I've not put my reading cap on in over a week, but am super hyped about getting back into this epic!
Part 7 did not disappoint. The ending - with the busty ladies discretely exiting the Boom Boom room and then Mason's reaction upon realising that the hand pumping his shaft is a man's hand - was brilliant!
I also smirked quite a bit at Hoss' snide remark to Scott
The image of him ploughing into Chelsea and causing her to scream for her mama is insanely arousing.
Really enjoyed that scene.
Now moving on to this latest one!
I'll ditto what others have said in that this was such a great conversation between the two. But I really like how all the pledgemasters are so kind and understanding, and the fraternity itself. I've always liked the idea of being tied up by frat guys but I've also always been put off by fraternities with what happens in the news. But bondage aside, I really like TUG because I can see the sense of brotherhood and community. Yes they'll be tough and put the pledges through the works but it's not about humiliation, it's about strengthening one another.
Anyways, awesome job and I'm excited to see how everyone's stories unfold!
[mention]wataru14[/mention] I had to read this last chapter a few times to fully and completely appreciate it.
There's just so much to say.
For starters, the description of Mason slowly working up his confidence to follow Danny's lead and strut around naked was both vivid and brilliant.
Danny's conversation with the cuffed twink was equally brilliant in its depth and complexity.
He touched on so many things; from his past to the reasons for wanting to change his physical appearance and shed his self-inflicted inhibitions.
I'm so glad he chose Mason as his baby-bro.
The two of them are a match made in heaven and I'm certain that no other big brother would be suited to help pledge-Mason as much as Danny.
They have a lot in common, even though their personalities contrast.
P.s- I had quite a few laughs this chapter.
Lots of word-plays, and quirky dialogue.
The line about Shane being a beauty pageant reject had me cracking up like crazy
Man, I love these guys.
Danny is one of my favourite characters now.
It was a pretty good party so far, all things considered. Leo hadn’t had much time to enjoy it, himself, but what he saw was pretty solid. Had he the free time to do so, Leo would have been subtly causing chaos and keeping people on their toes. Spiking the punch with vinegar, pantsing people when their backs were turned, the usual juvenile party tricks that always seemed to get a rise out of people. Leo excelled at that. But he had bigger things to worry about right now. He had a secret mission.
Leo’s bid letter was different from the others. It contained the usual flowery prose and bullshit, but the inclusion of a special handwritten note intrigued him. After he managed to untether himself from Founder’s Statue a week ago and read his invite, he had been tingling with anticipation. The note was short and simple, and explained the rules of a little secret game that would be going on under the surface. A game involving a false Pledge and the accompanying rewards… and punishments. How could he refuse something like that?
When he arrived at the party, Leo turned on the charm and mingled, but not too much. He wanted people to know he was there, but not become such a presence that people would notice his frequent disappearances. It was a delicate balance. The business with Ray and Cody had thrown a slight wrench into his plans, but that needed immediate defusing. His hunt could wait a few minutes… he hoped.
Whenever he could, Leo would make frequent trips into the house, but there wasn’t much information to gather inside. A small group had gathered in the living room, blocking surreptitious access to the stairs, and everything on the first floor seemed ordinary. Relatively ordinary, that is. The display cases strewn about the house were slightly eye-opening, but not what he was looking for. The goal must be upstairs, he thought. But getting up there would be difficult. From outside, he could see that there were three floors to the house. He knew he needed to get to the third. But how?
As the night went on, Leo was happy to see that the Seniors started slowly disappearing, one by one. Along with about half the Prospects. Mason and Cody’s departures had been rather public, but Ray and Nate were more subtle. It was only when Leo noticed he hadn’t seen them in a while that he realized they were even gone. As for the Seniors, only Brett remained. He and the faculty advisor were attached at the hip and had been ever since they came out of the house an hour ago. Right now they were sitting in patio chairs and schmoozing with guests, but Brett was always shooting Leo clumsily hidden looks. The faculty advisor noticed these, too, and scolded him over it.
It was getting late now and Leo hadn’t made too much progress in his mission. It was time to change tactics. If he was going to get upstairs, he needed a distraction. Preferably one that would get people out of the living room. Hmmmm. What to do? Hoss, the big galoot enforcer, had been MIA for a while now, so he had a little wiggle room. Apparently Leo’s reputation preceded him and the big man had been tailing him since he arrived. On the lookout for mischief. It was damn inconvenient. He was right to be concerned, of course, but that didn’t make it any better. He didn’t want to resort to his usual tricks of property damage. He had developed an affection for this place and didn’t want to ruin anything. Heh. He was getting soft.
As he strolled through the kitchen on his way back outside, Leo saw the opportunity he needed. The latest batch of Juice was done and one of the two Sophomore brewmasters had just stepped out the back door to refill the punch bowl, leaving his partner alone. Jean-Marc was his name. Laid-back. Perpetually buzzed. Not very observant. Perfect! Leo sauntered over before the skater punk could head outside and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Yo, brah,” he said. “I’m looking to score a nickel bag. You look like a man with a stash. Any way you can help a homie out?”
Jean-Marc turned to look at Leo. What kind of intro was that? That’s narc talk. But once Jean-Marc saw who he was talking to he turned the edge off. This kid was no narc. He had a record. Troublemaker with a capital T-R-O. He folded his arms and frowned. “I might,” he said. “But I’m not going to comp you because you’re a Prospect. You got cash?” Leo took a few folded $20s out of his pocket. “I see that you do. OK, bro. Come with me. I’ll hook you up.”
Bingo! Leo had his way upstairs! Right on cue, Jean-Marc put his arm over Leo’s shoulder and led him into the house. When the pair approached the stairs, the group in the living room turned as one to look. Leo tensed up, half expecting someone to tell him to wait down here, but he relaxed when the group went back to their conversation. It was apparently OK to go up with a Brother. Now unobstructed, Leo and Jean-Marc headed up to the second floor.
Jean-Marc’s room was exactly what Leo envisioned. It looked like a laundry hamper exploded and smelled like a bong that hadn’t been cleaned in months. Black light posters covered the walls, but weren’t hanging straight, and the garbage was overflowing with snack wrappers. It was an absolute assault on all five senses. Leo’s host indicated for him to wait by the door while he sat in his desk chair and opened the lower drawer. He took out a wooden box and began to fiddle with the contents. “Got a couple in here,” Jean-Marc said. “Gimme a sec.”
That’s it. It was now or never. While Jean-Marc’s attention was diverted, Leo struck. He lunged forward and pushed the upperclassman face-down on the desk. If it was anyone else, Leo wouldn’t have had the mass to hold him down. But Leo had the element of surprise and Jean-Marc was the scrawniest of the TUG Brothers, so he could tenuously manage. While he used his body weight to keep Jean-Marc pinned against the desk, Leo fished a pair of heavy-duty cable ties, pilfered from a display case earlier in the evening, out of the inner pocket of his leather jacket.
“What the fuck, man?” Jean-Marc shouted. “You trying to rob me?” He flailed his arms backwards, trying to swat Leo away, but the precocious hellion on his back was too nimble. Leo caught one of Jean-Marc’s hands and slipped the cable tie on, instantly cinching it tightly closed.
“Nothing like that,” Leo said, desperately grabbing at Jean-Marc’s other arm. “I’m not interested in your stash, or your money. I have a bigger prize in mind.”
“Holy shit!” Jean-Marc realized. “You’re the spy!” The upperclassman’s moment of revelation was just the opening Leo needed. Taking advantage of his quarry’s stunned state, Leo managed to snag the remaining free arm and in a flash Jean-Marc was securely restrained in police-grade cable ties.
“Don’t try to bust out,” Leo said. “Those don’t budge. I’ve been in them enough times thanks to the Boys in Blue to know that.” Leo pulled Jean-Marc up from the desk and whirled him around, tossing him face-first on the bed. The two were an even match in terms of strength, but bound as he was, Jean-Marc couldn’t fight Leo off. But still, he wasn’t going down easy.
