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Frat Legacy – 2

13034 words | 0 |3.00

It’s time for our two newcomers to understand the rules of the frat. Scott and Freddy learn what it is expected of them. Easy life versus Slavery.

Freddy Toph was forced to wake up. He felt like he had been sucker punched to the gut. He opened his eyes in a state of confusion and the only thing he saw was a cute, pretty-boy face that was smirking maliciously down at him from up there.

“Rise and shine, slave! How’d you sleep?” Ackerman’s morning baritone taunted him. The annoying jock was standing on him, one foot on his chest and the other on his stomach. The gay boy groaned painfully and tried to shake him off but he had zero strength. “Uuuhh, that cranky already?” As he said that Scott stepped off him and walked to the bathroom. Freddy groaned a second time as all the events from the previous evening were flooding his already stressed out brain. One more time the soundtrack to his thoughts was Scott’s loud, gurgling pissing. Freddy had another hard-on. It was probably his usual morning wood, nothing more. No connection between the two facts whatsoever. He sat up and tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. He hadn’t slept well. The hardwood floor of their room was… well, hard and his neck and shoulders were a little stiff.

The flow of piss slowly softened and Freddy furtively glanced sideways. The bathroom door was open and Freddy was surprised by the breathtaking view. Scott was standing in front of the toilet, hands on his hips, dick out and pissing. Just pissing, like any other guy would. But Freddy could not ignore the nicely shaped bubble ass the jock had or the gorgeous soft seven incher that was happily dangling in the boy’s crotch area. He was mesmerized by the vision and literally averted his eyes seconds before getting caught. He adjusted his junk, trying to act nonchalant. He heard the boy flush.

“What time’s your first class?” Scott asked, walking towards him, wearing nothing but his boxers. Fuck, why did he have to be this hot?

Freddy cleared his throat.

“Nine…” he mumbled.

“Same.” Scott said distractedly, checking his phone “Alright, Imma take a dump, then I gotta shower.” he announced and was about to walk into the bathroom again but then “Oh, here!” He grabbed something from the nightstand and threw it at Freddy. It was a key. Freddy frowned at him “Run to my dormroom and get me a change of clean clothes.” Scott instructed “Nothing fancy, just a shirt and jeans will do. Oh, and underwear, of course.”

“What?” asked Freddy indignantly.

“Don’t worry, you can pack the rest of my stuff later and bring it here.” Ackerman said cheerfully.

“Have you lost your mind?”

The jock raised his eyebrows.

“Better play nice, slave! Remember who’s in charge!” he flashed him a smile, so cocky it was maddening.

Freddy counted to ten before mumbling an extremely begrudging ‘fine’.

“Good! Now move it, you don’t wanna make me late, do you?” and with that he closed the bathroom door behind him.

Freddy kept cursing under his breath for the better part of the following twenty minutes, calling his new roommate every name he could think of and when he finally got back to his room, the bathroom door was still closed and he could hear the shower running. He put the clean clothes on the jock’s messy bed.

“Better make that bed before he comes out!”

Freddy jumped out of his skin and turned around to see none other than Mr. Perfect in the flesh, the president of the frat, Cameron Davenport. The extremely handsome boy was leaning against the doorframe and was looking at him with the same air of smugness he had donned the previous night.

“Oh… Uhm… Yes, Cameron… I mean, Sir…” Freddy was pretty much terrified of the guy but most importantly he wanted to get into his good grace so ridiculously bad, talking back wasn’t even an option. He simply moved the clothes he had just placed on the bed and started to straighten it up.

“I know, it’s your first day as a slave and you haven’t even been given the training tour yet, so I’ll let this one slide…” Cameron said quite sternly. “But you really shouldn’t let that kinda shit happen cause it’s gonna get you in trouble and you don’t wanna give a bad impression right off the bat, do you?”

“N… no! Of course not!” Stammered Fred.

“Thought so!” Cameron smiled “And yet you’re standing while I’m right here! That’s not very smart…” Freddy stopped making the bed and looked at his interlocutor, trying to get what he was saying.

“Y… you mean I sh… should… like…”the gay kid said.

“Get down on all fours in front of you Masters? You bet!” He was speaking to him in such a patronizing tone, like he was a five-year-old dummy.

“R… right…” Freddy degraded himself in front of the handsome president of that frat he would have killed to get in. It was all a practical joke, anyways and it was just for a few weeks. The water noise from the shower stopped.

“That was rule number one by the way.” Cameron said “Now crawl over here.” he continued pointing to a spot right before his feet.

Freddy obliged.

“What do you think rule number two is, slave?” He was towering over Freddy who was looking up to that gorgeous cocky smirk.

“Uhm… I don’t know, Sir…” Freddy said in a small voice.

“Well, I’ll give you a hint. It’s what you have to do every single time you see one of us…” Cameron said, entertained “I heard that’s how you said goodnight to Scott last night.”

Freddy’s stomach turned slightly as one of those boys’ words came back to him suddenly: ‘C’mon, dude, you’ll be doing it like a million times a day from now on. Better get started!’.

“Well?” Cameron demanded.

“Uhm… kiss your feet, Sir?” Freddy replied.

“Bingo!” Cameron’s sneer widened as Freddy’s mouth went dry. There was something about those piercing green eyes that made it impossible for the gay boy to defy. He swallowed hard and probably hesitated a second too long because Cameron asked “You got a problem with that, slave?”

“N… no, Sir…” Freddy managed to say as the voice in his brain went ‘Just fucking do it, idiot!’

He leaned down and kissed Cameron’s black Nikes. Once.

“Better not be this slow from now on, slave.” cautioned Cameron “Remember, your future here depends on your performance as a slave and it’s mainly Scott who’s gonna judge you on that, so you better keep him reeeeeeal happy, capish?”

“Y… yes, Sir!” murmured Freddy whose tumultuous feelings were about to explode in his chest. Why did it have to be Scott Ackerman? Why did it have to be someone he’d known for years? It would’ve been way easier if it was a complete stranger. He hated that cocky jerk.

The bathroom door opened and a bare-chested Scott came out, wearing only a towel around his waist. His hair was wet and so was the rest of his chiseled body. “Hey, man! What’s up!?” he said, smiling at Cameron.

“Yo!” Cameron smiled back at him “How was your first night as a brother?”

“Awesome! This bed is fucking dope! I slept like a log!” Scott said conversationally.

“I know, right? Should try fucking in it!”

“Haha! Trust me, I’m soooo gonna!” The two jocks shared a laugh, then Scoot looked down at Freddy “So what’s going on here?”

“Not much, I was just teaching your roomate the right way to greet a brother, right slave?”

“Uhm… yes Sir…” replied Freddy and reckoning actions might have worked better than words he unwillingly crawled over to Scott, not daring to look up at him, and kissed each of his wet bare feet. They didn’t smell bad or anything but the gesture was so inherently humiliating “Good morning, Sir!” he said.

“Haha! Well, that’s a very nice improvement from half an hour ago! Hehe!” Scott lifted his right foot and ‘petted’ him on the head “Good morning to you too, slave!”

Freddy felt a surge of anger.

“How ‘bout thanking your master for letting you sleep on the floor next to him, slave?” Cameron chimed in.

“Thank you for letting me sleep on the floor, Sir…” Freddy managed in a flat tone as a whirlwind of emotions were storming inside of him. He hated all this. He hated Scott. Yet his dick was hard. There was no denying it. Why?

“Sure, slave! That’s definitely the best place for you, don’t you think? Hehe!” Scott snickered.

“Yes, Sir!”

Ackerman was being nastier now that his patron was here to support him but Freddy Toph had an objective in mind. Becoming a brother of Pi Kappa Alpha and, no matter what, he was gonna make the cut. Mind over matter. Mind over fucking matter! He kept repeating it under his breath.

“C’mon! Get dressed, freshman! You’re coming with me!” Cameron said amused.

