Date: Sun, 22 Jul 2012 11:16:11 -0700 (PDT) From: Macout Mann Subject: Delta Iota Kappa This is a story about college and fraternity life. It contains explicit sexual activity between males. If such is offensive to you or if you are not of an age where reading such material is legal, please move on. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story. Your comments and criticisms are always appreciated. All emails will be answered. macoutman@yahoo.com. Please also keep these stories available to all without charge. Contribute what you can to nifty.org. DELTA IOTA KAPPA by Macout Mann Chapter 1 Rush Week Delta Iota Kappa was the most prestigious fraternity at Sanderson U, a Mainstream Protestant University on Virginia's Eastern Shore. The fraternity's position in the hierarchy was unusual, since it was a local; but that's how it had always been. It was the first frat on the sprawling, isolated campus, chartered long before any of the national Greek Letter Organizations took any interest in Sanderson. Also in addition to the usual procedures surrounding "rush week," its membership application process was much more extensive and comprehensive than that employed by other fraternities. Yet it always seemed to claim the smartest students, best athletes, most active student leaders, and the best looking guys on campus year after year. Immediately after the names of those accepted to the freshman class were released, each potential student received a mailing from Delta Iota Kappa, introducing him to the organization, detailing its history, and listing some current members and their positions in the university student hierarchy. There was an extensive six page questionnaire included, and the covering letter said that if the incoming freshman was interested in membership, he should fill it out in full and return it as soon as possible. The questionnaire contained items like these: List the name and address of the high school teacher that personally liked you the most (not necessarily the one you liked best or from whom you earned best grades.). List the name and address of the high school teacher that you personally liked the least (not necessarily the one from whom you earned worst grades). List the name and address of the friend that you feel likes you best (not necessarily the one you like best). List the name and address of the acquaintance that you feel likes you least. What is your favorite leisure activity? List the name and address of the person with whom you most often engage in it. Give us examples of situations in which you have kept things in confidence. And, of course, there was the dreaded essay: Tell us about yourself (not what you want us to know about you, but what you are really like). Given the reputation of Delta Iota Kappa, a remarkably high percentage of entering students chose to return the questionnaire, even though they thought the people whose names they supplied would be contacted by the fraternity. And they were. Each received a questionnaire keyed to area around which that their names had been supplied. These queries had been carefully prepared by psychologists to subtly gain a portrait of the subject's personality, character, and get at least an inkling of his sexual proclivities. Now "DIKa" (pronounced with a "long `i'"), as it was referred to on campus, didn't think of itself as a gay organization; but it was built on the belief that proper male bonding did have to involve man to man sex. So, given the university's protestant affiliation, the ability to keep secrets was held to be the highest of virtues. That's the reason that to the confidence question rare answers like, "To give an answer to this question would betray the confidences I have kept," were scored very high. The brothers read and scored each of the questionnaires submitted by the entering class. The replies from the other respondents were scored by alumni psychologists. The results were tabulated, and the top seventy-five rising freshmen received invitations to visit the house during rush week and to compete to fill the twenty-five places in the pledge class. This was contrary to the practice of the national fraternities, who sent invitations to the entire group of entering freshmen. Recommendations and legacies had some effect in the selection process, but after the scores were tabulated, one on one contact was the primary determinant for a prospect's being invited for a second visit. And the contacts involved not only carefully framed verbal encounters but casual physical contact to determine how comfortable a prospect was in his own body. An arm slipped over a prospect's shoulder, a clasp on a prospect's lower back, a handshake held longer than necessary. After a second and sometimes even a third more clandestine visit, at the end of rush week twenty five prospects were invited to pledge. Most accepted gratefully, but if the class wasn't filled, Delta Iota Kappa did not move to a second round of invitations. The deficit might be made up the following year. James Patrick Winthrop (BS '82) was one of those filling out the questionnaire in the spring of 1978. At his well-regarded high school he had been a forward on the