Fraternity Induction
By Wrestlr
[M/M, MC, hypno]
Disclaimer: There's sex, sodomy, and maybe a few other minor perversions
in this. If you don't like that sort of thing, read something else.
Everybody in the is legal age. Parts of this may be
autobiographical, or it might be all fiction---who can say?
Copyright - 2000 by Wrestlr. Permission granted to archive if and only
if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read
the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use
this without the express permission of (and payment to) the author. This
paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
Comments to wrestlr@iname.com
Wrestlr's fiction is archived at the following URLs:
o http://members.tripod.com/~Brock_J (MC and general M/M stories)
o http://www.asstr.org/~wrestlr
o http://www.asstr.org/~mcstories/Authors/Wrestlr.html
* * *
Fraternity Induction
Day 1: Friday
It's Friday, late afternoon. Normally that's cause enough for activity
here at the frat house, but this weekend is special: initiation.
You're not a member--more of a special "advisor." Your roommate--the guy
you roomed with all through your undergraduate years--joined this frat, the
campus jock frat, and you got involved through him. His scholastic major
was almost beside the point; for all practical purposes, he majored in
football. You were in psychology, and initially because of your crush on
your roommate, which probably wasn't as secret as you thought, you
specialized in the psychology of sports and motivation. When you learned
hypnosis, your roommate volunteered to be your test subject, and the
results were excellent. He liked his improved focus and decisiveness on
the field. You liked watching the object of your covert crush gradually
submit to your induction, liked how cooperative he became, how little by
little he, willingly, learned to share his body with you.
When you both graduated--him to turn pro and you to enter graduate
school at this same university--his frat brothers asked how he got so good
and he, with your permission, finally told them about the hypnosis.
Several members of the frat volunteered as subjects for your motivational
"research." Your advisor, the professor you call Doc, the who taught
you hypnosis, is the faculty advisor for the frat--after seeing the
difference you made with a portion of the frat last year, he recommended
that you broaden your work to include all thirty-five active brothers.
That was last year, and since the start of the school year you've been
doing just that. The results have been impressive: improved performance in
their sports and in the classrooms, fewer complaints about rowdy behavior
in town, and--the most impressive change--a drop in date rape and sexual
assault charges from ten two years ago, to three last year when you started
your hypnosis training with the members, to none so far this year (you
smirk, wondering what Doc would think if he knew the real reason for this
drop--and since Doc continues to hypnotize you now and then to illustrate
the finer points of technique, you decide there's a chance he already
knows).
Knock on the door. Alex, the wrestler who is pledge-master this year,
answers it. Beyond him, just as you knew they would be, are Bryce, the
dark-haired diver, and Jake, the social chair who is on the football team.
None of them are consciously aware that you ordered them in their last
sessions to be here at the door at this time, waiting for you. So far as
they know, they all just happened to run into each other here in the foyer
and were chatting when you just happened to arrive.
Draw the gold pocket watch from your pocket. Doc had used this to
hypnotize you back when you were learning; when you graduated, he made a
gift of it to you, and you've used it with your subjects as a visual
focusing tool ever since. Hold it up, dangling at the end of its short
gold chain. Alex, in front, is the first to see it. "Relax and obey," you
say, triggering the suggestions you've been giving him for some time now.
Alex's eyes go blank, his expression slack, as his mind recognizes the
trigger and slips back into that submissive, relaxed state. "Yes, sir," he
murmurs, confirming his submission to the post-hypnotic command to re-enter
the trance state.
Hold the watch up higher, where Bryce and Jake can see it over Alex's
shoulder. Repeat the trigger: "Relax and obey." It has its effect on them
as well. "Yes, sir," they murmur almost in unison.
Alex is pledge-master this year, Bryce the frat president, and Jake the
social chair. They were some of your first and best subjects; you've been
hypnotizing them for over a year and they're profoundly suggestible now.
You maneuvered them into positions of leadership for just such a day as
today. Now, with these three in their trances and receptive to your
instructions, you effectively control the leadership of the entire
fraternity. As Doc likes to say when explaining the power of hypnosis, "as
the head, so the body," though you doubt what you have planned is what he
had in mind.
Alex and Jake are dressed as you instructed them: nothing but a pair of
shorts, though Jake has supplemented with a backward baseball cap. You eye
their exposed chests and legs. Their bodies are sexy, but somehow the
slack expressions on their spellbound faces strikes you as far more erotic.
Bryce, on the other hand, is fully dressed. When you ask why, he mumbles
that he got out of his afternoon lab late, just got here, didn't have time
to change. You decide meeting you is compliance enough, given the
circumstances, and you order him to strip off his shirt, shoes, and socks;
a guy in nothing but a pair of jeans is as sexy as a guy in just shorts.
"Are the pledges ready?" you ask Alex.
"... yes ... sir ..." His rapt eyes never leave the watch as it turns
gently at the end of its chain.
"And are the brothers all here as well?"
"... yes ... sir ..."
"Everything is ready, just as I instructed you?"
"... ev'rything ... sir ..."
"Good, Alex--very good. I'm very pleased with you. I want you three to
gather the brothers. Act normally; act like you usually do when you aren't
in this pleasantly relaxed state. Have everyone meet in the basement in
five minutes for the start of initiation. I will take care of telling
everyone in the room. You three tell everyone else. Go now."
They move off, slowly, on their appointed task. You turn right, to the
TV room that branches off this foyer. As usual, the is on, blaring some
game. Three brothers are sprawled about the room, paying varying degrees
of attention to the game. According to your orders, too, they also wear
nothing but shorts.
You walk in. Hal, the tall basketball forward, looks up from his
textbook and smiles, nods hello. Nod and smile back. You spend enough
time here at the frat house that, even though you're not a brother, they
are never surprised to see you.
Take the remote from the table at Tommy's elbow. Turn the set off.
Tommy in his chair and Michael, sprawled on his stomach on the floor in
front of the TV, turn your way and in unison scold you with an annoyed
chorus: "Hey!" You have the attention of all three in this room.
Hal protests, "Turn it back on--it's the last four minutes and the score
is tied."
