Hope the M/M fans enjoy this one. . .
“Git along, little doggie!” Gary punctuated his command with a brisk stroke of the Pledge Paddle. Chris yelped and jumped as it thwacked against his bare buttocks. He moved his legs faster.
“Maybe he’s having second thoughts,” Steve snickered.
“Think so?” Gary replied. “Is that right, little doggie? Have you changed your mind about joining Scarlet Skull?” Again he thwacked Chris’ buttocks. “Speak up there!”
“No sir, I have not!” Chris replied in the approved manner. “I am ready for my ordeal!”
“That’s what they ALL say,” chuckled Gary, who was this year’s Pledge Master. “But sometimes they change their minds when they see what we have in store for them.”
Chris swallowed. At the moment, he could see nothing. As was the time-honored custom, he was being led naked to the Chamber of the Ordeal, his wrists tied before him and a blindfold over his eyes. Steve, the Chapter President, guided him along with a hand on his elbow, while Gary followed close behind, paddle at the ready.
It was all in fun, of course. The Pledge Paddle didn’t hurt—well, not much—and whatever might happen, it was nothing that plenty of guys hadn’t gone through in their time. Scarlet Skull was the most prestigious, albeit mysterious, student organization on campus. When he’d been asked to pledge SS, he’d jumped at the chance. They’d put him and the other pledges through two weeks of routine harassment. Chris smiled slightly recalling how he’s spent the evening of this nineteenth birthday scrubbing out the upstairs back bathroom of SS House with a toothbrush. But in a few more minutes all of that would be behind him.
THWACK!!! “Whoa up there, little doggie!” There was an ugly, gloating note in Gary’s voice. “We have ARRIVED at the Chamber of the Ordeal! Get down on your KNEES!” THWACK!!!
Chris obeyed with alacrity. That last stroke of the Pledge Paddle had really smarted, he thought resentfully. Gary was such an asshole. That was probably why they’d picked him to be the Pledge Master.
Then rough hands gripped his thighs and pulled them apart. He felt leather straps tighten over his legs, just below the knees. His bound wrists were attached to something and then his arms were being raised over his head just high enough to tense his torso without straining it. Finally, the blindfold was removed.
Chris wasn’t sure what he’d expected—something arcane and cabbalistic, perhaps, with secret symbols and flickering candles. Instead he found himself in a prosaic basement chamber with green-painted concrete walls and a white ceiling. The concrete floor was also painted white. He noticed that his knees rested on a narrow strip of indoor-outdoor carpet. The straps around his calves were firmly bolted to the floor. Above his head was the pulley with which his arms had been hoisted. A gray metal storage cabinet, flanked by a pair of three-legged wooden stools, stood against the wall to his right. A coiled green hose was hung from a hook next to the cabinet.
Steve and Gary were standing in front of him, dressed in their black ceremonial hooded robes of office with the Scarlet Skull emblem, but no one else was present. They smiled at him in a way that Chris found rather disagreeable.
“Welcome, Pledge,” Gary intoned. “State your intentions. Are you prepared for your Ordeal?”
“Sir, I am!” Chris responded smartly.
“You can still back out,” Steve reminded him.
“Sir, I am prepared!
“Then so be it,” Steve said. He stepped aside and nodded to Gary.
The Pledge Master looked Chris over. “Well, well, well,” he sneered. “So this little doggie wants to become our brother. But is he worthy? That’s what we’re going to find out tonight. If the little doggie wags his tail and does his business properly, why, he’s home free.”
“My b-b-business?” Chris stammered.
“Silence!” THWACK!!! “Do NOT speak unless COMMANDED to speak, little doggie! Nod if you understand me.”
Chris nodded, struggling manfully to suppress the urge to wiggle his stinging behind.
“Good!” Gary chuckled. “And now that I have your full and undivided attention, little doggie, listen and learn the details of your impending Ordeal. Look there!”
Chris’ eyes followed Gary’s pointing finger. At first he saw nothing, but then. . .what WAS that across the floor? A painted line? Yes, it was a painted red line stretching from wall to wall, perhaps six feet in front of him. Immediately behind it was a floor drain.
“It’s very simple, little doggie.” Gary touched the naked pledge’s nose with the paddle. “Spurt across the line for us and you’re in. Understand? You have permission to speak.”
“Sp-sp-spurt? I don’t get it.” Chris swallowed. “What do you MEAN?”
