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A lot of the brothers hurt me over the course of my year as Fag Pledge. Some of them thought it was funny; some were just bullies; some saw it as perfectly routine; some got off on it; some used pain as punishment; some saw it as part of a game; and some just seized the chance to hurt someone because it was a novelty, because there are very few times and circumstances in your life when hurting another person is allowed and even encouraged. I accepted all these reasons. I didn't necessarily like being hurt, though I sometimes savoured the feeling of having overcome the pain or of having been useful to a brother, but I accepted it as reasonable and natural, something you might currently find hard to believe. There was only one brother in all this who struck me as an actual full-blooded sadist, and that was Cole. I hated Cole from the first night when he sprayed me with rubbing alcohol in the stocks. I hated him all year. And I hate him now. I would dread being summoned by him, dread the inventive and cruel pains he delighted in inflicting upon me. He was cruel beyond the limits of the other brothers and I think most of them thought he went too far.
So, if you've heard my story so far and enjoyed it, but aren't interested in large amounts of pain and outright cruelty, then I'm sorry, but I need to tell you everything that happened and that includes my sessions with Cole.
Cole was a slight, slightly effeminate brother. His fine, pale hair contrasted with red lips and a semi-permanent flush to his cheeks, as though he'd always just come in from a brisk walk in a cold breeze. He was about my height, and looked like innocence itself. This look was deceiving and belied the cruelty beneath the surface.
I entered his room, after the perfunctory knock, and saw him lazing in an armchair, one long leg draped over the arm. I noticed that, unusually for non-committee brothers, there was only one bed in this room. He was fingering a whip, running its length between his fingers and smiling affably at me.
`Stand there, Fag. Hands behind your head. Legs apart', he commanded, his voice harsh and slightly jagged with suppressed excitement.
I assumed the position he demanded of me and waited while his eyes roamed across my exposed body, not unlike a butcher examining a piece of meat and deciding where to make the cut. Or a torturer deciding where the insertion of pins would cause the most pain. Eventually, he stood up, unfolding himself from the chair with an elegance all his own. He approached me, and I flinched away from him, already scared of this boy. He saw the flinch and smiled, running his knuckles down my face and along my chest, pressing his body close to mine so that I could feel the heat of his skin beneath his shirt.
I'm going to have so much fun with you, Fag'. There was no pretence, as there was with some of the other brothers, that we' would have fun. Where we were concerned, fun was only for Cole, and if I ever had fun in his presence then I knew it would ruin his own.
He spent about five minutes circling me, running his hands over my body, prodding and poking me, and I felt more objectified than at any other point in my life.
Then when he was behind me I felt an object being pressed against my shoulder blade and I leapt forward, crying out in pain as an electric shock coursed through my body.
Stay fucking still, Fag' Cole said, anger in his voice now. If you can't take this then you're really going to hate it when I strap pads to your cock, to your balls, and to your nipples. Then we'll really see you jerk'.
I apologised and stepped back to my position. He shocked me again and again I spasmed forward. Even before I had completed the movement, Cole had kicked me in the balls from behind, knocking me to my knees.
When I tell you to stay still, Fag, you stay fucking still,' He said, grabbing my hair in fists and slapping my face back and forth. He pulled me back to my feet. Clearly you're a bad and disobedient Fag who needs to be broken to the will of his superiors'. As he was speaking, he had tied my hands tightly behind my back, and was in the process of cuffing my ankles to a spreader bar that kept them a certain length apart. Once done, he padlocked each cuff to a little hoop set into the floor, which I assumed he must have installed specially. I thought I was as locked in place as I could be, but Cole disagreed. He tied a noose around my neck, threw it over a beam installed in the ceiling and pulled until I was on tiptoes, as far as the spreader bar would let me and half choking, able to pull in enough air to stay conscious and survive, but not to be comfortable or feel safe. I also knew I would never be able to say Howitzer in this condition.
You see, Fag, I gave you the chance to stay still, to remain comfortable while I had my fun, but you had to abuse my kindness and avoid my toys. Now you'll have to be strung up like this whenever I want to play with you, just to ensure you don't ruin it. It's your own fault, Fag'. He said this through a grin, clearly loving that he'd put me in this condition and I knew he'd always planned this, would have done it even if I had remained solidly still. I couldn't answer him, but I choked in response and he pretended I had. Yes Fag, I know. You don't like it, but I don't give a fuck. Now let's see how much we can hurt you before I get bored'.
