Moving into the frat house & some surprising enslavements
This story involves erotic situations and actual sexual contact between males - as well as humiliation, exhibition, and much of the usual stuff for this genre. If you are not at least 18 years of age (or whatever legal age is where you are) go away now! If you are offended by the content of this story go away now! If you are in a jurisdiction in which it is illegal to read or possess such fiction stories go away now (well, it would be better if you could get the hell away from that jurisdiction). And if you are someone who cannot distinguish fantasy from reality, please go away and get some help.
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THE FATE OF A POOR MAN'S SON, chapter 14
By Master Redbeard (redbeardedsf at yahoo dot com)
Brad Winston had the largest, most elegant room on the top floor of the frat house. Although he wouldn't be a senior until the following year, Brad was president of his fraternity. Bush was one of the most expensive universities and it was considered the coolest and (in certain circles) the most prestigious. And Brad was president of the coolest fraternity - only jocks and multimillionaires permitted.
Most of the students at Bush were children of wealth and power. There were a few scholarships available for athletes, but academics were not seriously stressed at Bush. Professors were paid well compared to other colleges, but they were expected to adhere to school policies: Grades were based on a student's value to the university and on family wealth.
My former friend Erik, whose father was an executive with Winston Industries, would have to work hard for his grades - just as his father had to work hard to send him to Bush. Eddie, who would be attending Bush on a football scholarship, would never be expected to do any schoolwork - as long as he did well on the football field. And Brad Winston would spend all his time partying, would never attend class, and would still end the year with a 3.5 GPA (Captain Winston decided that a 4.0 was just too ostentatious).
I had been shipped as freight, but it was only a one-day trip. My discomfort at being packaged, having a catheter inserted in my penis and a hydration tube up my nose, was mitigated by the powerful tranquilizer jabbed into my ass cheeks. I woke up and became aware of my very cramped state, feeling slightly panicky about how long I would remain in the crate. But it was only a few hours later when I came to a stop and was being uncrated by a group of slaves in the backyard of the frat house.
How wonderful! There were other slaves, many around my age, so I would have mates. I knew what a difference that could make in a slave's life. But that was not the way things worked out. All the other slaves shared quarters down in the underground basement of the frat house. Since Brad had brought me along to serve as slave to the entire frat house, I slept on the floor at the foot of my young master's bed.
Any thought I had about seeing or experiencing the campus was also shot down. Other slaves may have accompanied their masters to class or done chores around the campus, but my assignments were totally in the confines of the frat house. During the day when I did laundry or scrubbed the toilets or swept the floors I would see the other slaves at work, but we were not allowed to speak to each other. Slaves, I was instructed, could only speak to each other in the downstairs slave quarters. But, since I did not stay in those barracks with the other slaves, that meant I could never speak to any of them.
Brad Winston immediately declared that I was to be on a cum-only diet. No slave biscuits. No slave chow. Only cum. Aside from helping Brad in the shower and to dress, my mornings were spent kneeling at the foot of the stairs as the frat brothers stopped to use my mouth in any way they chose. For some of the rich college boys I was a cum dump, for others simply a toilet. Some would stop to pee, get stiff in the process, and give my mouth a quick fucking to shoot a wad before their first class (or more likely their first tennis date or swimming date or lunch date).
Eddie, the football star from my high school, was a pledge in Brad's fraternity. This was not unusual. Although Eddie came from a working family, he was big and powerful and had enough promise on the football field to be considered desirable by these frat boy snobs. It was surprising that my former friend Erik was also pledged by the frat. His father was wealthy, but not nearly wealthy enough to qualify for Brad's frat. I figured it was only Brad's intercession that had gotten Erik into such rarefied company.
I noticed that Erik rarely used my mouth in the mornings. Even when the frat brothers had beer parties (and it was considered uncool for anyone to leave the room just to go the bathroom) Erik would usually use a different slave to swallow his piss. There was even one morning when I thought I was alone in the front hallway of the frat house, still kneeling, waiting to see if there were any more cocks for me to service that morning. Erik came up beside me and caressed my face tenderly. I looked up, surprised, and saw him looking down at me with sadness in his eyes. He sighed heavily, shook his head, and left the house quickly.