“I mean SPURT, little doggie.” Gary shook his head. “As in CUM. If you manage to spurt over the line, you’re in. Wimp out and you’re history. That’s the Ordeal.”
“But how. . .I mean, I can’t. . .how am I supposed to DO it!” Chris cried. “It’s impossible!”
“Sorry we couldn’t get Pam Anderson to stroke it for you, little doggie. She’s all booked up this semester.” Gary laughed and Steve joined him. “So I guess you’re going to have to use your imagination. Tell you what. You’re on the soccer team. Think of those times when you’ve seen other guys all naked, like in the shower. That do anything for you?”
“Let me GO!” Chris yelled. “I’ve changed my MIND!”
“Too late,” Steve replied. “You had your chance to back out.”
“Help!” Chris screamed. “Somebody HELP me!”
“I like it when they panic a little,” Gary said to Steve.
“He says he wants help,” Steve observed.
“Well, I suppose we COULD lend a helping hand.”
“He might even like it.”
“Would you LIKE that?” Gary asked. He grinned down at the naked pledge. “You look the type. All slender and smooth-skinned. Big brown eyes. Kind of pretty. I bet you’ve at least jerked off a few times, thinking about doing it with another guy. But right now we haven’t got time for you to resolve your sexual identity crisis. So tell me this, little doggie: Are you ticklish?”
“Ticklish?” A chill crept down Chris’ spine. “No! No I’m NOT!”
But he WAS ticklish—horribly, UNBEARABLY ticklish. How had they found out? Chris was unable to suppress a shiver of terror. His skin crawled with dread anticipation of the threatened torment. He opened his mouth to beg for mercy, but that might simply urge them on.
Steve opened the door of the cabinet and rummaged around inside. After a moment he withdrew a pair of long, pointed, very stiff feathers. “These should do the trick,” he said to Gary. “Our little friend here strikes me as the sensitive type.”
With a businesslike air, Gary and Steve placed the stools on either side of Chris, and sat down. Each held a feather. The Pledge Master looked at the Chapter President and raised an eyebrow. Steve nodded. Together they swept their feathers up Chris’ flanks to his tender armpits!
“GAAAA-HAAAA!!!” Chris squealed. He tried to jerk his arms down, but that was an exercise in futility. He tried to writhe his torso away from the maddening caress of the feathers, but that did no good either. Bound in place, the naked pledge was utterly defenseless against this merciless, ticklish assault.
Steve swept his feather back and forth between Chris’ elbow and his ribcage, while Gary concentrated on the armpit area. Together, their excruciating ministrations sparked sensations the likes of which poor Chris had never imagined possible. Fierce thrills of ticklish sensation raced along his nerves, convulsing his muscles and roughening his skin with gooseflesh. A loose, greasy sensation bubbled at the bottom of his belly. His slender body broke out in a delicate sweat.
“So how about it, little doggie?” Gary snickered. “Are you starting to get that loving feeling?”
“EEEEEEEE-HEEEEEEEE!!!” Chris screamed. “EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEE!!!”
“I guess we just need to tickle him harder,” Steve opined. “And longer.”
“No problemo,” Gary replied. “Speaking as the Pledge Master, I’m always happy to go the extra mile for a promising candidate like or friend Chris, here.”
While they chatted, Chris squirmed and struggled and sweated and LAUGHED. He laughed until his face was bright pink and his belly ached with the effort. He’d have begged for mercy, but he had no breath to spare for that. All the oxygen that his laboring lungs could suck in was needed to power that unending, agonizing, maddening LAUGHTER—!
“YAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAA!!!” he bellowed. “AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!! HAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!!”
But most horrible of all, this torture by tickling was beginning to produce the effect promised by his tormentors. Deep down inside, at the very root of his being, something had awakened. It was a quixotic feeling, a mixture of joy and pain. Slowly, insidiously, it was creeping through his belly and his balls. . .
With a grunt, the naked pledge wiggled his hips.
“Say, I think we’re finally getting a rise out of him,” Gary observed. “How about it, little doggie? Are you starting to get with the program here?”
Chris shook his head, denying what was in fact becoming increasingly obvious. It was all so humiliating, disgusting. . .and wonderful. He wiggled his hips again, harder.
Steve and Gary suspended their ticklish attack. “Well, will you look at THAT!” Steve exclaimed. “He’s all EXCITED now!”