“With you? I have a class at 9!” Scott replied.

“Yeah, I know but you’re skipping. You both are actually.” Cameron informed them “Frat business…” he said mysteriously and the two younger boys frowned slightly at each other.

“Frat business?” Scott asked, putting on the clean clothes Freddy had procured for him.

“Yep! I’m pretty sure you got like a million questions. Besides you need to be briefed!” Cameron said “So I’m taking you, Alec and my bratty little brother while my buddy Andy is taking our new slaves.” Then he shrugged “Standard procedure.”

Freddy was a little troubled by the news. He didn’t want to skip class, he was not that kind of guy. Scott on the other hand, didn’t look worried at all.

“Alright, cool!” he said, about to reach for his Vans.

“Dude, dude! Sit back down, c’mon! He’s never gonna learn if you make it that easy for him!” Cameron stopped him “Hey slave! Bring your Master his shoes!”

Freddy looked at him for an instant, then obeyed. He crawled where the shoes were and, again, reckoning he should show this guy he meant business, he willingly acted exactly like a dog. He leaned down and grabbed the rim of both shoes between his teeth.

“Haha! Nice touch, slave! You’re a quick study! I like that!” Cameron said, extremely amused.

“Hahaha! That’s a good doggy! Must have liked kissing these shoes last night, huh?” Scott ruffled his pink hair. Freddy would have bitten his hand off, had he been able to. Of course he didn’t.

The two jocks left as soon as Scott was ready. He, on the other hand, was to clean the bathroom and then join Andy ‘the tour guy’ and the other ‘slave’, whose name he didn’t know, in the common room downstairs. Just great.

When he got there the other guy was already seated at one of the tables near the kitchen.

“Uhm… hi…” Freddy said.

The only answer he got was an extremely bleak “Hey…” which told Freddy he probably had had a rougher night than his own and that was saying something. He didn’t even look at him, he was staring at the table. There were only a few guys tinkering in the kitchen, maybe making breakfast? But no one else was in the room, it was probably too early for most of the brothers, especially after such a big party.

“Hey, so, we didn’t get the chance to introduce each other last night, I’m Freddy.” the pink haired boy said tentatively, sitting opposite the other.

“Ben…” not another word. Ok so the guy was not particularly chatty. Noted.

They sat there in awkward silence for a few minutes. The smell of bacon and eggs and toast would have been super inviting any other day. But Freddy wasn’t hungry and, by the looks of it, neither was Ben.

“Good, you’re both here!” They turned as Andy was walking towards them. Ben shot up from his seat before Freddy could even form a thought, went down on all fours and crawled towards the brother who looked surprised. “Oh… you… you don’t have to do that…” Andy said embarrassed, like that whole thing was not to his liking. Freddy tried to focus, his memories from the previous night were a bit fuzzy but he could have sworn he had seen this guy kneeling in a balcony in front of Cameron. His head hurt a little. Ben looked mortified. “Look, why don’t we sit down? We need to go over a few things.”


“And here’s your latte!” the pretty waitress smiled bashfully at Cameron.

“Thanks, beautiful!” the boy answered, flaunting his undeniable charisma “What time do you get off? Maybe you and I could go out for a drink later, what do you say?”.

Scott had to acknowledge how much of a player this guy was and it was no surprise whatsoever when the chick giggled and hurried to say ‘yes’.

“Hey, gotta keep up my quota! hehe!” Cameron winked at him and the other two freshmen after she had left.

“Fuckin’-A-right, dude!” said Alec and they all snickered.

“Alright, boys! Let’s get to business!” Cameron said matter-of-factly but with a mischievous grin “You are now officially Pi Kappa Alpha brothers, for all intents and purposes, which means that you are, therefore, entitled to certain… perks…” he snickered slightly and paused a little dramatically “Of course I’m talking about the massive archive of every single test given on this campus, free tutoring sessions, cheat sheets you could never even dream of, total leniency towards cutting classes and pretty much more pussy than you can possibly fuck!” He listed all those benefits and Scott could feel his lips arching more and more into a happy grin “In short, you’re in for a pretty sweet ride!”

“Definitely like what you’re saying, bro!” said Scott while sipping on his drink.

“Hehe! Yeah, I gotta say that slave shit is pretty fucking awesome too! Haha!” cackled Kit “That little bitch you gave us is a total wimp!”

“Yeah, no shit!” agreed Alec “Your brother even made him cry at one point last night!”

“I made him cry?” protested Kit playfully “You kicked him in the balls!”

“Hey! That was an accident!”

“Three times?”

“Whatever, I didn’t kick him that hard!”

The two boys acted like they had been friends for quite a while now even though they had literally met the day before. Cameron watched them and smiled calmly.

“Oh, I know he’s a wimp!” he said “And so is the pink haired homo he got!” he said pointing at Scott “Am I right, bro?”

Scott smiled. He loved that kind of locker room banter. No fake righteousness or political correctness, just plain and simple words to describe the world.

“Well, yeah, he’s easily the biggest fag on the planet but a wimp? I don’t know. He’s a pain in the ass, that’s what he is!” Scott told them “He never shuts up about fucking queer rights and shit, he’s pretty annoying!”

“Uh! Those are the worst!” Cameron commented “Bet if feels pretty nice to have him down on all fours like your personal bitch, huh?”

“Fuck, yeah! I’m gonna make sure to teach him a lesson in humility, at least till this taming thing is happening.”

Cameron’s smirk deepened. He paused for a second.

“What if I told you that the ‘taming’ is just a coverup?”

The three younger boys frowned. Alec was the one who asked “What do you mean? A coverup for what?”

“Well, you see, over the last fifty years, the selection process for the brothers has been honed to perfection.” Cameron began confidently “And in this frat, just like in life, there are winners like us and losers like them. Pi Kappa Alpha has been helping both sides to understand… how can I put it? Their place in life, I guess!”

They were hanging on his every word but they still looked confused.

“The taming is just a process to make them understand what they really want.”

“Which is?” asked Scott, his eyebrows raised.

“Be slaves.” Cameron replied like it was so obvious.

“Yeah, right!” laughed Scott and so did the other two newcomers. Cameron didn’t though. He was still smiling calmly and knowingly.

“Dude! You being serious?” Alec asked, noticing that.

“Bullshit! You would have told me about it! Don’t fuck with us!” said Kit, somewhere between angry and entertained.

“You were not ready, twerp. Sorry, frat rules!” Cameron shrugged.

“No fucking way!” Alec laughed.

“But what does that even mean?” Scott asked, amused.

“It means that if you play your cards right, you will pretty much own a completely submissive servant at your beck and call, waiting on you hand and foot for the next four years.” again with the reassuring smile and the uber confident attitude.

“C’mon man, get real!” said Scott, still not convinced.

“Why? Would it be that awful?” the frat president asked.

Scott snorted.

“No, dude! It wouldn’t! Fuck, it would be awesome! But it ain’t gonna happen! How the hell are you gonna make them ‘understand their place in life’?”

Cameron smirked again and very conversationally said:

“Oh, that’s easy! With the app!”


“What app?” Freddy asked Andy.

“Why don’t you download it now so I can guide you through it? Here, I’ll send you the link.”

Freddy was frowning a little, unlike that Ben guy, but they both did what their upperclassman said. When the app was installed, they clicked on the icon and they were welcomed by a daunting choice. Slave or Master.

“Really? Isn’t this taking things a little too far? It’s just for a couple of months.” said Freddy kinda irritably.

“Sixty-eight days, to be precise.” Andy corrected him “You see, the frat’s business tends to get very official. We find it’s the most efficient way of running things.” he smiled at them then added “Guess you know where to click.”

Freddy reluctantly proceeded to click on that awful, anachronistic word.

“Here, I already created a username and password for each of you.” prompted the always kind Andy putting a piece of paper in front of them.

