Eric’s father had not been “born to the purple,” as my mother would say. It was an expression she used to deride the “nouveau riche,” the families that had made their money only in the past generation. It was her opinion that such fortunes are easily made, but holding such a position of wealth and nobility for several generations, as my family had done, was far more difficult. She believed that old money families had a certain refinement and restraint in taste that those new to wealth lacked. I reflected on this as I entered the office of Eric’s father. The high ceilinged room was vast and open, with expensive couches and obscure statuary cluttering the central area.
There were already half a dozen other boys in the room, pushing couches and statues to to the sides and dimming the lights. I walked through the side door of the room into the annex, and found myself greeted by the sight of Eric’s naked backside. His clothes were neatly folded on shelf and he was pulling out a ceremonial robe. Hearing me enter, he looked over his shoulder and smirked at me. “Take a picture,” he said, “It’ll last longer.”
“You have some nerve hosting this meeting during a party” I hissed at him, ignoring the jibe he directed at me.
“And you don’t?” He turned to face me, now clothed in his robe. He tossed me one. “Strip. We’re running late.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I tore off my clothes in a hurry, tossing them in a messy pile.
“Seriously? Are you blind? You brought your little rent boy to a party at my house. You danced with him. You think no one will notice that you’re queer? You think your family name makes you impervious to rumors? Jack, every single fucking kid down there wants to see you broken, every one of them wants to spit in your face. How many real friends do you think you have?” He turned toward the door, flipping the hood over his head as he did. “But hey,” he called back at me, “stay classy.”
I stood there, butt naked in the annex, my face red with anger, fists clenched in impotent rage. I counted down slowly, remembering that there was still a meeting to be held. Eric and I could have some words later. For now, I put on the robe and headed back out. The lights were now off, but hooded figures held torches evenly spaced throughout the room. They did not provide illumination so much as make the darkness seem more encompassing. I took my place standing beside Eric, facing the door to the hall. I glanced over towards his hooded face and noticed that even in near total darkness, he still hadn’t taken off his sunglasses. Asshole.
The doors opened, and eight freshmen boys were pushed in. They stumbled drunkenly forward, I imagine Eric had encouraged Owen to put an extra something in their drinks this evening. They clumped together in the center of the room, daring not to say and clinging to each other for support. Rich bastard 14 year olds, decked out in lacoste shirts and crocs. Who wears crocs? They’re shitty footwear.
Eric began the traditional opening to the meeting, intoning in poorly translated latin:
“Salve, pueri pathice et cinaede pueri. Pedicabo ego vos et irrummabo.”
I continued: “Initiates, We are the semi-secret society that you may have heard about before. From the entire freshman class, the eight of you have been selected by the members gathered here as possible members. Four of you will be inducted into our order, four of you will be sent away, who stays and who leaves depends entirely on you. We have prepared a series of challenges. The system is elimination. If you lose a challenge, you are eliminated. If, after losing a challenge, you wish to not be eliminated, you must buy your way back in.”
I paused, savoring the words I was about to say next, “The price for buying back in the first time is your clothes. All other prices after that we will decide when the time comes.” There was some mild whispering at this, but the gathered freshmen were too intimidated to let it go on for more than a few seconds.
Eric then picked up where I left off. “Fantastic! Alright, the first challenge is...”
---------------------------------------------Liam looked around the party as he downed another gin and sprite. He never had the chance to drink before now, and he hadn’t really planned on drinking a lot tonight, but without Jack nearby, and all of the people at the party that he didn’t know, he was feeling a bit alone. And that loneliness made him fearful.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Liam turned to the voice. A boy with shaggy blond hair sat on the bar stool next to him, smiling softly. He probably was about sixteen or so, but his angular, boyish face and gentle blue eyes made him seem a bit younger.
“Can’t complain,” Liam replied, “the drinks are free.” “I don’t drink” smiled the boy. “Neither do I... usually. But I’ve only got one friend here, and I can’t find him.” “If Eric’s your only friend here, you’re not going to find him.” “Eric?” Liam’s mind whirled for a second. Who knew that little bit to drink would make you so slow? “oh, right, him... no, he’s not my friend. How do you know Eric?” “I don’t... I’ve met him a couple times through people I know at school. They know him because, actually, I don’t know how they know him. He doesn’t go to our school.” “Oh...” Liam frowned a bit, “You’re here with friends?”
