Frat Initiation

He lived in town in a crappy small apartment he had had since leaving the care of the state - he'd never known either of his birth parents, and been shuffled around to various foster homes and orphanages most of his life. When adolescence hit, Tim had had a hard time of it - the people he was living with at the time were not especially kind to him, so Tim had signed up for all sorts of afterschool activities so he didn't have to go home until he absolutely had to. By the time he'd finished high school, he'd quit nearly all of them and spent hours after school in the weight room or running.

By the time he got to college, he could have killed in any regional bodybuilding competition, and likely won some national junior titles, but he never had much interest in it. He lifted at first to get away from the things he didn't like in his life, but now did it because he enjoyed it.

Tim loved the power his body gave him over others. He wasn't an asshole about it, but he got off on how he'd get stared at in the grocery store. He worked for the campus landscaping service, and when it was warm out shed his shirt at every opportunity, reveling in the appreciative (and sometimes lustful) looks of the other guys on the crew or of the people walking by. At the gym he'd get off on how the other guys in the gym admired him as he shoved the weights up and down, up and down. When he was done working out he'd stare at himself in the mirror at the gym for a few minutes, flexing his pecs or arms and admiring himself.

One day, there were only three guys in the gym - Tim, taking his usual narcissism time, and two other guys doing curls. He couldn't really help but overhear their conversation.

"Yeah, dude, they actually pay you, like, fourteen hundred for having good grades. That's the only way I can afford the membership fee," one said.

Pay for good grades? Tim thought. This sounded interesting - as a foster kid, he didn't have any parents he could really fall back on, and when he left for college he pretty much told Roy and Nadine to go fuck themselves - Roy would get drunk and try to fuck him, and Nadine just popped tranquilizers all the time. Tim survived on the stipend from his scholarship and the campus job, and barely made enough to feed himself, buy his supplements, and pay his rent.

"Can you join after your freshman year?" the other guy asked.

"Yeah, it's just a little harder. They always want guys with good grades and shit, though. You should come to rush. Initiation's hell though, and they always make it harder on the older guys."

Tim looked at the guy in the mirror and noticed the guy's shirt - Nu Tau Rho. He knew they were a newer fraternity, and their national chapter had just built them a huge nice new frat house near the athletic center.

"I can't join a fraternity," Tim thought to himself, "Even if they do pay." He thought of all the reasons he couldn't - no time, no money, but most of all, Tim was gay.

It was another of the reasons he just worked out all the time. Tim had known pretty well that he was queer early on in life, and was okay with it, but just, well...his sexual tastes ran toward the bizarre. "You're not even a real man," George had told him after catching a twelve-year-old Tim in the bathroom with a gay porn mag he'd found. George was his third foster father, a construction worker whose IQ was somewhere near his belt size. George flexed his bicep and pointed to it, Tim cowering in the corner expecting another beating. "This is what makes a man," George continued. "Hell, if I had my way, pussies like you would have their balls cut off 'em."

George hadn't beaten him that night but Tim ran away soon after. He'd left on a rainy night in the spring, walking down the city streets with no particular destination, muttering to himself. "Asshole. I'd like to cut his balls off," young Tim muttered to no one in particular.

For years, even as much as he hated George, Tim had still felt like he deserved to be castrated. At first it was guilt over being gay or not being masculine enough, but with time he accepted his queerness, and by George's definition was more of a man than that fuck was, but still, he fantasized about his big balls being tied off with twine and cut free from his body, about his cock being chopped off with a butcher knife or cigar cutter. He'd think about knives to do it, machines, other people. At home when he got horny he'd tie them off with string or a rubber band, and sometime in high school had gotten into putting hot needles through his scrotum and then testicles. Toward the end of high school he'd started cutting on his dick with a knife one of his foster dads had given him. The pain made it all really come alive to him; made him feel like more of a man for being able to take it.

He'd squeeze his balls through the thick rubber band or tie the string really tight until his balls started to swell a bit and his sac turned purple, then heat up his surgical needles with a lighter, press the point to the skin, close his eyes, and just shove it through the skin between his balls and his cock, piercing it all the way through. The neck of his scrotum was now just a big scar from all the times he'd done it. After putting a few of those through himself, he'd get the courage up to spear a nut. One time he'd taken a really long needle and shoved it through both at the same time, pushing it through both testicles, then cumming in big spurts all over his chiseled stomach, thinking about the damage the needles were doing to his balls, and wishing he could just make them go away.

His self-mutilation ritual was also self-perpetuating. At this point his cock and balls were so scarred up he couldn't really feel them that well anymore unless he poked them with something. He never showered much in public either, unwilling to deal with people staring at his genitals.

So there was the rest of the problem: would a frat really take a guy who's queer? He wasn't going to try and pull it off closeted; he respected himself too much for that, and if they found about his sexual habits there was no way they'd let him stay.

Still, fourteen hundred bucks a semester just for doing what he did anyway...that was certainly tempting. He'd have to look into it.

