Read Online Pledges: Gay Erotic Stories by Shane Allison - Free Book Online

instructions, both enduring additional whacks to their exposed asscheeks. Their masters laughed. Tom Berent, the football team’s quarterback and Alpha Epsilon’s biggest man on campus, drank it all in, arms crossed, a demigod among his fellow fraternity brothers.
    Focus, focus, Inner Lincoln urged. He couldn’t risk popping a bone and being found out.
Less than an hour later, Lincoln overheard Connor and Tom talking in the common room and decided that maybe he could.
    “Dude, the sorority pledges,” Connor said, his growl just above a whisper. “They’re putting them under sheets, just like a bunch of fucking ghosts. Holes cut out for the eyes and—this is the best part— mouths !”
    Tom’s reflection scratched his balls in the mirror through which Lincoln observed, just out of sight.
“Think about it! Ten hot mouths, all of them hungry for Alpha Epsilon dick.”
“Dude,” Tom sighed. “The only problem I see in this mathematical equation is…do you and I want to share?”
The two men high-fived. Lincoln choked down a dry swallow, his cock no longer able to be restrained from stiffening.
His smarts had gotten him this far, to an Ivy League school and all the way to Alpha Epsilon. Already, a plan was taking form, as ingenious as it was insane.
    Pledges in jockstraps. Upperclassmen in Halloween costumes, a bunch of proud peacocks wandering about Alpha Epsilon House, cops and firemen, soldiers with plastic rifles, one or more horse-hung superheroes.
    Connor went as a baseball player, no great stretch of the imagination there, though the uniform he wore in spring fit his body just as well in the fall. Tom made do with a hooded cassock and sandals that showcased his giant bare feet to perfection.
    Energy thrummed through the frat house. As the early October darkness descended, lights inside dimmed. Candles were lit. Candy and snacks filled big plastic bowls molded into spooky shapes. Jack-o’-lanterns with hideous grins were set out along paths, likely to be smashed later that evening as beer was consumed and behavior turned rowdy.
    Lincoln planned to misbehave, too, while the rest of his fellow pledges jumped and served at the whims of their masters. The masters would be too busy being drill sergeants and studs to notice that he was missing, he assumed. He stole a white bedsheet. Then, while the superheroes were flexing muscles and the cops were scratching their balls, Lincoln slipped upstairs. He emerged from one of the rooms in another costume, his disguise convincing.
    It convinced the sorority sister and the ten little sheeted ghosts who wandered up the path, giggling in anticipation of the big Alpha Epsilon Halloween party.
    “Hey,” Lincoln said, in a commanding voice. “Change of plans.”
The sorority sister in charge, a blonde with a harsh mouth dressed as a vampire, eyed him warily. “What kind of change?”
“No ladies in Alpha-Ep tonight. There’s been a snitch sighting. We can’t risk it, per Tom’s order.”
“Who are you?” the vampire demanded.
Lincoln calmly adjusted the helmet’s chinstrap, his identity safe, and indicated the numbers on his borrowed football jersey. “Number Eleven, that’s who. Sorry, ladies.”
A round of disappointed sighs and moans sounded through the sheets.
“Those are the breaks. Trick or treat,” said Lincoln.
The trick worked. Time to enjoy the treat.
    A warm autumn breeze rustled the colored leaves still clinging to their branches. The fragrance, one of his favorites, made Lincoln’s dick pulse harder. He loved Halloween and the smell of the fall leaves. He loved the rich, buttery aroma of a hot jockdude’s sweaty feet even more.
    Lincoln ditched the football uniform in the bushes and reentered Alpha Epsilon House in his jockstrap, blending seamlessly back into the crowd.
    Dudes and ladies laughed. Cheap keg beer flowed. With temporary Magic Marker hieroglyphs covering his flesh, Lincoln looked for the cassock and the double-breasted home white