Tau Upsilon Gamma [M+/M+] [update - 3/15/24] NEW POLL

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Who should Mason save?

NATE: plug gag, gorilla tape bonds, nipple clamps
2
9%
CODY: duct tape gag, handcuffs, Icy Hot
5
22%
LEO: Hoss' sock gag, rope bonds, tickle torture
11
48%
RAY: bandana gag, slave harness, in his underwear
5
22%
HIMSELF
0
No votes
 
Total votes: 23

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Post by gag1195 »

KidnappedCowboy wrote: 2 years ago And Cody has the makings of a Leather Daddy? Or is he more intrigued by Leo's assertiveness?
I was so distracted by Leo, that I overlooked this part in detail, but yes! I love that journey for Cody! Get that cowboy a sexy leather jacket and then I'll have an impossible time choosing between the two of them!
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Post by cj2125 »

I'm really enjoying this story! And each chapter I get a new favorite character!(Though right now I'm torn between Nate and Leo!), really good job!
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Post by george_bound »

Well I can't argue with what the others have said... it's definitely hard to choose between lasso stud and witty leather dude (but do we really need to choose, lol) ... and there are more to come, definitely intrigued by what Ray and Mason will bring to the story!

I must say I'm really really enjoying all the character and setting details, as [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] has eluded to in an earlier comment, they definitely are not going unnoticed and really take this story to the next level :)

I'm also particularly liking the fraternity names: Tau Upsilon Gamma (TUG) and Delta Iota Xi (DIX) haha ;) P.S., I wouldn't mind at all seeing Delta Iota Xi house invaded and all the frat jocks abducted and held hostage for their bullish misdeeds... just saying 8-)
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Post by wataru14 »

KidnappedCowboy wrote: 2 years ago The Professor is an interesting character. He saves the day for Leo, but he's not an entirely good man. He's not above fixing grades in order to keep the football players on the team.
A lot of colleges have a system in place where athletes just get passing grades but never actually attend classes. I know mine did. There was a football player in my Freshman acting class, for example, and I only saw him the first day. Never again. But his name was always on the grade postings. In the case of this particular professor, he fixes grades because he has to. It's unofficially part of his job description.
KidnappedCowboy wrote: 2 years ago And Cody has the makings of a Leather Daddy? Or is he more intrigued by Leo's assertiveness?
As they say, fetishes can come out of nowhere and in places you least suspect. Cody is impressed by Leo's DGAF attitude, but he's an assertive guy himself. We just haven't seen him in a situation where he needs to be. Depending on the results of the first reader poll (which will be at the end of Chapter 5) we'll see if Cody will need to show off that "assertive" side.
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Post by Jason07 »

So far I am loving everything about his story! I'm very excited to see how it unfolds further. Right now my personal preference is firmly holding steady on Nate. He seems cute and sweet!
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Post by wataru14 »

Jason07 wrote: 2 years ago So far I am loving everything about his story! I'm very excited to see how it unfolds further. Right now my personal preference is firmly holding steady on Nate. He seems cute and sweet!
Glad to see all the boys are getting some love! It's easy for characters like him to get lost in the shuffle around big personalities like Leo. But, to me, Nate is the most real. All five of the pledges are a little piece of myself, but Nate is the one that I feel encapsulates my own college life the most.
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

Bless Cody's heart, he's so earnest even when Leo and Nate were joking around. :)

Speaking of Leo, he's really a prankster so even if the iocks went overboard, I enjoyed how he got some punishment. He'll definitely be an interesting addition to Tau Upsilon Gamma for sure.
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Post by wataru14 »


Chapter 4: Ray & Mason

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Ray sat on the concrete bench that jutted out from the locker bank taping up his knuckles. His boxing gloves lay just a few inches away to his right and his overstuffed gym bag to his left. His roommate wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow and most of his high school buddies were busy getting acquainted with their own, so the dirty-blonde jock had decided to blow off some steam at the gym. Hit the heavy bag for a while. He wasn't used to being left out (even if it was for a legit reason) and felt like hitting something.

After flexing his fingers to check the firmness of the tape, he popped in his earbuds and turned up the volume on “Power Metal Mix 4.” He was a wrestler by trade, but since there was no one to practice with he was going with boxing tonight. It was a poor substitute in his mind, but hey, anything that let him work out his aggression was a good thing. Ray hated working out alone, but it couldn’t be helped. What good is beating your best if there was no one around to see it? Whatever. He’d just have to make do by himself.

The nylon of his baggy red athletic shorts swooshed together as he stood up and did a few preparatory hops in place, swinging and stretching his arms. As always when he worked out, Ray was shirtless. It was always better to see everyone’s jealous faces when he strutted by. And their hungry glances. He knew his body was hot shit and he wanted everyone else to know it, too. He had put a lot of work into looking this good, so why shouldn’t he show off? Not overbulky like a juicehead nor lanky like a swimmer, Ray was the perfect balance between mass and definition. And these weren’t just vanity muscles, either. He was strong, sturdy, and fast: the total package. Cracking his neck muscles left and right one last time, Ray grabbed his gloves and headed out the locker room door into the empty gym. The only sound after he left was the slow drip drip dip of the leaky shower nearby.