“Shower room fantasies,” Gary chuckled. “Works every time.”
“Please!” Chris gasped. His now-rigid cock quivered as he wiggled his hips. “Oh PLEASE!”
“This little doggie is nice and polite, isn’t he?” Gary said.
“Yeah,” Steve replied. Maybe we should get Miss Manners to stroke it for him.”
They both laughed. Then they resumed the torture!
The gross UNFAIRNESS of it wrenched a sob from Chris’ throat. He was READY! He could DO it! But they just kept tickling and tickling and TICKLING him—!
The stiff feathers swept up and down his quivering flanks, from armpits to hips and back again, until Chris thought he’d lose his MIND unless they stopped. But they didn’t stop for many minutes and by the time he was granted another respite, the naked pledge was wheezing with exhaustion.
His cock, however, was still rigid and quivering.
“I think he’s ready now,” Steve said. “You want the back or the front?”
“The front.”
“Okay, then let’s get busy. We have three more to do tonight.”
Steve moved his stool to a position behind Chris; Gary stayed where he was. There was a brief pause, then the torment began anew.
Steve dipped his feather down between Chris’ trembling thighs to stroke his balls! He shrieked like a girl as this intimate violation sent a powerful pulse of ticklish sensation from his tense balls to the root of his puckered asshole and the very tip of his yearning joystick. And a moment later, Gary began to run HIS feather back and forth along the underside of the naked pledge’s pulsing cock!
“AAAAAAAAH-HAAAA!!!” Chris gasped. “UUUUM-UUUUM-UUUUMPH!!!”
An absolutely MAGNIFICENT sensation began to build in Chris’ balls. He undulated his hips in a frantic effort meet the caressed of the two feathers that were driving him to a frenzy of erotic hilarity. It TICKLED like MAD and it felt so GOOD and it was driving him fucking NUTS—!
“YAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA!!!” he screamed. “PLEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEESE!!!”
A clear, tiny drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip of his shaft, teased out by Gary’s dancing feather.
“UGH!” Chris grunted. “UGH-AAAH-UGH-AAAH-UGH-UGH-UGH-UGH!!!”
“Makes you cringe all OVER, doesn’t it, little doggie?” Gary asked with a leer. “Makes you just want to jump out of your skin, eh? So are you getting CLOSE?”
“I thing maybe we should give him a break,” Steve suggested.
“OH NO!!!” Chris screamed. “OH-HO-NO-HO-OH-NO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO!!!” He rotated his hips, desperately demanding a continuation of the unbearable, delicious torture that was driving ever closer to the brink of total orgasmic release. “HIIIEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HIIIEEE!!!”
“Maybe we should,” Gary agreed, and he raised his feather to stroke the naked pledge’s convulsing belly!
“EEEEEEEEE-HEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE!!!” Chris screeched as the feather circled his belly button, then probed it. “IT TICK-HICK-EEEE-HICK-EEEE-HIIIEEE-HICK-HICKLES!!!”
“Yeah, well, that’s kind of the IDEA, little doggie,” Gary nodded. “And I’d say that you’re just about tickled PINK.”
Chris could only agree. Steve’s feather was still stroking the naked pledge’s balls, with an occasional shift to his puckered asshole that made Chris thrust back as if to invite a deeper, more intimate caress. He laughed as hard as he could, hoping against hope that by doing so he might persuade Gary to resume the torture that he craved above all. His cock was stiffer than ever, its swollen head now lightly oiled with pre-cum. But the sweet release he so desperately desired seemed as impossibly far away as ever. . .
“It’s getting late,” Steve observed.
“I know, I know,” Gary agreed. “And I have a date with Heather tonight.”
“Then we’d better get busy.”
“Guess so.” Gary suspended his attack on Chris’ belly button. “How about it, little doggie? Ready to show us what you’re made of?”
“Yes!” Chris cried. “Oh YES!”
“That’s my boy.” Gary brought the feather down and began to tickle the super-sensitive tip of Chris’ throbbing shaft, while Steve continued to stroke the naked pledge’s balls.
The muscles of Chris’ belly, butt and thighs tensed in anticipation as the glorious, lustful sensation in his balls intensified mightily, creeping up his cock and down to his asshole. His laughter gave way to a long moan of need and pleasure. The feather swirled around and around his yearning joystick, driving him fucking MAD, driving him right the fuck out of his fucking MIND—!
