Straight to teams cumdump

Straight to team's cumpdump By Brian Porter birdflies@outlook.com M/m/M+, humiliation, group sex, reluctance, non-reciprocation, mild domination, college, one-way sex Posted at Nifty.org, please donate so we can keep posting and reading nice and exciting erotic stories for our entertainment. Please, visit: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Straight to team's cumdump – part 01

Hi guys, this story is intrinsically related to `from straight to bitch club', but if you haven't read it and don't feel like reading it, it's ok, you'll still be able to understand it fully.

Be aware this story contains and/or will contain manipulation, coercion and/or persuasion of straight men into gay sex. There's no romance here. If this is not your kind of story, please don't go on.

I have a Patreon page: www.patreon.com/user?u=3122824

I usually don't charge for postings there, I use the account to get in touch with you guys and make the writing process more interactive. If I get to charge, it's never more than once a month.

I also have Twitter and Tumblr. My nickname is: kranyatz

Please add me and let's talk over there too.

Also, please, do send me e-mails saying if this story made you cum. You're free to leave comments, suggestions and motivate me to keep posting. E-mail is: birdflies@outlook.com

I remember watching shows on TV with my ma when I still lived with my parents. It would be basically only the two of us, since my pa was always busy with work. It was nothing interesting, just afternoon shows like Oprah where the hosts would tell inspiring stories of change and shit like that. A few times, I'd laugh badly at the crap they'd say. People getting a few advices from someone they barely knew and ta-da, their lives were set back to the start. "Bullshit" I'd say. My ma would stick to something more polite like "no way". Well, at that time, I was still naïve as I didn't know much about life. A normal white guy in a predominantly white town, part of a middle-class family. To family, I was a good boy, but to friends I was the guy to look for when they wanted to have a good time.

As I went to uni, I realized things weren't as simple as they seemed. Although I wasn't too far away from home, the reality of living in campus was something else. I did have my own room, which made me feel lucky, but sharing was quite new to me. Having people eating the stuff I left in the fridge was also novelty. Dealing with all of this was the real deal. But above all, this new life of mine made me start thinking that someone's life can in fact change rapidly. As I'd get to know, meeting people and hanging out with them could turn you into a new different person.

In campus, I wasn't popular anymore. I've become just another one. The guy who lived in the greens – which referred to the color of the unit where I lived. As time passed, I've made friends, but I realized that making friends when you're over 18 is different from when you're a kid. It demands sacrifice. Yes, sacrifice. You need to give up on some privileges so you can get people to like you. There's a lot of giving and taking. After a while, I realized I was good in sacrificing myself for the better of the group.

That's how I ended up trying sports. I needed to be part of something. I had to find a group to call mine. So, I started making my research. I always loved NBA, but never saw myself playing this sort of sports because I'm very short (5'4 or 160cm). But the thing is, I was not only short, I was also pale and had a child's face in a man's body that made me look like a grown-up boy. I watched the basketball team in several occasions. The guys were my complete opposite. It kinda pissed me off. Yeah, I wasn't very comfortable with my face in general, so I kept my curly blonde hair cut short trying not to be taken by an angel or cherubim. If not basketball, then what? I kept looking for something I could do.

I had all the options on the table. The uni I chose was famous for raising sport champions. Actually, the whole life in campus was surrounded by this sport vibe. If you weren't in a team you were a loser. You'd be doomed. But that's not even the most eye-catching characteristic of this campus. A few steps around and you'd be wondering why there were so many more men than women. From what I heard, this used to be a men's only uni. They started accepting women a couple years before I got admitted, but they were still only a few of them and their lodges were built far away from ours. Contact was only possible during classes, or so I thought.

Our uni was trying to raise female stars as well, so they could keep their reputation on the top. I watched the ladies playing, but they seemed distant. You know, unreachable. I liked girls, I loved jerking off to them, but I was a loser when talking to them. Hopeless. That's how I thought about sports helping me to be not only part of a group, but to being more confident with the chicks too.

I was running out of options till I found this poster on the wall. The volleyball team wanted a new member. I wouldn't even consider that given my height, but, to my surprise, they were looking for someone short. As they said, ideally, not over my own height. And not over my weight. I had a good physique, my legs were something to write home about, but I wasn't too heavy. This could work out.

I went to the gym after making an appointment with the coach and we had a brief interview. He asked me to call him Lane. He was a stereotypical kind of coach from the clothes he wore and the whistle around his neck. But he looked younger than I thought. Probably not even 30.

"I'm Christian Davis. People call me Chris though." I said. We shook hands. He looked at me from head to toe and then back to my eyes. This guy meant business. He didn't want to waste time.

"It looks like you're perfect for the position. Not tall, not heavy, strong legs. Do you work out?" he asked me.

"Oh, sure I did. But since I got here, you know. I haven't got the chance, but it's on my list, sir." I always sounded enthusiastic and sir' was how I tried to make myself humble. I thought that if not by the sir' people could take me wrong. Too much enthusiasm could make them think I was a spoiled brat not worth a chat.

"Good. Have you ever played volley?"

I remember the poster saying experience wasn't mandatory, so I told him the truth.

"Well, then we need to see how you go on field. Do you know what's a libero?"

I had no idea, but I didn't want to sound dumb. "I've heard about it, sir". He knew I didn't know it whatsoever.

"Basically, you receive the balls and control the game. You can't let it touch the ground. You're there to assist the team. You won't be blocking or trying to attack, you defend. Got it?"

"Of course" I said, not sounding too confident.

"Anyway, let me see how you go. Can we give it a try?"

I agreed, and we headed to the court. He tried me. We stayed there for at least thirty minutes, and I think I didn't disappoint him. Actually, I was feeling very confident with my role. I felt like I could sense where the balls were heading to and, to our amazement, the balls would go up after hitting my arm. They never went to the sides and never out of the court.

"Ok, that's enough." Lane said from across the court. He came over to me, and we shook hands again. "See you here tomorrow at 9, ok?"

"Fuck yeah!" I couldn't hold my excitement. And, by the way, fuck yeah' was something I used to say a lot. People back home would call me fuck yeah'. Yes, just like: `hey, fuck yeah, come over here.' Well, I wasn't home anymore, but I hadn't changed that much.

Who would ever imagine I'd end up playing volleyball. I sent messages to all my old friends to tell them the news. Everyone was shocked. I couldn't blame them. I went online and made a huge research on volleyball. I didn't want to look stupid to my team. Gosh, I had a team!

Next day, 9 am sharp, I was in the court. I found a few guys there warming up. Lane was on the benches. I came by and he saw approaching.

"Hey, Chris" I looked at him. "Put on those clothes over there. The sneakers are under the bench over there, you will need them."

"Thanks, sir."

I got the clothes and looked for the lockers.

"What are you doing?" coach asked me.

"Where are the lockers, sir?"

"Just change here, unless you're not wearing underwear. Are you?"

"Yes, sir. That's alright."

And it was perfectly fine to me, indeed. I had no shame of my body and, although my face looked boyish, my body was something else. I had hair in my legs and a few on my chest. Showing off my body made me feel older somehow. I felt more masculine.

I changed quickly and moved into the court. I wanted to talk to the other guys, but coach didn't give me time for that. We started practice straightaway. I wasn't told what was going on, but I understood a few things from just observing my surroundings. To start with, I was the only one wearing white, the rest of the team was in red. The main team was composed by five guys: Bernard, Pete, Craig, Drew and Damian. I was playing with them, so I considered myself part of that team.

I was a little embarrassed there. The guys had a level of intimacy that I wasn't part of. I could see that they were holding up the fun and laughter because of me. They'd look at me and become dead serious. I knew what was going on. I was the new guy. They were probably testing me out. I could deal with that. I gave my best. I had to prove I was good enough for that team. As we played, gradually, they started to call me by my name. "Chris! There! Chris! Here!" and then, sometimes, "yeah, good boy!"

I sensed my boyish look would turn me into the team's boy. It was unavoidable. I decided not to worry about it. I was the new guy, and this was part of the ritual. Complaining would just make my relationship with them harder. If I were to make this work, I'd have to commit to one thing: sacrifice. Only through sacrifice I'd get what I wanted, that is, acceptance.

