The College Sex List
Copyright© 2026 by Golden Ghost Pen
Chapter 1
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A college junior's body is available for sign-up...all in an effort to "get ahead".
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Gay BDSM DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Gang Bang Anal Sex Cream Pie Oral Sex
I’d just finished my first ever round of finals in college and I couldn’t really pretend that I was all that proud of my grades. I’d squeaked out a 2.9 GPA at the elite private university in Southern Virginia that I’d dreamt of joining my whole life.
Coming here was supposed to set me up for a long career of climbing the power ladder of corporate america, consulting, or government, but it’d been kicking my ass instead, threatening to make me look like the dumbest smart person in the room. What pissed me off the most was that I was competing against a rigged system/
It felt like every single person around me, which in the case of my school, was 80% male, had connections that were feeding them exam answers or helping with a professor for extra credit. Just getting in here had been nearly impossible for me with my average, middle class background, and now I was seeing that the legacy connections weren’t just of use to get in the door; they were helping my fellow students to cruise their way through freshman year. Everything was graded on a curve, so if half the guys had a built-in A, it meant I had to be at the very top of everyone else to stand a chance.
The other reason I’d come here was for the chance to join an influential centuries-old men’s club, called Aristos. The group was exactly as the Ancient Greek meaning would infer: a guaranteed pathway to power and success through its nearly limitless legacy network.
It had exactly fifty male members at any given time, which meant there were usually between ten and fifteen new slots each year. Three criteria determined those who got in: Intellect (grades), Influence (which usually meant a combination of family wealth and power), and ‘Value’. I was fucked on the influence piece, but I’d hoped grades would be a wash on intellect with other applicants. That had turned out to be a dud for me too.
On value, where the group was looking for people who could bring something unique to expand the network’s reach, I thought I had a leg up.
There’d never been a gay member, or at least an out one. While that wouldn’t have been surprising two hundred years ago, today it was a missed opportunity for business and influence that I hoped to help them bridge. It was a stretch, but it was the one thing I could bring to the table that no one else could.
Just before Winter Break, I’d gotten my interview. I was sitting down in a waiting area of their off-campus house, with another guy who I recognized from some of my classes.
“Hey man, how are you?” I asked.
He looked at me with the same judgmental eyes I was used to on campus, the ones that made clear that he came from money and could see right through me and my secondhand clothes. “Yo. What’s your name? You interviewing?”
“I am, yeah.” I expressed calmly. I was confident in myself, even if I was sometimes soft-spoken. “My name is Riggs, but you can call me Sawyer.”
“Riggs?” He made an ugly face.
I felt the same way he did, cursing my parents constantly for giving me a unique, southern sounding name that stood out so much. Thankfully, they’d given me a middle name that I could embrace and use in higher places of society. I usually didn’t even bother explaining that Sawyer was my middle name. “Long story. Just call me Sawyer.”
“Sure buddy ... I’ll call you that.” He said, chuckling. I could tell his assumption was that he wouldn’t be seeing me around this house longterm, anyway.
“What’s your name?” It felt like pulling teeth to keep the conversation going.
“I’m Jeremiah.” He held out his hand and I took it. I knew his look from a mile away. The kind of guy that older adults thought was a sweetheart and respectful, but who was actually a shithead, privileged womanizer; someone who’d sell their friends out in a second to get ahead.
Jeremiah went in first and I was soon called into another room, just a few minutes later.
“Sawyer, huh? You’re from Louisiana?” A red-headed senior asked me.
“I am, sir.” I responded. He was barely older than me, but being respectful of authority was how I was raised. That submissive attitude carried into other things too.
I explained my journey. “Well, as of lately, Louisiana. I moved around a bunch as a kid, though. Louisiana, Texas, Florida, California. Military family. My older brother, Jake, is serving.” I’d hoped that would be another wild card positive.
“Is he an officer?” The guy asked, with a raised eyebrow.
I shook my head. He jotted something down and chuckled. Well, that had been a wild card, but maybe it was a negative one.
“Sawyer, your grades suck. You’d get kicked out if you have less than a 3.0 at the end of the year. And nobody here knows your last name.” The guy was blunt. “Why are you even here?”
I nodded, watching my dreams fade away. “I understand. But I’ve worked my ass off to get here, way more than the other guys you’re talking to.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” The guy asked. “You think you’re better than them because you come from nothing? Around here, that’s not a positive, kid.”
My heart was racing, but I knew I had to keep my composure. “I’ll get my grades up. That won’t be an issue.” I chose my next words carefully. “And I think I could do a lot to open up new lines of business and support with the gay community for our graduates.”
His eyebrow raised, “oh? Why is that?”
I made a suggestive head nod. “I think they’d understand me.”
“I see. Well, thanks Sawyer. We’ll be in touch...” He was dismissing me within five minutes of meeting me. I couldn’t believe he didn’t seem to have have the slightest interest in what I was pitching.
The next week at home was difficult. I’d gotten into the school I needed to, but joining Aristos was the guarantee for an easy life that I desperately wanted. When the call came, on Christmas Eve no less, it wasn’t what I’d expected. Somehow, for some reason, they invited me to join.
The unique deal was easy for me to agree to. It turned out that they liked my pitch and had done their own due diligence on the market that the businesspeople and politicians in their graduate ranks were missing out on. They saw the value in a young, handsome gay guy, especially one from the south with military family connections. When they looked at me, it was with dollar signs in their eyes. I was more than happy to serve that role for them if it was my slingshot to a better life.
