Date: Sun, 13 Oct 1996 11:23:14 -0700
From: John Anonymous MacDonald <nobody@cypherpunks.ca>
Subject: The Initiation
                                     
                              The Initiation
                            By Jackson Amacher

     
     "All right, gentlemen!," boomed Richard to the line of freshmen in
front of him. "Strip!"
     
     The frosh just stood there, grinning nervously.
     
     "He means it," Gary said quietly, and flicked on his truck's
headlights. Everyone else did the same thing. Our trucks were all in a
circle, pointing at the freshmen.
     
     One of the frosh glanced at the others, and then smiled and started to
pull up his shirt. Sitting in the passenger seat of Richard's truck, I took
another sip of my beer and felt my dick throb as I got my first look at the
guy's chest. His pecs bulged out smoothly from his torso, topped by two
small, dark brown nipples that showed up well against his pale flesh. I
watched the ridge of muscles on his flank shift as he anxiously folded his
shirt and tossed it to the side.
     
     Seeing him, the other frosh began to take their stuff off, too. All
the guys snickered and egged them on. A few of the frosh were laughing, but
most seemed concerned about what we were going to make them do next.
     
     Richard was watching the initiation with a big smile on his face. He
turned his head and looked at me. "The team has been waiting for this for
three years!," he said.
     
     "I'll bet," I answered, smiling at him.
     
     Before long, all ten of them were bare-chested, but only a few of the
frosh were taking off their jocks. I noticed Evan's video camera for the
first time, and laughed. I was glad I joined the swim team after my family
had moved to Dover, Wisconsin in the middle of my Junior year.
     
     "Just what I love to see!," shouted Richard. "Fresh young meat! Check
out those asses, guys!" The other guys laughed at Richard, knowing he
wasn't serious. The frosh were all starting to look a bit nervous. "Don't
be shy, gentlemen - hand it all over. Hurry up, you fuckers!"
     
     The last of the frosh pulled off their white underwear, and the ten of
them stood in the glare of our headlights buck naked. For a few moments, we
just let them stand there. I drank in the sight of those ten perfectly fit
young men, their cocks and firm white butts sitting in humid August air.
     
     Finally, Richard gave the signal. "Round 'em up, guys!" Smiling, I
grabbed the bandana I had with me. Taking care to shove my erect penis down
my right pant leg where no one could see it, I opened the truck door and
joined the others outside.
     
     Everyone ran to grab a frosh. Some tied up their kids; others, like
me, just blindfolded their catches. I got a look at Gary lording over a
naked, blindfolded kid with his hands tied behind his back.
     
     "Take this egg!," he shouted, sticking a Grade A in the kid's mouth.
"Don't let it break, or you'll be shitting egg yolk when I get through with
you!" The blindfolded head nodded obediently.
     
     "All right, load 'em in," Richard cried cheerfully. We started herding
the kids towards our trucks, pushing the helpless, blindfolded bunch away
from the piles of clothing laying on the ground. Most of the kids could
walk, but some guys (like Gary) made theirs crawl.
     
     I jumped into Richard's truck and glanced back at the two kids lying
in the cargo bed.
     
     "Bring back memories for you?," I asked him.
     
     "Yeah, but not for you, eh?," Richard answered. He gave me one of his
odd smiles. It reminded me of how he had smiled at the frosh a few minutes
ago. "We'll have to see what we can do about you."
     
     I glanced down to avoid his look. None of the guys had ever given me
much trouble about transferring my way into the team rather than "earning"
the right to be there like the frosh were doing tonight. As I glanced away,
I saw a bulge on Rich's right pant leg similar to mine.
     
     
     
     Dover's main drag begins at a turn off the highway, follows through
the main business district, goes past an abandoned farm, and leads to the
high school. That night, we were interested chiefly in the abandoned farm.
More accurately, we were interested in the tattered fence that used to be a
barrier between old Phelps' place and the road that four hundred kids were
going to use tomorrow to get to school.
     
     The fence was Richard's idea. Each year, seniors changed the
initiation slightly: it kept the frosh from knowing exactly what would
happen to them. Last year, they shaved all the froshs' hair off; before
that, they drew bikinis on their chests with permanent markers the night
before a big meet. This year, the goal was total humiliation. Some of the
guys were a bit nervous about Richard's plan, but he seemed so sure of
himself that no one spoke up. It's not for nothing that he's captain.
     
     One by one, we grabbed the guys out of the backs of our trucks and
lined them up in front of what was left of the fence. Most of the fence had
rotted away; only about twenty vertical steel poles spaced four feet apart
from each other were left.
     
