Frat Games: the House Slut - Cover

Frat Games: the House Slut

Copyright© 2025 by StoriesByTroy

Chapter 7: The Goblet of BrotherHood Brew

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7: The Goblet of BrotherHood Brew - Alpha Zeta Rho.... the cockiest, all-jock frat on campus. Known for keg stands, locker room brawls, and one secret tradition: Every year, they pick one pledge to turn into their house toy.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma   Ma   Blackmail   Consensual   Mind Control   Gay   BiSexual   Heterosexual   CrossDressing   Fiction   High Fantasy   School   Sharing   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Humiliation   Light Bond   Rough   Snuff   Spanking   Torture   Gang Bang   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   White Male   Anal Sex   Double Penetration   Exhibitionism   First   Facial   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Spitting   Voyeurism   BBW   Public Sex   Size   Nudism   Slow   Transformation  

I was still on my knees when Chase stepped forward, holding what looked like a medieval goblet. It was thick and gleaming, heavy in his grip. A deep silver chalice, darkened at the rim, like something pulled straight from a secret ceremony or a sex ritual. It landed with a thud on the hardwood floor in front of me.

“This,” he said, voice calm, “is the Goblet of Brew.”

There was a chuckle ... low, approving, but no one really laughed. They all knew what was coming. I didn’t yet. Not fully. But my gut twisted with instinct.

Chase looked down at me, his presence towering. “You didn’t get a task yesterday from me,” he said. “Because today is your real test. Tonight, you take what we give. And if you do it right; if you take every drop; you’ll earn the right to serve us properly tomorrow.”

He crouched, eyes level with mine. “Tonight is about us. Not our cocks. Not your pleasure. Just our release. And your devotion towards us...”

He stood, then tapped the goblet once. “We fill the cup. You stay on your knees. You watch. And when it’s ready ... you drink.”

He turned and walked back toward the long leather couch where the others were already seated; four half-hard cocks, four pairs of spread legs, thick thighs, wide stances, silent stares.

My heart thudded.

They were gods.

And I was kneeling at their feet.


Chase sat at the center, stretching his long legs out wide. His cock lay heavy across his thigh, the head flushed and already beading. He spat in his palm and started stroking with smooth, easy confidence. Not a man in a hurry. A man in control.

Across from him was Lucas; chest broad, dark curls messy, cock curved upward against his abs. He leaned back, rubbing one thumb around the tip, hips rocking slightly as his hand started moving. “You’re lucky, pledge,” he muttered, eyes on me. “Most guys dream about this their whole lives. You get to watch it happen.”

Then Joshua, his body was leaner but still carved, his cock long and pulsing between his legs. He didn’t stroke right away. He just spread his knees wider and reached down to scratch lazily at his stomach, teasing himself like he had all the time in the world. “You’re hard already, aren’t you?” he said, smirking. “You like being watched. Good. Because you’ll be watched every damn day from now on.”

Brett was more intense. Quiet. Thick legs spread wide, one ankle crossed over the other, his hand slow and firm around his shaft. He didn’t say anything. Just stared straight at me ... cold, calm ... like he could read every dirty thought in my head.

And then Jace. Jace didn’t touch himself yet. He sat like a king. Legs open, chest bare, cock thick and heavy against one thigh. His arms rested on the couch behind him, body relaxed, radiating power. “Look at you,” he said. “Already on your knees. Already needing it.” He let the silence stretch, then tilted his head. “You’re gonna drink from that cup like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.”

The room was pulsing.

Five guys. Five cocks. Five bodies lit with heat and hunger. And me, on my knees, surrounded by their feet, breath shaking, cock aching.

Then Chase started stroking in earnest ... slow, deliberate, each stroke a statement. His thighs flexed, his chest rose and fell, his moans deepening. His toes brushed my thigh as he shifted forward.

I could smell him.

All of him.

“Ready to be baptized?” he muttered.

He grunted ... his abs tightening and then he stood up, towering over me. His cock hovered just above the goblet.

 
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