“Help!” he screamed. “SPYYYYYY!” Leo immediately clapped his hand over Jean-Marc’s mouth as he dove onto the small of his back and pinned him down.
“Shut the hell up, dude!” Leo scolded. “Can’t have you calling in the cavalry or everything I’m trying to do is royally fucked!” Quickly scanning the floor, Leo grabbed two pungent ankle socks from the side of the bed and stuffed them into Jean-Marc’s mouth. The slacker winced and choked as the ammonia smell of unwashed hosiery invaded his lungs. Leo took advantage of his prisoner’s retching to grab a crumpled bandana from the clothing pile on the floor, already appropriately folded into a strip for wearing around the wrist, and secured the noxious gag in place. Knocked for a loop by his own rancid foot odor, Jean-Marc was in no position to resist any further as Leo locked another pair of cable ties around his ankles.
With his catch fully restrained and squirming on the bed, Leo felt confident enough to hop off and dust himself off. “Whew!” he said, smoothing the creases out of his leather jacket sleeves. “That was quite a workout. Sorry about the sneak attack, homie, but I need you out of the way for a little bit. Nothing personal. You’re a pretty chill dude. I’m sure we’ll be best buds when this is all over.”
Jean-Marc screamed and cursed through his stinky sockgag, but all that came out was “mmmggppppghh!!!”
“What was that?” Leo teased, holding his hand up to his ear. “I can’t quite make it out through that nasty gag. Mustn’t have been too important. And don’t blame me for the stench. That’s all you. Maybe you should do laundry once in a while. Or is that the Pledges’ job? Anyway, it’s time for me to vamoose. Bigger fish to fry and all that. You just sit tight and someone will be along to let you loose in a jiffy. Oh, and thanks for the ticket upstairs. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Jean-Marc screamed again as Leo slipped into the hall and shut the door, but there was no one around to hear.
Leo let the adrenaline surge from his battle with Jean-Marc slowly subside as he crept back towards the stairs. There was no one else on this floor, but he had to be careful no one downstairs noticed him as he slipped onto the landing and headed up. He held his breath, but made it unmolested. “Natural 20 Stealth check!” he thought with a smile as he reached the upper floor. The door to the Boom Boom Room was wide open, but he passed it by. That wasn’t what he was after. His goal was at the far end of the hall: the President’s Office.
Making no sound, Leo advanced towards the slightly opened doorway. The room was pitch black, but the illumination from a tiny flashlight couldn’t be missed. It was being held in the teeth of a shadowy figure who was rifling through drawers with both hands. “Got you now, fucker!” Leo thought. He slipped into the room, making no sound, and crept – step by agonizing step – towards the would-be burglar.
Leo had noticed his target in the crowd shortly after arriving. The spy was mingling well, but Leo spotted him right away. They had met before. Well, not MET exactly, but Leo had definitely noticed his face. A week ago, when he was the temporary prisoner of DIX, Leo remembered the crowd that had gathered to watch his humiliation. And this clown was there. Cheering on his captors. And why wouldn’t he? The nose, the jawline, even the shape of the ears. No mistake. This guy was a younger, smaller version of Mountain 2.
“DIX sent the brother of one of their leaders as a spy?” Leo mused as he approached unnoticed. “Did they think no one would notice? What a bunch of meatheads!” Although, Leo thought, he HAD made it pretty far without anyone catching on. Were the brothers around here really that dense or was something else going on? “No time to ponder that right now,” Leo thought. He reached into his sleeve and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulled out the bracelet of a pair of handcuffs. The other bracelet was already locked around his own wrist. He had to be careful to keep the chain from making its telltale rattle and alerting his prey before he could strike. Carefully… carefully…
Leo was inches behind the spy now. Still unnoticed. If the lights were on, his shadow would have given him away, but under cover of darkness, he was like a fucking wraith. Adjusting his grip on the cuffs, Leo raised his arm and with a rapid sweep, brought it down over the spy’s wrist.
“Gotcha, you fucker!” Leo cried as the single strand flipped over the spy’s wrist and into the notch on the double strand. Not wasting a second, Leo reached down and tightened it. Savoring each ratcheting clink as the cuffs locked into place. The two were now tethered together. No way this goon could escape without dragging him along. And how would explain THAT situation to the group downstairs?
“What the…?” the spy shouted, dropping his flashlight. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed the bracelet of the handcuffs, but it was closed too securely. He couldn’t slip out. Whoever it was that jumped him in the dark, they were cuffed together. Realizing he had been found out, the spy grabbed at Leo, trying to force him down to the floor so he could find a key and escape.
Leo wasn’t much of a fighter, and the spy (while not as buff as his brother) far outclassed him in strength. But Leo had the advantage of speed and darkness. He kept sidestepping and dodging, always a hair out of reach. But he couldn’t keep this up forever. He couldn’t force the spy out of the room, but he had to alert people to what was going on. He got an idea.
“What’s the matter, DIX asshole?” Leo taunted, dancing around to maneuver the pair into a favorable position. “Didn’t expect to be caught? Well I caught you! Big tough man outsmarted by a little worm like me. Must eat you up inside! Your big bro’s gonna kick your ass for this!”
The spy growled and lunged, throwing a haymaker punch that would have knocked Leo into next week if it connected. But luckily it didn’t. Instead, it collided with a Greek Week 2019 trophy on the sideboard and sent it careening into the window. The pane shattered from the impact and the trophy flew out, raining shards of glass onto the empty patch of lawn that was formerly the Drunk Curling stand. A cry of shock and anger rose up from the partygoers outside and several Brothers jumped to their feet.
“Dumbass!” Leo taunted. “They’ll be up here in a second and then you’re majorly fucked!”
The spy froze in terror and scant seconds later, the door flew open. Several very angry TUG Brothers stood in the threshold. “Glad you’re here,” Leo began. “As you see, I…”
“HE’S THE SPY!” Leo’s captive shouted. Now this was unexpected! DIX brothers were not known for their cleverness and Leo didn’t expect this one to be so quick-thinking. He was almost impressed.
“No I’m not!” Leo protested. “HE is! I’ve been tailing him all night!”
“He’s lying!” the spy said. And then there was chaos as the two began shoving each other and hurling accusations. The brothers in the doorway stood dumbfounded, unsure of who to believe. They murmured to themselves and were only stirred when the unmistakable form of Hoss barreled into the room. Everyone started trying to explain what was happening, but Hoss silenced them all by bellowing “Would someone grab those two assholes so we can figure out what the HELL is going on here?” Omar and Jaquan stepped out of the crowd and each grabbed one of the two cuffed Freshmen by their free arms.
Both tried to accuse the other of espionage, but Hoss wasn’t hearing it. He wasn’t smart enough to discern who was lying and who wasn’t. He secretly wished Shane was here, but fought that idea down. “OK,” he said, silencing everyone with a wave of his hand. “The way I see it, one of these two is the spy. Or maybe they’re working together. We accuse one and the other gets away. No way to tell. The only thing I can think of is to assume they’re BOTH spies and punish them both!” A cry of agreement erupted from the assembled brothers. The spy punishment was always a favorite capoff to the evening, and the Brothers didn’t seem to care who was getting the treatment, just as long as SOMEONE was.
Leo was nearly pissing himself with fear and disappointment. There goes his bid. He knew he was a longshot to get tagged, and he figured that catching the spy singlehandedly would turn the tides in his favor. He suspected the faculty advisor knew it, too, and that’s why the extra note was included in his invitation. He was so close! One slight miscalculation on the resourcefulness of his quarry and his whole plan had been crushed. And if what happened to Trey was any indication of what was awaiting him, he was dreading the rest of the night even more. Leo was too dazed to resist as strong hands shoved him past Hoss and out the door into the hall. A chant of “Caught the Spy” was taken up by the Brothers as the pair was herded towards the stairs. But suddenly everything came to a stop as two figures appeared on the landing: Brett and the faculty advisor.
