IX
It's amazing how quickly humans can adjust to new situations and learn to tolerate what they would have assumed was intolerable only recently. I was thinking on this as I walked, naked and aching, in the wake of Jason, the large jock who was leading me to his bedroom where he would, what? Fuck me? Probably. Hurt me? Possibly? Humiliate me? Maybe. As a sex slave to a frat, he could do all these things to me and more and I would let him. More than that, I would do my best to convince him I enjoyed and appreciated it. And I don't know whether this was the worst or the best thing, but I already accepted his right to do these things to me as totally normal and viewed the fact he could and would want to as totally reasonable. My transition to Fag Pledge had been expertly handled by the frat and I was grateful to them for that. This would all have been so much worse if I was having second thoughts or viewed my situation and their actions as unacceptable.
Jason opened the door for me and waved me into the bedroom he shared with Eddie, though Eddie wasn't in there and Jason slipped a tie over the door handle as the universal symbol for `don't come in, I'm fucking'.
As soon as the door was shut, Jason was on me. He wrapped his muscled arms around me, pinioning my arms to my side and pushed me onto the bed so that his whole weight was on top of me. Then he was kissing me, kissing me hungrily, almost desperately, our mouths crashing together and breaking apart like waves against a cliff. His tongue was exploring my mouth, and then retreating into his own, intertwining with my tongue and then abandoning the endeavour. I'd been kissed a lot, far more than I first expected I'd be, since becoming Fag, but this was of a different kind. Jason seemed to burn hot with a need to kiss me. Between Jason's weight on my chest and his tongue in my throat, my breath was coming in shorter and shallower gasps. I couldn't communicate this through Jason's onslaught but he must have been aware.
Just as I was getting really worried I might pass out or suffocate, Jason stopped kissing me and started kissing my neck, levered himself up onto his fore arms and started kissing my chest and body with the same hungry intensity he had been kissing my mouth.
It wasn't long before he'd flipped me over, my legs dangling off the bed and my ass sticking up, perfectly presented for Jason to fuck me. He wasted no time there either, spitting onto his dick, though my ass was already thoroughly lubed from the cum of the guys who had been fucking me very recently, and speared me with his cock. You would have thought I'd have been be used to it by then, but the sensation of a cock up my ass was still new to me. I was still tight, despite the numerous fucks I'd had in the last 24 hours, and something in my body still resisted, particularly when the fuck was as violent as Jason's. He was ram-rodding in and out of me, his hand fisting my hair and pulling my head back uncomfortably. All the while he was whispering insults to me: `Whore. Slut. Faggot. Cumdump. Sewer. Trash. Nothing. Worthless. Rentboy'. All these and more he threw at me over and over again while his cock thrust in and out of me.
Suddenly he slowed, but only briefly. He had been lifting his leg up so that his foot was planted firmly in the small of my back, pushing down and forcing me into the bed. As the fucking continued, he moved his foot further up my back, between my shoulder blades and finally onto my head. He released my hair and used his foot to force my head onto its side so that my left cheek was buried in the soft duvet of his bed and the other cheek was being painfully crushed by his foot. With each thrust his foot crushed me more. His rough soles rubbing against my face and occasionally one of his nails catching my skin.
Somehow, this was the most humiliating fuck I'd endured so far.
Once his foot was on my face, he didn't last long but had soon spunked his cum inside my ass, letting out a strangely stifled roar as he did so. When he'd finished he removed his foot from my face and collapsed on top of me, as though spent. He lay there for a few minutes, and I could tell he was playing with his phone while I served as a sort of mattress. Then he rolled off and I felt my cock cage click open.
I glanced over at Jason and saw him lying in the same position I had just been in. Do me', he said, almost in a whisper. It was an odd situation. What he'd said was perfectly clear but I was confused about why he'd said it. Do me!' he said again, this time louder, thought with a note of strain in his voice. There were no doubts now. I stood up, took of my cage and positioned myself behind Jason.
