This is a story about college and fraternity life. It contains explicit sexual activity between males. If such is offensive to you or if you are not of an age where reading such material is legal, please move on. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story.
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DELTA IOTA KAPPA
by Macout Mann
Chapter 3
Orientation Continues
Beau Bouvier and Marvin Bannister were already in the Chapter room when the first pledges arrive for the sexuality session. It took a bit longer for the pledges to assemble than it had before, because the two actives embraced each pledge's dick as he arrived and waited for each pledge to reciprocate before moving to the next man. Marvin also encouraged the pledges to similarly greet each other. The pledges seemed a bit less skittish than they had earlier.
"Good morning (ghud mawnin), gentlemen." Beau begin, "I'm Beauregard Bouvier and I'm here to talk about sex. That's a subject I just love." The pledges guffaw, as Beau knew they would.
Despite the softness of his accent, Beau's voice was deep and melodious. He was the leading bass in the collegiate chorale, after all.
"Now I imagine that many of you have some knowledge of how your dick feels inside a pussy. If you don't, that's not something I can demonstrate." More laughter. "If you don't know and are interested in finding out, we've got a few coeds around who, I'm sure, are willing to demonstrate. And unless you're stupid enough to knock up some gal, Delta Iota Kappa doesn't give a damn how many women you fuck or how many women you get head from." There were several reactions from the class, ranging from knowing amusement to naïve discomfort. "And DIKa doesn't care whether you are straight, bi, or gay. I happen to be gay, and I don't care who knows it. We've got some gay members who don't choose to share their orientation with everybody, and I respect that. Some of you are gay. Over the years about ten percent of our members have been gay, that is not interested in women at all." The class had become very quiet.
"Now we believe," Beau continued, "that sexual orientation is something you're born with. So we have no business condemning anybody for whom they want to have sex with. We—that is Delta Iota Kappa—have found for over a hundred years that the great majority of `that other ninety percent' are uncomfortable having sexual contact with other men only because of social values or religious teachings. Now there may be another ten percent of guys at the other end of the scale like me, but unlike me they don't want anything to do with guys, like I don't want anything to do with gals. But that leaves a big eighty percent in the middle.
"To find out what the middle's really like, let's look at history. The ancient Greeks didn't have any problem fucking their buddies. Women were mostly for having their kids. Most of their parties were stag, and mostly involved wine, men, dicks and asses. Most of all they admired a beautiful body. That's what all those gorgeous statues wee about.
We've discovered that the Etruscans, the people that controlled Italy before the Romans took over, were totally laid back about all kinds of sex. They'd fuck anybody that came along. Every party was an orgy. And although the Romans at the time of the Republic were pretty straight laced, by the time of the Empire, bisexuality was no big deal. That is, until the Christians took over.
"What I'm saying, guys, is that DIKa's attitude toward what we do with our dicks isn't strange or new. Reaching out to feel your brother just makes you closer. And the more intimate you are, the closer you are. It don't make you queer. If you like to fuck gals, being with a brother isn't going to take away your urge to fuck gals.
"Follow me thus far?"
"Are you leading up to what I think you're leading up to?" a pledge in back asked.
"You're going to ask us to actually have sex with each other?" another chimed in.
"Man, that's far out," another said.
"Sure enough, that's a foreign idea to probably most of you," Beau responded, "but in tapping each of you, we felt that you would be broadminded enough and have enough intellectual curiosity to accept what we're saying. Sex makes you closer than anything else can. And Delta Iota Kappa has always felt from the very beginning that brothers should have a closer relationship than even man and wife.
"Yes. At least ritually we expect you to have sex with other DIKas. Some of you may want to have sex more often, and that's o.k. Some of you may not want to go further than the ritual requires, and that's o.k. too.
"But I want a show of hands. How many of you in a public restroom or in the locker room or shower at school have never stolen a look at another boy's equipment? Be honest."
Not a hand was raised.
"I didn't think so. Most of you have also just wondered what it would be like to...and you fill in the blank.
"Let's see...James Winthrop, would you come forward please?
James walked to the front of the room, sporting a fierce hard-on. That didn't really bother him, because most of the other guys had rigid dicks too.
Beau didn't hesitate or stand on ceremony. He got on his knees, took James' dick in hand, and guided it into his mouth. James wasn't really expecting to get a blow job in front of the whole pledge class, but he quickly got with the program. He showed that he was enjoying it, but he did refrain from fucking Beau's face. When he dropped his load, his body language showed appropriate appreciation, and he sounded a guttural "Yes."
"See," Beau said as he stood up, "that wasn't so earth shaking, was it?" Then he turned to Marvin. "Will you do me, Marvin?" Bannister complied without hesitation.
There were a variety of reactions from the pledges. Some were genuinely shocked. Most were taken aback. Some were relieved that they would finally feel what man sex felt like. At least one, besides James, was delighted that he wouldn't have to be in the closet anymore, at least not with his fraternity brothers.