Of course Eddie was the opposite. He never let a chance pass by to humiliate me. He would pull his cock out of my mouth before he'd completely finished pissing, so that his urine would splash all over me and all over the floor. Then he'd smack me and blame me for the sloppiness, forcing me to lick up the floor while the other frat brothers laughed. Eddie talked about becoming a big football star and someday being as wealthy as the other boys in the frat. I would shudder when I'd hear that talk, dreading the fate of the many slaves he would one day own.
There was one time I got to be in the central quad of the campus. There was some charity fundraiser event and each of the fraternities and sororities had booths like some sort of carnival. I was kept chained on my knees beside the table of Brad's fraternity. At first the frat brothers were going to sell my blowjobs for $10 each. But then one of the frat officers raised the prospect that my lips could get sore and scraped raw from so much mouth fucking.
The resolution was that for $10 I would kneel and jerk each customer's cock into my open mouth. My jaw was aching. My tongue was burning from the loads of cum. And my hand was cramped from all the stroking I did. That was the only chance I had to see the campus.
One night I was curled up in the corner of Brad's room trying desperately to sleep. The problem for me was that I was expected to wake up early and work hard all day. But at night, since I was sleeping on the floor of Brad's room, I would get no peace until hours after midnight. And of course if Brad decided he wanted anything - either a blowjob or a sandwich, I needed to be quickly alert no matter what the time.
Just as I was starting to doze off, I heard Brad speak quite insistently and loudly into the phone. "Yeah, just like last year's boy. Why did he think we were taking a boy from his socioeconomic background into the pledge class anyway? You saw the photo before we even pledged him. Real good legs and butt from track team. I expect a good price for him." A chill ran down my spine. He could only be talking about Erik.
"We've been using that same pledge contract for eight years now. All it requires is that we find just cause. You know how good my frat brothers have always been at coming up with just cause." The college boy's laugh was just as twisted and evil as his father's. The last words I heard were the ominous, "We already have a collar ready in his size."
I felt a stabbing pain in my chest. All that had happened to me since being enslaved by the Winston family - would Erik go through the same experiences? I knew I had to find a way to warn my former friend. But how? Erik left along with a group of other frat brothers the next morning. I didn't see him the rest of the day.
The following afternoon all of the frat brothers disappeared out to the backyard. I was left indoors cleaning the filthy kitchen and had no idea what was going on nearby until one of the personal slaves ran in and ordered, "They want beers." I helped the other slave carry a cooler of beers out to the yard, where I saw another cooler already emptied and bar cans strewn across the grass and flowers.
But what caught my attention was a naked slave kneeling in front of Brad, sucking the frat president's cock. Brad was gripping the close-cropped head against his torso and grunting. I heard the slave gagging and choking and saw the way his body was flailing. My first thought was that this slave certainly wasn't well trained in sucking cock.
Then when Brad pulled his cock out and pushed the slave to the ground, I saw that it was Erik. He was naked with a slave collar, his body already shaved, his hair cropped close, and SINs tattooed across his collarbone and on one butt cheek. I froze to the spot. My ass was slapped hard by a drunken frat brother who yelled "You're blocking the view, stupid slave. Get back in the kitchen and get back to work."
I moved as if in a daze. As I neared the back door I heard Erik whimper, "P-please, B-brad, don't do this to me. How c-could you?" Then I heard a smack.
There were three well-dressed middle-aged men standing near the back door. I hadn't noticed them earlier when I brought out the cooler with beer. But as I passed them now, I saw they were each fingering the front of their pants. Brad called to these men, "We're saving the ass for you bunch of fruits. But breaking in the mouth just like you wanted."
When I returned to work I tried to make my mind a blank. Everything seemed hopeless. Not just hopeless for me. It was as if the entire world was hopeless. People like Captain Winston and Brad Winston and Eddie, the football player, would rule the world. These selfish bastards would crush anyone with a shred of decency.
