Fraternity War
Part 4
by Jackson Amacher (j_amacher@yahoo.com)
This fictional story is for adults only. It will be posted in installments. For the complete story, along with other stories by the same author, visit:
http://www.geocities.com/j_amacher/
VII.
A few days after our prank, we learned that eight Brig pledges had dropped out of Brig. This was good news for us, since that put us slightly ahead in the recruitment game.
Charlie got a call from Rick, the President of Brig. Rick was very polite, according to Charlie. He said that Brig had no intention of paying us back for our prank, and that they were interested in "making peace" rather than "escalating" the conflict.
Charlie agreed to "peace talks." I thought they were a stupid idea -- it's not like this is Ireland or something -- but I didn't have much say. Charlie agreed to send a delegation of four TED brothers to meet with four Brig brothers the next day. He didn't send himself, of course. Instead, he sent me and three other guys.
Brig agreed to meet with us before our Introduction to Art and Architecture class. All four of us were in that class, and as it turned out the four Brig guys were also in that class. It was the most popular class on campus that semester. So many students had signed up to take it at the beginning of the year that they moved it from the largest classroom available to the school's theater. It was a great setting for that class. It was taught by professor Kamensky, who was extremely popular. He was totally no-pressure, and gave great lectures. Most of the campus knew Kamensky was gay, too, but it didn't matter to anyone.
Professor Kamensky loved conducting class in the theater. Each class, he would stand in front of the curtain at the front of the stage, and pace back and forth while he gave his lecture. He'd tell us about the art we were supposed to have studied for that class. Then, halfway into every lecture he'd raise the curtain to reveal either a screen, for slides, or a plaster cast of some famous statue that he'd been lecturing about.
Since all eight of us had that class, we agreed to meet a half hour before the class in the theater building's coat room. This was just off of the main entrance, and very private. The four of us showed up on time, but the Brig people weren't there.
"Think they're quitting on us?," Mark, one of my TED brothers, asked.
"Let's give them ten minutes," I answered.
Just before their time was up, the four Brig guys showed up. They all kind of resembled their pledges in that they were pretty buff and preppie looking. I recognized only one: Heath, a pretty hunky guy I'd semi-seriously had my eye on for a while.
"Sorry we're late, guys," Heath said. "Shall we get down to business?"
"It's your meeting," I said. "What have you got to tell us?"
I heard stomping and footsteps, and turned my head. Brig pledges were rushing into the coat room. Me and the three other TED guys leapt for the door, but we didn't get far at all. Within seconds, each of us was being held by the arms and the shoulders by three or four Brig guys each.
We started to shout, but the four Brig brothers came forward and gagged us with ball gags fastened with leather straps behind our heads. One of them started to walk out of the coat room, and motioned with his hand for the group to follow us.
The Brig pledges picked up our legs, and carried us, totally helpless, out of the cloak room. Moving quickly, they went through the lobby and through the back stage door. We went up a step of stairs and through another door, and then we found ourselves on the stage, behind the curtains.
Without speaking a word, the Brig frat boys started tearing our clothes off. They took out knives and started cutting off our shirts and pants, and whipped off our underwear. I was totally naked in less than a minute, and there was absolutely nothing I could do.
They forced the four of us towards the back of the stage, and pushed us up against a metal electrical conduit that was running along the wall. They pulled my hands behind my back, and handcuffed them there. Then they attached a chain from my wrists to the conduit, and secured it with a padlock. I immediately tugged and tried to pull free, but there was no use. Next, they took a three-foot long pipe with a rope run through it, and a noose on each end. They hooked one noose over each of my feet, forcing me to keep my legs at three feet apart.
I looked to the side, and saw that my three TED brothers were in the same predicament. They had us all bare naked, hands behind our back, securely tied to the wall with our feet spread far apart and our limp dicks hanging down in full view of everyone. I noticed that the Brig frosh were picking up some plaster-cast model statues that were on the stage and carrying them away.
Heath walked up to me and started to run his finger over my body. He moved from my neck down to my chest, running it from one pec to the other and feeling what a large valley there was between them. Then he went down, running his finger over my abs and fingering my navel.
"Still want to talk peace?," he said, smiling. Then he walked off the stage, and the Brig pledges gathered up all of our clothes and silently followed him.
VIII.
I figured we had about ten minutes to get free before the class started. I tried to reach back with my fingers to test the strength of the chain holding me to the wall, but there was no use. Frantically, I tried to move my feet together so that I could at least try to hide my dick, but the pipe tied between my feet made that impossible. I tried to shout for help, but the gag was so large in my mouth that I could barely move my tongue. I made a little bit of noise by clattering the chain against the wall, but not enough to attract attention. The other three TED brothers weren't any more successful than I was.
We stopped struggling, and started to hear voices on the other side of the curtain. The crowd of students was assembling. We could hear normal student voices talking and laughing and binders snapping open and closed as people prepared for Kamensky's lecture.
My heart started to race, and I could feel the sweat running down my face. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. I was naked, tied up and helpless and on display. I tried not to think about the huge crowd of my friends and enemies that was behind that curtain.