Beau asked if there were more questions, and there were. One worth noting was whether they'd be fucking each other.
"Male fucking has never been part of the DIKa ritual," Beau answered, "but it is not discouraged among brothers who want to engage in anal activity. It must be totally consensual, however. As pledges you won't ever be asked to fuck or be fucked by any active."
When, how often, with whom—all of those questions were answered to everyone's satisfaction. By the time the session ended, the whole thing didn't seem so weird anymore. All the pledges had seen that sucking and being sucked wasn't effeminate. Even the most naïve had seen the act for himself, so it did really happen.
"If some of you want to try it for yourselves, feel free," Beau said in closing.
Going down the stairs, Winston Crockett asked James, "Did you know he was going to do that?"
"Shit, no."
"You seemed to really enjoy it."
"Man, it feels great."
"Was that your first time?" George Blaylock chimed in.
"No."
"You mean you're gay?"
"I guess so."
"Fuck! I never would've guessed."
"You never can tell. Most gays aren't nellies."
At lunch, the dining hall seemed more subdued than usual. James sat next to Jerry.
"I guess Beau chose you to blow, eh?" Jerry said.
"I guess that wasn't a hard one to guess."
"How did it feel getting head in front of the other guys? Your first time for that, I'll bet."
"I didn't mind, once I got over the surprise. I guess I'm some sort of exhibitionist. I got a big kick out of watching the reactions from some of the others. Some of 'em were amazed. Some were totally uncomfortable. I guess some must have seen a lot of porn. They were almost drooling. I shot a huge load."
"Don't be surprised if some of the other pledges want to get with you."
"Oh, how's that?"
"They'll figure you'll do it, no questions asked. If they bring it up to somebody else, it might embarrass 'em."
"Well, if Beau was going to get somebody to suck him, why didn't he ask me? Why Bannister?"
"Shows democracy. Marv's an important guy, and yet he'll suck just like anybody else."
"Damn, you guys have everything figured, don't you?"
At two o'clock the freshmen reassembled in Sanderson Theatre with test booklets, answer sheets, and #2 pencils.
"This is a general knowledge criterion test," the chief proctor announced. "It is timed for two hours. You are encouraged to answer each question with the first answer that comes to mind. Don't ponder. If you do, you probably won't have time to finish.
"The purpose of the test is to discover your present level of general knowledge. At the end of your time here, you will be given the exact same test. Hopefully, you will score better the second time. And that will give us an idea of how well the university has served you during your four years as undergraduates. Begin...now!" He pressed a stop watch, and the scribbling began.
James didn't find the test terribly difficult. He knew the answers to almost half the questions cold. He pretty well knew the answers to twenty-five percent of the others. He guessed at the rest and was just marking the last question, when he chief proctor called time. He was sure he scored near the top, not that it mattered.
As he was leaving the theatre, James encountered the football player, Max Paxton. Sanderson is an NCAA Division 1 Independent, and like most independents (other than Notre Dame and the service academies), it doesn't really figure in the bowl picture. So it's hard to figure why Paxton, a highly rated high school star, wound up at Sanderson.
"Hi." Paxton said. "You pledged that fairy frat, did you?"
"Don't know why you call us a `fairy frat,'" James replied. "But yeah, I pledged DIKa, and we've got a great bunch of guys. Did you pledge?"
"Yeah, Acacia." Acacia was one of the newer nationals on campus and one of the smaller ones.
"Good choice," James politely said. "So how you think you did on the test?"
"I don't know. Coach said it don't matter anyway. I just filled in the spaces."
"Well, I think they'll let us know how we scored. That ought to be interesting."
"I don't give a shit, myself," Paxton said. Then, as he turned in a different direction, he added, "I hope your ass don't get too sore bunking with them fucking faggots."
James couldn't help laughing to himself as he continued to the house. The senior quarterback on Sanderson's team was a DIKa as was its top pass receiver. He couldn't help wondering how they'd react, if at practice Paxton started shooting off his mouth about the "fairy frat."
When James passed through the Common Room, he found George Blaylock in a lounge chair with a copy of "Sports Illustrated." "Hi, James," he said, "can I ask you something?"
"Sure," James answered, taking the adjacent seat.
"I was wondering," George hesitantly began, "if you could show me...well, you know."
James couldn't help chuckling. "Yeah, I know, he answered. You want to come up to my room?"
"Your mentor might be there!"
"You think he gives a shit? Hell, man, I think I'm the only guy around here that understands what the program is. Come on!"
Jerry was away, when they got to James' room. "So you don't have to be watched...the first time," James teased. "Let me see your dick. I'll show you, so when you do me, you might've gotten an idea about what I'd like you to do."
George giggled nervously, unbuckled, unzipped, and flopped out hard.
James took George in hand and guided his tool where it was intended to go. James understood that foreplay wasn't part of the game. It was suck and get sucked.
