Climax

Roddy couldn't think straight. Every nerve in his body was on fire with pure, unadulterated arousal. His little nub was as erect as it could get in its flat, pink cage, painfully straining against the plastic. His colon felt horrifically empty without Christian's massive cock inside of it, and he yearned for someone -- anyone -- to bend him over and finish the job. Roddy had never reached such levels of blue balls before; he was ready to blow.

Suddenly, he found himself back downstairs -- his feet had mindlessly taken him back from Christian's room. Kevan, Tony, and Lance were huddled in a corner in the living room, talking in frantic whispers. Roddy sidled up next to them; his friends made a conscious effort not to look down at his obvious, albeit restrained, boner.

"Lance was just debriefing us," Tony explained.

"Christian came down here with his big ol' cock at full mast," Kevan recounted, "and asked if anyone wanted to come watch him 'split the houseboy in half.'"

Roddy felt himself grow red. Looking down, he saw that his chest and part of his belly were blushing, too. Full-body humiliation. His impossibly hard cock pulsed. "He offered to fuck me. I said yes, because..."

He trailed off. Why had he said yes? It wasn't necessarily about getting to climax, as the alternative was to get his cage removed. Roddy began to realize the dark genius behind Christian's latest mind game. There was no good reason for Roddy to have accepted. But his mind -- and libido -- had become warped from his days in chastity, with a vibrating butt plug edging him every night. Of course he had come to crave cock.

But he still had no idea what to say to his friends.

"Hey, man..." Tony broke the silence, shuffling awkwardly. "It's okay if you just wanted to get dicked down by some horse-hung weirdo. You don't have to justify yourself to us."

Roddy felt a rush of emotions -- Tony's words almost made tears well in his eyes.

"Yeah, so you like dudes," Lance rolled his eyes. "No one cares."

"But it's more than liking dudes," Roddy pressed. "I liked... all this! Everything that's happening to me has made me hornier and hornier."

Tony shrugged. "If I was forced to discover and then live out my kinks in public..."

"We'd all be doomed," Kevan joked, getting a big laugh from the rest of the guys.

"Tony's right, for once," Lance added. "You're into whatever you're into; it's not your fault you have to share it with the rest of us. But it is Christian's fault, and now we definitely have to take him down tonight."

Roddy nodded. "Christian said he was going to take my cage off at the party tonight. Whenever he and I go off to do that, you can make your move."

"But we have to time it right," Kevan reiterated. "He has to see it for this to work."

"If this even works," Lance muttered.

"Sigma Rho Eta! Sigma Rho Eta! SPH! SPH!" a voice boomed through the first floor. "Brothers! It's time to move out and go get some hot Kappa Delta ass!"

Roddy turned to face his friends, "Well, I guess it's now or never."

He darted off to grab his clothes from the entryway and get dressed before he left. On his way there, he bumped into Oliver. Oliver was wearing a tight, graphic tee and baggy cargo shorts that hung delectably below his waist, revealing the plaid waistband of his boxers.

Roddy felt a well of sadness wash over him. He'd had real chemistry with Oliver, but Christian had used his power as the class Alpha to ban Roddy from fucking Oliver. Christian's rule over their fellow pledges only lasted for their freshman year, but Oliver was a senior. He'd never get the chance to really pursue things there.

"Heard you put on quite the show," Oliver said with a grin, no trace of jealousy or criticism in his voice. "I can't believe you took a cock that big!"

"Well," Roddy retorted, "I learned from the best." Roddy noticed Oliver's chest hair poking out from his shirt collar, further strengthening Roddy's never-ending erection as he pictured Oliver's strong, hairy little naked body.

Suddenly, Oliver's expression became more serious. "I just want to remind you... quitting is an option, you know? You could drop the frat, get your dick unlocked, escape Christian... maybe even come by and fuck me again..."

Roddy was surprised -- Oliver had always seemed rather committed to SPH and its rules. After all, he'd been an eager participant the day Roddy was locked in chastity. He mumbled a half-baked excuse to Oliver, but internally, he made a decision. If their plan didn't work tonight, he would drop the frat, even though it meant dishonoring his family's male legacy and losing out on all the benefits and connections afforded by SPH.

Back in the foyer, Roddy went over towards the nook where his clothes were stashed -- only to find them missing. Next to his phone, wallet, and keys were instead a ribbed white tank top and a classic white cotton jockstrap. Roddy's heart began to race. It could have been any of the brothers who'd done this, but the message was clear: this was the outfit he would have to wear to the sorority party.