Tim headed back home to his tiny shoebox apartment and stripped his sweaty workout clothes off. He would have showered at the gym but nobody else was in it, and if he couldn't show off then he figured he might as well come back home and do it.

He got naked and stood in the bathroom admiring himself for a few minutes, flexing his pecs alternately, feeling up his own muscles, and generally getting his courage up for what he was about to do. He got the thick rubber band he'd been using lately out of his room and looped it twice around his balls, wincing as he forced them through the second time. His cock was already rock-hard, and his balls hanging low in their sac.

Tim jacked himself a few times, looking at his muscles, and saying to himself in the mirror, "Yeah, flex, you big bull! You can take this...you can take this!" He flicked himself in the nut, feeling the pain, and held his first needle over a lighter until it was good and hot. "Oh yeah, you big stud. You can take this..." Tim held his right nut inbetween his fingers and positioned the needle, the heat burning his skin a bit.

He sucked in his breath and held it for a moment, then shoved the needle through his sac and his nut. "Ahh..." he moaned a bit, and held himself steady on the sink, relishing the pain. Once he'd recovered, he heated up the second needle and found a spot without much scarring. It was getting harder and harder to push the needles through his balls now, and he idly wondered how much more damage they could take.

Another breath, and then he shoved it through and out the other side, pinning his left ball in his sac. He now had two needles, one spearing each nut, pushed in from front to back.

"Oh, yeah," he muttered, and struck a most-muscular pose, admiring his body as he endured the pain. "Fuck, yeah!" he shouted to the room, taking his thick cock in hand and jacking it quickly, imagining someone taking a knife to his balls, or crushing them between two bricks, or whatever...anything. As he moved his hand up and down his beer-can dick, rubbing his fingers over its flared head, his balls swung, striking against his taint and hurting him even more.

Next for the last part of his little ritual. Tim grabbed the knife he'd been using for this since he was in high school and found a good spot on the side of his cock. He closed his eyes, poked it just in under the skin, and ran the blade down his erect cock, imagining it severing his penis clean off instead of just giving it the gash it was. When he got to his head he started just nicking it, picking away at the corona. His head used to have a wide flare on it, but after years of hacking at it (and cutting little pieces off when he got he nerve) it was just surrounded by a thick white scar. "Yeah, bull stud," he muttered to himself some more. "Watch that useless cock get cut!"

He came quickly, as he always did when he speared his balls, shooting thick white ropes up onto the mirror and spattering blood all over the sink. Once the fuzziness of his orgasm passed, he gently removed the needles from his testicles and hopped in the shower, gently rubbing them with antiseptic to avoid infection, and then bandaging them later. It would be at least two weeks before he would try to jerk it again...

The next day he found out when rush was for the Nu Tau Rho's - this weekend, Friday night, at the house. He decided to go, even if he didn't think it would work out. "I should at least find out for sure," he thought to himself.

Friday he finished up his workout and got ready for the party. He shaved his face all nice and baby-smooth, the way he liked it, and got dressed - tight white sleeveless t-shirt, another tight semi-transparent button-down shirt over that, khaki shorts and sneakers.

Heads turned when he showed up at the party. Both the pledges and the brothers seemed pretty impressed by him, but he didn't really think much of them. He did find out the deal on GPA, though - if you kept it above a 3.5, they gave you cash every semester and waive the membership dues. He'd done the math; that money would help immensely, and with his 4.0 he could even live in the house for free...not that he was sure he wanted to.

Still, the money was attractive, so he signed up. The guy that took his form looked it over. He was pretty good looking; a little skinny with shaggy blond hair and a scraggly goat. At first the dude seemed a little surprised that a junior would want to rush, but when he saw Tim's GPA, his eyes lit up. "Wow, man. We really need to get our average up - a guy with a 4.0 would be great for us," he told Tim. "You still gotta do all the initiation stuff, though."

"That's okay," Tim told him. "Everybody else does it, right?" he smirked at the dude.

"Yup. Everybody does it. It's tough, but if you come through it, you'll be a man's man." The guy ran his eyes down Tim's body. "You must work out all the time, uh..." he glanced down at Tim's form, "Tim. I'm Josh, by the way."

Tim felt a little flush. "Uh, yeah, I really like lifting. Always trying to get bigger, you know?" he smiled at the guy.

"Yeah, dude, keep it up. It's obviously working. I mean, compared to you," Josh started, pulling up his sleeve and flexing his bicep, "I'm tiny."

Hell yeah you are, Tim thought to himself. "Just keep working it, man."

"How big are yours, anyway?" Josh asked him. "You mind showing me?"

Oh, yeah, Tim thought. "Uh, no, I don't mind." Tim pulled off the button down shirt and flexed his arm.

"Holy shit, man, it's like you got a couple of guinea pigs in there!" Josh exclaimed. He reached out and grabbed Tim's arm, not really even thinking about what he was doing. He squeezed and Tim flexed harder.

