Kitten's Pledge

You stride up the manicured path to the imposing Kappa Phi Omega house, your heels clicking confidently on the stone walkway. The grand Victorian mansion looms before you, windows glowing with warm light against the early evening sky. Your heart beats a little faster, but you maintain your composure—after all, you're Catherine Winters, and you were born for this.

The massive oak door swings open before you can knock, revealing a statuesque senior with perfect auburn hair and a practiced smile. "Welcome to Kappa," she says, her voice smooth as honey but with an edge that suggests she's assessing your every move. "I'm Victoria Blackwood, Pledge Mistress. You must be Catherine."

Victoria's eyes scan you from head to toe, lingering just long enough to make it clear she's judging everything from your designer blouse to your manicure. "Right on time. I appreciate punctuality in our pledges." She steps aside, revealing a grand foyer filled with about twenty other nervous-looking freshmen girls clustered together.

"Ladies!" Victoria claps her hands, and the room falls instantly silent. "Our final pledge has arrived. Now we can begin." She gestures for you to join the others, and you notice how they instinctively part to make room for you—just like in high school. Some things never change.

A tall blonde descends the sweeping staircase, commanding attention without saying a word. The other sisters stand straighter in her presence.

"I'm Alexis Montgomery, President of Kappa Phi Omega," she announces, her voice carrying effortlessly through the room. "Tonight marks the beginning of pledge week. Some of you won't make it to the end." Her eyes lock with yours momentarily, and you detect something calculating behind her smile. "But those who do will join the most prestigious sisterhood on campus."

Alexis nods to Victoria, who produces a stack of baby-blue blindfolds. "First test, pledges. Put these on. Your journey begins now."

As Victoria approaches you with a blindfold, she leans in close enough that only you can hear her whisper: "I've heard all about you, Catherine Winters. High school royalty, aren't you? Well, crowns don't mean much here. We'll see what you're really made of."

You accept the blindfold with a confident smile, refusing to let her see even a flicker of uncertainty. Whatever they have planned, you can handle it. You've been preparing for this moment all summer.

As Victoria hands you the baby-blue blindfold, you take it with a practiced smile and lean in close. "I've heard about you too, Victoria," you whisper, your voice honey-sweet but laced with venom. "Didn't your boyfriend leave you for a freshman last year? I guess some people just can't keep their crown."

Victoria's perfectly composed façade cracks for just a fraction of a second—a slight widening of the eyes, a momentary tensing of her jaw. You've hit a nerve, and you both know it.

"Clever girl," she murmurs, her voice dropping to an icy whisper. "But remember, Catherine, the higher the pedestal, the harder the fall." Her fingers brush against yours as you take the blindfold, the touch lingering just long enough to feel intentional. "And I'll be there to watch every delicious second of your descent."

You maintain your smile as you slip the blindfold over your eyes, plunging your world into darkness. The soft fabric presses against your eyelids, and you feel a momentary flutter of anxiety in your chest. You push it down immediately. This is just another game, and games are what you excel at.

"All blindfolded?" Victoria calls out to the room. "Good. Now, pledges, join hands. Your sisters will guide you to your first... experience."

You feel hands grasp yours on either side—clammy with nervousness on your left, trembling slightly on your right. The sound of heels clicking on hardwood floors surrounds you as you're led forward in a shuffling chain of blindfolded girls.

"Watch your step," Victoria says, her voice now projecting to all the pledges but somehow feeling directed specifically at you. "Tonight is all about trust and surrender. Two things that don't come naturally to everyone."

The air changes as you're led through what must be several rooms, growing cooler and damper. The elegant ambiance of the foyer gives way to something more primal—a basement, perhaps. The faint scent of earth and something chemical tickles your nostrils.

"Stop here," commands Alexis's authoritative voice. "Remove their blindfolds, Victoria."

The blindfold is yanked from your eyes, and you blink rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of what is indeed the sorority house basement. The space has been transformed into something between a military obstacle course and a twisted playground. Plastic tarps cover the floor, and various stations are set up around the room—each looking more degrading than the last.

Alexis stands in the center, her blonde hair gleaming under the single bright spotlight. "Welcome to your first night of pledge week, ladies. Tonight, we separate the women from the babies."

You squeeze the hands of the girls on either side of you, leaning first to your left where the pledge with clammy hands stands trembling.

