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."