As if suddenly self-aware, Josh pulled off. "Strong like bull," he joked.

Tim laughed. "Yeah. Strong like bull."

"Man, it'll be nice having a guy like you around here," he commented. "We get all these circuit boys wanting to join up..." he motioned toward the room.

Circuit boys? Tim wondered to himself, and looked about. Hmm...it looked like a lot of these guys were, well, kinda gay. "What's a circuit boy?" he wondered aloud.

"Eh? These kids that hit up parties all night long. You know, real effeminate, like, say, that guy," he pointed to one of the hopeful pledges, a short skinny white kid with a pronounced lisp. "We try to keep the frat a little more masculine than that. You know, try to give a more positive image of gay people and shit."

"This is a gay fraternity?" Tim remarked aloud, surprised.

"Uhh...yeah, but we actually have a few straight and bi guys. That a problem?" Josh went on the defensive.

"No, no...I'm queer, man, I just didn't even realize." That was a relief. There went one of his problems with the frat. This was starting to sound a lot better.

Josh just laughed. "Man, there's a surprise. Most guys try to join us just because they're queer. You're probably the first not to."

Another guy came up to turn his little form in. "Hey, I gotta do all this, but hang around, man. Maybe we can meet up later." Josh winked at Tim.

"Definitely." Tim turned around and saw the party in a whole new light. He hung out the next few hours, meeting the brothers. They all seemed like pretty okay guys, and they were all sure excited that he wanted to join, both because of his grades and, although they didn't say it at first, his body. Tim's opinion of the whole thing was rapidly turning around - for a guy who liked to be admired, having an entire fraternity of guys wanting to feel him flex or whatever was making him heady.

As the night wore on, Tim was getting ready to leave but was stopped by Josh, who came jogging up. "Hey, dude," he got Tim's attention.

"Hey. What's up? I was just leaving..." Tim answered with a smile.

Josh grabbed his arm and plead, "No...not yet. Once most of these guys take off, we're pulling out the beer. You're invited to stay if you want."

"I dunno, man, I gotta study..." Tim protested.

"No, no, dude, it's a Friday night. You can study tomorrow or whatever, but man, stay out tonight! It'll be fun, ya big bull!" Josh teased.

Well, that pushed my buttons, Tim thought. "I guess so," he relented. "Just for a coupla beers, though."

"I was kind of hoping for all night," Josh smiled, "but a couple of beers is better than nothing, I guess." With that, he took off back over to his post for the night.

Tim wandered around, waiting for the people to leave, and then finally one of the brothers came out and announced, "Okay guys, we gotta get everybody out." Tim looked over and Josh, who was slowly shaking his head no. Tim just leaned back up against the wall and waiting while the brothers ushered the party guests out, smiling and shaking hands.

"Man, finally," Josh muttered as he approached Tim. "I swear, I'm never working the damn stand again. Stuck for the whole party behind that damn table...anyway, dude, how you doin'?" Josh greeted him.

"I'm all right," Tim smiled. Josh beckoned him inside, where one guy had already started pulling beer cans out of a cooler and passing them out. They each got one and found a seat on one of the plush couches around the room, drinking the beer and making small talk while everybody filtered in from around the house.

The guy who had ended the party stood up. "Okay, so we got three potential pledges over tonight. I'm Harry, the president this year. Why don't you all introduce yourselves?" he pointed at Tim, a pretty thick blond redneck-looking dude, and a black guy with a shaved head.

The black guy went first. "Uh, hey, I'm Andrew," he sort of waved to the room. Everybody looked at Tim next.

"Hi, I'm Tim," he spoke loudly, trying to project confidence.

Last was the redneck dude. "Hey, y'all, I'm Cyrus," he spoke slowly and with a deep, relaxed voice, and just a bit of an accent.

"Party on," Harry raised his beer, and sat back down.

Guys started getting up and moving about the room. Tim, Josh, and this other guy, Eric, ended up over in a corner talking. Eric was this redheaded kid from south Boston - Irish, big nose. He was the frat's general all-around athlete - the guy played soccer, football, basketball, baseball, you name it, and could kick your ass in most of them besides. They, of course, immediately got into a conversation about working out, while Josh piped up occasionally.

"I dunno, man, I've never gotten much out of power sets," Eric said. "They just don't seem to do much for me."

"You can't do them all the time," Tim countered. "You just do them for a bit, then go back to your old method, and a month or two later do another few days of them." Tim flexed his pecs, as if to make his point. "I've made some great gains that way," he finished.

"Maybe I just need a new workout partner," Eric winked. "Man," he shook his head, looking Tim up and down, "you're just huge."

Tim, starting to feel the alchol, blushed a little bit. "He's a beast," Josh joked. "A big bull. All he needs now is a ring in his nose." Tim really blushed now.

"Man, dude, your ears are the color of my pubes," Eric chortled. He drew in close to Tim, who was a bit buzzed. He didn't drink much. "You must really get off on being admired for your body, eh?" he smiled a conspiratorial smile, and Tim just smiled and looked down, at little embarrassed at being found out so easily.

