Fraternity War

By Jackson Amacher

Published on Apr 29, 2000

Gay

Fraternity War

Part 1

by Jackson Amacher (j_amacher@yahoo.com)

This fictional story is for adults only. It will be posted in installments. For the complete story, along with other stories by the same author, visit:

http://www.geocities.com/j_amacher/

I.

I was studying late Tuesday night, working on a chemistry problem set. Around 1:30 AM, I heard a crash in front of our frat house. I went to the window to see what was up, and saw that a ladder leaned against the wall.

I ran out of my room, down the hall, and woke up some of the other brothers. They got dressed, and we ran into the yard. We were just in time to catch a guy climbing up the ladder, headed for our third floor. We grabbed him by his pants and pulled him off the ladder, and then four of us grabbed his arms and legs and carried him into our frathouse. We laid him down on the pool table and held him in place.

"I know this kid," said Greg, one of my Brothers. "He's a frosh -- a pledge from Brig!"

I ran upstairs and woke the rest of the brothers. They all came down, and we surrounded the Brig pledge.

Tom took the kid's backpack and looked inside. "What the fuck is this?," he asked as he pulled some bottles out of the backpack.

"That's the shit women use to kill all the hair on their legs, man," someone said.

Charlie, our president, grabbed the kid's head by pinching his cheeks together and shouted, "What were you going to do with that shit in our house, huh?"

"He was headed for our showers on the third floor," I said. "He must have --"

"You fucking prick!," Charlie shouted. "You were going to put that in our shampoo bottles? Wow, that's hilarious, isn't it guys?"

The kid was still lying there with a big grin on his face, but wouldn't say a word. He kept struggling and trying to break free, but we held him down.

"Strip him," Charlie said.

The kid was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. We grabbed the T-shirt and pulled it out of his pants, then pulled it back towards his head. One at a time, we let go of his arms so we could pull the T-shirt off his body. We could see the kid's naked chest now. It was a light build with pale skin and no hair, but you could see the muscles in his arms and shoulders flex as he tried to escape from our grips.

Just for fun, I reached out and tickled the kid under the armpits. He twisted back and forth trying to get away from me. When he settled down, our attention turned to his pants. We saw that he seemed to have a big erection from all this horsing around.

Guys at the end of the table pulled off his Nikes and socks while we undid the buttons on the fly of his jeans. We grabbed the cuffs of his jeans and pulled them off him. He looked helpless and really hot lying there in his underwear. His briefs had some kind of generic blue strip around the waistband. It was some cheap department store brand. Some guy hooked his thumbs underneath the elastic waistband and pulled the briefs off, throwing them to the floor.

"OK, let's take him downstairs," Charlie ordered.

II.

Maybe I should explain. I'm a brother in Theta Epsilon Delta, or TED for short. TED has a big house on Kameny Street (our college's Fraternity Row), enough to hold most of the brothers and many of the pledges. Just down the street was Beta Rho Gamma, which everyone called Brig. Brig and TED were kind of similar, I guess. We both had our share of jocks (mostly swim team and baseball guys) and we were about the same size. But as long as anyone can remember, we've had a serious rivalry going. I guess I don't know how Brig sees us, but we tend to see Brig as a bunch of stuck-up elitist pricks.

My college is a small liberal arts school in western North Carolina. Fraternities were a big part of campus life since the school's founding in 1924, but when I arrived that was starting to change. There was a lot of bad publicity over drinking, and we got a new liberal dipshit college president who wanted to blame every stupid thing that happened in the school on frats. So, he raised the registration fees for frats, and one by one they started to close.

To tell you the truth, hazing wasn't nearly as fun as all those stories on the Internet make it sound like. Mostly it was just humiliating and painful. But this story isn't going to be about my hazing.

At the end of my freshman year, we got some bad news. Our liberal idiot college president, as part of his effort to mess with fraternities, announced that funding to fraternities next semester would be based on the size of our memberships. That meant we'd each be in a race to get as many people in our frats as possible -- and as few in the other guy's frat as we could.

Seeing as our budget was already so low that we could barely make our house's mortgage payments, we knew that if we lost the recruiting war we'd have to shut down. Brig was in the same situation. Only one of us would survive.

After rush, we found out that we had slightly fewer pledges than Brig did. We had to keep all the ones we had, and scare off some of theirs. Immediately, we decided to tone down our initiation, so we wouldn't scare any of the kids off.

But now, less than a week after rush, this Brig kid had tried to break into our house.

III.

We had toned down our initiation this year, but we still had the old equipment left over in our basement. We cuffed the kid's wrists together, tied a chain to them, and threw the other end of the chain over the rafters. Then we pulled the chain tight, so that the kid was tied helpless in the room with his hands over his head.

"Pledges, go upstairs," Charlie said. "Stand guard and make sure no more of them tries to get in here."

Our pledges went upstairs. Charlie walked right up to the naked frat boy and stared directly into his eyes.

"Guys, I'm really sorry," the frat boy began. "I was working on my own. Brig didn't send me. Just let me go and no one will do this again, OK?"

Charlie reached out to touch the frosh's hair, then let his finger run down the kid's chest towards his groin.

"Any of you guys feeling hard up?," Charlie asked. "We had to cancel initiation this year. You guys remember how it's done?"

We sure did. The kid's giant erection made it clear that he would enjoy it, anyway. A group of guys lined up behind the kid to take turns. I went first, and enjoyed it immensely. I knew other guys were waiting, so I only kept on him for about three minutes, then pulled out. Other guys took longer. After about thirty minutes of it, we were done.

Charlie got out the video camera, turned it on, and walked around the kid a few times, putting all of his body on film.