Mason gave it to the count of 20 before he emerged from his hiding place in the next locker bank. He thought the musclebound lunk would never get started! He had seen the blonde demigod at Campus Center after dinner, cheering on some football jocks as they taped some poor sucker to the Founder’s Statue, and felt heart palpitations almost immediately. The scene unfolding was exciting enough, but when he saw the early evening sun glinting off of Ray’s broad shoulders, barely covered by the straps of his tank top, he couldn’t focus on anything else.

Setting up his workstation at the Engineering building could wait till tomorrow. He just had to get closer to this absolute god! It wasn’t easy following him around without being noticed, but Mason managed just fine. He was smart enough to find a way. “Mr. 4.0” should have been enrolled in an Ivy League school based on his grades, but his lack of extracurriculars and his parents’ empty pockets landed him here at MCU. At least he got a free ride thanks to the “Dr. Calamity Memorial Scholarship for Outstanding STEM Students.” But Mason had learned to accept second choices. After all, he’d lived his life being just that to nearly everyone he met. He was tired of always being ignored. Always passed over. Maybe that’s why he was drawn to this particular muscle stud. When he walked into a room, everyone took notice. No one would dare ignore him!

Once the rhythmic cadence of fists hitting the heavybag began, Mason knew he had some alone time. Hungrily he advanced on Ray’s gym bag, carelessly left out on the bench. What treasures lied within, he wondered? Nervously, he plunged his hand into the bag. He fumbled past water bottles and folded towels until his hand came to rest upon something soft and damp. His pulse was racing! He had never done something so naughty! Giddy with the thrill of breaking every rule of decency, he clamped his fingers down on the mystery object and slowly pulled it out.

In his hand was a sweat-stained and heavily used jockstrap. Mason’s eyes widened in wonder. This had been on HIS body! HIS junk had rested in this cup. Mason gave some quick, nervous glances around and then held the fetid undergarment up to his face. Yeuch! It stank to high heaven! Mason resisted the urge to throw it back into the bag, but curiosity got the better of him. Curiosity and desire. He raised his left leg and slipped it in, followed by his right, and pulled the jockstrap up over his waist, over his khaki cargo shorts. He stripped off his shirt, imagining his scrawny frame swelling into thick, cut muscles. In his head, he imagined himself defeating his opponent on the wrestling mat and having his hands raised in victory! The crowd was cheering like savage maniacs! And it was all for him!

Feeling suddenly very stupid, Mason awkwardly stepped out of the jock strap. What was he even doing? He had classes to prepare for. He was about to throw the soggy thing back in the bag, but he just couldn’t. Tentatively, he brought it up to his nose. Preparing himself for the stinky onslaught that was to follow, Mason braced himself and took a deep, long sniff. The pungent odor of workout sweat and unwashed balls made his head swim, but he kept going. In his mind, he started rattling off the names of all the bacteria species he was probably inhaling, but he didn’t care. This is what a REAL man smells like. Not a weakling like him. Someone who gets what he wants because he takes it. Someone that no one overlooks. He took another deep breath and started to fondle his crotch.

Against every logical, rational thought in his body, Mason’s cock became more and more engorged with each putrid sniff. He let the aroma dance in his sinuses. It was foul and sour beyond belief, but yet the sweetest smell he had ever experienced. Dropping his shorts to the floor, Mason feverishly began stroking his cock like mad as he drew more and more of the acrid, fetid stench into his lungs. But then everything came to a crashing halt.

“What the fuck?” Mason heard from behind him and froze in terror. HE was back! Mason quickly dropped the soggy undergarment onto the bench and backed up, awkwardly pulling his pants up as he stumbled.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I… I…”

Ray didn’t want to hear it. Instead, he punched the locker near him. It resonated with an ominous clang. “What the fuck are you doing? Sniffing my jock? What kind of sick, perverted faggot shit is that?” He took two steps towards Mason.

“Please,” Mason begged, “I’m sorry. Just let me leave.”

“I find you going through my stuff and sniffing my strap and you expect me to just let that slide, faggot?” Ray loomed closer and closer. “It’s not going to happen that way, pal.”

Mason had no choice. He turned and bolted. But Ray was faster. There was no way he’d be able to outrun the blonde Adonis, and he knew it, but he had to try. He only managed to get two steps before Ray grabbed him and pulled him down onto the wet tile floor.

