Controlling the Sorority (The Magic Remote Book 2) Read online

  Controlling the Sorority

  The Magic Remote, Volume 2

  Nadia Nightside

  Published by Midnight Publishing, 2015.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  CONTROLLING THE SORORITY

  First edition. April 23, 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 Nadia Nightside.

  Written by Nadia Nightside.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Controlling the Sorority (The Magic Remote, #2)

  Author's Note: All Characters Depicted Herein Are 18 Years Of Age Or Older.

  Your opinion influences other readers and matters quite a bit to me! If you enjoyed this sexy story, please leave a review on Amazon and let others know what you thought. I want to write what you love!

  Further Reading: Bimbo Casino: The Complete Series

  About the Author

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  Author's Note: All Characters Depicted Herein Are 18 Years Of Age Or Older.

  * * * * *

  Controlling the Sorority

  Alyssa, Kappa Phi Theta sorority house president, pushed her thick, rich chestnut locks of hair back from her face, sitting across from chemistry graduate student Rick Brandt at a table in the study on the bottom floor of the sorority house. Rick was having trouble hiding his obvious arousal at her proximity, which was a situation that Alyssa was more than used to at this point in her life.

  It was important, when she was trying to schmooze some guy, to overflirt a little. She couldn't just flirt—guys like Rick, chemistry nerds who had never had a date in their lives, wouldn't pick up on that—so she had to be completely obvious.

  This meant playing with her hair a lot, smiling and giggling at all his jokes, touching and squeezing his hands at frequent intervals, and letting her platform sandal-heeled foot slide between his brown loafers.

  Rick had tried the old tutor's tactic of placing the work in front of the student, so that she would take ownership of it. Alyssa, of course, knew all about this tactic, and knew that ownership of the work was the last thing she wanted. Feeling sly, she slid her hands across the table, letting her watch catch on the paper, and wrapped a few dainty fingers around Rick's wrist. The paper was right back in front of him, now.

  “Gee Rick,” said Alyssa, “I really thought you could do this for me. I mean, you're so smart and all. I don't think I would ever learn how to do all this science by myself.”

  The study they were in had wonderful acoustics, and Alyssa's melty, velvety voice sang off each board of the wood-trimmed room. For a study, there were not many books—mostly just thick leather couches and the one large table, with several incredibly comfortable high-backed wood chairs.

  He blushed. “Well, yes, but—”

  Her smile brightened a little, trying to be encouraging. “I know it just comes so naturally to you, this chemistry stuff. I wouldn't ask if I thought you couldn't do it. But if you're saying you can't, then . . .”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, I can do it. I can do all your homework, easily. I mean, this is only Chemistry 205. I'm a grad student. I could do this stuff in my sleep.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Alyssa bounced forward and slid her hands all the way over his. She knew the movement had allowed him to see down her tight sweater, straight the sultry line of cleavage between her firm, 36D tits. If he tried to move his eyes somewhere else, the chances of his gaze landing on her terrific bare legs—clad only in a pair of cut-off jean shorts that really were only good for covering her terrific ass—were rather good.

  “That makes me so happy, Rick.”

  “It's j-just . . .” he was staring openly now. “I'm supposed to be your t-tutor, and you . . .”

  “I know! And you'll be a great tutor by showing me how to complete all the work. I'll catch on eventually, I know it!”

  Although, she thought, Rick certainly wouldn't. And even if he did catch on to what Alyssa was doing, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from working for her. No one ever had before.

  Boys were such easy things for Alyssa. All you had to do was give out a wink here, and a squeeze there, and they'd be putty without her even needing to promise anything. All she needed to offer was the suggestion. They filled in the blanks themselves, better than Alyssa ever could.

  “I'm just so glad I have a good friend who's so good at this kind of stuff, Rick.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Well, I mean, it's just . . .”

  She leaped on his hesitation. “You are my good friend, right, Rick? That would make me really happy to know. To know that,” she let a finger dangle on top of one incredibly full breast, pretending to consider all of life, all at once, “Like, whenever I need, I have someone I can call on. For a test, or a study buddy, or even in the middle of the night, if I'm feeling all lonely.”

  “Oh . . .” his eyes widened. “Yes, Alyssa. That's me. I'm your guy. You can call me whenever. At night. You know. When you need a shoulder to lean on. Or whenever.”

  “Great!”

  She stood up, looking up at the clock. It was nearly one o'clock, and there were a lot of preparations needed still for the big party tonight.

  “Okay, well, you have to get going now. There's a lot of stuff I have to take care of.”

  “Is there um . . . a bathroom I can use . . . ?”

  Alyssa resisted the urge to wilt her nose. Seeing the pathetic bulge in his pants, she knew exactly what he wanted the bathroom for.

