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Certain stories should never be repeated. This is one of them. It concerns the events that changed my life forever. It is dirty and nasty and depraved. And it made me what I am today.

So I guess I really have to share it with you.

I was just 18 years old, and I was pledging a fraternity that I probably shouldn’t name. I was a typical, heterosexual boy, dating a very pretty redheaded girl named Susan who seemed far less interested in me than I was in her.

I was going to the gym constantly to try to make myself more attractive to Susan. I liked the results I was getting.

My chest was tighter. My arms were bigger.I had a six pack. My thighs were sculpted and led up to an ass that was small, round and muscular. I began shaving my body, even the hair around my cock. I admired myself for hours in the mirror. I thought I looked like a God. I couldn’t understand why Susan was so reluctant to go to bed with me.

Meanwhile, the fraternity pledge process had entered that phase known famously, but secretly, as Hell Week. We all were supposed to deny that it existed because officially it didn’t. The abuses of Hell Week were the stuff of legend, and any frat house that participated in such practices risked decertification. But when I got a note telling me to go to a Catholic church on the North Side of town at 3 a.m. on a Thursday, I knew Hell Week was alive and well. I just didn’t know just what sort of Hell awaited me.

I arrived at the church expecting to see the other pledges. Instead I was alone, met only by a couple of men whose identities were concealed by hooded black robes. They ushered me into a back room and told me to wear only the loin cloth on the table in front of Halkalı Escort me.

I did as I was told. I wore the loin cloth which, try as I may, kept feeling like it was going to fall off. I could hear an organ playing in the dark, candle-lit sanctuary, and I could smell burning insense.

Suddenly the doors opened and the two hooded men escorted me in near nakedness into the nave. I was led down the aisle, past a dozen people in hooded robes. I assumed they were frat brothers though through the haze of the incense, I could not see their faces.

At the front of the altar stood another hooded anonymous man. I could see his lips, but not his eyes.

I thought of him as “The Priest.” The Priest smiled at me and quickly licked his lips. I felt a sort of dread I had never felt before.

Then he turned his back to me and knelt before the altar in prayer. As I watched, I felt my two escorts each grab one of my wrists and shackle them to long, heavy chains that extended from the rafters. Then each grabbed one of my ankles and shackled them to chains on the floor. The chains were pulled. My arms and legs were pulled apart. My loincloth was barely clinging to my naked body. I was feeling a great deal of shame.

The priest approached me. He began to mutter Latin prayers as he dipped a paint brush in a bowl filled with baby oil. He continued to chant as I felt him drag the oily brush up and down my back and my legs, then my arms, my chest, my stomach, and my thighs.

I felt like a slab of meat on display in front of these men. It sickened me, knowing they were watching me in the flickering candle light.

But nothing prepared me for what happened next. The Halkalı Escort Bayan priest, still chanting, quickly yanked the loincloth off my teenaged body.

I screamed and begged for mercy, but the bass-heavy organ music got louder and drowned my pleas. He was now painting the baby oil over and over on my little round ass and my small, shaven, circumsized cock.

I was writhing in my chains, desperate to escape, but the priest stuck his mouth by my ear and licked it.

My arms and legs were being pulled farther apart. I felt the priest’s hand exploring the globes of my now open bottom. I begged him to stop. But he wouldn’t. I begged harder when I felt his oily fingers sliding between the cheeks of my ass and into my virginal rectum.

“Stop please,” I gasped. “I’m not gay. I’m straight. Please stop doing this.”

The priest ignored me. His long thin fingers were probing my bottom now with a purposeful urgency. He continued to chant as I felt two, three, then four fingers plunging in and out of me.

What happened next shocked me even more.

Naked and chained in a room full of hooded men, I felt my cock begin to stiffen and rise.

I knew they were staring at it. I tried to will it down. But the feeling of those fingers in my bottom and the idea of being on display like this was turning me on.

I began breathing harder and started rocking against the priest’s big, nasty fingers. Now my cock was rock hard and curling upward. I could see several in the audience had their own hands under their robes. They were playing with their cocks as they watched mine harden.

The priest brought his mouth to my ear again, only this time he spoke.

“You’re Escort Halkalı not straight,” he said. “Straight boys don’t have pussies. I’m warning you, boy: If that cock of yours cums without being touched, they’ll all know you have a pussy back there. And they’ll all want to fuck you.”

I knew I didn’t want to be a sex toy to these men, so I tried to stop the feeling that was building inside me. But the priest’s strong fingers were now sliding in and out of me with such authority that I couldn’t stop putting on a nasty show. My cock was now swelling, straining. His fingers had found the erotic secret in my bottom.

“Oh God!” I gasped. As my audience looked on, my untouched cock began spitting out long ropes of cum. I had never cum so hard before in my life. My cock began twitching with the final spasms. I could hear the priest laugh as his fingers wiggled inside me to coax the last drops of my orgasm from my aching balls.

Spent, I was dragged in chains to the altar. There I was draped over the cloth that covered the stone. My ass was now turned upward, well oiled and opened. The men who had watched me cum had lined up behind me. I heard them taking off their robes. But the way I was trussed up against the altar, I couldn’t turn around to see.

The first cock entered me with a forcefulness that made me shout. I assume it was the priest who took me first. After that, it was all a blur. One after another they mounted me, grunting and rocking against me, their hard cocks spewing their sperm inside me.

I felt their cum dripping over my upturned balls. Again and again my untouched cock stiffened and came.

I guess I was drugged. Maybe I passed out. I woke up hours later in bed in my dorm room, sore, sticky and naked.

I was so far beyond shame. To this day, I still don’t know who fucked me, though I have some ideas. I did stop pledging that fraternity. I also stopped dating girls.

But I do now go to church on a regular basis.

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