Frathouse Fucktoy

“So it’s decided, then?” said the president of the Delta Sigma Nu fraternity, peering out the window of their frathouse office at the twerp standing on their manicured lawn, pissing on their grass. The rest of the officers were sitting in a semicircle around his desk, faces impassive, but clearly irritated.

“Well, he’s been evaluated,” said the secretary, waving around a sheaf of papers that had arrived from their biggest sponsor, Hierarch Industries, just this morning. “We know what he is. It’s just a matter of whether we want to teach him his place.”

“If you ask me,” said the treasurer, “for the sake of the Cause, we shouldn’t just pluck any random omega from the streets and educate them.” He rose from his seat and walked to the window. He stopped just behind the president and clenched his jaw. “But that little fucker is really getting on my nerves.”

The president turned around and winked at his partner, copping a feel of his treasurer’s Alpha ass. “You look cute when you’re angry, babe,” he said. The treasurer rolled his eyes. “But you know where my vote lies. So… How do we want to do this?”

Kyle Hastings had been the smartest kid coming out of high school in his ultra-conservative community. He had always been a bit of a runt, but the bullies had been unable to touch him. Oh, they’d tried, but while physically he was no doubt inferior, being short and skinny no matter how much he tried to work out, mentally, he was the undisputed superior of his peers. Or at least he fancied himself as such.

He wasn’t afraid to play dirty, to lie, to cheat, to blackmail. He knew what buttons to push in people, and that was how he’d managed to get a bully to cry on his first day of school. The verbal lashing he’d given had been so intense that the poor kid’s parents thanked him for the change in their son afterwards.

He basked in their adoration. And he used his position to advocate for certain policies and attitudes in the student body that were in line with his more religious upbringing. For one thing, he managed to get the GSA shut down for “immorality,” and he no doubt left a legacy that would make sure the gays would think twice about coming out in their school.

Coming to university was a bit of a culture shock. But he quickly established himself as the BMOC of campus academics. He relished the way that his classmates flocked to him for help with their subjects, and loved to snidely comment on their inadequacies.

Only one thing could have made his freshman year better: joining the most prestigious fraternity on campus. The one that had graduated the most valedictorians, that enjoyed the most funding, that produced the most acclaimed athletes on campus. Delta Sigma Nu. And he would have pledged, if he hadn’t found out that it was full of faggots.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he’d said, when the frat recruiter expressed delight that a hetero man was joining their frat. “No fucking way am I living with a bunch of fairies,” he said. “Disgusting. I know what you fags are like. I’d rather not wake up with some fag whore slobbering over my dick, thanks.”

He couldn’t comprehend that his more conservative, religious values weren’t the norm at the university. So he decided that it would be his mission to make sure that fags were never welcome at the university again. And to that end, he was going to destroy Delta Sigma Nu. He figured that since he was straight, with his towering intellect, no matter how many faggots backed the frat, he would be able to reduce those frat brothers to nothing more than cowering little bitches.

Kyle sighed happily to himself. Two of the fags from Delta Sigma Nu had been holding hands in front of him a few minutes ago. He had called them out for being disgusting deviants, perverts, whores. He’d loved the way that the two had jumped apart, red in the face, the way that some of the girls in the hallway had giggled as a result.

He might have been a good foot shorter and a couple dozen pounds lighter than those jocks, but he knew that he was a thousand times more of a man than the two of them put together. It was the perfect capstone for an already-good day as he’d managed to convince the administration to look into the perverted stuff he was sure was going on in the Delta Sigma Nu frathouse.

And if they didn’t find anything, he was sure that he could make something up. Fags loved straight dick, after all. He was sure he could manipulate one of the fratboys into betraying the rest of his fag friends for a taste of straight cock. “Sup, bro?” said Justin, his roommate, as he entered the common room of their suite. “You look happy,”

“Yeah, bro,” said Kyle, chuckling. “Got the admin to investigate Delta Sigma Nu. Those fags won’t know what hit them,” he said. He was glad that he was rooming with another religious conservative. He’d had enough of the liberal cucks in the university over the last couple of weeks.

“Fuck yeah, bro,” said Justin. “Want a beer?”

“Hit me up,” said Kyle, plopping down on the couch beside Justin as the jock handed over the can to him. He popped open the cap and kicked back, swinging his feet onto the coffee table. He took a deep swig of the beer as he watched the football game unfurl on TV.

