Roofie, Roofie, Who's Got the Roofie?

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
Artwork (c) 2003 by Mike D.

Illustration of 'Who's Got the Roofie'

It was a pretty nice frat party at the Delta Eta Pi's that Friday night. I was a pledge, but the hazing part of that so far had been pretty mild. Oh, I had to clean the place after every party, and things like that, but overall, this was a pretty good frat to deal with and the pledge period would be over soon. Tonight, they weren't even using the public forum to make my life miserable, it was like I was one of the group. Feeling the comradeship of the frat, and it was a hell of a good feeling. Plenty of guys there and a fair number of girls, the girlfriends of the frat guys. There was no alcohol but a variety of other things to drink. Okay, so it wasn't a mad party frat I was joining, but that's okay. This frat had the nicest guys in it, good fellas, all of them, ready to have fun but equally ready to help you study for a hard test.

At eleven o'clock, a bell sounded, and I jumped. "What was that?" I asked Brad, a sophomore and closest frat member.

"End of the regular party. Rest of the night is members only." he explained succinctly.

But inadequately. I noticed several members of the frat leaving with their girlfriends, as well as some members without girlfriends. I could see a man taking his girl home, but why were the others? I asked Brad about this.

"It's time for the roofies game."

"Roofies?" I'd heard the term, a drug you slipped into a girl's drink if you wanted to rape her. But a game with them?

"Didn't you make the meeting last Thursday afternoon? All pledges were supposed to attend!"

"I had a class that conflicted." I explained. "What'd I miss?"

"The explanation of the weekly games." Brad went on. "Pledges qualify to attend them now."

"Games?" They were wheeling out an odd contraption, like a bed, but made of solid wood covered with only a bit of padding on top. Think of a theatrical bed, if you know what they're like, where you don't want the actors bouncing or sinking down out of sight.

"The roofies game." Brad sighed and said, "Okay, I'll try to make it fast. We're a brotherhood, watch out for each other, right? But we're also men at the height of our sexual prowess. No access to sexual release can alter our moods, disturb our studies, disrupt our progress towards graduation and the career that comes afterward. Not every brother has a girl he can rely on for that. So we have the weekly games. You get your sexual release and can concentrate on your studies."

"You give a roofie to a girl at these?" I was scandalized, this wasn't one of those kind of frats!

"No, no, no! The roofie game is for frat brothers only. Here's the rules, and first is that it's voluntary only. Nobody's making you attend. Leave if it bothers you."

He ticked off the rest of the points on his fingers as he went on. "They'll bring out the drinks in a little bit. We each take a drink. It's fruit juice, but one of the glasses also has a roofie dissolved in it. As well as other drugs, courtesy of some pre-med brothers. The brother who drinks the roofie is the one who gets gang-banged when the roofie kicks in."

"A gang-rape?"

"It isn't rape when you've agreed to it." Brad pointed out. First rule, nobody has to play. Second, those other drugs in there, you've got something to make you horny as hell, and another one to make your senses churn into overdrive. Even if you get gang-fucked, you're going to love it. I can vouch for that. But look at the odds, there's over thirty guys in there. You need to get your rocks off, you got a one in thirty chance of being the one who plays bottom. Otherwise, you get to shove it in and pump it hard and the guy you're ramming will be moaning and loving it. So pick fast. They're bringing in the drinks, and pledges have to choose first."

I looked over the guys. Group sex with them? Maybe I'd be the one they were gang-ramming, even! More likely, though, I'd be one of the guys in line, sharing the sex with them. Watching them fuck someone, listening to them groaning in their pleasure, moaning as they came, then sticking in my own cock and have their sperm boiling all around my prick while I fucked.

Oh, God, I threw the biggest damned erection I'd ever had! Thinking about fucking an ass loaded up with my frat brothers' spunk! Only a one-in-thirty chance I'd be the one on bottom! And Brad was right, if you agreed to take the chance, it wasn't rape, was it?

"What if I realize I got the roofie and want to back out?" I asked.

Brad shrugged. "You'd be allowed to leave. But you couldn't expect to stay in the frat if you did. I mean, if you're the kind who would back out at that point where you would have participated if you hadn't drawn the roofie, then you don't belong in the frat. But dude, if you're freaked out by any part of this, leave now. Nobody is penalized for not wanting in on this game, honest. Nearly a third of the guys in the frat have never played, and about half of the guys who are playing tonight don't play more than half the time."

