THE GREAT FRAT CONTEST
Category: Gay Male Authoritarian/Raunch
by: Z
Author's Note: Thank you for reading, please donate to nifty if able.
Disclaimer: The following contains explicit scenes of male sex and a variety of consensual activities. It also features some scenes that are explicitly fantasy and should not be attempted. This story may not be copied or posted to any other websites without explicit permission from the author. All characters depicted are above 18 years of age. If any of this content is offensive to you or illegal to access in your geography, please do not proceed.
College was great. You get away from your folks. You get out on your own. You get to completely start over (from the most part) from highschool. I know that last part benefitted me pretty well. It took me a while before I fit in most places. And I went through quite an awkward phase in my highschool years. I blossomed late, had trouble with girls, and didn't do well on team sports.
When I was accepted to a big state university it seemed like I was leaving all that behind me. I had matured, filled out a little bit, (I'm still fairly lanky and skinny but every little bit helps haha), and I'm ore comfortable in a social setting.
I had resolved to make college infinitely better than highschool. To do that, I assumed I would need to join a fraternity. This inevitably led me to try and join one of the most popular frats on our campus: Alpha Lamda Chi. They guys seemed nice enough. They encouraged me to rush. They all looked like men, though. Scruff on their faces, hard muscled bodies, deep confident voices. It made me feel like a 14 year old freshman again.
They urged me to rush. So that's what I did. The initial parties were great. I got to know some of my fellow classmen and even met some nice girls too.
Then I woke up today...
I had been at a party last night. Not directly for the frat I was rushing with, but another party off campus at one of their buddy's house. He wasn't in the frat anymore but he still lived in town and liked to party so it was a natural fit for them I guess.
Anyways, we were drinking hard. The other parties the guys tried to keep me being responsible, not having too much alcohol. At this party it seemed like they threw all caution to the whim, and encouraged the other pledges with me and I to drink to our heart's content.
We did. And oh boy did it have a strong effect on me. As I came to I started putting together all of the stumbling and assholishness things I did in front of some of the most prominent frat members: Jason, Miles, Samir, Big K. Oh man, was that embarrassing.
As I started to wake up, I felt tightness all over my body and something stuffed in my mouth. I tried to push whatever it was out of my mouth with my tongue but I soon realized my mouth was taped shut, tightly. My blood shot eyes sprang open. I tried moving my body but I was tightly strapped down on my back and looking up at the ceiling. I started to panic. I pulled at all my limbs but they were tied or strapped too tightly. I tried moving my head and sitting up but I could only lift my head a couple of inches or slightly move my fingers and toes.
Had I been kidnapped? Was this a frat prank? I started to get really scared. I decided the best thing to do was to try and call out.
"Mmmff?" I cried out throw my gag, which I was just realizing how disgusting it tastes. It was like some sort of musky piece of cloth that tasted like sweat.
Even after I cried out I heard nothing. Silence. I started struggling more furiously but it got me absolutely nowhere.
"MMMMFFFPHH!" I started screaming out. Even if you were in the next room I wasn't sure you could hear me. The gag was too tight. It filled my mouth and cut off any sound of me trying to call for help.
I struggled for about ten minutes before I noticed something else. Something new. There was movement to the left of me. I felt something moving around on the ground. I layed still trying to figure out what it was, and then I heard the familiar sound of someone trying to call out through a gag, similarly to me.
"mmf? mmfff? MMMFF!" the gagged individual was clearly going through the same slow realization process that I did.
I thought about maybe trying to get in contact with whoever it was but gagged the way we were there was no hope for any type of effective communication.
That's when I felt similar vibrations and heard similar moans to the left of me. Now I had no clue how many of us there were, but it seemed like we were all in the same position: restrained on our backs, gagged, and now that I had time to think about it, I was completely naked so I'm sure they were too.
Why were we set up like this? Who is doing this? Our questions were soon answered.
We heard the unmistakable sound of multiple cars pulling into wherever we were ( I wasn't sure if I was at the same houes as last night or somewhere completely different. Each one of us fell silent to listen. We heard car doors opening and slamming and the familiar sounds of guy's horsing around with each other. They were getting closer.