“You like what you smelled, perv?” Ray taunted. He had Mason in a tight full Nelson. His rippling legs were wrapped securely around Mason’s waist, crushing him with their strength. Mason could feel Ray’s ample package pressed against his bare back. His own member started to swell in response. “Holy shit!” Ray said, seeing Mason’s arousal. “You’re actually getting off on this! Perverted little fucker! Tell you what, bitch. I got an idea that lets me walk out of here happy and you walk out of here in one piece. You interested?”

“Yes!” Mason shouted. “Anything! Just let me go. You’re crushing me!” Ray took no special delight in dominating someone so weak and small. It was too easy. He preferred demonstrating his dominance over more worthy opponents, but this was a special situation. A lesson needed to be taught.

Ray released his hold on Mason and sprang to his feet. He started fumbling in his bag and said “Get up and stand right there” to Mason without lowering himself to look at him. Mason had no choice but to comply. He looked at the floor as Ray produced a jumprope from his training bag. “Put your hands behind your back and if you move even a hair, I’ll beat you within an inch of your life.” He grabbed Mason’s hands and yanked them behind his back before using the jumprope to tie them together in a thorough knot. The handgrips of the jumprope dangled beneath Mason’s bound hands and bounced against the back of this thighs as he squirmed. Of course the knots were perfect. Why did he expect any less? Mason couldn’t possibly wriggle free from this. And he didn’t dare try.

“On your knees, faggot,” Ray barked, taking Mason’s shoulders in hand and forcing him down to the floor. His rapidly swelling crotch was centimeters from Mason’s face. “Now lick!” he demanded. Trembling, Mason stuck out his tongue and worshipped the front of Ray’s shiny workout shorts. He felt Ray’s engorged member through the fabric with his tongue. It was massive! Ray smiled as Mason further degraded himself and scoured his shorts with his tongue. “Good fag boi,” he purred.

Taking Mason’s head in his hands, he smooshed the smaller boy’s face directly into his crotch. “You wanna sniff something? Sniff this!” he grunted. Mason took a strong inhale and his nose was assaulted by the acrid smell of Ray’s junk, soaked from post-workout perspiration. It was like the jockstrap but stronger and fresher. More odorous and less mitigated by time. Mason became slightly lightheaded. He wanted to push away, but his bound hands rendered him helpless to resist. But his body responded as it did before and he felt himself getting erect.

Ray noticed this, too, and chuckled. “Now for the payoff.” He pulled his shorts down, revealing another sweat-soaked and putrid jockstrap. Ray loomed over Mason like an angry thunder god. “You like jocks so much, take it off me!” he said with a cruel sneer.

“But my hands are tied,” Mason said. “How am I going to…?”

“You’re a smart fag boi,” Ray taunted. “You figure it out.”

Mason hesitated, then craned his neck forward and grasped the elastic waistband of Ray’s jock with his teeth. His face grew flushed with shame. Straining from the awkward position his body was bound in, he had a difficult time of it, but eventually he managed to dislodge the jockstrap and slide it down past Ray’s bulge. It was a humiliating experience.

THWAP! Ray’s cock, now free from its prison, shot straight up and socked Mason in the eye. He felt the texture of the cockhead rub against his cheek as the jockstrap fell to the floor. Ray guffawed with laughter. Bracing himself by putting his hands on Mason’s shoulders, Ray slowly stepped out of his clothing. He stood before Mason clad only in his socks and workout shoes. With a sneer on his lips he picked up the rancid jockstrap from the floor and held it in front of Mason’s face.

“This one’s much riper,” he taunted. “See for yourself.” Mason gave a tentative sniff and winced at the foul funk of sweaty ballsack mixed with precum. Ray just laughed as he turned the garment upside down and brought the pouch down over Mason’s face. The elastic straps were arranged behind the smaller boy’s head and the cup rested squarely over his nose. His breathing was unobstructed, but he wouldn’t be able to take in air without getting a blast of that pungent odor. Mason coughed from the stench as he felt Ray’s cockhead rub across his chin, dancing its way towards his mouth.

“Now let’s see how sorry you REALLY are!” Ray said in a low and ominous growl.

----

The scalding hot water from the showerhead hit Mason like a bullet. He let the water cascade over him and carry away both his and Ray’s emissions down the drain. He reached over to the soap tray, but found it empty.

“Here you go, dude,” Ray said and handed him a fresh bar.

“Thanks, man,” Mason said with a smile.

“So you liked it?” Ray said in an uncharacteristically unconfident tone of voice. It wasn’t like the blonde Adonis to be so humble and Mason found it adorable. He reached up and rubbed Ray’s washboard abs.

“It was perfect!” he purred. “Very convincing. I’d hate to see what someone walking in would have thought.”

“Yeah,” Ray said, lathering himself up. “That would have been fucking weird! But anyway, happy birthday, man! The Big 1-8!”

“Thanks!” Mason said with a grin. “I really appreciate you doing this for me. I know it must have been awkward for you.”

