Skippy Gobbles College Cock 12 By Scott Grimes (Studstick@mail.com)
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Josh Takes the Cross and Skippy is Made to Worship
"Be at St. John the Penitent, tonight at midnight, basement. Tell no one. Alpha-COK priority!"
Well that was something! Josh and I both got the same text while we were in class today. Never happened before. Must be important or it wouldn't say "Alpha-COK Priority."
Of course Josh and I Googled it, but the church didn't seem to be affiliated with any other church or denomination. A one-off. Sounded pretty exclusive to us!
At the stroke of midnight, as instructed, we went behind the stairs leading up to the main door of the place and walked down a flight to a gate of metal bars. I swear it creaked as we pushed it open. It was pitch dark, but only at first. Our eyes adjusted and we could see a long hall with two or three candles leading back under the whole building. It smelled musty, but other than that, it seemed okay.
For sure we heard a real movie creeeeeeeeeeekkkkkkk as a door opened at the end of the passage. Josh and I took a breath, I swear we could hear our hearts beat. We walked in.
"Close the fucking door!" came a shout.
We closed.
"Strip."
We stripped.
The stentorian voice was Father Antonio's. He'd been to the house a couple of times over the summer to introduce us to his particular form of worship. It was dedicated to his dick, of course. After all, he was an Alpha-COK alum! But the good father liked to induce a little suffering in his supplicants to resonate with his own, I guess. He was an expert with a riding crop. Did I say how hot he was? How cruel his sneer was? How he could keep Josh and me on the edge of pain and pleasure until he finally let us fall off on the side that included hot-as-fuck orgasms? No? Well, okay. My gut was telling me we were about to get a refresher course, so just hang on.
"Joshua! Lean back on the cross and grab those pegs! Then hold perfectly still. You're a preacher's son, so you know that the cross is an instrument of both pain and of sacrifice.
We must be under where the church altar would be. It was so dark we couldn't see much else. The cross was almost against the far wall. There was a box on each side of it, about a foot high. When my bud was in position, a pair of hands appeared out of the darkness and fastened cuffs around Josh's wrists.
"Good work, Gregg!"
Gregg!!!! It was fucking Gregg Seemann, our nemesis. The cocky arse hole who liked to make our lives miserable whenever he could. The law firm safeguarding our trust appointed him our unofficial guardian. Legally unofficial, but if we ever wanted to see our inheritance, we had to put up with whatever he said. Of course he was a legal intern as well as an Alpha-COK alum. I was beginning to wonder if besides Alpha-COK, maybe there was some kind of a shadow frat that people like Gregg and Father Antony belonged to. Most of the rest of the brothers and alums were decent enough. Well, oversexed, dictatorial, demanding and sexy as fuck, but decent in their own way. Tony and Gregg were the same except for the decent part.
"Joshua, pull yourself up with the pegs and put your feet on the boxes on either side of you." The cross rose a foot or so, the center beam rising up from a hole in the floor.
Besides being a preacher's kid, Josh was an excellent gymnast. His cut muscles celebrated the challenge of a half side split, leaving him with his feet wide apart, quads bulging. His biceps bulged too. His abs were taught. He looked amazing. The boxes slowly slid away from each other as my buddy began to tire and rest his weight on his legs. His split grew wider.
"Gregg...the peg."
Greg stepped out of the shadows carrying a pretty huge dildo, covered in nubs and mounted on a narrow shelf. The shelf fitted tightly in a slot right below Josh's crotch. I had an idea where this was going. Well, at least where the big fucking dildo was going. Already in a wide straddle split, my bud struggled to bend his knees a little, trying to lift his hole above the menacing bulk of the peg. Josh yipped as his the boxes slid further to each side and the big spike kissed his love knott. His own weight slowly forced his tender ring to open and begin swallowing the peg as the boxes inched farther apart. He was starting to sweat and his eyes were getting even bigger. The candle light made his every muscle stand out in relief. Sweat gleamed on his brow and in his pits, slowly gathering and trickling down his sides.
"Gregg! Bring the penance bench for little Skip now."
