Sam a 22 yo, wearing tighty whities, is a freshman. Jason, Kyle, and Kevin approach him for a party and he joins. Wyatt is another receiver of punishment. With Timmy falling for it and getting placed as caretaker of golden boy Sam.
Wyatt is into it. Sam has no clue but will be too high to resist. They’ll be kept as urnials in atomic wedgied and such in the so called Toilet League
Sam trudged through the crowded university quad, his glasses fogging slightly from the chilly autumn air. At 22, he felt a bit out of place as a freshman, but a year or three off after high school to work at the local comic book store had set him apart from his peers. His backpack, brimming with textbooks and graphic novels, hung heavily on his shoulders. A solitary figure amidst a sea of youthful chatter, Sam's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, mostly about the latest coding assignment due the next day.
Entering the grand library, he took a deep breath, the scent of aged paper and scholarly ambition a comforting balm to his nerdy soul. He wound his way through the labyrinthine shelves, finally settling at a secluded table.
His eyes darted around the room, noticing the diverse faces buried in their studies. It was then he spotted Jason, the president of the notorious TKE frat, lounging nearby with his entourage of jocks. Sam felt a pang of envy; Jason's carefree demeanor and the camaraderie of his frat brothers were worlds apart from his own solitary existence.
After an hour of study, Sam stretched his arms above his head. Little did he know he revealed his secret. He was a tighty whitie enjoyer. He never switched to boxers or understood the true meaning of having his balls free. As Sam stretched, his t-shirt revealed the white cotton and got the attention of someone nearby. Jason.
He had always wished he could be one of them, to share in their laughter and bask in their acceptance. Little did he know that today, fate would give him a twisted taste of that desire. As he packed up his books, ready to leave the library, he felt a firm tap on his shoulder.
"Hey, aren't you in my econ class?" a deep voice rumbled. Sam's heart skipped a beat. It was Jason. The frat president's gaze bore into him, curiosity etched across his face. Sam nodded, his voice a squeak as he turned to face his unanticipated interlocutor.
"Sam, right?" Jason's smile was friendly, if a tad patronizing. Sam felt his cheeks burn as he confirmed his name, his eyes flicking to the frat's insignia emblazoned on Jason's sweatshirt.
"Yeah, I've seen you around," Sam replied, trying to sound casual. "How's the economics assignment treating you?"
Jason's eyes lit up, the corners crinkling with amusement. "It's a breeze, man. Nothing like a little market analysis to get the old noggin' going. But enough about that," he slapped Sam on the back, nearly sending him tumbling over his chair. "You should come to our frat party tonight. It's going to be epic!"
Sam's heart raced at the invitation. A party with the TKEs? That was the stuff of legend. "I-I'd love to," he stuttered, trying to maintain composure.
"Great! Feel free to come early and pregame with us. Tonight's party is called 'Girls Drool, Guys Rule.' It's going to be wild!" Jason's grin was infectious, and despite the frat's reputation for hazing and debauchery, Sam couldn't resist the allure of belonging.
"Thanks, I'll definitely try to make it." Sam's stomach churned with excitement and a hint of apprehension. The idea of being accepted into the frat's inner circle was tantalizing, especially if it meant getting to know the kind of guys who could pull off such a legendary party.
The evening rolled around, and after a quick pit stop at his dorm to change into something slightly less "freshman" and slightly more "cool," Sam made his way to the sprawling TKE house.
As he approached the porch, a few frat bros lounged on the porch, their eyes assessing him as he approached. He felt like a moth drawn to a flame, both terrified and exhilarated by the prospect of what was to come.
One of the guys, Kevin, sauntered over, a smug smile on his face. "You must be Sam! I think Jason talked to you at the library, right?”
Sam nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, he said I should come by."
"Cool," Kevin said, his tone laced with a hint of challenge. "Kyle, grab Sam a beer, will ya?" He gestured to a red-haired frat bro standing nearby, who raised an eyebrow before smirking and disappearing into the house.
Kyle emerged moments later with a red plastic cup filled with a golden liquid that sloshed around with every step he took. He extended it to Sam with a grin. "Welcome to the party, man. You're going to fit in just fine."
Sam took the cup with trembling hands. He took a tentative sip, the bitterness of the beer hitting his tastebuds. It had been a while since he last drank, and he felt a sudden kinship with the nervousness that bubbled in his gut.
"Cheers, Sam," Kyle said, clinking his cup against Sam's. "My name is Kyle. Jason said you caught his eye and would be a great addition to tonights party."
Sam swallowed hard, his throat tight. "Thanks, I'm looking forward to it," he managed to murmur. The beer was already doing its work, loosening his inhibitions.
The guys chatted with Sam freely, their banter filled with inside jokes and frat lingo that he pretended to understand. The house was a chaotic to sya the least. With pledges scurrying about, setting up for the festivities. It was still only 6:00 pm, and the party wouldn't really start to kick off until 10:00 pm.
