Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an261414@anon.penet.fi (Amacher)
Date: Sat,  6 May 1995 16:59:59 UTC
Subject: Swim Team Initiation (m/m, bond)

    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.