Mike humiliating adventures

Chapter 2 - mikes night at the frat

It's Saturday night at the University of Illinois. All the bars are filled, there's a party on every block. By far the most popular spot to be was Fraternity Park. All the fraternities and sororities had wild, drug and alcohol filled ragers. Only the most popular and elite were invited.

Earlier in the week, Mike was sitting in his history 101 lecture, which was in a huge lecture hall. The class probably had over 300 people. He typed away at his key board absent minded trying to keep up with the professor's notes. A large iced-coffee sat on his desk, with extra cream and sugar, along with a bag of chips to snack on. The lecture ended and Mike filled his bag and prepared to leave.

As he stood up to leave Brent, one of the members of an elite fraternity was standing there waiting for him. Brent had a huge smile on his face. He was a typical frat boy, nice clothes, and a nice body, entitled and cocky.

As Mike headed for the exit he heard Brent's voice, "It's Mike right?"

Mike sheepishly replied, "Yeah, why what's up?"

Brent closed the space between them and wrapped his arm around Mike leading him out of the lecture hall, "My names Brent and I'm in Kappa Gamma. We wondering if you'd like to attend our semi-formal were having this weekend."

Confused and a bit nervous Mike asked, "Who me? No you guys wouldn't want a guy like me." Mike's eyes making out the clear differences between the two men.

"Come on man, I'm asking you to come. I know you by name. Why wouldn't we want you to be there?"

"I don't know, let me think about it." Mike said looking down at his feet, seeing the peak of his belly hanging over his khaki pants.

Brent quickly and assertively replied, "No, you don't understand. This is one of the most exclusive and elite fraternities on campus. These offers don't just come around every day. I need to know now."

Almost instinctively and out of primal fear, Mike answered, "Yeah ill be there!"

"Dope bro, come by about 9 just come on in. There's a door that leads you to the basement, the DJ will be down there with me and I'll take you around to meet everyone," said Brent. "Oh yeah, by the way. Why don't you wear this outfit? Brent said tugging the bottom of Mike's shirt.

The two men went their separate ways. When Mike got back to his apartment, he let out a huge gasp. He thought to himself, "Why me? I don't even know these guys! And clearly I'm not the type of people they usually hang out with."

It was Thursday afternoon and Mike knew the party was on Friday. He ordered himself some take-out and he put on Netflix and planned to enjoy the rest of his night. The next day he woke up and shuffled into the bathroom. He looked himself over in the mirror and stood in disbelief that later that night, him, a fat pig, would be at one of the hottest parties on campus. Mike didn't have any class on Friday, so he busied himself by watching TV and playing video games and snacking. When 7 o'clock rolled around he jumped in the shower and got ready for the party.

After drying off, he went into his room and got the pants he was wearing yesterday when Brent asked him to the party. He struggled them on his soft, fat , hairless body jiggling all over like jello. When it came time to button them, he sucked in with all his might. He finally got them buttoned and he let his gut hang over the tight waistband. He threw on the same shirt and got ready to head out.

Mike nervously waddled along the packed streets of campus. People were headed out to the bars, to parties, to hook up, you name it. He sheepishly approach the front steps of Brent's fraternity and prepared himself to enter.

He opened the door and saw a sign saying DJ downstairs. It was super crowded and people were everywhere. As he struggled through the crowd he saw people drinking, smoking weed, doing coke. He had never been in such an environment. Mike grabbed onto the door handle leading to the basement and could faintly hear music.

He opened the door and headed down the creaky wooden old stairs. When he got to the bottom, there was Brent and his girlfriend. There were a couple other guys there with their girlfriends as well.

"Oh look who made it! Its tonight's pig boy." Brent said walking over and flicking Mike's man boob.

"What's going on?" Mike whimpered quietly bowing his head after Brent's insult.

"So listen, you're not actually going to the party, you're part of the party!" Brent said again wrapping his arm around Mike just like he did when he was being friendly in the lecture hall.

"Every so often we like to have a little fun with a pathetic fat-ass loser like yourself. So why don't you strip and we can get started."

"Do I have to? Can I just leave please? I really don't want to do this." Mike begged, looking into Brent's eyes with tears.

"Do it now pig or else something worse is going to happen." Brent said as he pulled out a pocket-knife.

Mike stripped to his boxer briefs as ordered as the people in the basement began to giggle.

"Look at this one's tittys! They just bounce and jiggle all over the place!" said Stacy, one of the girlfriends.

"Yeah we use to wedgie these poor piggies when they tried out for the football team back where I'm from," said Dylan, one of the other frat boys.

When Mike was fully stripped down and his arms were tied securely behind his back, Brent lead him up the stairs. As the door from the basement opened there was a roar of laughter and a flash of light from everyone's phone.

"Okay everybody, let me introduce Mike, he's our honored pig for the night," said Brent.

The crowd swarmed. They slapped, pulled, jiggled all of Mike's soft flabby fat. They wrote things like "fat ass" "pig" "oinkers" etc. all over him with permanent marker. Then, Brent's booming voice echoed out, "Get the scale!"

Mike stepped on and the number flashed back 238. Brent took a red permanent marker and wrote the number across Mike's forehead. He grabbed the bottom roll of Mike's belly and posed for a picture like he had just caught a fish.

The night went on and on and got more and more degrading for Mike. Eventually, they untied Mike and threatened to send the pictures back to his parents. Mike agreed not to tell anyone.

On Monday morning he sank into his seat exhausted and trying to ignore everyone. The faint red 238 mark on his forehead remained. Suddenly, a chubbier girl sat next to Mike and grabbed the top of his hand. She said no words but she pointed to the top of her forehead. Mike could make out the faint 197 in the same red ink.

"You too?