Suddenly the crowd grew quiet, and I heard Kamensky's voice. He started his lecture with typical flair, reading a quote from our textbook. I couldn't pay any attention, though. I was still frantically trying to break loose by moving the chains that bound me to the electrical conduit at the back of the stage. But they seemed to have jammed the chain back there so tight that I couldn't budge it an inch.
I caught a glimpse of the other three guys, and despite everything that was going on in my head I realized how sexy they looked. They were all pretty well built, and they looked even hotter when you saw their muscles flexing as they tried to break free of the chains.
Finally, I leaned back against the wall and realized I would just have to try to accept what was going to happen. I sucked in my gut and started to wait.
Kamensky was talking about Italian sculpture in the High Renaissance. In typical style, Kamensky went on about how Michelangelo was gay and how his sculptures were all of beautiful naked boys. Finally, I heard words that made my heart drop into my stomach.
"Let's take a look at some of Michelangelo's work, shall we?," Kamensky said.
I heard the motor hum as the curtain slowly rose. Everything else was quiet up until the time the curtain was up to my hip level. Then I started to hear surprised shouts and sudden burst of laughter. By the time my naked chest was visible to the people in the front row, there was a laugh riot going on.
I could see everyone in the audience. There must have been fifty or sixty rows of seats, all full of students, plus many more standing in the aisles and at the back of the theater. With the curtain completely up and my naked body exposed, along with three of my friends, the class was rolling with gales of laughter. People were doubling over and pointing up at me at the other guys.
I had tried this a hundred times already, but I tugged on my chain again, desperately trying to get out of there. But it held firm.
A student rushed up from the front row. He had a big, professional-looking camera with a large lens. He put his arms up on the edge of the stage, pointed the camera at us, and started taking photos of us.
Kamensky started walking towards us.
"Well, it looks like someone's replaced the statues I was going to show you with some other models," he told the class. "But these specimens will do."
I couldn't believe what was happening. The class was laughing so hard that Kamensky had to shout to be heard.
"Notice the well-defined pectorals, somewhat larger than Michelangelo usually made," Kamensky said, as he ran his hand across my chest. "The biceps are well-defined and stand out nicely against the finely-toned shoulders, very common among Renaissance sculptors," he continued, running his hands over my arms. "The dark nipples against the nice pale skin were typical of the Italian male subjects found in many of Michelangelo's paintings," he continued, as he rubbed his fingers over my erect nipples. "The stomach muscles are subtle and rippled, much like on Michelangelo's David," Kamensky said, running his finger along my abs.
"However," Kamensky said, as he lowered his finger down to my dick, "the penis here is larger than is typically found on Renaissance sculptures. Back then, they admired small cocks rather than large ones."
When Kamensky touched my dick, I suddenly felt it perk up, and I realized that all the excitement was just too much. My cock was fully erect and sticking straight out from my body. I hoped to God that I wouldn't jizz on the floor. But I was feeling more mortified than anything else, especially since the audience started howling even more at seeing my dick come to attention.
Kamensky walked away from me and went on to the next guy, running his fingers over his anatomy and scrutinizing what he saw, comparing it to the ideal Italian sculptures he had been lecturing us about. I remembered that Kamensky was leaving the college at the end of the semester, since he had a job offer at Stanford. So he didn't give a fuck what the school could do to him, and apparently just wanted to have fun.
The hundreds of students staring at our naked bodies were still rolling with laughter, and the photographer was still snapping pictures. The doors to the theater kept opening and more people rushed in. At the back of the room I saw a bunch of Brig brothers standing with broad smiles, and a probably few hard-ons.
I was so humiliated that I couldn't look out at the audience anymore. I just looked down at the floor and tried to pretend that I wasn't standing there in public, bare naked. Finally, I heard an electric motor, and looked up to see that someone had flipped the switch to bring the theater's curtain back down.
"Oh, shucks, just as I was starting to have fun," Kamensky shouted to the class. He stepped back towards the front of the stage, out of the way of the curtain, and let it fall behind him.
A could of our fellow TED brothers came in, including Charlie. He took out my gag.
"We came as fast as we could," Charlie said. "I'm so fucking sorry about this, Nate, I had no idea. . ."
"Shut up," I said. "Just get us out of here."
"Try to stand away from the wall," Charlie said. I did. He reached his hand out to try to work the chain loose from the conduit, but the chain was so short and I was still so near the wall that all he accomplished was feeling up my ass.
"I called custodial on my cell phone," Charlie said. "They're bringing bolt cutters. In the meantime, let's cover you up."
By now there were about nine TED brothers, four of them pledges.
"Hey pledges," Charlie said. "Help us out. Loan us some clothes."
Three of the pledges walked backstage. The fourth one, God bless him, wasn't so modest. He stripped down to his boxers right there and handed over his shirt and pants. The clothes didn't do me much good at the moment, but Charlie was able to tie the long sleeved shirt around my waist so that it covered my groin.
By the time custodial arrived with the bolt cutters, some other pledges came by to bring us clothes we had in the frat house. We walked home together, while I thought about revenge.