I saw the guys lining up to take the cups. This would be the way they lined up to fuck the guy who got the roofie. I had another flash of plunging my cock into a sloppy mess of their come, and that firmed my resolution. "I'll do it!"

I got up and got in line. The only comment from the brother passing out the cups was, "You should have been first in line, pledge." I apologized but he'd already passed on to the next guy before I could explain.

The juice was strawberry flavored, I guess they'd bought a large bottle of cola drink or something, but there was no fizz. I smacked my lips as I drank, trying to judge. Had I gotten the roofie or not? I'd done a head count, there were thirty-six guys in the room, drinking their juice and chatting amiably. I made thirty-seven, that is. The same odds, almost, as hitting the green "00" at the roulette table.

The party got more animated as the time went on. Guys were telling stories about other times they'd played this game, taking their turns fucking, a guy getting so turned on he squirted over the guy ahead of him in line, reminders not to jerk off too much ahead of time, you wanted to be hard but not right on the edge. How long did it take for a roofie to take effect, anyway? I was feeling awful tired, kind of groggy.

A bell rung and several guys shouted out, "Roofie, roofie, who's got the roofie!" And other guys shouted and cheered. I tried, but my voice was foggy and clogged in my throat.

Oh, God, it was me! I'd spun the roulette wheel and it had come up "00" on me!

"Michael? Is it Michael? Michael, speak up!"

"What is it, sir?" Michael was a fellow pledge.

"It's not Michael. Who's not spoken up yet? Gregory?"

"Not me!" Gregory was one of our senior frat members.

"William? William, is it you?"

I was William. I stood up and tried to speak, but failed at both, a sort of groan came out of my mouth and I fell back into the couch.

"It's William, William, William got the roo-fie!" chanted one of the frat guys.

"Get him on the pedestal!" a guy named Andy shouted.

"I get him first!" That was Brad. Shit, Brad!

"We'll all get him! Come on, let's get him on there and strip him!"

I was helpless to resist, it was like my muscles were moving through quicksand and weak as well. I tried to cry out a protest, but was unable to talk. I couldn't quit now. But I'd agreed to it, hadn't I? I'd counted on the odds saving me. And it'd turned out I was the one that drew the black spot, so to speak.

My clothes came off quick enough, I guess the guys were used to it by now, stripping their helpless victim. They did this every week, after all. Every week. I'd taken the hit now; I could count on not drawing the roofie for the rest of the school year! If the odds were with me, that is. Odds, hah!

Nude now on the silken soft coverings of this pedestal, I looked up into Brad's face, he had his pants down and was pushing his body in between my legs, lifted them up and held them around his waist. His handsome blond-haired face was the same and yet altered, he'd looked on me as a friend before, now he looked on me as the guy he was about to fuck and fuck hard.

Oh, God! I gave out a low moaning sound, trying to say those words.

"Hey, don't worry, buddy, you'll love it." Brad told me. "I know I did. We all grease up before we shove it in. Of course, before long, you won't need any grease!"

The guys laughed and in the middle of that, Brad shoved his dong into me. I felt the thick rod plunging into my ass, and my body didn't fight it at all. A muscle relaxant must be in that witches' brew they'd given me. It didn't hurt at all. Felt kind of good, in fact.

"Uhhh, uhh!" I moaned.

"You like that, William?" Brad asked me. "It does feel good, doesn't it?"

"Uhh, yeahhhhh!" I murmured.

"Don't worry, we'll give you all you can handle and then some."

"Come on, fuck him, I'm ready and then some!" the guy behind him grumbled.

Brad was moving in me, but not hard and fast. His cock was liberally greased, all I felt was pleasure as he fucked at me.

"Come on, yeah, fuck him harder, fuck him harder! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" the guys behind him in line were chanting.

Brad seemed to catch fire from that. All those guys watching him fuck me, he was on stage, performing for them. He sped up and the pleasure rose in me. His hips were slapping at my buttocks as he rammed me, his face flushed, he grunted, moaned, roared and I felt it, then, the hot salty spunk of his load creamed into me, and I moaned myself, not in climax, but on the road, on the road!

Brad fell over onto me, heavily panting in my ear, and he murmured, "Don't worry, buddy, you'll get through it. I did, last year, when it was me." And with that, he pulled out of me and got off me.