I don't think it occurred to me until they were the members of my potential fraternity until they entered the door but their voices were unmistakable. All of the senior members were piling into the house, and from the sounds of it, most of the frat behind them. I was instantly filled with a sense of dread and renewed awareness of how naked and vulnerable I was.
"Let's see if the judges are up yet," I heard the unmistkable voice of Tommy Salami (Saladino), the frat's resident loud mouth and instigator, followed by loud footsteps headed for us.
"You guys grab me a beer and a shot!" I heard Tommy yell to the other brothers as he entered the room.
"Wake up, faggots!" Tommy announced, I'm guessing, to us.
Tommy walked by and kicked each of us. It was then that I noticed there was something around my head. It kept me from looking to my side and forced me to stare up at the ceiling. I tested it briefly while I inhaled the new scent of Tommy's musk as it engulfed the room.
"You guys still sleeping?" Tommy asked, I saw his handsome face and dark eyes come into view and look down at me with a shit eating grin.
"Aw, you comfy princess?" Tommy sneered at me before kicking me in the side causing me to moan into my gag. He repeated the process to the two other guys as well.
"Look guys, I've got some bad news," Tommy said, "we invited you all over here with alterior motives. In fact, we have no intention of letting you join our frat. Most likely, we never did. But we DO need boys like you. So every year, we keep an eye out.
I started screaming profanities into my gag and yelling for Tommy to untie me. He can kick me out of the frat initiation all he wants I'm ready to just give up and go sleep in the dorms.
"Nut tap!" Tommy shouted as he took a wooden ruler and slapped my exposed balls.
"MMMFMFFFFPHHH!" I cried into the gag while struggling in the restraints from the sudden sharp pain radiating out from my balls throughout my body.
"Ha ha...that looked like it hurt faggot. Should have listened better," Tommy warned.
I decided to calm down. After all, I'd been working at getting free for nearly an hour before they returned and I hadn't made any progress. I was their captive.
"Now, before I bring the other men in to explain the rules of the game, let me be very clear: you fucking dumbass weak fags should be honored for the task bestowed before you. YES! Honored. You know how fucking superior every one of us is. We let you mingle. We let you get a glimpse of what it's like to be on top. That was intentional. Whether you admitted it to yourselves you knew you didn't belong. You were all little fishies out of water. Well, now, you're hooked. You're right where you belong," Tommy explained.
Like it or not, when Tommy was halfway through with his speech, I was rock hard. The sheer display of arrogance and masculinity awoken something in me that previously I had only lived out in jack off fantasies: I loved being dominated. Is there some way these guys saw that? Could they sense it? I don't know, but this sure wasn't how I envisioned living out some weird jerk off fantasy in between all of the other stuff I jerk off about.
"Ok gents," Tommy announced, "the judges have been prepped. You may now enter the colliseum!"
I heard footsteps, loud talking, yelling, and dozens of guys enter the room where we were bound on display.
"Holy fuck!" I heard one of them yellout.
"Ha ha! Fucking perfect! Put those dumb shits to some good use," Another said.
"You see fags," Tommy interjected, "you can't see the scoreboard from your current position in life, kind of like a metaphor for your existence, but rest assured, the men know exactly what we're going to use for now. Oh and I see two of you have boners already. No point in denying it anymore, bitches."
I knew one of the guys he was referring to was me. My six inch cock was rock hard listening to Tommy go on about how superior he and the guys were to us. I don't know why, but it turned me on so much to be under their complete control. I was naked, bound, exposed. A huge part of me was trying to break free but I was also aware of something else, something that made me feel honored to be chosen by them.
"As I was saying faggots," Tommy continued, "You have been selected for a great honor. Our fraternity takes pride in being the best in everything. And some things require judges like you to decide. So, it is YOUR pleasure for me to welcome you as judges to this year's annual Alpha Lamda Chi Fraternity Fart Contest!"
The words burned on my face. I felt the other guys that were struggling in their restraints fall still as well. Did I hear him right? Fart Contest? And we were to be the judges. A feeling of dread swept over me as sweat started to shine on my exposed body.
"Ooooh watching you faggots realize what your purpose is," Tommy smiled, "it's a delight! Yep, we wined you and dined you so we could get you nice and tied down JUST to judge who has the best farts in our fraternity."
