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Nick 9 - Cool Nights
by Emile
Copyright 2007. This is a work of fantasy and the writer does not suggest or condone any particular activities. You should obey the laws of your juristiction, ie consensual sex between adults.
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Night had fallen, and the bonfire was blazing. Dozens of jocks and chicks were gathering around the fire, drinking, making out and showing the newbies what college was really all about. Despite the cold, the front row was mostly empty, tacitly reserved for BDT's. Only Brick and Jack were there, stretching their arms towards the heat. Jack was enjoying shooting the shit, and the brotherly way Brick would sling his arm over his shoulder and share his bourbon, but kept glancing over his shoulder for Nick, who'd been gone hours now. Each time he'd tried to excuse himself, Brick had brought him back in the fold, telling him the other guys were taking care of him. Finally, in the firelight he could make out a battered looking Nick stumbling towards them, between Seth and Zac. They sat down heavily next to them, but Seth separated Nick from Jack, so he couldn't grill him on his whereabouts. "Sorry guys" Seth languidly offered "we got caught up touring the frathouse..." Nick clutched his belly and burped, a milky white bubble over his lips that burst into a slick white drool down his chin, before he quickly wiped it away. Jack just stared, but the others grinned. "Oh yeah, Nick here just volunteered to take over Zac's role next year, didn't you Nicky boy!" Meanwhile Jack could see Zac's hand roving over Nick's thigh, squeezing Nick's hefty bulge through the material, making him wince. Jack started to stand, reaching to grab Nick by the scruff of the neck, and Nick looked up at him pleadingly. but Brick pulled him back down, whispering in his ear "Hey bro, isn't this what you wanted ... for someone to fuck him up bad ... just chill, I'll explain everything later. You're our bud, now, aren't you?" Jack sat back and relaxed, leaving Nick's silent plea unanswered.
Little did Nick know the rage in Jack's gut at seeing his personal fucktoy taken away from him - rage he'd never felt when they shared him on the farm. Soon Nick would bear the brunt of that rage. Fortunately for Nick, if any fortune ever shined on him, Jack was placated a little from the knowledge that in his pocket was a letter from the bursar, inviting him to apply for the biology scholarship. He was pretty much guaranteed it, as the only likely applicant, but when Jack returned with Nick to take it in the fall, he'd soon discover the danger of being at the mercy of Brick's uncle and, by extension, Brick himself. While Nick's hell would come at the hands of the rest of the frat, Jack would soon discover his new friend and roommate could make his life a thousand times worse. For now, though, the letter made him feel bound to the group - bound, that is, to let them do as they pleased with Nick.
Across campus, another golden haired boy, Reb, was also bound tightly to his desires, in the form of the newly pregnant Jennifer. They were both naked, tied in 69 position, her lips wrapped around his fuckbloated cock, his lips around an extra thick strap on dildo thrusting out from her lithe waist. The cocks made excellent gags, and the two moaned and drooled helplessly, their cries muffled completely by the girth of each other's dongs. Already Reb's lips were aching from being stretched, and his voice was going hoarse. From now on, the aching jaw and hoarse throat would be his daily company. The paralysing shots kept them from moving a muscle, but he'd tied them well for when the drugs wore off, mid-voyage, so they could squirm all they like but not escape. He loaded them effortlessly into a shipping crate, relishing their pleading eyes. He leaned in, pouring sticky honey over Reb's crotch, trapping the sticky mess in his pubes, then across Jenn's bursting tits, over her stomach and his, across to his heaving pecs, oozing down through the chest hairs, making his flesh crawl, and finally leaving a dollop to course down over her bush. Then he placed a false lid over them, sealing them in darkness. "Adios lovebirds" he cooed through the box, "but where I come from, this is what we do with people like you". In the dark, they felt the first tickles of insects crawling down from the top of the box, making for the honey and nipping savagely at their exposed flesh. Reb, who's manly body hair trapped most of the sap, was in for the worst. Chico nailed the lid down, just as two UPS guys arrived to take the delivery away. "LIVE BULL ANTS" was stencilled across the box, together with the order sheet for Chico's brother Emilio, back in Puerto Rico. Bull ant bites had a nasty habit of swelling, and he knew they would arrive covered in agonizing itchy marks. The deliverymen lifted the heavy box, staggering under the load, and Chico shrugged, sympathetically saying "Sorry 'bout the weight guys, those guys need lots of dirt to burrow. They can crawl around for days!" The UPS guys just nodded, for them it was just another box, about to join hundreds of others.
