This is a work of fiction. It includes scenes of rough sex and bondage; everyone's over 18. No resemblance to real persons or fraternities living or dead is intended. If you are underage, or if possession of this text is illegal in your area, leave now. Some of the activities described in this story may cause injury or transmit diseases, including HIV. Please play safe--I don't want to lose any fans!
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The Dumbest Thing I Ever Did
Dumbest thing I ever did? It was September. The Friday night air was comfortably cool. Leaves were falling: red, yellow, brown flashes in the light above the parking lot. I was headed into the bar, half- dancing to the beat that worked its way through the wall, when someone said, "Hi." I turned to the voice and saw a fresh-faced young man in a sweatshirt and jeans. "Sorry to bother you, but my friend and I are...looking for a homosexual."
"Well, here I am! Come on in," I smiled, waving toward the door.
"We can't. See--I hope--oh, man, I can't--"
Fresh-face's companion stepped closer, wearing that look that's supposed to make you think he's mature. "What my buddy's trying to say is that we're on a scavenger hunt. We're supposed to find a gay guy to bring back to the party."
Fresh-face spoke again, a little too quickly. "Our fraternity's having a party for pledges, and we have these lists of things to get, like a garbage can, and an out-of-town newspaper--"
"Well, you know how a scavenger hunt works, right?" Not-really-mature smiled.
"You don't have to stay very long. You're the last item on our list, see, so all we gotta do is bring you to the frat house so you can meet our pledge master, and then we'll bring you right back. An hour, maybe, at most." Fresh-face smiled hopefully. I locked eyes with him. He blinked and turned to Not-really- mature. "An hour, maybe. Right, Marsh?"
"Probably," Marsh replied.
I turned to look at Marsh. He had a beard starting, seemed to be about my height and, in the difficult light in the parking lot, seemed to have a decidedly average body. He was starting to look less mature.
I took a step toward him. "You think it's cool, picking up people like trash cans and newspapers, Hon?"
"I guess it's kind of dumb," Marsh muttered.
"But it's a really cool frat," Fresh-face said. "My older brother's a member. He really encouraged me to pledge."
Marsh moved next to Fresh-face and launched into details about Sigma whatever-whatever, how it was a service fraternity, how long it had been around, how many chapters--
I rolled my eyes. "You had to memorize all that, right?" They both nodded. "Look, come on inside. Nobody's going to bite you, unless you want them to."
"We can't," Marsh admitted. "We're not twenty-one yet."
"You must be the only college boys on the planet without phony IDs," I laughed.
They looked at each other, then turned back to me. "I couldn't do that," Fresh-face protested. "My dad's a cop!"
Marsh smiled. "That's one of the things about joining a frat. You don't really need--I mean there's parties and stuff."
I took a step toward Marsh, who immediately stepped back. "So they serve booze to underage kids at your fraternity?"
"You don't need booze to enjoy a party," Fresh-face protested.
I turned to him. "What's your name, anyway, Stud?"
"Jake. Jacob."
"Your whole name, Jakie."
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was rude. Jacob Lemmon. And Marshall Rodinski," he added, pointing to his friend.
"There better be canapes!" Like I said: dumbest thing I ever did. Jake drove, and we got to the campus in about ten minutes. They gathered all their other items, and we headed for the frat house. All the way, they kept pouring on the thanks and talking about what a great bunch of guys I was about to meet.
At last, we stepped into the house. The music was loud, and there must have been two dozen guys in the front room, at least, ranging from yawn to pant. "Would you like something to drink?" Jake asked. "There's beer, since you're an adult."
There was, indeed, a good deal of beer, and it appeared that boys younger-looking than Jake were enjoying it. A muscular older boy suddenly appeared. "Jerk! Mutt! What're you doing?"
"Sorry, Pledge Master. We finished the scavenger hunt, Pledge Master." Jake answered, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the floor.
"You got everything, Jerk? Everything?"
"Yes, Pledge Master," Marsh replied.
"I didn't ask you, Mutt. Gimme ten!"
