A Betty's Pledge: Volume One (2 page)

Not many outsiders knew of our system. We kept a pretty tight seal on our identity.
Those who had been rejected would sometimes threaten exploitation once they’d been
asked to leave.

And that was when we’d produce the tapes.

The images never depicted anything that the candidate had been recorded doing with
any of our brothers. Usually, it would show them pleasuring themselves over and over
again in the middle of one of our vacant rooms. It made it seem that they were perhaps
obsessed with one of our residents, having broken into our home in broad daylight
to live out some pathetic fantasy. The whistle-blower would be informed of our possession
of the incriminating footage, then would be assured that we could also obtain the
addresses of employers, mothers, or grandmothers if need be. It was never an issue
after that and our anonymity remained intact.

Some would say we were sadists, other would think we were insane. Some would go as
far as to say we were morally and ethically damned.

I couldn’t disagree more.

We were safe and all activity was consensual. And if someone looking in from the outside
were to think that we were taking advantage of our candidates, they’d be sorely mistaken.
Each woman who went through our trials thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. If they
made it through to the end and were found to be lacking that special something we
wanted to make them a permanent member, they’d leave our home with a plethora of knowledge
of the human body, and how to bring it to mind-numbing pleasure.

It was a win-win on both sides. It may be an unconventional way to find sexual compatibility,
but I couldn’t find any fault in their methods.

Until recently, that is. I’d started having my doubts, which wasn’t a good thing since
the round hadn’t even started yet. We had yet to pick the women.

I could feel myself becoming numb to it all, and that was not why I had joined this
society. In all honesty, I couldn’t remember the exact rationale behind my decision
anymore—another red flag telling me that this was my last go-around with the Betties.

I pulled up in front of the estate and parked in my usual spot. I noticed two more
cars there and realized that I was not the only brother watching the trial today.
We always had an open-door policy for observation, but most of the men who had a Dame
didn’t come to the trials. Wondering who would be joining me inside, I walked into
the large foyer and headed up the stairs toward the observation room.

“Wilson. Not surprised to see you here.”

Brad Smith, a fellow member of the Grants, acknowledged me as I stepped into the darkened
room. I noticed that a second member, Trent Newman, sat next to him. Trent had an
eager expression, staring into a vacant room behind the one-way glass, waiting for
our candidate to arrive. I nodded my greeting as I simultaneously picked up my spec
sheets from a nearby table, sifting through the different compatibility charts.

The Grant reports were thorough and precise, used to outline who our candidates were,
and how they’d been matched to our own profile. Flipping through the summary, I found
that I had been matched to two candidates this go-around: a woman named Madeline Cain
and one called Sonia Galvan. There were five pledges in total, but I showed significant
commonalities to only the two. That didn’t mean that I couldn’t choose from the other
candidates, it just pointed me in the right direction for the easiest match. In my
experience, however, the specs were often wrong.

Why else have I not been paired?

I had seen Sonia’s audition yesterday and I had to admit that I was impressed. She
was tall and fit with a long mane of shiny, dark hair. Not typically who I’d be attracted
to, but there was something about her that made me take notice. It could’ve been the
fact that she was extremely sexual—the way she climaxed made my stomach tighten in
response—or perhaps it was the fact that she had the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever
seen. Eyes that clashed against her dark hair and pale skin. Incredibly hypnotic . . .

“Here’s to hoping this one is worth our trouble,” Brad muttered under his breath as
he sifted through the next girl’s personality profile. I quirked one eyebrow, wary
about his off-the-wall comment.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you read her file, man?” he said with a sly smile. “She looks too innocent in
her pic, first of all. Plus, she’s from Taft, California. Hello, can we say ‘hick
central’? Her father was an oilfield worker, for fuck sake. She had to be sponsored
in as a pledge. When was the last time
that
happened?”

I shrugged and began flipping through the information as he continued to rant blithely.
Her profile picture was simple, a copy of her senior yearbook photo, no doubt. She
was pretty, with soft, elegant lines and good skin. But I didn’t think she could be
classified as beautiful or desirable. Sighing, I turned the page to read her characteristics
while Brad continued his speech.

“I mean, I know poor people deserve love, too, but that’s not why I joined this society.
I could find a gold digger all on my own. She’s automatically out in my book.”

“Then why are you still here?” I looked up at him from the paper listing all of Madeline’s
favorite books, television shows, and movies. Brad smiled a wicked, predatory grin
as he replied.

“I’d never miss an opportunity to see a beautiful woman get off.”

I chuckled.
Agreed
 . . .

The door to the adjacent room opened tentatively, and the three of us became hushed
as our candidate walked in. She was dressed in a simple maroon dress that wrapped
around her body, with black leather boots that came up to her knees. Very modest attire,
intended to shield her as much as possible. Her hair cascaded down the sides of her
face, hiding her from the world. Her entire demeanor screamed simplicity and purity,
and I automatically groaned in disappointment.

She gazed around the room quickly, taking in her environment before she made her way
to the small table where her instructions sat. Before she even picked up the card,
however, she downed the glass of champagne, making Trent chuckle.

“She seems to lack the confidence for this.” Brad made a note on the margin of her
file.

“She’s just nervous.” Trent sat back in his chair as he watched the girl replace the
crystal on the table and reach for her instructions. “Just because she doesn’t wear
her sexuality on her sleeve doesn’t automatically mean she’s a prude.”

Brad scoffed in disagreement, but kept his mouth shut.

I watched her face while she read her instructions, waiting for her to put them down
and flee from the room in disgust. After all, a seemingly innocent woman would find
such depravity insulting and crude. But to my astonishment, she swept her hair away
from her face and I saw a small smile curve her sensual lips.

