was finally able to convince the powers that be, the alumni who were responsible for what happened to you that you were a good person and should be returned back to your life. I was punished, but that’s not important. What is important is that you are no longer something you weren’t supposed to be and I’m grateful for that.

While I will undoubtedly see you around the campus, now that you are back to normal, I am supposed to avoid any unnecessary contact. So if I seem to avoid you, it isn’t because I am being rude or no longer think of you as a friend. I am doing what I have to do in order for you to keep your old life and for me to avoid any further punishments.

Be Well,

Nancy

P.S. While you are now back to your old self, there is a part of you that is an initiated sister of Kappa Delta. You must not tell anyone about our secret rituals or divulge any other secrets of the sorority or it will be you who is punished and the alumni are watching you closely.”

It was great to be back to normal but there was just one problem. I had enjoyed being nineteen again. I had actually enjoyed being a pretty girl. I wouldn’t have admitted it to a single living soul, but there were many attractive facets of the life I had lived for one of the best weeks of my life. Worse yet, I’d been told that I would no longer have access to that life or the sisters who had been my new, closest friends.

As time passed I tried losing myself in my studies but there was a feeling of emptiness inside of me that I couldn’t get rid of. At first I tried some simple cross-dressing in my apartment’s privacy. I couldn’t quite get the look right of course, as my figure didn’t have the curves, narrow waist or flat tummy that Brandi had possessed. Worse yet, my skill at applying makeup had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and my best attempts in my apartment were quite clown-like in appearance.

I tried adding high heels, but aside from the fact they were gigantic for my big feet, they just didn’t look right. I was currently my lifelong height of five foot eleven, while as Brandi I’d been a very cute five foot five, reaching up four inches higher when I had my highest heels on.

I then tried taking part in on-line chats pretending to be female, using a false name and email address. I had learned enough in my week as Brandi to successfully impersonate a female. The conversations were a bit more fulfilling but still left that big emptiness in my soul.

Finally I gave in and called Nancy’s cell when I knew she wouldn’t be in the sorority house. She agreed to meet me in our old spot in the cafeteria to talk, but only for a few minutes.

* * * * *

She was waiting when I arrived and it was apparent she wasn’t too pleased by my request or presence. “Nancy, I’m sorry that I had to ignore your request to avoid you but I really, really need to talk to you.”

“About what, Brad? What is so darn important that you had to risk my future in the sisterhood on this meeting? I just don’t understand what could possibly be so important.”

“I’ll try to explain but if you would rather just go now I would understand. It is just that I’ve been so miserable ever since that magical night that I learned so much about you and your sisterhood.”

“How can you have been miserable? Your life is back to what it was. You weren’t forced to continue as a member once the alumni felt you had paid penance.”

“I’ve been miserable because for the first time in my life I felt “free” as Brandi. It was an amazing experience and I have felt tortured ever since. Being Brandi was fun, exciting, a whole new way of life for me. I miss it terribly. I’ve tried to find ways to fill the void, dressing up in women’s clothing, pretending to be a woman in on-line chat rooms but those things make me feel worse, not better. I miss being Brandi.”

“Oh my God, I had no idea. I wonder if…”

Her voice trailed off and I asked “Wonder if what?”

“I wonder if the alumni know what you are feeling and if your real punishment is being forced to live this life that you no longer enjoy. It would fit into their view of justice, especially since they think you’re more to blame for what happened than I am.”

“I was curious, but I didn’t want to violate any trusts or break any rules. I just wanted to know more.”

“You learned more too, didn’t you? You learned more than you needed or wanted to know.”

“All I know now is that I wish I could go back to that night and promise that I would do everything in my power to be a good sister and keep things as they were that night, forever.”

“I will talk to my alum advisor and see what she says. Meanwhile, just go on doing as you’ve been doing, except cut out the pretend stuff. It isn’t a good idea to pretend to be something you’re not.”

“True, but at the moment there is a part of me that’s pretending to be Brad, knowing that this portion is really a 19 year old girl named Brandi. That’s the pretending I’m doing now and I hate it with a passion.”

“Do your best to put on a happy face and you’ll get through this. I know that it is difficult for you now, but you have to hold on until we can figure out how to solve this problem.”

With that she stood, kissed me on the cheek and walked away.

* * * * *

The online pretending stopped that night but the dressing was something I just felt needed to continue. I wouldn’t step outside of my apartment at all while in “femme” but continued to try to perfect my ability to dress up and make up.

I don’t know if it was a good thing that I didn’t improve all that much. Oh, I looked more like a real girl and less like a clown when it came to makeup, as time passed. I even managed to lose a little weight so I wasn’t quite so oversized compared to how I had looked as the real Brandi. However, whenever I was fully dressed and made up as a girl and I looked at myself in a mirror all I could think about was how pretty and perfect I had been and how I wished to once again be that girl. All girl. Sorority sister and who knows, someday a frat’s sweetheart girl.

One night I even dreamt about being Brandi in a scenario that seemed almost too real. I was with my sisters at a party and suddenly I began to feel ill. Cramps hit me and they were the worst I’d ever known. What was this malady that struck like lightning and made me want to curl up in a ball and just lay in bed until it had passed? I went to use the ladies room and discovered the truth all by my self. It was my first period and boy was it a painful mess. I had awakened from that dream a sweaty mess, with pains in my own midsection.