"So I will explain the rules," Tommy continued, "It's pretty simple. Even dumbass faggots like you will understand after I've finished explaining. There are three of you. There are ten teams of guys. Each team has the pleasure of naming themselves and choosing their members. I think you'll find a lot of the guys take pride in their work."
"MMMMFFF! MMFF! MMGGG!" I heard the guy next to me kick up a real struggle and start pleading into his gag.
Tommy marched over to him, and I assume gave him the same nut tap he had given me early judging from the sound I heard and the following cries from the bound guy.
"Silence faggot!" Tommy ordered, "You'll notice you're all gagged. That's because we don't need to hear you for you to fulfill your purpose. I'll continue. There are as many rounds as there needs to be. This is to ensure cooperation from our fag judges. We don't do ties. We don't do forfeits. We will go until a winner has been declared by you. It can be as long or as fast as you bitches make it. So you better sniff good."
That last part elicted a loud laugh from the guys crowded around us in the room listening. They were actually enjoying our mistery. My cock was starting to get hard again. What the fuck was wrong with me?
"Now," Tommy went on, "the rules are, each team steps up to the plate, sits on your dumb ass gagged faces and lets loose. Afterwards, and immediately afterwards, you faggots are to sniff like you never sniffed before. Get all that scent up in there. I read some study that says it's actually healthy to smell farts. Haha, now my girl didn't believe that either but you better believe that didn't stop me from ripping ass in her presence and it sure as hell won't stop these guys from doing it right on top of your face."
Tommy walked over to me and started to massage my cock with his sock covered foot. I let out an involuntary moan of pleasure. It surprised me. I couldn't believe how turned on by all this I was.
"After you've sniffed up our ass gas like good, obedient little judges," Tommy went on, "you are to rate each one. Three members to a team. Each member gets a fag judge to sit on, fart on, and have them rank. Now, like I said, you're gagged. And by the way, thank our rugby brothers in Chi Sigma Epsilon for supplying the dirty jocks we used to gag you. They love watching the videos so they are happy to sponsor us with the sweatiest, nastiest, cum soaked jockstraps we use to gag you. It's funnier that way and they always appreciate how clean you dumb servants make them while sucking on them during the contest."
That explains the taste of the rank cloth in my mouth. Now I understood I was sucking on some other frat's rugby teams jock straps. I didn't know whose I was sucking, but fuck, after a while I couldn't deny how much I seemed to like the taste. Jesus, what was happening to me. I feel like my cock is a leaking faucet.
"Yes," Tommy continued, "This will all be recorded for frat posterity. Each round will be recorded. Your scores will be recorded. Don't worry, faggots, we'll make sure you each get a copy."
All of the guys laughed again. I had never been so embarrassed, turned on, and exposed in my life. I assumed the other three were going through similar feelings but surely they weren't like me, turned on at the thought of what was about to happen, were they?
"After each contestent as submitted his...uhh...entry," Tommy chuckled, "You will not be allowed to speak still. Gagging and regagging you idiots is pointless. So, we have worked out a system of blinks. Each blink is 1 point. A wink is a half point. There. We figured out non-verbal communication for you dumb faggots. Now, as I said, this will go on until you faggots decide on a winner. So don't give us all tens. Don't give us all low scores. We have enough beer and we know exactly where to go to keep this contest going AS LONG AS IT NEEDS TO. So do your job. The rules will change as the contest goes on, but I'm sure you freaks will enjoy each rule change as much as ALL of you seem to be enjoying me explaining the rules to you."
Tommy leaned over so each one of us could see his handsome face. The look of contempt for us was not lost on me. We looked like we were nothing to him. And it made me want to please him so bad.
"Now without further ado," Tommy said, "Let's introduce the teams.."
Tommy stepped on a platform as if he was announcing the WWE, "TEAM ONE: the gargantuan swedes: Big K, Len, And Miles!"
A round of appluase and cheers started. Miles was one of the fraternity's senior members with Big K. Both guys were tall, blond, and gorgeous. Big K looked like a more stockier Thor. Miles was leaner with shorter hair and a cocky smile. Len was actually from Finland. He was a quieter guy when he got here but the frat embraced him and soon his inner fratboy emerged. He was a little shorter than Miles and Big K, but still over 6', ripped, and from what I heard had a huge COCK.
"Team two," Tommy continued, "The Big Boys: Ronny, Max, and Big D."
