Date: Sat, 24 Jul 1999 17:23:07 EDT
From: EBayBarber@aol.com
Subject: TKE, Chapter 14

Chapter 14:  Kidnapped

And so another semester was drawing to an end.  It was Friday night of the
last weekend before the last week before final exams started (finals, for
some reason, always started on a Saturday.  That Friday was also my birthday.

I'd made it through dinner without being attacked.  Our fraternity had a
tradition of making junior's birthdays special.  We had taken Ford, for
instance, and tied his hands behind his back, then tied him to one of the
columns on the front porch of a sorority, one of whose sisters he was dating
at the time.  And no, we hadn't stripped him naked.  We had, however, left
him in just his jock strap.  And just before we left, someone took a handful
of horse liniment and rubbed it all over his cock and balls.  Just to make
sure, he also took some and shoved it up Ford's ass.  In case you don't know,
horse liniment on your balls is just like Ben Gay, only ten times worse.

Ford had started screaming, after we left.  The sisters had taken care of
him, with ice cold water from a garden hose.  Even so, he must have been
allergic to the liniment or something, his balls swelled up to a most
impressive size (I know, I've seen the pictures which the sorority sisters
took, after they cut him loose.  They kept his jock strap, though, as a
trophy of their victory over the evil fraternity brother.  Incidentally, it
wasn't ALL bad for Ford; he got dates with three of the sisters who were most
impressed with his body.

Anyway, I got up after dinner and went into the kitchen to bus my dishes.  I
planned to head up to my room, grab a jacket, and head out for a few hours.
If I made it past midnight I was safe; those were the rules.  Alas, it ws not
to be.

Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, Kurt, Vance, and Randy, of all
people, blocked my way.  And I'd seen Ford and Jeff sneaking up right behind
me when I was coming out of the kitchen.  I looked towards the back door of
the fraternity, but there was no escape there, either.  Rob and Blaine must
have snuck out the front door of the fraternity and around to the back; they
were blocking that way out (you haven't me Blaine yet; more about him later).
 So, whatever was planned for me was going to happen, like it or not.

I sensed that Ford and Jeff  had moved closer, then suddenly my arms were
grabbed from behind.  Ford and Jeff very both strong, so I wasn't going to
get lose.  Before I could say a thing, Kurt had produced a large cloth sack
of some kind and had thrown it over my head, pulling it down to almost my
waist.  So now I couldn't see, either.

I felt myself being lifted up.  I could have kicked out then, but with my
martial arts training I could have accidentally really hurt someone, since I
could not see what I was doing.  So I let myself go limp.  Besides, I was
intrigued to see what they were going to do with-or to-me.

Someone knelt in front of me and pulled a loop of rope over one ankle.  He
proceeded to wrap it around my other ankle, then worked his way up my legs,
binding my shins, knees, and finally my calves securely before tying off the
rope.  At the same time I felt my wrists being held together, then felt two
clicks as handcuffs were secured around my wrists.  Whoever did it knew what
he was doing; I felt him double-locking the cuffs so I wouldn't hurt myself.

Two guys got hold of my ankles and lifted, as others grabbed me by the waist
and shoulders.  Thus was I manhandled out the back door of the fraternity and
down the steps to the parking lot.  I heard someone fumble with keys, then
felt myself being lifted into the back of a van.  I guessed it was Rob's;
he'd driven up to school in his fathers van so he could take his clothes and
other stuff home for the summer.  At least they'd been nice enough to put a
mattress down on the cold, hard floor of the van.  I heard the van doors
close, then bounced around a little as we backed out of the space, then
headed out of the parking lot and down the street.  I was held in place by at
least four or five sets of hands, so I knew most everyone had come with us.

Somebody-Kurt I thought, by his shape-sat on my chest.  This was confirmed
when he asked, "Can you breathe, Ian?" to which I replied, "Fuck you.  But
thank you for asking."  That got some laughs, and I confirmed that Blair and
Vance were with me.

Someone else, a bit heavier (Ford?) sat on my thighs.  I felt someone working
at my belt, and immediately sprung a boner.  He had some trouble with the
buttons of my 501s, I guess he needed more practice.  Ford kind of got up,
still straddling me, and reached under himself to undo the knots of the rope
binding my legs.  He worked them down, then someone else took over and
unwound the rope.  He looped it around my ankles and held it in place.

Ford, or whoever had undone my jeans, started working them down my legs.
Then he pushed my underwear down.  It turned out to be Jeff; he took hold of
my cock and pulled it away from my belly and let it flop back as he said, "I
guess Ian is enjoying himself.  Let's see how he does later."  Someone else
shushed him; I guess they didn't want to give away whatever surprises they
had in store for me.