Father and Gregg stepped into the dim light. Gregg was rolling a bench with cuffs on all four legs. The top was padded, the far end higher than the near end and there was a big cut-out in the near end too. A small frame rose at the far end with straps hanging from it. It all made sense when Gregg braced the thing and Father pushed me forward onto it. My junk hung down in the cut-out. The top of my chest was exposed at the other end. Next my wrists were secured to the legs in front and my ankles to the ones in back. Low padded blocks were mounted on either side of my neck so I couldn't move it forward or to the side, only up and down. Other pads were mounted in front of my knees so my hips were securely anchored. My head hung down for a few seconds until I began to feel cold fingers at my arse hole. My head jerked up and was strapped into the frame. I could see Josh looking down at me, his eyes like saucers, his mouth open like a surprised choirboy. My bud could look so fucking hot and so fucking sexy and so truly fucking innocent all at the same time. Hell, he could even looked innocent with Clydes balls in his mouth, or when he came up for air after rimming the Highlander's hole. Now he also looked a little scared. Who wouldn't? He couldn't hold out forever, could he?'
"Joshua, my son...it's like this. It's going to fucking happen. You're helpless. You're hanging on a cross, there's a hurkin' badass peg nosing into your pussy. It's going up your pussy. It's going all the fucking way up your pussy. You won't like it. It's still going to happen. You will keep working it with your little pink hole until you've fucked yourself all the way down and you're grinding your tender pussy lips on wood. While you struggle, Gregg is going to paddle the buns of your little buddy here. It's going to hurt him. Gregg will beat his fucking little arse and not stop until you've got that pule all the way up in your guts. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Josh just whimpered and nodded. He was my buddy after all. He'd already started to squirm and squeal, twisting his narrow hips as he lowered his weight and the bludgeon entered his jock pussy. He was red in the face and really sweating now. His brows knit together in concentration. He panted and slowly fought his way an inch lower. Then Father's first blow hit.
"WWWWWHHHHHAAAAAAAMM!" That was no fucking riding crop! That was a fucking ping pong paddle. Gregg took his fucking time. That peg must have been twelve inches and Gregg must have walloped me at least twice for every inch Josh earned as he impaled himself, working his way down that monster. He gasped. He moaned. He wailed. About half way down, he was crying and tears started rolling down his cheeks. He was going as fast as he could to stop Gregg from converting my butt to hamburger.
Finally Josh could rest his hips on the shelf. He was pinned like a frog on a gig. He gasped for breath. He mewled. He sobbed some too. Maybe that was me. At least Gregg had stopped battering my butt. I could feel the heat radiating off my globes.
"Smack Smack."
The familiar snap of Father's crop directly on my defenseless pucker was a sensation it is impossible to forget. For some unknown reason, whenever it happened, my dick decided to get hard. Rock hard.
"Smack Smack."
"Punish his fucking pussy hole, Father! Smack the hell out of that fucking little pink boy twat!" Gregg was really getting into all this.
"Smack Smack."
"Gregg, my child, I will now let you kiss my dick, they you are going to slick it the fuck up I'm going to fuck the hell out of Skip's pussy."
Looking up at Josh on the cross, I could see his dick start to rise. I could see a tear slowly roll down his cheek and land exactly on his knob.
"Gregg...prepare my rod."
Josh later told me that this involved slipping a rubber cock ring over Father's dick and balls, to which a bag of ball bearings was fitted. The bearings surround Fathers flesh and blood testicles, weighing them down a bit and adding powerful swinging momentum while he fucked me. The bag was covered with sharp nubs, as was the cock ring itself, at least on the side that hit my hole. In my case, I would learn that the nubs at the base of his dick abraded my shaved arse ring, and the ones on the bag smacked into my nuts with every thrust.
"Now prepare the chalice, I'm going to so fill it up!"
I could hear obscene sucking sounds behind me. Gotta say...Gregg could suck arse. But then, he was a law intern.
Gregg's lips hit my hole and his tongue pushed in several slugs of spit.
"Good boy, Gregg! Now guide me in."