Sam felt a peculiar comfort in the unfamiliar environment, his shyness slowly melting away with each sip of the beer. The house was a testament to frat life: posters of scantily clad models adorned the walls, the floor sticky with a mysterious substance, and a faint dankness filled the air.
The frat brothers treated him like one of their own, sharing stories of past parties and their escapades around the university. It was, blissful. Sam was so happy to accept the invite tonight. Kevin turned to Sam and said, “Hey why dont we go hangout inside for a min. I know Jason wanted to see you too! We cant hog you all night.”
They headed inside the living room, where there were some open couches and other frat bros ghat Sam didnt recognize. This stale dankness still hit Sam’s nose… the sweet scent of cheap beer mixed with the musky odor of stale sweat and the faint hint of something else... something that tickled the back of Sam's throat.
Jason was there, lounging on a couch that looked like it had seen better days, surrounded by a sea of frat brothers. He waved Sam over, patting the cushion next to him. "Hey Sam! Glad you made it!," he said with a wink. "Come sit down, and have a bowl with me."
Jason was high, enjoying a freshly packed bowl with his brithers. The president of the frat, just invited Sam to sit with him and share a bowl. Sam blushed, “Hell yea!”
Jason took a deep drag and passed it to Sam. Sam hit the bowl, held the smoke in and released it shortly. Sam started coughing, a lot. Jason laughed, “I remember my first time smoking weed.”
The other brothers nearby just chuckled. Sam’s coughing fit just would not stop. He grabbed his beer and chugged the rest of it, and that seemed to help. Jason, seeing he had an empty beer quickly picked up a random bell off the table.
Jason quickly rung it, and nearly running in and tripping, a pledge wearing nothing but ztighty Whities came into the living room, and sat on his knees in front of Jason. Sam, seeing this tighty whitie clad pledge, immediately felt something stir in his own briefs.
“Timmy, my man. My friend Sam here is out of a beer. Go fetch one for him and one of our special brownies.” Jason commanded. Timmy, nodded silently, and stood up. He turned and looked st Sam, almost with a look of pity. And left the room.
Sam, was confused. He felt himself get a little hard. See Sam had always been one thing, a tighty whitie wearer. He never tthiught anything of it, but to have this random pledge be put in this place… forced to wear these tighty whities…
“Sam! So where did you grow up? Whats your story?” Jason asked Sam while glancing him up and down quickly.
Sam realized he had a boner, and whickly crossed his arms in a way to hide it. He didnt reakize that Kyke and Kevin turned and snickered at eachother. “Oh, I’m form a dmal town in Wisconsin, you probably never heard of it….”
Before he could finish his thought, he was interupted by a white flash of cotton, as Timmy stood before him with a new Yellow Solo Cup, and a yellow plate. The plate held a singular brownie.
"Thanks, Timmy," Sam murmured, taking the plate and eyeing the brownie. It looked like a regular dessert, not something that could make him trip out. "Is this...uh...special?" he asked, hoping to gauge if he should eat it.
"Oh, it's just a little something extra to kick off the party," Jason said with a knowing wink. "Don't worry, it won't bite. Unless you want it to," he added with a chuckle, nudging Sam with his elbow. The other brothers laughed, their eyes gleaming with mischief.
Sam took a deep breath, his curiosity piqued. He picked up the brownie and took a bite. It was moist and chewy, with a faint hint of something herbal that made his mouth water. The taste grew stronger as he chewed, and he swallowed the mouthful with a gulp of beer.
Sam finished off the brownie, and Jason picked up his cup. Sam picked his up and cheersed with Jason. “To new friends!”
The Frat bros cheered and started chugging their beers. As the cheering died down, Jason told Sam “So listen, that edible will kick in, in about 45 minutes. We’re going to keep the pre-game going and play some drinking games.”
Sam confidently lied, “Great! I’m actually pretty good at beer pong.” Sam’s liquid courage was starting to show already, and with being high on top of it… He was going to be a mess.
The room they entered was dimly lit with one singular deature. A large table with TKE painted across and all the Frat Bro’s signatures. The cups were brought out and two pledges struggled to bring in the keg and get it set up. Jason turned to another older frat bro and said “We’re going to need at least two more jegs. Go pick some up.” Jason handed some cash to the Frat Bro and away he went.
As President, Jason knew how to throw a good party. Sam was impressed by his command. Just as he thought about it, he caught the glimpse of Timmy. Who had that same look of pity. Sam wondered what his problem was.
“Sam! Youve played before right?” Kyle asks Sam in a friendly manner.
Sam reassured, “Yea ive played!”
Sam has not played beer ping. His only jnowledge came from movies about college that he basically used as research before attending.
“Great! We actually have a couple house rules to. Just wanted to make sure you're chill with them.” Kevin chimed in.
