I don't think Brian knew how much trouble he was in with the rival frat. He had gone too far. In a frenzied, drunken state, Brian had tied some rope to the rival frat's porch columns and pulled down the porch...it was a humiliating blow. However they had plans to get Brian back for his little mistake.
Brian had been working out in the gym late Thursday evening, and was walking back to his frat house when a van pulled up and a number of guys jumped out putting a bag over his head and hauling him yelling and kicking into the van. All he could hear was laughing and yelling, and the roar of the engine as they sped away. The bag was lifted off his head only long enough for a cloth to be placed over his nose and mouth...and gently, very gently the sounds diminished, and the images faded to black.
He woke up with a start, hearing whispers and feeling a cool breeze. His eyes were covered up, and as he started to raise his hands to move the cloth he realized that they were tied. He was on his back and his hands were tied above his head to each side...he started struggling and realized that his feet were tied as well. He heard laughing, and it made him realize that he was completely naked. "Hey what the fuck, why am I naked? Jeff? Dave? Is that you? I am fucking going to kill you, untie me now!" yelled Brian. This was greeted with even more laughter, which made him madder. "Fucking untie me and get me some clothes fags..." yelled Brian. He was suspecting that it was some guys from the rival frat, but there was some fear in his voice that it might be something more sinister.
Fingers gently slid along the bottom of his barefoot making him flitch in response. A nipple was gently grazed with a fingernail, a hand slid slowly up his strong naked thigh. Brian had a body any guy would envy. He was a wrestler all through high school and now continued on in college. His body was in hard, tiptop shape. From his perfect head of brown hair, all the way down his strong, almost hairless body, to his well-defined feet, he was model material. He was one of those guys that could, and did have any girl he laid eyes on. However he and this week's girl were having a little fight over his drinking too much, she had kept her legs crossed the past week, but promised a great night on Friday if 'Brian was a good boy". So his penis that was clothed only in the breeze was plump and ready for some good action. Fingers lightly touched his plump penis, he jumped and yelled, "Hey fag, get your hands off me, I ain't fucking gay!" With that a gag was pushed into his mouth muffling his insults. Now the only noise in the room was his struggle against the ropes and his muffled protests. He felt something wet and warm being applied to his groin. It was being rubbed in all around his penis; the hand cupped his balls and rubbed in the moisture. He began to feel the tingle of the mentholated shaving cream that they had applied to his pubic hair. Realizing what his captors were planning to do, he began to struggle all the more. Until he heard a gently whisper in his ear, "Going on...keep struggling, it will be up to you if we cut off your dick..."
With that he felt a hand rubbing in more of the shaving cream...rubbing his balls with one hand, the other hand massaging the shaft. He felt a tingle of pleasure in the rubbing; his mind began to fight the rush of blood that was going to his dick. With no sexual release for the past week, he was primed and ready to go. He heard laughter; he began to blush knowing that it was at his swelling dick. "Looks like you're enjoying this," whispered the voice in his ear.
This enraged him more, and he began to struggle against the restrains forgetting the first warning about moving. Then he felt them starting to shave his pubic hair. Fearing a knick in an uncomfortable place, he grudgingly went still. He was humiliated. Here he was tied up naked and his pubic hair being shaved off. How was he going to explain this to "this week's gal'?
The person doing the shaving was holding his shaft and would gently rub the head while he was shaving around. He wanted to struggle and stop his rubbing, but not at the risk of being cut. His penis would slip out of the person's hands only for a firmer grip to hold the tip of his penis. If that wasn't enough, he felt fingers gently and slowly squeezing his nipples. At this point he wasn't sure how many were in the room, his blindfold allowed no images or light to be seen. But as the shaving went on, more and more hands gently touched his body, rubbing, massaging, playing with his nakedness, increasing his pleasure and shame, his penis began to swell. He was angry with himself for finding pleasure in such things. When the shaving was complete, a warm cloth wiped away the excess shaving cream. The tingling of the shaving cream, and the cool air now surrounding his plump, but not fully erect penis, made him only feel more naked.
He heard some faint whispers; he struggled to hear what they were saying, but only heard the mumbling. He felt someone grab his penis and gently slide something over the head that slid all the way to the base of the shaft. He wasn't sure what it was, but it felt like metal and was a little cold. After that, it was an all out assault of pleasure. The hand that gripped his penis, dedicated itself to the under side of his sensitive head. A hand gently massaged his balls, applying slight pressure. His nipples were pinched a little harder, his feet were massaged, and his thighs were rubbed. It seems as if a thousand hands were all over his naked form. He tried struggling against the restrains and tried to flee the hands, but to no avail.