Liam strained against the silk ties binding his wrists to the velvet vanity chair. His last memory was a blur of tequila and breaking into the Kappa sorority house.
“Wakey wakey, Mr. President,” Chloe purred, tracing a long nail down his impossibly smooth, freshly shaved chin.
He tried to bark a threat, but a pair of scented lace panties was deftly stuffed past his lips, silencing him.
“You stole from us, Liam,” another sister whispered, attaching the cips of the garter belt. He gasped, his strictly straight, alpha-male brain short-circuiting as expert hands applied agonizingly slow, sensual strokes of makeup.
When Chloe yanked his head back to face the mirror, pure shock paralyzed him. Staring back wasn’t the fraternity president. It was a perfectly contoured girl with glossy red lips and a flawless blonde wig.
“Your frat brothers are going to adore our prettiest new pledge,w elcome to the sisterhood, Lisa. You have a lot of debts to service.”