“Congratulations!” the professor said. “You’ve successfully caught the spy! And a spare, as it seems. Looks like you have two captives. The spy is working alone. But which one is it? Punishing an innocent Pledge would be a major faux pas. Especially since both of them are assigned to your President. He might take that personally. Quite the sticky wicket, isn’t it?” He grinned. Leo felt a glimmer of hope, but also tinge of something sinister, far beneath the surface.
Brett walked over and took center stage. “It looks like both of my Prospects are involved in breaking into my office,” he said. His words echoed through the halls. No one dared speak. The sheer command and presence radiating from him forced everyone into silence. This was a stark contrast to the friendly chap Leo had observed outside. It was the same tone Leo had seen on the hill a week ago. Looks like Brett could switch it on and off and take command at will. Leo could see why he was president. He wanted to say something, but all it took was a side-eyed glance from Brett to cow him into silence. “But only one is the spy. Hmmm. Which one is it?”
He paced back and forth in front of the two captured Freshmen ominously while he decided their fate. No one dared question his taking control of the situation and no one dared move a millimeter. They were paralyzed by Brett’s aura of command. “Is this guy a Dark Paladin or something?” Leo thought, shocked that all his cheek and rebelliousness had suddenly abandoned him.
“Is it the disrespectful little shit with a criminal record who’s been slinking around my party like some kind of ghost? Mad sus, brah.” Leo looked down at the floor at Brett’s accusing tone. He tried to speak but the words were intimidated off his lips. This wasn’t good. “Or is it the three-time All-Star quarterback who’s been impressing me all night? Not a hard decision, really.” This was REALLY not good.
Brett looked over at the faculty advisor, who stood in rapt expectation. A sneer developed on his lips. Leo was fascinated by the professor. He was pulling all the strings here and no one seemed to notice but him. This was not a man to be taken lightly. There was something… off about him. Something that Leo found himself mesmerized by. Brett took his handcuff key out of his jeans pocket and walked over to the restrained pair. “Which one do I release and which one gets punished?”
Leo closed his eyes. That was it. He was screwed. No way he was getting out of this one. He was ready for what was to come, but he was cursing himself internally that he was bested by a moron from DIX. He’d never forgive himself for that. He braced for the worst, and was taken completely off guard when the cuff was released from his wrist. He opened his eyes in shock as Brett looked to the faculty advisor for approval.
The advisor was in hog heaven. All eyes now on him, he let the tension build, savoring every moment of the exquisite torture. Finally, when everything was about to pop, the advisor said, “You are… correct. Leo here is a true Pledge and this other one is indeed the spy. Congratulations!” Everyone cheered. Well, not everyone. The actual spy tried to sidestep and bolt, but ran directly into Hoss, who smashed him against the wall and used the now-empty cuff hanging from his left wrist to restrain his captive like a felon. “That guy’s gonna make a great Sheriff when he graduates,” Leo thought.
“Nice try, asshole,” Hoss taunted, ruffling this captive’s hair menacingly. He turned to Brett. “Nice catch, boss man. Whatcha gonna do with the prize money?”
“Me?” Brett said, the alpha aura melting away and his usual affable self returning. “Nothing. Because it’s not mine. I didn’t catch the spy. Leo here did. The prize is his.”
“Huh?” Hoss said as Leo’s face lit up. “Can a Pledge win the prize?”
“Nothing in the rules says he can’t,” Brett said. “The bylaws state ‘whoever correctly identifies and captures the spy.’ And Leo did just that.” Brett patted Leo on the shoulder. “I know reading’s not your strong suit, Hoss, but maybe Nate can film a Sesame Street skit that explains it to you. Maybe with Muppets. That's about your speed.” The crowd laughed at the jibe, and even Hoss cracked a small smile.
Leo was floored. “Wow!” he said. “Thanks! And since this guy was my competition, that means I automatically get the bid, right? One of us has to.” Rules weren’t so bad, Leo thought, when you can twist them to your advantage.
“Heh. A Rules Lawyer, eh? A man after my own heart. Well, there will be enough time for that later,” Brett said. “Right now we have a punishment to administer.” Hoss grabbed the struggling spy even tighter as a cheer erupted from the gathered Brothers. “Omar, please take Leo to my office and make him comfortable. He and I have a lot to discuss after this is done.”
“Huh?” Leo protested. “Hey, wait a minute. I caught him, I should get to…” But he got no further as the muscular Junior walked over and grabbed him by the upper arms, leading him back into Brett’s office. He switched the light on as the raucous crowd dragged the begging and sniveling spy off to meet his doom. Leo stood aghast at what he saw.
Facing the desk, across the ornate table from Brett’s presidential chair, was a heavy wooden furnishing with thick arms. He couldn’t see it in the dark during the battle, but he could certainly see it now! Attached to the arms and legs were thick and heavy leather buckles. Wide straps hung at the sides, fastened to the back of the chair and designed to stretch across a captive’s chest. Leo gulped.
Omar interrupted Leo’s awestruck staring with a sardonic pat on the shoulder. “OK, kid,” he teased. “Have a seat.”
Coming Soon: Bid Night Interlude 2 and Part 10: The Punishment and A Game of Thrones
Well, I'm not the biggest fan of "TROublemakers" like Leo, but it does seem like Brett is able to keep him in line. And I have to admit, it is cute that both of them are using D&D references. Something tells me that while Leo may have won the prize, he's not going to be able to escape the consequences of his actions...
Oh Leo you poor boy. You may have won the battle, but the war is far from finished. And it looks like the next battle has already begun without you realizing it. I cannot wait to find out how this next bit rolls out!
I'm extremely happy that Leo was not the spy after all. Part of me was very worried you'd pulled a bait and switch on us! And although I didn't initially choose this pairing, I think I'm going to like Brett and Leo together! I love that Brett is also a D&D nerd. I have a feeling he'll be able to teach Leo a few things to help him stay out of trouble, while still using his resourcefulness! I also can't wait for Leo to experience that chair, and for Brett and him to have their chat!
I'm extremely happy that Leo was not the spy after all.
I'm with [mention]gag1195[/mention]. Leo is too wily and honest to be a spy. He reminds me of the cool kids I knew in college who were too much of independent thinkers to be pegged as part of various groups. But I TUG may be the fraternity to focus that independence.
Who would've known that Leo's disgraceful qualities and antics would be turned into useful assets and virtues?
Man, I love this witty guy. I'm also greatly relieved he wasn't the spy and doubly happy to see his case being assigned to none other than Bossman-Brett himself! This is going to be such an awesome pairing!
Bloody fantastic chapter [mention]wataru14[/mention]
Every time I come back to this thread, it leaves me wanting more!
As soon as Omar removed Leo to the relative safety of the President’s Office, the throng of agitated Brothers and guests began to move as one. Hoss had the struggling spy in an inescapable grip and was perp walking him through the hall with an almost solemn reverence, the rest of the Brothers acting like an Honor Guard on either side. Brett was pleased that the proper formation seemed to come naturally to them. The structure and rituals were apparently sinking in. Running this place felt like herding cats sometimes, but Brett had been doing his damnedest to bring order out of chaos, and it looks like his efforts had finally been paying off. The group had a reputation for being rowdy, but it was downright sloppy for most of their history. It was only when their previous faculty advisor retired and their current one took over five years ago that the frat really began to shine.