Jesus saved him. Well, the hay-soos variety, a black-haired Brazilian guy, damn hot. "Hey, who's up for strip poker?" he butted in. "We need three more."

"I'm in," Eric instantly agreed.

"Me too," Josh barked out.

All three of them looked at Tim, who had recovered from his blushing spell. "Well, uh, I gotta get going soon, and..."

"No way," Josh interrupted him. "C'mon, we're just getting started."

"Yeah, man, you should stick around," Jesus interjected.

Eric just stared at Tim's crotch.

A few minutes later the guys had all assembled in the kitchen with fresh beers. Jesus was dealing first, and to his right were Eric, Tim, Josh, Cyrus, and Joey. Joey was a senior this year, one of these Italian greaseheads; he was some kind of musical genius and on scholarship, but to hear him talk he sounded more like a mechanic in Brooklyn.

"Okay, boys, these are the rules," Jesus explained as he dealt the cards. "Nothing wild, five card draw. No all in, only one raise. We don't want to end the fun too quickly, yah?" Everybody agreed, and took a few swigs of beer. Tim was pretty buzzed by this point, and both Josh and Eric kept 'accidentally' brushing up against his legs.

Tim didn't really know poker all that well, but knew the lower hands. He got a pair of sixes and a king off the deal, traded in the chaff, and got crap back again. Eric passed, and so did Tim and Josh. Cyrus bid, and everybody stayed in. "Okay boys, let's see 'em." Everybody put their cards on the table.

Joey had lost the hand, and off went his shoes. "Hey, you gotta take socks off too if you're taking shoes off," Jesus told him.

"What?" Joey protested, half-jokingly. "One article! Hell, we used to play shoes each counted separately!"

"No way, man. Then people wearing sandals n' shit get shafted," Jesus argued.

"Rrrrghgh!" Joey groaned in mock frustration, and peeled off his socks.

Eric chimed in. "I thought it was the guys not wearing underwear that got shafted." Everybody laughed and Eric dealt the next hand...

Well, pretty soon it got down to the wire. Jesus was in his underwear, Eric still had his pants on. Josh was down to a pair of ratty boxers. Tim had only lost his footwear and his outer shirt; he was tied with Joey for the most clothes still on. Cyrus had on his tighty-whities and his boots ("My boots are the last thing to go, boys."), and finally, Joey had still only lost his shoes.

"C'mon, boys, down to the wire," Josh chattered. "Two guys, nearly down for the count!"

About three people made "I'm up for it," jokes, two of them not even playing. More people were hanging out in the kitchen, surreptitiously watching the card players as they got progressively closer to naked. Josh lost the hand. After they showed his cards, he just stood up, sighed, and dropped his shorts while the other guys laughed. "We know who's the bitch tonight!" came the jokes.

Tim appreciated the look at Josh's body. The kid was lean, pretty well defined, with just a sprinking of hair on his chest and belly, leading to sparse brown patch. His dick was pretty average, but his balls... "Man," Tim thought to himself. "Those are fucking huge!"

And he was right. Together Josh's balls were bigger than Tim's fist. "Yeah, yeah," Josh blushed.

"Hey, you know the rules," Jesus chided him. "Get me a beer."

Josh sighed and went to get Jesus a beer. "See, anybody that loses is beer bitch for the rest of the game," Eric instructed Tim and Cyrus. "You have to do more or less what anybody still playing tells you to."

"Ah, sheeit," Cyrus cursed, laughing. "'course, I could use a beer. Yo, fetch me one," he told Josh just as Josh brought Jesus his beer. Josh rolled his eyes and turned back around.

Eric lost the next round and revealed that under his shorts he only had a jock on. He shook his ass a little to the table and Joey dealt the next hand. Tim lost his t-shirt, pulling it off slowly and flexing a little as he did it. Cyrus was staring at him so hard he didn't even realize one of the cards he thought was a heart was actually a spade, which meant the flush he had was pretty much worthless, and there went his tighty-whities. He had a nice, thick, uncut cock, and balls that looked pretty normal until Tim looked back over as Josh's, which swung heavily back and forth as he walked.

"Good thing you can't lose these, eh?" Harry smiled as he grabbed Josh's exposed nuts while he was on his way to the bathroom. All the brothers giggled a bit. Tim turned back to the game. Jesus lost next, dropping his undies to reveal a smallish black cock, but with the same amazingly huge balls as Josh's! Tim was amazed. "What are they feeding these guys?!?" he wondered. Next came Cyrus, who grudgingly pulled his boots off

Tim got really nervous the next round when his pants came off. He had also only come in a jock. "His ass's as nice as the rest of him," somebody hooted, and Tim flexed it for a moment. Josh reached over and slapped it.

Tim was taken aback, then gave Josh his best superior look. "Get me a beer, boy," he ordered him. Everybody hooted, and Tim sat back down for what would be his last round. All eyes were on him as he stood up and dropped his jock; his thick cock flopping out, chestnut sized balls swinging free.