These guys were all stocky, heavy set men. Ronny looked like a harley biker. He had a big full beard, hairy chest and huge beer belly. Max was almost the exact same with black hair. Big D was a 275 lb black dude that could probably crush my skull with one hand.
"Team 3: the righteous kings," Tommy said, "Samir, John P, Juan."
Samir was a hot middle eastern guy that I had checked out numerous times during the parties. He was perfect. Toned, hairy, smug - he just made you want to please him. John P and Juan were both his roommates and they were all pretty tight. John P and Juan were hispanic, lanky cocky assholes that always made fun of me.
Tommy went and named off each team. There was the dead rabbits, a group of boston guys Mike, Benny, and Tom. There was the Midwest Farmboys. There was the Canucks. There was the Texans Do it Better. Each team was called off and it sounded like we might be way in over our heads.
"Sadly," Tommy went on, "As MC I can't participate in the contest."
The brothers all let out a moan of sympathy.
"But don't you worry faggots, that doesn't mean I'm going to deny you the honor of sniffing my ass. Let's have a practice round," Tommy replied, to a bunch of applause.
"Which faggot should get the first honor?" Tommy asked the crowd.
"Do Jimmy!" one voice shouted.
"No names!" Tommy replied, "Gave these faggots some privacy. I don't want it posted somewhere that Jimmy Robinson is a fart sniffing faggot that serves superior men in a frat house."
A bunch of snickers emitted from the crowd.
"Seriously though," Tommy chuckled, "Left fag, middle fag, or right fag?"
"MIDDLE!" someone shouted, signifying me. I'm sure as fuck glad I'm not jimmy right now though. He must be burning red with shame.
"MIDDLE!" a couple more shout out.
LEFT! LEFT!" more voices came out.
"Ah, fuck it, " Tommy sighed as he approached me (the middle and came face to face with me.
"You look good down there, Paul," Tommy almost whispered, "are you ready to play?"
"Mffff! Mmmmmph!" I tried to plead with Tommy through my gag.
"Now, now, don't worry faggot. I'm not going to say it's not going to be bad for you. It is. We spent the last three hours at a taco buffet. But it will help mold you into the servant you were born to be. Besides, you'd be lying if you said you didn't want the opportunity to kiss my ass." Tommy whispered.
I pulled and pulled on the restraints holding me down. My face must have been as red as a tomato. Tommy just stared back at me smiling. He took out his phone and activated the video and pointed the camera towards himserlf.
"Yo, this is Tommy the Salami," he said to the camera, "I am acting MC of this years Fart Contest, carrying out my solemn duty to test the effectiveness of this years judges."
More laugher echoed out from the crowd as Tommy stood up and towered over me, "As you can see, the judge has been rendered silent, each contestant will stand over the faggot like so, faggot judge WILL make eye contact with the camera." Tommy started going through the rules.
I looked up at the camera. He smiled and continued, "Contestant will present the lucky judge with his ass by sitting on his face. Don't worry, the rimseats keep them relatively safe."
Tommy dropped his basketball shorts, revealing nothing but a jock strap, "whoops, forgot to wear underwear today. Sorry fag, I guess you get to experience round 2 right away."
A bunch of hoots and hollers and cat calls filled the room. I stared up in awe as Tommy's perfect hairy ass was slowly lowered onto my gagged face. It already smelled like sweat and raunch. Once it was in my face and the only thing I could see, I got hard again. More laughter followed out of the crowd. I was enjoying this. They knew it. And they were recording the whole thing.
I stared up into blackness as his asscheeks circled around my face and drew me into his asshole. Soon, it would happen. I and the other "judges" were powerless to stop them.
"Now guys, presentation counts so make sure you put on a good show. But don't waste time. SBD's DON'T COUNT! It's got to be documented and for that we need audio." Tommy explained.
Suddenly, a huge burst of gas with a loud prrrrfft emanated from Tommy's ass. His fart stench filled my nostrils. My cock throbbed. I saw stars. I can't believe I have to do more of these.
Tommy stood up, shook his naked, smelly ass in my face. Then he danced around a bit to mock me I suppose. Finally, he turned around, took his phone in his hand and said, "Judge, 1-10 blinks, one is bad, 10 is good. GO!"