It was way into the night and I was still tossing on the floor trying to get to sleep. The vision of Erik's one moment of kindness to me, the one moment when he smiled down at me, touched my face softly, when nobody else was there - I couldn't get that moment out of my mind. In some twisted way I imagined that he had been enslaved as punishment for showing me that little bit of tenderness.
I remembered all the years I had played together with Erik. The games we played, the secrets we shared. I never even had a chance to say goodbye to him. I fell asleep wondering how Erik had felt when he learned that I had been enslaved. I know he had acted in a cruel way when he saw me at school. He had to protect his status. But I wondered if he had felt any sadness late at night, if he thought of the same memories that haunted me now. For the first time in a long while, I cried myself to sleep.
Did I wish a curse on Brad and on Eddie? Perhaps deep down I did. What I know is that when the frat brothers came back from the football game the following day in a somber mood talking about Eddie being taken to the hospital I smiled to myself.
That night when I was trying to fall asleep in the corner of Brad's room I heard a heated exchange between Brad and two of the other frat officers. "Of course I know what this means for his scholarship at Bush," Brad said impatiently.
"We could've sent Eddie to that bunch of rich homos instead of sending Erik. Erik was a cool guy."
"Fuck, those fruits have enough money. I'll bet they'd pay even more for Eddie than for Erik. Hell, Eddie's a football jock."
Brad came back into the conversation with, "Don't worry about the disposition of Eddie. I have plans for Eddie's future."
"Eddie asked us to bring him some candy to the hospital tomorrow," one of the other frat officers tossed in.
"Have one of the slaves put chocolate over crumbled slave biscuits. Eddie might think the candy tastes funny, but it'll get him started on his future diet." Brad's laugh really was as evil and twisted as his father's.
Their conversation continued but I just wrapped my arms around myself and fell asleep with a feeling of contentment washing over me.
I hadn't realized how close we were to winter vacation from college. Because it was just a one-day shipment, Brad decided to send me back to the Winston estate for the four-week break. I was still unconscious when the crate arrived and woke up lying on the floor of the slave bathing room. Rye was looking down at me and smiling. I tried to leap up to hug him, but was too shaky on my feet.
An hour later I was working alongside Rye shaving and cleaning slaves. There were a few new ones and some of the slaves I had cleaned a few months earlier were now gone. But it was good to be back with Rye and good to be away from the bastards in the fraternity.
Soon enough it was my turn to be cleaned inside and out. Captain Winston spent hours fondling and molesting and abusing my body. I knew all his moves by that point and I slept fitfully with his erection deep inside my guts.
Eddie was still in the hospital when I left the campus. So it came as some surprise when Rye appeared at the door of the slave bathing room, pushing the naked ex-football star by his slave collar. I couldn't help but smile.
Eddie did not stop crying the entire time we were shaving him and preparing him for the captain. He was bawling and sniffling until Rye finally smacked him across is beefy white ass. "Hey, you can't do that!" the former college jock protested.
Rye pulled himself up to his full height, eye-to-eye with Eddie. "Listen, slaveboy, I'm a senior slave here. You are the newest and lowest slave here. Now shut up. We have a job to do."
I was kneeling beside Eddie, scraping a straight razor over his already denuded pubic area. Scowling down at me, the big blond snarled, "You probably enjoy this, you little pussyb...." Before he could complete the last word, he howled a high-pitched screech.
My fingers dug into his balls as I pressed the side of the straight razor against his flesh and broke out laughing. "Damn, Eddie, you're even more stupid than I always thought. Don't open your dumb jock mouth to someone that's holding a razor so close to your balls."
He whimpered a weak apology. Then his voice was whiney as he insisted, "When I see Captain Winston he'll straighten out this whole thing. Maybe I had to be enslaved because of the money and the university. Well I can lift and carry and do whatever hard work he wants. But he certainly wouldn't treat me like just some common slave, certainly not like some lowlife sex slave."