In thirty seconds, however, James had George wondering how come he hadn't had this happen to him before. "My lord," he cried.
Pulling off, James said, "Don't blaspheme," and returned to the task.
James swallowed most of George's remarkable output, but saved enough to scoop a bit onto his forefinger. "Taste this," he ordered. "Then you won't be surprised when you taste mine."
James undid and let his jeans fall to his ankles. George without instruction fell to his knees. Somehow it was no big thing, when he took James' dick into his mouth. He didn't really relish doing it, but, what the hell? He was his father's son after all.
The next morning it seemed weird to sit naked in the Chapter Room and hear the Treasurer, also naked, tell the pledges about the importance of financial competence. "If you ever want to be, like, the treasurer of the French Club, they'll ask you how many overdrafts you've had," he said. "We don't bounce checks at DIKa," he added.
He told the pledges many things their parents should have told them about managing money. He took all sorts of questions, but at the end he said, "Now, one of our brothers is Chairman of Commonwealth Bank. Some of you are on your parents' account; but if you have your own, transfer it to Commonwealth. You can tell your folks it's the bank the school uses. But, if you fuck up with Commonwealth, you won't get overdrafted and you'll still get a letter that tells you how you fucked up and how to avoid doing it again.
"And why will they treat you that way?"
"Because we're DIKa," the pledges shouted.
James returned to the Sanderson Theatre at eleven. The assembly was smaller this time, but the Sanderson was the only auditorium on campus that could hold all the Liberal Arts freshmen. James was pre-law and planned to major in political science.
The convocation was like the one on Monday but without the pomp and ceremony. The Dean of the College and the department heads took their places on stage, the dean welcomed them, and each department head talked briefly about his discipline. Afterward each student picked up his class assignments in the lobby. There would be an opportunity on Friday to make changes. But most of his classes were in required subjects, so James was happy with the schedule he received.
James was becoming very popular. He took the opportunity to deflower two more pledges before the Chapter Room meeting at three o'clock. It was led by Cornell Wallace, president of DIKa, emphasizing the importance the fraternity placed on maintaining goodwill through acceptable personal behavior.
During the discussion period, James brought up his encounter with Paxton. He described it in detail without revealing Paxton's identity.
"Exemplary behavior on your part," Wallace said. "There's never any need to get on a high horse, unless you are personally attacked. And this is a good time to reemphasize that every DIKa is expected to maintain a masculine demeanor at all times. We welcome gay men, but not limp-wristed faggots."
The meeting continued with a question and answer session, dealing with various hypotheticals. President Wallace ended the session by saying, "Basically, guys, what we're asking is that you `do unto others as you would have them do unto you.'"
As he was leaving the Chapter Room a brother told James to get dressed as quickly as he could. There was a guy from the University Chaplain's Office waiting to see him in the Common Room.
"Hello, I'm James Winthrop," James said, as he approached the bearded senior who awaited him.
"Jess Smith," the senior replied, as they shook hands.
"Have a seat, Jess, and tell me what on earth the chaplain wants with me."
Well, the chaplain likes one of the lessons at chapel on the first Sunday of the term to be read by a freshman, and since you were the orator of your senior class, you've been selected. That is, if you'll agree to do it."
"I'd be honored," James replied.
He was given the citation, the opening verses of Genesis, was told to sit on the left side of the chapel toward the front and to come up to the lectern at the appropriate time. "No big thing," he was assured.
Jerry Squires was very pleased. A nice perk both for his charge and for the frat.
Friday, pledges met throughout the day with their mentors, the pledge master, and the fraternity's extra-curricular coordinator to decide which extra-curricular activity each was to pursue. James wasn't up until 4:20, one of the last. He was hot to try out for the swim team, but the university's star diver was a DIKa, and the brothers liked to be tops in everything. Considerable pressure was brought to bear to get James into tennis. Sanderson wasn't strong in tennis, so James would become a star straight away. He was also supposed to be good enough that he could bring some trophies back to the university too. He was convinced.
"One other thing you might consider," the coordinator said. "You're pre-law. You've obviously got a golden tongue. We haven't had a brother make the national forensic honorary, Delta Sigma Rho, is a long time. What about debate?
"Never thought about it," James admitted.
"If you make the varsity team, you get some real nice trips," Jerry prodded.
"O.K.," James said, "why not?"
Friday night and Saturday several other pledges surrendered their virginity to James' willing tutorage, a couple of them while Jerry looked on. And at the holy eleven o'clock hour on Sunday almost all DIKas were present at Chapel to support James. Beau led the bass section of the choir in the procession, of course. The hymn was "Master of the eager youth." The chaplain delivered the invocation. Then James, wearing for the first time the grey flannel suit and blue tie his mother had insisted be included in his college wardrobe, approached the lectern.
"...And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it: because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made," James concluded. He returned to his pew, confidently looking forward to the day following, when he would begin classes.
Copyright 2012 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.