After dinner, Brad took Cindy to his room. "You'd better use the enema again, baby, you just had dinner and that may have pushed things down."
Cindy immediately understood what Brad meant and since she wanted to give him as much pleasure as possible, she scurried into the bathroom and douched herself thoroughly.
When she appeared again, Brad was sitting on the bed completely nude, his legs hanging down to the floor. He was a total looker! His big square head with the dark flattop, the strong, broad shoulders and his massive biceps, his six-pack abs, his muscular thighs, all covered with hair in a neat and attractive pattern -- and that big, thick iron pole! Cindy sighed.
"Take off your skirt, Cindy, and your blouse!" Brad ordered in a harsh tone.
Cindy shivered a bit. She hadn't had to strip for any of the frat boys that day and it seemed a little risque. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse and slipped out of it, standing there in her stuffed brassiere. Then she unbuttoned the skirt and removed it. She stood before Brad in her high heels, her panties and the bra. Brad was studying her with deep interest. His cock twitched impatiently. Here he was in possession of another male, about to mate him and subjugate him. And that male had been rendered helpless by being turned into a cunt.
"Come `ere, Cindy!" was Brad's next order.
Cindy's dick was hardening in the panties. Brad couldn't help but observe that and he chuckled in a very manly, deep toned way. Cindy was now right in front of the brawny football jock.
"So, baby, show me how much you want me!" came his third command.
Cindy bent over and kissed him hungrily. Her sharp pointed nails started pinching his nips ever so lightly. He groaned. She started kissing his neck and then his chest, now feeling his stalwart biceps with her hands. She continued her descent -- to his navel. Now she was crouching, ready to get down and kneel. She leaned back and took his cock in her hands and studied it. He studied it with her. Here they were, two men looking at the one man's dick fully engrossed in admiring its size and stature. She looked up into his eyes: "It's beautiful, Brad!"
He smiled proudly. "It's yours now, Cindy. Treat it nicely!"
Cindy bent forward and kissed it gently and then looked up at Brad for his approval. "Yeah, Cindy, go ahead. I won't shoot in your mouth this time. We're going all the way tonight, baby."
While she began tonguing his dick, Brad opened a bottle of scotch and poured two glasses half full.
"Here, baby, before you go down on it, try some of this."
Cindy took the scotch and chugged it. It burned her throat as it traveled into her stomach. But soon she was getting tipsy. Brad was too. Her mouth went back to his thick, hard cock and she kissed it passionately from the tip down to the balls. He watched her mesmerized. Her head went back to the tip and she started to swallow it into her throat. Her pucker was twitching at the thought that he would soon be inside her butt. This dick was huge and stiff. It started producing gobs of precum that she was drinking avidly. This was Brad juice. She couldn't reach the root of the penis -- it was too fat down below and too long for her untrained throat. She knew that she would have to train to take big honkers like this one during the four years that she would spend in the frat house. Calvin's was even bigger and he was aggressive and wanted real service. He was gentler than Brad but his demands were greater, the way she analyzed him.
Brad was moaning and thrusting his hips upward to get it deeper into her throat. She started to like the smell of dick, the taste of dick, the feel of dick. Then, suddenly, he pushed her head away violently. She tottered and fell over backwards onto the floor.
"Shit, slut! You almost made me cum in your mouth! I want the hole, cunt, the cunthole, cunt!" he screamed.
Cindy tried to get back on her feet but the scotch was making this difficult. She wasn't used to drinking and was now completely disoriented. She had to take off her high heels in order to get up. Once standing, she was trying to get her feet back into the shoes but Brad was impatient. "Fuck the shoes, slut, get over here!"
She had managed to get the shoes on and wobbled over to Brad who was leaning back on the bed, his boner raging in the air. "Sit on it!"
Again she had to remove the shoes and she climbed up onto the bed over him. She found his dick under her. But this was not going to work without some lube.
She looked down into his eyes as she held herself steady on his dick with one hand and the other on the bed. "We need some oil or cream, Brad," she purred.
"On the night stand!" he barked.
She leaned over and grabbed the tube of cream, uncapped it and squeezed a gob into her hand. It was hard for her to work the cream into her asshole with her long-nailed fingers but she did manage to lube his pole. Gradually she lowered her butt onto his dick, guiding it into her hole. The scotch was working wonders. Her sphincter was relaxed and let his succulent dong penetrate it leisurely. He had his eyes closed and was lying back in perfect ecstasy, groaning. She leaned forward and tried to kiss him without letting the bone out of her butt, but she wasn't experienced enough yet. She had to go back to an upright position and bounced up and down on it for a while, but her thighs soon tired and she just sat down on it and constricted her pucker around the jock's log.