Reb, being a young hung blonde American, was in high demand, and was quickly sold into the sickest depravity on arrival. Only a week later, his screams would echo around the halls of his new home "Uh ... please, fuck my arse, PLEASE ... just please stop beating my balls.... please...". An hour after that, when one ball had smashed under a sickening thud, the cowboy's wish to have his virgin hole split apart would be granted, although he was such a blubbering mess he could barely cry out when the unlubed cock ripped through his innards. Chico had wanted him to suffer, and Emilio ensured his new owner would give him no end of pain.
Eighteen years later, when Reb's baby boy was as old as he was now, they would meet again, at Emilio's farm. His son, brought up by Emilio as an overseer, was a cruel and relentless man, his swarthy skin and gringo accent almost concealing his american heritage that only the dirty blonde hair gave away. They discovered Reb in their latest batch of 'returns' - a fucked out mess, gaping and scarred, tattooed and pierced from his forehead to his feet, a smooth fuckpig that had every hair on his body systematically ripped from the root. His smile was none to pretty, broken teeth and split lips, tether hooks through his lower lip and tongue, nor was his once wicked dick, hanging limp and deformed, broken, burned and stretched beyond all recognition. Massive welts over scars over scars told a story of years of abuse of his huge dong, and even now they could see ruby ribs along the shaft like cane marks, that on closer inspection were rods inserted below the skin. Only the hosepipe shoved between his split dicklips kept him functioning. He'd been de-nutted years ago at Chico's explicit request to his new owner, and two heavy steel orbs had been stitched into their place. Years of stretching the sac had taken their toll, the orbs replaced over and over until now they were baseball sized, knocking low against his thighs like a sack of oranges. He was still rugged, with his massive shoulders inked with every obscenity imaginable, but years of hard labour had made him lean and wiry. When he walked it was a limp, not from the legs, but from the brutal double fistfuckings they had subjected him to, the final chapter before his owner tired of him, his imagination running dry. His eyes were cast down, from dejection maybe, or the pain of his tortured body. Emilio, recognising in the face of the broken man the shadow of the once proud teen, whispered quietly to his son. In a loud voice, his son announced "Take this one to my private quarters". Reb looked up, not knowing if this meant reprieve or punishment. Emilio smiled at him, clearly relishing the subterfuge. "Ah, there are many experiments he wants to try. Tell me, are all those nerves in your ballbag still sensitive, even after they've been stretched like that?" Slowly and reluctantly, Reb nodded. "Excellent."
But that is then, and this is now - Nick's Summer, not Jack's Fall or Reb's Reunion. Nick sat uncomfortably on the log, gazing into the fire, trying to make himself invisible. From the daze, he heard his name being called - it was Brick signalling him to come over. He didn't really know Brick, except that he clearly liked Jack, which was dangerous, so he scurried over gingerly, just catching Jack's hiss in his ear as he passed - "you're dead!" Brick on the other hand, clean cut and well dressed, stood up and slung his arm over his shoulder, guiding him to keep walking away from the crowd and the bonfire. As they retreated to the woods, the air was cold and pains stabbed like knives. He was skittish, Brick could tell, but Brick was used to dealing with skittish colts - the trick was to make em trust you, then ride em hard. Brick knew already that Seth had dicked him, but preferred a slower mindfuck - and they had the whole semester ahead of them.
"So I don't hang out with Seth and the boys much" Brick started "thought we could get to know each other alone. Sometimes they can get a bit carried away, but my friends, well, they keep in line when I tell them to." Nick relaxed a little at this tiny window of hope on an otherwise bleak outlook. "Hey" he continued, squeezing Nick's shoulders lightly "quite solid shoulders you got there. You do sports?" Nick mumbled something about rowing, but in no time found himself swapping sculling stories with Brick. Despite the cold, the lingering odor of mixed sweat and juices, the pain of the grinding fuck, basically despite everything, he found himself falling under the hypnotic spell that Brick cast over everyone - the alpha male among alpha males. Somehow, rowing turned to bench presses, turned to strength competitions, and soon they were doing chin ups on oak branches, and crunching competitions on the grass, in their own world. Nick won the first, and lost the second, mostly from the shooting pain up his arsehole when he crunched, but he felt a determination ... a need ... to prove himself to Brick. Somehow, if you were in with Brick, you were right. Brick began running, and despite the pain, he jogged after him, pushing past the pain, focusing on achievement, doing something right that would make the summer more bearable. He sprinted past Brick, and the two raced across the field, stopping only when the reached the gym, both heaving from the exertion. Seeing the cinderblock building, Nick feared further feats, but Brick just clapped him on the back, "Say, kid, you're okay. Don't worry 'bout those other guys, come fall, you stick with me!"