I felt Jeff tugging on my balls, working them out from between my legs, then
pulling them away from my body.  My balls were stretched way down in my sac,
then I felt a band of leather-a ball stretcher-being snapped into place.  It
was the fancy kind with a loop of leather for a ball separator, which Jeff
soon snapped in place.  For added measure, he must have tied a piece of
leather or string to the ball separator, whoever it was soon gave a couple of
experimental yanks-to which I yelped in response.  I heard someone moving
around, then I heard Jeff's voice whispering in my ear through the sack
covering my head, "I know you like your balls played with.  Since it's your
birthday, I'm going to take REAL good care of them."  Rather than yanking on
them, he pulled slowly on the leather, stretching my balls to their limit.  I
tried to ease the strain by raising my hips, but of course Ford's weight
prevented that.

The rope was undone from around my ankles, and my pants and underwear were
pulled off.  I heard Blaine say, "Hey, wait.  I have to get in there first."
I felt Ford getting off my thighs, then felt my ankles being lifted and
spread.  Kurt moved up on my chest to make room as my legs were pulled back,
almost like someone was going to fuck me.

I was close.  Blaine said, "I have to grease this first."  After a few
seconds I felt a dildo against my ass hole.  Never being one to refuse entry
to a guest when he comes a knocking, I relaxed my muscles.  By the feel of
it, Blaine was pushing a medium-to-large dildo, maybe ten or eleven inches
long, up my ass.  It's a bit larger than I was comfortable with, but I've had
bigger and had no trouble or pain accommodating the sex toy.  In fact, I gave
a little cry of pleasure when the van went over a bump and the head of the
dildo poked a most sensitive spot up there.

I felt soft fleecy cuffs being fastened around my ankles, then felt the cuffs
being attached to a spreader bar, maybe a foot or fifteen inches long.  Then
they started working on my upper body.  Frank got back on my lower legs, and
Kurt slid down 'til he was sitting on my cock.  Just for fun, he started
wiggling his ass.  THAT felt great!

Kurt, I guess it was, pushed the sack covering my head and chest up my body,
being careful not to let me see anything.  When just my head and neck were
still covered, I felt soft hands-they felt like Vance's-reach under the sack
and put a fleece-lined blindfold over my eyes.  He held it in place as the
sack was pulled off my head.  Someone lifted my head as the blindfold was
strapped behind my head.  It was on of the fancy kinds, it even had a strap
running over my head so the blindfold couldn't slip down.

Kurt, I guess it was, started working my shirt up my chest and over my head.
He slid it down my arms as best he could.  Strong arms sat me up and held me
as the handcuffs were removed, the shirt was slid off my arms, and the cuffs
were put back on.  I was slowly laid back down flat.

Two hands started working on my tits, rubbing and pulling on them 'til they
perked right up.  I gave a cry of pain as a tit clamp was snapped onto one of
them.  A few seconds later I felt more pain as my other tit was clamped.
Someone started tugging on the chain connecting the clamps, then nicely
stopped when I said, "Ouch, that hurts."

I heard a match being lit, then smelled the sweet pungent odor of fine dope.
I should know it was good stuff; I supplied everyone in the house who smoked.
 Someone held the joint to my lips.  I inhaled, let it out, then inhaled
again and this time held my breath.  They must have had two joints going,
because one was shoved in my mouth before it could have made the rounds of
everybody.

After a few hits, Vance's voice asked, "Are you thirsty?"  When I said I was,
I felt him lift my head and hold a can to my lips.  Cool beer wet my throat
made dry by the smoke.  How thoughtful they all were being!  What a nice
birthday so far!  I heard other cans being opened and the sound of beer being
guzzled as I finished the can Vance kept holding and letting me drink.

I heard a voice-Randy's-calling from the front of the van.  "Hey," he whined.
 "Send some of that dope up here."  Then Rob called out, "None for me, now;
I'm driving."  We always were a safe fraternity.

After a few minutes of rest, I heard another match being lit, and soon yet
another joint was making the rounds.  That's the way we killed maybe the
better part of an hour more of driving.  Joints were passed around and beer
was drunk.  Vance held two more cans of beer to my lips during the trip, and
even wiped off my face and neck whenever we went over a bump and some of the
beer spilled.  In between, someone occasionally tugged on the chain
connecting my tit clamps, or wiggled one of the clamps to make sure it was
still secure.  Jeff, I would guess, occasionally tugged on my ball stretcher,
or even squeezed my balls directly.  Blaine-it was apparently his dildo-would
wiggled it around, or hammer the bottom to make sure it stayed up my butt.
It did, of course.

By now I'd confirmed that all seven brothers who'd been blocking my escape
path were in the van with me.  Rob was up front, driving, and Randy was next
to him.  In back were Vance, my fraternity "little brother" who had a crush
on me; Kurt the Aryan, Ford the jock stud, Blaine, and donkey-dicked Jeff.
In case you're just joining the story, I should introduce them to you.  And
I'd better do it now, before I get too stoned.  Brother Blaine is new to
everyone (Rob you've met in "Rob Gets Raz'd), so let me describe him first,
and in the most detail.