It didn't take too long for the guys stop calling me by Chris and call me by `boy'. And the laughter would follow up.

"How old are you, boy?" the guy I assumed to be Bernard asked me.

"18" this time I didn't dare to call him sir. But it almost happened.

"God, it looks like you're fresh from elementary school. If it weren't by the hair in your legs, I'd say you're thirteen."

"Focus, bitches!" the coach yelled.

Being called a bitch didn't make me feel bad at all. On the contrary, it made me feel as part of that group. I was a bitch like any of them. Besides, being a boy didn't sound so terrible when those who called me boy' were bitches'.

This was all new for me. It was a different world. Growing up as an only son gave me privileges that life was now taking away from me. And, although it may sound ridiculous, I wanted to have part of this spoiled little boy gone. I wanted to grow up, to be a `bitch' with my other teammates. I just didn't know the limits of acceptance or what I would do to be accepted.

We finished practice and the guys walked away as if they didn't know me. Well, they didn't, but I thought they'd come to me and introduce themselves. I was left by myself on the court and it pissed me off. I think the coach noticed my disappointment. He came to me.

"Well, I think you're in. Make sure you have your Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings free for training. Every week, no exception. If you've got classes at these days, let me know and I'll fix your schedules. Ok?" He kept looking at my face that showed my feelings. "Don't care about them. The thing is, there were other guys training here before, just like you. Some would get in the team, but then they would give up or I'd have to ask them to leave. Yeah, sometimes things don't work as we plan. Don't take for granted you're permanent. You'll be tested every day. Anyway, they're tired of hanging out with guys that end up not in the team. I'm sure they will once you're really in."

"It's alright. I'm fine with that." I faked a smile.

I walked to my clothes and decided to change there, as I've done before.

"You not taking a shower?"

"Not today. Next time. Gotta rush." And another fake smile.

I've checked one of these lockers before. The shower rooms were open, which meant no privacy. And here is where I gotta be honest about something that's very private to me. My boyish face is not the only part of my body I disliked the most. There's another part of me that didn't develop as it should. My penis matches my face. It's the most terrible secret I've been carrying since I got into puberty. I believe that's what makes me so uncomfortable whenever I'm trying to hang out with chicks. That's what will keep me away from the common showers. I knew it would bring me trouble sooner or later, but I had no other choice. I just had to learn how to deal with my reality.

Coach Lane was still watching me from the court as I changed.

"Take those home and wash'em. Next time, you can leave'em in the basket inside the lockers. Come prepared to actually use the lockers, alright?"

"Yes, sir." It was ok as long as I wasn't in the shower room.

"I see you gotta nice legs out there, but you gotta make them stronger since you spend a lot of time squatting. Go to the gym around the corner and say you're with me. They'll give you a pass.

Eventually, I'll try to get someone to train you, but I can't guarantee it. It would be best if you could find one yourself. There are not enough PTs this year. Got it?"

"Yes, sir. I'll do it today."

"Good. See you on Wednesday then."

I went to the gym and enrolled myself for free since I was in the team. I got to learn the space, and a few trainers. One of them, this muscled Asian guy who should be no older than 25, showed me around with a huge smile on the face. I took it for granted he loved to be in the gym. He said his name was Greg, but people called his Mr. Lee. I wanted to ask why, but he said he'd explain it to me another time. "Long story, long story."

"I was wondering if someone could help me with my training. Could you? I know it's been busy here, but it'd help me a lot."

"Dude, I wish I could. But, as you say, it's busy and I don't have any time available for new students. Well, not till next term, at least. But I can put your name in the waiting list. Can I?"

"Sure. Thanks anyway, sir."

"Quit the sir. Call me Lee."

"I thought you didn't like people calling you Mr. Lee..."

"No, I don't mind. But this name has a story, you know. Well, let me tell you."

And Mr. Lee started telling stories about these other guys who he met years ago, and jokes that weren't funny, but I laughed anyway. The guy couldn't stop talking and, in the end, I didn't get why he was called Mr. Lee.

"Gosh, I'm late." Lee said looking at his watch. "You already know the place. You can start whenever you want. And welcome. See you around."

Man, this guy could talk.

I looked around and liked the place. I could start straightaway, but I didn't have my gym gear with me. `Tomorrow morning, first thing' I thought.

Very early on the following day, I went back there and start my new routine. Mr. Lee helped me to set the exercises, sets, reps, and the equipment I should be using. He started talking about the brunette that worked at the reception. He bragged about how he could get down on her whenever he felt like. I was appalled. I barely knew the guy and he was telling me the dirtiest secrets about the chick. If she only knew!

Before too long, Lee found other stuff to attend and left me alone. I couldn't complain. I could finally put my earphones on and focus on my lifting. As the coach instructed, I'd focus more on my legs. I was proudly wearing shorts and showing off the hair I had over there. I can't say I was hairy though. The hair was whitish and thin, but still, it was my `hairy' legs and chest that made me feel more masculine. I looked at the mirror and, yes, I did look like a muscled-thirteen-year-old boy.

I found myself roaming around and often bumping against this other guy who'd probably on his leg day. Eventually, I thought it'd be a good idea to introduce myself. I needed to start making friends.

"Leg day, uh?" I asked the obvious as means to start a conversation.

"Oh, kinda. My trainer wants me to focus on legs so it's legs almost every day." He looked a bit shy when he said that. Or perhaps he was just a shy guy after all. I just couldn't understand why. He had a great physique. And, as for the face, we were not so different.

"Christian. But I go for Chris." I offered my hand for a shake. And he shook it.

"Bob. It sounds like an old name, I know, but that's the one I have." He smiled.

"Oh, not at all. Do you go by other names?"

When I asked him about other names he'd go by, he seemed a little uneasy. I knew I talked to much and made a lot of questions. It was me trying to be friendly.

"Well, my trainer and now even my girlfriend call me Patty. But don't go there, please. It annoys me."

"Course. But why Patty?" Should I stop questioning him?

"Coz my surname is Pattinson. Anyway, just forget about that. I just told you because since you're here, you'll probably see him around calling me by that name and you'll know why."

I liked his explanation. He was thinking I'd be around him time enough to see his trainer calling him Patty. That meant he expected us to be talking more often. And, in fact, we did.

Time passed by and Bob and I became much closer. He introduced me to his girl, Alice. What an astonishing woman. Man, Bob got me impressed. She was something else. So confident and upfront. We talked a lot as we've been to the same scout camping years ago. We laughed about a lot of shit that went on over there. Finally, I was feeling accepted.

As for the volleyball practice, I was gradually being integrated into the team as the guys started to agree I was there to stay. At first though I talked basically only to two of them. Craig, who was the team captain and had to talk to me due to his duty as captain, and Bernard who I started feeling like a potential friend. Bernard was tall, lean and tanned. He looked like a dancer to me, don't know why. He had his way on the court. Every time I saw him blocking, I thought about how easy he made it look like. The guy was that good.

He was also a great team player. He and Craig were the ones who would support me the most. I felt Craig did it just because he had to, but Bernard did it because he wanted to make me feel good. Or that's how I thought. He was the only one to tap my butt when I did a nice move. It may sound weird, but it made me feel great because I saw them doing that to each other all the time, but no one did to me. Maybe I should feel embarrassed about it, but I didn't. I realized I needed to be part of that team more than anything. I needed to bound. Bounding is the word. And I always thought that bounding required sacrifice. So, that was ok and period.

They never asked me about my habit of not taking shower with them. It was as if they didn't care or they just pretended not to. Every day after training, I'd go to the lockers, change clothes (being careful to always keep my undies on) and get lost when the guys were already into the showers.