Father's staff pierced any reservations I had to being fucked. Wham - his dick would punch me - and a half second later the bag of weights would hit my poor little hangers. Despite myself, I would jerk which would make me grind my hole against Father's nubby cock ring while my pussy tightened on his dick. It was intense. It was FUCKING intense. Father fuck-walked the bench forward until my mouth was in front of Josh's junk.
"Skip...take...eat - in remembrance of having the hell fucked out of you." I opened my mouth and swallowed Josh's tense and tender spike. I sure as hell wasn't going to forget this any time soon.
I sucked on my buddy's dick. I'd done it a lot and I knew just how to suck it. Josh liked a lot of suction, and a whole lot of knob work, as well as some deep throating and humming and general loud slurping. I was really good at all of those.
"Gregg, bring your paddle. Stand beside me and observe! Every five fucks you will give me the penance of pain, you will strike my cheeks, my son."
"I sure will, Father!"
As I said, Gregg loved to give a little extra discomfort whenever he could. You could hear the joy in the man's voice.
"Fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck...WHAAAAACCCKKKFFUUUCCCKKKK!!!" That fifth one was huge. It stayed huge. The cycle repeated until my world was reduced to my tortured hole and balls, and the never ending count. For what must have been ten minutes but seemed like ninety, the scene continued.
Then I heard whimpering. It was coming from my throat. I suddenly knew that I was going to cum and cum big time.
"Gregg! Get down in there and suck Skip's load out of his little dick. You will suck it all out. You will keep one sucking. You will suck on it until I tell you to stop.
"Yes Father!"
Even though the jerk had to suck pledge dick, he knew it was going to take me from the peak of orgasm to the desperate hell of overly-tender helplessness. He was all for it. It was right up his alley.
Father continued up my alley as he picked up the crop that had been resting on my sweaty back.
"Smack Smack." He was smacking Josh on the nipples.
"Smack Smack." He reached under my chin and hit Josh on the balls.
"Smack Smack." He worked over Josh's tender areas for a couple of more minutes as I did everything I could to keep from coming. Josh was moaning and twisting on the cross as I sucked his dick. He had a truly fine dick and it was getting ready to do what it did best...cum in a mouth.
Father speeded up.
"Gregg...Skip...you will keep sucking no matter what happens, do you UNDERSTAND?"
Gregg sucked and voiced, "MM...MM."
I whined around Josh's cock, higher and louder, managing to get out, "HHHHNNNN...HHHHHNNN."
My arse cramped down on Father's dick and I dropped all the spoooge I had in me into to Gregg's sucking mouth. I gave and gave as Father pounded my pussy and beat on Josh's tender nuts. My buddy screamed and unloaded in my throat. We came together in a symphony of moans, sobs, yells and whimpers. I think that pleased both Father and Gregg.
Gregg and I sucked on as Father got closer to his own epiphany. My dick was one hurting unit in Gregg's chewing mouth. I eased up on my buddy so my sucking wouldn't make him squirm so much, but having his dick in my mouth was quite a comfort to me. Gregg kept the power suction on my drained dick, scrubbing my raw knob with his rasping tongue. I started to scream around Josh's hardwood. That's what Father was waiting to hear.
Father skewered me like a bullfighter going for the killing stroke. I could feel his lava spew into my guts.
"HHHOOOOOOOOLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYYYFFFFFFFFFUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!" That was Father.
Then there was silence.
Gregg had stopped sucking me. Cautiously I sucked slower on Josh. I let his limp meat fall out of my mouth and listened. I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't see anyone. Then I realized I could move my arms and legs. Somehow Gregg had opened the cuffs and disappeared, along with Father. Oh so slowly, I pushed myself off the bench. I worked the cramps out of my arms and legs and limped up to Josh. I stood first on one box, then the other to release his cuffs. I pushed first one box then the other to the bottom of the cross so Josh could use his legs to slowly work himself up and off the wicked impaler. It took us several minutes. He fell forward and I caught him and we both fell to the floor. I was leaning against the cross, sitting on my heels with Josh draped across my lap. He was practically unconscious. He looked half dead.
"Thanks Skip, muttered Josh. I am one big hurting unit."