The tank top was at least two sizes too small -- it didn't reach even reach his belly button, and caused his midsection to pudge out beneath the hem. The jock fit fine around the waist, but he didn't come close to filling out the pouch; the extra fabric hung limply, clearly revealing his lack of manhood. The outfit had the added humiliation of highlighting how every inch of his body had been shaved bare.

The other brothers started filtering into the foyer as the group headed out for the party. Roddy was greeted with whoops and hollers, and more than a few sharp slaps to his bare bottom.

"Dude, what are you wearing?" Tony asked once Roddy's friends had caught up with him. They exited the frat house, the brisk fall air making Roddy's nipples stand at full attention and tent the thin, tight fabric of his tank top.

Roddy was shuffling uncomfortably, the pain of the impossibly small cage against his unwavering hard-on making it difficult to walk with a confident stride.

"Hey, look," someone called from behind them, "Masters fucked the houseboy so hard he's walking funny!"

Roddy didn't bother to protest -- in fact, he felt fine after taking Christian's enormous tool, as if he'd been riding cock for years. But the jeers did have the effect of strengthening his little boner, serving to make him walk even more stiltedly.

"My guy," Kevan insisted, "are you really going to go to the party like this?"

Roddy shrugged. "The plan only works if I'm there to distract him. If we do it right..."

"I'll never have to see that blindingly pale ass of yours again," Kevan finished.

***

The Kappa Delta sorority house was newer and nicer than the SPH mansion, although it lacked the grand and historic aura of some of the other buildings on Greek Row. It was also considerably cleaner and smelled nicer, although Roddy figured that would not last after a night with his frat brothers wreaking havoc.

The frat boys filtered in like a tidal wave, most making a beeline for the folding table with the drinks, while others set quickly to work flirting with the KD girls. Roddy made quite a splash with the women, who giggled at his skimpy outfit and ambushed him with candid photos. Unable to change his predicament, he decided to be a good sport, posing and flexing for the pictures with the girls.

At one point, as Roddy was making his way back from the kitchen with a beer, he felt someone grab the back of his waistband before he could reenter the living room. He hadn't noticed anyone else in the dark, narrow hallway. Roddy froze, aware that any false moves would end up with the last of his modesty slipping away.

"Have you seen her?" a voice lowed. It was Christian, his baritone unmistakable.

Roddy felt a finger force its way between his ass cheeks, slipping easily into his still-loosened hole. Roddy retreated deeper into the hallway to get out of view of the living room, Christian's bony finger sliding ever further up inside him.

"Who?" Roddy asked.

As if angered, Christian slid another finger inside, vigorously thrusting against the walnut of Roddy's prostate. "Caroline," he hissed.

Of course. The woman who started it all -- if Roddy hadn't hooked up with Caroline (never mind that he wasn't even able to get it up at the time), he'd never have provoked Christian's jealousy and the subsequent sex games.

"No, I haven't," he answered, panting from the stimulation.

Christian made a frustrated grunt. "She can't not be here!"

He increased the intensity of his probing; Roddy's eyes went starry.

"If you see her," he hissed, "call me and over and say, 'I hear you went to high school with my friend, Christian.'"

Roddy's mind was racing. "Why not just talk to her yourself?"

"I need an in. If she thinks I'm friends with someone like you..." Christian trailed off. Roddy didn't need him to say it -- Christian wanted to shed his reputation as an isolated weirdo and start fresh for a chance at wooing his longtime crush. He'd said as much before.

Christian pressed firmly against Roddy's P-spot, leading Roddy to let out a high-pitched whine. With that, Christian removed his fingers and huffed back out into the main room.

Roddy looked down and saw that precum had wet the front of his jock, creating a small but semi-transparent window. Christian never wasted an opportunity to fuel his humiliation.

He made his way back into the living room, where everyone was dancing, flirting, and in some cases, making out or more. Tony and Kevan were playing beer pong with Zach and Bobby; Lance was standing off by himself, scanning the crowd. He caught Roddy's eye and gestured around the room, a quizzical and concerned look on his face. Roddy only shrugged and shook his head, unable to help Lance find who or what he was looking for.

To Roddy's surprise, Christian was leaned against a wall chatting up two very pretty KD girls. His demeanor had completely changed from just a moment ago, an easy smile gracing his strong jaw. In the party lights, with that grin and a twinkle in his eyes, Christian looked like your run-of-the-mill hot frat boy, instead of the dour menace Roddy had come to know.

