Story - Cast Adrift (pt.1)
Table of contents for Cast Adrift
- Story - Cast Adrift (pt.1)
- Story - Cast Adrift (pt.2)
Cast Adrift
By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)
Copyright © 2008 ◊ All Rights Reserved
Part (1)
Tori tried not to look, but he couldn’t help it. After all it was his future they were discussing, and he just couldn’t allow himself to be turfed, simply because he was not build like some Jock, or because he didn’t have the build of some body builder. It wasn’t fair, nor right, least in his mind, that how he looked should even matter.
Okay, looking at the five Seniors at the big polished oak table, he could see that having a certain look, had its advantages. There was no doubt that he would bend over for any one of the five, specially Brandon. After all, didn’t everyone dream of being the sex toy of a God? Brandon certainly fitted that description, with his blond hair, that was always looking like the wind had just blown through it, and how his eyes just seemed to always be sparkling.
How his smile could give you an instant erection, the way it lit up not just his whole face, but the friggin room too. The guy had it all, the looks, the body, the personality too. He never seemed angry, or upset, and he never seemed to make you feel inferior, despite the obvious differences between him and you. Now there he was, with the other lesser Gods of the fraternity, about to decide his fate.
There were thousands on campus who never got an invite to join a Frat House, let alone make it. They seemed to do okay, but he was at least honest with himself. Being in a fraternity had its obvious advantages. To begin with, you had instant friends, secondly you were in the upper echelon of University society. It opened doors barred to most but it also gave you more access to all of the social happenings on Campus.
For Tori, it was his only hope to make his college time, bearable. He was plain, had short dark hair, and no special physical features that would attract a single person. There was no compensation mentally either, as his grades were, well average, just like the rest of him. No special skills at sports, of any kind, and yet somehow, he had gotten an invitation to pledge at Sigma Phi Tau.
Hell Week hadn’t been all that bad, but that was simply a process to weed out some of the others, to sort the cream from the mix. He had scraped through, again thanks in large part to Brandon, but would that be enough for him to make it to the next, final round of selection? While Brandon had been encouraging, he wasn’t exactly hopeful.
It nagged at him, as he wondered if there was some way he could endear himself, make himself seem indispensable, but he couldn’t come up with a single quality he had, that would fit that criteria. His legs were thin, his body looked a bit undernourished, as if he didn’t eat regular. Still, he did have stamina, didn’t do drugs, and while drinking alcohol wasn’t high on his list of past times, he could handle his booze okay. Least he wasn’t a sloppy drunk, like Craig, who didn’t make it past the first day of Hell Week.
It had been a shock when Vic had been sent packing too. Now if there was anyone in their pledge group he would have thought had an inside track it was Vic. He had the look, the build, but he didn’t get past the third day. So maybe Brandon was right, it really wasn’t about the looks, or the body. Maybe it really was more about the personality, the hidden abilities? Frankly, he thought it was just B.S., but here he was, waiting on the final word, the decision of whether he would go on, or back to the dorm life.
He tried to read the faces of the others, knowing that at least Brandon was in his corner, that he would support his candidacy for membership, but the other’s, they were a mystery to him. There was Stephen, the treasure, who was also a star on the Baseball squad, and he had that bean counter look. Already his hair was receding a bit, giving him a bookish look, plus the wire rimmed glasses didn’t help. Yet he had an athlete’s body, the developed chest, the muscular legs, and he had a look that commanded attention, when he spoke.
Frank held some position Tori could never remember, but he was on the swim team, and the Captain of it too. He had the perfect body for that sport, thin, yet filled with muscles. Not a single ounce of fat on his body, and he was totally shaved, from head to toe, for keeping the friction to a minimum. He could swim too, was a potential shot at the National University Team, and possible Olympic material, so Brandon had told him.
Miguel was from somewhere in South America, and man was he tall. He towered over everyone there, but then he was also the leading scorer on the Basketball team. He would be, given he was nearly seven foot tall, had a slender build, but powerful legs, that rippled when he walked. Least it looked that way, and his swarthy looks seemed to just add to his popularity. Some claimed it was that not only was he tall, but his manhood was just as huge.
Not like he would ever get a look at that, though he wouldn’t mind. Still, he seemed nice enough, and might be a supporter, though he couldn’t be sure. That was the whole trouble, because other than Brandon, none of them really knew him, or he them. He was just another person in the crowd, nothing to notice. He watched as they talked, deciding his future. Every now and then, one of them would look at him, the eyes blank, giving nothing away, which made him squirm even more. He could feel the perspiration beading up on his forehead, afraid to reach up and wipe it off, to even move. So he let it drip down his face, as he licked his lips, wondering if there were any two who would join Brandon in sponsoring him, in voting to let him move on.