I think by this time I couldn't complain about my life whatsoever. My connection with my teammates wasn't what I expected yet, but it was getting better. I've got friends in classes and I had Bob who turned out to be my best friend there. We even had a few classes together, which made my days much better. I've met a few chicks, but none of them seemed interested in me. I knew the problem was me. I was a disaster at connecting with them. That was terrible because there's one thing I couldn't get rid of by having male friends and good teammates: none of them would put down my fire. I was constantly horny although I tried to behave and not let it show. I was a chronic masturbator when alone in my room. It pissed me off to be living in campus because the internet they offered was monitored. We weren't allowed to use it for porn. So, besides using my 3G, which consumed a lot of my data, I also decided to go old school. I bought a couple of magazines and got the posters that came in the middle pages so I could hang them on my walls. The walls were covered with hot naked chicks. It made me feel better to know they were there even knowing I wouldn't ever have any of them to myself. I imagined myself fucking each one of them every morning and evening. Sometimes, more than twice a day. As I tried to save data, I'd read erotica on my phone regularly. I'd start and wouldn't stop till I finished the story. I could be on my bed doing that for hours and then cum buckets on my naked chest. It was pure compulsion and I couldn't stop it.

That's also the reason why I never let anyone into my room. Not only because of the posters, but also because sometimes I felt like it smelt like cum. I got used to it, but other people could feel there was something off about the place. Bob tried to come over sometimes, but I never allowed him in. One day though, he surprised me and knocked at my door unexpectedly. I opened it and he saw himself on the other side.

"Nice room you got here." He said seemingly oblivious to the smell of spunk.

"Oh, you mean the chicks that keep me company?"

We laughed. He took a closer look and then sat down at my chair that was across from my bed where I laid down. We talked for a while, and every now and then I could catch him looking at my legs to the point I had to ask what he was looking at.

"I wish I had hair on my legs like you do. I mean, I didn't want to be hairy, just enough like you."

I took the chance to take a closer look at his legs and, in fact, they were as smooth as baby skin.

"Oh, but it's ok, isn't it? There's a lot of guys out there going for body trimmers, wax shaving, even laser shit. You don't need to bother about that." I laughed.

"I'd never shave, but now who cares, right? I don't need to think about it..."

"What's going on? You seem bothered." I tried to empathise with him even when talking about body hair.

"It's nothing... Well, it's just... What the fuck. It's my trainer. You know how bad I wanna be a bodybuilder, right? And the guy is the best. He can definitely help me out. But the guy keeps talking shit..." I could see how bothered he was. Bob didn't know how to express himself.

"What kind of shit?"

"Dude... Shit about my ass. That I got the best ass he's ever seen..."

"Is the guy gay?"

"No. I wouldn't let him train me if he was. He's got a girl and everyone I talk to tells me he's as straight as it can be. But sometimes I'm not sure..."

"What happened?" I was still trying to empathise with him but couldn't really understand the issue Bob was going through.

"Don't take me wrong, ok? I'm just telling you this coz I've talked to a lot of people already and they all seem fine with all this shit. I'm trying to understand if I'm just overreacting. I mean, once in a restaurant, I was there with Alice, he with his girl and another couple. Then there was this fag too. He's a real fag. Then my trainer got the fag and put him under the table. He makes the fag suck his dick right there. Can you believe this shit? In front of his girl."

"Wow" That was something I've never heard of.

"Disgusting, right? And he was there laughing and making fun of that nasty fag to me. Then now he keeps talking about my ass and how nice it looks. Sometimes I feel he thinks I'm a fag too."

"Sorry, but I still don't get it. Why you telling me this?" I couldn't understand it.

"I told you! I needed to talk to someone I trust. I've said this to Alice so many times, but she always says there's nothing wrong about it. I told her about the restaurant, and she and other friend of hers said guys do this kind of shit all the time around here. She said it's some sort of bonding. Karl just wanted to play with me coz he's my trainer and he's superior to me."

When Bob said the word `bonding,' it got me thinking. I was struggling so bad to be accepted by my teammates and they seemed to be avoiding me. The story Bob told me seemed quite extreme, but maybe that's what they were expecting from me. I mean, I didn't know who these guys were or what kind of fun they used to have. I was the new member in the team, just like Bob was the new guy in the gym. They had fun making a guy suck them under a restaurant table. It could sound weird to someone like my parents, but maybe that was the college reality that I didn't understand. It made sense to me. I couldn't get the guys to acknowledge me if I couldn't think and act like them. I'd be forever an outcast. College students were way more hardcore than my high school friends. Of course! I was trying to have their friendship acting like a teenager. I looked at the naked women on my walls, I was such a teenager.

"Who's Karl?"

"My trainer!"

"I don't know what to say. I'm new here, you know that. So, let me try to explain what I think from the little experience I've had here, right? I'm lost trying to make friends and being accepted. Sometimes I feel no one cares about me. Well, except for you and a few other guys in class. But it's been hard. I used to be popular in high school, and now... look at me. Surrounded by these naked chicks like a schoolboy. Now that I'm listening to you, I think that maybe I'm just playing safe, you know? Maybe life in college should be more challenging..."

"Are you saying that having a fag sucking you under a restaurant table is ok because it's challenging?" he seemed pissed. I think because I wasn't saying what he wanted to hear.

"Wait. I'm also trying to understand it. As I said, I don't understand this world very well. But I'm trying. The easiest conclusion is to think everyone is gay and we're not. Everyone is wrong and we're not. Do you get it? If I were you at table, I'd probably freak out too. I'd probably leave or ask this Karl to fuck off, I don't know." Bob seemed surprised when I said that. Maybe because he had a different reaction to mine. "But what if we acted differently? What if we just played along? I don't mean we should let this guy suck us off, but what if... what if we just made fun of the situation like they did? Maybe that's what he was expecting from you."

"You don't understand... It's not only this..."

"What else?" I asked.

"My ass, dude. The guy keeps talking about my ass all the time. Like he's obsessed with it."

"And what does he say?" I kept inquiring trying to grasp the mind behind these actions. Maybe if I could understand this Karl, I'd finally get to understand my teammates.

"A lot of shit. That it looks nicer than average. That I gotta work it out more. And he wants to see it, even touch it. It's all this shit together."

"But he's your trainer, right? Trainers do that, don't they? Sorry if I'm not taking the full picture, but from what you're saying..." and he interrupted me again. Bob was getting very upset.

"There's a lot more, dude."

"What else?"

"I don't know. A lot of shit like this."

I felt like he was holding on and not telling me everything that happened. Or maybe he was just feeling defeated. I didn't want to fight him though.

"What I'm trying to say is just don't overthink. It'd be easier for you too. You want to be a bodybuilder and he's your best shot. Will you just let it all go because you're freaking out now?"

"I'm not freaking out, ok? The dude is crossing all the lines. Fuck, no one understands me. Alice keeps saying this is all normal. Where would this be normal? In gayland maybe." He was calming down, but I could tell his mind was still racing. I was sure he wasn't telling me everything. But what could it be? If it was something completely out of the boundaries, he wouldn't be hanging out with his trainer anymore, right? Bob could find someone else. In the end, I thought it was all because he knew he was wrong but couldn't admit it.

We ended up talking about other subjects and he calmed down. When he decided to leave, I couldn't help but look at his ass. Although wearing shorts, he had indeed a great butt. I couldn't see how Karl was wrong about saying this to him. That was an award-winning ass. Nothing gay about acknowledging that. Probably, Bob had this countryside mentality. People who can't even clean their own asses afraid that would turn them gay.

A few days later, I found myself going back to the gym and something unexpected happened. I was in my normal routine when I found this big guy who looked south Italian coming towards me. I knew it was me he was looking for because his eyes were set on me. Who could he be? What could he want from me?

"Are you Chris?" he asked once he got to me.

"Yeah. Who are you?"

"I'm Karl. Patty's PT. Or not his PT anymore. Not sure. Nice to meet you." He extended me his hand and I shook it.

"What's happened?" I asked concerned.

"Nothing really. But I got you a deal if you're up to it."

"What's that?"

"I got it you're on the volleyball team, right? You must be training with Lane."

"Yes."

"He must've told you gonna need a trainer. But probably you haven't found any. Am I right?"

"Yeah."

"So, here's the deal. I'm getting myself back into the training business and I need a portfolio. I was working with Patty, but he's a freaking out bitch who turned me down. I need to showcase my work. I already got contacts in the industry and a page in a bodybuilding magazine where I'll talk about my work. I need pictures there. I'm focusing on men's legs, that's what I wanna showcase. I agree to train you if you let yourself be photographed and allow the pictures to go public. What do you say?"

I was sitting on the extensor machine. I didn't know what to say as I wasn't expecting such an unexpected approach.