“GAAAAHAAAA!!!” Chris screamed. Then, with a frantic wiggle of his hips, the naked pledge began cumming his brains out!
The first spasm tore a loud, passionate grunt from his throat as it sent a tidal wave of ecstasy roaring through his body. Steve and Gary scooted back a bit to watch as Chris writhed in the throes of orgasmic pleasure. “Whoa,” Gary commented. “Good effort, there, little doggie.”
It took Chris half a dozen spurts to empty his balls and than he just hung there, panting for breath, too exhausted to raise his head to see if he’d managed to squirt over the line. After a moment he felt the tension on his arms ease as they were lowered. The straps around his legs were unbuckled and his wrists were untied. Gary and Steve grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him to his felt. They were both grinning.
“Welcome to Scarlet Skull,” Steve said. “You made it!”
“I did?” Chris replied in a faltering voice.
“You sure did,” Gary said. “First two spurts over the line, my man. Most excellent.”
“So what now?” Chris asked. His nerves were still tingling from the orgasm that has just wracked his body.
“So you you’re an SS brother.” Gary hooked a thumb at the cabinet. “There’s an extra robe of office in there. Why don’t you slip into it?”
As Chris put on the rope, Gary looked at his watch. “Shit! Look at the time. I’m supposed to meet Heather in half an hour, and we still have one pledge to do.”
“Maybe Chris would be willing to help you out,” Steve suggested.
“Good idea!” Gary turned to the new SS brother. “How about it, my man? Care to fill in as Deputy Pledge Master?”
Chris hesitated for a moment. The thought of wielding Gary’s feather against some other poor, naked pledge was a bit kinky, after all. But on the other hand, every pledge had to endure the Ordeal. And wasn’t it better to give than to receive, after all. . .?
“Hey, always happy to help out a brother,” Chris said with a smile that broadened as Gary handed him the Pledge Paddle and the long, stiff, pointed feather.
Steve was whistling as he uncoiled the hose, turned on the water and began hosing down the floor. “The next one’s the last one,” he said over his shoulder.
“Then we can take our time,” Chris replied with a sly smile.
“Git along, little doggie!” Gary punctuated his command with a brisk stroke of the Pledge Paddle. Chris yelped and jumped as it thwacked against his bare buttocks. He moved his legs faster.
“Maybe he’s having second thoughts,” Steve snickered.
“Think so?” Gary replied. “Is that right, little doggie? Have you changed your mind about joining Scarlet Skull?” Again he thwacked Chris’ buttocks. “Speak up there!”
“No sir, I have not!” Chris replied in the approved manner. “I am ready for my ordeal!”
“That’s what they ALL say,” chuckled Gary, who was this year’s Pledge Master. “But sometimes they change their minds when they see what we have in store for them.”
Chris swallowed. At the moment, he could see nothing. As was the time-honored custom, he was being led naked to the Chamber of the Ordeal, his wrists tied before him and a blindfold over his eyes. Steve, the Chapter President, guided him along with a hand on his elbow, while Gary followed close behind, paddle at the ready.
It was all in fun, of course. The Pledge Paddle didn’t hurt—well, not much—and whatever might happen, it was nothing that plenty of guys hadn’t gone through in their time. Scarlet Skull was the most prestigious, albeit mysterious, student organization on campus. When he’d been asked to pledge SS, he’d jumped at the chance. They’d put him and the other pledges through two weeks of routine harassment. Chris smiled slightly recalling how he’s spent the evening of this nineteenth birthday scrubbing out the upstairs back bathroom of SS House with a toothbrush. But in a few more minutes all of that would be behind him.
THWACK!!! “Whoa up there, little doggie!” There was an ugly, gloating note in Gary’s voice. “We have ARRIVED at the Chamber of the Ordeal! Get down on your KNEES!” THWACK!!!
Chris obeyed with alacrity. That last stroke of the Pledge Paddle had really smarted, he thought resentfully. Gary was such an asshole. That was probably why they’d picked him to be the Pledge Master.
Then rough hands gripped his thighs and pulled them apart. He felt leather straps tighten over his legs, just below the knees. His bound wrists were attached to something and then his arms were being raised over his head just high enough to tense his torso without straining it. Finally, the blindfold was removed.