Kyle didn’t know when he passed out, but his mouth tasted like sweaty gym socks, and his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. It was literally difficult to think, and even the small amount of light streaming in through the venetian blinds of the nearby window was enough to make him squint and groan.

His mind was moving so slowly, compared to its usual breakneck speed, that he didn’t even realize he wasn’t at home. It took him even longer to realize that he was naked. He looked down at himself his pasty skin, his flat chest, his thin arms, and a cold knot of dread sank into the pit of his flat stomach as he realized that something was locked around his junk.

He reached down between his legs and touched the cage, just to make sure that it was real, and moaned as his cock twitched and pressed up against the confines of it. Fuck. He was horny. Between that and the fog that had settled around his head, he found it almost impossible to think of anything else. But no matter how much he tried to slip his cock out, all he managed to do was jostle the cage and make the brass padlock clink against the stainless steel bars.

It wasn’t until he saw the banner hanging on the nearby wall that he figured out where he was. Delta Sigma Nu. A wave of revulsion washed over him, but it was muted compared to what he would have normally felt, knowing that he was naked, his cock locked, in a den of faggots. But it was enough to snap him out of his stupor. Enough to make him fully aware of his situation. But not enough to make the fuzziness in his head go away.

He looked around for an exit. As fear of being converted wormed its way into his mind, he hyperventilated. The room stank of sweat and musk and cum. There was a jumble of unwashed clothes in the corner, jockstraps of all sorts of colours piled on top of it. He found the door after a moment, but when he tried it, it was locked.

He kicked the door and banged his fist against it, but to no avail. The windows were locked shut, and he didn’t particularly feel like jumping out of the third story of the frathouse. He tried to look around for a phone, anything he could use to communicate with the outside world, but his search was in vain.

An hour passed in fruitless searching. As the sun rose, the room got hotter. Soon enough Kyle was sweating. He sat down in a corner of the room, as far away as he could from the dirty clothes. But the musk from them still got to him. Every inhale was like getting his face shoved into one of the frat brothers’ unwashed crotches.

At first, he hated it. But with every breath, more and more of that insidious musk flooded his lungs. It worked its way into his nose, into his brain. The negative emotion he felt, his bigoted feelings, they were reshaped by the intoxicating odour.

His eyes glazing over, before he could stop to remind himself that this wasn’t something straight men did, that this was perverse beyond belief, he had crawled over to the pile of laundry and shoved his face into one of the jockstraps.

He breathed deeply, feeling the fog clouding his thoughts deepen. But he didn’t mind. It was actually pleasant to not think so much. It felt rather nice to not be going a mile a minute all the time. In fact, it felt so good to just go blank and kneel there, breathing in the delicious musk.

Kyle didn’t even notice how aroused he was, how his cock was dripping pre-cum all over the floor, pressing up against the cage. He didn’t notice how his back arched, his knees spread apart, pushing his ass further up into the air in a submissive posture.

Of their own accord his fingers crept down his slender chest. He played with his locked cock a little bit, flicking at the brass padlock, but not for long. His hand dipped further down, his fingers playing at his taint before moving on to rub around his sensitive hole.

All he could do was gasp and moan as his brain was overridden. Decades of conservative programming and homophobic upbringing were obliterated as he willingly gave them up for another hit of that intoxicating, addictive pleasure.

By the time that the frat brothers returned from the day’s classes, he was little more than a drooling, moaning mess in the corner. He looked over his shoulder at them, eyes wide, a trickle of saliva dripping from the tip of his chin.

A small part of him was horrified that the “fags” were seeing him in this state. He tried to regain his old, confident bluster. He grasped for the scathing words, the tongue-lashing that he used to be so adept at, but between the fog in his head, and the insistent throbbing pleasure of his hole, all that he could blurt out was a desperate “Please, fuck me!”

The Delta Sigma Nu secretary shook his head and looked at the president. “Did you really have to leave him baking for so long?”

The president shrugged. “Well, what do you say, boys? Should we indulge him?” It was a rhetorical question, of course. As much as they had converted Kyle Hastings into an omega, into an out-of-control cock whore, doing so had an effect on them as well. A frathouse full of unmated Alphas in the presence of an unmated omega that just looked so eager to serve?

Well, needless to say, it was a miracle that Kyle could still walk once the brothers were done with him.

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