It took all my effort to keep from bursting out laughing right then. Eddie grumbled as he pulled on a tight-fitting pair of white briefs. Then Rye and I escorted the former football star up to the captain's suite of rooms. Eddie was standing up tall and proud. Rye tried to warn the arrogant college boy to get into slave rest position, but Eddie ignored the older slave.
When Captain Winston gave us permission to enter, Eddie was still standing tall while Rye and I humbly maintained our slave posture on either side of him. The captain sat on his plush sofa with Brad Winston standing behind. The older man's face flushed red as he shouted, "What the hell is this?"
Eddie looked from side to side nervously, stunned into silence. Then the captain continued, "Didn't the bath slaves teach you the proper postures for a slave?"
"No, Captain... er, sir."
Captain Winston leaped from his seat toward Eddie and swung his hand wide smacking Eddie so hard across the face that the big college guy stumbled backwards. I saw Eddie's fist start to rise up and I saw Rye grab Eddie's powerful arm with both his hands.
"You stupid little piece of shit slaveboy!" the captain snarled, walking around Eddie. "You start off by telling your master a bald-faced lie. Of course Rye taught you the slave postures. I saw him on hidden camera outside my door just now trying to get you to take slave rest position. Slaves do not lie to free men!
The captain spent a long moment in thought before continuing. "You were starting to raise your hand after I smacked you, Eddie. I must give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you were about to scratch your nose. Because the other assumption would be that you were going to raise your hand to your master. Do you know what happens to a slave that raises his hand to his master?"
There was a dramatic pause during which Eddie began softly weeping. The captain seemed to be enjoying the big blond boy's downfall. "If you had raised your hand in a way that even suggested you might wish to strike your master... well, let's just say you owe a great debt of thanks to Rye for clutching your arm as he did. You owe a debt to him that includes your balls, your penis, and every square inch of skin on your body. Do you understand me, slaveboy?"
Eddie nodded his head. Captain Winston gave a disgusted look and then scowled to Rye, who grabbed a slave prod from the side table and zapped Eddie's right tit. Eddie fell to the floor howling. "If this one doesn't shut the hell up, his vocal chords will be gone before midday tomorrow." At that Eddie continued writhing but did so silently.
The captain turned to his oldest son and snarled, "I thought we could have fun with this one. But I think he's too stupid and too cowardly." Then the captain turned to us and said, "Just strap him over the horse and we'll get this over with."
As I was strapping down Eddie, I started thinking to myself, "If Eddie is too stupid and cowardly, does that mean I'm smart and brave, since the captain certainly had a lot of fun playing with me?" Even as the thought hit me it seemed twisted for me to think of it as a compliment.
"Damn, father," Brad finally broke his silence. "I said I'd take him. He'll be perfect to serve our frat." (Damn, was I going to be slaving side-by-side with Eddie?)
"You might as well go first then." The older man sounded bored. I looked over Eddie. He was definitely a fine specimen of manhood, with powerful arms and chest and legs. He was built solidly as you'd expect from a college football star. But I knew the captain preferred his slaveboys more boyish. Eddie was as manly as a 19-year-old could be.
Eddie was struggling with the bonds on the horse. Brad motioned for me to come over and pointed to Eddie's uncut cock, saying just one word, "Lubricant." I began stroking Eddie's foreskin up and down, wondering how long the college boy would keep that extra flesh. I cupped my left hand at his cockhead to catch his spunk. Eddie was breathing hard.
The bound football player was wide eyed as Brad, now naked, stood in front of him. "P-please, b-brothers forever?" Eddie barely whispered.
Brad smacked Eddie's face back and forth and back and forth at least five times as he called out, "This slave really is as stupid as you say, father. Doesn't know how to address free men." Then Brad grabbed Eddie's jaw and forced the new slave's mouth open. "If I so much as feel these teeth making contact with my cock, I will personally supervise the removal of each tooth - with no anesthetic."
