The Telemachus Story Archive

Ghostly Fraternizing
Part 1 - Part One
By Kyle Cicero
Email: kysen1@yahoo.com



Ghostly Fraternizing

By Kyle Cicero

One of two final vault tales I found. Enjoy

Part One

Alec couldn’t believe he was back here in this damned ruined house again. “Are you here…ah…Sir,” he heard himself respectfully saying. It was unnerving to think how far he had come in degrading himself now.

Here he was , he thought, Alec Bradley the big man on campus standing this deserted Victorian house cowering like some pathetic wimp. Until a few months ago, the 20-year-old would have laughed in anyone’s face that suggested it. At six foot two and carrying a trimly toned body of one hundred and ninety-five pounds, Alec would have easily cold-conked anyone who questioned his masculinity. Hell, as the biggest cunt-man on campus, his bedposts had so many scoring notches on it that it looked like beavers had attacked them. The image of beavers made him smile. Alec had quite the reputation among the women. He’d give them that steady stare of his green eyes and flash his patented smile on his striking face. Even the most man-hating woman was quickly in his dorm room giving it up to him. He was also his school’s star athlete.  Captain of the school’s wrestling team and undefeated in his weight class. His frat brothers had labeled him a man’s man for his exploits on the field and in the sack. He had easily won the presidency of their fraternity house. Alec Bradley strode across the school grounds like the top dog he had always been in his life. Now, if only they knew what he thought as he stood in the deserted alcove of this house.

“Sir?” Alec rasped again as he pushed a stray brown lock of hair back from his forehead. No reply yet. Alec shivered. How did this all come about? No one had ever cracked through his arrogant demeanor let alone reduced him to a sniveling punk. He’d lived his entire life sure of his superiority and confident in his masculinity. Now, he spent his nights in the fraternity president’s bedroom burning with thoughts of how he was humiliating himself. Over and over he swore to never return to this place only to submit to this compelling urge to do exactly that very thing. “Fucking bitched.” He muttered to himself as he looked about the house. He felt ashamed even as he realized how such a thought now affected him.

That shame stirred waves of delirious erotic arousal. He had tried fighting what he felt. At night, when he was alone in his room, he promised himself to stop his degradation. He made resolution after resolution to put it all behind him. Yet, soon he felt that familiar tug within him. An overwhelming hunger that cried for release. Finally it just became too much to endure and he would return to this house. He hated his inability to resist. Mentally he trash talked himself for his weakness. Yet those degrading names only seemed to feed his sexual hunger. Soon he was, as usual, fully erect. “Fuck,” he moaned as he unzipped his pants to release his raging hard-on. “Fuck I gotta sperm”, he sobbed…in defeat. He reached down and jerked off his thick, uncut 10 inches just to ease that growing need.

“Loser. Punked-out bitch. Pussy-boy.” The self-loathing labels that he chanted took him over the edge. With a barely muffled groan of satisfaction, he spurted. The usual sense of guilt hit as the last of his seed splattered to the floor in front of him. As he looked at the creamy puddle at his feet, he felt ashamed of what he’d done yet he still felt an undercurrent of sexual heat. Even as he pushed his cock back inside his jeans, he knew he’d be back here jerking off again. In his mind he secretly knew that he was no longer the big man on campus. He had become, in the end, a humiliated loser. He cringed at the possibility that others might find out that Alec, the supposed dominating heterosexual jock, was now dominated and had become a whimpering sexual submissive to the inhabitant of this house.

“I’m a fucking punk loser.” Alec moaned to the empty room. Even as the words left his lips, his need to jerk-off re-flared and his shaft stiffened. “Sir?” Alec repeated.