     I and two other guys stood behind the first frosh. He was shifting
nervously, trying to cover his dick with his hands and swat mosquitoes at
the same time. Gary went up to him and asked:
     
     "Which do you like more- your swim team, or your school's senior
class?"
     
     The blindfolded frosh paused for a second, and answered, "The senior
class!"
     
     "Then you're an asshole," Gary answered, and signaled to the three of
us. We grabbed the kid and tied him spread-eagle between two of the posts,
with his two cute, rounded butt cheeks facing the road.
     
     Gary asked the rest of the blindfolded frosh the same question. The
ones that answered "The swim team!" were branded "dicks," and tied up with
their cocks flopping at the road. One wiseass just answered, "Seniors
suck!." We tied him upside down.
     
     When we had all of them where we wanted them, Richard spoke up. "Now,
gentleman, if anyone asks you which class is the best in this school, how
are you going to answer?"
     
     This part of the initiation never changed. "Seniors rule!," the frosh
answered.
     
     "What was that?" cried Gary.
     
     "Seniors rule!"
     
     The guys starting laughing and giving each other high fives. I stood
for a moment, admiring all of those helpless, hard freshman bodies on
display for everyone to see. Some of them were flexing against their ropes,
trying to break free. I could see one guy twitch when a fly landed above
his dick. I caught myself checking to see if any of their cocks were as
erect over all of this as mine. Except for the guy hanging upside down,
their wands were all limply pointing at their feet.
     
     "Keep saying it, gentlemen!," Richard called out as he walked back
towards the trucks. "Keep it up until we tell you to stop!"
     
     Turning to us, he said, quietly:
     
     "We'll come back in three hours to cut them down. They'll only miss
homeroom that way." He gave us one of his smiles. "I'll see all of you guys
back at my place in fifteen minutes," he said to us. "First I gotta piss."
     
     Richard walked to the other side of the road, entering the thick
brush. Since he was my ride, I just sat on the hood of his truck while the
other guys drove away. Evan left his video camera behind on a tripod, to
make sure the frosh kept singing the praises of the Senior class.
     
     "Hide this in the brush back there before you leave, ok?" he asked. I
nodded.
     
     After I was alone with the frosh, I walked up closer to them. They
were all hot, but I still had a thing for the brave guy who was the first
to get naked. His tool was by far the longest of any of them; it flopped
lazily from a small patch of brown pubic hair. He had a great face to
match, topped with a cute flat top that was combed back.
     
     I noticed that he wasn't shouting his lines as loudly as the others.
Taking my chance, I swatted his butt, delighting in the feel of the firm
muscles under his baby-smooth skin. "Keep shouting, fuckers! This isn't
going to be over for a while!," I shouted. That should explain to the guys
watching the tape why I got this close, I thought.
     
     I walked back to Evan's camera, and took it into the brush. As I was
positioning it so that just the lens stuck out, I heard some rhythmic
shaking off to my left. I walked a few steps, and peered from behind the
branches.
     
     Richard was there, his pants at his ankles and his bare ass facing me.
I didn't have a clear view, but I could've sworn I saw his left hand gently
probe the gap between his butt cheeks while his right hand did its work.
     
     Slowly, I walked closer and watched the ripples on his back move while
his hand moved up and down his pecker. He began to arch his head back,
moaned softly, and stuck his left hand under his shirt to feel his nipples.
Before I could take another step forward, he suddenly tensed up, pulled up
his pants, and turned straight towards me.
     
     I thought he couldn't see me at first, so I turned around and
immediately started walking away. I didn't get far before I heard him call
out to me, accusingly:
     
     "Are you done gawking at the freshmen, Tom, or should we stay a while
longer?"
     
     I turned around and tried to glare at him. "Who's gawking?," I asked
defensively.
     
     "Shut your fucking mouth. I saw your dick almost jump out of your
pants when those guys started stripping."
     
     "Do you always look at other guys' dicks?," I asked, doing my best to
turn the tables. In the distance, we heard the freshman shout, "Seniors
rule!"
     
     "You know what I mean. It really sucks, you getting do this initiation
without ever having to go through it yourself."
     
     "I haul ass in the water just like everyone else. I didn't choose to
miss my frosh year here," I shot back.
     
     "Fuck you, Tom. It's not the same, and you know it."
     
     I looked right in his eyes. We were silent for a moment. I thought
about the bulge in his pant leg and his urgent need to "piss," and decided
to take my chances.
     
     "Well, Richard, if you want to see me naked, let's go."
     
