by Gavin Atlas
Since that first night, the rest of my pledge class had advanced, and now even they got to fuck me if they wanted. Dozens of guys have had my hole over the last four years, and I couldn’t get enough. Jeez! What the hell was wrong with me?
I thought about what Chaz had planned for today. I imagined he would have to do something different. Would I be able to keep from coming? I’d jerked off four times in the last twenty-four hours to make sure I could contain myself, each orgasm more violent than the previous.
“Last, we come to secret societies,” said Professor Whit as he rose from his desk. “Do we have any members of the Laius League in the room? Perhaps a Chrysippus?”
My stomach lurched. Did he really ask that? I shook it off. No reason to fear. It’s a secret society. I’m not supposed to reveal anything in public.
Then he raised his right hand. I almost fell off my chair in shock. Professor Whit wore a gold Laius ring.
“By rights, any Chrysippus in the room must reveal himself,” the professor said in his rumbling Tennessee twang. He put his hands on his hips. “Luke Sanderson Cramer, are you here?”
I felt my face warm with humiliation and my dick tingled, beginning to stretch. I had no choice but to stand up.
“There he is!” The professor’s voice thundered. “Class, for those who don’t know, the Laius League has been around for over a hundred years, and each member who has passed initiation is a “Laius” or a leader. A Chrysippus is usually a freshman, indicating a submissive follower—one who needs to be taught and put through trials. However, Luke Sanderson Cramer is already a senior and still has not passed the trial, isn’t that right?”
I looked down, aware that my face was red with humiliation. “No, sir. I have not passed.”
The professor looked around the room and waved at me. “Look at him. Hollister shirt. Penny loafers. Blond hair. He could be the preppie mascot of any school, but he is, in fact, a secret slave.” He snapped his fingers at me. “Strip nude, young man, because here is your final opportunity to pass the trial.”
“What? Here? But I thought—” I caught myself before I mentioned Chaz’s name. He must have lied to keep me in the dark about the nature of my final test.
“Yes, Mr. Cramer. Here.”
The students gave each other shocked looks and murmured. A couple guys shook their heads and got up to leave.
“Don’t anyone dare move!” shouted Professor Whit. The students sat back down.
I pulled my pants down, my stiffening dick getting tangled in my underwear. As I released it, my hard-on slapped against my stomach. My embarrassment made me so lightheaded I thought I might pass out. Timberlands was a small school. I had friends in that class whom I’d known for all four years, and now they were seeing my secret life.
“Class, Luke’s trial and the trial of all Chrysippi is to get fucked in the ass and not come.” There was a chorus of gasps and “holy shits.”
“That trial should be simple enough, shouldn’t it?” Professor Whit said, giving me a look that smoldered with lust. “Do you see how Mr. Cramer is now nude before us? This is only the beginning of the power of secret societies. This is how much Mr. Cramer desires to belong. Isn’t that right?”
My breathing was hard, and I covered my penis with my hand, still dizzy with shame and excitement.
“Now he will lie down on his back on my desk, lift his legs in the air, and offer his ass to get fucked in front of all of you.”
“Please, sir,” I stammered. “I…can’t.”
“You have no choice.”
I whimpered and got on the desk. I’d expected at least some of the students to shake off their shock and walk out in disgust, but no one dared budge. Professor Whit opened the door to the class. In came three students, all of them wearing masks over their eyes. Even with the masks, they looked familiar.
“These are the three most recent Laius League members to graduate to Laius status, and they are going to fuck Luke first. In front of all of you. They are freshmen. And isn’t it the deepest humiliation for a senior to be gang fucked by freshmen?”
“Yes, sir,” I responded. Since that first party where Chaz chose me, I’d desired to be fucked in front of a room of people, but I never imagined anything like this. I shook my head. Why was I so hard? I needed to not want this. I needed to be a Laius and have all the advantages—easy admission to law school, guaranteed internships with members of congress, access to free first-class flights and executive positions at Fortune 500 companies. I had to focus on those positives while the first freshman, one of the few African-American students on campus, lifted my legs and lubed me up.