Despite the swirling insanity of their daily goings-on, Tau Upsilon Gamma was Metro City University’s top frat. Won the Greek Games three years straight. Had the highest numbers in all the charity fundraisers. Threw the best keggers. Guys would kill to get a bid. Once you were in, your future was all set. Connections, networking, resources, you name it. And this stemmed back to the Chaotic Years, as well. Three out of the last five governors were TUG men and alumni were peppered in boardrooms all across the nation. Once you had the TUG letters on your shirt, doors tended to open for you. Competition was so fierce that only five men were selected to bid each year. Always Freshmen. They were a small frat, but their bonds were unbreakable.
All that success tended to make you enemies, and even though TUG was on openly good terms with the other fraternities (well, except DIX – but they were on bad terms with everyone, it seemed) there was a lot of jealousy under the surface. Which is why the spy game always had willing participants. Even though no one had ever gotten through, and the punishments were well-known, the other frats still tried. The lure of getting their hands on TUG’s secrets was too great. The faculty advisor chose one rival and invited them to play, and this year he chose DIX. “He must have had a lot of confidence in us,” Brett thought. “The fallout if they managed to succeed would be far worse than if it was any of the others.”
Brett admitted that he had no idea who the spy was, and that had been weighing on him all night. He knew who it WASN’T, of course. There was no way that Nate, Cody, Mason, and Ray were shady. They were just the kind of people TUG wanted: varied in personality and “type” and humanly flawed. Each had something to bring to the table and something that they needed TUG to help bring out in them. Their legitimacy practically glowed. So Brett wasn’t too concerned that he hadn’t identified the spy. Playing the odds, it was most likely one of their rivals. So there was an 80% chance things would work themselves out on their own. It was the other 20% that bothered him.
When it became clear that it was one of his Pledges, Brett got worried. Leo was an obvious culprit, but that is why he was less likely to get behind that option. Of course, the advisor could have been anticipating that and been trying for a double fake. That’s the kind of thing he would do. But Brett just had a good feeling about Leo. He saw a tremendous force for good behind that smarmy smile. He also saw a potential supervillain in the making, but that’s the kind of challenge that made it all worthwhile. If Leo could just be tamed, he could do big things. Brett unconsciously turned his Presidential Ring around on his finger once as he walked, pondering the possibilities.
When the group descended the landing and got to the second floor, they were greeted by a comedic sight. Jean-Marc had managed to extricate himself from the bed and had hopped into the hallway, mmppggghing like mad and writhing in his cable ties. The crowd chuckled at his state as Jean-Marc wriggled and grunted for release from his bonds. “There you are,” Brett teased. “I was wondering where you went. Considered giving you demerits for missing an emergency.” Jean-Marc howled in protest through his gag. The smell of the noxious socks filling the Sophomore’s jaws had begun to waft over towards Brett, who dissipated the odor by waving his hand. “Jesus H. Christ! Did something die in here?”
Brett let the crowd chuckle and Jean-Marc grunt angrily for a moment before continuing. “But I’m not going to do that since you were so obviously unable to make it on your own,” he said. “But you still let a Pledge get the drop on you. That’s not good. So we’re going to leave you like that for a while as a reminder of your failure.” Brett reached down and cut the cable ties holding Jean-Marc’s ankles together and chuckled as the defeated Sophomore took his place in the rank-and-file, his head down in embarrassment. “Although you did give me an idea,” Brett said. He whispered to Takeshi, who zipped into Jean-Marc’s bedroom and emerged with a handful of old socks. “We’ll get some good use out of these,” Brett said, holding his nose only partially for show.
As the reality of his situation began to sink in, the captured spy began to buck and fight, but Hoss’ iron grip made sure he wasn’t going to get away. And even if he could, he was surrounded by TUG Brothers in all directions. There was nowhere to run. He was completely trapped. He had a pretty good guess of what Brett’s comment meant and he was certainly not happy about the prospect of sucking on Jean-Marc’s rancid skate socks. But it wasn’t going to be up to him, now was it? He kept his eyes open for an escape opportunity as he was shoved along, realizing it wasn’t going to happen on the staircase. But as he was marched solemnly through the house, the phalanx formation around him remained firm. He had no out. Absolutely none. A quick wriggle in his handcuffs drove his helplessness home. All hope left him as the group exited the kitchen and made it to the dance floor outside.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Brett announced to the gathered crowd, showing off their captive like a redneck hunting trophy. “I thank you all for coming out tonight. You helped make this a Bid Night party for the record books. But, unfortunately, it’s time for everyone to go home. We have some ritual business to attend to and only the initiated are allowed to watch. Nothing terribly interesting.” Brett ruffled the spy’s hair mockingly, drawing a “Fuck you, asshole!” in response. “So everyone have a good night,” Brett concluded.
As the crowd started to get their things, Brett moved over to the four remaining prospects, who were watching with varied levels of interest and horror. “This is always the worst part,” he thought. “Gentlemen,” he said. “I thank all of you, too. But our decision has been made and the Pledge Class has been selected. I’m sorry, but we decided to go in another direction. But all of you are amazing people and the other fraternities are still in Rush period. We have several friendly groups that would love to have you. If you are interested, please see Pablo and he will set you up with another group that will be a better match.” The four were disappointed, but that didn’t stop each of them from going over to Pablo. He gave each one contact information for the Pledge Chair of one of the other fraternities, as well as a note that vouched for their caliber. Each one would assuredly get a bid somewhere else and be an asset to their Brotherhoods. They always did. And after seeing not only Trey, but the spy as well, more than one was quite happy to be getting out of Dodge altogether. TUG wasn’t for everyone, Brett thought.
Once the last of the crowd had finally departed, Brett looked over at the captive. He turned his ring two more times. Surrounded by the assembled Brotherhood of TUG, the spy was a sorry sight. He was decently muscular, well on the way to becoming a lunk like his brother, but still in the early stages. The more Brett looked at him, the more the bile rose in his mouth. Smarmy asshole. Who did he think he was to violate the sanctity of their House like this? The spy put on a front of false bravado, standing strong and cool, but Brett could see the panic beneath his facade. Looks like he wasn’t taking this seriously. Time to give him a wake-up call.
“You assholes have had your fun,” he said. “Now let me go. You do anything to me and my brother and his DIX boys will make you wish you were never born.”
A chuckle rippled through the assembled Brothers. “They always say the same thing every year,” Brett quipped. “And yet, here we are.” Brett strutted over and grabbed the spy’s chin, pinching his cheeks and holding his head steady. He leaned in, scant inches from his captive’s face. “You knew the risks when you took this assignment, buddy boy. I will admit you made it farther than most, and that’s on me, but now it’s time to pay the proverbial piper.”
While Hoss and Brandon held the spy steady and immobile, Brett reached into the prisoner’s pockets and fished out his wallet, phone, and other property. He quickly scanned the ID. “Travis,” he said, reading the name. “Well, Travis, any last words?”
Travis opened his mouth to scream obscenities. Or threats. Or pleas. Whichever road he was going to go down, the Brothers never knew. Because as soon as the captive Freshman’s mouth opened to speak, the putrid, stinking ball of Jean-Marc’s socks was immediately shoved behind his teeth by a pair of hands from just out of his field of vision. Travis groaned and mumbled with great force as heavy-duty duct tape was slapped over his mouth and wound around his head. Six or seven full revolutions, each tighter and firmer than the one underneath, were plastered down. Travis’ shouts were silenced and reduced to barely audible moans and his cheeks bulged under the tape.