He held the phone up close to my pathetic, gagged face. I was now met with a decidsion. Do I resist and prolong this? Maybe if I resist they'll understand that I don't belong as their chair. On the other hand my stupid dick is rock hard. None of them will buy that I'm not enjoying myself. Am I?
"We're waiting, faggot!" Tommy snapped.
I decided to play along and rated Tommy's ass gas an 8. Cheers erupted from the guys as he went around and slapped them fives.
"OK, enough of the prelimanaries," Tommy said in his best announcer voice, "AND ON TO THE MAIN EVENT GENTLEMENT."
"Round ONE! Underwear on. Of course, you were to bring your dirtiest pair as instructed. First team up. Let's go ahead and start with team ONE. The GARGANTUAN SWEDES!" Tommy shouted.
Big K, Len, and Miles stepped up and dropped their shorts. More cheers and cat calls emerged from the crowd of overly sexually active men in their prime. I felt so useless.
Big K, who had taken me, the middle spot judge, smirked with contempt as he looked down on me. He was so large, handsome, and looked like a blonde version of the brawny man. I felt so unequal to him.
"Lucky you, faggot. You get to sniff my stink through a barrier," Big K said with an evil grin, "let me know how my rugby jockey's smell too. Haven't washed them in a few weeks. Enjoy!"
Big K slowly lowered his stained white jockeys down towards my face. They were still a couple feet away and I could tell they reaked. The closer he got, the more intense the smell got. But just as I saw his clothed ass barely touching my face he backed off a bit, wiggled his big ass in my face (I guess to entice me or something), then starting dragging it up and down my face to wipe the smell of his briefs on me.
"Look, the little freak is leaking precum," Big K announced to the group.
"Oh fuck, he is," one guy confirmed. I was so embarassed. Big K had himself a seat on my face. I was forced to breath his ass stench. I heard similar occurences happening next to either side of me as Len and Miles settled in on the other frat prisoners.
"This is Big K! What's up!" Big K announced, I guess starting his "submission,"
"Look guys, I got the fag under my ass just where he belongs. And he's loving that ripe Big K ass. All the fags and the women want to lick it clean to EARN my cum. Well now, this fag gets to RATE. MY. GAS!" Big K shouted above me so even I could hear perfectly.
Then I felt a rumble above me as Big K let out a huge fart that made me completely forget every bad thing I had ever smelled and rocketed this to the front of the line.
"Gotta start off with a crowd pleaser," Big K said with a smirk as he got up and turned around, "Now, be a good obedient fag and show my what I want to see."
Big K held the phone to my face and I immediately complied. Ten blinks. There was no way. I couldn't give him any less. If I could, I would have given him more. Len and Miles scored a 7 and an 8 respectively. I noticed the guy to my left tried to defy a bit, but he ended up in the exact same position as me and the other judge, except his nuts were probably extremely bruised.
Next was the Big Boys. I got assigned Ronny. I tell you, I think his ass just smelled awful. By the time he actually farted I didn't even really notice. It just constantly smelled awful while I was down there. Had they ungagged me I could have explained his low score of six, but that's what happens. The other two got sevens.
"I had such high hopes for you fucks," Tommy sighed, "NEXT up, the righteous kings!"
Samir came into view briefly but moved to my right. He briefly made eye contact with me and gave me a knowing smirk that soon I would be used. John P. stepped up to my seat.
"Hey bitch," John P. said greeting me, "I'm so fucking going to enjoy this. You give me a fair score now. Don't make me tap them faggot nuts on my way back to my boys over there."
"While I admire the creativity NO THREATENING THE JUDGES," Tommy announced.
John P/ didn't waste much time with sitting on my gagged face. His tight grey briefs clung nicely to his admittedly perfect bubble but as the warm cheeks nestled on my face. Then, there was a pause and some shuffling of weight from John P. I assumed he was getting his speech prepared.
"You KNOW your boy John P ain't going to get off this faggot until he sniffs my dirty ass first. Come on, bitch, smell what it smells like BEFORE I blast your ass. Go on, so John P. can feel it. So my viewers can FEEL IT. NOW!" John P. announced on his video submission while simultaneously ordering me.