I tried not to hyperventilate as he lowered his pants, his thick erection bouncing. He was about to put on a condom when Professor Whit stopped him. “Terrence, in league gang bangs, we go in dick order to stretch out the bottom in increments. Colin, I believe you should begin.”
Was he using their real names? I doubted it.
A scrawny boy who looked like he should still be in high school lowered his shorts and rubbed his dick against my butt cheeks to get it hard. I felt my face enflame with the unfairness that someone so young had the right to fuck my ass, and there was nothing I could do about it. Worse, I wanted his dick in me so bad, I nearly moaned. Colin might not have been as big as Terrence, but he was not small by any means.
In a flash, Colin had a condom on and pushed into my ass. I cried out as he pierced my sphincter, and everyone in the room gasped. I looked out at the class to see if they had turned their heads away, but they all were watching me get fucked. Seeing them staring at me sent a new burst of wonderful humiliation surging through my core.
“Just so you know, Mr. Cramer, you are the first Chrysippus to be fucked in public. Ever. Your inability to control your orgasm has led you to this predicament. Think about that.”
My dick got harder. Why did he have to tell me that I was the only one to get ass-fucked in front of a class? Am I the single Chrysippus who never turned top? Is it possible that my ass is the most fucked in the history of Timberlands University? God, how was I going to keep from coming now I knew that?
Colin savaged my hole for a full five minutes, and I moaned as he stretched me, but I took it like a man. I might have been put on display for the sake of shaming me, but I had pride in my ability to take dick. Against my will, my horniness overtook my embarrassment. If I could hold onto the shame, I might have a chance at not coming. But I began to meet Colin’s thrusts, and the rate of his respiration sped. His pumping got rougher. I felt the tightness of pleasure from my gut to my mouth. Just as I was getting close to the no-return point of orgasm, Colin came with a loud bark. He looked me in the eye with a look of conquest and grinned a mean grin.
“Terrence, now you.”
Even after I’d been nailed by Colin, Terrence was big enough that he had trouble stuffing himself in. He flipped me on all fours and began dicking me doggie style. Now a few class members were taking pictures with their phones, probably sending them to everyone on campus.
“Luke’s pussy is being taken bitch-style now,” said Professor Whit, “and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
I winced at the burst of lust sparked by the professor’s words. C’mon, Luke. Please don’t come.
The words also had an effect on Terrence.
“Yeah, Luke. Nothing you can do. Your pussy is mine. All mine.”
He kept repeating that. Mine to fuck. Mine. All mine.
If he kept fucking me much longer, I’d come. I knew what I had to do even if it humiliated me beyond belief to say this to a freshman.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “My…pussy is yours to fuck.” The words made me feel the burn of sexual defeat. I’d been conquered for all to see. By a freshman no less.
Terrence growled and started nailing me with fury. Each stab in my hole shot heat up my spine to my brain. In mere moments, he brought himself to his peak and rammed in so deep that my neck jerked up with the jolt, and I nearly fell of
f the desk. There was some chuckling from the class, but I managed to take everything I was given, and I managed not to come.
“Thomas, your turn.”
The third freshman, a lanky redhead, dropped his pants and sheathed his cock in latex. As he yanked my ass back with a nasty grip, I realized with horror I knew him. Just last week, I’d had two Laius tops demand my ass at the same time, and I had to give it up to the more senior member. Thomas had to get to class and couldn’t wait for his turn. He’d been incensed. As he slammed his huge dick into my rectum, I knew he was out for vengeance.
God, Luke, please don’t come.
Thomas’s dick found my prostate with every stroke, and I moaned in both fevered heat and exquisite pain. My body rocked forward with each push. I couldn’t believe I was taking such punishment. And I could do better. I arched up my rump to invite Thomas in deeper.
“Ahh, yeah, boy. That’s it,” Thomas said. “Terrence, his pussy is mine, not yours.”