I kept on stroking Eddie's cock as Brad slid his hardon into Eddie's mouth. Just as Eddie's nose made contact with Brad's pubic hair, the big slave started to shoot his cum into my left hand. Brad laughed and said, "Looks like you shot your load from tasting my cock, slaveboy. The guys in the frat are really gonna enjoy this sweet mouth."
Eddie gave forth a guttural whimper as I worked his own spunk around his asshole. I wet my fingers and did my best to lube up the virgin entrance. No matter how much I hated Eddie, I didn't want him to lose his cherry to a dry fuck.
Seeing what I was doing, Brad withdrew from the new slave's mouth and moved around to Eddie's rump. I smoothed some of Eddie's cream onto Brad's erection and then my young master pushed me aside. I had a close-up view of Brad's long cock pressed against Eddie's virgin hole. Then, as if by magic trick, the full length disappeared deep inside the handsome blond boy's guts. Eddie screamed again and began bawling.
I looked over and realized that Rye had been undressing Captain Winston, who now stood in just his boxer shorts. The captain gave just a light smack to Eddie's face and then plunged his fat cock down the boy's throat. I watched in amazement as the big hunk that had been captain of our high school's football team was being spit roasted by father and son masters, getting fucked at both ends.
The captain was going slowly. It was clear he didn't want to pop in Eddie's mouth. When Brad finished fucking his former frat brother, he pulled out and made way for his father. "I'm already way late," Brad called out and Rye went with the boy to help him dress for a dinner party.
The captain seemed bored fucking Eddie's ass. I stood aside at slave rest position. The captain motioned for me to move around to Eddie's face. "This new slave needs to learn humility. Sucking slave dick is a good way to start, heheheh." There was that creepy laugh again.
I pulled down the front of my slave briefs and shoved my stiff cock down Eddie's throat. Looking down and seeing that handsome manly face with his lips stretched around my hard-on was almost enough to make me cum. I fought against the sensations. I wanted to enjoy this for a while.
The captain surprised me by pulling me over toward him. I couldn't believe it, but apparently my master wanted me to shove my cock up Eddie's powerful ass. But I soon understood the man's motives. As soon as I was fully buried inside Eddie's bottom hole, I felt the captain's stiff cock press against my butthole.
I was the middle of a sandwich. I wasn't able to move of my own volition. As the captain slammed into my ass, I was thrust forward slamming hard into Eddie's ass. Finally as the captain's cock was pulsing and shooting cream deep inside me, I was pushed as far as I could go inside Eddie and my cock began to slap around at his guts and spew my hot cream inside the blond boy.
When I came out of my daze I realized that Rye was standing there watching us. The captain ordered the two of us to use the new slave's holes. "He has to get used to taking cock down his throat. And as for his asshole, I don't give a damn about that. Also, be sure to give him at least twenty hard ones with a wooden paddle. If you go soft on him, if I don't see enough damage done to that white ass, I shall administer forty extremely hard ones on each of you. Oh yeah," the captain said as an afterthought. "You two are not to use toilets. The new slave needs to have his mouth trained as a toilet."
That night was the most fun I had since becoming a slave. I enjoyed using Eddie's body. I suppose I enjoyed paddling his beefy ass. But my experience as a slave had given me compassion. At the end of the night, Rye and I snuggled up on either side of Eddie and held the new slave as he cried.
Brad had gone away the very next day on an invitation from some girl. "Very rich family," I heard him tell his father.
The captain put us to work preparing a barbecue for a group of his friends. As I saw some hard labor slaves setting up a stage outdoors, my blood went cold. Was I going to provide entertainment once again? But it turned out that Brad was to be the star of this show and the performance took place before food was served.
The low stage was set up right among the barbecue. There was a whole pig turning on a spit over a fire to the right of the stage and the hindquarters of a cow turning on a spit over a fire to the left of the stage. There was another fire with an empty spit upstage. The setting was made to seem tropical. Instead of a curtain there was a grass hut.