  “There's one down the street, a few blocks from here at the gas station.” She shrugged. “Sorry, we only have um . . . ladies bathrooms, here.”

  “In a house?”

  “I know! It's weird, huh?” she shrugged. “Anyway . . . off you go!”

  He left without further complaint, gathering up all of his materials and shuffling out the door. She watched him watching her push the chairs back in to the large study table. Every move she made was of intense fascination to her, probably getting logged at the top of his mental jerk-off rolodex. She took a sort of pride in that.

  Being a magnificent hottie, like what she was, made her life much easier by default, but what was “default” had never been good enough for Alyssa. If she was going to get hand-outs, she wanted the best hand-outs. If boys were going to give her pretty jewelry because she was attractive, she wanted the best jewelry.

  That's why she chose Rick to “tutor” her in chemistry. He was some prodigy at the school, probably going to earn the nobel prize one day. So if she was going to have someone do her homework for her, it w
ould be the best person in chemistry.

  She was worth it, she knew. Worth all of this attention. Alyssa had been winning beauty contests since she was twelve.

  By the time she was eighteen, several millionaires and foreign princes had offered up their fortunes just to spend a single night with her. She turned them down, of course—she knew that with age, she was only going to grow more beautiful, and there was no sense in cashing in on an investment when it was still peaking.

  And besides that, men and women fell all over themselves to do what she wanted anyway.

  Now, at the age of twenty-two, she ate whatever she wanted, and still maintained the picture perfect 34-18-36D body that she rocked at that very moment. Her muscles were toned and firm from years of cheerleading and gymnastics and now-daily cardio, and her hair—effortlessly thick, floating down to the middle of her back, the perfectly sexy shade of chestnut brown—just completed the package.

  The cocktail mixture of Brazilian, Russian, Native American, and Asian heritage had made her face into a work of divine beauty, or so she told herself every day, staring in the mirror.

  So for guys like Rick, she could play the helpless little girl to manipulation's sake, but she knew there was no one more powerful on the planet than a woman who knew she was gorgeous.

  The Kappa Phi Theta sorority house was the finest on the Grant University Campus. When Alyssa had arrived there in her first year, it had been a nerd's sorority. All the girls had been working hard to try and maintain some kind of educational equality with the men on the campus.

  Watching Rick leave, enjoying her control over him, Alyssa reflected on those girls from the sorority before she had arrived. knew their struggle was totally pointless. Men would fight tooth and nail for their spots on the top, and when they saw women gunning for those spots, there was bound to be trouble.

  Now in her fourth year of college, her third year as president and one year away from graduating, Alyssa had established with a firm, beautiful hand the sorority that she wanted to be in charge of. Each and every girl was eighteen years or older, eagerly working day and night to make Alyssa happy.

  The better way to gain power, the easier way, the more natural way, was just to convince men that what they wanted all along was for a woman by their side, guiding their decisions and taking all the benefits of their hard work. Alyssa, so far, had never encountered a man who wasn't happy to give up everything he had for gal that he was sweet on.

  Rick finally closed the door. Alyssa took a moment to stretch out gorgeous limbs in the large entryway of the house.

  Lots of guys were sweet on Alyssa. The last time she bothered to check, over fifty counted her as a girlfriend, and made themselves exclusive to her. She had an extra cellphone just for all the traffic they gave her.

  For each boyfriend, she arranged photographs of herself in her panties with a shirt on; the fools thought that thought that meant she was seriously liking them.

  Each and every one of them, she had convinced she was from a poor family and needed cash for rent every month so that she could stay on campus and see them once in a while.

  Meanwhile, her savings account and multiple investments in mutual funds just grew and grew.

  There were very few women on the planet that could get away with such behavior. Alyssa, though, was easily one of them. She loved being that pitch-perfect combination of gorgeous, arrogant, and cute that made men want to fuck her and serve her nonstop.

  And it was precisely because of her enormous power over men that she felt free to exercise such gleeful control over women. If men were in charge, then all she had to do was get the men on her side.

  Part of her long-reaching plans to do that involved this very night—the party she had mentioned to Rick.

  Tonight was the sorority's annual pledge party, where all the new eighteen year-old girls who had been selected as good enough to be possible members would hang out and socialize with the small, exclusive sorority.

  There, Alyssa would be observing, waiting for the slightest mistake.

  Then, she would make an example of the girl in question.

  Last year, it had been a pretty young Midwestern redhead who had made the mistake of referring to the sorority as Kappa Pi Theta instead of Kappa Phi Theta.

  Alyssa, seizing the opportunity, berated her for twenty minutes, completely verbally deconstructing her wardrobe, her hair, the cute gap between her teeth, and her freckles. The girl went home in tears, and did not even have the stomach to start her semester at Grant University.