"I'll talk to Lane and let him know I'll be training you. I'm sure he'll be happy. Is that alright with you?" he continued not giving me time to think.

"Yeah, sure."

I don't think someone left me out of words like Karl did. What was this guy about?

"Be aware you'll be working out those legs and glutes a lot. Hope you don't freak out about that?"

"I don't think I would" I managed to say.

"And be aware I'll need a lot of your focus. I don't want just part of it. You can keep part of it to studies and volley, but the rest to me. I need the best of you in that magazine. Are we in accordance?"

"Ok, I think so. If Lane..."

"Leave Lane to me. He won't get rid of you, unless you screw up badly. We're old time buds. Relax."

It's funny the way Karl talked to me. I couldn't say anything but yeah' and ok'. He knows how to get what he wants. He knows what words to choose, and exactly what to say to keep you agreeing to whatever. I thought of Bob. Probably he was shocked with Karl because he couldn't handle his authoritarian way of dealing with people. I thought I could. If I could get along with him, I could do the same with anyone else, even the guys on my team.

"I'll need you to change your work out hour. This is too early for me" he handed me his phone. "Type your number and I'll get back to you with the details. If you have other things to do, let me know. But remember this is now your number one priority. At least, till I'm done with you."

"And how long is this gonna take?" I gave the phone back to him.

"Hopefully no longer than a couple of months" and he took a long look at my legs. "Stand up and let me take a look at your legs."

I did as he asked. So, I stood up.

"Loose the shorts."

"Here?" I know I was proud of my legs, but the gym was busy, and I'd be standing there in my undies for everyone to see.

"Why not? You wouldn't be the first one. Trust me, no one will look at you."

I didn't know if I should feel happy or sad about it.

As I didn't mind about being in my undies, I let my shorts fall around my ankles and let him have a look. At the same time, maybe subconsciously, I was trying to see if Bob was right when he told me Karl should be gay. Was he looking me with the eyes of someone who wanted to fuck me? Or was it just professional looking? I could be naïve in many aspects, but I thought I could tell one from the other.

He made me turn around. I saw people walking in the room and, probably, Karl was right. No one was paying attention to me. He took his time looking at my ass, he even touched it. I didn't know how to react, but still didn't think it was bad enough to freak out.

"Send me a picture of your bare ass so I can make a before/after photo."

"Wait. Will you have my bare ass in the magazine?"

"Probably. But no face picture. So don't worry coz no one will know it's you. Besides, once we're done, you'll feel so proud of your legs and butt, you won't mind have them exposed in full colour."

"I don't know about that."

"Trust me, ok? Go back to work now. See you tomorrow. I'll send you a text with further instructions. Oh, and if you still don't know if you can trust me, ask anyone here. Anyone. Ask Lane. See ya!"

And just like he came, he was gone.

Next day, I had volley training. I arrived a little earlier and found Lane working on his timetable. He smiled at me. Maybe this was the first time he received me with a smile.

"I heard Karl will be training you. That's good to know. The guy is the best. He told me he's gonna make your legs the best as possible in a couple of months. That's perfect! Do what he says coz the guy knows what he's doing." I didn't think I could say he was wrong. I trusted Lane and he trusted Karl. I was just thinking how Bob let such a good trainer go like this.

I was also thinking about how Karl treated Bob. The idea that these guys at uni have different ideas of what's fun. I don't think they were interested in my life as it was, so what if I tried to play a character? I could do that.

At the other side of the court, I saw my teammates talking and laughing. Usually, I'd just head to the court and train by myself, but, this time, I thought better and joined them. I knew they were talking about chicks as I heard them laughing and saying words like fuck' and pussy'. It made reconsider my initial thought of joining them, but I still decided to give it a try. I had to understand these guys and how to talk like one of them.

"Hey guys. What you talking about?" I said in a very friendly way.

"Oh. C'mon in, boy." Craig said. "We're talking about chicks. Drew over there decided to start a relationship. Can you believe it?"

Drew was a tall ginger guy who seemed the youngest among the other ones. He seemed to be a fun man, as I always saw him smiling, but we never exchanged more than a few words. So, I didn't know him very well.

"Oh, isn't that good? I mean, all the pussy he can fuck, right?"

"You serious?" Craig continued. "A girlfriend in college? When you can have all the pussies in the world, you decide to stick to only one?"

"Course" I laughed. "How I didn't think about that? I just didn't know he was dating a girl?"

"Why? Should I be dating a boy?" Drew wasn't serious. Everyone was still laughing.

"That's not what I meant..." I laughed back. I wasn't taking this seriously either.

"Sure" Bernard cut me. "Are you into boys, boy?"

"Nah..." and then I said what I shouldn't. "You should see my walls back in the dorms. Got it covered with posters of naked chicks."

"You serious?" Damian's turn. He looked a bit middle eastern; his hair was longer than the rest of us, beard always undone. A piercing look that made me wonder if he was serious or not. "You still do that?"

"Yeah, shame on me. But I've had no luck here with chicks yet. I mean, there's not many options around, right?"

"That's true. Give the little gent here a break." Bernard helped me. "With a face like this, he would have to go back to kindergarten to find a girl to date."

I laughed with them. "Yeah, that's why I was so popular with my classmates in kindergarten. Till last year when I decided to see how's life in college."

And then I made them laugh too. Not because of how I looked, but for something I said. It gave me confidence. That's probably what was wrong with Bob. He was too touchy with guys who just wanted to fool around.

"So, what's the kind of girls you're into?" Damian asked.

"The ones with pussies. Hopefully old enough to have pubes."

"That's my boy." Bernard held me into his arms and let me go. I almost fell as he was much taller than me. "We started to think you were castrated or something. Since you've never joined us in the showers."

"Oh that? No. That's because I go to the gym once I'm done here."

"Got it. Hey, why don't you join us for dinner tonight? There's a pizza place not far from here. Pete's got a car and he'll drive us there."

"Dude, the car is too tiny." Pete said. He was black, shaved hair, very toned with big pecs and biceps. "It's barely enough for the five of us. We should do this another time."

"That's alright" I said. "Don't want to be a burden."

"Not at all." I heard Craig saying. "That's finally a chance for us to get to know you better. I mean, probably you've been thinking we didn't like you, but that's not the case. Thing is, almost every month we've been having problems with liberos who can't do a proper job. How many liberos we had since Jan, guys?"

"I can't even remember. Eight? Nine?" Damian counted with his fingers.

"Maybe more." Then back to Craig. "We were tired of starting bonding with them, just to get to start it all over again the week after. I gotta say, we thought you wouldn't make it through the week. But it's been more than that and you're still here. And from what Lane told me, you might be staying. So, it's about time to let you in. Tonight, we leave at seven. Is that ok for you?"

"Fuck yeah!"

"Fuck yeah?" Bernard was laughing again. "The boy's got potential."

I didn't understand that one, but I laughed anyway. Soon after that, Lane blowed the whistle and we started the day's practice as usual.

After practice, I remembered Karl would send me a message with details of our training. I took my phone and saw he had indeed sent me something. He said we could start that day at eight. According to him, at night we'd have more privacy. I answered. I told him about the pizza night with the guys and that it was important for me, since I was part of the team but wasn't recognized as such.

It didn't take him long to say it was ok, but we'd still have to meet once I was back. He also asked the name of my team captain. I agreed we could meet, and I told him about Craig. I'd let him know once I was back from the night with the guys.

I rushed out of the court and got myself busy with studies till six, when I took a quick shower and dressed up for the big night out.

They came all the way to my dorm to pick me up. When I saw the guys in the car, I almost turned away and left. There's no way I'd fit there. Pete was right. I walked to where they were and stopped by his window that was half open.

"Hey guys. I think Pete's totally right. I don't think I fit in there."

The car was an old convertible, and the five of them were already squeezed in. I thought they'd put me in the trunk, but even the trunk was too small. On the back seat, I saw Drew sitting behind Pete who was driving, Damian in the middle, and Bernard on the other side, sitting behind Craig who was on the passenger seat.

"I'll move my seat forward. You can go on Bernard's lap alright." Craig announced.

I wanted to say `hell no', but could I turn away and leave? What would they think?