“Number 8 and Number 9.” Freddy read outloud “We have numbers? What are we cattle? This is ridiculous!” he mumbled indignantly.

Andy raised his eyebrows.

“No one’s forcing you to do this. Just leave if it’s not what you want.” the older boy said, uncharacteristically bluntly, “Of course you’re gonna give up all the privileges the brothers have, but if it’s too much for you…”

Freddy was a little taken aback. He wasn’t expecting this kinda talk from this guy who was clearly playing with his pride and unfortunately doing a pretty good job. Nope, no way he was gonna give up. If it was the last thing he did he was gonna be part of the frat!

“It’s not, it’s not! I was just… Never mind… Here, I’m logging in!” Freddy said a little awkwardly. Why was the other guy so quiet?

“Good!” Andy smiled his usual amiable smile “Then let me explain what this whole ‘taming’ thing is about.” He continued matter-of-factly “Bottom line, the Frat council wants to know if you’re ‘Brother’ material. That’s to say if you are spirited, strong-willed and manly enough to be part of this glorious institution.” he almost spoke with reverence “You need to show them that you’re worthy. Which is why for the next sixty-eight days the brothers will put you through the most degrading stuff they can come up with… and trust me, they are extremely creative…” he added as a side note “To see if you can take it or if you’re simply gonna crack and leave. You with me, so far?”

The other guy, Ben, nodded quietly. Freddy hissed a resigned ‘yes’.

“Awesome! So the app is our way of keeping score. You will be evaluated constantly by the brothers on how you obey their orders or complete the tasks they assign you.” Andy went on explaining. Freddy’s rage was stirring again “Points will be given and taken from you depending on how well or promptly you perform. Every brother can do that but you will be getting most of your rewards and punishments from your respective masters.”

“Punishments?! Is this a joke?” Freddy couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“No.” replied Andy calmly “Why? I think it’s fair. You need to be punished if you screw up, how else are you going to learn?”

“L… learn??” Freddy was frowning so hard his forehead was starting to hurt “Learn what? This is just a stupid scholarly stunt!”

“Well, it’s a good thing I haven’t finished debriefing you, because a statement like that would have cost you a few points of demerit.” Andy explained inexorably “You don’t question the Fraternity or the brothers, ever! If you do, you get punished… and before you say something you might regret…” Andy pressed on noticing Freddy was about to go on a rampage “…let me remind you, once again, that no one is forcing you to stay. You’re free to give up whenever you want but if you decide to stay you accept the rules.”

The concept was so simple Freddy couldn’t possibly offer any kind or rebuttal. He bit his tongue in frustration and remained silent. Andy commented “Smart!” then went back to explaining the app “You can check your status from the home page as well as all the tasks the brothers assign you to. It’s quite intuitive, really.” Freddy’s brain was about to explode “Now, don’t forget! Your masters will be evaluating you 24/7, you need to keep them happy if you want to have any real chance, ok?” they were almost the same words Cameron had used “Oh, shoot, I was about to forget one of the most important things!” Andy added.

“What?” asked Freddy .

“The required listening.”


“The what, now?” Kit asked, extremely amused by the whole conversation. Cameron chuckled.

“This is pure gold, guys.” He sounded proud, no question. “It actually started in ‘72. Four years after Pi Kappa Alpha was set up. Terry Donning, then president, decided to leave a recording of what he thought real men should act like, compared to… well, faggots and how god and nature made them inherently inferior and how they should be serving us.” Cameron revealed. The three freshmen were listening intently, though still a bit confused. “Obviously the other brothers liked the idea and left similar recordings, sort of like a legacy for the future generations and it became a tradition. Fast forward fifty years and ‘bam’! You got an archive of over six-hundred files which make up what we like to call the ‘required listening’.” he smirked then added “It’s like the world’s most complete and thorough educational podcast… but for fags!”

Scott was trying to process all that info and was seriously about to pinch himself to see if this whole thing was a dream. Or maybe it was one of those social experiments where they test you and there’s cameras everywhere. Was this guy for real? Mind you, not that Scott had any real problem with the content of his words. The household he had been brought up in was definitely one you would call conservative. His dad was a truck driver and his mom was a waitress who pretty much doubled as their doormat which, as much as the boy loved her, he didn’t really see a problem with. Needless to say, faggots and sissies had been discussed at length by his father, in front of the TV, maybe after a few beers and that had been happening since Scott could remember so, again, he had no problem with the content of Cameron’s words. The openness with which he was talking about it, on the other hand, was, although refreshing, a bit surprising. And this whole operation… It sounded like there was a whole process behind it. Something big. Like really big!

“Ok, dude, don’t get me wrong, I’m no fag protector, believe me, but doesn’t this sound like brainwashing… a little?”

Cameron had a funny smile while he shrugged and said:

“Well, it would be brainwashing if we made them believe stuff that’s not true or that goes against their own nature, but that’s not at all what we’re doing here…” he explained “Faggots are inferior. Period. And in my book the only thing they’re good for is making our life easier in any possible way. And the thing is, bro, they know it too, they’re just confused. That’s why I’m saying this is educational for them because it is!” His words carried so much confidence, conviction and most of all persuasion. It was next to impossible not to agree wholeheartedly. He went on “Let me give you an example. I got paired up with Andy when we were both freshmen. Back then he was all fucking ‘out and proud’, whatever the fuck that means…” he sounded disgusted and his face matched his tone. “Now the first time I made him lick my muddy cleats clean he cried the whole fucking time and kept gagging.” Scott, Alec and Kitt were staring at him like he was fucking with them “Now he begs me to do it every single time I come back from training and thanks me for it too. Just like he should. He needs it. Pleasing and serving me is the only thing that really matters to him now. He fucking craves my…”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up! Andy as in ‘tour-guide-Andy’?” Scott said, his eyebrows so high he was starting to look funny.


“He’s your…”

“Slave, yep! He went through the taming three years ago and after the 68 days he pledged as a frat slave and was officially assigned to me. He was branded and everything. There is a whole ceremony…” he started but then went “Look, the point is, you three have a duty. You need to train those two to the point that when the taming is over they actually chose to become part of the frat not as brothers but as slaves. And I mean it in the most literal sense possible. They WILL become property of Pi Kappa Alpha. It’s not just one of those BDSM roleplay shit.”

A few seconds of stunned silence.

“Dude, I’m soooo in!” Alec snorted and high fived Cameron.

“Awesome. Twerp?” the president turned to Kit who snorted even louder than his new best friend.

“You have to ask, bro? C’mon!” was his answer which brought a positively happy grin on Cameron’s face.

“Two down. Ackerman? What’s it gonna be?”

Scott couldn’t hide his smile for long. He shook his head, shrugged and went.

“Whatever, man! This is totally nuts but… sure, what’s the harm? At the very least it will be funny.”

Kitt and Alec laughed approvingly and roughed him up playfully.

Cameron was now donning a cheeky little smirk as he said: “Oh, you have no idea!”

Ben Whitaker was not having a great day. He had listened to everything that Andy guy had said about the frat and the app but most of that stuff he already knew. Dillon had revealed pretty much all of it in the six months they had been in touch. He wasn’t supposed to call him by his name, though. To a submissive little shit like him, that dead gorgeous superior black god was just ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’ and Ben simply couldn’t be happier about it. No, that wasn’t the problem. He was actually looking AT the problem presently, or better yet spying on it. Master Dillon’s door was slightly ajar and the first year was stealing glances of a ripped chocolate-skinned nineteen-year-old boy sporting short dreadlocks with undercut and barely visible chin beard, wearing a white tank top and black basketball shorts. The boy was playing some noisy war videogame and swearing vehemently which was nothing if not ordinary. What was slightly less ordinary was the fact that said boy was sitting very comfortably on a human stool. There was someone on all fours with a grimy-looking jockstrap taped to their face and a pair of socks balled up into their mouth. And that, right there, was indeed a problem for Ben because, simply put, he wanted to be that someone. The kid wanted to be that someone so bad it hurt. Although, it probably didn’t hurt as much as spending his first night there as a punching bag/soccer ball for the two sadistic psychopaths he had been paired up with.