"Me too, buddy, me too. Let's get dressed and get out of here."
I helped him rise again. It took us several minutes. We weren't in very good shape. Josh was cramping and had a hard time walking straight. My butt and balls were blistered and I wasn't walking very well either. We managed to climb into our clothes made it home and to bed. Then I think we passed out.
Gregg is Discussed
"Clyde, run that part again...'
"Ye want to see the whole fukin thing again?"
"Oh hell, yes! We've got to see what those two did to our boys so we can plan what we're going to have done to them. Run it again...it's so fucking wrong, but it's so fucking hot!!"
Clyde ran the footage he and Lance had recovered from the surveillance camera at the church. Father Tony and Greg were taking pains with our pain as Josh and I were tied and helpless. The church security was handled by a firm owned and operated by Alpha-COK alums, most of which were former military. For some reason, they'd installed cameras that delivered full color and could zoom in for close-ups. Right now we were seeing my helpless little hole turning red as Father Tony stung it with his crop.
"Smack Smack."
"Punish his fucking pussy, Father! Smack the hell out of it."
"Smack Smack."
"Clyde, will you look at that? What a beautiful sight. Skip's pussy shrinking in terror. Dude! I can never believe I've stick my big schlong in that and pop it opened it like a beer can. Look how tight it fucking is!"
Clyde was indeed looking. Looking and leering. As a result, his highland horse cock was slowly working its way in and out of my buddy Josh's throat. Clyde stood at the foot of the bed, TV control in hand while Josh lay on his back and received that huge boy breaker. As Josh twisted and choked a bit, his own dick pointed at the ceiling, angry red from not yet cumming.
Lance was sitting on a chair he'd reversed so he could rest his arms on the back while he watched the video. His knees were as far apart as possible. His balls hung over the back of the seat. I was on my knees, sucking him through the chair's wide opening.
"You can work your little dick if you want, Skip. I love to watch you pull on your hardon while you suck me. You totally need my dick in you to cum, don't you, little dude?" I gurgled and nodded, Lance continued, "Man, will you look at Josh's dick in Skip's mouth, Clyde? You're guy, Josh, doesn't know whether to cry, scream, shit or shoot! That's gotta hurt, and we're going to really fuck over the priest and Gregg, after what those bastards did to our pledges, but man! Is it ever hot!!
"But before we come up with a plan, show me the part again where Gregg smacks the priest while he's fucking the shit out of Skip, and that last part where the priest floods his guts!"
"Ohhhhhh yeah! That's the part. Listen to that man when he comes!!"
"HHHOOOOOOOOLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYYYFFFFFFFFFUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!" -- the priest again.
"Play it one more time, Clyde, it's time to feed Skip."
Of course it was.
"Here you go, Skip! Eat it up, baby, daddy's got a really big wad for you this time, suck it down like a good boy!
"HHHOOOOOOOOLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYFFFFFFFFFUUUUCCCCCCCKKKK!!!" --that time, it was Lance. His syrup flowed up from his balls, through his hard dick, and splashed against the back of my throat before I gulped it on down to my stomach.
I always feel better after I've had something to eat.
The Men Even Some Scores
We were watching football on TV. Lance and Calvin were propped up in bed, Josh and I had our cheeks on their abs and their cocks in our mouth, nursing quietly. From time to time, Lance would reach down to scratch his balls or run his fingers through my hair. I couldn't help but think how cool it is to hang with Lance. He's such an "all American guy!" Aggressive, confident, over-sexed, directive. He certainly inspired this pledge's allegiance.
Josh and I were still getting over our grueling experience with Father Anthony and Gregg. We were sore, we still felt a little scared too, I think.
Our team on the tube was winning, so the men were charged up. When there was an interception and run for the end line, the men would reach down and jerk their dicks, hooting and laughing. Josh and I kept our attention on their knobs. The final goal was a score for our side. Lance held my head and beat off into my mouth.
"Gobble up my baby crud, Skip!! Hell FFFFFUUucucccckckinnnn AAAAA YeeeeSSSSS!" he shouted, unleashing great gouts of fuck snot into the back of my throat. They made their merry way down to my happy stomach, a most familiar route.