Before they can say anything else, you lift the pocket watch, let it
rotate slowly a quarter-turn as you say, "Relax and obey." It hits them
just as they're been programmed: their eyes go somewhere far away. "Yes,
sir," they say, almost simultaneously. Now you have more than just their
attention; you have complete control of them. These three you send to
gather the pledges from the room where they are being made to wait, to
bring the pledges to the basement in ten minutes.
You are waiting at the foot of the basement steps when the brothers
start arriving. The basement is a broad, unfinished expanse, running the
length and width of the house. Normally, it's empty except for the
occasional support pole, the water heater, the furnace room, and a few
boxes being stored in the far corner. Today, though, a small platform has
been built in the center of the basement. On that platform, a small
podium. The part of the basement to the left of the dais has been curtained
off, for now, by a series of sheets strung between the support posts. To
the right and further back in the basement, another sheet blocks a small
area from view. Here, in this basement, is where the first part of your
plans for the initiation will unfold.
You are standing at the base of the stairs, facing the stairs with your
watch held high, when the brothers start arriving. You have been working
with all of them for quite some time now, and they obey easily now. The
change in them is profound. Their strides, as they start down the stairs,
are cocky and jocular; then they see the watch held aloft, hear your
command to "Relax and obey," and their paces slow as their thoughts go
blank and their minds slip away into that pleasant, obedient place. You
instruct them down from the stairs to stand, in three shoulder-to-shoulder
rows, facing the platform.
You keep count. Alex, Bryce, and Jake come in near the end, having
completed their task of gathering the others. Only two stragglers come
after them. That brings the total here to thirty-two active members.
Counting the three actives you sent to retrieve the pledges, that's a
perfect attendance of thirty-five.
As the leadership of the frat, Alex, Jake, and Bryce belong on the
platform. You join them there--it seems only fitting, and no one is going
to complain. As president, Bryce begins the ceremony. His voice is
sluggish from the trance that still clouds his mind, but no one except you
is in any shape to notice. This year, you decided they should dispense
with the pretentious, childish trappings that normally fill their
initiations, like monk's robes and cowls, but you believe in ceremony
enough to retain some of the ritual parts.
At the appointed place in the proceedings, Bryce turns the podium over
to Alex, the pledge-master, and the nine pledges are brought into the
basement.
They know something is up--the brothers are acting oddly--but they
cannot decide just what. They've been denied basic privacy almost
throughout the rush period, called "shithole" or "pledge" instead of their
names to dehumanize them. The brothers have kept them awake for almost
three consecutive days now--disrupting their lives and their sleep cycles.
Denying them sleep has kept them mentally off-balance and really done a
number on their heads. Now, however, stripped to their underwear, hands
tied behind their backs, awed by the legends of hell nights past and the
importance of initiation, they're more worried about what will happen to
them tonight. Besides, maybe the way the brothers are acting is part of
the ceremony.
The pledges are lined up between the rows of active brothers and the
platform, facing the podium. Alex drones through his speech about them
being nominated for membership in an elite group of men, blah blah blah,
and how the events about to occur will separate the from the boys, the
worthy from the unworthy, the future members from the chattel. The speech
doesn't tell the pledges anything that they don't already know.
Alex singles out each pledge in turn, and asking if he is ready and
worthy. Each one knows to respond loudly, "Sir! Yes, sir!"
After the last pledge has answered, Alex says, "Then say goodbye to the
boys you are now, and embrace the you are about to become. Good luck
to you all."
That is the signal. The brothers, on the platform and on the floor,
each strip off their shorts and drop them by their sides. This sudden
nudity is not wasted on the pledges; in spite of their fatigue, their eyes
widen; they know something is up. You go to the small curtain, stage
right, and disappear behind it. Tommy and Michael each take hold of an
elbow on the first pledge and guide him behind the curtain too. Hal waits
behind it already; he is ROTC, and he knows how to run the clippers
efficiently.
The cordoned area is small, barely six feet wide, but wide enough. This
first pledge is led to you. You have worked with all of them in the months
since they pledged. The commands are inside of each of them too, just
waiting to be triggered. Tommy and Michael untie his arms. This pledge is
on the swim team; his body, completely exposed to your stare except for the
small area concealed by his briefs, is sleek, toned, smooth. He's trying
hard not to show how tired and nervous he is, but you can see the
expectation and apprehension in his eyes. All that changes when you lift
the pocket watch and murmur, soft as a lover's voice, "Relax and obey." His
eyes gradually glaze; his eyelids flutter. He visibly relaxes as his mind
yields to the programming. "Strip," you tell him, and he removes his
briefs. "Good boy. Relax and obey."
Hal turns on the electric shaver, the kind barbers use. The pledge's
hair is short already, but in a few quick passes, Hal has his hair reduced
to stubble. Hal shaves the pledge's underarms and pubic hair away as well.
Then, you give the signal, and Tommy and Michael lead the unresisting,
enthralled pledge back to the platform. They position him on it, standing
at the rear, to one side, facing the brothers--and the pledges.
The psychological effect on the other pledges is priceless. Their eyes
are bugging out of their heads in shock. This guy in front of them--one of
them--has been stripped and shaven; more than that, something has gone out
of him--they've never seen a become so docile, so cooperative--and
after just a few minutes too. They're realizing two things simultaneously:
that the hazing has just begun, and that whatever happened behind that
curtain is going to happen to each of them too.
One by one, more of the pledges are brought back behind the curtain.
There, they are untied, hypnotized, stripped, and shaven before being led
back to the platform to stand beside their fellow thralls.
The ninth and last pledge, a baseball walk-on, panics as he is being led
over. He tries to break away, and he even succeeds in pulling his arm away
from Michael, but Tommy has a strong grasp on him. "No!" the pledge yells.
"I quit! Let me loose! I don't want to be a anymore! You can't
keep me here--let me go! No!" You make a mental note for next year: gag
them too.
The pledge recovers his cool a bit by the time he's brought behind the
curtain; he's trying to put up a front, but he's scared shitless. You can
see it in his eyes. "Hey," you tell him, "it's all right. Calm down." He
knows you. He trusts you. If he took a minute, he'd doubtlessly figure it
all out. Instead, he tries to bargain with you: "Let me go, man. Just let
me loose and let me walk, okay?"