“Luke’s pussy belongs to all of you,” said Professor Whit. “It belongs to everyone.”
A fresh wave of heat consumed me. My dick throbbed. Please, please don’t come, Luke.
“Cheer me on!” Thomas shouted at the class.
Terrence and Colin started chanting “Fuck! That! Hole! Fuck! That! Hole!” until Thomas started ramming so hard, my grunts became shouts, and they had to start yelling to be heard over my voice.
With relief I felt Thomas’s condom flood as he collapsed on my back with a huge groan.
My eyes widened.
“I did it!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t come.”
Then I noticed Professor Whit had his pants down. His erection was massive.
“You’re not done yet, Mr. Cramer. Flip over and put your legs back in the air.”
I whimpered a protest, but in my mouth and my gut I felt a pulling, pulsing need to have the older man deep inside me. I got on my back. Terrence and Thomas each grabbed one of my ankles and spread my legs as wide as they could, making my hole as vulnerable as possible to penetration. Professor Whit lined up his enormous prick with my pucker. I cried out as he pushed in all the way to his balls.
I don’t think I’d ever taken such a big penis before. The burning and stretching was fantastic. I’d never felt more excited, nor more owned.
“With his legs in the air, he is most defenseless. Not only do I have complete control over his ass, but I also control his dick!”
No!
He grabbed my shaft and began pumping it. Every thrust sent a torrid wave of bliss from my hole to my entire body. I felt my balls rise. I writhed, losing myself in the pleasure of his dick and hands.
“No, please!” I begged.
“Admit it, Luke. You’re beaten. You’re not Laius League material because you love being submissive. Bottoms can’t be men of power. You can’t rule the world because your ass is conquered. The one thing you’re good for is getting fucked!”
The combination of his humiliating words, his dick plundering my ass, and his hand pumping my cock was too much. I came and I came hard, all over my chest, neck and even my face.
“That’s it! You’ve lost!” shouted Professor Whit. “And such a good ass. You’re going to make me come, too.”
The professor yanked my ass off the desk so he could impale me even deeper, and he roared as he filled his condom with semen.
“Class dismissed,” said Professor Whit, panting. “Explaining the grip of secret societies as a force in alterity as demonstrated by Mr. Cramer’s submission will be on the final.”
The other students shuffled out, murmuring to each other in shock. My breath remained rapid, and the adrenaline from my orgasm still coursed through me.
“What do I do now?” I asked, wiping come from my cheek.
“You can’t graduate. The League won’t permit it.”
“That’s not fair! I passed all my classes.”
“Too bad. As you might imagine, the League has influence with the board of trustees.”
“I can’t believe the school would let you get away with fucking me in class! People outside the school…hell, people everywhere will hear about it!”
“This is my last year teaching, young man, and this was my last class. I’ve already quit, so they can’t fire me. I’m independently wealthy and retiring young.”
“But what about me? My future is…is ruined, isn’t it?”
“You have two options. You could sue me and the school for the humiliation and sexual misconduct, and you’ll likely wind up with a few million dollars or…” Here Professor Whit began to probe my hole with his fingers. “…or you can fulfill your destiny as my personal fuck slave who spends his life giving up his ass to me and all my friends.”
I began to pant. “Oh, God,” I said, imagining Professor Whit’s huge and powerful dick inside me every day and being powerless to ever stop him.
“Somehow I think I know what you’ll choose.”
He lifted my legs and began to re-lube me. I moaned and accepted my fate.
Il Circo dei Fiori
The children in Prague noticed our circus no longer had lions or tigers. At first, their disappointment was evident. But our slogan was “a flower for every woman, a smile for every child,” and we kept our promise with a supply of fall roses and Emil Bratiano, the favorite of more than just the children. Emil had learned enough sleight of hand to pull coins from ears and tumbled good-naturedly into the pranks of our mischievous clowns. But the true magic occurred when he was in the air. These days, it seemed a typical circus had a lovely woman twirl and tumble on the corde lisse, but the lines of Emil’s beautiful body and his gravity-defying feats held audiences rapt. I’d only been in charge of the circus for half a season, and I already knew people came just for our star aerialist.
