Chapter 7: The Goblet of BrotherHood Brew

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.”