She began to stride around the room, taking in the ambiance of it. As she did so,
I could see her visibly start to relax. She had to know that we were watching her,
but the illusion of privacy seemed to be playing its part.

She sat on the edge of the bed, looking around her lazily. Inside that room, the dresser
drawers were filled with every kind of sexual toy to bring a woman to pleasure. On
the flat screen that sat in the armoire, hundreds of pornographic movies were available
to aid the candidates in the completion of their given task.

When I had first joined the society and witnessed my first trial, part of me thought
that it was archaic and demeaning. After all, only dirty old men watch a woman masturbate
and find pleasure in it, right? My mentor quickly pointed out, however, that it was
a way to see how in tune a woman was with her own body.

Could she pleasure herself for just that reason alone—only for herself—forgetting
all other distractions? Or would a woman perform, knowing full well that the only
motivation for doing so was to prove something to another person? Basically, would
her pleasure be genuine, or just an act?

I looked at these trials much differently after that.

“What is she doing?” Brad sighed as we watched Madeline simply sitting on the edge
of the bed, not making any move to fulfill her designated assignment.

“Maybe she needs time.” Trent shrugged. “Not everyone is as ready to get off at the
drop of a hat as you, Brad.”

I chuckled when the dick in question scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest in
annoyance.

As I waited for Madeline to gain the ease she needed to continue, I quickly flipped
to her sexual profile. This was where the candidates were asked several questions
about their sexual experience and preferences, and I found myself curious as to what
her answers had been.

It looked like she’d had a few partners prior to applying and only climaxed a handful
of times by another person’s doing, which she described as being “okay”. At reading
that sad bit of information, I firmly resolved to change that statistic the first
chance I got. It wasn’t because I felt anything for her, but more a reaction brought
about mostly out of pity, unfortunately.

When asked to describe in four words what sexuality meant to her, she listed subtlety,
devotion, passion, and trust. I was surprised by the last, but quickly moved on to
learn more. She stated that she was open to different kinds of sexual experiences,
including being with women, although she was heterosexual by nature.

“Dude, she’s moving,” Trent whispered, and I looked up to see Madeline sauntering
toward the fireplace.

“Fuck, it’s about time. I feel like I’ve been watching water boil.” Brad was a douche,
but I tended to agree with him on this one. It was about damn time.

The candidate stood by the fireplace, running her hand along the thick bricks as she
let the heat of it warm her skin. Slowly, she reached to the tie on her dress and
pulled it apart. The fabric parted, leaving only a small enticement of skin visible.
The movement was so sensual that I found my pulse racing as I watched her undress,
curious to see what the demure woman wore under her clothing.

Turning from the fireplace, she let the dress open further as she moved, and it fell
in a cascade of satin to the floor. She was left in a lace bra and panty set, black
and see-through, her leather boots adding to the look perfectly. Her body was immaculate
and well proportioned. Her breasts were full, naturally balancing the curve of her
hips. The thick mane of warm blond hair was no longer covering her, but instead added
to her seduction as it swayed in time with her body as she walked. The innocence of
her face was no longer a deterrent. No, it was an invitation to discover, to explore
with
her.

She’d quoted subtlety as being a key aspect in her sexuality. I’d say she nailed that
one on the head, for I never would have expected to find something so erotic to be
hidden beneath her modest shell.

She idly gazed around the room, looking at all the toys and tools we’d procured for
her pleasure. I was excited to see what she’d find to use. I was accustomed to the
pledges opting for the vibrators and putting on a show for us so they’d pass our little
test. But I had a feeling that Madeline Cain was not acting for anyone but herself.

She ignored all the playthings and trinkets, moving toward the bed in the same lazy
manner she’d started in. I watched with rapt attention as she crawled to the center
of the bed.

Madeline started by slowly unzipping her boots. Her legs were toned, trim and longer
than I’d expected them to be for her height. Her skin had a slight sheen to it that
made it look like satin. I became jealous of her hands as they slowly made their way
up her body, teasing and rubbing the smooth skin as she ascended to her most sensitive
parts.

She paused at the apex of her thighs, using two little fingertips to tease herself
until she was moaning with pleasure. Her other hand continued up her body, pausing
at her breasts until each point was pert and ready. When her body began to visibly
tremble, she stopped and moved once again. Madeline positioned herself in the middle
of the bed and climbed under the covers, shielding herself from our perusing eyes.

“What the fuck! We can’t see anything!” Brad approached the glass and placed both
palms on it, adjusting his head as if to get a better angle. He looked like a kid
at the zoo, trying to see the snake snoozing under a rock or something.

“She’s doing what we asked her to do,” I replied, my eyes glued to the bed where the
sensual woman began sighing and moaning as she pleasured herself.

“But we can’t see anything.”

“It’s not for you, idiot.” Trent’s gaze was fixed on the room. “Look at her. My God . . .”

I watched as Madeline’s face contorted with her climax; her head was thrown back and
her body arched, shifting the covers slightly to reveal her sweaty, enticing body.
She panted and writhed as she worked herself into a frenzy again and again, each breathtaking
moment erotic and exciting because she was in her own little world, where only the
needs of her body dominated.

I watched in an awed silence as she continued well past the three we demanded from
her. Only when her needs were sated did she stop and redress.

“She stays,” I said simply, watching as Madeline Cain made her way out of the room.
I could see the other two men nod in confirmation, but I didn’t give them any acknowledgment.
I would make sure she had another chance, for the hidden sexuality in her was a force
that needed to be procured. I wasn’t sure if she was the one for me, but I could only
imagine the fun I could have finding out.