Brett smoothed down the edges of the tape. It was a bold red color with the letters “T-U-Γ” emblazoned in a regularly repeating patter along its length in gold. A custom job for “special occasions” like this. “Pretty as a picture,” Brett mused. He lifted up the front of Travis’ shirt a bit, revealing a slight dusting of hair on his abs and chest. Under Armour. What kind of tool wears workout clothes to a mixer? That’s some Danny-level douchiness right there. Better relieve him of it. For his own good. “OK boys. Strip him!” Gavin and Bryan advanced on Travis, armed with heavy fabric shears and grinning evilly. Travis tried to squirm free and bolt, but Hoss’s impossibly strong grip, reinforced by Brandon and Jaquan, held him firm. There was no way to escape his fate. He watched with impotent fury as his jeans, shirt, and finally underwear, were cut off his body with a sickening “snikt snikt.” His shoes and socks were yanked off his feet, leaving him completely vulnerable and exposed. With his hands cuffed behind his back, Travis couldn’t even cover his nudity. His cock shriveled with shame and his skin took a humorous reddish tint.
“Aw, he’s embarrassed!” Gavin joked as he pulled away the shredded rags or Travis’ former clothing. “Can’t imagine why. DIX is a cesspool of assholes, but they do grow them quite pretty.” He bent down and give Travis’ nipple a playful lick, causing the captive to shiver. There were rumors around campus regarding the things that DIX did to their pledges. Things of a carnal nature. That crossed a line on many levels and was a big reason behind the two groups’ animosity. While “relations” between Actives and Pledges happened at TUG, it was always completely consensual. DIX blurred those lines by adding duress to the mix, and that was something that Brett couldn’t abide. So he saw no harm in giving this DIX stooge a little taste of his own medicine, but decided to put a halt to it before things got ugly. No need to stoop to DIX’s level.
“Now now, Gavin,” Brett scolded, but with a wry smile. “That’s against the rules. Let’s not get him TOO hot and bothered. He has a challenge to undertake.” Brett clapped Gavin on the shoulder encouragingly. “Sophomores, are you ready?” Brandon, Pablo, and Takeshi stood at attention, each holding an array of heavy-duty plastic cable ties. Trey and Jean-Marc were each released from their respective restraints and joined their classmates, eager to work out some of their own frustrations on their captive. Although Trey was still naked and locked in chastity, he didn’t seem to mind. He had more important things to worry about. Once all five were present, Brett gave the signal and the Sophomores attacked Travis as one entity.
The Binding of the Spy was one of TUG’s endless rituals and there were forms to be obeyed. As Ray saw, there were three layers to the bondage, but in the real version, each class was responsible for one layer. Sophomores went first with their cable ties. As Travis futilely bucked and thrashed in his captors’ grips, his body began to be fettered by a seemingly endless wall of thick black plastic. His ankles, knees, lap, wrists, and upper arms were all cruelly secured in the police-grade restraints. And the Sophomores were eager to impress their superiors, causing them to go all out. No mercy was shown, especially from Trey and Jean-Marc, each of which indirectly owed their previous embarrassment to the spy’s presence.
When the supply of cable ties had been exhausted, Travis looked like a sausage on a butcher’s rack. Muscled flesh bulged out from in between the restrictive plastic bonds. The cable ties left deep welts and indentations on his skin, a testament to their thoroughness. Travis vainly flexed against the ties. He was strong, on a level with Ray, and similarly hoped he could burst the ties with time. He just had to be patient… Satisfied that Step One was adequately complete, Brett undid the handcuffs binding Travis’ wrists behind his back and pocketed them. Cable ties took their place and would keep the prisoner still for Round Two.
“Juniors,” Brett bellowed. “Are you ready?” Omar, Jaquan, Bryan, Gavin, and Luis stepped up, each holding bales of silky white ropes. At this point, Shane, Scott, and Danny emerged from the house. The five pledges could be left alone for a few minutes and their presence would be needed for Round Three. Seeing the identity of the spy, Shane gave a small knowing smile and nod, but Danny and Scott seemed shocked that it wasn’t Leo. When Brett saw his Brothers were present, he gave the signal for the Juniors to strike.
Travis was already encased in black plastic, but there was still plenty of exposed flesh to cover. But not for long. Ropes flew around him with dizzying speed. They were looped around, threaded through, and skillfully knotted, reinforcing the plastic bonds already in place. While his calves and torso were being bound, Travis looked down to see that a harness of rope was being woven around his crotch area – around his waist and under his package. He wondered why this was, but only for a second. The answer suddenly became clear. Luis, behind him, had begun to fasten his bound hands to the rear of the frame. This would prevent any kind of “hands under the butt and over the legs” trick to bring his arms to the front. Rather ingenious. But that was only one reason. The harness also served to nicely frame his genitals for display. Almost in a presentational manner.
The realization of why this was hit Travis like a truck. Gavin, the thirsty prep who had licked him a few minutes ago, knelt down in front of him and began to bind his junk. His balls were pulled down slightly and separated from his pelvis by a short column of rope. Each revolution stretched his sack a little farther. Not too many time around, Travis noticed. Not enough to hurt, but enough to cause a tugging discomfort. This wasn’t being done to cause him pain or harm, but rather to cause shame and embarrassment. And also as a mental distraction to unfocus his mind. And boy, did it work! Travis turned beet red as his cock began to stir and rise. He thrashed even harder against Hoss’ grip, but soon realized it was futile to resist. He resigned himself to whining and whimpering as Gavin wrapped more ropes around the base of his cock and tied them off to the frame around his waist. His erection was now on full display for all the world to see.
While Gavin was hard at work, the other Juniors had woven an intricate diamond pattern of ropes around Travis’ chest and arms. It was almost beautiful in its own way. His pecs were individually framed, and complicated symmetrical patterns developed as more and more rope was applied. Even more rope was added to reinforce the cable ties around his wrists, further sealing Travis’ fate. When the Juniors were done, Travis was entombed from head to toe and could barely even wriggle. If he stayed still, he was relatively comfortable, but if he moved even an inch in any direction, he could feel pulling and strain on several places around his body. It seems the rope weave was functional, as well as aesthetic. Travis hung his head in utter defeat, but his blood ran cold when Brett said, “Seniors! Are you ready!”
Hoss passed guard duty off to Omar, the next largest TUG Brother, and joined the other four in appraising the bondage. Danny was passing out roles of gauze-like tape to the other Seniors, and Travis had little time to react before they charged at him. From five places on his body, Travis felt the sticky quelch of the stretchy material make contact. In a flurry of activity, the gauze was wrapped around his body, pressing tighter and tighter with each pass. Up from his ankles, up from his knees, around his waist, around his chest, and down from the top of his head, the gauze began its invasion of his body. As he squirmed, Travis felt it moving with him, conforming to the contours of his body. After a few minutes, he was completely encased from crown to toe in the unforgiving material: utterly mummified in the stretchy substance. Only his nose and exposed genitals remained uncovered.
His eyes covered as well, Travis couldn’t see the TUG Brothers grabbing him and gently lowering him to the ground on his side. He rolled a little, feeling the cold wet grass of the lawn against his raging erection. They would pay for this. All of them. He would see to it personally. Travis’ stewing in anger was interrupted by a slap on his gauze-covered ass by an anonymous hand. Brett said, “You have 10 minutes to escape. If you do, you will be handsomely rewarded. No one has been able to do it in all the years we’ve been operating, but I figured I’d let you know, anyway.” He chuckled as he began the countdown. “Three…two…one…go!”
Travis began to writhe and fight wildly. His treatment was more severe than Ray’s version a few hours ago, but that didn’t stop him. He grunted and thrashed, squirmed and howled like a man possessed. Straining against the three layers of merciless restraint securing his body. But all he got to show for it was bruises and muscle cramps. There was absolutely no give anywhere. No weak point to exploit. No flaw in the system. Fighting was pointless. The Brothers cackled at the squirming worm on the grass in front of them as the seconds ticked away. After an agonizingly long time (from Travis’ perspective), Brett called “TIME!” That was it. He had lost and he hadn’t made one bit of progress. Travis slumped down in defeat.