"Yeeeah, good n' smooth," Eric said to himself. "Up against the wall, man," Eric ordered him, and Tim walked naked over to the other three boys, who were leaning up against the kitchen wall in a row.

Eric dealt the next hand and Tim basked in all the eyes on him, mometarily forgetting how screwed up his dick looked. He remembered soon enough when a drunken brother asked where all the scars came from.

After Tim's ears turned bright red but before he had a chance to answer, Eric berated the guy. "None of your fucking business, Greg! Leave the guy alone." Greg, cowed, staggered off. "Besides, I bet they just give more texture when you're fucking, yah?" he smiled at Tim. Tim hesitantly smiled back.

"Hey, we should go streaking after this," Josh suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

"I dunno, man, runnin' nekkid always makes my nuts hurt," Cyrus said.

"I never thought so," Jesus disagreed.

"They hurt mine, too," Tim added in, hoping for a reason not to have to go running around the neighborhood naked.

"I don't think so," Eric shouted from across the room. "All four of ya, do a lap 'round the block!"

"What?" Cyrus protested.

"You gotta do what they tell you, man," Harry laughed. "Better get runnin'!"

With a hail of "Ah shits!" and other protestations, Josh and Jesus herded them out the door.

"C'mon, man, big man like you?" Jesus said to Tim. "I'd be showing off more if I looked like that. But big guy like you, bet you're slow," he jibed, and took off running.

"Slow?" Tim shouted after him. "I'll show you slow!" He was just drunk enough to chase Jesus down the street, outpacing him after the first turn. He pulled ahead of the others, with only Josh really keeping up to him, balls banging and dick flying about. Tim's balls bounced against his thighs as he ran. "Fuck, I wish they were just gone!" Tim thought to himself, keeping up the pace and getting back to the house just moments before Josh.

They staggered back into the kitchen panting, followed soon by Jesus and a while later by a very out-of-breath Cyrus. "Oh God, my balls hurt!" he exlaimed, and leaned up against the walls clutching it.

Josh leaned into Tim's ear and said, "Bet a big bull like you could run for miles, eh? Wouldn't matter to you if your balls hurt, would it, ya big bull!" Tim's dick started to get a little turgid.

Just as they got back, Eric and Joey showed their cards, and Eric threw his three-of-a-kind down to the table as soon as he saw Joey's full house. "Fuck!" he shouted, tore off his jock, and tossed it at Joey, his smooth-shaven beercan flared cock flopping down on top of, you guessed it, a well-stuffed sac. Joey's cock was short but thick, and growing a bit now that it was free of its confinement.

Joey dodged Eric's soiled jock and smiled. "You only had me by one hand, you know," he smiled conspiratorially, and pulled down the top of his pants to show he wasn't wearing any underwear. "And I'm drunk enough to wanna be naked, anyway." He dropped his pants, and, well, you get the picture. Huge nuts.

What the hell were they putting in the water here? Did they only take guys with huge balls or something? Tim didn't really want to ask, but was damn curious. He didn't have much time to think about it, as Josh whispered in his ear, "Meet me by the bathroom in five minutes; Eric and I wanna get some time alone with ya." Tim nodded, his already plump cock getting a bit harder at the thought. All worry of getting home in time for sleep and studying tomorrow was gone - for the first time in his whole life, Tim was thinking unhesitatingly of sex, with no worries about being judged for his gayness or scars.

He took the opportunity to piss before he got too hard to do it, then waited outside the bathroom for Eric to meet his eye and gesture toward the stairs. Tim followed him up, clothing forgotten, and down to the room at the end of the hall.

Josh was already inside, cock hard. Just seeing Josh's erection made Tim's pop up, and his formidable manhood sprang to full attention. He felt Eric's poke him from behind, and spun to see Eric's smiling face looking down at his body. "God, you're so fucking hot," Eric muttered, inspecting Tim up and down. His own shaven erection brushed up against Tim's, sending little waves of electricity up through his body.

Tim felt Josh's hands run down his sides, slick with oil, and continue onto his ass. Eric dropped to his knees and took what of Tim's cock he could into his mouth, working it slowly, deliberately. Josh continued to oil Tim up from behind, spreading it over his back, ass, legs, and arms. Tim obliged him by flexing each body part as Josh ran his hands over it, trying not to collapse from the pleasure of his first blowjob. After Josh had oiled up his arms, he whispered in Tim's ear, "C'mon, you big bull. Flex 'em and keep 'em flexed!"

Tim obliged, striking a double bicep pose and spreading his legs a little while Josh jerked him off a little, oiling up his cock and balls in the process. Eric and Josh both continued running their hands over Tim's hard, defined body, while Tim just struck poses, trying to keep his muscles flexed as hard as possible. His dick was having no trouble; Tim's scarred cockhead was a full two inches in diameter at this point, his massive dong sticking straight out ahead.