"After all the time and effort we've both spent here? Such a waste.
You don't really want that, do you. No." Hold the watch up into his sight.
"You want to relax and obey. Relax and obey."
He's one of the more suggestive ones, and his conditioning is strong.
You keep whispering the trigger to him, "Relax and obey," and he responds,
letting go of the tension, letting go of his struggles, mental and
physical. "Good boy," you murmur, stroking his neck, "relax and obey." Now
all you see in his eyes is blank obedience. From there, stripping and
shaving him is easy. This pledge has a hairy chest, and Hal takes care of
that as well, leaving only stubble in his wake. You make a mental note to
keep close tabs on this pledge, just in case.
Michael and Tommy lead this last pledge to the platform to join his
cohorts. Two of the brothers, as planned, are removing the other sheets
that cordon off the other portion of the basement, exposing five ancient
clawfoot bathtubs, left over from when the house was renovated many years
ago.
As the brothers move closer to the tubs, you see a flash of blue in
their midst. Shorts? One of the brothers has not stripped?
Tell Hal to go back to smaller curtain, to his clippers. Move among the
brothers. There, in the cut-offs--that's him. "Victor," you say, putting
your hand on his shoulder and turning him toward you, toward the trigger
watch dangling at eye level, "could I speak to you in private?"
He is only lightly under. Victor, a sophomore inducted last year, has
been difficult to hypnotize, naturally resistant. He is entranced enough
to be receptive but not enough to succumb fully to the post-hypnotics that
should be guiding him. Lead him behind the same partition as before.
Dangle the pocket watch in front of his eyes. Coax him through a quick
deepening exercise. He surrenders and begins to go deeper into his trance.
"Victor, relax and obey. Take off your shorts." He opens his cut-offs,
unzips, shimmies them down his legs, steps free of them, nude. "Victor,
you need to do penance for your resistance. You need to reassert your vows
to the brotherhood, don't you."
His voice is breathless, far away. "Yes ..."
"You need to show the brothers that you are sorry for your independence,
that you want to be part of the team. Don't you."
"Yes ..."
"Remember your initiation last year? How good it felt to belong?"
"Yes ..."
"You need to go through initiation again. That will show them how much
you want to belong, won't it. Submitting to initiation will make you part
of the team again, and you want that badly, don't you."
"I ... Yes ..."
Motion to Hal. He understands and shaves Victor crown to crotch, just
as he did the pledges.
"Relax and obey, Victor, and we will initiate you back into the team."
Victor smiles a distant smile, breathes a contented "... yes ..." You
have him deeply now.
A hand reaches from behind you and closes over your hand. "Relax,"
purrs a familiar, strong voice, as the hand guides the watch in front of
your eyes, "and obey." You cannot move. You are turned toward the who
keeps the watch suspended before you. Doc, as you knew it would be: your
advisor, the frat's sponsor. "Relax"--he says the trigger again like a
purr--"and obey." You feel everything fall away.
You strip when he tells you to. You feel Hal shave your head down to
stubble, then your chest, underarms, and pubes. The sense of ... union,
of fulfillment this brings makes you understand how much you want this.
All you want to do is stare at the watch and listen to Doc's soft words.
You control the frat brothers and pledges. Doc controls you. Through you,
he controls everyone in this frat. Maybe he always has. You will control
them for him. It's what he programmed you to do, and it makes you feel
special to do this for him.
You continue to follow the instructions Doc has been giving you; he had
masked them from your conscious memory but now they bubble up easily into
your head. Lead Victor to the platform and stand him beside the other
pledges. Get the brothers' attention and announce that Victor will be
repeating his initiation as a show of belonging, that they are to treat him
just like any other pledge.
The brothers have carried the bathtubs to the area in front of the
platform. The tubs are heavy, each needing five jocks to lift it. The
drains have been sealed. The tubs won't keep everything off the floor, but
they will help. The pledges are led to the tubs and they climb in, two in
each bathtub. Each faces his tub-mate, cock in hand. On your command,
they on each other, wetting each other from belly to toes. The air
fills with the ammonia stench. The brothers, you, Doc gather around the
tubs. The pledges kneel, mouths open. Doc is the only one not nude, the
only one who needs to unzip. Then you give the order, and everyone pees on
the pledges, wetting them all over, drenching their hair, spraying their
mouths, splattering off their torsos.
Freed from morality and everyday constraints, following orders locked in
during months of hypnotic control sessions, the brothers allow themselves
to be worshipped by the pledges' willing mouths and tongues. The pledges
lick from tit to tit, cock to hard cock. The air is clogged with the stink
of and sweat, the musk of males in rut, muffled groans and
exclamations of delight and muttered curses.
One by one, the brothers start to cum, some in a pledge's mouth, some by
jacking off while waiting for a pledge to return his mouth to the brother's
needy cock. All is either pumped into a pledge's mouth or aimed at his
body; no sperm is wasted. Each brother, after cumming, bows his head,
closes his eyes, slips gently into a pre-programmed sleep state. When all
the brothers at a tub have cum, the pledges in it turn on each other,
sucking each other as they slosh around ankle-deep in piss, getting
themselves off; when the first pledge has and slipped into that deep
trance, his partner jerks off and then joins him in sleep.
Three of the five tubs are completely still now. In the last two, the
pledges are servicing the remaining brothers. Victor is blowing you, just
the way you've trained him to in these past months. Doc, naked now--at
mid-thirties, he works out, looks good--stands beside you, jacking himself
off as he watches your erect rod sliding in and out of Victor's mouth.
Across the tub, Bryce throws his head back; his hand is a blur on his cock.
He gives a short cry and his load jets out onto Victor's back. Bryce looks
down at Victor, his eyelids already going heavy, and he sleeps. Your balls
ride up, tingling. It's the first signal for you: orgasm imminent. Your
cock transmutes to coherent fire, and ecstasy ripples outward from it
through your whole being. Your body starts to buck. Realizing what's
happening, Doc clamps his mouth to yours, invades yours with his searching
tongue. You return his kiss as you ejaculate into Victor's mouth. Already
you can feel your jaw going slack, your body relaxing, the thankful
blankness of sleep overwhelming you. Close your eyes. It feels good, and
you let go, let it happen, let it claim you.
