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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.
The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Index:
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Title: Sigma Iota Mu Fraternity
Author: ExploreHer
Chapter Tags: Add story tags specific to the opening chapter of your story here if you want to.
Content Warnings: Add here further content warnings you would like to make your readers aware of.
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This is my first time writing long-form stories such as this, so please provide any feedback or ideas! This story is not yet complete and could be taken in many directions. This is also my first structured post on this site, so if I have screwed up formatting or some cultural aspect for the forum, please forgive me!
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Sigma Iota Mu Fraternity
Welcome, Pledges
Last night, this floor had been the center of a raucous fraternity party celebrating the offer of pledgeship to all thirteen freshmen. Alcohol flowed freely, girls in short skirts screamed and sang poorly along with the biggest pop songs of the day. No one acknowledged the sticky floors and carpet reeking of stale beer with a vague occassional waft of vomit. A traditional fraternity party by every definition.
But less than 24 hours later, the room was transformed. Now clean (relatively), quiet, and bare. No more crowds, no more kegs, no more tables of broken plastic cups. Only a few empty chairs, a barely-working television mounted on the wall, and a row of thirteen freshman. seated side-by-side. Each wore a yellow t-shirt and blue gym shorts – the assigned uniform for new pledges to the Sigma Iota Mu fraternity.
Cameron shook with adrenaline of anticipation and chills as a vent continually blew cool air into the already-cold room. Perhaps the thermostat had been set expecting a hundred or more partygoers. His thin frame ached, still recovering from last night. It did not seem to matter that he weighed only 130 pounds - brothers had offered, and nearly forced, shot after shot last night. Cameron’ stomach turned as he remembered, and turned again wondering what he did not remember.
Breaking the silence, an older brother, perhaps a junior or senior, stepped out from the kitchen and calmly walked, standing proudly in front of the new freshmen.
“Welcome, pledges. I am Brother Mike,” he began. “You are pledges. I don’t really care what your names are, since not all of you will be joining the house. Some of you, the more engaged, creative, and knowledgeable, will be asked to become our brothers. The weak, timid, childish, and pathetic will be asked to leave.”
Mike paused, letting the silence settle in, with his voice unchallenged by any other sound.
“Who here knows what our letters, Sigma Iota Mu, stand for?” Mike looked down the line awaiting an answer. Cameron was pushed slightly as the pledge to his left raised a hand. Mike stepped toward them, knelt down, and waited. “Well, what does Sigma Iota Mu stand for?”
The freshman proudly and confidently replied, projecting from his diaphragm, “Security. Integrity. Mindfulness.” The pledge smiled, continuing to stare ahead as he imagined a solder would.
Mike released a disappointed snort, staring at the ground before him. “Get out.”
Silence, except for the vent still blowing cool air onto Cameron’s neck.
Mike repeated, “Get out. Or I am going to break your nose.”
With that, the pledge stood, and frantically scurried, trying to decide which door was the exit. His third attempt was successful, and the door slammed itself shut with a loud thud.
Mike stood up, moving back to the center of the room. Cameron continued to stare forward, now keenly aware of his isolation from the group - no one on either side of him left him seemingly vulnerable.
After clearing his throat, he continued, “Sigma Iota Mu tells the world these letters stand for Security, Integrity, and Mindfulness. But you should know better. Last night you participated in our Choosing party, and we think you deserve to know that these letters stand for something far more important. They stand for our view on society. On the world. On each other. These letters stand for She. Is. Meat.”
A shiver ran up Cameron’s spine. His nose twitched, trying to center his glasses without moving his hands.
“In many ways, the true meaning is exactly the opposite of our outward appearance. Security – we make women feel anything but secure – we make them feel as if they are always, ALWAYS, in danger and objectified. Integrity - we lie to women, we deceive women, we use women. Mindfulness - we are indeed mindful, but only to the games we play inside women’s heads. BROTHERS!” Mike stretched his arm toward the large kitchen doors as they swung open, as if a circus showman revealing a lion.
The double kitchen doors burst open, and through them appeared four brothers - one carrying each corner of a bare mattress with a woman laying atop. The brothers eventually laid the mattress, and its passenger, down in the center of the room.
Cameron remained frozen, but his eyes strained, frantically assessing the situation. He evaluated point by point – the woman was nude, and one of her nipples was already visible from her body position, erect and cold. Her brunette hair covered much of her face, but she seemed unbothered. She lay on her side, but did not move at all in transit. She appeared to have a thin frame, and wore no shoes or socks. She appeared to be asleep.
Cameron’s heart raced. Normally he would have immediately jumped to help her, just like the white knight he viewed himself as. But he would be outnumbered, and another pledge had already been threatened and exiled for much less than actual interference.