basketball team. He was president of the Senior Class and Senior Class Orator. He was fifth academically. At the country club he was considered the best tennis player in his age group and an outstanding swimmer. And he was gay, a fact he was terrified someone might discover. He was certain he would be disinherited, if his family found out. As he approached his collegiate experience, he just knew he'd be ostracized, if he did anything even to hint that he was queer. Although he had grown increasingly uncomfortable about his protestant denomination's teachings about homosexuality, he still adhered to the party line. A handsome, blue-eyed, blond hunk, he was the target of every girl he knew; and he played the game by dating some girl at every opportunity and engaging in heavy, if unfulfilling smooching. So he was as far back into the closet as anyone could go. He was not, however, inexperienced. He had been seduced when he was fourteen by his best friend, William Hudson. Like most gay early adolescents, James was aware of having a strong interest in other males, but was unaware that this interest was not shared by everyone. Bill Hudson was almost a year older than James, recognized James' proclivities, and unashamedly introduced his friend to the joys of male sex. They got together as often as they could for the next five years. While Bill was headed to the State University, James was drawn to Sanderson. The idea of an isolated academic community appealed to him, and the school had one of the best reputations outside the Ivy League. Also, since the construction of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, it was within an hour or two's drive of Virginia Beach, Norfolk, and even Williamsburg. James was hesitant to list Bill as "the friend who likes you best" on the DIKa questionnaire; but he did, because he was cautioned to be completely honest in filling it out. Still, he asked his friend to be sure not to say anything to suggest they were in any way intimate. Of course, he had no idea that the other people he named on the questionnaire might inadvertently reveal more about his sexual nature than William Hudson would. The teacher that liked James the most was gay and had had a hard-on for James since he first laid eyes on him. The teacher that James liked the least was a homophobe who suspected that over-achieving adolescents were mostly queer. James' high school achievements place him near the top of the Delta Iota Kappa list from the beginning. His questionnaire responses keep him there. His answer to the confidentiality question was sufficiently ambiguous to inspire confidence. The psychologists' evaluations suggested that his teachers and peers all found him stable and personable, but that his sexual attitudes were "dissimulated." Very interesting. At nine o'clock promptly the Monday morning of Rush Week the first twenty-five freshmen arrived at the DIKa House for a two-and-a-half hour session with the seventy-five actives. James was among them. Everyone wore name tags but behaved as if they didn't. Three actives, designated as inquisitors, have been assigned to concentrate on each prospective, but the prospectives are introduced around as if it's all random. "Hello," James' first inquisitor introduced himself, "I'm Jerry Squires." "James Winthrop," James extended his hand and found it engulfed by both of Jerry's. "Good to meet you Jim. I think I remember reading your essay." Jerry finally let go of James' hand. He'd passed the first handshake test. "What did you do during the summer?" "Worked as a lifeguard at the country club. It was a pretty neat job." "Oh? Got to scope out all the gals, did you?" "Yeah, but the rules were we couldn't make dates while on duty." "Too bad. You could mess around with the other lifeguards though." "Only one guy on duty at a time. Like I said, it was fun, though." James felt a hand brush his ass. "Oh, sorry," the offender said. "No problem," James laughed. "Room's pretty crowded, isn't it?" "I'm Reese Jacobs." "James Winthrop. Good to meet you, Reese." Reese passed on to brush against his next victim. James turned back to Jerry. "You have a good summer?" he asked. "Back home, chasing twat," Jerry replied. "You got some steady snatch?" "I just play the field. No need to choose just one." James and Jerry chatted on, apparently about nothing in particular, but after James had been casually introduced to eight or nine other brothers, Jerry had formed an important opinion. James was passed on to his second interrogator. "Oh, Jim," Jerry said, "here's somebody you'd like to talk to. Brad Johansen, meet Jim Winthrop." James had always hated to be called "Jim," but this was Rush Week after all. "Hi, Brad," he said. Again the handshake lasted longer than usual, but James thought that must just be the way it was with frats. "Hey," Brad responded. " I think I remember reading something about, eh...your best friend. Let's see. Uh...now I remember. Bill Hudson, wasn't it?" "Sure," James said. "I wish he'd have come to Sanderson, but no such luck" "Sounds like an interesting guy. What's he really like?" "Oh, I dunno. We met when we were learning to play tennis. Hit it off. Been buddies ever