I followed his command almost instantly. What could I do to resist and I am sure that this request was within the rules knowing this frat. I pressed my knows in his sweaty, brief clad ass crack and inhaled as hard as I could. It smelled like old farts already mixed with musk and sweat.
"Annnnnd he's got another boner, " John P said most likely into his phone, "now ON to the MAIN EVENT!"
I felt his ass rumble and thunder directly above my face and release a noxious thick fart up my nose while I was still trying to obey his prior order of taking big whifs. I hacked and wheezed into my gag while ohn P laughed before me.
I gave him nine blinks. Samir got a nine from my neighbor and Juan had somehow managed a TEN from the other guy. The boys were given an additional round of applause.
"Looks like there IS a team here who came to compete," Tommy said, hoping to poke the bear I suppose and encourage the remaining members to start giving it their all, "Dead rabbits up next!"
The boston boys give it their all indeed, but it wasn't as bad as John P. It was almost nice by comparison. I gave Benny six blinks and he gave me a nut tap, but his team mates faired no better with two fives. Even still, I was hard throughout the degrading treatment. Next were the midwest farmboys. None of these boys had ever grown up near a farm but whatever. Henry, the guy who sat on my lucky face, made me "try to kiss his ass."
"I know you're gagged faggot but try to put some effort into showing your superiors some respect," Henry sneered at me not long before blasting me with his own brand of gas that I gave 8 blinks and a wink to (8.5". The rest of the gang earned eight's as well.
The canucks all hit below fives and were immediately disqualified.
"Leave it to canada..." Tommy sighed while the crowd laughed and sent the canadian team on a beer run.
The Texans Do It Better were the last ones to go. Corey, James and Lee. I was lucky enough to get Lee, an indisputably hot blonde six foot ripped texas foot ball stud who I would have gladly done this for if he had asked. Shit, was that I thought I just had out loud.
"Lucky you, fag boy, you get to sniff my stink through a barrier," Lee mused, "the others may not survive..."
Indeed, he was bad. I gave him a 9.5 and was relieved to have him get off of me so I could get fresh air again.
"Alright boys, looks like the Righteous Kings and the Texans Do it Better are the teams to beat this year," Tommy announced, "the rest of you fucks might as well be in last place. Step it up. Next round: briefs off, direct ass contact. Try to not blow your load middle fag."
Tommy kicked me while saying that last part. It was true. My cock was throbbing. I was somehow getting off on this but now I realized that the other two were likely not? Was I the only one? Why does this turn me on so much? The idea of being degraded like this and having them force me to act like it is an honor? Now I'm leaking precum like a faucet.
The men took a 15-20 minute break to grab more beer, but Tommy was persistent and got them all back into the room to keep the contest going. We were left bound and gagged throughout the duration of the break. Even if we weren't gagged I doubt we'd have much to say to each other. Soon enough, the familiar sound of guys laughing, bragging and yelling came echoing down the hall as thundering footsteps brought the frat boys back into the contest room.
"Hope we didn't keep you hungry faggots waiting to long for the next phase of the contest," Tommy sneered, letting the guys get a real laugh out of our debasement. The guy to the right of me start cursing in his gag.
"Aww, one of our fart cushions isn't happy. Don't worry sad boy. You'll get to sniff up more farts soon," Tommy said, "Now, gentlemen, the next round is full ass. Disrobe from your briefs. Remember to show your fellow brothers respect. After all, it's not them who is anxiously awaiting to huff up our rancid ass gas."
The brothers laughed and began disrobing. As best as I could tell that is. From my vantage point I could hear them make small cat calls and locker room chit chat as I saw some dirty shirts being tossed across the room as I stared up at the ceiling. I began to wonder what the other judges were thinking. Were they wondering why I was so eager to please these men? Why I found it so arousing? I certainly was asking these questions myself.
"First up!" Tommy announced, in order of LEAST highest score to the ACTUAL men in the contest - the Boston Boys. Try and redeem yourselves!"
While I had Benny's scent to critque last time, this time I was sattled with the responsibility of judging boston Tom's ass gas. Tom strutted up into view and I saw his hairy flacid cock swining back and forth and his big juicy low-hanging bull balls swinging.