"Go to the other side. The restaurant ain't too far, anyway" Pete told me.

I took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. I kept telling myself this was alright. I had to be accepted by these guys and it demanded a trip to the restaurant on another's dude lap. I decided to play a character then. Just pretended this was all fun, and we would laugh about this very soon. Just guys having fun.

On the other side, Craig came out and moved the seat forward so I could fit on the back over Bernard's lap. He was wearing shorts, and so did I. I was in cargo shorts, but he had something thinner like quicksilver board shorts. I wondered if he was wearing underwear. He tapped his legs as if inviting me over for a ride.

"Come over here, boy."

"Hope you don't get too excited over there, Bernard" Pete said. Then he looked at me "this guy doesn't remember last time he had sex. Be careful over there."

"Shut up, Pete" laughed Bernard. "I wouldn't fuck a kid."

"Watch out or the kid can fuck you instead." I said trying to joke with him, but no one laughed. It just felt awkward.

"I can sit on your lap instead, then. Do you think you can handle me?" Bernard defied me while the other guys looked at us.

There was no way I could have someone like Bernard on my lap. He should be twice my size and weight.

"Forget it. Just don't get too excited or I'll report you to the principal." I said and then I felt the guys relaxing again till they resumed the jokes. I turned around and sat down on his waiting laps. I tried not to move all the way down his thighs, I didn't want his dick to touch my butt. However, as Craig sat back on the front seat and moved it back, I slid down till my back touched his belly.

"When was the last time your dick touched an ass, Bernard?" Drew asked from the other side.

"Can't remember to be close to an ass like this since last year. Dude, this boy has a nice ass after all. I wish how it looks like. Uh, must be a nice bubble-butt. Too bad he's never showed it to us."

"Gosh, can you guys talk about something else?" I asked.

"Dude, we're trying to help you." Craig was still laughing. "I don't think it would help if we talked about chicks now."

"Maybe talk about something else then?"

"What else do you wanna talk about? Homework?" Craig continued.

"Maybe volleyball?" I suggested.

"No way. Do you think we go out to talk about the same shit we already talk every day? We go out to talk about chicks, tits, pussy, tits and pussy" Craig finished with a horsey laugh that scared me a little bit.

Of course, what else would a group of young straight men talk about? International politics? These were horny men who lived in a secluded house inside an almost men-only campus. If they decided to go out, it had to have women involved. That's what Bob couldn't understand. Probably, Karl was just a guy like the ones in my team. They wanted to have fun, nothing more, nothing less.

I was brought back to reality when I felt something hard poking my ass. I took a deep breath and tried to pretend nothing was happening, but Bernard had other plans.

"Fuck, I got a hard on" and he had that same horsey laugh that scared me before. Everyone followed suit, and I was the only one embarrassed enough to laugh. As the laughter continued, my brain was working fast, trying to process the events that put me in this situation. I kept thinking about Bob and the stuff he told me, and then the stuff I told him. If he was right, then Bernard was gay, and he was trying to take advantage of me. But it didn't make sense. Bernard couldn't be gay. I mean, they were talking about chicks, right? And what if I was right? They were just having fun, and I was taking this situation too seriously. Maybe I should just join them and have some fun too. But how could I when I had a hard dick pressed against my ass?

As I struggled to get out of my shock, I started laughing like my teammates. At first, I forced myself, but then it got a little easier as I noticed that no one was laughing at me, but at the situation. The guys started talking about how Bernard was ridiculous, what a loser he was. They weren't laughing at me whatsoever.

For some reason, I thought that it should be me the one who would take advantage of the situation. I should just go with the flow and make these guys adore me.

"Don't tell me you're that horny, you bastard?" I said to my own amusement.

"Fuck" that's all he mustered to say.

"And what if I do this?"

I could never see myself doing what I did. I rubbed my ass against his dick. I felt Bernard hands trying to hold my legs still, but I didn't stop my moving. The other guys were all laughing badly as Bernard looked increasingly disturbed. His hands tried to hold me still once again, but the seat ahead of us wouldn't give him much space. All I had to do was to hold the front seat and use my arms to pull myself and then let my body weight slide me back onto his lap.

I must say that after a minute doing this, I forgot what I had rubbing against my ass. I didn't think of it as Bernard's dick anymore. I just didn't think about anything. I just wanted to embarrass him and laugh of his situation. I wanted to make this guy cum and wet his pants. That would be fun.

He knew what I was up to, and I felt his hands trying to stop me as his grip tightened on my legs. Unfortunately to him, to no avail.

"Fuck, stop it, dude!" and as I thought he was done begging he added... "please?"

He was not even calling me boy anymore.

"Don't tell me you're about to cum, Bernard?" I asked as I pushed myself harder onto his lap.

"Nooooooo..." Craig yelled hysterically. At this point, I was not even paying attention to what people in other cars could be thinking. This was a sport car and we were exposed for everyone to see.

"Fuck, fuck..." Bernard was close, and I make my ass work hard on his dick.

Just like that, Bernard came. I noticed his breath heating my neck, his hands holding my thighs even harder, his hip moving forward into my ass, his legs shaking. To my dismay, this was not the only proof of his ejaculation. Within seconds, I started feeling something wet touching my ass. The fucker's cum had impregnated my shorts and was now spreading on the fabric. I tried to move away, but Bernard's hands were still on my legs, and he didn't let me stand.

"Did you cum?" Pete almost had to stop the car because he couldn't stop laughing.

"Yeah, yeah... I did. Very funny." Bernard lamented, and it increased the guys' laughter. I myself wasn't so joyful anymore. I had Bernard's cum wetting my cargo shorts, and soon everyone would know I had my teammate's cream on my ass.

Bernard must have noticed my sudden shock. "What are you worried about now, boy? My cum on your ass?"

Fuck, did he need to say it out loud. Of course, he did. As the guys continued laughing, Bernard brought his hand up to where my ass touched his dick and then put his wet hand on my face.

"It's just cum. And YOU made this."

This was all too fast. I didn't have time to think about what to do when his wet hand touched my nose. His hand smelt like cum. He spread it on my face and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

"Fuck, dude. Disgusting!" Everyone was laughing even harder now, and I was the one they were laughing at. Even Bernard couldn't hold himself. And as he thought of making the fun last, he scooped more of his cum and spread it all over my face again.

"Stop it!" I wasn't trying to be fun anymore, but the laughter just grew louder. I knew I sounded pissed. I was pissed. But my anger would make things worse. I knew that. What could I do? Start a fight? Get out of the car and head back home? I thought of Bob again. That's what he'd probably do. Did I want to end up like him? I felt disgusted, but I couldn't let it show. In the end, it was just cum. `It's ok, this is nothing. You can clean up later.' At the same time, I was also considering my options. What could I do to put an end to this situation and still get a little respect from my team? My first idea was to get my hands wet with his cum and then smear it over everyone's faces, but probably that would be too much for them. I know it was too much for me, but I was still the new guy within that group. I was the one who had to endure that, not them. There was a hierarchy. Depending on my actions, I'd get them pissed and I'd end kicked out from the team.

"Very fun" I managed to say in a not so moody way. I had to at least pretend I wasn't angry about this situation. I thought that maybe if I pretended it wasn't too bad, they wouldn't think this was funny after all and leave me alone.

"Hey, I think you got some on your lips" Drew said as he still laughed at me.

"Fuck" I cleaned my lips with my T-shirt afraid some of Bernard's spunk would get into my mouth. I couldn't deal with that. I was certain that having his cum on my face was bad but bearable, however having it on my tongue would drive me crazy.

"Chicks never complained about the taste. Maybe you'll enjoy it too, BOY!" Bernard tried to mock me, but the guys seemed not very entertained.

"When did it happen, dude?" Craig asked Bernard. "Can't remember any chick you fucked that would swallow your jizz."

"Such a bullshit. Chicks hate the taste of jizz." Pete said from his own experience, apparently.

"Still haven't seen one who would come back for more, unfortunately." Drew seemed a little sad for saying that as if he wanted someone to swallow his swimmers. As I think of it, I think most of the guys want someone to swallow their jizz. It's such a nice and subtle way of dominance and power.