since." "He as good looking as you?" "You think I'm `good looking?' Well, I'm not one to say. If you ever see us together, you can decide." The session was almost over. James had shaken hands with so many guys his hand was sore. "Hi. I haven't met you, have I? I'm Dick Partridge." "James. James Winthrop," James responds. "You an only child, Jim?" "Nah. I've got a kid sister. She's four years younger than me. My folks didn't want two kids in college at the same time." "So she's the favorite?" "Not really. She's the girl. I'm supposed to be the big man. No competition." "So tell me about your parents." A gong sounded at eleven-thirty on the dot. The prospectives troop out, go to the University Common for lunch, and on to their afternoon session at one. For James that's Sigma Alpha Epsilon, a national fraternity founded at the University of Alabama way back in the middle of the Nineteenth Century. James' father was an SAE. His great grandfather—or was it his great-great?—was one of three founders of the fraternity. The brothers practically drooled over him. He was the ultimate legacy. But the whole thing turned James off. He didn't really want to do what was always expected of him. He was polite and courteous, but distant. Back at the dorm where the prospectives were being housed, there was much chat about the events of the day. James was approached by Max Paxton, a big guy, who said, "You were at both of the meetings I was at. "I aint ever going back to that Delta Iota. Some fucker practically groped me. And one of the guys I was talking to said there'd been a queer in his high school class. Asked me if we had any in our school. Told him if we'd had one, we'd have beat the shit out of him. "I aint worried. I can pledge wherever I decide. I'm on a fucking football scholarship." James also chatted with George Blaylock, the kid that was rooming with him. George was short, about 5'8", black hair and eyes and even at eighteen a heavy "five-o'clock shadow." He had rugged, regular features, however, with black hair; and tufts of chest fuzz peeked over his shirt collar, giving him masculine good looks that made him very popular with the girls. He was from New England, and when he spoke every word that ended in "a" had an "r" attached. "I don't know if I'll get invited back to DIKa or not," George opined. "My dad'll be disappointed if I don't get a bid. He was Delta Iota Kappa, but they don't give a shit about legacies. "Funny. Dad's always been proud to have been DIKa, but he's never said anything else about it." "Well, frats are secret societies." James said. "He probably wants you to find out for yourself. "I don't know. I guess I can take `em or leave `em." "...and I think we oughta take another look at him." The brothers are reviewing the Delta Iota Kappa prospects. The second visit invitations must be in the boys' boxes by eight in the morning. "That brings us to Paxton, Max," the rush chairman says. "Not no, but hell no. He may goanna be our star fullback, but he's not for us," one of his three interrogators says. There's a chorus of agreement. Toward the end of the list is Winthrop, James. "Hell of a nice guy," Jerry Squires says. "He's got everything we're looking for." Brad Johansen agrees, as does Dick Partridge. "Well, the shrinks said his sexual attitudes are `dissimulated,' whatever that means," the rush chairman says. "Anybody get any inclinations?" A voice from the rear of the room says, "Well, he sure don't seem to mind being touched." There's general laughter. "All his answers were pretty non-committal, that is to say `asexual.' Like he wasn't interested in sex at all," Johansen volunteers. "Well, he's definitely on the call back list, but this time let's concentrate on his sexual attitudes," the chairman declares. "We don't want a Paxton in disguise." The next morning James finds two invitations for a second visit in his box. He decides to accept DIKa's. Max Paxton's box is empty. He didn't score with SAE either. By Wednesday noon, the DIKa prospective list had been reduced to thirty-six guys that had been invited for a return visit. From those, the twenty-five pledges would be chosen. That afternoon eighteen freshmen, James among them, were circulating among the actives. Unlike at the earlier gathering, George Dickel Tennessee Sour Mash was on offer, and the prospectives were encouraged to partake. An earlier brother had claimed a relationship with the original whiskey maker, so Dickel was always preferred over Jack Daniels, the more famous Tennessee distiller. "I've just had beer before," James admitted. "I was at a boarding school," Marvin Bannister answered. "We got into all sorta stuff. I even had a gay roommate. How'd you feel about that?" "Never thought about it," James replied. "I guess I'd have to say I don't care what anybody else does as long as they don't try to make me do something I don't wanna do." `That's what he said! What more do you guys want?" Bannister later argued. "I say `give him a bid.'" "I think I know what his problem is." It's Beauregard Bouvier who spoke. Beau is openly gay, that is openly gay within the frat. To the public all DIKas are super macho men. "I think he's gay. Probably