“Put those thoughts right out of your head, little man,” Ray said. “You’ve done much MUCH more for me. I owe you this and more! I never would have passed Old Lady Jenkins’ math class if it wasn’t for you. Hell, I wouldn’t have even been able to get into college without your help on my essay. I’d be working at the mill with Uncle Bob until I keeled over.”

“You’re acting like I helped you cheat or something,” Mason laughed. “All I did was tutor you and edit your admissions essay. You did all the hard work yourself.”

That was total bullshit. Mason was deliberately understating his role in Ray’s passing grades, but he would never say that out loud. Being friends with Ray as long as he had, he learned early on that you have to stroke his ego to keep him happy. Let him think it was his own accomplishment. Otherwise he’d sulk for days. Ray couldn’t stand thinking he failed at something.

The two were unlikely friends, but had been inseparable since kindergarten. Mason always told the best stories. Knew all the best video game secrets. And always had something interesting to say at parties. When you could coax him away from the wall, that it. Ray had made it his quest to help bring Mason out of his shell and become more confident in himself. But it wasn't an easy task. All the better, Ray thought. Mason knew people only tolerated his skinny nerd presence because he was under Ray’s protection, but he didn’t mind. He was just happy to be included. Mason said it was a “mutualistic relationship” or some other scientific junk, but Ray just thought it was being best friends, no matter what it was called. Of course, that friendship did come with some “recreational benefits,” too. The pair had been experimenting and fooling around with each other for two years now. Neither wanted a true “relationship” per se, but were content with enjoying each other’s company, no matter what form that enjoyment took.

This wasn’t the first time that one had tied the other up nor the first time they had roleplayed. Mason always thought that he was awkward and unconvincing in his performances, but he did enjoy the thrill of being someone else for a little while. Of course, Ray always had to be the dominant, active role, but that was to be expected. But Ray’s acting was something else! He was a natural talent. But then again, of course he was. The beefy stud excelled at everything he did. Except math, that is. Mason had been trying to get Ray to sign up for some theater courses, but his jock buddy held up his nose at that idea. “Shame,” Mason thought. “He’d be a great actor.”

Mason let his thoughts drift back to the present. “Which brings me to the second part of my birthday gift,” he said, shutting the water off and grabbing two towels.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Ray asked, drying himself off.

“Absolutely,” Mason said with surprising authority. “I’ve been a scrawny nobody for too long. I want you to fix me.”

“You don’t need fixing, dude,” Ray said. “You’re fine the way you are.”

“I’m sick of being the way I am,” Mason said, a hint of an edge in his voice. “We’re not talking about Freaky Friday here, I just want you to train me. Toughen me up. Help me get big like you.”

Ray took Mason’s chin and raised it up. “If that’s what you really want, I’ll do it,” he said. “I love you like a brother, man, and I want you to be happy. If that’s what will make you happy then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Thank you,” Mason said earnestly. “College is about more than books. It’s about experimentation. Finding yourself. I think I want to get out from under everyone else’s expectations and discover who I really am.”

“I can understand that,” Ray admitted. “Believe me.” He playfully punched Mason in the arm. “But if you let your grades slip during your quest to ‘find yourself,’ your parents will have my ass on a platter,” Ray joked, wrapping the towel around his waist.

“No worries,” Mason said. “’Mr. 4.0’ isn’t going away, he’s just going to grow with the times.”

As the two friends emerged from the showers and made their way back to Ray’s locker, they were surprised to see two envelopes resting on the bench next to Ray’s gym bag. Envelopes with their names on them.

“I thought you said there was no one else in the building,” Ray said, suddenly nervous.

“There isn’t,” Mason stammered. “I’m sure. I triple checked.”

Ray picked up the envelope and turned it over in his hand. The golden letters “ΤΥΓ” glinted in the fluorescent light. “I wonder what’s in here,” he said, and opened the envelope.

Coming Soon: Interlude – Strip Poker
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Post by Jason07 »

Ohoho! Mason, you are an absolute cutie! I cannot imagine how many nerds would absolutely resonate with his current mindset. That desire to change oneself from being weak, to becoming strong. I wish him well on his way towards that goal!
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

"What kind of sick, perverted faggot shit is that?”
When I read that, it sent chills through me...then I continued reading!

Ray's a stud! My heart may belong to Cody (for obvious reasons), but Mason's a close second.