Roddy watched as one of the girls placed a hand on Christian's chest -- Christian almost recoiled at her touch. Roddy wondered how many chances at sex and romance Christian had passed up thanks to his obsession with Caroline Hunter.

Just then, Christian turned and met Roddy's gaze, beckoning him over. Roddy's stomach sank, but his dicklet rose, wondering what Christian had in store for him next.

He made his way over to Christian and his new friends, a short, slight blonde and a busty redhead.

"Do you girls know Higgins?"

The redhead responded, "Only by reputation," casting her gaze at the poorly filled out front of Roddy's jockstrap.

"This is Lily," Christian introduced, gesturing towards the redhead, "and this is Alyssa. They were just telling me that they're bored and want to play a game."

"A game?" Roddy asked.

Lily nodded, "I wanted to play stack cup."

"And I want to play strip poker!" Alyssa added.

"So we all agreed on strip poker," Christian summarized. "A classic frat-srat mixer game."

"Uh," Roddy grew redder, "I think I'm okay, guys. I'm already pretty 'stripped' as it is."

"Oh come on, man," Christian responded, "you have to play!"

To an innocent bystander, it sounded like Christian was friendlily encouraging Roddy to join them. But Roddy knew he had just received an order he couldn't refuse.

He offered a weak smile in response to the cheers of encouragement from the girls. The SPH brothers had finished their beer pong game, so Lily went over to claim the plastic table, clearing off the cups and wiping off the sticky beer residue. Meanwhile, Christian grabbed some folding chairs to arrange around the table. Alyssa disappeared and came back with a deck of playing cards.

As the group settled in around the table, Kevan approached and asked, "What are you guys doing?"

"We're playing strip poker!" Alyssa told him cheerfully. "You should join us!"

"You should definitely join us," Lily agreed, eyeing Kevan up and down greedily.

Kevan met Roddy's gaze; Roddy just shrugged. "Up to you."

"Sure," he decided, still hesitant. Kevan pulled up a stool and sat between Roddy and Lily.

"So," Alyssa began to explain, shuffling the cards like a seasoned dealer. "Here's house rules. No need to bet, no need to fold. Whoever has the worst hand each round has to remove an item of clothing. Socks and shoes go first, then your top, then bottoms, then your underwear. For Lily and I that'll be our bras and our panties. The last person to not be totally naked wins the game."

"What happens if you're already naked and lose a round?" Kevan asked.

Alyssa grinned. "You'll have to do a forfeit! The dealer of the hand decides what exactly the forfeit is."

"Wait," Roddy protested. "I don't have enough clothes to keep up -- I have no pants."

"We can just do your socks and shoes separately," Alyssa shrugged.

"Actually, I think you do have a fourth item to take off," Christian countered. Then he leaned into Roddy's ear and whispered, "You better hope you lose, because this is your chance to get your cage off. Otherwise, it's four more weeks."

Roddy's heartrate soared. "Oh, Christian's right. Never mind."

Kevan turned to look at Roddy, a small horror in his eyes. Roddy didn't know whether to throw the game and liberate his cock, or fight against yet another public humiliation. He wasn't that great at poker to begin with; ultimately, his fate lied in the cards.

"We're playing Texas Hold 'em," Alyssa told them.

They tossed in their "antes" while Alyssa dealt out the first hand with blinding speed and precision. She was clearly an experienced cardplayer. Roddy looked at his hand: two sevens. Off to a good start.

Kevin lost the first round with a king high. He peeled off his socks and sneakers, revealing his size-14s. Everyone was relatively quiet, anxious to get into the late game.

After a few more rounds, everyone had lost their shoes and Christian had lost his shirt, his ghostly skin and thick, dark body hair on display under the flashing colored lights. He looked almost statuesque in this lighting, the sharp angles of his chin and collarbone pleasingly accentuated.

A small crowd had gathered to watch the game unfold, an equal mix of men and women. Roddy started feeling uneasy, but he was on a solid streak of good hands. If his luck held out, he could preserve some modesty yet.

And indeed, it seemed like things were going his way -- Lily and Alyssa lost the next two rounds, losing their tops. The frat brothers in the crowd whooped as they removed their shirts, eliciting eye rolls from the girls.

The women had their turn to reciprocate as Kevan lost his shirt next, cheering as he stripped to reveal his well-defined pecs and abs. The neon pink waistband of Kevan's underwear was peeking out of his jeans. Roddy clenched his fists, begging his little pecker not to stiffen.