I was sent backstage to hand out costumes. Eddie was going to be dressed in khaki shorts and shirt, boots, and a colorful pair of boxer shorts. He seemed pleased when I gave him the clothes. Apparently nobody had warned Eddie what was about to happen. Tar and Pitch looked at each other with disgruntled expressions when I handled them tiny cloth pouches to put over their cocks. Tar mumbled, "It's that African hogwash again." I suppose since they were both from Africa, this white man's fantasy offended them.
I stood behind the crowd of men at slave rest position in case anyone needed anything. But the audience was so wrapped up in the action once it started that I was able to watch the show all the way through without interruption.
Rye took his place and began his recitation. "The party of intrepid explorers had been captured by the savage cannibal tribe. They had already feasted on all the others in the party and had saved the teenage boy for last. He was the most handsome with the best muscles. So of course they figured he'd be tastiest."
The two large African slaves came onstage carrying a pole between them. Eddie was hanging down from the pole. His hands and elbows were tied to the pole at one end and his knees and feet were tied to the other end of the pole. He was dressed in the khaki clothes, but his face was drained of color.
Eddie's eyes went wide as he looked upstage and saw the fire with the empty spit. Meanwhile the two Africans had pulled out knives and were slicing off Eddie's clothes, leaving the boy in just his colorful boxer shorts. Eddie was squealing, "Nooooooo, not that. You can't! Somebody help me, ple-e-e-e-ease." The audience was roaring with laughter. Damn, Eddie actually thought the cannibal scenario was real.
Then two more big pony slaves appeared carrying an enormous pot. I hadn't noticed another low fire burning next to the middle spit. It was just logs piled up with flames licking up from them. Once the pot was placed on the fire, a line of slaves appeared, each slave pouring water into the pot. This took quite a long time since the pot was certainly large enough to fit a person. Now Eddie was squawking, bouncing in his restraints since he was still hanging from the pole and in a terrible panic.
The captain whispered something to Rye - an addition to the script no doubt - and then the tall slave intoned, "The natives smacked their captive to get him to shut up." Once again the audience roared with laughter as Tar smacked Eddie's face and Pitch smacked Eddie's ass. Rye maintained his composure as he continued, "The natives knew there was only one way to tenderize young white meat like this. They had to fill the boy with cream."
Eddie had been stripped to his boxer shorts. The knives had been put aside and the two big ponies used their hands to strip Eddie bare-ass naked. Then they were stuffing their enormous cocks into the boy. But before Pitch could get very far into Eddie's ass, Coach Baker called out from the audience, "Hey, Captain, why let the ponies get him all stretched out. If that boy needs to be filled with cream to tenderize him for cooking, I'll volunteer a load of mine."
The captain rose and strode over to Rye, a merry look on his face. After a moment of listening to his master's whispers, Rye faced the audience and said, "The natives decided to untie their captive. They thought maybe they'd use the blond boy for sex instead of for dinner. So if the blond boy could take care of all the cocks in the village and satisfy all the men, they wouldn't have to cook him up and eat him."
I saw the look of disappointment on the faces of Tar and Pitch as all the men in the audience surrounded Eddie. And I saw an amazing transformation in Eddie. I suppose since he really did believe the threat of cannibalism was real, he determined that he had to work very hard to satisfy all the men's cocks.
Coach Baker was the first at Eddie's ass. He spouted off obscenities to the former football star as he pounded hard into the boy. I was soon put to work licking clean the cocks of the men who had just finished fucking Eddie's ass. It hardly mattered. I knew Eddie's ass was totally clean since I had administered the enemas. And after the first six or eight men had finished fucking him, all I tasted was cum and no more ass juices.
The following morning I heard Brad yelling at his father. "You knew I was bringing him for my frat brothers. How dare you let slaves up his ass? My frat includes the son of a U.S. senator and the sons of two industrial tycoons and a media mogul. And you let some tradesmen and townies put their dicks into him?"
But the morning after that the house was peaceful again. Brad had returned to his university, taking Eddie with him. And I had been left at the Winston mansion. At least I was together with Rye.