Next in line was Alex, a brawny stud here on a football scholarship. I groaned when I saw him, for he was big and strong and quick to rough up other guys in pretended jest. "Hey, Billy!" he said; he was the only one who called me that. "You ready to ride the love-train!"

I mumbled an attempt at a response (Hell, no!), but he was on me and shoved it into me. He was bigger than Brad and it should have hurt me. It didn't. I don't know what was in those drugs they'd slipped me, but I didn't hurt at all. I was filled with another hard dong and it was squelching in among Brad's load and Alex began to fuck at me. He was rough, nearly brutal, and he was babbling off sounds like a quarterback calling for the football to be hiked. "Hut, hut, hut, hut, hut!"

"Come on, Alex, ram him good!" That was another football player in the frat!

"Give it to him, harder, harder, harder!"

"Hut, hut, hut, hut, hut!" Alex was inexorable. His cock was slamming into me, harder than he need to be, and my body didn't reject it at all. I groaned, and my pleasure built up even despite the rough fucking I was getting.

"Hut, hut, hut,huh-huh, uh-GUH-HUUUUUUH!" Alex slammed his prick into me, deep as he could, and that was where he came, spraying his wad so deep inside me, I could feel only the pulsing of his dong as the sperm surged through his shaft where my prostate was.

"HAHH-HAHH-HAHH-HAHH-HAHH!" Alex was heaving as he caught his breath and he staggered upright. "Hoo, hoo, hoo!" he said as he moved almost ponderously off.

Next in line was Brandon and he was a man I barely knew. He slid his cock into me and I felt again the sperm in my ass squelching around him. Brandon felt it, too, and he gasped, then he began to hump at me, a quick rabbit-fuck movement and the guys were getting rowdier as the line moved forward. I saw them as if through a haze, a long line of guys, some with their dongs out, playing with them, others with their hands on their still-clothed crotches, and I knew that before they were done, all of them would be fucking my ass.

Maybe it was the drugs, God knows I didn't know what was in them. Maybe there's a part of each of us that, in order to survive, can adjust its world-view in a moment to where the new life is tolerable. I don't know where it came from, but I know that suddenly the idea of taking that many pricks up my ass was sounding damned good to me!

And with that realization came a return of some of my motor skills, and I reached up and grabbed hold of Brandon just as he reached his climax, and I held him tight as he gasped, blasting his wad into me, feeling the hot spunk boiling into me, and now I felt brim-full of hot man-juice, from now on, I was a filled crock being plugged with even more.

After Brandon was Carl, a buffed black guy and he was grinning broadly as he hefted my body up a little higher to accommodate his taller frame, and then he pushed into me. As I'd predicted, he plunged into a cauldron of come as he did. His cock going in and out of me was like a plunger in a plugged toilet, a sklorch-sklorch-sklorch feel and a huge suction as he pulled out of me with each stroke. The guys weren't lasting as long now, the jerking and fondling they'd been doing was showing, and the knowledge they'd come quickly was something of a relief.

Carl spurted into me and that squeezed jizz out around his shaft in all directions, I felt his come-soaked dong slapping my buttocks as he finished. And when he pulled out, a gush of come followed it.

After Carl was Rod, after Rod was Paul, after Paul was Richard, after Richard was Rick, and by now, I was practically in control of myself. Oh, I couldn't get up from that pedestal, but I could and did hold onto the guys as they fucked me and when Rick reached his climax, it built up slower than the others and I found my own climax riding up with him, and when he shot his load into me, I squirted mine all over his stomach.

"Ah, ah, shit, he's coming, God, man, all over me, shit, man, shit!" Rick complained. "It's on my jersey, man, I just washed it!"

The guys laughed, rowdily. It was like they were all drunk, and I knew damned well that there had been no alcohol in this place. They were drunk on the experience.

They were drunk on the idea of fucking the same guy, of plunging their cocks into the ass that held their buddies' come, they were bonding in this. Would they bond with me tonight? Was the fact I'd been fucked my first time enough to make me a permanent outsider? I didn't know.

And the men came on, and on, and on and I wasn't even halfway through them. I was a sloppy fuck now, and that turned some guys on and turned some off, for each guy that seemed to groan in pleasure when he felt the hot salty spunk in my ass waiting for him, another groaned in dismay and fucked me almost gingerly. I had scant sympathy for those guys, they should have been earlier in line or passed up on the chance to fuck me if they were going to be like that.