Doc wakes you up. You're dressed again, as is he. The brothers are
back in their shorts. Doc gives them a few commands. He holds the
watch--they will listen to his commands as if they were yours. He tells
them to forget or, failing that, to let their memories blur until what just
happened seems a hazy dream, as if they were drunk. He tells them to go
back to where they were before and to wake up with a confident feeling that
the initiation weekend is off to a great start.
The brothers begin filing back up the stairs. The pledges, though, are
still naked. Rub your newly buzzed head as Doc hands you the key to the
rented van. You think you could get used to this look.
Pull the van around to the side of the frat house like he told you to.
You feel awake and free, but are you really? Can you say for sure? It's
late night--where has the time gone? At least none of the neighbors are
awake to see the basement door open and the pledges, clad only in their
briefs, file out and into the van. Doc takes the keys from you and climbs
into the driver's seat. He waves and drives off, leaving you there in the
driveway.
Head back into the house. Some of the brothers have headed off to bed
but a few are still milling around doing last-minute things before calling
it a night. Aside from Doc's appearance, everything seems to be going more
or less according to plan--though you're wondering now exactly whose plan.
That's a question for tomorrow. Right now, you're tired, and a shower
would feel good.
You grab a towel from the supply closet. Head to the showers. They're
semi-communal--an open area with little individual alcoves for partial
privacy. The sound of water spraying as you walk in means someone is
already using one.
Strip down. Throw your towel over the half-wall. Select an alcove
across from Alex, the pledge-master. He says, "Hey there," as you adjust
the temperature, and you say, "Hey," back.
Alex flexes one arm, massaging his shoulder.
"Something wrong?" you ask.
"Not really--just a little sore," he says. "I think I pulled it
somehow."
Probably by lifting one of those heavy clawfoot tubs, you think, though
you don't say that. Instead, you say, "Turn around, and I'll massage it
for you."
He eyes you for a second. "Well," he says, "okay--if you don't mind."
He turns his back to you, facing the wall.
Cross the space between you and join him. You can't help but notice his
fine, fine ass. Turn him slightly so that the warm shower sprays down on
his shoulder. You begin to massage, rubbing and coaxing the muscles. Alex
hums his approval. His ass and the feel of his muscular body have your
cock stirring again.
"You're tense," you say. "You should relax." Without the watch to use
as a trigger, you'll have to do this the hard way. So you say to Alex,
"Why don't you close your eyes and take a deep breath for me."
He's turned away from you, so you can't tell if he closes his eyes, but
his rib expand as his lungs fill ... then release.
"That's it," you say. "Turn loose now, and relax. Take another deep
breath for me ... That's right. Let it out and let a good, pleasant
feeling go all across your body. Let every muscle and every nerve grow so
loose, limp, and so relaxed. Let your arm go limp now, just like a rag
doll. That's good."
His subconscious mind understands what is happening and is already
shifting him into a more cooperative state.
"Now, Alex, I want you to focus on how relaxing my hands feel as they
massage your shoulder. We're going to send that pleasant wave of
relaxation through your entire body, from the top of your head to the tips
of your toes. Just let every muscle and nerve grow loose, limp, and so
relaxed. Yeah, you're feeling more relaxed with each breath."
You can feel his muscles shifting under your hands, loosening. He's
responding nicely.
"Feeling so relaxed. So drowsy and sleepy. So calm; so relaxed.
You're relaxing more with each easy beat of your heart ... with each easy
breath that you take ... with each sound that you hear. Your arms are
loose and limp, just like a rag doll. When I raise your hand, just let the
weight of it hang limply in my fingers. And when I drop it, send a wave of
relaxation all through your body. As you feel you hands touch your body,
send that wave of relaxation from the top of your head all the way down to
the very tips of your toes. As you do, you find that you double your
previous level of relaxation."
You lift his arm straight out from his shoulder. It's limp in your
grip. When you release it, it falls back against his hip with a wet slap.
"That's it, Alex. So deeply relaxed," you say. "So relaxed and so
deeply asleep. Now, in a moment I'm going to do something that helps you
relax even more, Alex. You'll like that, wouldn't you? Yes, I know you
will."
You look around--your choices are soap or shampoo.
"Alex, I want you to spread your legs for me a little. Can you do that?
So easy to spread your legs and relax even further. That's it. Good,
Alex--you're doing fine."
Shampoo it is. Smear some over your hard cock, coating the head and
shaft. "Alex, you know what I'm going to do, don't you? You know how
deeply this always helps you relax, don't you?"
Dibble some shampoo over his asshole and wind your finger up inside him.
"So relaxed. Everything I do helps you relax even more, doesn't it?"
Inside his hard ass cheeks, his is tight, but his subconscious mind
knows how to relax it and accept your cock. Still, it takes a couple of
tries before your cock-head pops past the ring of muscle guarding his
entrance.
"That's it, Alex. Everything helps you relax even more."
You slip in a few inches of your shaft. His subconscious mind is used
to this, knows how to cooperate, knows how to help his beautiful body get
fucked. His ass-ring snaps tightly around you, making your anxious cock
throb and your nuts buzz. His body shifts--his subconscious working with
you the way you've trained it--and he pushes back against your pole. Now
your pubes are scratching against his arching butt.
"That's right, Alex. You know just what to do to help me relax you,
don't you? Help me relax you, Alex."
His ass moves, grinding against your crotch. Your hips also know what
to do, and your horny body takes over, driving your aching cock in and out
of Alex's grip. You look down and watch yourself fuck him, your dick
sliding between his perfect ass cheeks.
You can feel every nook and cranny of his ass. You're going for
broke--stroking your cock in his butt and working up to full speed. The
shower spraying down on you washes away the sweat as you relentlessly pump
into him.
"Feels great, doesn't it, Alex?" you whimper into his ear. "Helps you
relax so deeply."
You're counting--it takes you less than one hundred strokes. Alex gives
an involuntary moan. His body shudders and his asshole spasms around your
cock as he cums without touching his cock. Reaching the edge takes you ten
more strokes, and one more stroke sends you into that place where pleasure
floods through you as your floods through you. You pull out at the
last second, stroking yourself as your load jets onto Alex's back and butt
and is rinsed away.