     Before I could let myself reconsider, I peeled off my shirt and threw
it off into the brush. Richard just stood there, looking a bit shocked.
     
     "Tom, you don't need to do this," he started.
     
     To answer him, I just kicked off my shoes and reached up to unbutton
my pants.
     
     Suddenly, he was directly in front of me. He kissed me quickly, pulled
back, and then kissed me again, long and hard. I felt his hard nipples
press through the cotton in his T-shirt against my bare skin.
     
     "Seniors rule!," shouted the frosh.
     
     I undid the button on my slacks, pulled them off, and threw them
somewhere behind me. Richard's eyes went down to my tool, jutting straight
out from my hips and pushing as hard as it could against my briefs. He went
down on his knees and mouthed my cock through the cotton, sending a jolt
through my body.
     
     Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my hands, lifted them up,
and forced me backwards. Grabbing some hanging vines, he tied each of my
hands firmly to a tree, leaving me as helpless as the tender young men
across the street.
     
     This time I joined them: "Seniors rule!"
     
     Richard didn't say a thing, but reached to my elastic waistband and
tugged off my briefs, throwing them somewhere behind him. He stood back for
a moment, his eyes traveling up and down my naked body.
     
     "Hell," he said, and took off his own shirt and pants.
     
     His body made the kids across the street look like the newspaper
staff.  His pecs were two perfect, tanned mounds that melted together into
a light patch of hair. His biceps were perfectly balanced and rounded,
showing the results of three years of training. His bleach-white combed
cotton briefs were making a valiant effort to hold back his tremendous,
erect cock.
     
     Richard walked towards me, bent his head down, and licked each of my
nipples. I felt my dick pushing forward, straining to touch his body.
     
     "I'm going to give you the full treatment, Freshman," he said, looking
into my eyes.
     
     He walked behind the trees I was tied to. Before I realized it, his
hands flew in front of my face and he tied a piece of fabric in front of my
eyes. Where could he have found a blindfold?, I wondered, until I
recognized the feel of elastic and cotton.
     
     I stood there, helpless, for what seemed like a minute before anything
happened. Then I felt his fingers running down my back, over my rump, past
my flanks, intriguingly close to my dick, and up my belly. He started to
tickle my armpits. I strained against the vines he tied me with, but
couldn't escape.
     
     He didn't even have to grab my butt cheeks; his fire hose smashed
directly into my quietly vibrating hole and jammed in until I felt his body
pressed completely against mine. I gratefully flexed and pulled on my
restraints, doing my best to return his favors. I felt his hands return to
my body: teasing my armpits, rubbing my nipples, dancing on my stomach, and
then, finally, massaging my cock.
     
     As Richard thrust in and out, he expertly shot his hand up and down my
rod. I felt a hot spurt of his juice inside me, and squirted some of my own
on his hand.
     
     "Seniors rule!" This time, I was shouting the loudest.
     
     I felt him slowly withdraw from me, and I stood there trembling in the
August morning. Without a word, his hands came from in front of me and
pulled off my blindfold.
     
     I took my first look at his massive pipe. Its nine inches shot out
from Richard's flanks, glistening in the moonlight. The head was still
dripping.
     
     "Please," I whispered, straining against my bonds. "Please let me fuck
you."
     
     Richard just smiled. He reached over casually and tickled my ribs,
delighting in the total control he had over my body.
     
     "Please," I repeated, closing my eyes.
     
     Richard reached up, and I felt my hands come free. I leaped forward,
knocking him to the ground and flipping him over. My rod plunged into him,
squirting juice almost instantly. I rammed it all the way in and listened
to his delighted moans. I pulled it out an inch and then shoved it back in.
     
     "Seniors rule!," we shouted. I wasn't sure if the freshmen even said
it that time.
     
     As I frantically worked myself in and out of his gorgeous body, I
decided to pay him back for what he had just done to me on the tree. I let
my hands roam softly up his powerful, heaving flanks, and dug my fingers
between his ribs. As I began to tickle him, he laughed aloud and reached
back to slap my hands away.
     
     "You'll pay for that!," I taunted him. I pulled out, grabbed his hands
together, and tied them behind his back with some vine laying on the
ground. I stood up, walked over to a bush, and put my underwear back on.
     
     Richard was twisting his body back and forth, trying to break free of
the vines. I stood over him, grabbed his meat, and started to bring it
towards my mouth.
     
     "You said you'd meet the guys in fifteen minutes," I reminded him,
smiling.
     
     "Screw them," Richard answered.