Brad knew what to do. He flipped her onto her back and climbed on top of her, dicking her like a rabbit. Holding her ankles in a steel-like grip, pulling the stocking covered legs upward as he rammed his club into her asshole he screamed: "Bruce, oh fucking Bruce! I'm fuckin' your fuckin' little hole, Bruce!" He didn't realize that he was using her male name. He was fucking Bruce, not Cindy, and he knew it, even if it remained in his subconscious. The whole frigging frat house wanted Bruce, not Cindy. Cindy was a means to their end. They all wanted male butt, male adoration, male love. This initiation was the initiation of the frat house to new thrills.
Brad's fuck strength grew harder and wilder. He was slamming her vulnerable little asshole like a crazed berserker. The bed started to creak and shake, slamming against the wall. Surely the other brothers heard what was going on in Brad's room, even if it was at the end of the corridor. His banging became more and more frenzied and crescendoed with five short but very hard rams into her butt, spewing a firestorm of sperm into Bruce's gut. That tremendous fat dick kept spewing cum into Cindy's dark, juicy hole, round after round. He collapsed on top of Cindy and kissed her, held her, petted her. "I love you, I really do!"
He was still bucking her softly getting the last drops of man juice out of his dick into her bunghole.
Cindy felt him coming to his end. She feared his hardon becoming soft, feared loosing that feeling of being filled with Brad dick. He pulled out and threw himself on the bed. She got up, leaned over him and took his semi hard dick in her mouth, tonguing it and jerking herself off at the same time. She adored his manhood. It felt so good to have the dick in her mouth as she stroked herself. All she thought was "Brad, Brad, Brad". Her climax was sweet, the sweetest she had experienced in her entire life. She put her hand on her ass crack and forced his slime into her hands. She brought it to her mouth, drank it, and licked her hand clean of Brad's sperm so that he could see it. She looked at him with love in her eyes and smiled.
"I love you Br ... ah, Cindy," he said.
"It's all right, Brad, you can call me anything you want. I love you too."
"Do I have to share you with the whole fuckin' frat house?"
"That's up to you, stud. You fight for me, you keep the bros off a me, and I will obey you," she volunteered.
"What did they do to you?" he asked.
"Do you really want to know, Brad?"
"I guess not, or maybe yeah, I don't know..."
The fucking had made them both so tired that they dozed off with the night stand lamp on. Sometime in the middle of the night, one of them turned it out.
Waking the next morning, Brad was throwing awesome wood. "Go wash `er out, bitch, we're going for another round of fuck-the-bunghole!"
Cindy got up and went to the bathroom. She came back refreshed. She had redone her makeup and applied fresh perfume. She went over to Brad and started to give him head, but he had other ideas. He got up and turned her on her stomach. Spreading her legs and kneeling between them, he started to caress her butt. In a complicated move, he completely removed the panties but left her stockings and bra on. He was fascinated by Cindy's boyish buns. He spread them and studied the twitching pucker. This time it was he who reached for the lube. He carefully smeared the lube into Cindy's butthole with one finger, admiring his work. Then he enthusiastically lathered up his bone with the lube, aimed it and placed the tip of his hard dick at the taut little asshole, pushed slightly and started to fuck her, slowly, very slowly, watching the hard meat slip into the tight, wet hole. Once he was fully inside the pulsating pucker, he let himself fall on Cindy. He wanted to pet Cindy's hair, but it was a blond wig. He quickly removed the wig. Cindy was becoming more and more Bruce and this suited Brad just fine. The big football player buried his nose in Bruce's hair and enjoyed the smell. He started bucking and grinding the hole with his fuck tool while he gnawed on Bruce's neck. He was crazy for Bruce's skin, the feeling and the smell of it. They both wanted this to last a long time, but nature wasn't going to let them. Brad first oozed and then came in torrents. And so did Bruce. They just lay there, big Brad on Bruce, and fell asleep again.
When they woke the second time, Brad looked at the clock: "Shit! I'm late for practice!" He jumped out of bed and got dressed without washing his dick that still smelled of fucked puckerpussy and sperm. Cindy watched the stud slip on a jock with a penis protection and his football pants that made his manhood seem to be the center of his being. That fucking bulge in the tight, white pants was like the middle of her attention. He pulled over his shoulder pads and the football shirt. Shit all mighty! He was a young god! She was so happy to be his girl.