“Dr. Calamity Memorial Scholarship for Outstanding STEM Students.”
Love the cross-reference! Will we see a crossover at one point, [mention]wataru14[/mention]?
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Post by Volobond »

Haha,love the subversion of expectations and the relationship between these two best friends!
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Post by wataru14 »

KidnappedCowboy wrote: 2 years ago
"What kind of sick, perverted faggot shit is that?”
When I read that, it sent chills through me...then I continued reading!
Writing like that is really outside of my comfort zone. I was originally going to break this chapter up into two, but I didn't want to leave off with Ray looking like a total asshole. I was very worried about how people would take him.
KidnappedCowboy wrote: 2 years ago
“Dr. Calamity Memorial Scholarship for Outstanding STEM Students.”
Love the cross-reference! Will we see a crossover at one point, @wataru14?
Well, Metro City is the hub of my bondageverse. The guys from Brute Squad Films did graduate from MCU. And Jack Mills sometimes give symposiums there. We're not going to see QE soaring over campus in a pink UFO but there may be subtle appearances from time to time. Nothing that distracts from the narrative. I want this one to be more grounded.
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Post by wataru14 »

Now that we've met all the pledges, I added a little reader poll. This isn't the BIG one that shapes the story (that will come after the next scene is completed), but just a little fun survey.
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Post by bondagefreak »

[mention]wataru14[/mention] Wow! Ok. I really like Leo.
I didn't think I would, but I do. He probably gets along real well with Phil, doesn't he? 8-)

The description of his flight and then his ensuing capture was so well done that I could see it happening as though I was there witnessing the whole thing. I've said this already, but your writing is brilliant, my friend! This really is top-notch stuff.

I'm sure Cody looks stunning in that somewhat distressed leather jacket.
I'm also sure he's quite pleased to get to wear it for an extended period of time.

There is just so much to say about all this, but I'll keep some of my praises for future reviews.

I'm going to withhold my vote until tonight, by which time I'll have met all five of the pledges.
I totally do NOT dislike Nate, but I very much DO have a strong liking of Cody and Leo already.

Anxious to see how the two other pledges will affect my choice.

Fabulous stuff, friend!
Really enjoying this.


On another note...I can definitely sniff out a Baldur's Gate/D&D player when I hear one.
Looks like our photo-boy and cool kid Leo are somewhat geekier than I expected 8-)
Cody's bewildered reaction was quite amusing.
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Post by Pup Wingletang »

I'm a bit late to the story but once I started reading I couldn't stop and it meant I got to meet all the pledges in one go!

You've introduced us to 5 brilliant characters and now you ask us to pick a favourite. I do like Leo with his leather jacket and cocky attitude but in the end I had to go with Mason - I have to stick with the nerdy engineer!

Some of the references are definitely going over my head but I particularly enjoyed the one about dilating spacetime - science jokes I can cope with!

I don't think I'll ever get my head around the US education system, particularly the way sport has been twisted into it. (The only university sporting event that escapes into mainstream culture in the UK is the boat race!)

You really are a brilliant story teller [mention]wataru14[/mention] and I love the imaginative ways you have introduced us to these characters with some fun bits of bondage and the secretive society that is lurking in the background - it seems to have very sophisticated tendrils.

Looking forward to where this goes and how the interactive element comes into play.
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Post by george_bound »

Hmmmm... Mason was totally me back in the day, haha... and my Ray was David Brown... 6'5" 220lbs of rock solid hunk but an absolute teddy bear...we were in a lot of classes together in high school so I'd intentionally follow a safe distance behind him admiring his tight ass, he knew how to wear a pair of Levis 8-)

Apart from all of that, I have to say I like a characteristic of all five of our pledges but am leaning toward Leo and Cody.

Now just waiting for Queer Eye to make an appearance as house father, hehe :lol:
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Post by george_bound »

Hmmm... was just reading some of the above comments and you've burst my anticipating bubble, haha!
wataru14 wrote: 2 years ago We're not going to see QE soaring over campus in a pink UFO but there may be subtle appearances from time to time. Nothing that distracts from the narrative. I want this one to be more grounded.
And rightly so as this is clearly a different genre from Dr Calamity but both equally brillant narrations in their own rights :D
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Post by gag1195 »

Mason and Ray are both great! I really do hope they both go out for some theater courses or play auditions. Maybe MCU could put on a rendition of "Arsenic and Old Lace"? I feel like the on stage chair tying scene would be a big hit at this university!

Leo is definitely still my favorite, but Mason and Ray with their roleplaying was phenomenal!
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Post by wataru14 »

The next two parts will come more quickly. So we can get to the first major reader choice! It will be at the end of Strip Poker - part 2, coming out tomorrow.


Interlude: Strip Poker – part 1

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The first TUG Ruling Council meeting of the semester had been dragging on for hours and everyone was getting bored and restless, especially Scott. His party and social event plans had been early in the agenda and, of course, everything was approved quickly. Parties were his kingdom and he was the muthafuckin’ Emperor, after all! But after that he had been cooped up listening to Danny drone on about finances and fundraising and a ton of other boring shit like that. It wouldn’t have been quite as bad if Hoss didn’t have his feet up on the table. The big ox had gone out to the mud flats in his jeep yesterday and his size-14 “shit-kicker” work boots were caked in the dried sludge. And they didn’t even have pledges to clean the floors yet!