"That's it, Alex," you pant, once you can form words again. "So deeply
relaxed now, aren't you? Now I want you to turn off the shower and go dry
off. If you want to wake up, it'll happen when it feels natural for you to
do so. Or you can go back to your room, and lie down on your bed, and go
directly to sleep, a nice, restful sleep. I'll leave that up to you."
Alex's hands rise and shut off the shower. You sink back under your own
shower, letting the spray wash away the last of the evidence from your
cock. Alex turns and pads out of the shower. Dip your head back under the
spray and run your fingers through your hair. Yeah, you think, I'm going
to sleep like a baby tonight, myself.
Dry yourself. Alex was gone when you left the shower, but there are
sounds of frat brothers still awake moving around the house. Wrap the
towel around your waist and gather your clothes. Time to head to the guest
room they keep for you; time for bed. You can't wait to crash.
Day 2: Saturday
Wake up to a roaring from outside. Barely past dawn. Lawn mower? At
this time of morning on a Saturday?
Roll over and paw back the curtain. Outside in the back yard, are
several of the pledges. You count quickly; you can spot Victor and eight
pledges--that's all except one. They're all in their underwear--a privacy
fence protects the yard from prying neighbors. They're all singularly
focused on their tasks as one mows, a pair clean the pool, and others trim
the shrubs and rake up the yard. The blankness around their eyes tells you
Doc has taken good care of them, which makes you smile.
A knock on your door.
Stagger out of bed and open the door. "Yeah?" you say, yawning.
"Whazzit?" Okay, so you're not very eloquent first thing in the morning.
It's the missing pledge, a handsome guy in his underwear. His slightly
dazed expression tells you he's in an in-between state--not fully
entranced, but not fully awake either. Acting out some post-hypnotic
suggestion from Doc, perhaps?
He starts to pull something from the small purple velvet pouch in his
hand. "Doc told me to bring this to you." He pulls out the watch by its
chain, holds it up. You're reaching for it when he says, "Relax and obey."
You hand pauses as the familiar fuzziness fills your head and you feel
yourself slip back toward that cooperative place, just like Doc has trained
you. Somewhere far away, your voice says, "... yes sir ..."
The pledge says, "Doc told me to give you the following instructions."
And when the pledge tells you what Doc wants you to do, you feel every word
push its way into your head.
When you open your eyes, you're alone. The pledge has gone. In your
hand, the purple velvet pouch; shifting inside of it, the weight and
outline of the watch.
You don't feel exactly awake yet--kind of half-zoned out, like you do
sometimes after one of your great talks with Doc. But that's all right
because you know what you need to do.
Get a pair of shorts on. You need some time to work with the frat
brothers--you have to make sure they will follow Doc's instructions
precisely, which means you need to send the pledges off for a few hours so
you can work undisturbed.
You track down Alex, the pledge master, and take him aside. A few
instructions, with the watch dangling before his emptied stare, and he
knows exactly what you want him to do.
Alex calls in the pledges, shoves their clothes at them. Their eyes
tell you Doc's trance has worn off, though there's no telling what commands
are still waiting to be triggered. Alex tells them they have one minute to
get dressed, grab the list out of his hand, and get the hell out of there.
A scavenger hunt, and they have four hours to find everything on the list.
Alex's vague threats about what might happen if they're late will keep them
motivated.
The pledges scramble into their clothes. Alex has the pledge paddle and
he swings it a few times. They've felt it enough these last few weeks to
know he means business. One of pledges tries to grab the list and nearly
gets hit by the paddle. Alex is zeroing in on a couple of pledges who are
still pulling on their shoes. He lands a sound swat on one's butt--the
pledge knows to bark out, "Sir! Thank you, Sir!" as the brothers laugh.
Another pledge, lunging in from behind Alex, grabs the list, and then the
whole lot of them are bolting for the front door as fast as they can run,
while the brothers jeer and laugh at them.
The pledges will soon find that the list doesn't make much sense--a mix
of things that will probably seem almost random--and there's no way they'll
find everything on it. So you have at least four hours to do your job.
First, you need to give the frat's leaders their special instructions.
You tell Alex to wait for you in your room. You have to find Bryce the
president and Jake the social chair.
Bryce is easy--you find him in the room, parked with some of the
brothers in front of the game. "Where's Jake?" you ask him.
He slugs back a hit of his beer, not taking his eyes off the instant
replay being rerun yet again onscreen. "Ah ...," he says nonchalantly
after he swallows, "I think he went out running. He'll be back soon."
"Bryce, I need to discuss some things with you about initiation."
"Later." He's already jabbing his hand at the screen, hooting, "Holy
fuck!--did you see that? Man, he was right in there! Man. I can't
believe this shit!" The brothers groan appreciatively.
"Bryce, we need to do it now."
He looks at you. "Huh? The pledges won't be back for hours. There's
plenty of time to--"
Lift the watch from the pocket of your shorts and hold it in front of
him. The others are glued to the TV. Bryce's eyes are glued to the watch.
Whisper, so only he can hear, "Bryce, relax and obey."
His eyes go glassy; his expression goes slack. "... Yes sir ..." he
mumbles, and you smile.
"Bryce, let's go to my room. We have some very important plans to talk
over."
"Plans ..." he echoes as he stands up and follows you.
Just as you pass the front door, it opens. Conveniently, it's Jake.
Sweaty and panting, fresh from his run. "Hey," he gasps at you. He tugs
off his tee-shirt and wipes his face and neck with it.
"Good run?" you ask.
"Yeah." He puts his hands on his hips, atop the elastic waistband of his
gym shorts. "Did an extra mile today," he says around his panting. "I'm
seriously wiped."
"Hope you're not too wiped. We have some things to discuss before the
pledges get back."
"Yeah? Where'd they go?"
"Scavenger hunt. Alex gave them a list that'll keep 'em busy. They've
got four hours."
Jake tucks his tee-shirt in the waistband of his shorts, in back like a
tail. "Cool--then I've got time for a shower." He lifts an arm and sniffs
the pit, makes a face.
"I'm 'fraid not. I need to discuss some things with you."