Chris wasn’t sure what he’d expected—something arcane and cabbalistic, perhaps, with secret symbols and flickering candles. Instead he found himself in a prosaic basement chamber with green-painted concrete walls and a white ceiling. The concrete floor was also painted white. He noticed that his knees rested on a narrow strip of indoor-outdoor carpet. The straps around his calves were firmly bolted to the floor. Above his head was the pulley with which his arms had been hoisted. A gray metal storage cabinet, flanked by a pair of three-legged wooden stools, stood against the wall to his right. A coiled green hose was hung from a hook next to the cabinet.
Steve and Gary were standing in front of him, dressed in their black ceremonial hooded robes of office with the Scarlet Skull emblem, but no one else was present. They smiled at him in a way that Chris found rather disagreeable.
“Welcome, Pledge,” Gary intoned. “State your intentions. Are you prepared for your Ordeal?”
“Sir, I am!” Chris responded smartly.
“You can still back out,” Steve reminded him.
“Sir, I am prepared!
“Then so be it,” Steve said. He stepped aside and nodded to Gary.
The Pledge Master looked Chris over. “Well, well, well,” he sneered. “So this little doggie wants to become our brother. But is he worthy? That’s what we’re going to find out tonight. If the little doggie wags his tail and does his business properly, why, he’s home free.”
“My b-b-business?” Chris stammered.
“Silence!” THWACK!!! “Do NOT speak unless COMMANDED to speak, little doggie! Nod if you understand me.”
Chris nodded, struggling manfully to suppress the urge to wiggle his stinging behind.
“Good!” Gary chuckled. “And now that I have your full and undivided attention, little doggie, listen and learn the details of your impending Ordeal. Look there!”
Chris’ eyes followed Gary’s pointing finger. At first he saw nothing, but then. . .what WAS that across the floor? A painted line? Yes, it was a painted red line stretching from wall to wall, perhaps six feet in front of him. Immediately behind it was a floor drain.
“It’s very simple, little doggie.” Gary touched the naked pledge’s nose with the paddle. “Spurt across the line for us and you’re in. Understand? You have permission to speak.”
“Sp-sp-spurt? I don’t get it.” Chris swallowed. “What do you MEAN?”
“I mean SPURT, little doggie.” Gary shook his head. “As in CUM. If you manage to spurt over the line, you’re in. Wimp out and you’re history. That’s the Ordeal.”
“But how. . .I mean, I can’t. . .how am I supposed to DO it!” Chris cried. “It’s impossible!”
“Sorry we couldn’t get Pam Anderson to stroke it for you, little doggie. She’s all booked up this semester.” Gary laughed and Steve joined him. “So I guess you’re going to have to use your imagination. Tell you what. You’re on the soccer team. Think of those times when you’ve seen other guys all naked, like in the shower. That do anything for you?”
“Let me GO!” Chris yelled. “I’ve changed my MIND!”
“Too late,” Steve replied. “You had your chance to back out.”
“Help!” Chris screamed. “Somebody HELP me!”
“I like it when they panic a little,” Gary said to Steve.
“He says he wants help,” Steve observed.
“Well, I suppose we COULD lend a helping hand.”
“He might even like it.”
“Would you LIKE that?” Gary asked. He grinned down at the naked pledge. “You look the type. All slender and smooth-skinned. Big brown eyes. Kind of pretty. I bet you’ve at least jerked off a few times, thinking about doing it with another guy. But right now we haven’t got time for you to resolve your sexual identity crisis. So tell me this, little doggie: Are you ticklish?”
“Ticklish?” A chill crept down Chris’ spine. “No! No I’m NOT!”
But he WAS ticklish—horribly, UNBEARABLY ticklish. How had they found out? Chris was unable to suppress a shiver of terror. His skin crawled with dread anticipation of the threatened torment. He opened his mouth to beg for mercy, but that might simply urge them on.
Steve opened the door of the cabinet and rummaged around inside. After a moment he withdrew a pair of long, pointed, very stiff feathers. “These should do the trick,” he said to Gary. “Our little friend here strikes me as the sensitive type.”
With a businesslike air, Gary and Steve placed the stools on either side of Chris, and sat down. Each held a feather. The Pledge Master looked at the Chapter President and raised an eyebrow. Steve nodded. Together they swept their feathers up Chris’ flanks to his tender armpits!