It took nearly two days to get the TUG house back into respectable condition after the Induction Ceremony party. And even the Seniors had to pitch in on the clean-up! “Yeah,” Scott thought, “we need those slaves… um, pledges… real fast.” He did find it interesting that Brett said he saw someone watching them from the hill during the ritual. But Scott didn’t mind. He was sort of an exhibitionist about things like that and loved an audience.

It had taken several agonizing hours, but they finally got to the last item. Brett handed out manila folders that had about a dozen profile sheets inside. Profiles of the new prospective Pledge Class. Scott eagerly tore through them, trying to decide which flavor of fresh meat he wanted to savor. And these dossiers were pretty detailed. Scott should have been curious about how they got so much info on these guys so fast, but it WAS Brett, after all. He got the info from their faculty advisor and that guy seemed to know everything about everyone. He wondered how long Brett had been working on these. Dude sure loved his manila folders. And his paperwork. He was organization with a capital ORG. Maybe both A’s, too. Scott was glad someone liked that shit so he didn’t have to do it, but he thought Brett really needed to chill sometimes. It was either his way or no way and everything needed to be perfect. Bro was heading for stress baldness and ulcers before he was 25!

The prospects still had to be given official bids, and only five would make the cut. One for each Senior. Each Bro would rank their choices and the the five would be picked after the Bros got to hang out with them a little at the mixer. Can't make a big decision like this with just a resume! But looking through the profiles was the last step before each Big Bro made their initial selections. “Assigning the Big Bros to the new pledges is important,” Brett lectured. “The BB serves as an anchor. Someone the pledge can always turn to and who will always be in his corner. No matter what else is going on around. Our job as a group, though, is to break them down enough so that they take solace in each other and form tight bonds.”

“Heh,” Hoss chortled. “They’ll be forming TIGHT BONDS, all right.” The sergeant-at-arms was the biggest among them and had contributed the least to the overall discussion. But he usually didn’t speak up at meetings. Unless some sort of disciplinary measure was being discussed. Then he had a lot to say, Scott mused. Occasionally Hoss lifted a plastic water bottle to his bulging lower lip and spit into it, rubbing it in to Scott that he could partake of his particular vice indoors. Scott had been fiending hardcore for a while now. He had tried absently removing the cigarette from behind his ear and twirling it in his fingers while looking at the door, but Brett said no more breaks until they came to a decision. Scott swore that sometimes Brett got off on watching people squirm. But he wasn’t a guy you argued with. Not if you didn’t want the paddle, that is. When he was in the zone, he didn't take kindly to backtalk.

“Settle down there, partnah,” Shane cooed. “Plenty of time for rustling after we choose our fillies.” Scott loved Shane like a brother, but sometimes he just wanted to punch him in his perfect face. Perfect face, perfect hair... everything about the dude was perfect. “But we can’t ALL get first pick. Someone has to step back.” Shane was always trying to be everybody’s pal. Always the peacemaker. Normally his honeyed voice could make anyone do anything he wanted, but the other Seniors were well aware of his charms and learned to resist their effects. Shane was the guy who never had to pay for drinks at the bar. The guy who had people falling over themselves to write his essays for him. People wanted to be near him. Hell, they wanted to be him! But Shane's attempt at persuasion was met with nothing but a crushed Natty Ice can thrown at his head, accompanied by a chorus of boos and fart noises. And one real one. Most likely from Hoss.

The can thrower was Scott’s fraternal twin Danny, who had broken himself away from watching WWE on his phone long enough to throw projectiles. “Fuck that!” he jeered. “You want someone to step back, you go first.” Leave it to Danny to be blunt, Scott thought. Danny was usually a lot more focused than this, but the problem was he was usually focused on himself. Danny loved one thing in the world more than any other… and that was Danny. Brett knew Danny wanted his spot as president (he was hardly subtle about it), and the two seemed to butt heads over everything recently. Danny never pushed Brett over the edge with overt disobedience, but he came damn close at time. Always pushing against the boundaries. But Danny wasn't just an ambitious asshole. When the chips were down, Danny always had your back. If he could pull himself away from the mirror, that is.

Everyone in the group already knew Brett’s sermon, of course. They had all been through it on the other end three years ago. But they let him drone on like they didn’t. The actual selection debate felt like pulling teeth. A few of the potentials were odd choices, making Scott wonder why they were given invitations in the first place. But the faculty advisor seemed to know what he was doing, so Scott didn't fret it overmuch. They must have had hidden qualities. And bringing those out could be a lot of fun. When the Seniors eventually ranked their pledges there was considerable overlap and no one would back down and let someone choose first. Brett had suggested going in council rank order, but that would mean him first, Danny second, and Scott last. Fuck that! Danny could have seconded, but he was holding out for first pick, himself. Scott was grateful for that, at least. But it was the only halfway viable suggestion, he hated to admit. As tempting as Hoss’ idea of wrestling for first pick was (NOT!), Scott thought something a little less obviously biased was in order. Since they were getting nowhere, he decided to take the initiative and offer his own plan.