A raucous cheer erupted from the TUG Brothers as Travis felt himself lifted off the lawn. “Danny,” Brett said. “I have to go have a meaningful conversation with our final Prospect. He should be done stewing right about now. You’re in charge for this last bit. You know what to do. After you’re done, take everyone to the basement and wait for me.” Danny saluted with a grin as Brett turned and headed into the house.
Unable to see, Travis felt himself being hoisted up and tossed over a thick shoulder. Most likely Hoss’. Robbed of his sight by the gauze over his face, he could only hear the chanting and singing from his captors as he was carried off into the night.
When morning came and the DIX Brothers began to emerge from the house, groggy from the previous night, Travis was finally discovered. He had been secured to the street lamp on the edge of the DIX House lawn, his now-flaccid genitals exposed to the chilly morning air. A crudely drawn sign had been taped to his chest that read: “Nice attempt, but we caught your spy. Better luck next year. Don’t fuck with TUG!”
Coming Soon: Bid Night part 10 – A Game of Thrones
Last edited by wataru141 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
I'm really liking Brett. I definitely get a "heavy is the crown" vibe from him! He's clearly juggling a lot of responsibility as the frat prez. He's going to be a hopefully good influence on Leo. And maybe his little "supervillain in the making" can help Brett loosen up some! I can't wait for their conversation!
I like Brett too! Part of me sort of wishes they kept Travis prisoner, but I guess that'd be frowned upon. In any event, Brett was definitely wromg about one thing - the Binding of the Spy ritual was greatly interesting!
Well that was a lot of fun... Leo's wiliness as an asset for once and Travis getting the treatment. I agree that it's a shame he had to be returned to DIX but they still have 5 bound pledges in the house to deal with
A great couple of chapters there [mention]wataru14[/mention] (although I still think you guys need to learn that the ground floor comes before the first floor!)
Loved watching Leo use all his cunning to infiltrate the upper floors and catch the spy in the act. Maybe Jean-Marc will do a bit more laundry from now on! It'll be interesting to see how Brett and Leo interact. As with the other characters there are so many depths to explore.
The spy's punishment was fun and I like how it closes the party, brings all the brothers together and acts as an appetiser for the main event in the basement. Somehow I don't think this is the last we've seen of DIX.
We know a lot about the brothers and the pledges but who is this mysterious faculty advisor that seems to be pulling all the strings...
A pup is for life but especially for bondage so get out the sleepsack and muzzle.
Pup Wingletang wrote: ↑2 years ago
We know a lot about the brothers and the pledges but who is this mysterious faculty advisor that seems to be pulling all the strings...
Oh yeah... I too would definitely like to know more about this mysterious yet powerful character!
I know I'm a little late to the party, but I absolutely adored this latest chapter.
Like everyone else mentioned, Brett is great. Unsurprisingly though, what really stood out for me was poor Travis getting his mouth plugged with a ball of Jean-Marc's pungent skate socks. The epic and very much over-the-top bondage that followed was simply exquisite. Nothing turns me on quite like a mixture of police-grade zipties & rope.
I would've fuckin' loved taking an active role in the trussing of Travis.
Fortunately, I was able to witness the whole thing via our host's incredible narration skills
Superbly described [mention]wataru14[/mention]! Thoroughly enjoyed this!
Sorry it's been a long time since the last update. I haven't had much time to write recently because I've been in the process of buying a condo. But that seems to be going OK so I should have the time to get back on track soon.
Bradstick wrote: ↑2 years ago
I’m loving this series! It’s very well written and thought out. Congrats on the condo as well!
Welcome to the adventure, buddy.
I hope you plan on telling us who your favourite pledge is so far.
Be sure to vote on the poll if you haven't already done so, as [mention]wataru14[/mention] is going to be changing it soon.
[mention]wataru14[/mention] Congrats on your new purchase, mate!
Don't worry about not being very present recently. I think quite a few of us are dealing with the holiday craze. Been really busy on my end too and only just now getting back into the spirit of things. Either way, you have hooked and we're not going anywhere
Leo stared at the chair in absolute awe. This was standard equipment in the President’s Office? What kind of meetings did they have in here? But Leo couldn’t afford to be defiant. Not when Brett got so evasive about him getting a bid by default. “You must have to earn it regardless,” Leo thought. So the game wasn’t over yet.
“Wake up, sunshine,” Omar said, impatiently snapping his fingers. “We don’t have all night. If I miss the festivities I’ll take it out of your ass.” He pointed to the heavy wooden TUG paddle hanging from a hook on the wall beside the window. Another thing Leo had missed before, apparently. Not wanting to risk his probably tenuous chances, Leo obeyed. But in his own way. He put on a smirk and strutted over to the chair with a saucy attitude. He jumped on it and reclined sideways like Frank N. Furter from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, his legs hanging over the armrest.
“Be a dear and get me a sherry, will you, James?” Leo said in a hoity-toity accent. All he got was a slap to the side of the head for his troubles. “Not in the mood for comedy, I see,” Leo said glumly. He positioned himself appropriately in the chair with his back flat and his arms laying over the armrests. Omar, finally pleased, reached down and connected the straps. First over Leo’s right wrist, then his left. And Omar didn’t skimp on the tightness, either. Leo had small wrists, but it seemed Omar had gone all the way down to the last eyehole in the strap on each one. He was thankful his leather jacket gave him some padding. His feet weren’t so lucky, as his jeans offered minimal protection from the restrictive bindings.
Leo squirmed a little as the last ankle strap was fastened. He could get out of this, if given enough time. But did he want to? This was probably some kind of test. He pondered how he felt about that as Omar affixed the chest band firmly around his torso and buckled it behind the back of the chair. Luckily for Leo, the chair didn’t seem to have been built with someone of his slender build in mind, and the chest band was looser than intended. It was still effective at holding him down, but it wouldn’t constrict him like it would someone like Ray or even Cody. As Omar backed away, Leo again tested the straps. Pretty solid. This would definitely hold him for a while. He felt like a convict strapped down to the electric chair. He wondered why this was necessary at all, but when his mind drifted over to what the DIX spy would be experiencing momentarily, he was glad that this was all he was getting.
“How long am I gonna be here?” Leo asked.
“As long as Brett wants,” Omar said. “Once we finish with the fuckwad downstairs then you’ll have Brett’s undivided attention. But until then, just sit and be cool.”
“Cool I can do, daddy-o,” Leo said. “Like a cucumber. Like a lemonade in the shade. Like a… mpppgghhh!!” Leo’s rambling was cut off as Omar stuffed a thick kitchen sponge into his mouth.
“You talk too much,” Omar said. “Giving me a damn headache.” While Leo whined and tried to spit out the sponge, Omar slapped the edge of a strip of duct tape over his mouth and wound it around his head a few times before tearing it off and smoothing it behind Leo’s head. “That’s much better. Now you just sit tight.” Omar dropped the tape on Brett’s desk and left the room, leaving Leo to sit and mumble gloomily. Leo could hear Omar’s heavy footsteps die away down the stairs and then he was alone.
Now Leo was a creature of motion. Almost perpetual motion. And being robbed of his ability to move around really hit him hard. Restlessness and tension began to build up in him almost immediately. He could hear some kind of speech being made in the yard outside, but couldn’t make out the words. He wanted to scoot over to the window to watch, but the straps kept him from getting up out of the chair and the chair itself was too heavy for him to slide across the room to the broken window. He got especially bitter when the shouting and cheering began. “Damn it!” he thought. “I caught that dude, I should be down there watching. Or participating. Or something. Not just sitting up here strapped down and bored out of my mind.”
And the boredom was the worst part. The restraint didn’t bother Leo much. Not at all. In fact, he enjoyed a little kinky play from time to time. But it was being left alone and helpless that was getting to him. No music, nothing to look at except some old panorama photos of previous classes of TUG framed on the wall nearby. The Class of 2004 had a face that looked familiar to him, but he was too far away to get a detailed look. And his mind soon lost interest as it raced around. He was getting stir crazy. He needed to occupy his mind with something. With nothing else to do, he decided to take the time to appreciate the finery of the room’s décor.