“What the fuck!!” Shouted Master Dillon “That dumb cunt just leveled my fucking base!!” as he said so he slapped the side of his stool’s head angrily. The stool didn’t move “C’mon, FatPig, you’re supposed to bring me luck!!” he smacked the chubby guy even harder which made him moan ever so slightly. Ben’s envy and jealousy were off the charts. His god had such a deep, masculine voice. He would have done anything for him. Anything! That position was uncomfortable and he wanted to see more of his perfect body and couldn’t take it any longer, so he leaned forward a little but, of course, the clumsy idiot he was, he lost balance, fell down on his ass pushing the door to Dillon’s room open.

“What the fuck you doin’ here, bitch?” The handsome features of the sophomore baller frowned down at him.

Ben got up on his knees and bowed humbly.

“I’m… I’m… I’m so sorry, Sir!” he stuttered as his heart was racing from excitement.

“Were you fucking spying on me you little fag perv?”

“W… well… uhm… kinda… I’m sorry, Sir!” He looked and sounded guilty as he scratched his head apologetically. His eyes noticed the athlete’s bare toes wiggling on the beige carpet. He restrained himself.

The second year snorted loudly then went: “Shut the fucking door before someone sees you.”

Ben obeyed instantly. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be seen with him. He went back down to his knees in front of his master.

“So what’s up, bitch?” Master Dillon started playing his game again.

“Uhm…” Ben was too distracted to speak his mind “Sir… do you think I could… maybe…” he was looking hopefully at the boy’s feet.

Dillon looked down at him, understood what he was talking about and smirked meaningfully.

“Well, you know what to do, faggot!”

“Yes, Sir!” Ben gladly took his phone from his pocket and promptly wired fifty bucks to the boy in front of him.

When he got the notification, Master Dillon checked his own phone, smirked again, then said:

“Go ‘head!”

Ben was overwhelmed with joy as he planted his first kiss on his god’s foot in weeks. He moaned as the boy’s masculinity penetrated his weak sissy brain, subjugating it completely. He kissed and kissed again. First his long, perfect toes and then the top of his foot, and then when the black god tilted it and let him lick the sole… Well, that was pure bliss. He savored the salty stale sweat mixed with the dirt and grime the Master had collected walking barefoot in the frat and everything felt, in a word, perfect. He moaned louder.

“Look, I get it! You missed me!” Master Dillon said, still looking at the screen, playing “But I told you last night, I don’t want the brothers to know I told you everything about this place.” he said then added ruefully “I don’t think I was supposed to!”

“I’m shhorry Shir!” Ben’s tongue couldn’t stop working.

“You’re in a house full of jocks, go lick THEIR feet for a change. Isn’t this the whole reason you came here?” He couldn’t have sounded more casual if he had tried.

“Mmmmm… but I wanna be your shlave, Shir…”

“You ARE my slave, faggot, and you’ll always be.” explained Master Dillon distractedly “That’s why you pay me slave tributes every single week, remember?”

Ben’s crotch felt so uncomfortable, trapped in his jeans.

“Mmm… yesshh, Shir… That’s the money I owe you for the privilege of being owned by you!” Ben recited eagerly.

“Yep! And as long as you keep paying me, no one’s gonna take that away from you!” it was a weird reassurance especially because the Master was smirking so widely he was clearly making fun of him. But it worked like a charm.

“Thank you Mashhhter!!” purred the submissive freshman.

“No problem, bitch!” snickered the black boy “All I’m saying is don’t be so fucking obvious about it.” Dillon yawned, “That last thing I want is Cam or Noah up my ass ‘cause I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“You’re right, Shir… I’m shorry, Shyr…” Ben had finished cleaning the god’s left foot and turned to start on the other one “It’s just that I thought we were gonna be paired up…” he said before beginning to kiss.

“Never said we would, bitch.” Dillon answered but it was clear that he was concentrating on the game “Freshmen don’t get paired up with Sophomores.” then he snickered “You’re not worthy yet, hehe!” He was probably joking but Ben loved that kinda humiliating hazing.

“Mmmm… you’re so right, Master…”

“But, hey! If you work hard, one day you might get to be in FatPig’s place, here!” Dillon slapped the side of his human stool again, three times in a row, with increasing violence “Wouldn’t you like that?”

Ben looked up. His master wasn’t even looking at him. He was playing his game, as he should have.

“Yes, Sir! I would absolutely love that!” he said seriously.

“Good, now if you’re done cleaning my feet get lost, bitch.”

Ben’s face morphed into a slightly sadder expression. Time was up. A few minutes was all fifty bucks could buy.

“Yes, Sir…” he said meekly, kissed his godly foot one last time and was about to leave when he actually remembered the reason he had gone to him “Uhm… can I ask you something, Sir?”

“What?” still not looking at him.

“Is there a way I could maybe… you know… be assigned to someone else?” He said with a heavy heart.

“Why?” the black boy frowned.

“W… well… the … the two freshmen…” Ben got cut off.

“They’re your masters, bitch! Show respect!” there was a clear note of annoyment in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Sir! You’re right…” Ben corrected himself “The two Masters are… well… they’re absolutely fantastic and so superior but…”

“But what, bitch? You’re pissing me off! Out with it!”

“Y… yes, Sir… They are very… very aggressive and… and… a little too rough… I don’t know if I can…”

But he didn’t finish. The black god had paused the game and was finally looking directly at him.

“Too rough?” he said mockingly “Ok, let’s recap the last six months real quick, shall we?” he put down the PS controller and turned towards him “You found me on OnlyFans, bought all the shit that was on my profile, then DMed me, telling me I was a god, asked me to become my slave, asked, nope, begged me to treat you like a bitch…” he was listing all those facts that were absolutely true “Then you said you couldn’t go on without meeting me in person so you flew to Louisiana seven times in the past four months so that you could pay me to kick back, let you lick my feet, slap you around, piss on you and a bunch of other freaky, uber-nasty shit …” Ben was feeling more and more like an idiot “Then when you found out about this place you turned down fucking Brown and applied last minute to FSU just so you could become a full time house slave…” he paused “And now you’re telling me those two are too rough?!” he sounded amused “Bitch, what did you think was gonna happen? That you’d find a boyfriend here? Huh? Prince fucking Charming? Someone who’d cuddle you? What? This is a fraternity, the brothers are men, normal men, not homos, like you. You better remember that!” He pointed his finger at him. He wasn’t particularly angry but he was definitely lecturing him.

“I… I know, Sir! I just meant…”

“I don’t give a shit what you meant!” he cut him off “You’re exactly where you should be, living your fucking fag dream and all and instead of being grateful and over the fucking moon, you fucking bitch about it?”

“N… no, Sir… you’re right!” Ben replied “I’m an idiot… I’m sorry… won’t happen again, Sir! Thank you for the opportunity, Sir!”

Master Dillon’s face curved into a new smirk.

“Good! That’s better! Now get the fuck out, bitch!”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Shit!” Zach Taylor mumbled. It was 6.05 and the boy was late, as per usual. He had a gig and was supposed to be at the venue in ten minutes which meant that he was probably going to get there about forty-five minutes late. The band was not going to be pleased. Not one bit. He entered the frat house in a hurry and ran upstairs. He felt hot and sticky and was pretty sure a nice cold shower would have helped but the thought of the lead singer shouting at him made him decide that it was probably not a good idea. He texted them using some random excuse but he knew that he was going to get lectured on the importance of being on time. Yet again. He grimaced and scratched his ass hard. It itched. He dashed into his predictably spotless room and threw his backpack to the ground. He had even forgotten about loading the car the previous evening. Well, that’s not entirely true. Or at all. He didn’t actually forget, he simply couldn’t be bothered at the time, as getting stoned had seemed way more appealing. So that was an extra 15 minutes, easy. And he had promised the band he was going to learn those two new songs they had been asked to play that night. “Fuck!” He cursed under his breath. He scratched his ass again as he opened the app. Number 12 was free and in the building, perfect. Zach clicked on it and in less than ten seconds slave Olly was rushing through the door and kneeling in front of him. Sweet.

