Chapter 1

I had to admit that it sounded a bit silly to me at first. It was a fraternity, right? There would be a little hazing, some kind of initiation, and then we would be welcome members of the local Greek community. Well, as it turned out, I had picked something very different from your standard glorified party club. How was I to know that when I joined them?

A part of me suspected that I was admitted to Sigma Omega Sigma because I was older than most and had the proper ID to be a great straw buyer of booze. None of that would be among the official reasons, of course, but I wasn't a fool. I'd been in the Navy and secured a college fund between its program and my savings. I was still in the Reserve, naturally. I'd seen more hazing in boot camp than most Greek organizations could imagine, delivered by drill instructors who knew how to really weed out the unfit. I was a man and most of my classmates were still youths.

What I didn't know, I quickly found out on day one of the "orientation", a code name for initiation that had supposedly been banned by the administration. I learned much that morning, when I was roused from my bed on a Saturday morning and led blindfolded to a vault underneath the main fraternity hall. It was a day that would transform me forever, in a very fortunate way.

When my blindfold was removed, I saw a naked woman, her eyes covered up as well. In front of her stood a tall, equally naked guy with a whip. Her mouth was engaged in sucking his cock and there were marks from the whip across her back and buttocks. I saw cum leaking from her other holes, proving that she had already been fucked every way possible as well as whipped.

"Alright, lads. Step right up and take your pleasure. There are some rules, however. Rule one: no rubbers here in Covenant Hall. We at Sigma Omega Sigma reserve such things for liars, women whom we can't trust. Heather here can be trusted. She lives to serve us, don't you, Heather? That's a good girl. You, there. You look slightly older than most. What's your name? Tell it to Heather, right before you fuck her," the man with the whip pointed it at me.

"I'm Mark. Should I say my last name, too?" I asked the stranger.

"No. That's rule two: no last names here. We are all brothers. We pledge our sacred honor to this covenant, that we are of the same blood and the same heart. First names only. Very well, you have told Heather that you are Mark. You will fuck her, either in the cunt or the ass. Rule three: we never call it a pussy. It's always a cunt. Why? Because that's derived from the Latin root 'cunnus', an older and less mushy term for that part of the woman's anatomy. Now, fuck her, Mark," he directed me.

I had to admit that I was hard as granite from seeing the woman's naked ass. The fact that she had been whipped and didn't seem to hold it against her assailant was also a real turn-on. Her willingness to suck a man's dick didn't hurt, either. I approached her and put aside all fears of social diseases and such. I had committed myself to this brotherhood for at least a term, and I should see it through. I didn't quit the Navy in spite of my fears, so why would I let something easy like this stop me?

My cock buried itself into Heather's asshole, since I had gone far too long without anal sex. My last girlfriend had seen to that, with her hatred of sodomy. Well, that was only one of the reasons why she was my ex. I needed to get that urge out of my system and Heather was an easy channel for my lust. I grasped her now crimson cheeks while I buggered her, intensifying her pain as well as her evident pleasure. I realized then that she was a pain slut. She loved it when someone hurt her.

I thrust angrily into Heather's ass, using her for my self-gratification without any sense of shame. After all, this was what I was told to do. I agreed to follow orders and I would do just that. Besides, she seemed to really enjoy the strokes as I butt-fucked her. I felt her squirm with arousal and smelled her wet cunt.

I ignored the fact that other men had clearly used Heather and left their cum behind as evidence. That was apparently one of the bonding aspects of our communal existence. As I came, I noticed as she no longer sucked off the guy with the whip. Instead, he was soft again and she was busy licking drops of his seed off the floor. Sensing that she needed some gesture of approval, I slapped each of her cheeks once after I pulled out and returned to the line of guys.

"Impressive, Mark. You show a lot of promise already. See, brethren? He took his pleasure without any obvious guilt or pangs of self-doubt. He didn't let performance anxiety stop him. Instead, he sodomized a girl he never met in front of us, his new brothers. That was a very risky act, but it was a gamble that will pay off for you, Mark. I see much potential for leadership here if you keep this up.

"I'm also pleased to see that you used your anger in a good cause and a controlled manner. Furthermore, you gave her a token of your satisfaction by granting her the pain and attention that she enjoys so much. You figured out what Heather is. She is a pain slut. She is here by her own free will. Nobody abducted or raped her. I won't tell you her background. That is not important. What matters is that Mark here knew exactly how to handle this natural slave.

"Who's next? How about you, yeah, you, the guy who can't keep his hands off his dick? Rule number four: no masturbation in Sigma Omega Sigma at all. We don't jack off, because we have sluts to help us with our needs. Masturbation is for those poor saps out there who don't have women to serve them. It is a mark of lesser men, who don't know how to enslave and dominate women.

"Let me make this clear. This is not a normal fraternity. This is a brotherhood of like-minded men, an order of fellow masters. When we're done with you, if we find you worthy, you'll be a member of an elite that officially doesn't exist. You'll know better than that, of course. Society has brainwashed you, told you lies and propaganda.

"You've been taught that men and women are equal, but with the subtle message that women are really more equal than men. That is hogwash, claptrap, poppycock. Equality is a state of mind, an abstraction that rarely exists in real life. The truth is that you are only as great and worthy as you deserve. To earn it, you must both have potential for excellence and the will to make yourself achieve it.

"What we seek here are masters, dominant men who are capable of ruling the women in their lives. To be a master is to be the true alpha male. A master doesn't let the woman set the rules. A master doesn't let a woman rule him with her cunt. A master doesn't limit himself to one woman. He fucks whomever he pleases and he doesn't put up with lies or mental games. He isn't cruel in the sense of being unjust, but he is cruel in the sense of being willing to cause necessary pain. Most of all, he handpicks the right women to enslave.

"So, Mr. Masturbator, what is your name?" the stranger lectured us.

"Justin, sir," he stammered.

"Don't call me 'sir'. That's a mark of submission. That's what some submissives or slaves call their masters. If you're really capable of doing this, prove it. Fuck Heather in whichever hole you wish," he told the kid.

Justin was clearly a rich boy out of his depth. He nervously approached Heather and tried to penetrate her cunt in vain. He couldn't get it up anymore. His hard-on was gone. Something was very wrong. Heather sensed it, too, as she showed by sighing with impatience. I wondered if the trainer was aware of her exasperation.

"Alright, that's enough. Justin, stand up. Now, kneel beside Heather," the instructor told the pledge.

Justin not only didn't question the order, but he started getting hard again as he knelt. There was no doubt as far as I was concerned, and my unspoken thoughts seemed to also be in the organizer's mind. Justin wasn't up to the standards of Covenant Hall. The master of ceremonies then brought the whip to Justin's back and his victim made involuntary noises of excitement. Justin was anything but a master. He was a slave at heart.