But it wasn’t enough. They wanted more. They’d taken a vote and had an offer for me, one that at first made my jaw drop. They wanted me to not only serve the greater good of Aristos, but to quite literally serve the current college students of the group. It was simple; one day a week, all four years, no holds barred ... and they’d even waive the academic requirements.
I couldn’t believe my luck. I could get in, have sex with a bunch of elite, straight men, and set myself up for future success? That was supposed to be difficult for me to accept?
Would could possibly go wrong?
THREE YEARS LATER: SPRING OF MY SENIOR YEAR
I was exhausted. It was Monday and all I wanted was to sleep, but instead I was sitting through a physics class that I had zero interest in, working to simply satisfy a general education requirement with a C. That C was also being taken care of by a family friend of my best friend in Aristos, Walker. The rule was that I just had to show up to class ... which turned out to be annoying enough.
The weekend parties had been more tiring than usual this week. I should’ve skipped a Sunday fun day too, but the weather was finally above freezing, so I couldn’t possibly say no to all the guys when they were heading out to bars.
Monday also meant that the list would be out by midnight. The list. Both my favorite and least favorite part of the week. For three years, ever since January as a freshman, that list was used for Aristos guys to sign up ... for me.
The rules were easy. I could decline anything if I really wanted to and there was a basic expectation of hygiene and testing. Given how poorly some guys did on the former, I really hoped that they took the latter more seriously.
Almost all the time, it was amazing, but every now and then, when a certain name or specific act appeared on that list, it made my skin crawl thinking about doing it Wednesday.
Not because I still couldn’t find pleasure in those moments, but more so because some of these guys were annoying jerks, felt beneath me, or needed to learn how to shower...
Wednesday at 8PM. That’s when my room opened up to run down the list. Guys waited in line, with a general time to arrive that I’d confirm just as the guy before them finished. Every single week since freshman year. As much I might complain sometimes, I was going to miss it badly when I graduated in a few months.
And man ... it really made the numbers pile up. At first, guys were hesitant, unwilling to be labeled as gay or bi. But once they started talking, it was almost half the group that wanted to try it out with me at least once. I’d say that about eighty percent of the time, it was heaven. What gay college guy wouldn’t line up to suck and fuck a bunch of horny straight dudes?
And boy, were there a lot. I kept a journal to track it, to be exact. The number was a badge of honor: 36. That was the number of guys who’d fucked me since I’d moved in. Which was less than the 52 who I’d given head to, but a lot more than the 16 who’d been daring enough to ask me for a rimjob. I had some regulars, while others had only come once or twice in their time at school ... those were usually some of my favorite guys; the more innocent, inexperienced, or lonely ones whose world I could really rock.
The only truly annoying part of the arrangement was their expectation that I shaved everything between my neck and knees, weekly. I cursed my genes for giving me a naturally furry upper body, groin, and ass, because it meant a constant, itchy, hourlong shaving affair. At first, I aimed to do it Wednesday mornings but, over time, I let them deal with stubble on my chest, above my dick, or in my cheeks. There were only a handful of guys who ever said anything, and it’s not like it stopped them from topping me anyway.
It did make dating pretty fucking hard, though. Like I said, you’d think every horny college gay guy would understand the position I was in. Most even joked, when they found out that I was in Aristos, that they were jealous to be around so many hot straight guys. Some even said they’d have given anything to get to have sex with a bunch of them. And yet, the second I told them that that’s exactly what I was doing, they were gone in a flash.
What did all of that lead to? Zero boyfriends and only four guys I’d actually had sex with under ‘normal’ circumstances all of college.
Was it worth it? You bet it was. I was on the road to unlimited freedom, success, and influence. If it meant sucking a few dirtier than I’d have preferred dicks along the way, then so be it.
3 Years Later: I rolled over in my bed to the morning light barely peeking in between the blackout curtains I’d put up last year. Tuesday already, huh? Time flies when you’re counting down to hump day ... which in my case, was quite literally ‘hump’ day.
The cutoff for the Wednesday list, which scheduled my ‘appointments’, was midnight going into Tuesday, so these mornings usually dictated what I’d need to do to prepare.
I honestly loved the arrangement at least 90% of the time. What gay college kid wouldn’t sign up for this? The other 10% wasn’t even bad, as much as it was just plain annoying. Even the ‘bad’ ones were still attractive and felt good, it was more just that I hated some of them for who they were, or for their lack of hygiene. It was a fine trade off, so I always checked that list first thing in the morning.
I propped myself up on one elbow, the sheet slipping down to my bare waist, exposing the little stubble under my belly button, which I’d recently shaved for my club mates. They liked it that way; it made it easier for them to have a smooth toy to play with, who was less of a threat to their straight identities.
I opened up the shared doc on my phone. Time to see who was lining up for pleasure tomorrow.
First name: Jeremiah. Of course. That asshole senior with the boy next door grin that fooled everyone but me. Fill you up. He had such a way with words. I’m sure his girlfriend thought he was such a sweet talker.
Might want a rimjob too if I’m in the mood.
Ugh. My stomach twisted a bit at that. Jeremiah was the biggest stereotype of a disgusting straight guy; he single handedly gave them their gross reputation. Sometimes, I wondered what he actually did in the shower, because he certainly wasn’t scrubbing anywhere that was hard to reach...