The boy chuckled, and pointed into the massive crowd at a drunken group that was barely standing up. The weight of the crowd kept them upright. “Oh... so, why aren’t you out there with them?” “I told you,” said the boy, “I don’t like to drink.” Liam looked at his half empty cup and put it back down on the bar. No more for him to tonight. “Well then, I guess I might as well introduce myself.” The boy stuck out his hand “I’m Oskar.” “Liam,” he replied, giving the offered hand a quick shake.
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Russell’s family had been prominent in this city for four generations. His family name was on the city’s Armory, as well as the University’s library. He had grown up spending his summers at the Golf Club in the city and at the prominent Country Club where all of the city’s elite were members. He was old money, and he knew it. Which made it all the more embarrassing that here he was, his 14 year old body completely naked before this group of 12 hooded and robed members of this secret organization. So secret, in fact, that he hadn’t even properly known its name. But he had heard of it, of course. Whispers from older boys, some in fear, some in admiration. The simple fact was, if you were one of the best, you went to the Academy, and the best of the Academy had formed a secret organization. If you wanted to be the very best, you had better be in that organization.
And that was why (along with a good bit of alcohol) Russell was not only willing to stand naked in front of hooded strangers, but that a brown haired 14 year old boy was on his knees in front of him, sucking his dick, even though both of them were totally, totally not gay. This was their punishment, their bribe for being allowed to play in this tournament some more, their way to buy back in after losing yet another challenge. In another section of the room, two other naked 14 year old boys were wrestling, participating in their own challenge. The loser would be thrown out, unless he could offer yet another bribe to stay back in.
All eight freshmen had long been naked at this point. The challenges had started on the intellectual end. One had been a brilliantly fast paced history quiz, where not only did the participants have to get answers right, they had to answer more quickly than the other seven. That had lasted 10 minutes, with each question and answer only lasting 15 seconds. Points were awarded and deducted furiously, and at the end, there was no question that two boys had placed dead last. Blushing, they had stripped down, furtively trying to cover their nakedness with their hands while robed figures whisked their clothes away. Russell had to admit that there was a method to the madness, several challenges, some involving math, some logical problem solving, even one impromptu story telling challenge, and eight naked boys later, he was thoroughly convinced that the seven other boys were quite intellectually gifted. To be a member of a group filled with minds like these would be an honor. It was only when he had lost a second challenge that he had realized, with abject horror, that he, Russell, the scion of one of the greatest and richest families in the city, had lost what was quite possibly the most important tournament of his life.
He had lost, he couldn’t believe it. He had dropped to his knees and started begging at the robed figures to please, please let him stay in. “I’ll give you anything!” he had pleaded. They had chuckled at that, and one then smoothly asked “But what do you have to give? You don’t have any material items on you.” “I’ll... pay you back later! A hundred dollars each!” “Well,” the one at the far end of the room said, who just now Russell realized, from the glint of the torchlight, must be wearing sunglasses in this near pitch black room, “though we admire your attempt at a bribe, One, it wouldn’t be your money, it would be your father’s money. Two, does anyone in this room really look like a hundred dollars means anything to them? Three, and most importantly, we don’t accept IOUs. Whatever you bribe us with, you pay now.”
And Russell had collapsed, crestfallen, because he couldn’t imagine anything he had to give. Then the hooded figure standing next to the one wearing sunglasses spoke up, “Perhaps,” his smooth voice flowed over the room like silk, “we could be convinced to let you stay if you and your fellow loser provided us with some entertainment.” Russell then remembered that another boy had lost when he did, a mousy brown haired boy named Chas, or something. They both looked up at each other, and then turned to face the shadowy robes. “What sort of entertainment?” the mousy haired boy squeaked. “Suggest something,” the shadow intoned once more. And that was when Russell’s alcohol fueled mind made the leap, the dangerous, horrible, shameful leap, but maybe, just maybe it would work, and he shouted it out before he lost his courage, “He could suck my dick!”
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Liam and Oskar had talked for at least a half hour before they decided that the room was getting to stuffy and they should probably get some air. Wandering out into the cool, night air, they sat on the stone steps at the far edge of the porch, staring up into the starry sky. Out here, away from the city lights and even a bit aways from the lights of Eric’s house, they could see the see the stars clearly, winking silently in the cold blackness.
It was a chilly night, despite it being late spring, and Liam started to shiver without a sweater. Oskar put his arm over Liam’s shoulder and pulled him close as their conversation continued.
