Chapter Text
"All right maggots, you heard Pledge Master Mahealani. Get your fucking clothes off and show your brothers the sorry excuses you call your dicks!"
Jackson strutted up and down the line, smirk tugging at his mouth as he surveyed the reddened cheeks and discreet glances the pledges gave each other. It always stated like this, fresh meat who weren't sure if the orders were legit, but were too scared to risk their place at the prestigious Fraternity to question it.
They were still fully clothed and already Jackson could see a few of their faces pinking, see their eyes fall to the floor as they struggled with the desire to please and the fear of exposing themselves, the fear of being deemed "inadequate" by a group they desperately wanted to belong to.
Jackson revelled in it, felt excitement bloom in him as he saw the first of them begin to crack. He zeroed in on the guy, a good looking kid with tan skin and a crooked jaw. "Something wrong, Pledge?" Jackson asked, spitting the word out.
"No brother," the boy said, his hands still clasped behind his head in the position they had previously been ordered into. "I just..."
Jackson glanced up to Aiden, the other boy casting him a dark grin which served to only egg Jackson on. "You just what?" Jackson asked, brows raised in mock sympathy. "You just felt like you'd come out here, take some other guy's place and waste our time with your bullshit?"
Tan Kid's eyes widened, head shaking emphatically. "No, I just...I mean I didn't think we'd have to-"
Jackson rolled his eyes. "You don't think, Pledge. This is Hell Week, you do as we say, or you get the fuck out, understand? There's the door, if you're not up for it, then go ahead."
Tan Kid's mouth hung open, looked like he was still parsing Jackson's words. In a move lacking any and all subtlety, he tilted his head towards the boy next to him, a pale little thing with moles flecked across his jaw. "Stiles, you coming?"
Jackson zeroed in on the "Stiles" kid, eyes narrowed hawkishly while he waited for a response. He was practically tingling with anticipation when he saw Stiles dare to glance up at him, immediately dropping his gaze, his cheeks staining a splotchy pink.
"...'Stiles' is that a name?" Jackson sneered, hoping for a reaction. The boys eyes kept glancing up between Jackson - who was now standing very close to him - and his little tan friend, who was trying to steal him away.
"Yes, Stiles.... Sir. I mean, fuck, brother." The boy said in a breathy whisper, his complexion getting ruddier by the minute. Jackson was in his fucking element.
: "Oh, you can call me sir if you want brother. But how about it STILES, are you gonna’ run away with your tail between your legs, or are you going to give your dick some air?"
Lots of the pledges were watching the interaction, Jackson could see that most of them were grateful that his attention wasn't on them. The boy glanced at his friend again - who was twitching his head violently towards the exit - before screwing his eyes shut and began undoing his belt buckle.
"Ding - ding - ding, we have a winner. That's one space of 8 filled for pledges, whoever gets their ass out first just might win one of the other 7!" Jackson called.
He would admit that he might have jumped the gun a /little/ for automatically giving the boy a space, but the prospect rubbing in that little 'sir' slip up all week was positively delicious. The tan boy has huffed, and started taking off his own clothes (muttering to himself) and Jackson started patrolling again up and down the aisle
The tan boy huffed his disdain and began to remove his own clothes. Jackson patrolled up and down the line, jumping viciously at one of the pledges who had visibly bad acne down his back, all the way down to his ass. "Jesus christ, you fucking troll, you should have probably given that some air long before tonight" - it was satisfying when the boy began to cry, he hadn't gotten that sort of reaction out of someone since he was in highschool.
His brothers were also harassing the pledges, taunting them, and snatching their clothes away when they hit the floor. Finally, when all of the boys' were standing awkwardly in the nude, Jackson filled them in on the next part of the plan. "Aiden, go get the buckets of ice."
Jackson walked down the line while Aiden went for the buckets, arms crossed over his chest until the muscles bulged. He puffed with pride as he surveyed their bodies, confident in the fact that his was far superior to any offered. Tan Boy was pretty cut, but didn't have Jackson's bulk. He had a decent dick though, much to Jackson's chagrin. He instead stopped by the boy to the left, raised his fingers to press against the underside of the guy's peck. "Bitch tits?" he said with a condescending head tilt. "May be a bit too saggy for Alpha Phi...what do you think, Brothers?"
Jackson kept his eyes locked on the guy's face as he spoke, watched the shame well there as the guy fought to not make any outward reaction. Jackson could see him squirm though, saw the little twitch in his fingers when he resisted the urge to make a fist. He just stood and took it, impotent.
A few of the pledges held their hands over their crotches, tried to shy away from the scrutiny, and Jackson made quick work of them. One of them caved, a guy with glasses, a skinny body, and chubby cheeks. The brothers all laughed as he stooped to collect his clothes, one of them nudged his bare ass with a foot until he fell on his face, but he kept his hands firmly planted over his crotch.