He felt the snap of a rubber band go around his scrotum, but ignored it, instead choosing to focus on Josh's voice as he kept telling Tim that he was a big bull, a macho man, strong, hard, a beast... He was vaguely aware of Eric snapping another band around his cock, making it grow so hard it hurt. Tim didn't even look down, but just tried not to cringe at the pleasure when Eric's hand would have a jerk and brush his cock. His normally rather insensitive dick was almost painful to the touch now, he was so turned on. He imagined the bands cutting off circulation, turning his cock and balls black and cold, so that they would have to be cut off.

Maybe that's why all the brothers have these enourmous balls, Tim thought. Maybe they all had theirs removed and replaced with bigger ones. That was a hot idea, and he nearly came at the thought. Maybe they were going to cut his off, fulfilling his dream!

Josh produced a tape measure and started measuring Tim's body, wrapping the measure around each bicep, his chest, his thighs and calves...Tim was about to explode. His balls were aching and purple; he cock growing almost numb. "A big bull," Eric muttered. "Maybe we should steer him."

"Maybe later," Josh replied. "For now we want him all excited like this. You are excited, aren't you, you big bull?" Josh asked Tim.

"Oh, yeah...oh, god!" he cried out as Eric brushed against his cockhead. Eric took a pair of scissors and held them up to the neck of Tim's scrotum. Tim just flexed harder, waiting for the pain, but it never came - just the snap as the Eric cut the rubber bands, first around his balls, then around his cock. The aching in his balls began to subside, but Eric kept it going by thwapping them with his finger.

"They do this to horses, you know, to make them run faster, or to bulls to make them angry," Eric whispered to Tim, rubbing up against his body, humping Tim's hip. Josh was down at the floor now, running his hands over Tim's buttocks, legs, thighs...all over his body, whispering admiring nothings as he did so.

"You like the thought of having these cut off, don't you?" Eric said in Tim's ear. Tim didn't answer, but just struck another pose. Eric squeezed Tim's nuts. You can take it, he said to himself, and didn't even wince at the pain. "This too, I bet, yah?" Eric pumped his cock a few times, then his own. "Of course, then you'd just have to take it from behind, wouldn't you?" Eric moved around behind him, his hard cock brushing up against Tim's toned glutes. Josh dropped to his knees and sucked Tim off while jacking himself.

Eric began pushing up against Tim in a slow rhythym. "You'd have to take it like this, once that's gone," he muttered to Tim, then pulled off. "But not until then," he smiled, and grabbed Tim's biceps.

"Oh, shit," Tim muttered, his entire body shuddering as he came violently in Josh's mouth. Tim bucked involuntarily, waves of pleasure racking his body. Josh pulled off his cock, cum dribbling out of his mouth. He licked his lips and wiped his mouth on his hand, then sat back and jerked himself some more, his big balls bouncing on the floor as he did it. Eric was unrolling a condom.

Tim leaned back against the bed and tried to catch his breath, watching as Eric bent Josh over and took him over the side of the bed. Both came quickly, moaning as they did so. Eric pulled out right beforehand and flipped Josh over, yanking the rubber off and spurting all over the smaller boys' chest and face. "Oh, fuck yeah!" Eric exclaimed as the last of his jizz dribbled out.

"Come on, cumdog," Eric berated Josh. "Squirt that shit, boy!" Josh closed his eyes, moaned, and white goo dribbled out the end of his cock, mixing on his abdomen with the cum of Tim and Eric.

Afterward, they all just lay for a bit, toweling off. Josh lit up a cigarette, and he and Eric lay across Tim's chest, basking in the moment. After a few minutes, Josh got up to shower. Tim and Eric followed, soaping up in the communal shower and washing the cum, oil and sweat off their glistening bodies.

The next day Tim got up late with a bit of a hangover. He thought about the previous night all day, it even keeping his normally focused mind off his workout while he mechanically went about the motions of his routine. No flexing that day, but straight back to his apartment for a shower and shave. He flexed in the mirror a bit and thought about his big bull nuts being cut off, his cock sliced clean off at the base...but it just didn't do it like last night had.

He checked the mail eagerly when it came, but it was only junk mail. Same the next day, and the next, until Thursday, when he finally got a letter with the Nu Tau Rho letters stamped on it. He tore it open eagerly, and was relieved to see that he had indeed gotten a bid. He was pretty sure it would happen, but still...he worried. He really wanted to be with these guys, money or no.

The letter said he was supposed to show up Saturday night wearing only shorts, an old t-shirt, and flipflops or sandals. Nothing else, it said, very clearly. Tim studied extra hard Friday to make up for what he knew would be a busy evening. Saturday afternoon he took a long bath and shaved himself to the skin, wanting to look his best. When the time came for the party, he wore a tight wife-beater, a pair of running shorts, and some five-dollar flipflops he bought at the supermarket.