Tom brought his phone into selfie position, wasting no time, "Yo what's up this is Boston Tom, these faggot judges love the smell of our farts. That's why they rate them so low. It's what they would prefer to sniff over oxygen. That being said, your boy Boston Tom went out and had himself some emergency chalupas and nachos on the break. Then me and the boys slammed some lagers. There won't be anything left of this faggot below me when I'm done."
Tom sat on my face. I slowly saw him part his cheeks and lower his rank hole closer and closer until his ass swallowed my face and I was again lost in frat boy ass. The smell was horrendous. How could it be any worse than round 1? How could it be SO MUCH worse. I cried out into my gag, as did the othe judges. Clearly none of us were ready for this new experience.
"Oh I think the bitches are hungry boys?" Tom announced, becomging the de-facto leader of his team now, "let's give these fags a proper meal!"
HIs butthole exploded into my face. Stench seemed to coat my skin and fly up my nostrils until I saw stars. I was extremely lightheaded, could no longer focus. Soon Tom's ass was removed from my face and a phone camera was replaced. I silently blinked 9 times and winked like a programmed fart judging machine without giving it a second thought. Benny also irked out a nine. The other guy, sadly, only received a six.
"Big boys lets go!" Tommy ordered, keeping things moving, unfortunately the big boys had also drunk a bunch of lager and were in no position to continue. They forfeited their spot and were to receive extreme punishment for failing their brothers.
"Midwest Farm Boys you up?" Tommy asked.
Midwest farm boys did not bring the heat this time. The judge to the left of me gave my first guy, Henry, a six. I gave Paul a 5.5, and Ralph managed a seven.
"Wow not looking good, maybe we can just add you guys as judges next year, " Tommy warned
"I do appreciate the honesty from our judges though. It's refreshing. I'm sure not for them, but regardless," Tommy joked, earning more big laughs and making me feel a mixture of pride and extreme humiliation.
Miles from the gargantuan swedes blew such a noxious fumes up my nose I actually thought I might die. Or puke. The second he sat on my face I felt an anxioius feeling. He was quiet. Way more quiet than anyone else had been. Which made the room get quiet. It was surreal. I waited, staring at his asshole, almost begging it for mercy. Then I heard him say two words, "No. Mercy."
The fart that followed knocked me back in time. I came to clammoring for air, but Miles sat there. I begged and screamed into my gag but the audiience of frat boys were cheering and chanting "No Mercy" as I tried to absorb the behemoth fart that Miles had laid on me.
I looked up, his phone looked back and he had an expectant smirk on his arrogant face, "Well?" he asked, almost impatiently. I rewarded his triumph with a ten.
Big K earned a 9 and Les took an 8. They were still contenders.
The Texans Do it Better were next. This time I got Corey. He earned every bit of an 8 but I was counting my lucky stars I got Lee first. The judge to the left of me who got Lee this time actually passed out. Lee ran out of the room laughing as Tommy played "revive the faggot, which was just a combination of Tommy teabagging him and using a riding crop on his balls. Soon he was back. Lee returned into the room, demanded a score of 10 before even acknowledging the judge, reasoning being "you don't question a homerun like that!"
The group agreed, and the judge was only made to confirm on video that he indeed passed out from Lee's powerful gas, something that caused the guys in the room to erupt in applause again.
For the Righteous Kings, as if fate had a sense of humor and was intentionally saving Samir for last for me, I had Juan for this round. Despite what Bostom Tom had said, the second he sat on me I wanted him to get the fuck off. That was not the case with Juan. Despite him always calling me queer boy or flipping me off at parties, the second his ass touched my face I was in love with that musk. It was incredible! And...
"Oh shit, the faggot just came," Juan announced, sounding like he had just started taking video.
Everyone laughed and a pledge was made to crawl in naked. "Lick it up, pledge!"
"I'm not licking up that fags cum!" a voice shot back to which was followed by a loud SLAP.
"Do NOT talk back to your Superior Brother, Tommy warned.' Lick. It. Up. NOW!"
I felt the pleasurable sensation of the pledges fairly skilled tongue darting around my cock and balls as he sucked up my jizz and cleaned my dick off.
"Try to control yourselves faggots, as you can see it upsets the pledge bitches," Tommy advised to more laughter from his brothers, "Now, crawl back into your place pledge bitch."
The entire duration of the clean up I was free to enjoy the musky but pleasant scent of Juan's ass, and if given the opportunity, I would have spent the rest of the evening in it, that is, until...