"See you later this afternoon, Cindy! I want another go at it, okay?"
And he was gone.
She got up, made the bed, straightened up his room arranging all the covered chairs and the things on top of them into their correct places, got dressed in her full drag, and went to her room, closing the door softly on her man's place. On her way back to her room, she passed by the living room. It was empty. All the other bros were still in bed.
Back in her room, she redressed as Bruce. Once again a he, he went down to the kitchen to rustle up some breakfast. He was sad that Brad had been in such a hurry and that he hadn't been able to make him breakfast as well and serve him. He wanted to be Brad's all the way.
Even the smell of freshly brewed coffee didn't wake anyone else in the frat house. After eating, he returned to his room to study.
About an hour later Calvin opened the door without knocking. He just walked in as though he owned the place.
"Come `ere!" he commanded.
Bruce was shocked because this wasn't typical of Calvin, the soft-spoken basketball stud.
"I said come `ere!" he added more forcefully.
Bruce was torn between Brad and his position in the frat house. He stood up and looked at Calvin. The two stared at each other for a few long seconds.
"You know, you are very cute as a boy, too!" Calvin offered. "I heard the noise from Brad's room last night. I bet he fucked you really hard, didn't he?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"No, well, actually I do! Did he fuck you?"
"Yeah, twice -- last night and this morning. He wants me to be his and only his."
"Well, missy, that ain't gonna happen. You see, when we decided to accept you as a frat member, we all agreed on several basic principles. First off, we all realized that you are not the typical frat bro here. You are special. So we agreed that anything that one of us does with you, all of us can do. Now, we weren't expecting that things would turn out this way, like what we did yesterday and stuff. But that is what happened. Now I know that Brad thinks that he is the alpha male around here `cause he is the prez and all. But he cannot take you away from the rest of us. Unless you want to leave. And most of us know that you don't want to leave. We just feel that, dude!"
"Thanks, Calvin."
"Listen, we all had sex with you yesterday, every single frat bro. And we all know it. Now, I know and you know that everyone here knows that you are a man. The pastiche of having you dressed as a girl was just a facade. I stand here now in front of you tenting like hell in my sweatpants because I want to get my dick back into your asshole again seeing you as Bruce and not Cindy. If Brad needs to see you as Cindy ..."
"No he doesn't. He loves me as Bruce, too."
"Well, fuck him! He's such a noble snot! But we all, yeah, all of us, want to fuck you! There isn't a guy in this house who doesn't want to fuck you several times a day! That is why we accepted you, actually. You are our fuck thing, Bruce. We wanna fuck you again and again. I don't know what has taken hold of us, but we all wanna fuck you."
The two just looked at each other. Calvin stepped forward and grabbed Bruce. "Right now, I am going to fuck you whether you or Brad want it or not. I am fucking sick of being the nice guy and getting second place. You are going to ride my bone until I -- yes I -- decide when to gizz."
Bruce looked into Calvin's eyes. He was scared shitless.
Calvin hugged him, brought his mouth to his own and kissed him. They made out for a while. Bruce couldn't decide what he wanted to do. Calvin was handsome, very handsome -- and virile. This black hunk was now caressing him, kissing him, squeezing him. He felt that big piston pressing against his groin. "Bruce, my Bruce, I am going to strip you down and you are going to suck my dick. I am going to fuck you into eternity today, babe. You got that?"
Bruce was still scared. Calvin started undressing him pulling his t-shirt up over his head, unsnapping his jeans and pulling them down with his birefs. Soon he was naked in the athlete's strong embrace. Calvin scooped him up in his massive arms and laid him on the bed with his ass in the air. Then, something that Bruce had never expected, happened -- Calvin started to rim him. This was a new sensation -- a man's tongue in his bunghole, carefully caressing it and seeking its pleasure points. Calvin's saliva was lubing the hole, making it ready to receive Calvin's massive bone. The pucker was still nice and swollen from Brad's onslaught earlier. Once Calvin noticed that all was ready, he took the fucker's position and aimed his tremendous weapon at the hole. Slowly, gradually, he penetrated Bruce.
"Dang, man! That hurts!" Bruce cried. "Stop!"
This only made Calvin hotter. But he pulled out and found some lube in his sweatpants' pocket. He gently greased up the pucker and his dick and then went back for more.
"Listen, Bruce," he whispered into Bruce's ear, "I am fucking glad that football practice and basketball practice are at different times. You can expect that during football practice you will have a basketballer's dick in your sweet little asshole every day. Got it?"