“First, fraternity brothers cannot play with non-brothers. Luckily I think Wyatt is here somewhere. We can have him be your partner.”
Jason pointed at a pledge, “Hey pledge, go have Wyatt come in here.”
The pledge basically bowed and left the room. Sam’s dick twinged. It must just be the weed, he thought.
“Second, non-brothers must play by Miami-rules.”
“Wait, what do you mean by Miami?” Sam interrupted.
With a slight twing, Kevin nearly dropped the facade. “Oh! If you lose a round, you lose a piece of clothes intil youre left in your underwear! Don't worry you wont have to take your shoes and socks off. You'll need them!”
“Third, if you lose under Miami-rules you’ve gotta head downstairs for the Toilet League.”
Sam nodded. He knew that loser brackets were always referred to as toilet bowls or leagues. Even Sam has played fantasy football once or twice at least.
The pledge returned with a drunken dude. He looked like he’d be cool with playing by any rules. Sam took him in. Short curly brown hair, a twinkish looking guy, and the smell of cheap whiskey on his breath.
"Sam, this is Wyatt. He's cool, and he’s a non-brother. So he will be playing with you." Kevin said, with a smug smile.
Sam looked at the tipsy guy with the same bewilderment. He was expecting a handshake at best, but to his surprise, Wyatt lunged in for a bro hug. The handshake was firm but the hug was tight, and Sam felt a hand sneak around his back and squeeze his ass firmly.
He flinched and his heart skipped a beat. The room grew eerily quiet for a moment, the laughter from the other frat bros seemingly swallowed by the thick tension that had just descended upon them.
Kevin and Jason exchanged glances, their smirks widening as they noticed Sam's reaction. "Looks like someone's already enjoying the party," Kevin said with a wink.
“Wyatt, you know the rules already right?” Kevin asked.
“Yea!!!! You bet. Me and golden boy here consent to the rules. Right Sam?” Wyatt was enthusiastic and pointed to the yellow cup Sam had for his beer.
“Great. Alright bros, Kyle and I are going to take you guys on.” Kevin smirked. Little did Sam know this game was not going to be easy to win.
The games begin. Sam got first shot with Wyatt and clearly missed. Wyatt also missed. Sam was a bit embarassed… little did he know what was to come.
“Alright bros! Lose your shirts!” Kyle shouted in victory. The first match was - no contest. Sam had begun to feel the brownie hit. It helped calm him down but it also blocked that little voice in his head.
_______
"Come on, Sammy boy, you can't let Kyle win that easy!" Jason jeered, his grin as wide as the frat house doorway.
Sam blinked, the room spinning slightly from the potent brownie he had consumed. His cheeks flushed, and he chuckled nervously, he took his shirt off. As he turned to Wyatt, he noticed sormthing peculiar. Wyatt also was wearing briefs.
Wyatt noticed Sam’s glance, “Hey! Same brand! And playfully tugged the back of Sam’s fruit of the loom tighty whities, waistband.
Sam got hard. Harder than he thought he got. This brownie was definitely potent. “Hands off Wyatt,” Jason calmy said.
Wyatt jumped back. Sam’s dick twinged.
“Next game bros!” Kevin said before taking a drink of beer. The pledges got done filling the red solos with beer. Timmy came and grabbed Sam’s Yellow beer and filed it uo for him.
“Cheers boys!” The frat intitated another cheer. Sam drank, the whole frat drank.
Just like that, the next game done. Jason hadnt realized, or was too stoned to realize. But he only had “two lives” under Miami rules. He wire a t-shirt which was discarded and pair of jeans. As the last two cups remained, Kevin sunk his shot, Kyle got the other.
“Alright boys! Lose the pants.” Kyle called out the next article lost form Miami-rules. Whatt quickly removed his sweats to reveal his tighty whities.
Sam struggled. A little too high, a little too drunk. Timmy came over and helped him take his pants off, folded them then took them for safe keeping.
Sam and Wyatt stood there in nothing but tighty whities while the rest if the guys were fully clothed. Sam’s dick did not stop being hard. He barely noticed it until Wyatt turns to him and looked. “Well I’m happy the brownie is starting to kick in!”
Jason immediately lost his cool. “Wyatt, knees now. Wyatt immediately dropped to his knees where he stood facing Sam. Jason approached form behind Wyatt. “I just wish they would’ve told me my first time. I would’ve consented fully!”
Just like that Jason grabbed Wyatt by his tighty whities. He pulled for the cieling, and ripped them until the waistband was secured to Wyatt’s forehead. “Wyatt, shut up. No need to freak out Sam here.”
Wyatt’s cheeks went redder than a stop sign, but his dick was harder than ever. The room burst into laughter as Jason began to swirl him around the room like a ragdoll. Sam watched, his own cock straining against the fabric.