"Try not to cum from something as disgusting as my farts, faggot!" Juan yelled while releasing a monster fart on my face that I immediately judged was worth a nine.
Round 3. And it came down to three teams. All teams were invited back to take a triple round of group shots. Afterwards, Tommy explained the rules of the final round.
"PLEDGES!" Tommy roared loud enough to thunder through the house, "Send forth Pledge Twinklefuck, BitchTits, and CockSleeve!"
Three pledges appeared in the door way. Judging by the comments I was guessing they were dressed pretty embarrassingly.
"Take your marks, pledges," Tommy ordered, which was immediately followed by a warm hand grabbing my already throbbing again dick.
"Now, you all remember what just happened with Pledge Twinklefuck, so what is the rule pledges?" Tommy asked.
"No making the faggots cum, SIR" the pledges recited in perfect unison.
"VERY good, " Tommy encouraged them, there may be some hope for you sluts.
"For the final round, consisting of the gargantuan swedes, (applause), the righteous kings (applause), and The texans do it better, the faggot judges will be jerked off, and kept at the highest possible level of arousal, this is to ensure we have their full baser instincts in tune to focus on these fine younge gentlemen's ass stink. Right guys?" Tommy explained to immediate applause.
"Pledges, begin jerking," Tommy said.
The pledges obeyed, and they seemed to take their job seriously because I was already in a state of heavy arousal.
Les was up. He sat on my face and waited, and waited, and waited. I heard him sigh. I heard him yawn. His fragrant ass was already making my need to shoot my load at the peak edge, what was he waiting for.
"The longer I wait the more likely you pledges get dessert, you boys like cream?" Les laughed along with all the other guys. I heard the pledges groan in reply.
Finally, Les released his long-awaited fart. Maybe it was the hype. Maybe it was Miles before him, but this wasn't bad, and I gave it a firm seven.
James stepped up to the plate next. As I stared up at him swinging his mighty ass as he slowly lowered it on to me like he was a male stripper, I couldn't help but admire how perfect it was. It truly was an honor that it was going to be on my face. His fart was good, but an 8 wasn't going to win this.
It all came down to Samir. The last guy (hopefully) to make me smell his farts tonight. I was ready. Hell, if they released me completely I still would have stayed to finish. I was in this now until the end. Samir's ass was dark, plump and perfect. It enveloped my face in a truly dizzying aroma of manilness and just rank stink. He barely had it on my face and part of me wanted him off, but a deeper part of me wanted the worst fart he could possibly eek out.
And that is what he did, I felt Samir take a deep breath, brace himself and say "Get ready for the end of the night fart blitz!" Samir roared as he unleashed a twenty second minute long fart that reverburated through my face and made everything suddenly feel like I was eating garbage and gourmet at the same time. And then, another orgasm.
I gave Samir an eleven, but they only accepted a ten. He flashed an arrogant smirk down at me and said, "you cum from farts so easy little fag, gonna have to cage you up if you want to be my pet."
My cock went immediately hard again. without much more ado, Tommy announced the righteous kings as the winners. The other judges and I were released, paid pretty well, and promised we would always be welcome at any party throughout the year without harassment.
As we were leaving, Samir and Tommy were walking us towards the door. "Unless...that's something you're into, " Tommy said non chalently while reaching over and revealing three chastity cages and three small padlocks thate were hidden under a piece of cloth.
"Here's the last one time deal faggots, you have until tomorrow to accept or deny. If you deny, same agreement applies, come and go as you please, we might even get to be buds, " Samir explained, "however, I can promise you not one of you will be worthy to taste our jizz, or even see our naked asses ever again. So here's the OTHER agreement, return to our house by tomorrow with these cages locked on your fag clits. Present a key to your brother of choice and, if he accepts you, you will be his pet for the entire year. All the jizz that doesn't flow into some dumb sorority bitch, will flow into your willing fag holes, understand?"
We were all dumbstruck. Did he really think we were just going to jump into this again? After what we had just been through. The other two judges were smart enough to at least take the cage with them to think about it for the night. Samir barely had a chance to turn around before the cage was locked on my dick and I was on my knees presenting him the key like I was proposing.
He smirked, "I figured you'd be first faggot!"
THE END