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We had been conducting this meeting for at least three hours now. I considered pulling Eric aside and determining what he expected to do about the partying crowds downstairs. I didn’t bother though. Knowing him, he had an inner group of friends who would act as bouncers, and as the party wore down, would help people out, and dump drunks on couches until they were sober enough to go home.
A good thing to, because it looked like this meeting was going to take all night. I had expected to have the boys naked and humiliated, but after that, I thought that when they had lost a challenge, that they would give up. Then Russell had lost. That was disappointing. I had been good friends with an older cousin of his growing up, and he had just graduated from the same middle school I went to. I would have liked to see him succeed. But, I was ready to dismiss him, and that’s when he had shouted out, “He could suck my dick!”
That, I was not expecting. But Chas had been willing, and they had gone at it. At this point, I was glad that Eric hadn’t glanced knowingly at me, and more importantly, that Geoffrey had kept his wits about him long enough to suggest that David and Peter should wrestle for the next challenge. Three sweaty minutes letter, Peter was very securely pinned and I had a fantastic view of David’s ass. Russell hadn’t cum at that point, so we told him and Chas that they could stop, much to Chas’ relief. Russell, on the other hand, was hard and needing it, and so was disappointed.
After declaring David the winner, we were all ready to kick out Peter, until he said he’d do one better than Chas and Russell. That really made everyone pause. “Such as?” I queried. “I, um, saw this one porno...” and here he blushed while everyone chuckled, “where the boy licked the girl’s asshole... and I’d be willing to let the next loser lick mine.” Muttering and whispering filled the room until I raised my hand to silence them. Then, I asked, “but what if the next loser is not willing to lick yours?” “Then I’ll lick his!” The reply was instantaneous, slightly slurred, and filled with bravado. Silently, I resolved to ask Eric what Owen had spiked the drinks with.
Well, what started as one wrestling match turned into a wrestling round robin tournament. And as the losers started piling up, they literally started piling on. Rimming gave way to kissing, kissing gave way to sucking on nipples, which gave way to jacking each other off, which gave way to fingering. Since each match only lasted about a few minutes, each punishment/bribe lasted for the same length of time, and though each boy got turned on, none had enough time to cum. Three hours in, we found ourselves with a pile of 14 year old boys, still somewhat drunk, naked, sweating from wrestling, horny as hell from having fooled around with each other, each having wrestled everyone else, and two final losers without any idea what to do to them. Thank god the robes were loose fitting, because I was hard enough to split diamonds. The folds hid my erection well.
“Well then, gentlemen, how do you propose buying your way out of this?” The two sweaty 14 year olds swayed slightly in front of me. “Suck each other’s dicks?” “That’s been done.” “Rim each other?” “Also been done.” “Finger each other?” “Already happening over there.” There was an epic, awkward pause. Everyone in that room knew that nearly every possibility had been exhausted. Only one final threshold remained uncrossed. I closed my eyes briefly, imagining one of the boys on his knees and elbows, his sweaty bangs clinging to his forehhead, eyes squeezed shut and panting heavily as the boy behind him pumped his thighs back and forth, the sound of skin slapping against skin. Everybody saw that image in their mind, everyone knew that was next. All it would take would be one of the boys to suggest. The red-headed ginger kid, Zach was his name, spoke up, practically shouting. “Fuck it! NO! I’m not doing it. I’m not fucking Steve, and I’m not going to have Steve fuck me. I’m done. I quit.”
Then it was done. Thankfully, this hadn’t gotten too out of hand... Just some minor messing around was all that happened, we had finally found the limit these boys would take, it wouldn’t take much more to eliminate two more boys... “I’ll do it.” The whisper was barely perceptible. For a second, I thought that I had only imagined it. But then, louder, and more confidently, Steve said it, “I want to stay in. If Zach doesn’t want to, he can leave. But I’m willing.”
There was absolute silence. For once, even Eric didn’t know what to do. Sure, we all thought this was the next step, but never did we think we would actually go through with it. Then Eric stepped forward, once again large and in charge. “Return Zach’s clothes, and please escort him from the room. Zach, I would like to remind you that this society is to remain a secret.” “Trust me,” replied Zach, “I am never, ever telling anyone what I just did.” And with that, he got dressed, and left.
One down, seven to go. And now the bar was set at fucking.
fucking awesome!
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