A few of the guys still had hard-ons, and butt-fucking wasn't their thing, so Charlie made the kid suck some of them off. He caught all this on tape, too. By the time he was done, the kid was crying and shivering and very afraid of us.

"OK," Charlie said, still looking through the viewfinder. "Let's take him for a walk."

IV.

We tied the kid's hands behind his back, blindfolded and gagged him, and then tied a rope around his neck like a leash. We led him upstairs, then outside. It was late at night and as far as we could tell there was no one on the street to see what we were doing, but the blindfolded kid couldn't tell that. Despite himself, his dick was completely erect, and angled up towards his stomach. It bounced up and down with every step he took.

We had him walk a few blocks, until we got to Kameny Woods, a park that's on campus.

No one could see us, so we started to make the best of the situation. Guys started grabbing for the kid's ass and tickling him to make him squirm.

"Look at how tiny that dick is," some guy said.

"Yeah, and do you think this scrawny geek has ever even seen a gym?," someone else asked, even though the kid wasn't that bad looking.

Charlie looked up at us.

"Unchain his hands."

We undid the chain that held the kid's hands. With his hands free, he rubbed his shoulders for a bit, but then lowered them to cover his crotch.

Charlie had brought a bag with him. It had all the kid's clothes in it. He fumbled in the bag and pulled out the kid's wallet.

"I can't believe this kid was stupid enough to bring I.D. with him," Charlie said. He grabbed the kid's face by the chin. "How are we feeling tonight, Robbie?," he asked the kid.

Robbie. Now I started to remember the kid. He had been interested in us, but he was one of those guys who you could tell was headed for Brig from day one.

Charlie took a pager out of his bag. It was one of those really slim, pen-sized ones that they sell these days, not more than an inch and a half long. Charlie pushed some buttons on the pager, and then took out a tube of superglue.

"Robbie," Charlie said, "show us what a man you are. Grab that micro-dick of yours and hold it out from your body."

Robbie grabbed his dick at the base.

"No, sweetie, grab the head, and hold it like this, stretching yourself out," Charlie instructed.

With expert skill, Charlie squeezed a line of superglue onto the underside of Robbie's dick. Before Robbie could complain, Charlie took the tiny pager and pushed it under Robbie's dick, right near the sensitive part near the head.

"Grab that and hold it against your dick with your other hand," Charlie commanded. Robbie obeyed.

"Now then, it's going to take about two minutes for that glue to set," Charlie said, "so let's have ourselves a nice chat. Ungag him, guys."

We pulled the gag out of Robbie's mouth.

"So, Robbie, how do you like being a pledge for that stuck-up fraternity down the road from us?," Charlie asked.

"I hate it tonight," Robbie said.

"Wow, that's really funny, Robbie. But I'll bet you're really popular with those guys, aren't you? A kid with a nice ass like yours?," Charlie said. He loved to torment people like that.

"Yeah, they like me. I'm pledge captain," Robbie said.

"Pledge captain?," Greg, my friend, whispered to me. "What the hell is that? I thought he was a frosh." I shrugged.

"Pledge captain, isn't that some sort of screwy crap where you get to lord it over the other Brig pledges?," Charlie asked.

"I give them orders from the brothers. I don't get to order them myself," Robbie said.

"Well, Robbie, that might change," Charlie said. "OK, Robbie, you can let go now."

Robbie let go. His dick flopped down, and the tiny pager was still glued to it.

"How about that?," Charlie said. "I got this glue from a med student friend of mine. They use it instead of stitches now, to hold skin together permanently. Hey Robbie, check this out."

Charlie took his cell phone from his bag and dialed a number. He entered a few more numbers. Suddenly, Robbie jumped, and the guys started laughing so hard they had to wipe tears from their eyes.

The pager glued to Robbie's dick was set on vibrate, and Charlie could set it off whenever he wanted.

"Take it off, please take it off," Robbie pleaded.

"Now, Robbie, we all know it doesn't hurt," Charlie said. "In fact, that probably gets you off, doesn't it?"

Robbie didn't say anything. He was trying to tug at the pager, but it was attached to his dick securely with that weird stitch-glue that Charlie got from who knows who.

"Anyone got a pen?," Charlie asked. Someone had a black marker.

"Turn around, Robbie," Charlie commanded. He uncapped the pen, and wrote a phone number on Robbie's butt cheeks.

"Now Robbie, don't you worry, we'll take that pager off your dick someday. My friend at the med school has the solvent for that stuff, too. In the meantime, each time the pager vibrates, you call me at the number I just wrote on your ass within three minutes. There's going to be a few things I'm going to ask you to do in the next few weeks. Do what you're told, and the pager comes off. Sound good?," Charlie asked, all cheerful, like he was suggesting he meet up with a friend at a bar or something.

Robbie just kind of stared at the ground.

"If you don't do exactly as I say, Robbie, the whole campus is going to see the video we shot of you tonight," Charlie said.

That clinched it. "OK," Robbie said.

"Very good, Robbie. Now, do you want your clothes back before we send you home?," Charlie asked, as if he was really interested in the answer.

"Yes, please," Robbie said, in a tiny freshman voice.

"All you've gotta do to get them back is to answer one question correctly. Robbie, who owns you for the next few weeks?"

Robbie paused and wiped something from his eye. "You do," he finally answered.

"Close, Robbie. We do. TED owns your Brig ass for the next few weeks," Charlie said.

We gave him back his clothes. When he put his briefs on, you couldn't tell that he had a pager in there at all, the thing was so small. We let him have the rest of his clothes, and sent him on his way.

Next: Chapter 2


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