"A lot did. I just didn't tell you guys about it." Bernard answered Craig.

"Bullshit!" Pete reaffirmed his last statement.

I thought that discussion would go on, but Craig stopped it. "Hey, I got an idea."

"What's that?" Bernard asked.

"Well, that's about Chris' ritual?"

"Ritual? What the hell?" I gasped as my hands were still busy trying to clean my mouth and face.

"C'mon, d'you think we'd accept you into the team without a ritual? You know, only the strong ones survive?"

"No one told me anything about rituals."

"Course not." Craig continued. "It wouldn't be a ritual if we told you about it. Well, we were thinking about having your meal in a dog bowl. It's in the trunk. We even put your name on it. You'd have to stay on your fours on the floor like a dog and eat whatever we gave to you."

I wasn't prepared for that. Was that a ritual or bullying? Those were two very different things. "This isn't right. This way you're humiliating me in front of others. I can accept this ritual thing as long as it stays among us."

"As if I was asking your opinion." Craig mocked me. "But I somehow have to agree you're right. But I've got an idea here. Since Chris has already Bern's cum on his face, we could make this his ritual."

"What? Are you suggesting that his ritual is over already?" Bernard sounded even disappointed, as if he wanted me to suffer. Such a bastard.

"Course not. All of us would have the chance to have our cum on his face. What you think?" Craig finished his explanation.

"Hey, course not!" I protested.

"I wasn't talking to you. What do you guys think?"

I felt like I was in a trial. Gosh, I was expecting some sort of hazing, but nothing like this.

"The ritual always lasts for a week." Damen stated as his eyes found mine. "It needs to be for a week at least."

"And how many times would we be allowed to cum on his face?" Bernard asked.

It's funny he didn't say put cum on his face' or something like that. He said, cum on his face'. I didn't think about it at the moment, but of course it meant something else.

"For the week, starting today. Is that alright?" Craig answered.

"Course not." I protested again.

"Shut up. I'm not asking you. Wait till we get something new in the team so you can have some saying on this." Craig gave me the devil. "Bowl or cum?" he asked again.

Pete made a point that their rituals shouldn't be in any way related to sex, but all the other guys agreed this had nothing to do with sex. "We won't be touching him with our dicks, ok? So, this has nothing to do with sex." Bernard sounded excited.

"Ok, then. But I don't want anyone talking about this. So, it must stay with us." Pete gave his conditions.

"Sure." Craig grinned. "That's it then. From today and for the next seven days we must cover our friend here all of our cum. If he survives this week, then he'll be one of us."

Who was Craig fooling by calling me `friend'? I was pissed. I wanted to protest further, but I didn't want to hear Craig asking me to shut up again.

So, was Bob trying to make me aware of this kind of embarrassment? So, was he right after all? But what these guys and Karl had in common? Was all part of some sort of gay conspiracy? Of course not. This was simply the reality of guys hazing guys in a campus full of other guys. That's part of a man's behaviour. Men want to stablish dominance. They want to be at the top of hierarchy and sex shows dominance in an unmistakable way. Of course, it doesn't mean men fuck other men just to prove their superiority, but there are other multiple ways of doing the same without actually putting dicks into holes. And I was experiencing one of these ways.

I realized Pete had stopped the car and I noticed we were facing a cheap Italian restaurant that was, for my amusement, very busy. There was a line of customers waiting outside for a table. Somehow, I felt happy I wouldn't have to eat my meal out of a bowl while I was on all fours on the floor. You know what, why should I worry about something humiliating if no one would know about it? The ones that would know about it, would never tell anyone because, if you think about it carefully, it's not nice to get men talking about cumming with other men around. I could go through with that.

"Lucky I made a reservation." Pete stated.

As we got out of the car, I felt the cold breeze hitting my wet bum. I wanted to cover it, but didn't know how. I took the chance to look at Bernard's wet shorts, just as everyone else noticed the same and started laughing. At least, they were not laughing at me. Bernard caught a jacket that was under his butt and held it against his covered dick. I didn't have the same luck. I tried to cover my ass with my hands, but being careful enough not to touch the jizz.

"Hey, no covering it." Bernard said. "If you're getting to wear our cum from now on, just learn to wear it with pride."

"Gosh!" Still, I could survive that.

We went through the line and got to our table. It was a small table next to the wall. There were two benches on each side of the table that were enough for four in total. Pete got a chair so he would sit at the table's end, but again no space for me. The hostess didn't know what to do with me, coz there was absolutely no room left for me. She was trying to apologize, but Bernard didn't let her. "Don't worry, we know how to handle this."

As she moved away, I felt the panic getting to me. "No way! Not here."

"Oh, you've done it already. Just do it again. The place is full, no one will look at you."

Bernard sat at the end of the table, already next to the wall. Drew showed me the way, as if he said `you're the next'. So, I went in. I tried to squeeze myself in, but no way in hell Drew would be able to sit on my other side. There was no other way. Bernard took the jacket that he used to cover his shorts and patted his lap invitingly.

Not happy, I managed to sit on his lap again. Then Drew sat on our side and Pete covered us as he sat down. I noticed no one was looking at us as they said. It wasn't as bad as I thought. Well, at least, for the first few minutes. Once we made our minds and placed our orders, I felt something pocking my ass.

"Fuck, again?" I spoke out loud. I shouldn't have said anything, but it came out spontaneously.

"What?" Craig let it out from across the table. "Don't tell me you have another boner, Bern."

Another round of laughter and hysteria that were not about me, but that still had me involved. Bernard, as I could see when I looked back over my shoulder, was also laughing as this was the most natural thing in the world.

"You're weird you know that, right?" I asked Bernard who was still laughing and not looking apologetic whatsoever.

"Sorry, but your ass is so round and soft. It reminds me of Angelica. You should see her. You'd understand me."

"Oh, true that." Drew remarked. "Angelica's ass was something else. Gosh, I'd die to get to that ass. I don't know she saw on you." Drew looked at Bernard as the laughter ceased.

"You ask her." Bernard smirked.

I felt a little annoyed that this was becoming natural to all of them. I had a hard dick pressed against my ass in a restaurant and it felt like nothing was happening. Anyway, probably it was better this way. I didn't want people looking at me under this circumstance.

"I feel like I'm gonna cum again, but this time I don't want to waste it in my shorts. C'mon, move on to Drew's lap."

"Why?" I was afraid to ask, but I felt impelled to.

"I gotta fulfill my duty in your ritual. Go!"

Bernard forced me onto Drew's lap who accepted me without hesitation. I was not sure, but I could swear Drew was also a little excited. Continuing whit his plan, Bernard covered his lap with the tablecloth and lowered his shorts. I couldn't believe my eyes, but he was started jerking off as I saw his right arm moving rhythmically.

"Hey, be careful not to cum on me, or I'll kill you." Damian, who sat right across the table, warned.

"Chill, I'll get all in my hand."

I felt like I've heard this story before as my mind went back to Bob and his warnings. Bob was angry at his coach Karl because of an episode that took place in a restaurant, under a dinning table, not very different from what I was going through. Bob said Karl made a guy go under the table and suck his dick while his girlfriend was sitting right next to him. I didn't know those people, Bob said the cocksucker was a fag. So, maybe he liked doing that. I thought this was a normal sort of hazing, and although I was under feeling what it felt like to be hazed, I still believed my teammates were not trying to harass me sexually. Pete was very clear when he said nothing sexual should be involved in their rituals. I compared me with Bob and the cocksucker he talked about. My situation was bad, but probably not as bad as other might have been through. Complaining and whining would only get me isolated and strained from the social life I was struggling to have. Once in the rain, you must be ready to get wet. I still believed that I could survive this situation. After one week, I'd be just like one of them and then things would change for good.

I looked at each of my teammates and realized I was a step closer of becoming like one of them. Bernard was so comfortable jerking off in front of everyone, Pete was a guy of such a strong will, Craig a natural leader, Drew was more introvert but still so assertive, and Damen had the most powerful laugh which showed how little he cared about the others. That was the mentality of those who were doing well in their life as undergrad students. I compared them with Bob, and I knew I'd rather be like them than being like Bob whining about everything all the time.