“You got ten minutes to load up my car, bitch! You know what I need.” Zach said distractedly, while he was already googling the songs he was supposed to have studied.

“Yes, Sir!” the fag replied instantly. Zach didn’t even turn to look at him. He scratched his ass again. What the hell! That was fucking annoying. If only he could take a quick shower. Or maybe…

“Hey, hold up!” he said to the slave who had already started gathering the equipment “Took a huge dump like an hour ago and now my ass is all itchy…” he said pulling down his pants “Lick it.” he instructed and didn’t even wait for the usual reply. He tapped his earbuds and the song started to play. Sure enough, not three seconds went by till a wet tongue started washing his ass. It felt good. The itching stopped almost instantly. Maybe not as good as a shower but close enough. Besides, he strongly doubted his hands and a soapy sponge could have been nearly as thorough as fag Olly was, every single time. It was the number one champ at ass-licking, no matter what his report card said. It obviously loved it, it wasn’t hard to guess. All the fucking slobbering was way too enthusiastic to be fake. And that’s what made all the difference. It was like its tongue had been especially made for licking ass. His ass, more specifically. Well, all the nasty spots in his body really. Not that some of the others weren’t good but if 12 was free, Zach would always call on it. The way it spread his cheeks so its tongue could get up his hole was definitely a nice touch that some of the others didn’t have. It was so convenient having it handy literally 24/7. And if by any chance it wasn’t free, well Zach was gonna have to make do with one of the other faggots. The straight boy let the bitch work hard for a few minutes and when he was satisfied he reached back and gave it a couple of slaps to the head. One last very slow, very meticulous, very careful lick from bottom to top to lap up all the excessive spit and his pants and boxers came up again. Awesome, one problem solved. The boy sat on his bed and kept listening while he distractedly noticed the fag as he was back to gathering his equipment.

He managed to listen to both songs once and decided he was gonna wing it. Not that there was much else he could do at this point. He rolled himself a cigarette and walked downstairs to the car.

“Hey! Zach, right?” a tall first year said friendly when they bumped into each other at the bottom of the frat house entrance staircase. Shit, what was his name?

“Hey… uhm…” said the sophomore kinda stupidly.

“Scott. Remember? Last night…”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, bro! It’s just that I’m total shit with names, sorry!” Zach apologized. The other boy smiled.

“Oh, no problem, man!”

“So, did you settle in, yet?” Zach asked, blowing out smoke.

The younger boy shrugged and mumbled “I guess…” as fag Olly came running towards them, kneeled next to Zach and said:

“The car is loaded, Sir!”

It was panting but that didn’t stop it from bowing his head down and starting to lick his shoes.

“About fucking time, piggy!” said Zach but then realized that he might have said too much “Shit! Did Cameron, like, talk to you about… you know…”

“He did.” Scott replied, smirking slightly and Zach breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sick! Then you know ‘bout the fags!” he puffed.


“Awesome, huh?” said the bleached-blond guitar player, then he went “Ashtray.” At once the fag lifted his head up and opened his mouth so that Zach, with a flip of his finger, could deposit some well earned ash right on its tongue.

Scott raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I mean… I don’t know, man, this is all so fucking weird to me.” The first year ran a hand through his hair and frowned. “Why do they even fucking do this shit?”

Zach shrugged.

“Don’t know, don’t care! Cause they’re freaks, I guess!” The boy stated, then realized he had never actually asked himself that question “Hey, fag! Tell us why you do this shit.” he said scratching his cheek, genuinely curious now.

“Because I was born for this, Sir! All faggots are inferior, Sir and we were born to serve straight alphas, Sir! It’s the only thing we’re good for, Sir!” Fag Olly promptly responded.

“There you go!” Zach shrugged again to what in his opinion was a perfectly valid answer.

Scott snorted and shook his head, amused.

“Dude, don’t overthink it!” said Zach “Just fucking use ‘em! Trust me, life’s gonna get sooooo much easier!”

“Haha! Alright, fine!” Scott chuckled, “But, I mean, what are the rules?” the guy asked, still perplexed.

“Rules?” Zach frowned as he tapped his cigarette on the fag’s lips.

“Yeah, like, there must be some kinda… limitations, right? I mean…”

“Dude, dude! I don’t think you’re getting this at all!” Zach cut him off. “Bitch, tell Scott here what I just made you do!” speaking with his cigarette on his lips. The response was predictably super eager.

“Sir! You made me lick your ass clean because you said earlier you hadn’t wiped it well and it was itchy, Sir! Then you made me load up your car with all your music equipment because you didn’t feel like it, Sir!”

“Fucking gross!” grimaced Scott.

“And what do you say, bitch?” Zach continued.

“Thank you for the honor, Sir! Licking any part of your body is such a privilege, Sir! I feel so grateful, Sir!”

Zach smirked, gave one last puff and threw the cigarette bud into the slave’s mouth “Good answer, fag!” The slave swallowed immediately.

Scott snorted again.

“Dude, that is so fucked up! What did you do to these guys?” the boy asked.

It was Zach’s turn to snort.

“Man, you’re still thinking of them as people! That’s your problem! They’re not! They’re not guys!” The older boy replied, stretching and yawning loudly “They’re… like… what’s the word?”

“Property, Sir!” the fag prompted.

“Yeah! That’s right, they’re just property!” said Zach “Shit, I’m so fucking late!” he hurried to his car “But trust me dude, the second you start seeing them for what they are, you’re not gonna give two fucks about what you make them do cause it makes your life easier! And that’s what matters, period!” he said opening the car door “Life here’s pretty fuckin sweet, bro! You’ll see! Gotta go, sorry!” he said before turning on the engine and splitting.

Scott watched him drive out of the gate.

“Sir!” the fag was now kneeling in front of him, looking down.

“What?” Scott said.

“May I please be allowed to lick your shoes clean, Sir? I noticed they’re dirty.”

“Are they?” Scott mumbled checking them. They were indeed a little crummy. But then again they weren’t exactly new. Scott shrugged slightly “Go ahead, faggot!”

The slave immediately started to lick the dust off his old Vans. It was unreal. A human being was licking his fucking shoes. Scott realized he clearly did NOT dislike it one bit.

“Taste good?” The boy couldn’t help teasing him.

“Yes, Sir! Thank you so much for the honor, Sir!”

Scott shook his head even more amused.

“You’re very welcome, bitch! So, is this how you spend your whole day? Licking jocks’ shoes?”

“N… no, Sir!” the fag replied “This is just one of the many duties I have, Sir!”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, Sir! My day starts at 6 am, Sir! I have to clean the whole mansion together with the other slaves, then I start preparing breakfast for the masters, then when they wake up I serve as their human stool or their footrest or their entertainment and when they’re done using me I start cleaning their bedrooms and their bathr…”

“Ok, dude, why don’t we cut the bullshit?” he said looking down at the slave.

“Uhm… Sir?” the fag said confused.

“What do they have on you? Is this why you put up with it? Cause they have nasty shit on you?” he said in a very practical way.

“N… no, Sir…” the slave said without stopping.

“Don’t lie to me, faggot! I’m not the clueless pothead who just left!” Scott said with a little more cockiness and authority that he would have used in different circumstances.

“I’m… I’m not, Sir, I swear… I mean… that… might be how it all started but…” finally someone was starting to spill the beans.

“I knew it! So they ARE blackmailing you!” It was more of a statement than a question.