He anxiously awaited a reply. Thinking of the…presence …no…his Master…his brain instructed his brain…the idea excited and thrilled him. Alec subconsciously massaged his cock causing a respectable bulge in his tight jeans. “I’m here, Master.” Alec sighed as he surrendered the fight. He dropped to his knees, unzipped his pants, pulled out his hard-on, and began to masturbate. “Masssterrr,” he groaned as he shot his spunk to the floor. He heard a voice say ‘lick it up’ . Instinctively he leaned his handsome face into his goop to lick it off the floor. As he had been trained to do, he slurped up every bit of it. The taste of his cum, combined with the overpowering arousal of degrading himself, was intoxicating. “Bitched. My straight jock-ass bitched,” he murmured as he lapped at the wooden floor.

“Good boy,” the voice roared shaking Alec out of his actions. “Did you get those files?” the voice said as it materialized into a spectral form in front of Alec.

Alec nodded gazing at the ghostly image appearing in front of him. The presence’s shape was now familiar to him. A sculpted six feet of powerful muscles with a massive chest tapering down to a narrow waist that flared out slightly into two powerfully muscled thighs.

Unlike Alec, who had always been smooth, this masculine presence was respectably hairy. His chest had a soft covering of dark curls and his legs a complimentary layer as well of soft black hair. A smile broke out from the ghostly form seeing Alec on his knees before him with his limp cock dangling between his legs and his handsome face smeared with the remnants of the cum he had just slurped.

Alec knew how he looked, and it filled him with embarrassment yet on another deeper level it now also aroused him. His brain signaled those two sensations to his brain and Alec’s cock stirred. “Fuck,” he moaned as his experienced the urge to succumb. He looked up at the bearded smiling face of the ghostly man. With a strangled cry he took his cock firmly in his grasp and jerked himself off with cries of how much he was this man’s obedient bitch. “Your fagged, bitch,” he babbled over and over as he brought himself to the brink of a climax.

The brawny ghost smirked at how degraded Alec had become in the months since he had first come to this house scouting the place as a possible location for a pledge initiation. How haughty and smug Alec had been that first night even bringing some woman here and having the complete arrogance to screw her in his house. Seeing that sculpted body of the youthful jock with his luscious naked ass humping up and down under that squirming girl had thrilled the ghost. He had decided to take this athlete and reduce him to a pathetic submissive to his own ghostly sexual urges and needs. “Loser,” he growled loudly as the masturbating jock.

“Masssterr,” Alec moaned in response as he spurted another load close to the ghost’s feet. The young fraternity president gazed up at the form before him panting and streaked with sweat from his exertions. “Master,” he sobbed in embarrassment.

Observing Alec now as he spurted his jock’s spunk while being flushed with arousal and humiliation was pleasing to the ghost. The specter looked at his conquered athlete. “Lick up this mess and my feet too while you are down there,” the now visible form stated. He knew how the degradation of doing this would not only reinforce into Alec his new status but also give the once arrogant hunk an erotic jolt that would further mind fuck him.

“Yes Master,” a subdued Alec replied as he thrust his face down and performed as directed. His tongue reached out and began its duty.

The dirty floor’s taste combined with his own spunk almost made him gag. Yet, by now he was so mentally broken, he just got on with his assignment without any protest. His tongue reached the form’s toes and the formerly haughty athlete and current frat president obediently went to work on each one with his mouth. 

“Good boy,” the ghost snickered as Alec lapped on the ghost’s toes. “Now let’s discuss these pledges.”

“Yeaths sirth,” Alec answered in muffled tones his mouth full of ghostly toes.

“Hand me the notes you made, bitch boy,” the ghost rasped as he took hold of Alec’s hair and yanked the jock’s head up to face him.

“Yes Sir,” Alec replied submissively and with total respect to the grinning ghost that now completely owned his nicely plump, muscled rump.

“Not the same boy who I first met, huh?” the form snickered in triumph releasing Alec’s hair.

Alec’s mind drifted back to their first encounter. How far off it now seemed when he was cock of the walk. Now he was just an addicted cocksucker. The past flickered across his brain to that initial meeting with the man or ghost he now submissively served.

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