"But I'm all sweaty and--"
"Don't worry about that. The only thing that matters right now"--lift
the watch up so he can see it, and revel in the way his eyes empty out as
his mind begins to return to that familiar trance state--"is this. Relax,
and obey."
"... yes sir ..." he recites, arms slipping and dangling limply at his
sides.
"Follow me, Jake. I have some special instructions to give you in my
room." Turn and lead the way.
Giving them their instructions takes less time than you thought, because
they're very receptive. When they have awakened, stretched and yawned as
if rousing from a great nap, and sleepily stumbled out of your room, you
feel this terrific peaceful feeling come over you--you've fulfilled your
own orders just as Doc intended.
The pledges make it back more or less right on time. Most of the items
they had to find were easy: flour, syrup, onions, clothesline, whistles,
Ben-Gay cream, duct tape, clothes pins, candles and matches, an instant
camera, film. Some were clearly intended to put them in embarrassing
situations: buying magazines from four different stores, taking a
picture of each pledge naked in front of the Student Union. Some items
were impossible to find, and in the end they had to come back without them
to meet the time limit. Oh, well--those items were mostly to keep them
busy, though Alex administers one lick apiece with the paddle as punishment
for not bringing back everything anyway.
The brothers herd the pledges into the basement and into the furnace
room, where the pledges are made to strip completely. Alex pushes the door
shut after them, and the lock makes an ominous click. The pledges' orders
are to use the clothesline to make a "necklace" of several half onions, and
a whistle. The brothers leave the nine naked pledges, and Victor who is
still getting the pledge treatment as punishment for yesterday, in that
stuffy room. To the pledges, crowded in there, the time must seem like
hours. That's the idea. As the brothers set up the basement for the
ceremonies, the pledges must be wondering what the weird sounds filtering
through the door mean. The furnace room is probably reeking with sweat and
onions as the temperature creeps up. Their eyes must be burning from the
onions. They're probably miserable and worried about whether they'll make
it through what's surely coming next.
When you give the sign, Alex bursts through the furnace room door and
starts yelling orders at the pledges. They file out, single file, looking
like deer. They're naked, stinking of onions and sweat; they have to be
feeling vulnerable. They're confronting a half-circle of brothers, all
dressed in shorts. A couple have on baseball caps, some turned backward.
The brothers all have the same look in their eyes, a glazed, intense
expression, totally focused and giving no quarter.
Alex commands the pledges to stand at attention and look straight ahead
at all times. Jake starts yelling the standard questions at them, and the
brothers yell too, until the whole half-circle of them are yowling and
jumping like monkeys. "When was this fraternity founded?" "Why?" "What
makes you think you'd make a worthy brother?"
By now, the pledges know that most are trick questions--no right answer.
Hal yells, "You there--how many in your pledge class?"
The pledge snaps out the correct answer: "None, Sir. We're all
worthless piles of shit."
Each time a pledge misses a question, a punishes him. Sometimes
by throwing a pail of hot water on him, other times with a bucket of ice
water or a beer in the face. The brothers throw a mixture of the flour and
syrup, which the pledges had picked up on the scavenger hunt, on their
soaked, naked bodies until it begins to form a gummy second skin. The
brothers accuse the pledges of having small dicks and laugh at them and
throw more of the syrup and flour mix at them. When one of the pledges
starts getting a hard-on, the brothers stop it with more buckets of ice
water.
Finally, well after midnight, it is over for the night. The pledges are
dripping, covered with a scum of flour and syrup. The brothers pass out
toothbrushes to the pledges and Alex orders them to clean up the grimy
floor with the toothbrushes.
When they're finally finished, just prior to dawn, having worked all
night on the floor, Jake and the brothers pull in five sleeping bags and
tell the pledges to sleep two to a bag. They are not allowed to clean the
beer, syrup, and flour off.
Day 3: Sunday
Two hours later, at about 4:00 in the morning, the pledges are awakened
to blazing overhead lights and bellowing brothers. They have to climb out
of their sleeping bags quickly to avoid being kicked by the brothers.
They're herded out, still naked, into the back yard by four of the
brothers, who will hose the flour and syrup and stink off of them. No need
to worry about the neighbors, thanks to the privacy fence and the
early-morning hour.
While the pledges are being hosed down, you have work to do. The rest
of the brothers are still gathered in the basement. "Hey," you yell.
"Everybody, can I have your attention? Hey! Everyone! Can I have your
attention, please?" When you're satisfied that they're all looking at you,
pull the watch out and hold it up where they can all see it. Recite the
words: "Relax and obey. Relax and obey."
Collectively, they chorus back at you: "... yes sir ..."
You give them the commands which somehow you know you're supposed to
say. You make sure they know exactly what will be required.
"May I?" says a familiar voice from behind you, and Doc reaches around
to take the watch from you.
"Oh, hi," you begin. "I didn't know you were here--"
He ignores you. "Relax," he says, smiling as he holds the watch up in
front of you, "and obey."
"Yes sir ..." says your voice, coming from farther and farther away.
Doc repeats the commands that you just gave to the brothers, and you
understand.
The brothers are starting to wake up--slowly, at their own paces.
They're blinking and looking around like they're not sure what just
happened. They don't have long to worry about it because the pledges,
still dripping wet, are led back in. Doc takes the four brothers who were
their escorts aside so that he can prepare them. The other brothers put
down plates on the floor--one piece of toast per plate--and make the
pledges eat their breakfast with their hands clasped behind their backs.
Then the pledges are ordered to line up and bend over. The brothers pelt
them with a barrage of questions like the night before, questions with no
right answer. Each time a pledge misses a question, a administers
the smack of a paddle on his bare ass.
Who knows how long this goes on. In this windowless basement, with
rapid-fire questions coming from all quarters, time loses all meaning. The
pledges are off-balance from lack of sleep, disoriented. The brothers
douse the overhead lights. A few of them have powerful flashlights, and
they're running around the line of pledges, strobing the light beams around
the room, at the other brothers, and point-blank in the pledges' faces.
The other brothers--lost in the impenetrable darkness then picked out by a
sweep of light, then lost in darkness again--yell and bellow question after
question at the pledges. This keeps the pledges confused, blinded, unable
to concentrate; they make more mistakes and are rewarded with more
paddlings.