For the first time the fag looked up and with the kind of honesty and sincerity no one can fake said:

“No, Sir! The blackmail was something the Masters threatened us with at the beginning, in case we wanted to leave…” he explained “But then, during the taming, they explained to us what we are and… they made us see the truth… and we chose to be here…” he sounded like he had wanted to say those words out loud for a while “Everything is clear, now! You are gods and we are so far beneath you, that even licking the scum between your toes is an overwhelming honor, Sir! I know that now, Sir!” he hurried back down to resume his cleaning job.

He was slobbering on those sneakers like his life depended on it. Scott had listened to that pretty little speech and although he still wasn’t entirely buying the whole thing, he had a satisfied smirk on his very handsome face. That boy was literally acting like a subhuman servant and the more he licked those shoes the cleaner they got. Pretty fucking sweet. That’s what Zach had said and Scott had a feeling that pothead might have been right.

“So, I’m a god, huh!” Scott replied, extremely amused. Why not test the little bitch?

“Yes, Sir!”

“Well, then, if I were to ask you to lick the bottom of my shoes? What would you do, slave?”

“Yes, please, Sir! Let me do it!” the fag’s eyes lit up as he was looking up at him like a kid on Christmas day.

“Are you serious? That’s gotta be extra nasty!” He was sort of playing with the clearly compromised mind of that pathetic excuse for a creature.

“I know, Sir! Please, it would be such a privilege!”

Scott had no idea how that little fag bitch had turned out like this but he decided that he was ok with it. He smirked.

“Tell you what!” he said, still not lifting his foot “See, I have a small problem. I have two months to turn that proud homo I have for a roommate into a good little bitch like you. If you gimme a few tips I might even let you lick the bottom of both my shoes, how’s that sound?”

The fag was now dripping saliva over his worn out Vans.

“Oh, yes, Sir!! I’ll tell you everything you want, Sir!” His eyes were desperate to get approval “I’ll do anything for you, Sir! Anything!”

Scott smirked.

“That’s a good faggot!”

Andy Greenberg, or Number 1 as he very proudly went by in the fraternity, was experiencing some very troubling pain in his crotch area. It couldn’t make a sound of course, it was even careful to keep the loudness of its breathing in check. It was crouching down inside a hamper-closet, peeping out. That was one of its favorite spots. It was surrounded by its Master’s dirty clothes. Sweaty jerseys, jockstraps, socks, boxers and his divine, overwhelming body smell came at it from every angle. Moreover, what it had just witnessed was one of the many reasons why it was so grateful to be able to serve such a king among gods. Now it was looking at him panting and catching his breath while a very pretty girl lay spent beside him doing the same. They were completely naked, of course. That’s usually how it goes when you’re having sex. Not that Number 1 was an expert. Its last sexual experience had been about three and a half years before, with its then highschool boyfriend. That was before it had finally seen the light and officially become the property of the frat. It had even taken it a minute, which was not at all surprising. After all, it was a fag which meant its brain was subhuman, so calling it stupid was definitely being kind towards it. Whatever the case, the day of its awakening had finally come. That’s when its cockcage had been installed and its true life had started. A rewarding life of purpose that it still couldn’t believe he had been blessed with. It had only come five times since then. Its useless dicklet got hard all the time which hurt so bad because of the cage. In addition, it got blue balls on a daily basis. Even in its sleep, if it had a wet dream it would wake up to a gnawing pain. And that happened extremely often, considering the plethora of stimuli it was surrounded with. But it couldn’t cum. It was not allowed to, because it didn’t deserve it obviously. It only deserved the pain. And for that, it was so grateful. The ‘taming’ had been such a revealing path and Number 1 had been adamant with its teachings ever since the ceremony. It simply lived by them and followed them verbatim. And those five aforementioned times had been extremely unfortunate accidents. It had managed to orgasm despite the cage and the discomfort. It had told its Master, of course, and begged to be severely punished which it rightfully had been. Now its god, Cameron Davenport, on the other hand, was having sex with different girls every single day. That’s not just a figure of speech, Number 1 had been made to watch almost each one of those encounters and was keeping score. In a little over three years the 21-year-old stud had bedded 274 different chicks. The dumb floozy currently in his bed was number 275. And that’s not counting the numerous summer flings Number 1 couldn’t witness because, alas, it was apart from its Master. People dared question those numbers because they thought they were made up. But they weren’t. They were accurate and surely legendary even though Number 1 couldn’t really understand why people did not believe them. They were not just talking about a breathtakingly stunning god, like up-and-comer Master Justin for instance. This was Cameron, the king of all gods.

“Wow!” panted the stupid slut “That was incredible!” as she snuggled up to his ripped, sweaty body.

“Yeah, it was fine…” Master Cameron replied, rightly condescendent. He was beyond the concept of sexy.

“You didn’t like it?” she now sounded mortally offended. What a bothersome cunt.

“I didn’t say that, babe! But I’m glad to hear I was incredible. I get that a lot, hehe!” The godly boy replied now so smugly and Number 1’s dicklet started pulsing painfully. It had to suppress a moan.

“Why are you being such a jerk?” Did that annoying little bitch need someone to spell it out for her?

“I’m not, I’m just being honest!” The satisfied smirk on his handsome face was making Number 1 drool even more copiously.

“Can’t believe I slept with you!” she was now looking for her clothes, suddenly in such a hurry to leave. “My friend said you were a total player and I wouldn’t listen.” she said angrily.

“You should have. I probably fucked her too.” he was grinning so openly and blatantly. Number 1 was in serious pain now.

“Fuck you!” was the last thing she said as she stormed out the room, slamming the door behind her. Finally. Number 1 was chomping at the bit. He was salivating like crazy, waiting like a good little dog because he knew what was probably going to happen in the next few moments.

“How was the show, fag?”

That was its cue. It pushed the closet door open and crawled to the end of the bed. When it pressed its useless face on its master’s foot sole everything felt so perfect. His masculine musk made it all better.

“Sir! It was perfect, Sir! Thank you so much for making me watch while you do this.” he purred.

“It’s good for you to watch what you will never have, hehe!” the amused baritone of its god said and Andy moaned as he started licking his godly feet. The taste was salty and strong.

“Yesh, Shir!”

“Clean me up, I’m all fucking sticky.” Master Cameron said, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. Number 1 crawled quickly between its god’s legs and immediately started lapping the pussy juice and the sweat off his massive balls. This was the greatest honor he could have granted it. The spectacle in front of him was to die for. The godly boy had chestnut hair and piercing bright green eyes. His chest was smooth except for a tuft of sparse, thin hairs right between his perfectly developed pecs. His pubic hair was the exact same color as his hair and his genitals represented, simply put, flawlessness. As previously mentioned, his balls were prodigious and hung heavily in his hairless ballsack and his seven-incher was so thick and veiny. And right now the whole package was covered in a disgusting layer of shiny slime. That was just not right. It licked those balls like his life depended on it, while its master completely ignored it.

“I don’t give a shit if those fuckers called before us!” The god was sending a voice message “Just make sure we got the court for at least two hours.” The commanding tone in his voice was so charismatic that, not surprisingly, anyone would fall in line after his wishes. Number 1 knew it had to be quick so it soon moved to the shaft. It swiftly put it in its mouth till its lips touched his pubes and slowly sucked the used condom away together with his entire orgasm. His softening cock bounced down on the lower part of his washboard abs. Number 1 happily swallowed the rubber.

“Thank you for letting me do this, Sir.” it said, wholeheartedly.

“That’s all your good for, fag.” He replied distractedly, still looking at his phone. Then an amused little smirk appeared on his lips as he looked down and added “Do you remember what cumming feels like, slave?”

“Y… yes, Master…” Number 1 said while licking. Almost overwhelmed by the wave of gratitude that sneering glance had just caused.

