“Come on boys, time to get those asses up. We have a lot to discuss today, because we’re going to be making a few changes around here.”
The young men of Phi Beta Alpha all moaned a bit, still struggling with their hangovers and their recollections of their first wild party under their new Frat Daddy. Tyler sat up on the couch where he must have collapsed, looked at their frat’s Daddy sitting in a high backed chair in front of the fireplace, a mug of coffee steaming on the small table beside him, and a cigar burning in his other hand, and tried to remember the man from the night before.
He’d been older, but rather unassuming. Average build. He could almost recall glasses, but he wasn’t sure. A beard, but a rather thin one. Not unattractive, but not particularly striking either. He’d been wearing khakis, a button down shirt, no tie. The man sitting in the chair before them, however, only vaguely resembled the man from his memory. It was hard to take in anything other than the clothes at first, the leather boots shining in the light of the morning sun through the window, chaps stretched tight across Daddy’s thick thighs and calves, his monstrous cock and balls exposed, lying against the side of his thigh. He had on no shirt, just a leather vest and an armband with the insignia of PBA made from steel studs. The same insignia was on the leather muir cap he was wearing.
Under the gear, the man was simply massive. It was difficult to tell because he was sitting, but he had to be over six feet tall, perhaps by several inches. His shoulders were broad, chest and torso shaped like a barrel, packed with muscle and a tight muscle gut underneath. There was hair everywhere, across his belly and chest, on top of his shoulders and down his arms. He had a thick full beard with a touch of silver, trimmed neatly to about an inch long. He picked up the mug in his massive hands, took a sip, and set it back down. “Come on boys,” Ethan said, his voice deeper, with a bit of a western twang, “Hurry up and gather around Daddy’s boots, we have a lot to cover today, and you don’t want to waste Daddy’s time.”
The fratboys gathered around, skipping the chairs and the couches and instead sitting on the floor around Daddy, where boys were supposed to be, looking up at him. The more they stared, the less out of sorts he seemed to be, and Ethan smiled. When he’d woken up this morning, he’d felt like he’d needed a bit of a makeover, and the amulet had helped give him the body of his fantasies. Now it was time for his boys to help make a few more come true. He looked down at their anxious faces, none of them knowing what to expect, and his cock got a little harder, leaking a little bit of precum onto his chaps.
“Now, as your new Frat Daddy, my first impression of you boys here is that you lack discipline. For far too long, you’ve had Daddies who let you do whatever you like, who don’t best know how to help young men like yourselves grow up and mature into proper PBA men. Well all of that is going to change starting now. You might find me to be a taskmaster. You will consider my methods too harsh, at first. But these are the rules my frat daddy had for me when I was a PBA boy, and so they will be the rules you must abide by as well.”
He allowed a pause, but none of the boys spoke up. A few looked confused, their heads trying to catch up to reality as best they could. The amulet glinted in the sunlight–it would sort things out in any case.
“First things first, will be the establishment of a proper uniform for all of you boys, while you are under my care. While in the house, the only thing you will be permitted to wear are the items I am about to show you now. Outside the house, when you attend classes, you will be allowed to wear civilian clothes over it, but you may not remove the uniform unless given explicit permission, is that clear?”
Silence again.
“When I ask a question boys, the proper response is ‘Yes Daddy,’ is it not? Or do all of you lack even that basic understanding of your role here?”
“Yes Daddy,” the fratboys said, but it was a mutter. Displeased, Ethan stood up from the chair, rising to his full height of six foot five, grabbed one of the boys in front by the wrist, and dragged him forward so he was on his belly, and then Ethan straddled his back, pinning the boy to the ground, head towards the fireplace, with his ass before the rest of the young men. Ethan picked him because he hadn’t said anything either time, and he groped the young man’s tight ass in his rough hands. He brought one hand down, hard, on the young man’s ass, and made him holler.