"Deep breaths," you whisper. "Follow my lead and you'll be fine. I've got connections in three other sororities if this goes south."

The girl—a petite brunette with wide doe eyes—looks at you with momentary gratitude before Victoria's sharp voice cuts through the basement air.

"Something to share with the group, Catherine?"

You turn to the right, ignoring Victoria to address the other nervous pledge. "Don't let them see your fear. That's what they feed on."

"Actually," Victoria interrupts, stepping closer with a predatory smile, "what we feed on is putting entitled princesses in their proper place." She raises her voice to address all the pledges. "Ladies, meet Catherine Winters, who apparently thinks she's already running this pledge class."

A few uncomfortable titters ripple through the group as Victoria circles you slowly. "Catherine here was queen bee at her high school. Weren't you, sweetie? But Kappa doesn't need a queen." She stops directly in front of you. "We need sisters who understand hierarchy."

Alexis steps forward, her expression cool and assessing. "First challenge, pledges. Crawl through the obstacle course while our sisters spray you with water. Simple enough." Her eyes lock with yours. "And since Catherine is so eager to lead, she'll go first."

The pledges on either side of you step away quickly, as if your touch has suddenly become toxic. The brunette you tried to reassure even gives a small apologetic shrug before whispering, "I'm Megan, by the way. And... good luck."

Victoria gestures to the start of the obstacle course—a narrow tunnel made of plastic sheeting that appears to be slick with some kind of soapy solution. "After you, your highness."

You maintain your composure as you approach the entrance, refusing to let them see even a flicker of uncertainty. But as you drop to your knees at the tunnel entrance, Victoria leans down and whispers in your ear.

"Leadership lesson one, Catherine: know when you're still at the bottom of the food chain." She straightens up and calls out cheerfully, "Sisters! Make sure our ambitious pledge gets extra attention!"

As you begin crawling into the tunnel, you hear the distinct sound of water guns being pumped behind you. The first jet of ice-cold water hits your back with surprising force, soaking through your designer blouse instantly.

You crawl through the tunnel with determined composure, ignoring the icy jets of water soaking your clothes. The plastic sheeting narrows halfway through, forcing you to wiggle forward on your stomach. Despite the discomfort, you maintain your dignity, refusing to give Victoria the satisfaction of hearing you whimper.

Just as you near the exit, a final sister—a redhead with a wicked grin—aims her water gun directly between your legs. The unexpected stream hits you with surprising force and warmth, causing an involuntary release. A small wet patch forms at your crotch, mixing with the water already soaking your pants.

"Look what we have here!" Victoria's voice rings out as you emerge from the tunnel, trying to stand with grace despite your drenched state. "Our high school queen bee couldn't hold it in!"

You glance down in confusion, noticing with horror that a bright pink stain is spreading across your crotch area, standing out vividly against your soaked jeans.

"Oh, didn't I mention?" Victoria says with exaggerated innocence. "The water contains a special dye that only reacts with... certain bodily fluids. Turns bright pink on contact."

Laughter erupts around you as the other pledges point and whisper. Your cheeks burn with humiliation as you stand there, exposed in the most mortifying way possible.

"Aww, looks like someone's still in potty training," coos Alexis, approaching with a clipboard. She makes an exaggerated check mark. "First pledge to wet herself: Catherine Winters. Congratulations."

"I didn't—it was just a little—" you stammer, your usual confidence cracking under the weight of two dozen pairs of eyes fixed on your pink-stained crotch.

"It's okay, baby," Victoria says, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Accidents happen. Maybe we should get you some protection for the rest of pledge week?"

More laughter follows as Victoria turns to address the remaining pledges. "Who's next? Anyone else need a diaper before attempting the course?"

You stand there, water dripping from your hair and clothes, the humiliating pink stain impossible to hide. For the first time since you can remember, you feel utterly powerless, your carefully constructed image of perfection crumbling around you.

Megan, the brunette from earlier, catches your eye with a sympathetic glance, but quickly looks away when Victoria notices the exchange.

"Don't worry, Catherine," Victoria whispers as she passes by. "This is just the beginning of your... transformation."

The humiliation burns through you like wildfire, your cheeks flaming as hot as the pink stain on your crotch. Your eyes well with tears, but you fight them back with every ounce of your being. Your throat constricts painfully as you struggle to maintain composure.