“GAAAA-HAAAA!!!” Chris squealed. He tried to jerk his arms down, but that was an exercise in futility. He tried to writhe his torso away from the maddening caress of the feathers, but that did no good either. Bound in place, the naked pledge was utterly defenseless against this merciless, ticklish assault.
Steve swept his feather back and forth between Chris’ elbow and his ribcage, while Gary concentrated on the armpit area. Together, their excruciating ministrations sparked sensations the likes of which poor Chris had never imagined possible. Fierce thrills of ticklish sensation raced along his nerves, convulsing his muscles and roughening his skin with gooseflesh. A loose, greasy sensation bubbled at the bottom of his belly. His slender body broke out in a delicate sweat.
“So how about it, little doggie?” Gary snickered. “Are you starting to get that loving feeling?”
“EEEEEEEE-HEEEEEEEE!!!” Chris screamed. “EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEE!!!”
“I guess we just need to tickle him harder,” Steve opined. “And longer.”
“No problemo,” Gary replied. “Speaking as the Pledge Master, I’m always happy to go the extra mile for a promising candidate like or friend Chris, here.”
While they chatted, Chris squirmed and struggled and sweated and LAUGHED. He laughed until his face was bright pink and his belly ached with the effort. He’d have begged for mercy, but he had no breath to spare for that. All the oxygen that his laboring lungs could suck in was needed to power that unending, agonizing, maddening LAUGHTER—!
“YAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAA!!!” he bellowed. “AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!! HAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!!”
But most horrible of all, this torture by tickling was beginning to produce the effect promised by his tormentors. Deep down inside, at the very root of his being, something had awakened. It was a quixotic feeling, a mixture of joy and pain. Slowly, insidiously, it was creeping through his belly and his balls. . .
With a grunt, the naked pledge wiggled his hips.
“Say, I think we’re finally getting a rise out of him,” Gary observed. “How about it, little doggie? Are you starting to get with the program here?”
Chris shook his head, denying what was in fact becoming increasingly obvious. It was all so humiliating, disgusting. . .and wonderful. He wiggled his hips again, harder.
Steve and Gary suspended their ticklish attack. “Well, will you look at THAT!” Steve exclaimed. “He’s all EXCITED now!”
“Shower room fantasies,” Gary chuckled. “Works every time.”
“Please!” Chris gasped. His now-rigid cock quivered as he wiggled his hips. “Oh PLEASE!”
“This little doggie is nice and polite, isn’t he?” Gary said.
“Yeah,” Steve replied. Maybe we should get Miss Manners to stroke it for him.”
They both laughed. Then they resumed the torture!
The gross UNFAIRNESS of it wrenched a sob from Chris’ throat. He was READY! He could DO it! But they just kept tickling and tickling and TICKLING him—!
The stiff feathers swept up and down his quivering flanks, from armpits to hips and back again, until Chris thought he’d lose his MIND unless they stopped. But they didn’t stop for many minutes and by the time he was granted another respite, the naked pledge was wheezing with exhaustion.
His cock, however, was still rigid and quivering.
“I think he’s ready now,” Steve said. “You want the back or the front?”
“The front.”
“Okay, then let’s get busy. We have three more to do tonight.”
Steve moved his stool to a position behind Chris; Gary stayed where he was. There was a brief pause, then the torment began anew.
Steve dipped his feather down between Chris’ trembling thighs to stroke his balls! He shrieked like a girl as this intimate violation sent a powerful pulse of ticklish sensation from his tense balls to the root of his puckered asshole and the very tip of his yearning joystick. And a moment later, Gary began to run HIS feather back and forth along the underside of the naked pledge’s pulsing cock!
“AAAAAAAAH-HAAAA!!!” Chris gasped. “UUUUM-UUUUM-UUUUMPH!!!”
An absolutely MAGNIFICENT sensation began to build in Chris’ balls. He undulated his hips in a frantic effort meet the caressed of the two feathers that were driving him to a frenzy of erotic hilarity. It TICKLED like MAD and it felt so GOOD and it was driving him fucking NUTS—!
“YAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA!!!” he screamed. “PLEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEESE!!!”
A clear, tiny drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip of his shaft, teased out by Gary’s dancing feather.
“UGH!” Chris grunted. “UGH-AAAH-UGH-AAAH-UGH-UGH-UGH-UGH!!!”
“Makes you cringe all OVER, doesn’t it, little doggie?” Gary asked with a leer. “Makes you just want to jump out of your skin, eh? So are you getting CLOSE?”