  This sort of ritual abuse kept the other girls in line, so that Alyssa hardly had to do anything but express a desire for something before it was done for her. This was why all the boys on the campus thought she was so sweet and fun, and all the girls were deathly afraid of her.

  This was also the reason there were only twenty to thirty girls in the sorority at any given time. It was easier to keep a tight grip on something that was small. And besides—Alyssa only allowed the truly gorgeous to be in the sorority—there was no point in being in charge of anything or anyone less.

  Alyssa hopped upstairs to her room, admiring the lovely carpentry of their ornate staircase. She needed to confer with her second-in-command, twenty-one year old Giselle, about some details about the party. How many boys they needed to invite to keep the social lubricants humming, and how much alcohol to make sure they had, that sort of thing.

  Giselle had always been good with details like that, that was why Alyssa had chosen her to be her vice president. There were elections, of course, but the girls just voted how Alyssa wanted them to.

  This was also why Alyssa had allowed Giselle to be her roommate—it was good to keep a close watch on the girls who were most likely to try and take power away from her, after all. And, with as gorgeous as Giselle was, it wasn't inconceivable that she would try.

  Alyssa stepped inside her bedroom—or rather, her suite. It had its own kitchen, two bathrooms, a living room, and two bedrooms. One of the bedrooms had been converted to Alyssa's personal study—she preferred to sleep with Giselle in the room.

  She enjoyed knowing there was someone in the room with her when she slept, and she was rather sure that Giselle had a crush on her. All the better, then, to arrange for Giselle to see her naked and in her underwear as often as possible.

  In the bedroom, Giselle was in front of her large, gilded mirror, humming a tune as she brushed her thick mass of dark hair. Her smile was vacant, her eyes almost blank. Giselle had gorgeous dark skin, the kind of smooth chocolate that seemed almost edible when you were close.

  It was a little eerie looking at her as she sat and hummed and brushed her hair. In fact, Alyssa didn't even think that Giselle had registered that her roommate had arrived. This annoyed Alyssa, of course. Her presence was one to be, if not celebrated, as least gracious for.

  “Hello?” she said loudly.

  Brushing a few more times, Giselle turned slowly, that same erotic, satisfied smile on her face. The erotic nature of her smile reflected the same erotic nature of her outfit. She wore a clingy pink slip, her dark breasts practically hanging out of it. Her platform heels were easily six-inches high, made from completely transparent plastic. A little pink, ruffly collar decorated her neck.

  “Oh, hello Alyssa. It's so good to see you.”

  On the counter behind Giselle, there was a silver remote and a gold crown. Alyssa tilted her head, examining them.

  “What are those?” she pointed. “Did you get a new television or something?”

  “Those?” Giselle barely turned. “Oh. Don't worry about those. How are you, dear?”

  Alyssa didn't like having her questions avoided. She certainly didn't like being called “dear.” But if Giselle wanted to be obtuse, Alyssa felt confident she could work around it.

  “How was your morning?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Oh, it was delightful,” said Giselle. “I was with Carmen the whole time. You know, that pledge?”


  Alyssa did know. She felt Carmen had a lot of promise. A true rich, privileged snob. There was a great deal of potential she saw in that girl. Alyssa enjoyed molding young hotties into queens of seduction like herself.

  It was just too bad the girl dressed like she was Amish, locked up inside of drab, gray dresses all the time. It was like she didn't want anybody knowing she had an amazing body to advertise. Still, that was something Alyssa could work on with the girl. Men liked women that showed off.

  “Oh, right.” Alyssa said, as if remembering. Of course, she already knew that was what happened—there was very little in the house that Alyssa didn't know about. “You guys went shopping, right?”

  “Sort of. She wanted me to go meet her boyfriend, first.”

  “Meet her boyfriend?”

  “Yeah. She said it was really important to meet him to understand who she was. She felt it would improve her chances to get in to Kappa Phi.”

  This was something that Alyssa hadn't been aware of. She supposed the boyfriend was a relatively recent development—she remembered Carmen had listed herself as single on the application a few months ago, back in the middle of the summer.

  “Totally.” Giselle bit her lower lip, looking as if she was trying to hold in a shudder. “He's pretty great.”

  “What's he do?”

  “He um . . .” Giselle shrugged. “He really loves Carmen. He's just, completely good to her.”

  “No, I meant, how does he make money? Or is he a student?”

  Giselle shrugged, smiling, her eyes drifting upward.

  “He could be a student. I'm not sure really. We didn't talk about it.”

  “What's his name? Maybe I know him.”

  Or maybe she could get to know him. If he was a student, then he would be in classes, and Alyssa was always looking for new men she could convince to do classwork for her. He didn't even have to be that good at it—it was good just to have a pool of workers she could motivate.