Eric, the President of the house, was definitely not going to give him a thumbs up. Yet he really had tried but, the guy wasn’t like the others. He was all business, rarely did he smile, though on him, he doubted if it would help. The guy had dark hair, a perpetual frown on his face, that was more pallid than the other’s. He too was a jock, but he was on the Tennis Squad. Not really a team sport, and he didn’t do doubles either, but he was intense.
He also had the grades, been on the Dean’s Honor List right from the beginning, and you could see the intensity in his eyes. They were dark, usually narrowed, and when he looked at you, well you felt a slight chill, as if he was seeing way beyond what you wanted him to see. The way he could just seem to make you break out in a sweat, just by a quick glance, always made Tori tremble.
Mind you, Eric was just like the others, in that he was well built. His body was lean, but it was all muscle. The arms were long, with a rather powerful look to them. But then, they had to be, and the legs were thick too, at the upper thighs. He always seemed on balance, firmly planted, even when running, but it was his short clipped mannerism of speech that would stop a rampaging elephant in its tracks.
He always seemed so cold, so aloof. Then too, the way he could speak, could make you squirm, was unreal. No doubt he would make a good lawyer, and a good politician too, if he ever went that route. He had the power of speech, that could turn steel into liquid. Tori had experienced that first hand, which was why he was certain Eric wouldn’t be voting for him.
It wasn’t his fault either. No one had managed to take the paddling, exactly as ordered. Like who could stay in one position, while their ass was smacked by a wooden board? Specially when it was being applied by Eric. He knew how to swing, how to put his whole weight behind each swing. Hank had tried, but you could see the force of each swing, as it moved to connect. There was no way you could not stumble forward, even if the pain didn’t effect your concentration.
He hadn’t done much better, though in all honesty he had been rather proud of his performance during the paddling marathon. Hell, his ass still had the bruises from it, a nice shade of dark purple now, bit black around the edges, but at least he could sit without wincing. Though at the time, he doubted if he’d ever be comfortable sitting again. The way Eric had laid the board to him, had let its full surface come into contact with his bare bottom. Tori could still fell those blows, each one well timed, well spaced so as to insure maximum pain, maximum force.
Poor Hank, and he had a nice ass too. Those cheeks of his were so white, before Eric got to them. You could see the milky white flesh, how it shone, hot clean it looked, until that first whack. Then you saw the white even more, as the huge red glow began, a sort of thick band of pink. Hell, you could see the goose bumps or whatever, as the heat from the blow made them more pronounced.
Each blow had echoed in the chamber they were in. This one actually, the main meeting room of the rather luxurious mansion, that had been bequeathed to Sigma Phi Tau. It was posh, and the fraternity had kept it up too, which couldn’t be an easy task. This room was large, high ceiling, and had its own echo chamber, or so it had seemed that day, when Eric delivered the promised paddling to every remaining pledge.
It had been strange, to walk into the room, to be lined up against the dark rich panelling of the one wall, to face Eric, who had the long wooden paddle in his one hand. The board seemed to glisten in the light, and every eye in the room had focused on it. The instructions were simple, everyone would strip totally naked, then when called, would take ten steps forward, spread their legs, bend over, and grab their ankles.
A series of whacks would be administered, until Eric was satisfied, or the person being whacked would call it off. Course, if you called it off, it was game over. The other rule, you couldn’t move. You had to stay in position, no matter what, and there would be penalties assessed, for each step taken. More penalties you got, the closer you got to being disqualified from membership.
Sounded simple enough, but he knew every eye had been focused on that massive paddle in his hand, as he stated the rules. Tori hadn’t even felt his normal nervousness at the stripping either, due to the way Eric held the paddle. It wasn’t until he barked out the order, to strip, that it dawned on him that he would be showing off his body, to others.
Even when he had taken Gym back in High School, he had managed to keep from being totally naked, or from letting anyone see him. He had always been afraid of being outed, of being caught out. Thing was, he had little control over his body’s desire for others, specially if they were semi hot. Over time, he had developed ways to hide it, to keep anyone from noticing, but not now, now there was no way to hide it. He had begun to sweat, to feel like it would soon be over for him, yet as he turned to look at the other pledges, he noticed how they too, seemed to hesitate.
Eric’s voice changed all that. The way he spoke, made even Tori reach for the button on his pants, without even thinking of being embarrassed. Plus, when he was naked, he managed to notice how no one was looking, or even seemed to care. Some were taking quick peeks, just as he did. Yet, in a quick look, he didn’t feel quite so inferior.