Everything in the office was exquisitely crafted. Old and expensive. From the mahogany desk to the antique lamps and bookshelves to the crystal liquor service in the cabinet. It was like stuff you’d see in a mansion. Growing up in the ghettos of Metro City like he did, Leo wasn’t accustomed to seeing such finery. If anyone in his old neighborhood had a setup like this they’d probably end up receiving unexpected visitors in the night. The kind who wore leather gloves and skimasks. Even though Leo, himself, kept far away from that element growing up, he couldn’t help but think how much the goods in here would be worth to a pawnbroker.
But that only occupied him for so long. His mind was frantic, but his body couldn’t move. Complete torture for someone like Leo. How long had it been now? Five minutes? Ten? An hour? He couldn’t tell. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Maybe it was short-sighted, and maybe it would torpedo his chances of getting in, but Leo simply couldn’t abide being strapped down alone anymore. He had to get out. He started wriggling his wrists in a purposeful motion, trying to work his way out of the straps. Back and forth he went, each time making a little more progress. He felt the tightness slipping and more of his wrist sliding out each time. Just a few more and he would be out.
But right before he pulled his arm loose, Leo stopped. Reflected in the glass of the broken window across from him, Leo saw that a figure had emerged from the hall and was standing in the doorway. How long had he been there? How much had he seen? Leo was unsurprised to see Brett looming over him, but what surprised him was how Brett was dressed. The Chapter President had previously been clad in just jeans and a TUG t-shirt for the party. But now he was in a dark grey three-piece suit. Tailor made and cut to fit him perfectly. Brown shoes that looked like they cost more than his parents’ car. Cufflinks and tie clip that shined with real stones. Even his hair was perfectly coiffed and slicked. He looked like he should be in a boardroom, not a frat house.
When Brett was satisfied that Leo was fully aware of his presence, he slowly and methodically walked past him over to the desk and sat down. All the time, not saying a single word. When he was seated, he interlocked his fingers and held them against his chest. Staring Leo down. Leo, of course, met his gaze. He wasn’t going to let a fancy suit and tie treat him like a bitch! The two locked eyes and engaged in a contest of wills. Leo managed to hold on for a few seconds, but there was something different about Brett. There was a palpable aura of authority. Of command. The normally rebellious and insouciant Leo felt all the fight drained from him as they locked eyes. He squirmed in discomfort, but Brett just absently stroked the Presidential Ring on his finger as he stared Leo down. Finally the Freshman could stand it no longer and looked down at the floor.
“Are you done, pledge?” Brett teased. “Is your petty act of defiance overwith? You’ll soon see there’s little point in that.” Brett calmly got up and poured himself a drink. He turned his back to Leo and didn’t bother to face him as he spoke. “As for your earlier question, no, you don’t get a bid by default. I still have to honor you. There’s no loopholes here. A class of four instead of five is rare, but it has happened. I am not opposed to joining that short list if it proves necessary.”
Leo sat perfectly still. He couldn’t give a witty retort with his mouth stuffed and taped, but he got the feeling that he didn’t want to anyway. As delicate as the situation was, he didn’t want to risk pissing Brett off. He got the idea that doing so while Brett was in this mode was most unwise. He did manage to summon enough will to look up. He didn’t dare make eye contact, but at least he could stop gazing down in supplication.
“Now, what to do with you, eh?” Brett taunted, taking a slow deliberate sip of his aged whisky. “A disrespectful little shit like you. Someone to whom obedience and self-sacrifice are foreign concepts. Someone who couldn’t follow the rules if his life depended on it. What possible benefit could this Brotherhood obtain by allowing you to join our ranks?”
Leo grunted. He had a lot to say to that, but the damned sponge stifled any defense of himself. He howled in frustration. “I see you were trying to get free when I arrived,” Brett said, his voice stern but soothing. “Can’t say I blame you. And you did last longer than I expected. I figured you’d be out and rifling through my liquor cabinet before I came up here. That shows you have SOME modicum of self-control. Not a lot, but some.” Brett finished his drink and stood up. He started pacing around the room. In and out of Leo’s field of vision. “That can be fixed. Scott was the same. He may be worse than you, in fact, and he’s one of our best. Hmmm…”
Leo waited for a continuation, but was surprised to feel the brush of Brett’s hand against his jawline in an almost sensual way. He felt a ruffled tingle shoot through his body as he smelled Brett’s expensive cologne. Mmmmm. This was a man who knew what he wanted and got it. Leo admired that. And he wondered how presidential Brett would be in the sack. “This is no time for horniness,” Leo thought. “Down boy, this is important.” As best he could, Leo tried to focus his thoughts. The back of Brett’s hand gently stroked his chin and the little beard he had been trying to grow all summer. The Presidential Ring gave him a slight jolt when it made contact with Leo’s skin.
“Now THAT is interesting,” Brett said, slowly pulling his hand away. “It seems you have some leadership qualities in you. Yes, I can see that. Buried deep down beneath all that rebelliousness and frivolity. You could be my successor in a few years. Provided I can steer you right. But is it worth it? All the time and effort it would take to make something workable out of you?”
Brett pondered for a moment and then started to undo the tape around Leo’s mouth. “Let’s see what you have to say for yourself,” he said as the last strip of tape peeled away from Leo’s cheek. He carefully dipped his fingers into Leo’s mouth and removed the sponge, placing all the detritus in the wastebasket near the desk. His movements were deliberate, but cautious. As if he expected Leo to bite him. Leo picked right up on that.
“I know you think I’m some sort of wild animal,” Leo coughed. It took a moment for saliva to moisturize his tongue now that the sponge was removed. “But I’m not. I grew up poor in Metro City. VERY poor. And I have enough self control to have avoided turning to crime like most of my high school friends. Do you know how many burglary crews were scouting me? With my ability to sneak around and get into places? Hell, you saw just a tiny bit of what I can do tonight. But I knew I wanted more than that. I wanted friends who aren’t lowlifes. And the other four pledges are just that. They’re good, decent people. You know that. But they’re all stuck in their comfort zones. Mason is trying to break out himself, but the others need someone like me. Someone to turn their safe little worlds upside-down or else they’ll never grow into what they could be.”
Brett sat down and poured himself another drink. He was actually quite shocked at Leo’s astute observation of why they wanted him in the first place. But he realized he shouldn’t have been. The faculty advisor warned how sharp Leo was. How observant. He could see beneath the surface, and that could be both useful and dangerous at the same time. “Yes,” he said, after taking a slow sip to stall for time. “That is true. And why do you think YOU could provide that better than our Brothers?”
“Because I know what all this is,” Leo said, waving his head at the paddle on the wall. He would have walked over and picked it up for emphasis, but being strapped to the chair, he was unable to do that. But he got his point across. “All the theatrics. You’re trying to break us down so that we turn to each other. Bonds formed through adversity are the strongest, after all. But even after it’s all said and done, the relationship between Pledges and upperclassmen will never be as strong as the relationship the Pledges form together. No matter how good your intentions are, there will always be a little nagging suspicion when an Active tries to develop a pledge. Us Against Them is inevitable. But I am one of them. I can slip in past their defenses and help push them in ways you can’t. And, nice as this group is, they aren’t the strongest willed. They need someone to direct them. Someone who is one of them. I can provide that where you can’t.”
“And you think this is all theatrics,” Brett said. “Mind games?”