He showed up to the house, eager and horny, and rang the bell, shifting his weight back and forth nervously. When the door finally opened, one of the brothers stood there wearing only a pair of well-stuffed jockeys. "Tim, right?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm Tim," he said.

"Come on in. We're only waiting on one more." The brother stood back from the door to allow Tim into the living room. Cyrus was already there, dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a plain white T.

"Hay, man," he greeted Tim. Tim said hi back and sat down. The brother stood behind them both, not saying anything. Tim and Cyrus just sat there in silence, assuming they weren't supposed to say anything either. After a minute or two of the awkward silence, the door rang again. The brother took his time opening it, and did to find Andrew there, looking as nervous as they were. The brother let him in and he sat down on the couch, after answering the cautious greetings offered by the others.

After a few more minutes of silence, the brother spoke from behind them. "It's time. Strip," he ordered the three. They did, removing their clothing quickly and nervously looking around at the others. "Follow me," the brother ordered.

They did follow him, back into the kitchen of the frat house and down into the dirt and wood basement, where the rest of the fraternity awaited. What little light fell off a pair of lightbulbs was dim, and it was hard to make out their faces, but all were naked, their skin glistening in the light. Each sported their gigantic (and identical, Tim noted) pair of balls and a wide variety of cocks to accompany them. The brother who led them had them stand in a row against the far wall, and the brothers circled in around them.

A voice Tim recognized as Harry's boomed out, "You three have been selected to enter the Nu Tau Rho fraternity. Membership is for life, once you join, you are forever one of us. Your initiation shall be swift but painful. This is your last chance to turn back.

"Cyrus Beauregard Turnbull! Do you wish to join Nu Tau Rho?"

"Hell yeah, man," Cyrus answered in his twang.

"Timothy Sean Whalen! Do you wish to join Nu Tau Rho?" came the question.

Tim piped us, "Yes!"

"And finally, Andrew Tyrell Newman! Do you wish to join Nu Tau Rho?"

"Yes," he answered, clearly and calmly.

"Commence initiation," came Harry's voice.

One brother took each of their arms and held it up to the wall to fasten it to a manacle, while others spread their legs apart and latched their ankles into manacles on the wall. One brother lined up in front of each of them and was similarly manacled, but one of their feet was left unshackled. It all kinda turned Tim on, and he got hard.

"Each side will take a turn kicking the other," Harry instructed them. "After each kick, the kicker will be restrained, and the other side will have a foot freed. If you last long enough," he voice took on a warning tone, "you will be a full brother in the fraternity."

Tim looked down, helpless, as a brother poked a syring into his sac and shot it up with something. "Of course, we want it to go on for at least a few rounds," Harry told them. Tim felt a numbness spread throughout his nether regions. He couldn't even feel his own cock.

"Ready, pledges?" he asked them. Tim, Cyrus, and Andrew all nodded and braced themselves for the first kick.

The man in front of Tim reared back, then swung his leg forward in a mighty kick. Tim felt a dull thud from his groin area, followed by a low ache. That wasn't so bad, he thought.

Tim's leg was unshackled and the other man's clamped down. Tim reared back and let loose the strongest kick he could, throwing the man across from him off the ground, the chains jerking him back. He cried out, and Tim thought he heard Eric's voice...could be. Another thirty seconds to change shackles, and Tim braced himself for the attack, showing his manliness by spreading his legs a little further apart to give his opponent a clear target.

Another thud and a crunching noise. Tim felt a little spear of pain in his right nut and then a bit more pain than last time. He saw a hand hold his sac from behind, roll his balls around a little, and let go. While they changed shackles again, he heard Josh's voice in his ear. "One down, you big bull, but the shot'll wear off soon. Take it like a man, yah?"

One down? That meant...he tried to look down but without being able to move his cock out of the way, he couldn't tell. Had his opponent burst one of his balls?

The brothers were around him, chanting for Tim to take his kick. He swung back, using the chains to pull himself off the ground, throw his leg back, and then pivot on the chains, muscles straining as he sought to make use of his full momentum. Tim threw himself forward, bringing his leg up with as much force as possible into the other man.

His leg connected and thudded directly between his opponent's firm balls. He could feel the skin tear a bit, and the hear Eric's voice cry out. It was definitely Eric; he knew for sure now. Cries came out from either side of him as well - Cyrus's sac was swelling up, and Andrew was on struggle.

Tim braced himself for another strike. It missed his left ball but still connected with the wreckage of his right, sending a little wave of pain up through his body. Tim could see his sac swelling a bit and feel the ache rising; that shot didn't last long. He could take it, though. He had to see this through.

His leg crunched up against the Eric's sac. Why weren't his balls bursting? They felt so hard...and then it hit him. They were fakes. The size, the feel of them...they had to be. And if his were, then all the brothers had fake balls. They must have taken hormone shots or something...

Tim tried to drown out the shouts of the brothers cheering them on. A big cheer went up for Cyrus, who was being taken down, his scrotum swollen and purple. They lay him on the ground and felt around his sac. "Yeah, both gone!" Harry shouted, and they carried Cyrus back upstairs.