Marsh immediately dropped to the floor and pumped out ten quick pushups, then stood like his friend, arms behind him, staring at the floor.
"Grab your stuff and follow me!" the pledge master snapped, and we all headed past the grand staircase into a small room that might have been a pantry, at one time. "Gimme your list, pledge!" Marsh nervously handed him a piece of paper, and the pledge master began snapping out items as Jake and Marsh piled them on a small counter, except for the trash can, which Jake placed carefully on the floor. "And one faggot," the pledge master snarled, turning to me. "That you?"
Really? "Yes," I snapped. "And now, I'll be leaving, asshole." I turned toward the door, only to find two other boys standing behind Marsh and Jake.
"Not yet," the pledge master said, and the suddenly pleasant tone in his voice sent a shiver up my back. "You have to prove you're a fag."
"Okay, how's this?" I stepped close to the pledge master and glared at him. "I've sucked more cocks than you've sucked cunts, and fucked more asses than you have pussies. I am better at sex than you'll ever be, Sweetie. So watch your fucking mouth!"
I'm not exactly sure what happened next, but when things settled down again, I was in the basement, handcuffed and barefoot. My clothes were either torn or completely gone, and the two unknown thugs were standing on either side of me. One of them had a grip on my belt, the other was pulling my hands up my back toward my neck. At least it appeared I'd managed a couple of good blows.
Marsh and Jake were kneeling in front of the pledge master, hands behind them, eyes down. The pledge master kicked Marsh.
"This guy came on to me and grabbed my crotch," Marsh said, flatly.
"He tried to grab me and kiss me," Jake added.
The pledge master kicked him anyway, then spun around to face me. "Looks to us like you came on to college property, snuck into our frat house, and tried to mess with our boys. We could call the cops, faggot!" the pledge master snarled, somehow smiling at the same time.
"Or you could end this game right now and let me out of here," I snapped. "You've just committed assault, and this looks pretty close to unlawful imprisonment, Sweetie."
"We caught a faggot lawyer, Dave," the thug on my right snickered.
"No goddamn names!" the pledge master roared.
"Sorry," not-Dave replied.
"Asshole," Dave muttered.
"Before this gets out of hand and puts your whole fraternity in trouble," I started.
Not-Dave spun me around and hit me in my solar plexus and I dropped to the ground trying to breathe. "Shut up!" the pledge master roared. "Or you're going to get an accidental overdose of oxycontin."
I couldn't answer, of course. I was trying to get some air.
"Jerk! Mutt! Get the rest of the faggot's clothes off!"
I tried to look either of the boys in the eye while they pulled and tugged at what was left of my clothing. But they kept looking intently at every part of me but my face. Finally, I was able to get air into my lungs again, and I lay panting while they finished stripping me.
"Like I said, you gotta prove you're queer, faggot. So my pledges are going to fuck you. Jerk! Fuck his ass while he sucks Mutt. Let's go!"
Mutt--Marsh, as I said, wasn't a lot to look at. I wish it'd been reversed. Marsh undid his fly and pulled his reluctant cock and balls over his underwear. The pledge master pushed my head towards it, then gripped my face and chin, trying to force my mouth opened. I managed to get a quick look at Marsh's eyes before I yielded and went to work on his shaft. I think my compliance surprised him. But I thought if I could actually get him hard, even get him to cum, he'd spend the next few weeks wondering if he was gay. And maybe I could plant that idea in the pledge master's brain, as well. If there was room in it.
"Get it hard, Jerk! Get that dumb little dick of yours hard and plow the faggot's ass!"
I worked my mouth off of Marsh's still-soft dick. "Mind if I get Jerk wet, at least?"
The pledge master grabbed my hair. "You can get him hard so he can fuck you, cocksucker!"
Fine. At least I get to see Jerk's cock. Before the pledge master could position me, I spun around and got Jake's cock in my mouth. He responded more quickly than I'd expected. I guess his few minutes of jerking before I turned around had helped. Then again, I am a good cocksucker--been practicing a lot since junior high school.