“All of you will need to learn quickly that I do not tolerate lax discipline among my boys,” Ethan said, and brought down a hand on the other cheek, bringing out another yelp of pain. “You will not question me, and you will obey my commands with enthusiasm. You are members of this fraternity, this brotherhood,” he said, and smacked the ass before him again, hearing the young man sob slightly, “because you all wish to become proper PBA men. But I know full well that the only way to become a man is to be a boy first. Obedient, eager, and submissive.” Another smack, and the young man was shuddering now. “Do you all understand?”
A resounding cry of “Yes, Daddy” came from the fratboys, along with one whimpered cry behind him, and Ethan got off the boy’s back, rolled him over, and pulled him into his arms. The sudden embrace surprised the boy, and he tried to flinch away for a moment, but Daddy’s arms were too tight, and after a moment, he relented, and pressed his face into Daddy’s chest. “I will be hard on you. You will resent me at times. I do these things because I believe you boys are capable of withstanding them, and growing stronger. Some of you will not rise to the challenge I give you. Some of you will break, and will be expelled. But trust me when I say, that if you embrace me, my rules, my dominance, my order, you will understand in time that it was all worth it.
The young man in Daddy’s arms, named Jamie, was caught between too many different feelings in that moment, and much to his surprise, began to cry, though he didn’t quite know why. The other boys looked uncomfortable, but Daddy stroked his head, held him close, his musk washing over him. “Daddy has you boy, you did well, thank you for serving me,” Ethan said, only loud enough for Jamie to hear, and much to his continued confusion, Jamie felt his cock throb. When he’d regained most of his composure after a minute or two, Ethan stood up and returned to his chair, but kept Jamie with him, sitting on the ground between his legs, both hands on his shoulders, squeezing him gently, reminding him of his power, and also of his care.
“First, on matters of personal grooming,” Daddy said, “All boys will have their heads shaven each day, when you wake up. You will rise at six each morning, gather in the communal bathroom, and shave one another’s heads clean. No one is permitted to shave their facial hair without my explicit approval, and the same goes for all other hair on your bodies. Shaving your heads is a sign of discipline, and your status–growing your hair shows that you desire to become men, true proper, PBA men. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, after you shave, you will be permitted your weekly, communal shower, and you all must soap and wash one another, never yourselves. Your soap will be unscented, and deodorant and any other scented product is forbidden. If you want to become men, you will have to smell like one soon enough.” He stood up from his chair, finished his coffee, and picked up his cigar. “Come on then, we might as well take care of that much. Then we will discuss the house uniform in more detail.
The boys discovered that all of the separate bathrooms in the house had disappeared, and one massive open bathroom had replaced them. Along one wall were several sinks and mirrors, along the other were toilets with no partitions. The third wall had a line of shower heads and soap dispensers between them. Daddy told the boys to pair up, take a stool from where they were stacked in a corner, collect a set of shaving gear, and begin–scissors first, if the hair was long, and then a razor–no electric equipment. Any boy who cut another would receive a spank from Daddy, for disrespecting their brother’s trust.
One boy, however, held back. Carter had been growing his hair out since he was little, and it was stunning–thick golden blond waves falling down to the middle of his back, which he usually had pulled up into a bun or kept in a ponytail. He was eyeing the scissors as someone would eye a noose, and Ethan went over to him, pulled him close, and guided him to a stool, telling him he would take care of him personally.
Carter sat on the stool, shaking a bit, obviously trying not to cry, while Daddy got out the scissors and ran his hands through his long hair, and at last, he begged, “Please Daddy, please don’t cut it, I’ve worked so long on it, please, anything else but not this…”
“Boy, that’s why I have to cut it,” Ethan said in his ear, “This hair is your pride, and no boy can become a man without being humbled. This is a gift for me. Offer this to me. I will not cut it until you ask it of me, because I have to know that you want what I can give you more than you want your precious hair.”
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this to us!”