The feeling of the enormous dick was hurting Bruce. Suddenly, Calvin held a little brown bottle under Bruce's nose. "Smell this, babe!"
Bruce smelled it. He lost control. His head was spinning and a pleasant hazy feeling took over his body. The massive pounding dick turned into a pure pleasure pole. Dang! He just wanted to give more and more of his pucker to this virile, muscular athlete. Calvin's long fat dick was in him all the way. It reached the second ring of Bruce's anus and opened it up with force. Bruce felt Calvin's pubes on his butt and Calvin's balls banging against him.
"Listen, Bruce, I wanna turn you around and get at you missionary style but I don't want you to lose my dick in you. Bear with me." Calvin grabbed one of Bruce's legs and swung it out and up, turning Bruce onto his back. The big black pole was still deep inside of the lad. Calvin didn't miss a pump. He kept ramming the juicy asshole in rhythm. He lowered himself onto Bruce and started kissing him. He gave Bruce another go at the poppers and took some himself. His pounding became brutal. The bed was creaking and pounding against the floor. Pretty soon the whole frat house was going to be awake. Calvin started to roar like a wild beast. Bruce noticed that in this position he was absolutely helpless to move without Calvin's permission. He was Calvin's total fuck object. Just as this was crossing his mind, Calvin came. He slammed his thick bulk into that hole and squirted more sperm with each slam. He continued kissing Bruce and petting him full of love.
It was then that a loud "hmmm" brought them back to reality. Patrick was standing there looking at them: "So now that you've got me good and awake, it's my turn at the hole!"
Calvin stood up and waved his hand to indicate to Patrick that it was his. Nobody asked Bruce. Patrick was throwing wood sticking out of his pajama. He shoved it in Bruce with a totally nonchalant sway. Calvin gave Bruce more poppers and Patrick just banged away almost mechanically. It wasn't the passionate fuck that Calvin and Brad had delivered. Patrick just wanted to get his gizz off and get on with the day. Bruce felt more and more like a piece of worthless shit, just a fuck hole for the frat bros. Patrick groaned and grunted with each slam into the bunghole. His red face got even more crimson as he exerted himself, working at it like a sport. "Shit, this hole is loose! Squeeze it Bruce! I wanna feel your pucker not some ballroom!"
Bruce obediently squeezed his pucker around Patrick's driving dick. This took Patrick over the edge. He started to shoot his wad into the vacillating hole.
All of a sudden, Patrick was gone. Bruce looked up and saw Brad on the floor smashing his iron fists into him. "You don't just fuck him like that, got me?!" he panted.
Patrick was no match for the big footballer. Calvin was trying to get them apart but with little luck. Patrick's still hard dick was waving in the air like a flagpole with a stream of gooey cum still on it.
By this time Steve, Don, Max, and David were in the room helping Calvin hold the two off each other.
"Don't you ever fucking touch Bruce again, you fucked up soccer player!" Brad hollered at the top of his lungs.
"Everyone can fuck `er, just like Calvin did this morning! She's just one cheap whore who likes to feel dick in her cunt and she's willing to give it to anyone." Patrick responded.
Full anger and jealousy Brad looked at Calvin, who was still totally nude. Steve was also looking at Calvin but with more interest than disdain. Patrick's dick was still hanging out of his pj's but it was flaccid now, like a reddish white sausage.
"Boys, boys, we've got to settle this issue," Calvin intervened.
Brad was still steaming: "Yesterday was an initiation, you bastards. Yesterday you could do with him what you wanted. But the initiation is over now. And he's mine!" he bellowed.
"I don't think that that is what the fraternity thought when we decided to admit him, Brad. Maybe YOU need a new initiation. Just because you're the president of the frat house doesn't mean that you can make new rules."
Brad stared at him in rage. "I am not making new rules," he roared, "there were never any rules regarding Bruce to start with!"
"Well, I do think that there is a collective will here at play. Boy! Your are fuckin jealous, aren't you?! You in love with him? You know that makes you a faggot?" added Calvin.
"You are all faggots!" he yelled, "just as much as I am. You all had your way with him yesterday knowing full well that he was a man. David even let him jerk off with them. Probably liked watching Bruce beat his meat, just to watch it!"
Brad was still straining to get free and they managed to get Patrick out of the room to cool off. But Brad was another story.
What should happen now? Give me some ideas to go on ...
tuffbottm@hotmail.com