“Bros,” he said. “We could stay here and argue all night but who wants that? Why don’t we settle this like men? I move we adjourn to the rec room and decide with a little game of… Strip Poker PLUS? Winner gets first choice.” The idea was eagerly and unanimously accepted with joyous cries and as soon as Brett’s gavel hit the desk, all five were off like a shot.

Strip Poker PLUS was a TUG specialty. For the most part it was your standard game, but with a few small tweaks. Everyone started with five articles of clothing to lose. Folding right off the bat exempted you from taking something off, but once you held and replaced your cards, folding wouldn’t save you. After you were naked and out, the winner of the hand that defeated you got to tie you up in any manner they chose. And you had to remain that way until all other losing players were bound and the ultimate victor decided to let you free. Usually that meant the following morning, but it was sometimes longer. The record was an entire long weekend! Scott still hadn't forgiven Brett for that.

---

An hour into the game, Scott was beginning to regret his suggestion. Everyone had lost a round or two, but he was down four out of five! He didn’t understand his bad luck. Poker was a game of smarts and bluffing, both of which were solidly in his wheelhouse. But Lady Luck was being a fickle whore tonight and dealt him shit cards again and again. He had tried keeping his crap hands a few times and bluffing his way to victory, but even that blew up in his face. Danny knew all his tells. Hoss was doing almost as bad with three losses, but he was dumb as a post and couldn’t lie to save his life. Scott was positively insulted that the musclebound lunk was beating him. Hoss was wearing only his boxers and his nasty-ass boots. He had tried to remove them on an earlier loss, but the group vetoed that. If they had to be subjected to the rank stench of Hoss’ feet it was going to be last! Scott himself was only wearing his red TUG snapback cap on backwards and a nervous smile.

Danny and Brett were doing modestly well, each having only lost their shirts and one other item. In Brett’s case it was his fitted TUG cap, but Danny had chosen his sneakers and everyone was wishing he hadn’t. His stench was less pungent than Hoss’, but not by much. They had to take a deep bong hit each before it masked the smell enough to keep playing. Shane, however, was cleaning up. He had only lost one hand and had chosen his boat shoes to remove. Dude’s dainty feet smelled like roses, Scott thought. But of course they did. Homeboy must be a witch or something.

But now Scott had to focus. He was almost out and he didn’t want to be first. Not only would that mean last pick, but traditionally the first loser got mercilessly tormented by the others while he was bound. As a special punishment for going down first. No fucking way! Scott lit up a cigarette while Brett dealt out the hand. He was allowed to smoke in the rec room, one of the reasons he suggested playing in there. He looked at his cards. Shit again. Scott decided he was going to fold. It was too risky to bluff right now. Hoss and Brett followed suit. After the cards were discarded and replaced, Danny laid down his full house, beating Shane’s three 7’s. “Good hand, bro,” Shane said as he removed his black knit cap and placed it gently on his shoes on the floor next to him. Scott was just happy to see Shane lose a hand. If he was going out soon, he didn’t want “Mr. Perfect” to only be down one item!

The next hand went better for Shane and he won with two pair. Scott folded again, and so did Brett. Hoss and Danny pressed their luck, but lost out with only single pairs each. Danny stood up and slid out of his shiny navy blue track pants, leaving him only in his jockey shorts and backwards baseball cap. Hoss started to remove his boots, but again there was a chorus of “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!”

“Fine,” Hoss chortled, you wanna see my meat so bad? Here you go.” He yanked off his flannel boxers and let his 8-inch monster flop out against his leg. He was as hung as his namesake, that’s for sure! Scott was by no means poorly endowed, but Hoss was in another league altogether.

The distraction of the giant bratwurst to his left proved Scott’s undoing, however. In the next hand he tried to press his luck with two pair, but Danny shut him down with three 10’s. That was it. Scott was out. “Too bad, bro,” Danny cackled as the other brothers cheered him on. Scott removed his cap and did his lap of shame around the table. “Since I won,” Danny said, reiterating the rules to rub it in, “I get to choose how you’re tied, brah.”

Danny reached up and tweaked his twin’s bare nipple before giving it a twist. Scott winced. “I’m telling Mom!” he whined. Danny just slapped him upside the head and directed him over to the pool table a short distance away. Scott was made to lie down on his back, exposing his junk to the air. Nearby was a display case filled to the brim with rope, zip ties, manacles, leather straps, and other more exotic accoutrements of bondage. Everything a master needed to adequately restrain his prisoner in any way he saw fit. Normally this kind of stuff would be tucked away in a secret box in someone’s closet, but not at the TUG house. Most social and common rooms in the house had one like it, lovingly maintained and diligently kept stocked. Wouldn’t be TUG house without that particular trophy case in each room!