Tim didn't even try to watch. The pain was growing rapidly in his groin, and he knew he wasn't going to be let down from here until his other ball burst. The next time Eric's foot came up into his groin, he tried to move his hips to swing it into the way, but Eric's foot only grazed it, striking his wounded sac again.

Andrew cried out as his first testicle popped but Tim didn't hear. He focused all his will into striking Eric's sac, trying to burst it open. He could feel it tear a little further, and blood dripped from it slowly. Tim shook his remaining ball square in front of Eric's foot, but this kick was weaker and it didn't burst. Tim was having the same problem...his groin hurt so much it was becoming hard to kick, but he did anyway, rending the skin of Eric's sac.

Tim took another kick, but this time, as Eric kicked, one of his testicles fell plumb out of his sac and onto the ground! Bewildered by the suddern feeling, Eric faltered and brushed his foot against Tim's leg. The other testicle was partially protruding from the hole but couldn't make its way out yet.

There was another cry from Andrew, and he was taken down and checked. "Both gone here, too," Harry announced, and Andrew was taking upstairs. All but a few of the brothers were concentrated now on Tim and Eric. Tim's sac was turning purple, his cock swollen and monstrous. Eric's was bleeding slowly, his detached testicle still on the floor where it had fallen.

Tim reared up for another kick, and relished the splat as his foot made contact even as his stomach convulsed from the pain in his groin. The manacles switched and Tim tried to catch his breath, his strength leaving him...he was having difficulty holding himself up. "C'mon, you big bull," Josh encouraged him. "You can take this! A big stud like you losing to a shrimp like that? Take it like a man!"

Tim struggled to his feet and prepared for one last strike. He swung and made contact, but to no avail. Eric's other ball still lay there, protuding slightly but not coming out. The brothers were talking loudly now, openly speculating on what would happen, but Tim couldn't hear them. All he knew was there was another strike coming, and this one had to hit its target.

Tim steeled himself for it, flexing the muscle between his legs that made his dick flip up, giving Eric the best target possible. Eric's foot came up, and to Tim it was if things were in slow motion. He watched the foot flying toward him, and slightly shifted his weight toward it, then shoved his hips forward and smashed his ball against the upward moving heel of Eric's foot.

Even the pain was in slow motion, from the initial ache of his left (and only) nut first compressing against the heel of Eric's foot, the rising intesnsity as more pressure went onto it, the explosive rush of agony as the ball finally burst, and finally the warm achy feeling of more blood filling his swollen scrotum.

Tim collapsed into the chains, and the brothers reached to unchain him. "No!" he rasped hoarsely. "One more."

He struggled to his feet, the brothers standing back in awe. With so many crowded around them the light no longer gave such contrast, and Tim could see Eric, hanging in the chains, struggle to lift his head to Tim...and smile. Tim reared back for the last kick, and wham!

There were doctors on hand, of course, to patch up the three pledges, their opponents, and Joey, who had been knocked clean unconscious by Eric's last testicle as the force of Tim's kick knocked it clear out of Eric's tattered scrotum, off his bruised abdomen, and back into Joey's unfortunate head.

By the time Eric and Tim had been taken up to the makeshift operating area in the kitchen, Cyrus was finished up and sitting on the couch, surrounded by admirers, his burst testicles already removed and replaced with fakes nearly as large as the other brothers'. The doctor, an alumnus himself, was just inserting the second of Andrew's new set.

Tim and Eric sat on the couch, Josh and some of the other brothers tending to them and chattering amongst themselves at the show the two of them had put on. "That was the craziest initiation I've ever seen," muttered one of the men, massaging his own groin as he thought of it.

"Hell, yeah, man," agreed another. It was about to get crazier. Before he knew it, the doc was done with Joey and the other pledges' two opponents. It was his turn.

He lay on the table, his scrotum cut open, drained, and hollowed out, happy to have achieved part of his dream. The doctor was measuring what size fake testicles to install in him, and Tim said, "I don't want...fake ones." It was a struggle to get the words out, but he did it. "Just...clean it up. Nice and neat...no...sac."

"Me either," Eric muttered to the boys watching him.

Everybody got quiet. "Is that okay?" somebody asked. "Can you do that?"

"I...I don't know," Harry replied. "Somebody fetch the rulebook."

They waited in silence for a few moments as a brother fetched the book. Harry thumbed through the index, looking for something relevant. "I can't leave him like this all day," the doc warned. "Decide soon."

"Uh...uh...okay," Harry sighed, finding something that looked like the rules. "Um...shit. It doesn't say. It says he may have them implanted."

"May? That means it's his choice, right?" Josh replied.

"But nobody ever has," Harry countered.

"Too late, I'm fixing him up," the doctor finished the argument, snipping away at Tim's tattered scrotum with a pair of scissors.

Tim relaxed, happy he'd gotten his way with this. Why lose his balls just to get even bigger ones?