“It’s so fucking good.” The boy said “I cum at least once or twice a day and it’s never enough. It’s the best fucking feeling in the world. There’s nothing like it. Not even close!” He mused cruelly. “And you’ll never be able to feel it again, hehe!” Teasing was a very effective way of teaching him and Number 1 appreciated it.

“No, Sir! I don’t deserve to feel it!” replied eagerly the slave.

“Damn right you don’t!” Agreed the god cheerfully, going back to his phone screen “And why is that?”

“Cause I’m a faggot, Sir! And the only reason I exist is to serve straight gods, like you, Sir! The only thing I get to feel is the pain, every time I watch you fuck, Sir!” he recited in utter adoration.

“Hehe! That’s right!” he replied “Does your little clit hurt right now?”

“Yes, Sir! So bad!” Number 1’s voice trembled which made Cameron chuckle.

“Haha! Good! That’s what you deserve, you sick homo!”

“Yes, Sir! I am so grateful to be able to serve you, Sir! Thank you so much for the pain you cause me, Sir!” it moaned.

“Hehe! You’re welcome, bitch!” he said, amused “Just remember that you’re nothing.”

“Yes, Sir!”

“That shit you’re licking is literally worth more than your stupid life.” he continued in his casual, conversational tone, still not looking at him.

“Yes, Sir! Thank you for making me your slave, Sir! And thank you for allowing me to serve you, Sir!” Number 1’s dicklet was about to explode but he kept licking increasingly hungry. There was a couple of minutes of silence. Number 1 couldn’t believe its luck. This was lasting a little more than usual which was incredible.

“Gotta piss.” its Master stated suddenly and Number 1 stuck his now limp dick down the back of its mouth. This happened several times a day but there was a time when the slave’s taste buds weren’t ready for this particular godly gift. It started swallowing piss by the gallon. Bitter mouthful after bitter mouthful. It loved looking up at him and realized how little he actually cared about its presence. So little in fact that not only he wasn’t even looking at him but he was so concentrated on the screen of his phone that his perfect face was slightly frowning. All of it felt so right. Number 1 once again appreciated how lucky he had been to be born for this. He was a god, after all. No, the king of the gods. Whereas Number 1 was nothing. Nothing.

Freddy’s head was pounding. Saying that he didn’t feel good about that whole situation would be a minor understatement. He was walking slowly back to his new accommodation. The ‘slave house’. It was unbelievable. Outrageous, actually. What if he left? He could have. No one was forcing him to tolerate any of that. They had repeated it countless times. That Andy guy. How could he just tell them all those things and not even give off a glimpse of sympathy? Freddy had misjudged him, clearly. And there was still that weird, fuzzy image he had in his head of him kneeling in front of Cameron and that other guy, Noah. Maybe those guys were gay or bi-curious or something and what he had actually witnessed was just a couple of horny boys getting blown. Which was totally cool. In fact if he was honest with himself he would have sucked off pretty much every single guy in that nuthouse, given the chance. They were uber hot and they knew it. Which, as much as he wanted to deny it, contributed to their charms. Yeah, but Cameron… gay? Yeah, right. Somehow spotting flying unicorns in a green sky sounded more likely. What a mess. His dad’s stern words still rang in his ears. He had just called him to tell him about the taming and everything. ‘They’re definitely gonna give you a hard time son, but I KNOW you’ll do great in the end! Don’t give up! Don’t ever give up!’ No. He didn’t want to leave. Freddy Toph was no quitter and he was definitely as stubborn as the proverbial mule. Not a chance in hell they were getting rid of him. He was NOT going to give those jocks the satisfaction. He was legacy, after all.

He walked into the entrance hall feeling slightly better. He was about to go upstairs to his room but he heard a couple of voices.

“You didn’t confirm the reservation!”

“Yes I did!”

“No, Blake, you reserved the court but you didn’t confirm it!”

“Same difference!”

“No, it’s n… aaaaahhhh, fuck! You’re such an idiot!”

The two boys came into view. He knew them both. One was the ridiculously good looking kid who had tutored Scott in his first lesson as a master, the night before. Justin, he thought his name was. The other one… Shit! It was the ape. The one who had dragged him to the pack by brute force, to be publicly humiliated.

“Whatever, so what do we do now?” Blake, the super tall, super ripped guy with black hair asked, a little annoyed. Freddy tried his hardest to make himself invisible.

“I’mma call Cliff or TJ and see if they can talk to those guys and…” Justin started to say but he got cut off.

“Do you have a fucking death wish, slave?” Freddy saw Blake march towards him and grab him by the hair as Justin rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration.

“Oh, man…”

In a matter of seconds Freddy found himself doubling over in pain as he fell on the ground, groaning. He had been punched right in the stomach for the very first time in his life. An experience he would have happily done without. It took a moment for him to be able to breathe again.

“What did we teach you last night, slave?” Blake’s sneaker was pressing the side of his face to the ground. The gay boy’s heart was galloping, more over sheer terror than actual pain. He coughed a couple of times.

“I… I’m sorry… I…”

“I asked you a question, slave! What did we teach you last night?!” the tall jock repeated more aggressively. Freddy looked around for help but the only other person there was Justin and he wasn’t even looking at the scene. He was texting furiously and ignoring his pleading eyes completely.

“I… I… don’t know… I’m… I’m sorry…” Freddy really couldn’t understand what he had possibly done wrong

“Are you really as dumb as you look?!” Blake shouted “How do you fucking greet a brother?” Now that jogged his memory.

“Y… yes… sorry! I forgot! I… I’m supposed to kiss your feet…” Freddy managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Then why the fuck didn’t you, slave?” Blake pressed his face down harder. Freddy’s anger was surging.

“I… I’m… sorry…” What the fuck did this ape want him to say? The pressure on his head increased as the guy had climbed onto his chest with his other foot. He felt completely powerless.

“I don’t fucking care if you’re sorry! This time, I’m gonna teach you a lesson you’ll never forget! You’re a slave, you remember that much, right?” he was being so… Well, the word is probably ‘mean’, really, that he almost sounded like some kind of villain from a bad movie.

“Ok, sure! Thanks! See you in a minute!” Justin hung up “Dude, we gotta go! TJ says he convinced them to bail but we gotta get there like NOW!” he walked to them and his red sneaker stopped right in front of Freddy’s face.

“We’ll go when I’m done with this lil’ bitch!” Blake pressed his face down even harder. Freddy’s moans made him snicker.

“We’ll text the new guy in the car, he’s the one who’s supposed to be training this slave. C’mon, man, let’s go!”

“Don’t fucking rush me! I said we’ll go when I’m done and while we’re at it I’m sick of you treating me like you’re my upperclassman or something, man! You’re not! We’re in the same year, you can’t tell me what to do, you should…”

Freddy was listening to their stupid bickering, crushed by approximately two hundred pounds of muscles while staring at a pair of scarlet running shoes. Surreal, didn’t even begin to describe that situation.

“Oh, I’m sorry, ‘Same Year’!” replied Justin with heavy sarcasm “Do you wanna call Cam and tell him YOU screwed up or should I?”

There was silence after that. Evidently the dumb ape and the pretty boy were having a staring contest to see who was manlier. Freddy felt disgusted and on top of that he was starting to have trouble breathing. Nevertheless he was trying real hard to make as little noise as possible cause contrary to popular belief he did NOT have a death wish. Finally Justin groaned in frustration.

“C’mon, dude, I’m just trying to cover your ass here! Help me out!”

A few more seconds went by, then Blake grumbled “Fine.” and walked off Freddy’s body “Let’s go!” and in a jiff he was out the front door.

Justin’s eyes met Freddy’s. The handsome jock was shaking his head disapprovingly.

“You have no idea how lucky you just got! Better get your shit together!” and he walked away.

Freddy sat up. He was livid. He couldn’t even speak, he was so mad. It was one of his rage attacks. He impulsively punched the floor. And again. And again. Then waited. His hand hurt now. Very, very slowly, the wave of anger subsided. He wasn’t feeling better but he was calmer. He got to his feet, took a deep breath and walked upstairs.