"Aww, is the queen bee going to cry?" Victoria taunts, circling you like a shark scenting blood. "Come on, Catherine. Let those tears flow. Show everyone who you really are."

You clench your jaw so hard it aches, forcing your breathing to remain steady despite the trembling in your limbs. The room seems to close in around you, every pair of eyes fixed on your humiliation, but you refuse to break.

"I'm fine," you manage, your voice tight but controlled. "It'll take more than a childish prank to break me."

Victoria's smile falters slightly, clearly disappointed by your resilience. She'd been counting on your tears, and you've denied her that satisfaction.

"Next pledge!" Alexis calls out, redirecting attention away from you. "Let's see if anyone else needs special protection tonight."

Megan, the brunette pledge, approaches you cautiously as the others focus on the next victim crawling through the tunnel.

"That was brutal," she whispers, offering you a small pack of tissues she'd hidden in her pocket. "But you handled it like a boss."

"Thanks," you murmur, discreetly dabbing at your soaked clothes while maintaining your dignity. "I'm Catherine."

"I know," she replies with a small smile. "Everyone knows who you are. That's probably why they're coming at you so hard."

Victoria notices your exchange and narrows her eyes. "Megan! Since you're so concerned about Catherine, you can be next through the tunnel."

Megan pales but squares her shoulders. "Good luck," you whisper as she moves toward the obstacle course.

"Pledges who stick together get punished together," Victoria announces loudly. "Remember that, ladies."

As Megan begins crawling through the tunnel, you notice Victoria whispering instructions to the sister with the water gun. The redhead nods, a malicious smile spreading across her face as she aims at Megan.

You've survived the first challenge without breaking, but Victoria's expression makes it clear—this is just the beginning of what she has planned for you.

The obstacle course challenge concludes with the remaining pledges soaked and disheveled. Victoria claps her hands sharply, drawing everyone's attention.

"Ladies, it's time for our next challenge," she announces, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "The Kappa Endurance Test."

Sisters wheel out a table laden with red cups and bottles of various liquors. Your stomach tightens as you recognize the setup—a drinking challenge.

"Each pledge will consume one drink every fifteen minutes," Alexis explains, her voice cool and authoritative. "Last girl standing wins special privileges for the week."

Victoria sidles up beside you, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And just to make things interesting, bathroom breaks are forbidden until the challenge ends."

You notice her eyes lingering on your still-damp jeans with the fading pink stain. The message is clear—she's setting you up for another humiliation.

"Bottoms up, ladies!" Victoria calls out, and the challenge begins.

The first drink burns going down—a potent mixture of vodka and cranberry juice. By the third round, the alcohol warms your body, and a familiar pressure builds in your bladder.

"How are you feeling, Catherine?" Victoria asks loudly, drawing attention to you. "You look... uncomfortable."

You force a smile. "Never better," you reply, though you shift your weight subtly from one foot to the other.

By the fifth drink, the pressure in your bladder has become impossible to ignore. You press your thighs together, trying to maintain your composure while your body betrays you with small, involuntary movements.

"Look at Catherine doing the potty dance," one sister calls out, triggering a wave of giggles.

"Maybe baby needs her diaper after all," another adds.

You're shifting your weight constantly now, unable to stand still as your bladder screams for release. Your face burns with humiliation as you realize everyone is watching your desperate dance.

"Please," you finally whisper to Victoria, your pride crumbling under the physical pressure. "I need to use the bathroom."

Victoria's smile widens. "What was that, Catherine? I don't think everyone heard you."

"I need to use the bathroom," you repeat, louder this time, your voice strained.

"Hmm," Victoria pretends to consider. "I suppose we could make an exception. But you'll forfeit the challenge. And..." she pauses dramatically, "you'll have to ask properly."

"What do you mean?" you ask, still shifting from foot to foot.

"Say: 'Please may I go potty? I'm just a baby who can't hold it,'" Victoria instructs, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The room falls silent, all eyes on you as you struggle with both your full bladder and your crumbling dignity.


Your bladder feels like it might explode at any moment. The alcohol has dulled your pride just enough that survival instinct takes over. You swallow hard, your voice trembling as you force out the humiliating words.

"Please may I go potty?" you begin, your cheeks burning with shame. "I'm just a baby who can't hold it."