“Of course,” Leo said. “I figured that out while I watched you boys from the hill last week. Nate was too engrossed in the aesthetics of it and riding the wave of testosterone to see it for what it was, but I did. It’s all a mind game. But it’s one that is being used positively. The wrong person in your position could do a lot of damage. But I can tell you’re not that kind of person. You want to help people grow. You want to do something positive in their lives. You want to be that guiding force. I see what you have and that it’s good. If I thought something sinister was going on here I would have been on a very different mission this evening. Not that I would have helped DIX, of course, but I wouldn’t have let things continue if I thought you were hurting people. Beyond all the bells and whistles, I think you are on the level. And I want in.”
Brett took another sip and leaned back in his chair. This one was far more with it than he had thought. What a prize he had! But he was still far too insolent. Talent would only get you so far in life. He had to learn to tread lightly around authority or he would get shut down in the real world. Big personalities needed a lot of room and you don’t get that room by telling the boss he’s transparent. The faculty advisor would definitely shut that shit down right away. Brett needed to start the lesson on this one sooner than he expected. A bid was guaranteed, no doubt about that. But he had a lot of work to do and needed to start right now.
Putting down his drink, Brett stood up again and methodically walked over towards Leo. He took off his suit jacket and hung it up on the coatrack without saying a word. He rolled his shirtsleeves up as he approached. “Yes,” he said, “we were right to choose you. You could be our future or the key to our undoing. But which will you be? The beam that supports the structure or the firebomb that burns it all to the ground?”
Leo started to answer. “The supp…” but he never got to finish. Brett’s hand clamped over his mouth and pressed tightly. He showed far more strength than he seemed capable of. Leo was actually a little scared as Brett leaned in and held his face scant inches from his own. Leo could smell the whisky breath.
“Wrong answer,” Brett growled. “The correct answer is, ‘You will be whatever I choose to mold you into.’ You have potential to be great, but it needs refinement. I will give that to you. I will mold you into the man you need to be. But it will be a hard road.” Brett released his grip on Leo’s mouth and walked slowly towards the wall. Leo knew instantly that any talking would not be wise. His eyes grew wide as Brett picked up the paddle from the wall. “You think this is all theatrics?” Brett said, ominously brandishing the wooden club as he came back. “Well let’s see how well you perform.”
Brett bent down and undid the straps binding Leo to the chair. “Time to show him what I’m made of,” Leo thought. “He wants to see how much I want this? Well, he’s gonna see.” When the straps were undone, Leo had the urge to spring up from the chair and stretch to get his circulation going again. But Brett didn’t tell him to. So he remained seated. A gesture of obeisance that was not lost on Brett.
“Good,” he said. “You learn quick. You may stand. And after you do, take off your jacket and shirt and drop your pants around your ankles. Then I want you to ‘assume the position’ over my desk. Just pretend it’s the hood of a police car. I’m sure you know what to do.”
Leo fumed at the low blow, but did as he was told without complaint or hesitation. “The more you talk, the more ammunition you give me,” Leo thought. “I’ll find out what’s going on inside that head of yours and when I do, we’ll see who’ll REALLY be in charge.” Brett slid the chair away and gripped the paddle in both hands as he slithered back over.
“We’ll have to work on toning that attitude down a bit,” he said. “Let’s see how rebellious you are after this. And I want complete silence. You cry out, you go home.”
“Hmm,” Leo thought. “So this is my Gom Jabbar? Well, Reverend Mother, bring it on.” And with that, Brett brought the paddle down across Leo’s exposed cheeks. THWACK! The blow stung, and Leo felt heat welling up, but he didn’t cry out. Just gave a small grunt.
“That all you got?” he taunted.
“Oh really?” Brett laughed. “Still can’t let go of the bravado? That was just a warmup.”
THWACK! A second blow hammered down. Harder than before. Redness welled up on Leo’s skin as the dull slapping sound faded away. Leo felt the urge to react, but held it in. Self-control was what he needed more than anything now. He had to be strong. His future depended on it. If he pulled his hand out of the box now, it was all over.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! Three more blows rained down on his exposed ass. Leo’s knees got weak and he had to draw on every reserve of strength he had to keep from shouting, but he did it. After the fifth blow, Brett placed the paddle back on the desk with a pleased look on his face. And Leo found that it didn’t even hurt anymore. Not really. There was physical pain, of course, but Leo knew that he had passed his first test. He had shown Brett that he had the stamina to hold back. The control required to become something great. And that made him forget any discomfort. Victory tends to do that.
“You've heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap,” Leo said reverently. “There's an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.”
“My favorite book,” Brett said, looming over Leo from behind. The Freshman, not having been given permission to rise, remained in position over the desk. “It shouldn’t surprise me that you’re a reader with that quick mind of yours. ‘There should be a science of discontent. People need hard times to develop psychic muscles.’ Stand up and put your pants back on.” Leo quickly followed Brett’s command and turned to face the President. This game was not over, not by a longshot.
“It seems you might have what it takes,” Brett said. “That you can follow orders and stop mouthing off when you need to. But am I playing you or are you playing me? I don’t know. But think of all the fun we’ll have finding out.” Leo grinned as Brett retrieved a bale of silky white rope from the cabinet near the door. “Do me a favor and turn around. Cross your hands behind your back.”
Leo happily obeyed. He was in. This cinched it. He chuckled at his choice of words as Brett formed a sliding loop with the end of the rope and used it to secure his wrists together. “Hmm,” Leo thought. “Not using a center loop. Nontraditional method. I didn’t think he had it in him.” But nontraditional as it was, Brett’s roping proved more than adequate. The free end of the rope slithered this way and that, in and out and through itself until Leo’s wrists were completely immobilized in a series of tight loops and rope cuffs. Slip out of one, and there would be three more. What he thought was just going to be a cursory binding, for appearance’s sake, was turning out to be quite a thorough and secure job. Leo was impressed.
“Since you made such a good headway with the chair straps, I figured you have some skill as an escape artist,” Brett said as he tied the final knots off. “I’m not taking any chances with you.” Brett’s voice was different now. The edge and aura of command was off, like someone flicked a switch in his brain, and the affable frat bro was back. Brett’s seeming ability to turn it on and off at will impressed Leo greatly.
Before Leo could say a word in response, however, the sponge was shoved back into his mouth. He stood passive as fresh tape was wrapped around his head five times. “Five. For the five Pledges. Symbolic,” he thought. “Ah, Brett. Mired in your traditions. Seems you could do with a little thawing out. I’ll have to see what I can do about that…”
“You are the fifth,” Brett said reverently, derailing Leo’s train of thought. “Your four Brothers await your arrival and when you join them, the ritual can begin. Welcome to the Pledge Class of Tau Upsilon Gamma.”
Coming Soon: Bid Night part 11: The Knot
Now that all the bids have been given and the pairings chosen by you have been cemented, there is just one more chapter before Bid Night is over and the next chapter begins: “Brotherly Bonding.” There are five pairs, but we will only explore three of them right now. So vote in the new poll for the three Pledge/Active outings you want to see most.
Last edited by wataru142 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
This chapter absolutely sold me on Brett and Leo as a Senior/Freshman pair. The tense, competitiveness, the subtle battle of wits, the personas they keep putting on. It's all amazing! I love that Leo is happy to play along with Brett's whims. I really hope that you are hinting at Leo tying down Brett at some point... maybe in that sexy suit?
As for the poll, I voted for Cody/Scott, Mason/Danny, and Ray/Shane.
I really want to see what Danny has in store to start Mason's transformation and training. Danny surprised Mason (and myself) so I'm excited to see his suggestions for his pledge.
Similarly, what Shane has planned for Ray is intriguing. Is this a typical audition, playing into Ray's already established theatrics? Or does our pretty boy senior have something else in mind?
And, I feel like Cody and Scott needs little explanation. Even if it's just for a nice leather jacket that fits Cody, I feel like this is going to be the most popular option!
Also, it may be best to start a completely new poll, since it looks like the votes for readers' favorite pledge carried over. So a clean slate may be best to get an accurate tally of votes!