It was Roddy's turn to deal. He shuffled the cards, a little clumsily, but all the same dealt out around the table. He looked at his own cards -- the two of spades and the three of hearts. Not a great start, but he figured he might be able to catch a straight.

He revealed the flop: two sevens and the four of diamonds. He needed the turn and river to be a five and a six, but Roddy was feeling lucky.

"So I have to ask," said Lily. "What's your mystery fourth piece of clothing?"

Roddy paused, unsure of how to answer. Before Christian could speak, Kevan mercifully cut in: "You'll have to wait and see."

"If we're lucky," assed Alyssa with a wink.

And indeed, luck wasn't on Roddy's side after all. The next two rounds revealed a queen and a third seven, leaving Roddy with a queen high to his name. He was dead last by far; Christian won the round with a four-of-a-kind, somehow holding the final seven in his hand. Roddy shod his shirt, leaving him with no margin for error. One more round lost would result in his exposure.

Now, everyone was tied, bare-chested all. Roddy felt embarrassed by the contrast of his smooth, definition-less figure next to Kevan's etched musculature and Christian's mane of coarse, manly body hair. His bare ass in the jockstrap began to sweat, his cheeks sticking to the plastic of the chair.

Fortunately, Christian lost the next round along with his pants. The crowd was treated to his pale, skinny legs and his plaid boxer shorts -- his monstrous cock shamelessly poking out through the bottom of the left leg hole.

There were scattered gasps through the crowd; Lily's jaw dropped open. Christian sat back down with a smirk. "A sneak peak," he smarmed.

Roddy scanned the crowd but didn't see Tony or Lance: a good sign. He turned his attention back to the game and was surprised to find himself winning with a full house. When everyone revealed their hands, Kevan came up short and was made to peel his joggers off. There was wolf-whistling in the crowd as his tight pink boxer briefs came into view, his own enormous hog barely concealed by the thin fabric. Roddy's pulse began to quicken, beginning to fear the worst.

Thankfully, he was safe again the next round -- and Christian in turn became the first at the table to wind up totally nude. He stood, smirking and hamming it up for the crowd. Slowly, he worked his thumbs into the worn waistband of his shorts and began to gently tug.

Finally, in a fell swoop, he dropped his underwear to his ankles and presented his manhood proudly to the crowd. There was awe among both sexes, some brothers who had not yet seen Christian's massive cock staring agog with wonder and envy. He seemed to like the attention, his dick swelling just slightly as he took in the crowd's admiration.

Roddy's own dicklet began to stir too, well-trained by now at the sight of Christian's schlong. He prayed he'd be able to keep his modesty now, chastity be damned.

And fortunately, Roddy survived another hand: Kevan was next to reveal the family jewels, his girthy cock impressing the crowd in equal measure.

"SPH boys sure are well-hung," Alyssa remarked. Roddy cringed.

It was Roddy's turn to deal again. He had gotten in the groove of it by now, shuffling and slinging the cards a little more smoothly. The only hindrances were his sweaty palms causing cards to stick to them, but his nerves were only getting worse the longer the game went on.

Kevan lost again, coming up short with a pair of two's. He was already naked and thus owed a forfeit, and it was up to Roddy as dealer to decide what it would be. Roddy's instinct was to go for something banal and gentle -- a silly little dance, or a few bars of a song -- but lust took over, his mind clouded from his days of teasing and denial.

"Your forfeit," Roddy announced, "is to play with yourself and make yourself hard in front of the crowd."

The audience was electrified. Kevan turned to his friend in disbelief. "Seriously?" he said.

Roddy shrugged, "Sorry, I panicked!"

Kevan stood up and faced the crowd, his meat swinging in front of his heavy balls. He grasped his cock, barely able to reach his fingers around his soft form, and began tugging. Soon Kevan's dick began to grow; he leaned back, thrusting his hips forward and letting his left hand dangle by his side. His knees bent as he began to moan, gently caressing his hand across his enormous pecs. The women in the audience were aflutter, and the room was bouncing with echoes of "he's so hot!" "so sexy!" "so big!"

Finally, Kevan reached full mast, his erection standing rigid and virile. To prove it to the crowd, he pulled his cock back against his stomach and let it rebound, bouncing temptingly as it returned to position. He sat back down in his stool, the height of which, coupled with the angle he had to sit at to accommodate his boner, made him present himself rather crudely to the crowd.