Victoria's eyes light up with triumph as laughter erupts around you. "Well, since you asked so nicely," she purrs, nodding to two sisters who disappear briefly behind a storage door.

They return carrying a bright pink plastic children's potty, decorated with cartoon princesses. They place it in the center of the room with theatrical ceremony.

"Your throne awaits, your highness," Victoria announces with a mock bow.

You stare at the tiny potty in horror, the reality of what they're expecting sinking in. "You can't be serious," you protest, crossing your legs tightly as another wave of pressure hits your bladder.

"Oh, but we are," Alexis says, her voice cool and authoritative. "Use it or lose the challenge. Your choice, Catherine."

You look around desperately for an ally, but even Megan averts her eyes, unwilling to challenge the sorority leadership. Several sisters have their phones out, recording your predicament.

"I can't—" you start, but your body betrays you as a small leak dampens your already stained jeans. The sisters notice immediately.

"Oh my god, she's doing it again!" someone shouts.

"Better hurry to your potty, baby Catherine," Victoria taunts.

You take a stumbling step toward the potty, but pride reasserts itself through the alcoholic haze. "No," you say firmly, straightening your posture despite the agony in your bladder. "I'd rather lose the challenge."

Victoria's smile falters slightly at your unexpected resistance. "Fine," she snaps. "Then you forfeit. And your punishment is..."

Before she can finish, Alexis interrupts. "Her punishment is to wear this for the remainder of pledge week." She produces a small pendant on a chain—a pink pacifier. "Since Catherine can't seem to control herself like a big girl, she'll need a reminder of her... status."

The sisters cheer as Alexis approaches you with the necklace. You stand rigid, trembling with the effort of containing your bladder as she fastens it around your neck.

"Welcome to Kappa, baby Catherine," she whispers in your ear. "Now go clean yourself up before you make another mess."


The moment Alexis fastens the pacifier necklace around your throat, your body betrays you completely. The combination of alcohol, pressure, and humiliation proves too much for your overwhelmed bladder. A hot rush of liquid streams down your legs, creating an unmistakable dark patch that spreads across your jeans and pools at your feet.

"Oh. My. God." Victoria's voice cuts through the sudden silence, her tone a mixture of disgust and delight. "She's actually doing it. Right here in front of everyone."

You stand frozen in mortification as urine continues to soak through your designer jeans, the warm wetness quickly turning cold against your skin. The sound of liquid pattering onto the concrete floor seems deafening in the hushed room.

"I told you she needed diapers," Victoria announces triumphantly, holding up her phone to capture your humiliation. "This is gold—literally!"

Laughter erupts around you, phones raised to record your shame from every angle. Your face burns so hot you fear it might combust, tears welling in your eyes despite your desperate attempts to hold them back.

"Looks like baby Catherine christened her new pacifier," Alexis observes, her voice carrying over the laughter. She steps back carefully to avoid the puddle forming at your feet. "Someone get her a towel before she floods the whole basement."

A tall sister with copper-colored hair tosses you a ratty old towel. "Here you go, baby. Clean up your mess."

"I can't believe she just did that," whispers a pledge nearby. "Like, actually peed herself standing up."

Megan approaches cautiously, concern evident in her eyes. "Are you okay?" she asks quietly, shielding you slightly from the cameras with her body.

"Don't baby her, Megan," Victoria snaps. "She needs to learn. Babies who can't control themselves get treated like babies."

You clutch the towel, utterly humiliated as you stand in your own puddle. The pacifier pendant feels heavy against your chest, a symbol of your new status that seems suddenly, terrifyingly appropriate.

"I think that's enough excitement for tonight," Alexis declares, checking her watch. "Pledges, you're dismissed. Catherine—" she pauses, her eyes glinting with something between cruelty and assessment, "—clean yourself up and get some rest. Tomorrow's another day of pledge week, and you'll need your... capacity."

As the room begins to clear, Victoria lingers, leaning close enough that only you can hear. "Sweet dreams, baby Catherine. Don't forget your pacifier. Something tells me you're going to need it."


You look up at Megan through tear-blurred eyes, the weight of humiliation crushing down on you. The wet denim clings coldly to your thighs, and the pacifier pendant feels like a brand against your chest.

"Megan," you whisper, your voice cracking. "Please help me get back to my dorm."

She hesitates only briefly before nodding, her doe eyes softening with compassion. "Of course, Catherine. Let's get you out of here."