I had a happy idea. When a guy looked at me critically as he stepped up and saw the sticky mess I was, I offered, "If you don't want any spunk on your junk, I'll suck you."

"You will?" the guy said, his name was Jeremy.

"Why not?" I said, slurrily but clearly. "I'm the fuck-toy tonight, maybe it'll be you next week. Might as well do a good job tonight, and you can return the favor next time."

Jeremy hesitated, then said, "Yeah, I'd prefer your mouth to your ass. Your ass is full of come."

"No shit, Sherlock!" another guy chipped in and everyone laughed.

Jeremy came around to the side and I scooted over, sluggishly and got where I could take him in my mouth.

"Hey, William, can I get a handjob instead?" A guy near the back of the line asked.

"Sure, why not?" Another guy in back agreed.

I had the guy behind Jeremy, a brawny football player (the frat had maybe a dozen such in the membership) named Gerald, was stuffing his prod into my ass. "Uhhh, God, it's like fucking a cup of hot banana pudding in there!"

"Sounds like your last girlfriend!"

"Feels like her, too, I like it!" Gerald told me.

Jeremy was getting into being sucked by me, though I was doing only a mediocre job of it, the drugs wouldn't let me move my muscles right. But he was getting sucked while his buddies watched, and my mouth was warm and, in his eyes, virginally clean, and he moaned and squirted his wad into me. I'd never tasted sperm before, and it was hot and salty and slimy and thick, and I managed to drink it down rather than spit it out.

Now I had guys pushing their cocks into my hands, not the two who'd spoken up, others had beaten them to it. I took another guy's cock into my mouth and pumped the two who had chosen my hands, and another cock went into my well-fucked ass, and so it continued.

An endless line of men, I began to wonder if some of them were coming around for a second turn, I couldn't keep track of who had fucked me and who hadn't. It all went over for nearly two hours, and then I guess everyone had had a turn at me, and I was left alone. But only for a short time.

The guys were decent about it, they came up with wash clothes and warm water and I was bathed and cleaned up, and they made an effort to suction all the spunk out of my ass for me, an uncomfortable thing (they had a tube up my ass and a suction bulb), but it wasn't too bad; they just used it to get the main amount of it out, and they showed me the jar they'd collected it into, it was like a pint of jizz, and I marveled that they'd gotten that much, then they laughed and told me that they'd poured in a quantity of milk and only maybe a fourth of it had been what they'd collected.

I was dressed in my bedclothes and carried by them up to my bedroom and put carefully in my bed and a pledge was assigned to watch over me and make sure I was safe and secure while the medication wore off. I fell asleep almost immediately and next thing I knew, it was daylight, and they brought me breakfast in bed even though it was after eleven in the morning.

I'd just finished when Brad came in. "How you doing this morning, William?" he asked me.

"I'm okay." I said carefully. Feeling a little bashful, I mean, Brad was the man who'd taken my virginal ass-cherry.

I could see he felt that way, too. "How do you feel?" he asked me. It wasn't the same question, I could tell.

"I'm a little tired." I admitted. "Groggy, too."

"I know, I was wiped out the entire next day when I did it."

"One thing I am wondering." I said. "How are the rest of the guys going to treat me, now that they've, you know, fucked me?"

"You worried about that?" Brad asked me, and I nodded. "Hell, this is a once-a-week game, been going on ever since the semester started. We give the pledges time to get to know us before we let them stay for the game, but this wasn't the first time there's been a gang-bang in this frat."

"So how are they going to treat me?"

"Same as before. Except maybe they'll be a little friendlier to you, a little closer." Brad told me. "And for the next month, you're exempt from having to drink from the cup at all. The next four gang-bangs, you get to get in line. For all I know, I'll be the one lying on the pedestal, and you'll be fucking me. Why should I treat you like a whore?"

"Okay." I said and yawned. "I think I'm going to sleep a bit more if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Brad hesitated. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all."I said, unintentionally parroting him, but he didn't notice.

I was drowsing off when I felt him crawling in and snuggling up to me. He had stripped down to his briefs, I could feel. His warm, bare body was cuddling up to me and it felt nice. Real nice, like he trusted me completely and I trusted him. The way frat brothers should.

And with the warm glow of brotherhood that thought produced, I went back to sleep.

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