That afternoon as I watched from next to the performers’ entrance as Emil somersaulted from trapeze to trapeze, I heard my brother, Adolfo, grumble behind me.
“He thinks he’s so special.”
“He is special,” I said over my shoulder. Even as a child, Adolfo rarely liked anyone, but I knew he had particular resentment for Emil.
As a result of growing up in the circus, Emil had many skills and specialties. He spent more time in front of the audience than anyone, save the ringmaster. Even though Emil had performed a long routine on the corde lisse, he showed no signs of tiring on the trapeze. Now he and his older cousin Luca somersaulted around each other and grabbed the other’s trapeze. Flawless. The crowd gasped in unison. Spending my childhood with my mother in America, away from my father’s circus, I still marveled at the spectacle. Adolfo had been traveling with Fiori for two years as my father’s health faded. It seemed his enthusiasm had more than waned.
The music stopped to allow Emil and Luca better concentration as they were now going to try the same routine with Emil blindfolded. The crowd was in awe as Emil flipped in the air three times and landed in Luca’s grasp.
“That’s just wonderful,” I said.
“Same as any circus,” Adolfo droned, although I didn’t think that was true. “The difference is what he’s wearing.”
Now there Adolfo had a point. It interested me that no one ever complained about Emil’s costume. Not once. The wardrobe mistress had barely padded the crotch with extra material to prevent the bodysuit from being completely obscene. The rest of the uniform was sheer. I’d noticed it before. The audience would always stare up and marvel at his beauty, ignoring the clowns chasing each other and pelting the crowd with daisies.
As for me, my brother, and many other men in the room, we could not claim to anything so innocent as marveling. No, we ogled him from head to toe, most of all his glorious ass. When he performed on the corde lisse, he would hang upside down, spreading his flexible legs wide of the slack rope as he slowly twirled, and I’d have to shake my head to clear it of lewd thoughts. Sometimes I couldn’t help it. When Emil stood with his arm raised to the audience and his back arched in triumph, I would see him
from behind and feel a canine hunger in the back of my mouth. I realized I actually wanted to bite that exquisite backside before massaging it, groping it, kissing it, and finally fucking it again and again. Every time I watched Emil walk by me, I would turn. His movement held the refinement and grace of a dancer combined with a seductive languor that was almost feminine. Then there was his beautiful brown hair, cut short every week, and his serene, seductive gray eyes.
Adolfo broke me out of my reverie. “He’s leaving because of the new policy.”
I turned in alarm. “What? Which new policy?”
“Cutting the free shows.”
“Damn.” I stroked my beard in thought. With the new laws, we could no longer perform in many of the rich countries in Western Europe until we got rid of all our animals. We still had elephants and horses for now. Stripped from the profits we made in Zurich and Vienna, we couldn’t afford to do free shows in poorer cities in the East, but we had to change. Even in Venice, the hometown of il Circo dei Fiori, there were whispers of planned protests against us, despite decades of dedication to the happiness of the people.
“If Emil goes, how much will we be hurt?” I wondered.
“We’ll last longer than if we do the free shows.” Adolfo wanted to sell off the circus—not just the animals, but the costumes, the tents, the trailers, and every last piece of equipment. We’d split the revenue and try new ventures. But I wasn’t as desperate for cash as my brother. Adolfo had frittered away his trust fund while I had invested in property. I didn’t want to give up on the chance that Fiori could make the transition to an animal-free cirque nouveau, but without Emil, I felt the beginnings of panic.
“How can we keep him?” I watched as cannons fired volleys of colorful blooms into the crowd. Could we pay him more if we got rid of the flowers? No, “fiori” means flowers. We shouldn’t mess with a tradition. “Aha. When we no longer need to feed elephants and horses, we’ll have more money for our acrobats.”