“Because you need it. Because all of you need it, even if you don’t realize it yet. You think this is enough,” Ethan said, wrapping one hand in Carter’s hair and pulling it tight, “But what happens when you lose it? You think this hair makes you a man. You think this hair makes you who you are, but look in the mirror, go on, look,” Ethan said, and turned him towards a mirror, and Carter gasped.
It was…him in the mirror, but…older. Probably in his fifties, but what Carter couldn’t look away from was his head. His hair was gone–no, not gone, but the ensuing thirty years had not been kind. He only had a ring of hair left, brittle and greying and thin, but still long–but he could see in his older eyes how empty he was. How hard he had fought to keep that hair, where he’d stored so much of himself for so long, and now that it was gone, what was left? He wasn’t looking at a man, he was looking at a shell.
“Keep your hair if you so desire. Leave. I can expel you, but know that this is what waits for you if you do so, if you turn your back on your brothers now. If you turn your back on me.”
“If…If you cut it, what do I look like then?”
“I do not know–that is up to you, boy, and the work you do here for me.”
Carter ground his teeth for a moment, before whispering, “Cut it.”
“What was that boy?”
Carter realized that the entire bathroom had gone silent, and everyone was staring at him. “I said cut it, Daddy. Cut it off.”
“Thank you boy,” Ethan said, gathered his hair up in a fist, took the scissors and sheered it off. Carter let out a sob despite trying to remain strong, and then went quiet as Daddy cut away what remained, lathered his scalp, and shaved him smooth. Carter looked at himself in the mirror again, and didn’t recognize the face looking back at him. That…older version, he had known that was him somehow, even with all those years between them. But this new head, hairless and pale, he didn’t know who this was at all, and that terrified him more. But it was done. Daddy administered the required spankings for the boy’s whose blades had nicked one another, and after a shower observed by Daddy, the boys dried off and went upstairs, where their two room dorm rooms had been converted into one communal living area. The boys personal effects were gathered either in a small chest between the bunks or at the floor of the bed, or at the desks lining the other side of the room. On each bed was a small pile of gear.
Ethan led Carter over to his bunk, and used him to demonstrate the uniform. First, a bulldog leather harness on their chest, second, a leather jockstrap, and lastly, a buttplug. The plug, Daddy said, was especially important. Any boy found without a plug in their hole at any time would be subjected to substantial punishment. The plugs he’d provided them to start with were small–he saw the boys eyes go a bit wide when he said that. Apparently, they didn’t have the same understanding of ‘small’ that he did. Ethan helped the boys into their new uniforms, often having to work the plug in himself, since they were a bit too shy. Much to his surprise, one of the only boys to do everything himself was Jamie, the boy he had spanked downstairs. Without so much as a whisper of disobedience, he put on the harness as Daddy had demonstrated, sat down, and worked the plug into his hole with a grimace, but succeeded with less tears than others. Daddy made sure to put a hand on his shoulder, reach down and give his cock a little grope through the jock, showing him that he was pleased. When all the boys were dressed, they lined up for the final piece of their uniform–their collar. One by one, they kneeled down before Daddy as he went down the line, put the leather collar around their neck and padlocked them closed, and had each boy kiss the head of his cock and thank him for accepting them into the PBA brotherhood. He had them all stand again, and he looked down the line, head’s shaven, strapped into their new leather gear, all of their faces coated with a layer of fine scruff, and Ethan had to resist the urge to order them all to bend over so he could fuck them on a line. Later though.
Daddy brought the boys back downstairs and into the kitchen–where they found that most of the cooking equipment was gone, with a sizable machine against the wall. “From now on, you boys will be kept on a strict diet–a minimum of 5000 calories a day. This machine will dispense meals for you, and also keep track of your consumption, so I can monitor your progress. You are, of course, welcome to consume more if you so choose.”
The boys murmured a bit, and one of them spoke up, “Daddy…that’s…a lot.”