Well, except for Hank. The guy had a raging hard on, which naturally Eric noticed, and made everyone stare at. Hank, to his credit, didn’t flinch as all eyes turned to stare at his aroused cock. The way it stuck straight out from his body, how the balls seemed to hang a bit lower than most, didn’t seem to bother him one bit. Yet when he took his eyes off the guy’s dick, and looked at his face, he couldn’t help but notice the red flush to his face, the sweat dripping down across the red tinged flesh.
Tori had expected Eric would make Hank go first, but instead he called out for someone else. But he made the other guy stand in front of Hank, and he made sure that Hank could see clearly the other’s bare bottom, and hanging penis. He positioned him, then would go stand beside Hank, to stare, to make sure the view was just right, for Hank. It was a particular nasty trick, and he kept glancing down at Hank’s erection too, saying nothing but just looking.
One by one, Eric administered his paddling to the group, keeping Hank waiting. Tori was certain he’d be called before Hank, but he had been surprised when only Hank, Ben, and himself were left in line. The other’s, that had passed were all still in the room, but they were across from the remaining bunch. Eric made sure they were all facing towards the remaining group. It was hard to not be aroused, and a quick glance over at Ben showed that he too was semi hard, just as Tori was. Hank however, was fully erect, if not more so, than at first. But then, that seemed to have been Eric’s plan. To keep poor Hank hard.
Calling Hank forward, Eric also made Ben and Tori step side by side, so they could have an unobstructed view of Hank’s upcoming paddling. He then positioned him, and then made several of the other’s move in closer, to stand in front of Hank, their semi hard dicks in easy view of the bent over Hank. It was rather erotic, or so Tori felt, as Eric must have known. He was insuring that Hank was kept hard too, as he reached under him, to position his legs just a miniscule one way or another.
When the first blow landed, Tori jumped. He hadn’t seen Eric raise the paddle back, as his attention was focused between Hank’s perfectly white buttocks, and the array of various semi erect cocks in front. Some of them were rather inviting looking, giving him his own problems of trying not to be totally aroused. Still, it was really the first time when he could stare, without being called a Fag, or pervert.
Yet each time he glanced away, the hard sound of a blow landing on Hank’s bare buttocks would draw his eyes back. He couldn’t help but see how the younger man was not taking it well. The first blow had nearly knocked him off his feet, making him stumble a few steps. It had earned him a penalty, and the second blow Hank took, barely keeping his footing.
The closer he watched, the more he could see how hard each blow was. It made him cringe, wondering if he could take such a pounding, if he wouldn’t go flying off his feet after the first whack. Still he felt rather proud of Hank, who weathered the third whack a bit better than the second, which seemed to make Eric unsettled.
It was as if he wanted Hank to fail, wanted him to fall flat on his face, to be disqualified. The fourth blow began just as the others, just as far back, but as Eric released his hand, Tori knew it would be a lot harder. He could almost feel the backlash of the air as the wooden paddle sliced through it.
It hit hard, loudly too. The sound of wood striking flesh echoed in the chamber, and he could sense Ben flinching, as he watched the wooden blade smash into the soft flesh of Hank’s buttocks. It was across both cheeks, firmly planted. His eyes widened, as he saw the skin being pushed up and out of the way by the force of the landing blow, even as the sound rang in his ears.
The cry was almost as loud, as Hank’s whole body trembled, as one foot quivered, then shot forward, to take a step ahead, to keep the body in balance. He could sense Hank’s struggle, see it in the back muscles of his legs, as his hands were freed from the ankles. The force of the blow, made the one leg push forward, even as Hank’s shriek bounced off the far walls, and reverberated back to them all.
‘Another Penalty’ Eric said, in a tone of smugness that made it seem even more cruel, more meaningful. Hank only murmured, panting actually, as he readjusted his legs, and took hold of his ankles. His buttocks was already a massive mix of colors, from reds and blues to purples. Tori could see the darker bands where the edge of the paddle had left their mark, and he could only imagine at how painful it must all feel. Still, he watched, unsure how much longer the paddling would continue, or if it ended, if he could handle what Hank had already endured.
The way the cheeks moved with each smack, how it sounded. It scared him, made him flinch more than once, yet it also excited him. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew, without looking, that he too was fully erect. Tori could feel the ache in his own groin, as he watched more whacks land across Hank’s mottled buttocks. It was like a huge pile of ground up hamburger meat. The way the skin was mottled, colored by the various blows that had landed.
Yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but notice how Hank’s balls had drooped more, had actually looked larger, and how his cock was still very stiff, if not more than before. He focused on it, watching the way it moved, as the blows landed on the cheeks. It must feel like his bottom was on fire, the way it glowed, yet the cock seemed to throb with each blow, almost as if it enjoyed the pain that had to be rushing through Hank’s body.