Blaine looked part Slavic and part Asian of some kind.  His skin was dark,
like an Asian.  His hair was black and straight and he had a neatly-trimmed
goatee.  His eyes were round and green, like a European's.  He had some hair
on his chest, and a treasure trail leading down to a magnificent 8" uncut
cock and equally-large balls which were naturally pretty smooth.  His ass
likewise was smooth-God, I LOVE Asians!  Blaine's sport was gymnastics, so
his arms and legs were pretty massive, but not grotesque like he'd been on
steroids (and besides, steroids make your cock and balls shrink.  No way
Blaine would let THAT happen.  He was darned proud of his equipment).

The most interesting thing about Blaine from MY point of view was that he
swung both ways.  He was the FIRST senior brother I'd ever made it with.  I'd
been at a Brad party when I recognized him laying on his back in a sling.
His ass was pretty well stuffed at the time with 10" of man-meat, but his
mouth was empty.  "Hey, Ian," he yelled at me, "Get that lovely cock and
balls of yours over here!"  When a more-senior brother gives you an order
like that, you obey!  After fucking his mouth at that party, we'd made it a
half dozen times since.  He was a TOTAL bottom when it came to men  (One of
his ex-girlfriends told me he was a total bottom when it came to women also).
 Since I don't like fucking that much, our sexual interests didn't overlap
that much, so we didn't have sex as often as he'd have liked.

Rob was a sophomore, a year younger than me.  He was also shorter, maybe
5'8", but had a much better build than I think I do.  He'd wrestled in high
school, so he had great arms and muscular legs.  He had a cute cock and a
tight bubble butt.  He had a mop of brown hair on his head, and virtually no
facial hair, even when he didn't shave.  Rob's chest had but a few hairs
round his tits.  His belly was moderately hairy, and he had a treasure trail
leading down to his pubes.  A tuft of hair spread out a couple of inches
above his moderately-hair ass hole.  I know so much about his hair because
I'd shaved it off completely early in the semester, when he'd really lost a
game of strip poker.  When last I'd seem him naked, his cock, balls, and ass
looked naturally hair, although his pubes looked trimmed.  I'd call Rob
"straight" but adventurous.

Randy looked Aryan with his blond hair and blue eyes.  He was maybe 5'10,
170, well built but not great.  Like I said earlier, Randy had the most
fuckable ass I'd ever seen.  Like many blondes, Randy was not very hairy,
just a small patch between his cute, pointy tits, and a small bush
surrounding an unremarkable cut cock and small balls.  Randy was the really
straight guy of the bunch in the van, although he, too, didn't mind a blow
job from a guy.  And of course he'd paid off when he lost at Strip Wales
Tales.  Actually, he'd lost twice, giving us blow jobs the first time and
letting us fuck him the second.  But he didn't enjoy it, and probably would
not have played if he hadn't been really stoned.

Ford was the epitome of a jock, even in our fraternity house, the "jock
house" on campus. Ford was around 6' tall, with hair hanging just over his
collar, and a neat goatee.  A vee-shaped chest with had just a patch of hair
between his tits.  Ford was cut, maybe 6" hard, with nice balls (even nicer
when they were hairless, which they often were when I was around).  Ford
wasn't gay, he just liked getting his cock sucked, even if it meant he had to
get his ass fucked in return (he thought asses were just for shitting, so if
someone wanted to use his for something else, that was HIS business).

Jeff was tall and lanky.  He had a friendly face on top of a muscular body.
He had large tits and a moderately hairy chest, with a defined treasure trail
pointing towards his enormous cock.  Jeff was the among the best hung of
anyone in the fraternity house I'D done; his cock was seven inches soft and
maybe 10 inches hard.  It jutted out from a large thatch of pubic hair.  Jeff
was a junior; like me.  And he'd discovered a couple of weeks earlier that I
liked my balls played with, relatively hard.  And he liked playing with them
hard.  Hence the ball-stretcher and ball stretching (well, SAC stretching, if
you want to be exact.)

Vance was a freshman.  He was small, only 5'6" tall.  Vance was a gymnast, so
his arms were enormous.  His legs were gorgeous, too.  Vance was blond,
fair-skinned, and just about hairless-he looked twelve when he was dressed.
Vance's most prominent feature was his enormous balls.  Vance and I had made
it several times; he had a crush on me and I like young, hairless blonds.  So
it was a match made in heaven.  Jeff and Vance were roommates, the only gay
pair in the house that I knew of, although they were not fuck-buddies, not
being particularly each other's type.

Last in the van, but not least, was Kurt.  Kurt looked like a solider; he was
well built, walking tall, and angular.  Kurt's hair was buzz-cut, of course,
light brown to set off his dark, piercing brown eyes.  Hours of working out
and soldiering gave him arms and chest cut sharp enough to, well, to lick (as
I'd discovered earlier that year.  Kurt's cock and balls could have been a
model for an anatomy textbook; perfect mushroom head, two low-hanging balls,
plump and juicy looking and covered by light downy hair.  Kurt most
interesting feature was his tits; they were SO sensitive that Kurt could cum
if you played with them just right.

So that was the crew of seven horny jock fraternity brothers kidnapping me.
I was pretty sure, based on how long we'd been driving. that I knew where we
were going.  If so, there'd soon be EIGHT guys working on me, and I was in
for a hell of a birthday party.