"Have you guys gone through these `rituals' when you got in the team?" I asked when I found a silence gap in their conversation.

"You kidding me?" Damian said. "Shit, I played naked in the court naked for two weeks. Garry was the captain, remember?" He asked Craig. I had no clue about who Garry was. "He swore it would be only among us, but one day he invited a bunch of chicks to watch us. Fuck, I wanted to die that day."

Craig started laughing. "Man, you even got a hardon when that bitch showed you her tits."

"That's nothing." Pete looked at Craig and then at me. "I had to walk with a leash for a whole month that read team's whore'. I had to walk around in those tight short shorts and a paper sign on my back that read kiss my ass'. I almost quit."

"How many kisses you got?" Craig laughed.

"I made sure I'd forget all of that, right?" Pete sounded a bit more serious than normal. I could see that he was hiding all the nasty details from us.

"You guys complain a lot." Craig continued. "You should see what the guys from the rugby team do. They make your life miserable for the whole semester. They make you move to one of the seniors' rooms and you become their slave, literally. No one talks about it, but I've heard it all from Callum. I don't know the details, but he told me they don't have the `no sex' rule. So, you can imagine."

"True, I've heard it too." Damian said. "I know that by the end of the semester you'll have had a lot of stuff in your ass. I know in the past it was only broom sticks and stuff like that, but now they've got a collection of dildos and buttplugs."

"I've heard all of that." Drew said behind me. "But I don't know. I've also heard they are fucked multiple times a day by everyone in the team. Now, I personally don't believe it. Would you actually go through all of this just to get in a team? And knowing all the rumours like we do, who would apply for that? It's obvious everyone knows about this. Which means they'd be ok with knowing that everyone knows they're taking it up the ass."

I felt weird when I heard Drew saying that because I didn't know any of that. I wondered if I'd still apply for the position if I knew in advance what I'd be agreeing to. Now it was too late. I was involved with these guys already. So, it got me thinking. Were these guys really aware of what would be happening to them? Or, were they all like me? Naïve and stupid.

"Probably you're right" Craig replied. "But I've seen a pledge scratching his senior's balls inside the classroom. And the senior had a massive hardon under his shorts. So, you can be sure that touching balls and dicks is in the menu."

"You guys talking about rugby." Bernard said while his hand still worked on his dick. "The swim club is way worse than that. Wrestling and football then. Not to mention the lacrosse team. Dude, they're the worst."

"Why? What do they do?" Pete asked. It's obvious he wanted to know stories that could be much worse than his. That was the same thing I felt. I loved to know I wasn't the only one being humiliated.

"Haven't you seen those guys walking naked around the campus at night?" Bernard seemed entertained with his own story.

"Yeah, all the time." Drew moved behind me, and I was convicted he was getting even more excited.

"Total servitude and no clothes allowed. That's what I heard. You can only wear clothes for classes and training. And they also do that for a whole semester."

"Fuck, that's why Rick one day told me that volley is for pussies. He said we're not a team, but a barbie house filled with Kens." Craig seemed pissed.

"That bastard. I should've kicked his ass last month after the party at the deltas" Pete was also angry.

"It's not only him. It's obvious others think the same. I just think probably we should change our rituals. Make it like theirs." Bernard gave me the grin.

"Hey, that's not what we agreed." I spoke up when I realized this was turning back to me.

"True. This shouldn't be about you." Craig nodded. "But it's up to you now. I wouldn't change the no sex rule ever. But we should make our ritual longer. It should last the whole semester. And we should get back with the leash, so people would know that the pledge is part of our team. I think the jizz on your face is hardcore enough to give people the right impression about us and, at the same time, we're not abusing you in any way. But here's the thing. We're only going on with this if you accept it. I know it sounds like a lot to ask, but think about the team. The guys over there are calling us pussies. You can help us stop that. Your help will be forever appreciated."

"Don't know about that. Don't want people talking shit about me coz they know I'm coming on a dude's face." Pete protested.

"But that's how everyone else do it. We wouldn't be the only ones. For the team, man." Craig said in a very convincing way.

What should I say? Craig made it seem like such an easy task after all the stories I heard.

"Do I have to walk around with cum on my face?" That question was an evidence of my upcoming agreement. Otherwise I'd said `no fucking way' straightaway. Craig knew that, so I saw that grin getting even wider.

"Course. But that's all. Well, maybe you can go out with the team's uniform just to make it even more obvious you're a pledge in our team. That's the whole point, right?"

"But six months..." I still thought it was too much.

"That's ok. Pete here might have to leave the team soon, and then we'll be recruiting again. As soon as we get someone new, you're good to go. Then you're one of us. You'll be the one giving the orders. Probably you'll need to go on with this for no more than a couple of months."

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." Bernard announced, which brought our attention back to him. He had four or five spasms before I saw another grin.

"The first of many to come." He still didn't know if I had accepted the proposition, but his cream-filled hand still moved towards my face. He didn't just spread it on my face as I expected. He just put his hand two or so inches above my face and let the jizz run down till it reached my cheek.

I tried to reach for the napkin, but Bernard didn't let me. "As I said before, just wear it with pride. And as for your hair..." he then put his still wet hand all over my hair. "I think you could use some gel here."

"Ew... that's disgusting." I said, but no one else looked disgusted as I did.

"You'll get used to it. That's just water with some other stuff in it." Bernard was laughing. "You came from this, right? One day you were a little spermatozoid like the millions that are now running down your face. It's like going back to your origins."

That made everyone laugh, besides me. As the jizz ran down my cheek, the waitress arrived with our dishes. She startled me when I heard her voice, so I was the first one to get her attention as I turned to her. She looked at my face but didn't look surprised.

"Oh, just make sure you guys don't annoy the families, ok? Who ordered the carbonara?"

"See? It happens all the time." Craig said.

"More than you imagine." She smiled. "Boys will always be boys."

"Sure we will" Bernard finished.

"Whatever you do just make sure it doesn't touch me, ok?" Drew asked as the jizz fell from my cheek and stopped on my shirt.

"Fuck, how do I clean this?" My fettuccine was put on the table in front of me. Bernard pulled it to his side.

"It can stay here. Come back to my lap, so maybe I can add another load to your face."

Drew and Bernard got me back to his lap as I felt like a puppet doll in their hands.

"How much of these am I supposed to have on my face?" I felt increasingly lost.

"The more the better, right?" Craig answered as he forked a few pieces of gnocchi. "Otherwise, it will be meaningless."

"Hope you enjoy." The waitress said and left. Gosh, she was still there. For a moment, I didn't know if she meant I should enjoy my carbonara or the cum on my face.

And that's how our dinner went on. As the time passed by, I even forgot the jizz and Bernard's limp dick pressing against my bum. I was lucky that he didn't have another hard on and soon we were back in the car and after a quick look at my reflexion in the window, I noticed I couldn't see any trace of cum although it felt like I had dried glue on my skin. I was back on Bernard's lap as Pete drove us back to the campus. I was the first one to get out as my building was the first one they drove past and Pete stopped right where he picked me up.

As I got out, Craig who was still on the passenger's seat, talked to me through the window. "Hey, I was thinking over here about a couple of things. First of all, you need to have cum on your face all the time or this won't work. Cum is white when fresh but after a while it becomes transparent and no one can see it. We're five over here, but that wouldn't be enough. We are one of the teams that play volley, there are seven others counting the bench. Can I ask them to help us? It must make thirty of us, I guess."

"Are you serious?" I gasped as my imagination grew short.

"Yep. You give me your timesheet with the names of the classes you'll be taking, so I'll let them know where to find you. I'll give you a list with their names as well, so you know who's allowed to cum on you."

"Do you think thirty will be enough for the whole semester?" asked Damian who seemed quite interested now.

"Don't know. Probably not. But we can figure out what to do later." Craig answered him and then came back to me. "And as it's good for you to have cum on your face from the moment you step out of this building in the morning, it'd be great if you could jack off before leaving and cum on your own face. Do you think you can do this? Just remember to make it look like a man actually came on your face. It can't look fake. The load Bern poured on your cheek looks like placed there on purpose. If people think we're faking this, we'll be fucked. It needs to look natural. You know, it needs to splash and get messy. Can you do that?"

"I..."

