Swapping Sororities

Kyler Quinn held Nicole Doshi by the arm, her grip tight. "Your idea is shit, Nicole. We don't need any more flyers." Nicole stayed quiet, jaw clenched, eyes down. Eliza Ibarra watched from across the quad with Kimmy Kimm at her side. The campus lawn looked empty. No new girls came over to either table. Nothing worked. Both leaders glanced at each other, then at their lackeys. Kyler whispered, "Go fuck them up." Eliza nodded at Kimmy, "Same." Kimmy slipped over first, stomach tight, trying to tip over the pink table. Kyler caught her mid-reach and didn't yell. She smiled instead—slow, dirty. "You want in or you want out, pretty thing?" Her fingers slid under Kimmy's jaw, pulled her in, tongue deep. Kimmy moaned before she could stop herself. Nicole, meanwhile, crept toward the blue table, but Eliza stepped out, grabbed her by the hair, kissed her hard. "Drop Kyler," Eliza hissed into her mouth. "I'll make you feel good." Nicole nodded, legs already weak. Later, both leaders stood at the quad's center, confused. "Where the fuck is she?" Kyler muttered, scanning. Eliza answered with a stare that promised murder. They found their old lackeys tangled with the wrong girls—Kimmy on her knees for Kyler, Nicole bent over a dorm bed for Eliza. The leaders' faces twisted. "You traitor bitch," Kyler snapped at Nicole. Eliza hissed at Kimmy, "She's using you." The lackeys didn't flinch. They stayed put. Kyler and Eliza swapped tactics fast—fingers traced old loyalties, tongues made promises. They went at their new girls side by side, jealous eyes flashing every time moans grew louder for the wrong mouth. Kimmy caught Kyler's stare. Nicole met Eliza's glare. Both lackeys straightened, anger hot. "Fuck this," Kimmy said. "All of us or none." The leaders hesitated, pride burning. Eliza's lips parted first. Kyler followed with a curse. The foursome started raw—no more sides, only sweat, hands, and wet heat in one messy bed. College never ran clean.