As the other pledges and sisters file out, still snickering and glancing back at your soaked jeans, Megan wraps a protective arm around your shoulders. The gesture is unexpected – no one has held you like this since you were a child.

"Careful now," she murmurs, guiding you toward the stairs. "Small steps."

You notice something shift in her demeanor – a subtle straightening of her spine, a gentle but firm pressure as she directs your movements. The petite brunette who had seemed so meek during the hazing rituals now exudes a quiet authority.

"That's it," she encourages as you navigate the stairs together. "Good girl."

The praise sends an unexpected shiver through you – half humiliation, half something else you can't quite identify. You've never been the one receiving guidance; you've always been the leader.

"I can't believe this happened," you mutter, clutching the towel around your waist to hide the evidence of your accident.

"Shh," Megan soothes, her voice dropping to a gentle cadence one might use with a distressed child. "It's okay, sweetie. These things happen when they push us too far."

As you reach the main floor, she expertly navigates you through back hallways, avoiding the common areas where other sisters might be gathered. Her hand rubs small circles on your back, oddly comforting.

"I have some clean clothes in my room," she offers. "We're about the same size... well, you're taller, but I have some loose things that should fit."

You find yourself nodding, following her lead without question – a novel experience for someone who has always been in charge.

In her room, Megan efficiently gathers clean clothes and toiletries. "Here," she says, handing you a soft bundle. "The bathroom's just down the hall. I'll stand guard so no one bothers you."

As you take the clothes, your fingers brush, and she gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "We pledges need to stick together, right? Especially against Victoria."

You nod gratefully, recognizing the potential alliance forming between you. But something about the way she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, the natural ease with which she's taken control of the situation, makes you wonder if this relationship might develop in ways you never anticipated.


The weight of the evening's humiliation finally crashes down on you. Your shoulders shake as the first sob escapes your lips, then another, until you're weeping uncontrollably in Megan's arms. Your fingers clutch at her sweater as you bury your face against her shoulder.

"It's okay," she whispers, stroking your hair with gentle, rhythmic motions. "Let it out, Catherine."

Your body trembles against hers, your usual iron control shattered by the combination of alcohol, exhaustion, and profound humiliation. You've never broken down like this in front of anyone—certainly not someone you barely know. Yet here you are, surrendering completely to the comfort she offers.

A door opens down the hallway, and voices drift toward Megan's room. Her body tenses slightly as she glances toward the partially open door.

"Shh, sweetie," she murmurs, her eyes darting nervously toward the hallway. "We don't want Victoria or her minions to see you like this. They've got enough ammunition already."

Your sobs continue, too loud in the quiet dormitory. Megan's eyes widen with sudden inspiration. Her fingers close around the pink pacifier pendant hanging from your neck.

"I'm sorry about this," she whispers, "but we need to quiet you down before someone hears."

With gentle but firm movements, she unclasps the pacifier from its chain and brings it to your lips. You're so lost in your emotional breakdown that you don't resist as she slips the rubber nipple into your mouth.

"There we go," she soothes, wiping tears from your cheeks with her thumbs. "That's better."

The sensation is strange—foreign yet oddly comforting. Your sobs gradually subside into muffled hiccups as you instinctively begin to suckle. The rhythmic motion calms you in a way you don't fully understand.

"Good girl," Megan praises softly, and something inside you warms at the words. "Now, let's get you into the bathroom to clean up before anyone sees, okay?"

She guides you to your feet, one arm still wrapped protectively around your shoulders. The pacifier remains in your mouth as she leads you toward the door, checking the hallway before ushering you out.

"The bathroom's just down here," she whispers, steering you with gentle pressure. "I'll stand guard. Take your time getting changed."

As you step into the bathroom, pacifier still between your lips, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror—tall, beautiful Catherine Winters, former queen bee, with tear-streaked makeup, wet jeans, and a pink pacifier in her mouth. The image is so incongruous, so utterly removed from your self-perception, that for a moment you don't recognize yourself.

Megan gives your shoulder a final squeeze. "I'll be right outside. Knock when you're done, baby girl."

The door closes behind you, leaving you alone with your reflection and the strange new comfort of the pacifier between your lips.

If you want to see this continued, or create your own version of this story, try it as an AI-powered CYOA on infinite worlds: https://infiniteworlds.app/#Fcpdjh

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