“Do you boys want to grow into men or not?”
“But what if we get fat?”
“Luckily, you have access to a newly installed house gym in the basement. The food here is more than willing to convert to fat or muscle. Whichever you would prefer is up to you and your discipline.”
No one was sure how to reply to that, and were a bit scared of upsetting Daddy, and so they stayed quiet. “In addition to your new diet, all of you will be expected to smoke at least two cigars a day,” Daddy said, leading the boys to the sizable humidor that had been installed near the kitchen. “Why don’t we get started, since I know some of you have never smoked one before. Take a cigar boys.”
Ethan walked the boys through the process of lighting a cigar. He used his lighter–a privilege, he emphasized. The boys used long cigar matches, cutting the end, turning the cigar for an even light, several of them taking in too much and coughing.
“That’s good boys, nothing will get you going and feeling horny like smoking a cigar,” he said, feeling the amulet heat up slightly against his hairy chest. Sure enough, some of the boys reached down and started groping their cocks, only for Daddy to walk over and slap their hands away. “No masturbation! Men don’t need to masturbate–men need to fuck. If you want to nut, you’re going to have to use a hole. One of your brothers’ holes.”
The boys looked around at one another nervously.
You can, if you so choose, offer your hole to a brother willingly. But, any boy who subdues and forcefully removes the plug of another brother gains the right to that hole then and there, regardless of who it is–you will submit, and submit gladly.
It didn’t take long for the first gasp to come up from the crowd of boys. They all turned, and saw that Jamie had reached out and tugged Tyler’s plug out with a pop, making him double over in pain from the sudden removal. Jamie, who had been hard and horny since receiving his public spanking from Daddy earlier, bent him over the back of a couch in the living room, lined up his cock, and drove inside, gently, but eager. Half the boys watched in shock, while the others all backed up against various walls and looked at each other suspiciously, their own bulges pushing out as they continued smoking.
“It’s up to you all, how you will negotiate this. I know many of you consider yourselves straight, though I have my doubts. One thing you are all, for certain, is brothers, and in my years as a frat daddy, one thing I can say with certainty is that you will only get through this together. You will need to learn to trust and appreciate and service one another as you service me.
Against the wall, two boys, Jameson and another, looked at each other, reached down, and pulled the plugs free from each other’s holes. Jameson was still loose from getting fucked by Daddy the night before, and part of him…missed it. He turned around against the wall, cigar gripped in his teeth, and allowed his brother to plunge into his hole and start rutting. Other groups of boys were wrestling each other to the ground, to discover who would come out on top. Daddy watched it all unfold before his eyes, his own cock growing to its substantial nine inch length, and growled in approval. A boy named Steve pinned Carter to the ground, pulled his plug free, and replaced it with his own cock in a moment, and Daddy stomped over, gripped the plug in Steve’s hole, tugged it free, and pressed his own cock to the boy’s hole. Steve tried to squirm away, but Daddy gripped him, shoving his own cock deep into the boy’s guts, and driving his own cock deeper into Carter below them, smashed beneath them both. Daddy provided all the momentum. With each drive into Steven’s hole, Steven would find himself fucking Carter, who would let out another groan of pain or pleasure, or something between the two. Steve came first, but Daddy didn’t relent. Steve ended up unloading a second time with Daddy holding him close, the heat of his cigar next to his ear, Daddy growling sweet little nothings into his ear before spilling his own load into the boy’s guts. He pulled free, and shoved the plug back in before any of Daddy’s seed could spill back out. He pulled Steve and Carter close to him on either side, sitting on the floor, sharing smoky kisses and paying extra attention to Carter’s smooth head, feeling the boy shudder each time Daddy rubbed his hand over his scalp.
Yeah, Ethan was going to enjoy this, he thought to himself, he was going to turn the fratboys into real men–the men he wanted them to be, and he was going to love every moment of it.
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Bracken's Corner 