Jake starts in hard on one of the pledges, firing off question after
impossible question, paddling him for wrong answers and using his hand on
the pledge's bare ass too. Jake's blows are getting harder and faster.
The pledge's ass starts to glow pink in the occasional flashlight beams,
then red. He's really pushing the pledge. Then the pledge makes a
mistake: he's had enough and he turns around, ready to stop Jake from
paddling him. As you ordered, hell breaks loose with the brothers.
They're bellowing about how they deal with pledges who fight back,
demanding punishment. Two flashlight beams focus on the several brothers
who swarm him, picking out body parts as the brothers and the pledge
struggle in the darkness. The brothers wrestle the pledge to the floor,
while Alex orders the other pledges to stand at attention to "watch and
learn." Under the piecemeal glare of the flashlights, the pledge is dragged
over to one of the tables, and the brothers use the clothesline from the
scavenger hunt to tie his arms and feet to the four corners of the table,
leaving the pledge spread-eagle, face up, and helpless. The look in his
eyes in the stark flashlight beam is defiant, but there's nothing he can
do.
The pledges are ordered to bend over again, and the questioning and
paddling begins anew. The pledge who was tied to the table starts yelling
at the brothers to stop, and they quickly gag him. The pledges have had
enough, and they're starting to rebel. Another pledge has had enough and
whirls around, ready to fight rather than take another paddle lick. A
flashlight beam blinds him. Several brothers swarm over him, yelling and
swearing, and they haul him over to the other table. Other brothers join
them, and pretty soon this second pledge is tied down too, spread-eagle
like the first pledge, and gagged.
The overhead lights come on again, leaving the brothers and pledges
alike blinking against its glare. You're standing by the table, and you
bend over and whisper a few words in the spread-eagle pledges' ears. These
are words you somehow know you're to say to them, commands. Their cocks
immediately start rising, rising, hardening, swelling, stiffening,
stretching. The first pledge's eyes look mortified. He's intensely aware
of his hard-on, now in plain view of everyone. He's probably trying
desperately to think of something else, anything else, to make it go down.
But it's no use. He is getting hard, almost fully hard now--which maybe
has never happened to him in front of other before. The second pledge,
though, just closes his eyes, resigned to the insults he knows must be
coming.
One of the brothers notices and yells out that the spread-eagle pledges
are faggots. The pledges both have nice-sized cocks, but several of the
brothers gather around and taunt them about how small their cocks are.
Alex orders the pledges to gather around the table. He yells that he
has a "game" he wants them to play with the spread-eagle pledges. "Listen
up, scumbags," he tells them. "This game is called 'Milking,' and you're
all going to play. Count off by twos." After the pledges have dutifully
counted off into two groups of four each, Alex tells them, "The game is
simple: each group will take one of these shitholes"--he gestures at the
spread-eagle pledges--"and all you have to do is milk your victim and make
him four times. The first time will be easy, but it's gonna to get
harder each time. You have half an hour. If you do not make him four
times, your whole group will be punished."
The pledges look at one another, uncertain.
"Begin, worms!" Jake bellows, and he smacks the paddle against the
closest pledge's butt. That sets them to work. One pledge reaches out
tentatively and starts jacking off the bound pledge in front of him. The
others watch, and after a few seconds, a pledge from the other group
reaches out and starts jacking off his own bound pledge. As predicted, the
first time only takes a few minutes. First one of the bound pledges and
then the other arches against his restraints, moans into his gag, and
shoots his first load of cum.
Not wanting to lose time, the pledges keep jacking their bound victims.
One victim starts going soft, while the other seems to be staying hard.
The hard victim's cock is still too sensitive from cumming, but he's
helpless. Alex squirts Ben-Gay into the palm of one pledge from each
group, orders them to smear it on the bound pledges' tender nipples and
scrotums, which they do immediately. The muffled moans from both bound
pledges make the others think they're enjoying it, almost. The hard victim
twists against his restraints, then cums a second time. The pledges in his
group are elated. They are half-way to their goal!
It's clear that the pleasure of being jacked off repeatedly is turning
into a torture for the bound pledges. The one who has twice is now
limp too--until you whisper the command into his ear again and his sore
cock starts to reinflate. Whisper that command into the other pledge's
ear, and his cock starts to harden again too. The two bound pledges are
spent, but they cannot stop what is happening to them.
After several minutes, the pledges seem no closer to getting their bound
victims to cum, and they're starting to get a little nervous. Both victims
are hard, but their bodies show no signs of being ready to cum. Alex is
moving among the pledges, smearing Ben-Gay on all of their nipples and
scrotums. They're shifting uncomfortably as the cream begins to burn their
sensitive areas. Several of them are getting hard, and they look
humiliated, miserable.
You move around the outskirts of one group of pledges. This one, the
pledge standing farthest away from the table, will do nicely. He has a
nice erection, which you remember from your many training sessions with
him. A great body too--he's on the baseball team. From nowhere, you know
what you need to say to him. You lean in from behind and whisper the
command into his ear. The pledge doesn't appear to have noticed. Then he
shakes his head, like he's trying to clear it. He moves in closer to the
bound pledge, licks his lips. He pushes the jacking pledge out of the way.
"We ... uh ... we need to try something ... else," he says uncertainly
as he leans in and kisses the victim's cock. His lips spread over the
victim's cock head and he starts to blow the bound pledge.
The blowing pledge fumbles for his hard-on, jacks himself off as he
blows the victim. All of the other pledges are gawking at him. That gives
you an opening. To the pledge at the edge of the other group, you whisper
the same command. He shudders, but he understands what he is to do. His
body understands too, because he has an erection. He heads to the table
and licks the bound pledge's cock, then guides it into his mouth, starts
sucking it and jacking himself off. This bound pledge has only once,
and after about a minute he bucks and moans, and the pledge comes
off of his cock and lets him shoot across his belly. The sucker aims his
own prick at the load on his partner's stomach and shoots his own load.
While the sucker is still panting and riding his afterglow, the other bound
pledge begins to for his third time, followed soon by the pledge who
was him.
"Time!" Alex calls.
Panicked expressions on the pledges--neither team has reached its goal,
and they know Alex meant business and the only question is what kind of
punishment he has in store for them.