"FFFEEEEWWWWWWWKKKMMMMAAAAAAHHHHNNNNNAAAAHHHHH!!" That was Clyde's canon going off in Josh's mouth, my buddy sputtering and choking as he worked to suck out the dregs from the Scotsman's big balls. "What a grrande game we played, eh? Josh-lad, ye can celebrate yourself a bit. Give up your boy batter in daddy's hand and have yourself a lap-up.
Clyde held out his hand, Josh knee walked up and began jerking his dick, concentrating hard to hold the tip steady. About twenty strokes later, my buddy was spitting out his load into the waiting hand. Josh bent over to suck up his spooge. Clyde's other hand closed on the back of his head and held Josh's mouth into the palm while he slurped and swallowed. Josh kept licking Clyde's hand, sliding a bit, then sucking on the big blunt thumb. Clyde's dick noticed this and seemed to like that a lot. It started to grow again, pointing to the ceiling.
"Eat on my meat, some more, lad. Chew the potatoes while you're down there. Soon you'll be dining on fine white gravy again." Josh applied himself enthusiastically. His hunger for Clyde never lagged.
Lance slid to the floor and rolled onto his stomach to watch the show. He snapped his fingers, pointed at me meaningfully, then pointed to his arse. I crawled over and sat on my heels between his ankles, leaned forward and grabbed an arse cheek in each hand and spread them apart. I scooted down, leaned in, and blew gently on the tight tan pucker. It got tighter. I leaned closer and sniffed a couple of times. Musk and fresh, clean sweat...Parfum di Lance! Perfect! My mouth watered. I cleared my throat and dove into that hole like a starving weasel.
"Eat quieter, Skip. Clyde and I have some talking to do."
I slowed my oral assault on his hole. Licking quietly, I got it to relax a little and began working my tongue into the knot.
"Clyde, now that we got some cum in them, and Josh and Skip are pretty much back to normal, we need to decide what we're going to do about that fucking priest and that fucking law intern. It's taken our little guys hours of sucking before they began to settle down and relax again. I'm thinking we need to really fuck up those two arseholes who worked over our little dudes!"
I tongue-fucked Lance's ring some more, nibbling delicately. While he was talking, I'd managed to work his balls out from under him and was massaging them with my finger tips.
"RRRRRiiiiigghht you arrrreee, Lance! I'm thinking we can call in some markers and get some help from our frat bros and grads. "
"Great idea, big guy! Let's let the little dudes ride for a bit while we plan things out." Lance rolled onto his back and crooked a finger at me, then pointed to his dick. "Have a seat, Skip. I'm starting to come up with some great ideas.
Josh and I road our guy's poles like the veteran bull riders we were. After the men came up with their plan, their dicks came up with another load of ball butter. The hot cum came up our pussies and slowly soaked into our bodies. Quite an absorbing experience over all.
And Some More Scores are Settled
Lance and Clyde laid some really heavy plans. It turns out that Lance is the favorite nephew of the Dean of Students, whose long ago boyfriend is the current archbishop of the area. Who knew? Once Lance and Clyde told the frat council about our kidnapping, they deliberated for about ten minutes and then went into action. Father Antonio was captured by former special ops military bros and layered in cotton with only his face and his dick tip exposed. A continuous rotation of pledges sucked him in 20 minute shifts. It took him just over twenty-seven and a half hours to cum, deprived as he was of his usual flagellatio , either of himself and others. After the cum of the ages, he was again packed up, screaming and gibbering by the military guys who shipped him off to be the chaplain for three year scientific expedition in the Antarctic. It was staffed by 18 women. We never heard from him again.
As for Gregg Seemens...he'd been a thorn in the side of way too many brothers for way the hell too long. The council spent over an hour deciding what to do with their most beautiful and most obnoxious brother.