Scott began to sweat as Danny browsed the merchandise. His twin was many things, but nice wasn’t one of them and there was a mean streak hidden under all those muscles. Scott watched Danny’s hand brush past a full set of prison transport chains and settle on four lengths of strong and silky rope. “In honor of the pool table, let’s rack him up!” Danny said with a sneer. He looped one rope around each of Scott’s wrists and ankles and fashioned an unslippable cuff around each limb. Scott’s extremities were positioned in an X-pattern and the ropes were secured under the pool table to the opposite leg. He pulled each one painfully tight before securing it down, stretching his brother to the limit. He looked like a medieval prisoner displayed on the rack. Scott squirmed in vain, but Danny had him dead to rights. But he wasn’t quite done yet.

Danny strutted back to his discarded clothes pile and grabbed his knee-length socks. “Come on, man!” Scott pleaded. “Those are fucking RANK. How long has it been since you washed those?” Danny admitted that he had been working out in them for days, but wouldn’t hear any more arguments. There weren’t any pledges to do the laundry yet anyway. He stuffed one in his brother’s protesting mouth and stuffed it completely in, causing Scott’s cheeks to bulge out and his eyes to water from the foul odors wafting off the dingy white fabric. Danny stretched the other into a band that he secured around Scott’s head, holding the soggy mass in place. Scott’s eyes teared from the noxious odor as he whimpered in impotent disgust. But even that wasn’t the end of his torture. Now it was time for the other Brothers to get involved!

As the group approached the table, smiling wickedly, Danny retrieved one more item from the case. He walked over to Brett and handed him a plastic chastity device. “He’s my blood, so I’m not going to put this on him, but the fucker deserves it,” Danny said. “So you get the honors, boss man.” Brett saluted and cruelly attached the plastic cage around Scott’s junk and locked it with a padlock before handing the key to Danny. “Sucks to be first out, don’t it, brah?” Danny taunted as Scott screamed through his putrid sock gag. This was also tradition. As a mark of shame for losing, first man out had to spend the whole next day in chastity. Another reason Scott was furious at himself for failing so quickly. Wasting no time, Brett immediately started tickling Scott’s ribs like a madman while Shane flicked his imprisoned ballsack with his fingers. Even Hoss got involved, tickling the soles of Scott’s feet with his massive hands. Scott convulsed with laughter and frustration while Danny attached clothespins to his bro’s nipples and handed out Sharpies to the group. In a manner of seconds, Scott was covered in crude graffiti and dick picks from forehead to calves. And there wasn't a thing he could do about it. His brother's tight ropework rendered him helpless to stop his humiliation.

“Damn it, this should have been Hoss!” Scott thought (when Brett and Hoss’s tickle attack subsided enough for him to form clear thoughts, that is). Satisfied that Scott had suffered enough, the four remaining players high-fived and made their way back to the poker table. “It’s gonna be a long night,” Scott realized.

Coming Soon: Strip Poker – part 2
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gag1195
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Post by gag1195 »

Oh boy, our pledges don't know what they are getting into! I never did frats or greek life when I was in college, but damn, if any had been like this, I really missed my chance!

I'm very torn between wanting Shane to win and get first choice, and Shane losing so we can see the dreamboat nicely bound and gagged! Amazing work! Eagerly awaiting part 2 of this interlude!
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Volobond
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Post by Volobond »

Lol these older Bros are all such dreamboats... in the looks department, at least. I love their choice of game and the openness of their appreciation for the real meaning of the TUG acronym! ;) 8-)

I think Brett and Shane are my favorites - although smoking is a major turn-off for me I have to admit Scott is cuuuute. I'm glad Scott ended up the first victim if Strip Poker Plus!
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wataru14
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Post by wataru14 »

[mention]gag1195[/mention] I didn't do the frat thing, either, but had friends who did. They were always very secretive about what went on in the house, and this is the kind of stuff my wild imagination came up with to fill in the blanks.

[mention]Volobond[/mention] Just the looks department? Lol. Well, you're seeing them in competition mode after a long day, so niceness isn't necessarily on their minds. They're not as green and innocent as the pledges, but there's more to them than appearances.

And as for Scott's smoking, we all have our own turn-ons and turn-offs. Squirrel has cigars, bondagefreak has puffy jackets. That happens to be one of mine. Cest la vie. 😉

If you're a fan of Brett and Shane, you may find part 2 VERY interesting.
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george_bound
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Post by george_bound »

Hmmm, one bound stud down, three more to go. Can't wait to see the full array of strip poker losers! 8-) This whole chapter was sooo good in its description and dialogue of the bros, are you sure you weren't in a frat!

Wouldn't it be fun for Hoss to be Cody's BB... just saying... yee-haw :twisted:

BTW, Brett is my favourite bro... for now :)
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DeeperThanRed
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

Frat boys' horsing around sure is something... and it's not over yet!

It was a lot of fun seeing Scott getting taken down a peg, especially since he signed up for it. :lol:
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Love your take on the "Eight ball in the corner pocket," [mention]wataru14[/mention] :)
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