"For the team?" and he offered me his fist waiting for a bump. I was afraid but still willing to do that for the team. It would be over soon.

"For the team." We bumped fists. Oh, the sacrifices we make for the team.

"Beautiful. See you tomorrow at practice with a load on that face. Night."

I said my goodbyes and moved to the building's door when I saw a known face waiting for me.

"Karl? Shit, I forgot you wanted to see me."

"Just got here. I was about to text you. Let's go to your room?" He said in a way that suited him. He didn't seem to give me a choice when he wanted something. He could have asked `can we go to your room?', but that wouldn't sound like him.

"Sure, but what's this about?"

"Just need to measure you up. For the before and after photo."

"Oh, sure." Well, he sounded forceful but still friendly somehow. I let him in, and we went to my room.

"You smell like cum. And I can see dry cum on your shorts over your ass. Why's that?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"Oh! It's a..."

"You're new in the team, right? How long will it last?" his calmness was thrilling. Perhaps Karl was the best example of what was the mentality in a university environment. That was sharply different from what I used to see at high school. I don't know if it amazed me, or if it terrified me.

"What will last?"

"For how long will they be hazing you?"

"Probably six months, I guess." I felt a little awkward about the situation and talking about it so openly felt different, almost surreal.

"And what's it about? You gotta give them a lap dance till they cum?" Karl seemed perfectly used to all of this as if it was the most normal thing to do.

"NO!" I answered almost instantly as if giving lap dances was worse than being jizzed on the face. "No, I mean... They... they get to cum on my face. The one on the shorts was an accident."

"Ok. Well, jizz is good for the skin. See the good side of it." Karl was looking for something in his backpack and didn't even look at me.

"Do you... do you think people will make fun of me?"

"Sure they will. But it won't last for six months. Probably they'll give you names that eventually they'll forget once the hazing is over. I mean, everyone in this campus must have gone through some sort of hazing before. It's almost entirely a men's only campus."

"Did it happen to you?"

"No. Not me, but I'm almost an exception. Just do a quick research and you'll be surprised. A lot of the stars you'll get to know have been harassed back in the time. The thing is no one talk about it. That's actually something I should've done. I don't know much about their past. Make a dossier on them and then show it to me, will ya? That'd be interesting. D'you think you can do that?" Karl proposed. I didn't know how I could do that, but that could be a good idea. That'd be something that would help me go through that semester without damaging my pride too much.

"Yeah, sure. Just don't know how..."

"I'll give you some names. People you can go for questioning. Say I sent you and they will help you out. Just be careful not to let the cum on your face fall on other guys or you'll get in trouble."

"Craig said he'll get thirty guys to cum on me, is that even possible?" My mind was still set on what was about to happen to me.

"Sure. There are thousands of men in this campus. I think three or four thousand of us. Thirty is nothing. As I said, hazing is normal here and the ones involving cum are not new, although most of it is not made public. Actually, if you're not in teams and don't pay much attention to what's going on around, you can graduate without knowing anything. I've never been part of any team. I train by myself and the same goes for Patty. I'm not an expert."

"I'll be execrated" I found in Karl someone I could express my embarrassment. I felt like I could trust him. If there was a food chain in the campus, he was on top of it all.

"I see you like women a lot." Of course, he saw the posters on my walls. "You'll need to keep spanking the monkey for at least a semester. Make it a year if you think about hanging out with chicks who study here. They wouldn't be going out with someone who has god knows how much cum on the face. But they'll forget it. Soon there'll be other pledges here, and you won't even remember all of this. No one will. You see, after a while, it's not even fun anymore. A joke told a hundred times become boring, and no one wants to be boring here."

Karl made me feel better, although I still felt uneasy about what would happen on the following day. The first day of my `ritual'.

"Won't they think I'm gay?"

"Don't start. You sound like Patty. Just face the facts, ok? This is a campus made for men, even if you find a few chicks around, it's still meant for men. The chancellor is an ogre. Once he even made us feel like hazing was healthy and should be part of our routine. He thought of it as a way of toughing us up. He believes only the strong ones should survive. Of course, he apologized and said he didn't mean that shit, but that's what he believes when he's not being watched. And most of the coaches and teachers here agree with him. Almost all of them are also men and they're tough too. People like Patty don't survive here if they don't change. When you wear cum, think of that as a mask you're wearing to fit in. Start with this paranoia about fags and you'll be doomed. Understood?"

I nodded. Karl sounded like he belonged in the army. If there were tough guys out there, he was one of them. No wonder he was so popular in the gym. Even Lane idolized him. I was sure he knew what he was talking about.

"Good. Now I need to take your measures and the photos. You can't take them yourself. It won't look professional enough. Strip and put this on."

Karl gave me a jockstrap that had a pouch for my dick and left my bum fully exposed. I didn't feel like complaining, I had accepted that. But I couldn't hide my embarrassment. This was still a lot to take in. I was still a spoiled boy who belonged to a school that had me as an inspiration. I played by the school's rules to be popular there, and now I had to relearn the rules coz they were entirely different and new.

"Rush, I don't have the whole night. I'll say it once again, this is a men's campus. Nudity here is taken for granted. Probably, if you open the window, you'll find a bunch of guys walking naked. If you're ever forced to do that, just try not to be seen by security or you'll get in trouble."

Ok, nudity was a given. I could go with that. I stripped naked, but not before turning around because I didn't want Karl to see my dick. I put the jockstrap on and faced him.

"What else?"

"Don't move. I'll take your measures."

With a measuring tape, Karl started to do his job. He focused only on my lower body, disregarding anything that was above my waistline.

From his backpack, he got something that looked like a professional camera. He asked me to stand near the wall and took his first shot.

"Bend over. Hands on your knees."

I did as he asked, but I was aware that this way he'd be seeing my asshole. What kind of magazine would publish that?

"Now hand on your feet. Don't bend the knees."

And it increased my exposure self-awareness. But I chose not to say a word. I trusted Karl with all my heart.

"Open your ass cheeks with your hands and squeeze your anus."

I couldn't ask him anything. I just couldn't. I didn't want to be like Bob. I knew that anything I said would upset him. He'd compare me to Bob and say I wouldn't survive in that environment. I swallowed my pride. What the fuck! If he wants to see my asshole, let him do so. Was that gay? I seriously couldn't say. But I'd never take Karl for a fag just because of a picture of my asshole. Once he was done with the photo, he groped my ass with his left hand. Then he held my thighs, calves and then moved his hand back to my ass.

"We gonna need to get this in a much better shape. Probably three months will do it. But you gotta commit, understood? I'll give you a diet that you have to follow. And when we're training you just obey. No contesting. Play by the rules and you'll be alright. See you tomorrow. And, by the way, I don't care about cum on your face, but no cum on your legs. I'll need to touch them. Got it?"

"Yes..." I almost said `sir' again, but I held it up. As I saw him turning to leave, I remembered I still had his jockstrap.

"Oh, keep the straps and wear them every day we train. Here, I bought you three pairs." He got the other two and left on my desk. Don't worry about tomorrow. You'll do fine as long as you don't panic like Patty.'

"Sure..."

"And, by the way, does the word `Frau' means anything to you?" Karl asked me.

"No, I don't think so. Why?"

"I thought so. Never mind. See you tomorrow, and don't be late."

He left me in my room wearing nothing but the jockstrap he gave me. I took a deep breath and tried to keep myself sane. I could do this. That'd become my mantra for the rest of the semester.

End of part 01

Again, please send me e-mails with suggestions, support and even critics. I might take a while to answer but don't let it demotivate you. Without your e-mails I wouldn't feel like continue writing.

As you might have noticed, English isn't my first language, but I'll do my best to keep writing and sharing my stories with you. I'll keep posting this and new stories if I feel you guys are enjoying them. There's nothing more rewarding than knowing that my stories are making other guys cum. So please do send me an e-mail if you want me to keep writing.

From Australia to the world.

I have also posted the following story at Nifty:

/gay/college/ranchs-bitch/ (complete)

/gay/college/from-straight-to-bitch-club (ongoing)

/gay/authoritarian/becoming-my-flatmates-bitch/ (ongoing)

/gay/highschool/a-bitchs-birth (complete)