They walked back to the campfire, which in their absence had died down to embers. Some brave souls were curled up near the fire, but few were left, and Jack nowhere to be seen. Seth and Zac, too, had gone. Nick sat down, suddenly exhausted, but Brick stayed standing, surveying the others like a kingdom. "Right, I'm gonna hit the sack. See ya." Brick started up the hill, whistling, leaving Nick in the cold campfire, alone. Somehow, Nick was happy, it was the first time in months he was alone.
Nick awoke to hoots and catcalls. He was lying on the grass, shivering, pretty much where he'd dropped off the night before. Only now he was naked - well nearly naked, except the steel cuff still wrapped round his bull balls and horsecock, and the huge dildo which had half slid out of his sloppy hole. Worse than naked, he was completely exposed. He went to cover himself from the gathering crowd leering at his body, and the thick dildo in particular, and heard Jack at his ear, hissing "fuck yourself with it". He was ashen, lying not 10 feet from the frathouse, Brick could see him at any moment, and now Jack was making him impale himself in front of a crowd! He whispered 'please', hand gripping the rubber stalk, ready to pull out or plunge in. Jack was relentless. "I'm your ride". Agonizingly, he slid the dildo back up, to cheers and hoots from the crowd. This was whack, a bunch of college dudes whistling and clapping, while a naked hung jock fucked himself with a supersized dong. With football cheers they egged him on harder and faster, making him punch the dong up his guts until he was grunting in pain, sweat flying from him, his dork swollen from the friction on his love nub. Dudes were taking pictures! He kept going, faster and faster, fearing BDT discovering him. Finally, to a cheering roar, the bat ground along his prostate, sending him over the edge, and he screamed, as his cock throbbed in vain, dribbling goop, his heavy load caught behind the steel cuff. The crowd hung round, some of the guys sporting big boners jeering 'sick' and 'twisted', spitting on him and kicking him lightly, a prelude to some fag bashing fun. But Jack was there, and had no interest in visiting hospital, so threw down Nick's clothes, and told the group the 'prank' was over.
Unknown to them both, Seth and Brick saw the whole thing from their window, and whacked off in time, hatching plans for when they got their hands on those two studs. They shot their loads, Brick and Seth screaming "SNATCHER" in unison. Snatcher was the frat's unofficial mascot. It was, appropriately, a double headed vibrator, homemade and industrial strength, that the frat boasted could get two girls off like they were on speed dial. On high, it could burn a girls clit off in 30 minutes. The Snatcher was kept in a glass cabinet in the basement, and was almost never used - maybe once in three years. Only the loosest girls on campus could hack it, it was too big, and way too powerful for all but the pros. Everyone knew about it, and sorority chicks would wet themselves if the BDT guys even mentioned it. Secretly, though, what the gang had always wanted to do, ever since they were freshmen, was try the Snatcher on a couple of dudes. They knew it would take months of training - regular butt fucking, constant stretching, hours being reamed out by normal vibrators - for any guy to attempt it without permanent damage. But now they'd just found the perfect pair to train.
Before they even hit the road, Nick and Jack's journey had already started. Everything, from the Bursar's letter to dildo fuck on the grass, was pushing them to the edge of a place they could scarcely imagine. There was no turning back - Nick's scholarship was assured, and the whole farm would make sure he went. The ''character building' roughhousing at the academy would only strengthen their resolve. Jack's ego and possessive nature would make him follow. As the summer fell into twilight, and they would cross from boys to men, a painful and hard transformation, preparation for their life ahead.
Online, an update blinked on to "FratCam". Alongside high res pictures of his outdoor session, and the frathouse video of his earlier skewering, a new thread appeared. "Break our Pledges!" The posts were mounting.