Gregg Seemens stood naked and blindfolded. The harsh beams of two spotlights picked out every beautiful muscle on his oh-so-perfect body. With his forearms locked together beneath his shoulder blades, his amazing chest pushed forward like an ad for gym equipment. His flat abs tightened like a drum head in a draught. His thighs and butt bulged with the effort of staying upright. Gregg's oh-so-beautiful feet were wide apart, tightly laced into hiking boots that were locked onto plates in the floor. He had to keep his knees slightly bent to keep from falling forward. He swayed from side to side, vulnerable, helpless. Apparently his dick was happy with the situation. It jutted proudly from his muscled lower belly above duck-egg balls that swung below. Sweat ran down his sides and off his balls. Gregg was scared.
A wiffle ball was strapped into his mouth, letting him breath easily. Couldn't understand anything he was trying to say though. "WWWWWwaaaaaaaayyyyyyaaaaaaauuuuukkkkkkkk!!! OOOOOooo'sssssssseeeeeeeeeehhhhrrrrr???
Flop flop flop flop... Except for our flip flops, Josh and I were naked like Gregg. We walked into the social room between two of the brothers sitting in the circle around Gregg.
"UUUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKKNNNNIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Gregg seemed angry.
Josh and I stood in front of that beautiful body, slowly leaned in and each began gently sucking a large brown nipple. Gregg hated having his nipples sucked.
"IIIIIiiiillllllllooooooooooooeeennnnnnniiiiiiiiiiettttttttoooouuuuuddddaaaaaeeerrreee." No, Gregg wouldn't be killing anyone.
You see, Lance and Calvin got one of their nerdier bros to check out Gregg's phone while he was working out. Seems Mr. Beautiful had a thing for porn...not just porn, but kiddy porn. Not just kiddy porn, but really awful kiddy porn. The evidence was all packaged and shared with the Dean of Students. The dean, in his wisdom, decided that first justice would come from the Alpha-COK. Then Gregg would find himself on perpetual probation as the dean's houseboy. Besides having a big house that needed a whole lot of upkeep, the dean had a long standing hobby. The man simply loved to milk guys until they screamed. He didn't care for edging them at all. He just milked them time after time until they shot blanks or passed out. Then he'd milk them in their sleep. The dean loved drinking several White Russians in the evening and augmenting the cream with stud milk. As he'd gotten older, the dean backed up his manual skills with a wide variety of vibrators, sleeves, dildos, as well as a goat milker. This last was his favorite.
The dean had a wooden milking stand that trapped a guy on all fours - his head stuck through a stock-like opening with a chin rest. A shelf supported the guy's chest, and pads protected the guy's shoulders against the substantial impact when the dean helped things along by fucking the cum out. The splats, squirts and drips were sucked away by the milker and deposited tidily in 400 ml vials. The dean would wipe down his cum donor, massage his back, gut and balls, then walk to the front and stick his dick through the cum stud's hole gag and fuck the helpless guy's mouth until they were both hard again. After two or three of these cycles, the dean would rest while he rotated through several dildos, including a little hand held jack hammer that pounded out miraculous amounts of spooge for the milking sleeve to extract. He also got a kick out of stretching his captive's balls with a weighted parachute. But the really cool part was that he would often shoot thick beef gravy up the stud's arse before turning loose his big German Shepherd, Hans.
Hans had been taught never to bite, but he could use the front of his teeth to worry open a guys arse ring, then work his long muscular tongue a couple of inches up his shit shoot. Men on the bench sometimes got hysterical while this was going on. On occasion, it all made the dean so impatient that he'd chug a hit of vodka and suck a load out of his victim's cock, chewing a little to make the guy's body give up everything it could. He said the chewing made the yield sweeter. The milked stud would mewl and whine while the relentless Hans worked for more gravy. Meaty little lumps made the dog scrape the captive's tender ring in his frantic effort to feed. All this usually caused the captive's bladder to let go in exhausted panic. The dean caught the warm body water in a jar, gently milking out the last few drops to keep the milking stand clean. Of course, sometimes he couldn't resist pouring it into a funnel in his milk stud's mouth while pinching the guy's nose closed so he'd have to swallow.