The brothers lined up, shoulder to shoulder, leaving the woman on the mattress between themselves and the pledges. Mike climbed atop the mattress, standing, straddling the woman, before continuing, “Our fraternity is not one some new-age mixed-gender ‘fraternity’ for to help your ‘career’. Sigma Iota Mu builds bonds stronger than your family. As brothers, we place ultimate trust in each other. Tonight we will begin that process.”
Mike knelt down and pushed the woman, and her shoulders limply fell flat on the mattress, her head lagging behind. Her legs remained twisted to the side, keeping her most sensitive area hidden to the pledges.
“We build trust as brothers with a common enemy. This is a well-known and documented bonding tactic. You can read all about it - we are not unique, lots of fraternities do this. But we are unique in two ways: First – I just told you about the common enemy. Everyone else keeps this a secret until the end, when you have emerged from hell-week or some other stupid bullshit. Not us - we tell you right now. Second – our common enemy is not a “pledge trainer” or a “pledge master” or any of that. Our common enemy is law enforcement.”
Mike grabbed the woman’s knee and flopped it over, now placing her flat on her back. Her legs spread open, the soles of her bare feet nearly touching. Cameron, from his vantage point, could not help but try to observe her sex, which was clearly shaved, but no detail visible.
“This is Alison,” Mike continued. “Alison is a freshman in this school – just like yourselves. Pledges, tell me what you know about Alison. Look at her, maybe you’ve seen her before. Tell me what you think of her. We will go down the line. All twelve of you will have a chance to answer. Do not repeat an answer.”
Mike moved to stand tall in front of the first pledge – farthest away from Cameron. Both a relief and a terror, since he could not repeat an answer.
“Well?” Mike looked inquisitively at the first pledge.
“She has brown hair,” he softly said, not moving from his place in the row.
“Good, pledge! That’s right, she has brown hair. Obvious, but obvious things are often the most important things. Well done.”
Mike moved to the second pledge.
“She is skinny,” the pledge stated.
Mike clapped his hands once, loudly. “Again, well done! Alison is skinny. Alison definitely takes care of herself. Barely any fat on her, which is exactly what we expect from females.”
Mike stepped in front of the third pledge.
“She is a student here, so she is smart,” he stated. The air stood still. Even the vent, which had been blowing constantly, halted, as if in shock itself.
“Get out, or I will break your nose,” Mike stated calmly.
The pledge scampered directly to the door, muttering “fuck, fuck, fuck” under his breath the whole way.
Mike walked to the side of the room, grabbed a small whiteboard, and came back to his place in the center, straddling Alison’s limp body.
“PLEDGES. Do not make the same mistake as that retard just made. He said Alison is smart. That is wrong, for multiple reasons. First – Alison is female. They are inherently less intelligent than us. They are more trusting. They are less likely to realize their surroundings. Now that is not necessarily their fault, but it is the way they are made. It is a fact of life. A cold, hard fact. Not to mention Alison was at our party last night. Alison took drugs last night. Does that sound like something a smart person does? Take drugs at a party with strangers? No, it does not.”
Mike began to write on the board.
- ·
- Brown hair
- Skinny
The pledges began calling out their answers, which Mike added to his list.
- Small tits
- Shaved pussy
- Makeup sloppy / black tears
- Attractive face
- No shoes / barefoot
- Pink nipples
- Sleeping
- Has tattoos
Mike pointed to Cameron. “You, on the end, you even tried to make a move on her. It didn’t work, but good on you for trying. You saw Alison was sloppy, and you tried to take advantage of that time. We saw that, and we approve.”
Cameron tried desperately to remember. Had he really spoken to Alison last night in his drunken haze? Had he done anything untoward?
“Alison drank a lot of our alcohol last night. A lot of the brothers’ alcohol. Far too much for a petite girl such as herself. Alison also took two roofies mixed into those drinks – again, far too much for a girl such as herself.”
Mike continued his monologue. “In addition, we see here Alison has tattoos.” Mike slid his hands along Alison’s thin arms, marked with flowers, a butterfly, and something of a tribal-style arm band. “Girls with tattoos are a special breed. They voluntarily endure pain to look pretty or in their mind, beautiful. They understand that their physical pain is for our pleasure. Now, lets continue our list.”
The next pledge stated, more detailed than the others, “Gay. I spoke to her last night. She told me she is a lesbian.”
- “Gay” / “lesbian”
Cameron said meekly, “Vulnerable.”
Mike smiled, nodded, and added it to the list. “I knew I had a good feeling about you, nerdy little man.”
- Vulnerable
Mike pointed to Cameron. “But first, she is for you.”
End of chapter 1
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Since this is just my first chapter, I would appreciate any feedback, either on the story itself, writing, or just my general forum formatting and such. Thank you.