“I thing maybe we should give him a break,” Steve suggested.
“OH NO!!!” Chris screamed. “OH-HO-NO-HO-OH-NO-HO-OH-NO-HO-HO!!!” He rotated his hips, desperately demanding a continuation of the unbearable, delicious torture that was driving ever closer to the brink of total orgasmic release. “HIIIEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HIIIEEE!!!”
“Maybe we should,” Gary agreed, and he raised his feather to stroke the naked pledge’s convulsing belly!
“EEEEEEEEE-HEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE!!!” Chris screeched as the feather circled his belly button, then probed it. “IT TICK-HICK-EEEE-HICK-EEEE-HIIIEEE-HICK-HICKLES!!!”
“Yeah, well, that’s kind of the IDEA, little doggie,” Gary nodded. “And I’d say that you’re just about tickled PINK.”
Chris could only agree. Steve’s feather was still stroking the naked pledge’s balls, with an occasional shift to his puckered asshole that made Chris thrust back as if to invite a deeper, more intimate caress. He laughed as hard as he could, hoping against hope that by doing so he might persuade Gary to resume the torture that he craved above all. His cock was stiffer than ever, its swollen head now lightly oiled with pre-cum. But the sweet release he so desperately desired seemed as impossibly far away as ever. . .
“It’s getting late,” Steve observed.
“I know, I know,” Gary agreed. “And I have a date with Heather tonight.”
“Then we’d better get busy.”
“Guess so.” Gary suspended his attack on Chris’ belly button. “How about it, little doggie? Ready to show us what you’re made of?”
“Yes!” Chris cried. “Oh YES!”
“That’s my boy.” Gary brought the feather down and began to tickle the super-sensitive tip of Chris’ throbbing shaft, while Steve continued to stroke the naked pledge’s balls.
The muscles of Chris’ belly, butt and thighs tensed in anticipation as the glorious, lustful sensation in his balls intensified mightily, creeping up his cock and down to his asshole. His laughter gave way to a long moan of need and pleasure. The feather swirled around and around his yearning joystick, driving him fucking MAD, driving him right the fuck out of his fucking MIND—!
“GAAAAHAAAA!!!” Chris screamed. Then, with a frantic wiggle of his hips, the naked pledge began cumming his brains out!
The first spasm tore a loud, passionate grunt from his throat as it sent a tidal wave of ecstasy roaring through his body. Steve and Gary scooted back a bit to watch as Chris writhed in the throes of orgasmic pleasure. “Whoa,” Gary commented. “Good effort, there, little doggie.”
It took Chris half a dozen spurts to empty his balls and than he just hung there, panting for breath, too exhausted to raise his head to see if he’d managed to squirt over the line. After a moment he felt the tension on his arms ease as they were lowered. The straps around his legs were unbuckled and his wrists were untied. Gary and Steve grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him to his felt. They were both grinning.
“Welcome to Scarlet Skull,” Steve said. “You made it!”
“I did?” Chris replied in a faltering voice.
“You sure did,” Gary said. “First two spurts over the line, my man. Most excellent.”
“So what now?” Chris asked. His nerves were still tingling from the orgasm that has just wracked his body.
“So you you’re an SS brother.” Gary hooked a thumb at the cabinet. “There’s an extra robe of office in there. Why don’t you slip into it?”
As Chris put on the rope, Gary looked at his watch. “Shit! Look at the time. I’m supposed to meet Heather in half an hour, and we still have one pledge to do.”
“Maybe Chris would be willing to help you out,” Steve suggested.
“Good idea!” Gary turned to the new SS brother. “How about it, my man? Care to fill in as Deputy Pledge Master?”
Chris hesitated for a moment. The thought of wielding Gary’s feather against some other poor, naked pledge was a bit kinky, after all. But on the other hand, every pledge had to endure the Ordeal. And wasn’t it better to give than to receive, after all. . .?
“Hey, always happy to help out a brother,” Chris said with a smile that broadened as Gary handed him the Pledge Paddle and the long, stiff, pointed feather.
Steve was whistling as he uncoiled the hose, turned on the water and began hosing down the floor. “The next one’s the last one,” he said over his shoulder.
“Then we can take our time,” Chris replied with a sly smile.
Maybe Heather & her/their girlfriends could learn/already know the Secret of the Scarlet Skull (sounds like a Hardy Boys book 