scared shitless his family and friends will find out. Has set up an elaborate front to protect his secret. Just reacts automatically. "Let's invite him to spend the night. I'll find out for sure what the deal is" So it's agreed. Beau sought James out just before he headed off to dinner. Now Beau is from Charleston, and he speaks in that upper-class Southern accent that you hear in a swath from Charleston, through Athens, Georgia and Tuscaloosa, Alabama, ending around Oxford, Mississippi. It sounds like the speaker has a mouthful of cotton candy. Jimmy Carter is close, but doesn't quite have it. "James," he began, "you may not remember me. (Jhaemes, yew mhay nhot ru-mam-bah mee), but I'm a DIKa..." "Oh, I'd certainly remember you," James responds. "Who could forget the accent?" he thought. "We'd like you to come to dinner and stay overnight at the fraternity." "Well, I'd be honored." "Come on, then. You don't have to bother telling anybody. If they ask, just say you had to get away to think for a spell." The Delta Iota Kappa House is an oversized three and a half storey building in Georgian style similar to the dormitories that line the Charles River at Harvard. The first floor contains a beautifully-appointed common room, a game room, dining hall, kitchen, and a single room for each of the officers. The upper floors contain two man suites arranged along a hall that runs the length of the building. There is a common bath in the middle. When James and Beau arrived, he was offered more Tennessee Sour Mash before the brothers went in for dinner. James was reintroduced and welcomed, and after dinner there was more small talk in the common room. Finally, Beau suggested that that two of them go upstairs. An unoccupied room on the third floor has been prepared for them. Twin beds. Towels and wash cloths all laid out. "You need a shower?" Beau asked, as he casually stripped. "I could use one," James answered. "Didn't get to take one this morning." "Come on, then," Beau said. James hesitantly started to undress. "We don't worry about being bare-assed up here. Everybody's seen a dick before," Beau continued. They walked down the hall to the bath, James taking in every inch of Beau's perfectly formed body and praying that he doesn't sprout a hard-on. They choose showers opposite each other and Beau soaps his dick and balls with particular fondness. His tool grows to its full size and he says, "I always get a hard-on in the shower." Then he adds, "I see you do too." "Yeah. Sometimes." When they had returned to the room, Beau made no move to dress. James sensed that this was some sort of test, and was beginning to think that SAE might have been the right choice after all. Beau fondled his dick and said, "You know, James, you're one good looking son-of-a-bitch. I could eat you right now." James did not reply verbally. His dick said all that was necessary to be said. "Your friend—Bill Hudson, is it?—he and you get it on I'll bet." Beau crossed the few feet that separated them and took James' throbbing tool in his palm. "It's all right, Jim Boy, DIKa isn't D-I-K for nothing." Beau's lips passionately engulfed James, and James moaned in appreciation. He hadn't touched himself all week, and he spurted a huge load down Beau's throat in no time at all. The first load of several. Yes, there were two single beds, but they only used one. James had never slept with another guy before, and it was heavenly. When they awoke, they sucked each other off one more time before heading to breakfast. So James received one of the twenty-five coveted bids to pledge Delta Iota Kappa. He moved into the DIKa House the next day, and was assigned to room with and to be mentored by Jerry Squires. George Blaylock, the legacy, also pledged. Copyright 2012 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved. If you enjoyed this first chapter of DELTA IOTA KAPPA, you might check out these othr stories by the same author: UNDER BISEXUAL ADULT YOUTH/FANTASY Age of Wantonness (July 16, '12)) (In 2042, anybody can fuck around with anybody, no holds barred, but there are still evangelicals around) UNDER GAY ENCOUNTERS: John's Hitchhiking Adventure (Aug 11, '11) (A teenager tells about hitching through the Southeastern US) A Thanksgiving Trip (Aug 16, '11) (John's brother has a hitchhiking adventure of his own) College Boy (Aug 21, '11) (A landscape crew chief describes his encounter with a gay college boy) A French Seaman (Sep 23, '11) (A gay encounter on the waterfront) UNDER GAY ADULT YOUTH: Willie's First Times (Sep 10, '11) (A teenager and his mother visit relatives, who teach the boy about man sex) Teenaged Hustler (Jan 3, '12) (A hustler finds good fortune and a wealthy mentor) UNDER GAY BEGINNINGS Jake (Oct 3, '11) (A high school graduate and tornado victim is befriended by a construction worker) UNDER BISEXUAL ADULT FRIENDS It Seemed Natural (Oct 6, '11) (A short story in which two guys perform for a promiscous chick) UNDER BISEXUAL ADULT YOUTH The Society of Sextus (Oct 8, '11) (A sex club for teens is founded by a famous gynecologist) UNDER GAY MILITARY Before "Don't ask, don't tell" (Apr 6, '12) (A gay naval officer's life in the mid twentieth century)