Jake had a nice cock: not too fat, but a good seven or eight inches. Under different circumstances, I could enjoy this. Hell, even under these circumstances: my own cock was swelling, preoccupied with the immediate activity. I tried to keep Jake's cock deep in my mouth. I figured the closer he was to cumming, the less beginner fucking I'd have to deal with.
But the goddamn pledge master wasn't having any of that. As soon as he could tell that Jake was nice and hard, the asshole grabbed the cuffs and switched me back to Mutt, who had apparently been working his cock, as well. It was still limp, but no longer trying to hide in his underpants. And Marsh, it soon appeared, was one of those guys who starts small and then just keeps growing and growing. Ever try sucking a beer can? At least it was about the same length as Jake's. I concentrated on the head, which was about as much as my jaw could handle. After a minute or so, Marsh went to work on his shaft. I pushed some spit out of my mouth to give him some lubricant. I suspect I wasn't the first mouth that couldn't handle the whole thing. At least it was pretty to watch, even if it did make his cockhead swell even more.
"What the fuck?" the pledge master gasped. "Switch 'em, faggot!" This time he scraped my knees on the floor as he presented my mouth to Jake's shaft. I was working up a real anger at this guy, but there was a more urgent matter at the moment. I felt Marsh pressing at my hole, and tried to relax it, praying I'd gotten at least that massive head slick enough with my spit. At the same time, I tightened my mouth around Jake's more reasonable shaft.
"Holy shit!" not-Dave said. I think it was him, anyway. From the direction of the sound, I was pretty sure he was gawking at Marsh's shaft, which had started into my hole, stretching it, stretching it more, stretching it further than a girl has any right to expect it to be able to stretch. I remembered Nick Olafsson in ninth grade--he took my butt's virginity. Now, of course, he'd be a piece of cake, but back then, back there, he felt almost like--ohmygod it's in! Waves of pain washed through me while I tried desperately to concentrate on Jake. He was long enough to get well past my gag reflex. Fortunately, I had that well under control. But he was aggressive, pushing his hairy crotch against my nose again and again. Hints of soap, but mostly boy-sweat. Perhaps a touch of piss, but that may have been his underwear.
At the very least, the goddamn pledge master should have no doubts that I was the genuine article. It occurred to me that if I hadn't been handcuffed, I might have jacked off Dave and not-Dave, as well. When life gives you lemons...
Suddenly, Marsh grabbed my hips with fingers like iron and threw himself against me, which threw me against Jake, who went down on his back with my face buried in his crotch. Sadly, the result of that was that poor Jake didn't cum. Marsh did, though--it felt like gallons. I tried to help Jake get his erection back, but it wasn't possible. He slowly untangled himself, slid backwards across the floor and sat up, looking like a terrified twelve-year-old. I waited until the fire hose in my ass was drained, then slowly got to my knees. The six of us were silent. The music from upstairs gradually filled our ears. "Would one of you nice gentlemen please uncuff me?" I asked, clearing my throat every word or so.
"Like hell!" the pledge master roared, grabbing my hair and pulling me to his crotch. His cock was ready to go. "Take it!"
"Fuck you!" I said, less forcefully than I'd hoped, and rammed my forehead against his balls. Endorphins rushed through his brain to smother the worst of the pain. A second or so later, he was screaming and rolling on the floor. I scrambled forward and dropped hard on top of him, forcing my tongue between his lips. As I'd hoped, he responded by reflex, meeting my tongue with his. I pulled my mouth away. "See what you're missing, big guy?" I got to my feet, thanks to Dave and not-Dave. "Your pledge master is a closet case, gentlemen!" I hollered at the top of my lungs. I attempted to step over him, but wound up stepping on his chest and falling into the arms of Jake and Marsh.
"Thank you, dears," I said, as Dave and not-Dave hurried over to me. It took them a little time, since they felt obligated not to step on the pledge master. "Fun's over. Jacob, Marshall? You promised me a ride back, I believe. Don't worry about the bracelets. Somebody at the bar will have a key." I was pretty impressed with my performance, considering I was stark naked.