Hal isn't waiting. He strides up to the pledge who was blowing the
other victim and pulls him off. "On your knees, worm," Hal snarls. "I'm
gonna show you how to suck a real man's dick." He pushes the pledge to his
knees. The pledge's eyes are wide with fear and hunger. Hal shoves his
shorts down to mid-thigh, unleashing his hard cock. It's a really big one,
and the pledge's eyes widen in fear and wonder. Hal wraps one hand around
the base of his meat, the other around the back of the pledge's head, and
he pushes it at the pledge's mouth. "Suck it, shitbag."
The brothers and pledges alike watch, their breath held, as the panicky
pledge drops his mouth open and Hal roughhouses his dick inside. For good
measure, you say two things out loud. One is a repeat of the command you
whispered to the pledges to initiate their sucking. The other is a command
meant for the brothers.
There's a suspended moment. You see the pledges blink as a shudder runs
through them. You see the brothers' eyes go blank for just a moment. The
air itself carries the tension, rising, purely sexual, as the crotches of
the brothers' shorts all begin to tent. In this moment, the only other
motion is the pledge, lips buried in Hal's pubes, a tear forming in
the corner of his eye from the strain of opening his mouth that far. The
pledge begins to slide his mouth back toward the head of it, resigns
himself to following the command to suck it.
Some lets out a howl, and the brothers collectively surge
forward, swarming around the pledges. The pledges are forced to their
knees. Shorts are shoved down, or left limp around one ankle, or doffed
completely. For the pledges, time has lost all its perspective. All they
know, and all they will remember, is that they must suck the other men's
dicks. And that they do.
The brothers are greedy; they pull the pledges off each other and plug
themselves in until another pulls the pledge away after a few
strokes. Someone has freed the two bound pledges--they're on their knees
amid this melee too.
Hal roars in his orgasm. He pulls his cock out and pumps it himself,
jetting his across the pledge's neck and shoulder and cheek.
Immediately the pledge is pulled away to service another brother, probably
thankful that the other is more average in size.
As the brothers one by one abandon their encumbering shorts, it's harder
to tell who is lord and who is victim--only their positions on their knees
marks the pledges.
Michael, Tommy, and Jake have a pledge bent face-down over the table.
Michael and Jake are holding his arms. Tommy, between the pledge's legs,
thrusts his hips. He's an in rut, conscious only of his dick
fucking the pledge's ass. No--this isn't a pledge: this is Victor, whose
punishment for not submitting to your commands is to be treated like a
pledge again. He's learned his lesson--you can tell he has learned not to
try to fight his conditioning in the future.
Victor isn't struggling much. Tommy and Jake are both jacking
themselves off as Michael takes his pleasure from Victor's ass. You join
them, kicking off your shorts and stroking your erection. Tommy lets go of
Victor's arm entirely, reaches over to tweak Jake's nipple. Jake moans,
then pulls Tommy's face across Victor's back and kisses him. Jake breaks
off the kiss and turns and kisses you, his tongue sliding inside to play
against the roof of your mouth as you kiss him back. Michael is out of
Victor's ass, jacking, spurting across Victor's butt cheeks and spine.
Tommy swats Michael's ass playfully as they swap places. Tommy works his
hard-on into Victor's ass. He says something that you can't entirely make
out over the din of brothers rutting, something that might be, "Oh,
man!--sweet ass!" Tommy slaps Victor's still-pink ass as he starts fucking.
Victor tosses his head back, mouth open in a silent ring of pleasure. Jake
climbs onto the table, on his knees; he pulls Victor's shoulders up and
presents his erection to Victor, who dutifully lets it into his mouth.
Victor is impaled on both ends by grinning brothers. Jake reaches forward
and tousles Tommy's hair, and Tommy in turn pinches Jake's nipple, which
makes Jake spasm in joy.
All around you, pledges are performing acts of devotion, worshipping the
brothers' cocks. Brothers are responding--more and more of them--by losing
themselves to the need to and anointing the pledges with their cream.
Even Doc over there, pants around his ankles, is getting blown.
Around you, Michael is watching Jake and Tommy bend forward to kiss
across Victor's back. Your cock is broadcasting that familiar ecstatic
buzz through every nerve in your body. Push your hips forward as your hand
pumps at your cock, and shoot onto Victor's shoulder and back. Jake's cock
slips out of Victor's mouth, and Michael reaches out to touch it, then
stroke it. Jake seems surprised as his orgasm washes over him; he gasps,
then yelps, as his body shudders involuntarily and his surges out
across Victor's back.
Michael and Jake kiss, then Michael and Tommy. Tommy slams his hips
finally against Victor's butt, and Tommy's own ass clenches, and his body
jerks, head snapped back, as he cums hard in Victor's ass.
When Tommy pulls out, they allow Victor to roll over. Victor works his
erection furiously. They tease him about the size of his cock, about
jacking off, about looking at their bodies while he does it, but their
razing can't stop Victor. Michael and Tommy work his nipples as he jacks.
Victor writhes and groans and shoots his load across his own stomach.
Now that almost all the brothers and pledges have cum, and the last one
or two are riding over the edge into bellowing orgasm even now, it's time
for you to initiate the final step before they have a chance to think about
what has happened. You find Bryce the frat president and Alex the
pledge-master in the mass of sticky, naked bodies and give them the word,
and they announce that the pledges have passed through their hell and are
now full members of the fraternity. The brothers cheer and slap the former
pledges on their backs as the brothers help them to their feet. Some of
the brothers bring in coolers of beer. The brothers herd around the naked,
cum-covered pledges and shower them with beer spray and foam before
thrusting the cans into their hands and celebrating with toast after toast.
The former pledges are grinning, aware of part of what just happened and
maybe uncertain why they allowed it, but happy to have made it through.
There's still the swearing-in ceremony to go, but that's just a
formality. For these pledges, the hell of rush is over, and their lives as
full brothers are just beginning. You--and Doc--will be beside them the
whole way. Their obedience throughout rush has proven that your
conditioning inside them is strong, and that will help you help them in
their respective sports. Yeah, it also means that you're going to enjoy
the rest of this semester, and the next, and the next. You finger the
watch that Doc has returned to you, and smile.
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