My cock had been straining to stand erect all day and even though I'd blown an intense load earlier with Henry and Dominic and all the stimulation meant it was hard very quickly. I positioned myself behind Jason and slowly ran my finger along his crack. I bent down to rim him but as soon as my tongue touch his ass Jason stopped me. `No. Just do it. Just fuck me. Use your spit. I'm ready'.
Who was I to disobey. I spat on my hand and felt Jason's crack, which was already lubed. He must have applied it himself before he came down to get me. So, I grabbed hold of his hips and guided my cock to his hole, pushing in. Jason was tight. Really tight, and I could see his fists balling in the covers as I pushed deeper into his ass. He never made a sound though so I kept going. Soon I had a rhythm going and, inexpert though I was, knew that I was really fucking him now. Jason was now letting out small moans of pleasure. I ramped up the pace of my thrusts and even dared to let out a few pleasurable groans of my own. I was tempted to start calling Jason the same names he'd called me, but thought better of it.
I came deep in Jason's ass after only a few minutes and then stood back.
Jason lay there for a few moments and then jumped up. I saw that there was a distinct wet patch where his cock had lain on the bed. Suddenly Jason was on top of me, but not as he had been when kissing me. Then he'd seemed desperate to taste me; now he just seemed angry. His forearm slammed into my chest, right at my collarbones, and I yelped in surprise in pain. He drove me across the room until my back crashed into the wall. He punched me once and growled into my face `if you ever tell anyone you fucked me then I will break you. Do you understand? I will make you say Howitzer, it will destroy your life, and I won't stop there. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?'
I nodded, truly scared for the first time since I'd arrived in the frat house. Jason had seemed cool, relaxed, confident until now but then I saw a different side and I knew it immediately.
Jason was gay. He couldn't think his frat brothers would care so the fear I could see in his eyes, hear in his voice, and feel in his arms and fist must have been about his family finding out. It was one thing to fuck a fag but quite another to be fucked by one.
`Of course. I'd never tell anyone. It'll be our secret. Always' I replied, stroking one of his arms and smiling to show him I was safe to do this with, that he had nothing to worry about. I wanted him to know I could be trusted. Perversely, there was also a part of me that wanted to reassure him that the violence he'd shown towards me after I fucked him was okay. If he needed to hurt me to reassert some version of his masculinity then okay. I was sure as hell going to be hurt for less reason than that this year!
Jason released me and must have seen some, if not all of that, in me, because he apologised and said I should sit on the bed.
He sat next to me and we talked. It was the first proper conversation I'd had with one of the brothers, but it wouldn't be the last. I soon found out that the brothers used Fag Pledge as a sort of confidant. Someone who they could confide in and tell secrets to. I've often wondered why Fag Pledge would take on that role and the best reasons I've come up with are these: Fag Pledge could never judge a brother for his secrets or feelings or actions because he was already doing far worse. After all, how can a sex slave judge anyone? The second reason, and I'm less sure about this, is that sex creates a connection and Fag Pledge has sex with everyone so is a web of connections.
Whatever the reason, we sat on Jason's bed for an hour and talked about his life back home, about the suffocating family life, about being the only son and required to take on the family business for his wealthy father, of the pressure to produce an heir to carry on the family legacy, of being gay and unable to articulate it to anyone in his family. He cried, I cried. I consoled him and he held to me like a shipwrecked mariner clinging to flotsam.
By the end I suspected I knew Jason better than anyone else in the world. Jason wiped away the last of his tears and so apologetically, `Cole asked me to send you over to him when I was finished. His room is up a flight of stairs. You'll see his name. I'm sorry'.
I gulped. I remembered Cole from the previous night. A cruel brother who seemed to take more pleasure in inflicting pain than anything else, or than any other brother did. I knew that a session with him would be torture.
It's okay,' I smiled back at Jason, stroking his hand, it's what I'm here for'. I was putting on a brave face for Jason so that he wouldn't feel guilty about sending me to Cole, but my insides were turning to jelly.
`Yeah I knew, but Cole takes this sort of thing too far. He's sick'.
Jason's words did nothing to reassure me, but I shrugged it off outwardly and headed to the door, wondering just what Cole had in store for me.