When he entered the room he was sharing with Scott, he found him on his bed, looking amused at the screen of his phone.

“Hey! If it isn’t my personal slave!” Freddy was greeted by that same handsome yet annoying smirk “How was your day?”

Freddy glared at him with murderous intent.

“Oh, it was great, thank you! How ‘bout yours?” the gay boy’s words were filled to the brim with unconcealed venom. The jock snickered.

“Pretty awesome, I gotta say.”

“Great…” mumbled Freddy.

“Nice job moving all my stuff here, hehe!” Scott’s smirk widened “Had fun?”

Why did he have to be so annoying?

“Yeah, soooo much fun!” he continued with the heavy sarcasm “Oh and you’re welcome, by the way!”

The handsome football player frowned slightly.

“Mmm, I don’t think I’m supposed to thank you when you do what I tell you. It’s not part of the ‘Taming’, I’m afraid.”

Freddy considered jumping on that bed and… and… do something. Punch him, kick him… anything. But of course he realized that would have been beyond stupid. First of all, it was counter productive: Freddy was supposed to be playing the submissive part here if he wanted to get some points. And then there was the fact that physically, Freddy was a… Well, let’s go with ‘lightweight’, and that’s being generous. Scott on the other hand was mother nature’s finest job.

“Whatever…” Freddy said but he didn’t sound arrogant. He was tired of everything to be honest. Even being angry felt exhausting.

“C’mon, enough with the sour puss!” Scott rolled his eyes and got up from the bed. “Here, I got you something.” He opened the minibar and took two cans of soda. He threw the orange one to Freddy.

“What is it?”

“It’s the frat’s own brand!” explained the boy and sure enough the Frat’s logo was printed on the cold tin can. It was the same as the app icon. The three Greek letters were surrounded by a rectangular meander. Over the letters was the sketch of a triumphant fist whereas underneath there were the shapes of three men. The first one standing, the second one kneeling with his arms up in the air and the third one still kneeling but with his head bowing down, looking completely defeated. Freddy couldn’t, or wouldn’t, linger on the meaning of that. Instead he asked.

“Why is yours blue?” asked the always observant Freddy. Nothing escaped him. He watched his handsome roommate open his drink.

“Same reason my bracelet is, I guess, slave! Hehe!” he snickered and started chugging down.

Freddy bit his tongue and copied him. A fresh drink was probably what he needed anyway. It was sweet, and very fizzy. And as he was downing it and could feel his whole body cool down, he couldn’t help noticing that was the first time Scott Ackerman, mister Jockety Jock, had been even remotely thoughtful towards him.

“Thanks…” he murmured.

“Sure!” Scott smiled “So, you heard about the app?”

Freddy snorted.

“Yeah! How crazy is that?” He avidly drank some more.

“I don’t know, man. I think it’s pretty cool.” shrugged Scott.

“Cool?” Freddy sounded less outraged than he would have liked. He swallowed a few more mouthfuls of the nice, cold drink.

“Totally! It’s super organized. They really thought of everything.”

“Yeah, but did they tell you about all those recordings that I’m supposed to listen to?” Freddy realized he was nagging. He drank some more “I mean… I listened to one of them after lunch… it’s… crazy… and… so… homophobic…” he said, then looked at the gorgeous boy in front of him “But then again, so are you…”

“I told you I’m not homophobic.” Scott said with a cunning little smirk.

“Whatever… anti-homo then!” Freddy realized he was half joking which meant he was probably feeling a little more relaxed than before.

“Hehe! Good one!” Scott chuckled “Look! I don’t hate you if that’s what you’re asking. I’m just following the rules!” Then he added, matter-of-factly “Which brings me to…” he pointed at Freddy “This little homo here needs to start his training…” he sat on his bed again “C’mon! Over here, slave!”

Freddy walked to him almost automatically. He realized Scott had just called him a homo but he let it slide. Just that once.

“On your knees.”

He obeyed almost meekly.

“You know what comes next, right?” Scott smirked from up there.

“Yes…” Freddy said ruefully and leaned down. He kissed the top of both his shoes once again. They looked cleaner than they had before.

“Alright, so our first training session is… drumroll…” the straight boy joked as he fumbled through his phone “Oh, sick! Foot-worship!” he said cheerfully.

“Oh, man! What’s with the foot fetish in this place?” complained Freddy.

“Hehe! Alright, let’s see…” Scott was still reading from the app apparently “So I’m gonna lie down while you’re supposed to take my shoes and my socks off, press your face to my feet and sniff, sniff, sniff for an hour. God that’s gotta be fucking gross!” he commented, amused.

“An hour?” Freddy sounded more and more like a little boy who keeps complaining but knows he’s gonna do what he’s told eventually.

“Yes and no smooching! Got it?” smirked Scott.

“Why would I ever…” replied Freddy but got cut off.

“AND you’ll be listening to an hour worth of your ‘educational’ thingy, hehe!” Scott handed him a pair of earbuds.

Freddy groaned but took them. He put them on then started taking off the jock’s Vans.

“Can’t wait to do it, huh? Hehe!” joked Scott.

“The sooner we start, the sooner I’m done!” replied Freddy flatly. His feet were so warm and moist. It was to be expected. The climate in Florida truly was a bitch.

“That’s the spirit, slave!” his second shoe came off and Freddy proceeded to take off his damp socks. He could smell it already. That strong, masculine musk. So potent and nasty. Yet, Freddy found himself being weirdly not repelled by it.

“What are you going to do?” he asked quietly.

“While you worship my feet?” again with those infuriating digs.


“Gotta catch up on ‘Peaky Blinders’!” he said as he moved back and settled into what looked like an extremely comfortable position. Loads of cushions behind his back, bare legs crossed at the ankle, one arm back behind his head and the remote to their 65 inch screen TV in the other hand. God he was drop dead gorgeous. “Alright, let’s go with… “ Scott said as the sound of Netflix opening filled the room. He was on the app again “What month’s your birthday, slave?” he asked.

“July…” he replied, now strangely transfixed by those long, perfect toes wiggling right in front of him.

“July, 2004. There, we got five recordings. Let’s start with the first one. Happy sniffing!” he snickered and immediately the cocky voice of an entitled young man started speaking directly to his soul.

That stupid, unaware, fag had started sniffing his feet the second Scott had told him to. Unbelievable. How could a human being humiliate himself so bad? It was saying a lot about the truth of his frat brothers’ words. Faggots are simply inferior. It’s not a matter of agreeing or not. This right there was proof. Sure, the drink had helped make the sissy more compliant. That was one of the slick little tricks that other faggot had told him about so that he could have the priviledge to lick the bottom of his fucking shoes. Scott snorted thinking about it. He had even thanked him profusely with that pasty look that oozed reverence and veneration. Disgusting. But there was no amount of drugs that would have made him do any of that revolting shit. No matter what. That was not up for debate. So that was all him and his queer perversions. The straight boy also knew that he wouldn’t have drugged anyone in different circumstances but this fag definitely needed to understand that he actually liked being a slave because young Scott now definitely wanted one. And what Scott wanted, he got. Bottom line, that was a nice way to teach him. Scott smirked. He almost couldn’t wait for the hour to be over so he could break it to the fag. ‘Hey bitch, this is just the first part of the training. Next step is toe kissing! Surprise!’ Did he really think he could get away with disrespecting one of the juniors? That was dumb even for a fag but no matter. The idiot wasn’t gonna call it quits. He was gonna stay. That much Scott was sure about. Way too eager for daddy’s approval to let him down which was perfect. Scott was gonna take his time fucking him up. He couldn’t help smirking. He had a couple of more extremely funny secrets to educate the fag with. But there was time. And his conscience was totally clear. After all, he was doing him a favor in the long run. Somehow that made him chuckle to himself. College life truly was sick.

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