"You ain't goin' nowhere!" the pledge master yelled, rising to his feet. I spun around and kicked at him; he stumbled back against the door frame to avoid my foot, and gave his head a nasty crack. I followed and rammed my head into his gut, like I'd seen somebody do in a movie. Later, I realized that I could have cracked my own skull--dumb move, but I got away with it!
"Hey, asshole," I panted as I regained my feet, "the faggot just beat you with his hands tied behind his back!" My heart was pounding.
Scattered attempts to stifle laughter. Dave and not-Dave were bent over the pledge master. Jake and Marsh grabbed me and steered me to the stairs. "We gotta get him out of here," Jake said.
"He's naked!" Marsh protested.
"I don't care, dears," I said, urgently. "Let's go!"
We stumbled up the stairs. Just as we got to the top, the pledge master yelled, "Stop that asshole!" and every guy in the room turned, saw the naked stranger, and more or less froze in place. I heard a couple of plates drop to the floor as Jake opened the door and we scrambled out to the porch. A second or so later, somebody turned the porch light out. Then Marsh burst out the door. "I got his wallet!" he yelled, and the three of us made it down the stairs to the sidewalk and over to Jake's car. I slid into the back seat. Marsh did that thing where you sort of do a handspring over the hood, and scrambled into the passenger seat. Jake pulled the car onto the street. "Hey, man, I'm really sorry," Marsh said. "I didn't know--I swear we didn't know he'd pull shit like that." He offered my wallet to me, then realized I didn't have any pockets. Or hands, at the moment. I caught a glimpse of his face as he turned to the front of his seat. He looked scared.
"Live and learn," I said, gently. Truth to tell, if anyone in that car should have known better... "I guess you two aren't going to make it into the fraternity, though. Sorry about that."
"There's still hope," Jake answered. "My dad's a cop, remember?"
"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" Marsh asked, turning to look at me again.
"Army taught us how to fight dirty," I said. "Good for something, I guess." I could see the question forming. "Yes, I was. Infantry. Nicest guys you'd ever want to meet."
We were all quiet after that, while our adrenalin levels returned more or less to normal. At last, Jake pulled into the parking lot. I cleared my throat. "I hate to ask this, dears, but just in case, would you walk me into the bar? You don't have to stay, or anything, just get me through the back door."
"Okay," Jake said, turning off the engine. "I got a blanket in the trunk. We could use that, I suppose. Marsh?"
"I'll wait with the car." His voice was tiny. "No problem," I said. "I understand." I couldn't resist adding, "but with a cock like that, I can guarantee you'd have dates every night for the next month, if you wanted them."
"I can't go into a gay bar! Are you nuts?"
"Coward," Jake snapped.
"Easy, Jake," I said. "He's had quite a time tonight. If you don't mind...?" I nodded toward the door.
Jake hurried to the trunk and dug out the blanket, then pulled the door opened. He wrapped me gently in the blanket and we started to walk toward the back of the building. "Go slow," I said. "My feet are already pretty sore."
For a few seconds, the loudest sounds were the snapping of our feet on the gravel, then, "Can I ask..." Jake started.
I stopped and looked at him. "Of course," I smiled.
He pushed the words out as if they were broken glass. "How did you know you were...you know."
"Gay?"
Jake nodded.
"I fell in love in the seventh grade. Felt about this boy...every time I saw him...I never felt that way about a girl. Ever. So I was in the seventh grade, and we...tried it, but he didn't feel...and I did." I shrugged. "It's hard to explain, you know? But it was like discovering a whole new part of me."
Jake took a deep breath and dropped his eyes to the gravel. "I think I should see you again," he said, the words tumbling out in a rapid mumble.
We stepped into the bar, and the back of the room fell silent. The bartender stared at us. "Lou! What the hell--"
"Do me a favor, Max," I replied, as if I came to the bar naked every night. "Give me a piece of paper and a pencil." I smiled at Jake. Who knows? Maybe not so dumb.