See, the dean had developed a distinct hankering for cum over the years, but he'd never had a scrap of submissiveness in his nature. He really didn't like to suck dick much. So at other times, the dean would strap his man of the hour on a wrestling mat, spread eagled and helpless, blindfolded and gagged. He'd hire frat pledges to suck out loads then feed him directly from their hot wet mouths as he sat in a nearby wingchair, reading gay Victorian pornography. The dean liked to read for hours.
But all of this was still in Gregg's future.
In his present, he was growing hoarse from his incoherent and ineffective yelling. Slowly more pledges entered the circle. One knelt and worked Gregg's balls into his mouth, the other, just the head of his dick. A third sat behind and burrowed his face between the muscled cheeks. More came, one behind each knee, pink tongues rasping the delicate skin over and over. Two more licked the sweat from the front of his arm pits with relentless determination.
"AaaaaaAAAHAAHAHHAHHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHH!!!!!!" Gregg was ticklish.
When he bucked, twisted or swayed, the mouths stayed with him, his motion so wonderfully limited by his trapped feet. If he pulled his dick back from the sucking mouth, he forced his arse onto another. When the last two pledges arrived, knelt down and began nibbling at the sides of his slim waist, Gregg lost it -- any composure he had left, and a great amount of bro batter. We pledges knew what we were doing, we stayed on him like leeches on a pig.
"AA! AAAHH!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAAAA!!!"
Unable to collapse, Gregg swayed like a defeated bull in the ring. Dead on his feet, ready to topple forward, we pledges reached to hold him upright, bracing him on all sides as he gasped for breath between sobs.
"EEEEEESSSSSS!! EEEEEEEESSSSSSS!! OOOOOOOOOoFFF!!! AWWWWWWFFFFFFFFF!!!"
He was either asking us to stop or else wanting to get off again. We decided he meant the latter.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
We pledges soldiered on, ramping up our efforts. We were only allowed to suck on his knob, so it was raw and raging pretty darn quickly. Josh and I were now chewing those big pulpy nipples. Gregg wouldn't even be able to tolerate a silk sheet for the next couple of days.
Then a car jack welded to a two foot plate was brought in and put between his legs. Fixed to the top was an eight inch dildo that fit tightly in Greggs shit shoot once it was jacked in. With his knees only slightly bent, Greg was impaled and helpless. Every wriggle, flinch or twist caused him to grind against the stone-hard invader. His love nut was going to be one hurting unit by the time we all were done.
During the next hour, we dragged two more loads out of the man's knob while he whimpered and howled hoarsely. Helplessly impaled he twisted and shuttered. Struggling always to stay upright, his bound arms bulged with the effort, his pecks hardened over and over, pulling at the tender nipples caught in Josh's and my teeth.
Inspired by our dedicated work, we pledges had beaten off, each at least once, coating Gregg's legs, groin and melons. There was a whole lot on the floor too. While we used spatulas to scrape up our goo off his flawless skin and the floor boards, our sponsor brothers removed the dildo and moved a table in front of him. They adjusted the clamps on this boots so they hinged forward and he could bend his knees and lean forward at the waist. They strapped him face down. The table had a padded cut out at either end so his dick and balls hung through at one end and his face was on display at crotch height. The wiffle ball was changed out for a ring gag. All the cum we pledges had coated him with was poured into an empty caulk tube, then gunned up Gregg's crapper. There was a hell of a lot of it. This was lucky for Gregg, because our resident frat brothers then formed a line and each fucked him at least twice, each time sticking their multiply cum covered dicks in his mouth for some recovery time. The squishing sounds from his pussy were amazingly obscene. It only made the frat men hornier and harder. Lance and Clyde were especially rough while they fucked him at both ends...twice.
Josh and I settled in under the table, sucking and gently chewing on Gregg's knob and balls as he slowly grew hard yet again, in spite of himself. We took turns. While we were at it we managed to catch a bunch of the cum that dripped out of his arse and down his balls, keeping the floor clean beneath us.
There was a fucking lot of cum that came out of his arse, and it was a fucking lot of cum that we all kept working out of him. You've never heard such mewling and squealing! Poor guy was going to have to send his dick and arse away for a vacation!