He then took both my nipples between his thumb and forefinger and stated grinding them between his digits, twisting and crushing them between his fingers. At first he was looking straight into my eyes, smiling as he did this, as I squirmed and gasped, both in pain and for air. As my whimpers and strangled screams went on, his gaze fell and was fixed on my nipples being tortured by his hands. He seemed transfixed by the pain he was causing me, his eyes sparkling ever brighter as my nipples turned red and tears started to leak from my eyes and fall from my chin onto his pain-inflicting hands.
If I could have collapsed to the ground, I would have, so intense was the pain. But the restraints held me firmly in place, stressing my muscles as my body tried to escape from this cruel boy who seemed to take the same pleasure from inflicting pain as a child does in killing ants with a microscope.
Time didn't seem to mean much when the pain was so high, so I can't say for sure how long he tortured my nipples for before he got bored, and I say `got bored' advisedly, and stopped. I was only able to force strangled screams out of my mouth, but my vocal chords felt raw from trying to articulate my agony.
Once Cole had released my nipples, he picked up the whip he had been fondling when I came in and held it up to my lips, indicating that I should kiss it. I did, as best as I could given my predicament. In response, Cole snarled and slapped me. Then he drew back the whip and lashed me across my chest, leaving a vivid red stripe. Call me foolish, but I was grateful. It hurt, of course it did, but it didn't hurt as much as my nipples so I was pleased he was whipping my chest. He drew back his arm a second time and lashed me again, this time placing the whip just below the stripe his first lash had left. He proceeded to continue this pattern all the way down my front, from just below my neck to my knees. Each las left a bright red stripe, and each gap left a pale white stripe, so that I looked like some malevolent and alien zebra-boy. The pain of each lash was intense, but it was not built upon, each strike hitting a different part of me, so it was bearable. I hadn't forgotten my lessons though and so acted up the pain, eager that Cole should know, or think, I was in great pain so that he might be satisfied and not need to inflict more.
When he had been down my body once, he stood back to admire his handywork and smiled the first true smile I'd seen on his face. He breathed, `beautiful' and ran his hand down my chest, pushing his body into mine so that his crotch was on my thigh. His cock was soft. I don't know why but this chilled me to my bone. I had assumed that Cole was getting off on this, that it turned him on, but apparently not. What he was doing to me wasn't sexual for him. I prayed I never found out what it was.
He withdrew his body from mine and lashed me again. His aim and skill was astonishing. I could acknowledge that even as I was the victim of it. He managed to land the whip exactly along the stripe he had hit the first time round, doubling the pain with each fresh strike, and embedding the red mark further into my skin. Again and again and again. He went through this process 5 times, lashing these marks into me, making me as is artwork. By the last time, the whip landing on already lashed, sensitive, fragile skin was excruciating and I was striving to wiggle away from this sadistic bastard, but his restraints held me tight and I couldn't.
Once the final fifth lash had marked my lower thighs, Cole stood back to admire his work and seemed pleased with the results. Very nice' he muttered, clearly more to himself than to me. He walked slowly around me, dragging his fingers across my skin, making it crawl and goosepimple, his overly sharp nails scratching lightly. That'll do for today, Fag' he said, boredom dripping from his voice suddenly. `I need to rest'. With that he slunk over to the bed and lay down on his side, eyes fixed on me, tied naked and striped in his room. He seemed to take pleasure contrasting his own comfort with my pain and discomfort for a smile lingered on his lips as his eyes slowly started to droop. Before long he was asleep, as though the supreme artistic effort he'd just put out had drained him of his energy. I was left standing there, my face streaked with tears, my breath only able to come in ragged bursts, my muscles protesting at the position I'd been trapped in, my body bruised and battered and red from not just Cole's whipping but all the abuse I'd received in less than 24 hours.
I remained there for some time, until I heard the door open behind me and soft hands undid my bonds. I collapsed into my rescuer, not caring who it was but being grateful that they were taking me away from this room with its awful presence. They folded me into their arms, lifting me easily, and placed a kiss on my forehead. They then carried me out of Cole's room and onto my next session with whichever brother wanted my body next.