Jackson found himself back in front of the skinny kid, Stiles. Stiles' posture was rigid, but his head bowed in supplication, arms straight down at his sides with hands curled in fists twitchy with anticipation. Jackson pursed his lips, eyes wandering down the length of that gangly body onto to zero in on the soft prick between his thighs. God, the kid had a cute dick. Soft and pink with tight little balls nestled close to his body behind it. Jackson wanted to cup it, wanted to run his thumb down the length of it until the kid was gasping and crying from the effort to keep from coming.
Instead he stopped before him, brows climbing his forehead as he swirled his finger in the kid's face. "Turn around pledge, show me that ass."
The flush crept down Stiles' face into his throat, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he bit back some comment. He wasn't graceful, but turned as told, head hanging low. He yelped when Jackson slapped him hard on his bare ass, the flesh smarting immediately from the heat of it. "Look at that ass, Brothers!" Jackson yelled in delight. "You a fag, pledge? Cause it looks to me like you were made to take a dick... you're not fucking anyone with that pathetic little baby cock."
Jackson practically vibrated with excitement when Stiles turned back around, eager to see the humiliation shining in his eyes, see his face go pale from the urge to run. When Stiles turned though, he was pink and he did look ashamed, but his sweet little prick was also plumped up with blood.
The fucker was getting hard, kept getting hard even when Jackson scoffed at him.
"What the fuck!"
Jackson broke from his little haze when Tan Boy...Scott, whatever...stepped forward, actually shielding Stiles from Jackson's view.
Aiden chose that moment to come back with the ice, but Jackson had to deal with Scott first. The kid had some real stones to stand up to him while bare ass naked and in a room of upperclassmen, definitely not brains but balls for sure. Not that Jackson would give him the satisfaction of acknowledging this in front of the other brothers and Pledges. Hell no.
"What the hell do you think you're doing Pledge? Get back in line." Jackson jabbed a finger towards the open space Scott's empty head was supposed to be.
Scott shook his head, not budging. "This is fucked up," he said. "Hell week or not, you shouldn't talk to people that way."
Jackson could practically feel the silence from his brothers behind it. They were all spineless pussies, the lot of them. One little pledge pipes up and suddenly none of them can nut up and take charge?
"You don't like it? There's the door," Jackson reminded him again. "You get out of line one more time and we'll toss your ass out of it."
Scott looked back to Stiles, likely assuming his friend would have had enough and be ready to go with him. Jackson half expected him to finally throw in the towel too, but when Scott stood back and gently asked Stiles to come with him, the kid just stood there. Stiles' face was red as a beet, but his hands remained at his sides, his head bowed submissively, his prick still just as swollen.
"Stiles, come on."
Stiles just shook his head, much to Scott's dismay and Jackson's utter delight.
"Looks like he's happy where he is, Pledge" Jackson practically purred. "Last chance. In... or out?"
Scott's jaw clenched in anger, but he backed up into the line again. Jackson would bet his Porsche that he was only staying to keep an eye on his friend, but he couldn't care less. He only had eyes for Stiles.
Order restored, Aiden began dumping the ice on the naked pledges. They howled and sputtered under the frigid onslaught, but instead of reveling in their discomfort, Jackson kept his eyes trained on Stiles. Watched every twitch and shift as he waited his turn. Jackson stepped in closer, right up in his space, and he cast a sharp look towards Scott, daring him to make any sort of objection. Scott looked ready to blow a gasket, but remained still and silent.
Jackson pursed his lips, pointedly looking down at Stiles' crotch. "I don't know, Pledge...can your dick even get smaller? Do you think the ice will make any difference?"
Stiles shuddered, dick twitching at the words, but he didn't speak. Let Aiden dump the ice over his head and shoulders with little more than a flinch. Jackson watched water trickle down his face and drip onto his smooth chest, glide down his flat belly...
Jackson forced himself to look away, want settling warm and heavy in the pit of his stomach. He was getting hard, and he had to get away from this kid before anyone else noticed.
Jackson rarely liked to give into temptation, prided himself on his ability to overcome any obstacle, best any challenge he'd set for himself. He'd never let desire get the best of him, never let himself want another guy, yet all the same there he was. This awkward, geeky kid with an upturned impish nose made him want to get to his knees, rub his face in that soft belly. He wanted this boy alone, in his bed with that ridiculous plump mouth open and gasping. Wanted to see those eyes wide, his thighs trembling as he held back the urge to cum. Wanted to hear his own name fall from that pretty mouth, desperate and needy, like only Jackson could give him what he needed.
Jackson sneered openly at how weak he sounded in his fantasies. A streak of bitterness against the boy tainted the image, like the little fag has infected him - that must be it, right? Caught up in a torrid mixture of arousal and malice, when the other frat brothers began picking pledges to be their 'slave' for the week, Jackson grabbed one of the remaining buckets of ice water and threw it in the boy's face. "Fucking take that, you piece of shit. I call this little bitch - I can count on you fucking running from here before the week's out - just you see!" A flash of emotion passed through the boy's face - he wasn't entirely sure if it was shame - but when the pledges were all forced to walk naked around the block before being allowed to retrieve the clothes, he saw Stiles' eyes repeated glance at him, flushed with curiosity.