I arrive at the hotel room a few minutes late. The scheduled time was at 5pm and I was to be prompt and specifically dressed in my best suit, worthy of gaining fraternity status. The pledge-master opened the door and inspects me from feet to head. I'm wearing polished my black loafers, sheer dark blue socks, and my neatly pressed charcoal 3-button Calvin Klein suit. Under my buttoned-up suit, I am wearing my neatly pressed white Brooks b*****r's oxford shirt, and silk baby blue tie. A thin cotton Calvin Klein t-shirt and my black and red CK briefs complete my undergarments. I am clean shaven, hair cropped short, and the scent of Chrome cologne permeates the immediate air.
After taking in my impressive appearance, I’m allowed in. His demeanor is staid, so I can't tell if he’s upset because I am late, or even pleased to see me. Dressed casually in khakis and a dark polo, he tells me to sit and offers me a beer. I take a seat at the table, and while sipping my beverage, I survey the room. It's quite nice and has a lot of room, but I notice a decent size drop cloth under my feet, that fills up the space between the table and queen size bed. Suddenly, he takes the other chair and we begin chatting...
After the small talk, the hotel phone rings. It's quick and coded, which gets me thinking. He asks me if I am ready to be initiated in your esteemed fraternity, and I tell you "yes". He approaches me, and in a condescending tone, I am commended on my attire. Before I can say anything, he gently grabs my tie and pulls it out from under my coat. I start to get a bit nervous, but turned on, as he caresses my silk tie (which is knotted perfectly in a Windsor against my button-down collar). Suddenly, there is a knock on the door. He gives me a sinister looking smirk, and asks me if I am sure that I'm ready. All I can do is nod my head, and quietly ask "who's at the door?" My question is ignored, and he tosses the bottom end of my tie over my shoulder.
The door opens to two guys, both resembling the typical frat boy persona, nicely built wearing college apparel. I begin to tense, and it is recognized. The pledge-leader, Patrick, introduces Mike and Rob, and tells me they are to observe, and assist if need be. The three of them approach me, and begin to stare me down. Patrick firmly announces some sort of initiation intro. I quickly try to adjust my tie and tuck it back into my coat, but his arm and palm shoot out at my chest, and grabs me by the tie and the front of my shirt. He leans in and asks why I was late. I'm quiet, yet aroused by the domineering presence. With his free hand, he smacks me across the face. I’m asked a second time, and I hesitate. He smacks me again. Again, he asks me. This time, it’s more demanding, and Patrick tightens his grip on me. I look down, and see my shirt and tie bunched up in his fist. I am extremely turned-on but regain my composure. I politely inform him that he’s wrinkling my shirt, which gets me another slap, and an ultimatum. I stammer, but tell him it was because of traffic (Or was it??) Patrick yanks me out of the chair, and pulls me up close. I can feel my shirt collar digging into my neck, and the seams under my arms stretching. He informs me that a pledge's tardiness is cause for extra paddling in the initiation process, I am hurled face down onto the bed. Mike and Rob step in, each grabbing a wrist of mine, and hold me down. My legs are spread, and my ankles tied to each of the bottom bed posts. I try to squirm, but a couple of smacks to my head take care of that. I am instructed to count out after each whack-"one, and another, please sir" and so forth, until I am told to cease counting. The first whack rips heat through my body, and my ass cheeks cringe in pain. I yell my first count. Patrick paddles me again, and again, and again. They all want to see more of my ass, but my coat tail is in the way. I feel the back side of my suit jacket grabbed, and suddenly ripped apart from the bottom to the collar. I curse whoever did that, but am told to shut up, and to continue counting. I am whacked twenty times, and can almost be certain my butt is on fire. The sweat drenches my face and neck, and my eyes are watery. I am untied at the ankles, and hoisted up off the bed by the back of my belt.
Before I can complain about my suit, Patrick shoves me against the wall, and rips open the front of my jacket, popping off each of the buttons. The three frats stare at me, and as I look down, I can also see the bulge in the front of my slacks. They agree that I am enjoying my initiation, and to finish off my jacket. As Patrick pulls me from the wall, Mike grabs my arms from behind and holds me, as Rob takes a pair of scissors to my jacket. I start to struggle, but am advised to stay still so I don't get hurt. I stand there moaning, watching in erotic humility as the fine material is cut and torn, until the shreds are collected around our feet. Before I can utter a word, I’m f***ed to my knees.
Holding me by the tie in one hand, and a leather strap in the other, Patrick tells me to get on all fours. When I hesitate, he whips me across the chest. The sting is painful, but he issues another across my stomach. Even through two layers of material (my oxford and undershirt), it feels hellish. I get on all fours, and he tells his cohorts that your fraternity is in need of a new pet, and it was time to audition me as a candidate. Before I can motion any kind of vote, my backside gets the strap. I’m hit four or five times more (I lost count), before I am conformed to imitating their newly imagined fraternity mascot. My pet name is Spot, a lowly mutt, and am told to not make any verbal noises other than that of a dog. I am made to crawl on my palms and knees, and my necktie is my leash. I’m told that it’s dinner time, and two bowls are placed in front of me. One is filled with Refried Beans, to resemble dog food (thankfully, because I would have thrown-up all over the place), and the other with beer. I look up at Patrick in disbelief, and he reaches down, takes the knot of my tie and firmly chokes me. I quickly abide, and lower my face to the bowl of beans, then my face is shoved into it, and I choke down what I can. When I’ve pleased my master, he grabs my hair, lifts my head over to the bowl of beer and shoves my face into that. My face is covered and disgusting. Using my tie, Patrick pulls me upright, and he and the other two guys make comments of my appearance, and Mike takes a piece of my torn suit jacket and wipes my mug clean. They agree on a name for me…Spot. Rob takes out a sharpie marker, and as I’m held firmly in place, he writes my name, Spot, in big bold letters on the back of my white shirt. After I’m labeled they proceed to take me outside for recreation and to potty…
continued to part 2