Tori saw the glint in Eric’s eyes, as he raised his hand back, saw how he had tilted the paddle so only the edge would be moving through the air. It was mesmerizing, as he watched the face grow taut, as the fingers around the paddle handle grew a bit tighter, bit whiter, as Eric licked his lips, his eyes sizing up his target.
The paddle began to move, the hand bringing it down quickly, building up speed, as the edge sliced through the air, and with his upper teeth biting down on his lower lip, Tori watched as the wrist turned at the last second, to flip the paddle so the full board would strike the waiting flesh.
He heard the sound, felt the force of the blow that made him actually take a step backwards. It was a perfectly landed blow, with the full force striking the flesh, unimpeded by the air. The skin was shaking, as it tried to move away from the flat end of the paddle, but unable to. The force was too much, as he heard the exhale of breath being driven out of Hank’s lungs.
His eyes bulged as he saw the muscles on the back of Hank’s legs quiver, saw them shake and tremble. The rolling shock went all the way down to his feet, as the wooden paddle bounced back from the cheeks, the force still working its way forward.
Hank must have been crying out, as his body moved forward, unable to be held in check, as the force just seemed to take hold of him. His hands shot upwards, from holding his ankles, to spread forwards, to help cushion him, as his entire upper body leapt forwards.
The sound of him hitting the floor echoed loudly, a hint of the smack from the paddle still mingling with the newer sound of flesh hitting tile. The cold floor held steady, as Hank seemed to bounce off it a bit, then simply collapse on top. Where his buttocks would have been, was nothing but air, and the still quivering paddle. Tori could hear Eric’s heavy breathing, as he stood there, looking down at Hank.
Eric then glanced up at the others, then he turned to stare at Ben and Tori. His eyes seemed to be burning, as they glared at him, that he felt like turning and running away, but he held his ground. Ben merely stared back, then at the fallen Hank. His eyes were wide open in absolute terror, and when they moved to look at the paddle, you could see his chest heave, see the panic in his whole body.
‘I am out of this, no way’ he yelled, and turned away from Eric, and quickly grabbed his pile of clothes and was gone, out the big double doors. They were slammed shut, and the noise was broken by the hard panting coming from Hank, who still lay on the tile floor.
Slowly, he managed to get up off his belly, and you could almost hear the pain that was racing inside of him, as he turned and looked over at Eric. Tori could see the hatred in his eyes, as he stood up to face him.
‘Penalty’ was all Eric said to him, glaring. It was as if he was daring Hank to speak, to argue with him, but instead Hank just glowered back. Walking very slowly he moved past Eric, past Tori and leaned down carefully to pick up his clothes. With a last look at Eric, he bundled his clothes up under his arm, and followed Ben out the double doors.
Tori shivered, as he recalled that look, that angry look that was his last memory of Hank. As the coldness of that memory crept through him, he realized that he was being spoken to, and looking up he saw the group of five were now seated, that Brandon was now standing next to him.
He felt panic, as he realized they had made their decision, and as he looked at their impassive faces, he felt like he knew the answer, even before Brandon told him. He still couldn’t believe it, accept it even, as he listened, but unable to process the words fully. His heart ached, his legs felt a bit weak at he knees, as Brandon explained that it was close, that it was nothing to be ashamed of.
Tori knew that it was sincere, that Brandon really was sorry for him, but it didn’t make the pain any less. His body continued to shake, as Brandon told him to go back to the dorm, that he would come by later, as he was going to try for a recount. It didn’t help him much, but it was something to hope for, as he finally managed to look at Brandon, to see his concern in his face. He smiled, knowing that he had failed, that he had been cast adrift, that he was not going to make it at Sigma Phi Tau. No matter what Brandon said, he was out. He just hadn’t done enough, to convince the others.
Tori looked away from Brandon, at the remaining four at the table, and he couldn’t help but notice the thin little cruel grin at Eric’s lips. Well, he had won, had gotten his way, though he had endured his paddling, had only gotten one penalty for moving, which was better than all the others. No one had managed to hold in place, many faltering more than twice even, but he had only made one step forward, taking his paddling.
Glancing back at Brandon, he managed to give him a meaningless smile, and reached out to shake his hand, while thanking him for the opportunity. Looking over his shoulder, he felt totally deflated, but he didn’t slouch as he left the room, his buttocks aching a bit, but inside, Tori knew he had done his best.
Tags: bizarre routines, free reading online, Gaystoryman, hazing rituals, hell week, original fiction, paddling, pledging fraternity, rejection