* * * * *

That was the last time I dreamt of being Brandi. My dressing up began to occur less frequently and finally stopped altogether. I neither heard from or saw Nancy for the rest of the semester or during that summer break. I was on vacation in July when something happened to change my approach to missing this new life that I still wanted very badly although I no longer dreamt about it.

I was walking in a park when I happened to pass a boy playing catch with his father. Not that unusual a scene until the boy dropped one of his father’s tosses. The boy was upset and the father rushed over to comfort his young son. “Don’t worry about dropping one” he said. “What is important is that you try your best and if there is something you see that you want you go for it and do everything and anything you can to achieve your goals or desires. You have to try your best, even if you fail. I promise if you just keep trying, you’ll not only catch the ball, but those few times you drop it won’t stop you from being a happy person.”

Right then and there I decided that if I missed that other life that much then I needed to grab the bull by the horns, or in this case, the girl by whatever didn’t cause pain to use as a lever. That night, on my laptop in my hotel room, I went to the university’s “Greek” website and registered for sorority rush for the fall. Then I emailed Nancy and told her that not only had I signed up for sorority rush, but her sorority was the only one I was interested in rushing, although because of the way the process works, I couldn’t make a firm decision about anything. I would have to be exposed to all of the sororities seeking new sisters.

I got an email back from my registration and it contained all of the info about sorority rush, including the schedule of rush week, a list of suggested attire from the various events and a note of welcome to the Greek world. I also got another from the dean who oversaw the Greek community at my university, advising me to see her before registration for classes.

Abigail Donna Garritson-Myers was the Dean of something or other (actually she was Dean of Student Activities but I’d forgotten that when I was ushered into her office by her attractive administrative assistant. She stood up from behind her desk and offered me her hand. Her handshake was firm, strong and yet still feminine.

“Shall I call you Brad, or would you prefer Brandi?” I managed not to faint, but I must have blushed. I’ll never know. “I know all about you, I am one of your sisters although I am obviously an alumni member. I was involved with what you did that night in the house, what happened to you afterwards and the punishment that Nancy received. Go on, sit down, we have more to discuss.”

So I sat down and she continued. “We were certain that you were to blame for the trespass you committed in our house but as time went on and you avoided Nancy and the house we began to suspect otherwise. Finally Nancy confessed, even though it could have meant her expulsion from the sisterhood. She may still be expelled, but we are feeling much more merciful about this event than we were originally since it is clear now that it wasn’t a male led effort to expose the secrets of the sorority.” She paused for a moment as I tried not to squirm in my seat. “The question now is what do we do with you? Clearly you miss being a part of us and since you were a sister, however you came to be part of the group, I have a duty to you to aid you in your time of pain. But at the same time I can’t completely ignore the fact that you came to be part of our group through improper means”

“So what are you going to do with me? I signed up for rush in an attempt to get back into KD.”

“And so you did. While as Brad you’d be laughed out of rush, since I’m going to arrange it so you become Brandi from tomorrow morning until rush is complete. But once this is done, Brandi you will be, even if no sorority offers you a bid. Are you prepared to gamble your desired femininity that a sorority will take you in?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Temporarily, you will be removed from the roll of initiated sisters of KD. You will be a true pledge during rush and you will have to earn a bid. If you earn a bid from KD, you will be re-initiated. However, if KD does not offer you a bid and another sorority does, you will have to accept that bid and become a sister of that group. Once that happens, you will remain Brandi forever. On the other hand, if no sorority takes you in, you will merely remain Brandi until the following year, when you can go back to being Brad, or try rush again. However, be warned. If you finish school as Brandi, without joining any sorority, the day after you graduate you will revert to being Brad, forever.” With that, she handed me a guide to sorority rush week and before I could open it I felt something like a cold wind blowing all over me. When it was finished blowing, I was once again Brandi.

“This time the change extends to everything and everyone except Nancy. She is available to assist you during the time from now through the end of rush week. The best advice I can give you is to be yourself throughout the process. The best you that you can be. Do not try to be something you aren’t and I will see you in three weeks.”

* * * * *

Two weeks of registration and classes as Brandi flew by, as did the incredibly busy week known as “Rush”. On Bid night I sat in my apartment, wondering what was going to happen. Then a messenger came by. I received bids from four sororities, but not one from KD. I was crushed. Yes, I was Brandi, and I could remain so forever, but to pledge another sorority meant I would be excluded from the sisterhood I had shared with Nancy forever as well. I called Nancy and she came over.

“Nancy, I have to make an awful choice. I have to pledge a sorority that isn’t KD and I will remain Brandi forever. I don’t want to be in any of these sororities, I want to be a sister of KD. It is where I belong.”

“We know. That’s why your bid to KD had to be hand-delivered, by your big sister. Me. Do you think we would really let you join some other sisterhood when you were already part of ours? This was just a little test to make sure you truly wanted to re-join us. Since you do, grab your purse and come with me, we just have enough time to get you over to the house for a real initiation.”

I felt something washing over me again and whatever it was, the memories of being Brad suddenly faded into the back of my mind. As I grabbed my purse and my coat I knew that from this moment on, Brad no longer existed. Only Brandi remained and she was very happy at this turn of events. As she walked smoothly on her heels toward the door and into the future as a properly initiated member of her chosen sorority, the rightness of this decision was plain to see on her face.

EPILOGUE: Three years later, the most popular sister in the KD House was elected president of the sorority for the upcoming fall. Brandi Thomas was almost a unanimous choice as everyone felt she would be a wonderful president. No one was prouder of her than Nancy, her big sister when she’d first joined the sisterhood.