Rushing Craig
by soleman17

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It was the start of a new rush. The fraternities were already filled with testosterone-pumped men.

Freshmen were looked under a microscope, having every detail inspected. Facebook pages were searched. Family trees were searched. Past relationships were searched. If you weren’t on a varsity team or the son of a brother, you had little chance of getting into any fraternity. I went through hell and back rushing last year. The brothers made us chug warm beer, paddled us, and used us as footrests while the watched the football game on their 52” TV and ordered us to bring them another beer.

I was lucky to be in a fraternity. My father was a huge donor, so I had to be inducted despite being only 5’8”, and barely able to do a pull-up. The brothers saw me as a weak link in their chain of command. The dregs at the bottom of the barrel that they took only to get more beer money from my father. Thankfully there was a new class of freshmen for them to pick on.

There were freshmen from the football team, the swim team, the basketball team and the track & field team. All of them tall, tan, and built. Even though I was the brother and they were the freshmen looking for bids, I felt intimidated. Some of them weren’t going to make it to the varsity team. They wouldn’t be receiving bids. But some of them were terrifying. The football players were like brick walls. The swimmers had perfect muscles and piercing eyes. But most intimidating of all were the basketball players.

All of them were at least 6’ tall. The tallest was Craig. Craig stood at a terrifying 7’3”. Covered in muscle that were outlined by his tailored shirt and pants, he was a giant. Mammoth size 19 dress shoes (which I would learn soon enough) burst from the legs of his pants.

When we made the freshmen drink 5 galleons of warm beer in an hour, Craig drank one all by himself. When they had to run chasing a car. Craig carried another freshman that tripped and twisted his ankle. (So much for that kid’s bid...). All the brothers liked what they heard when they talked to him about his past relationships, his interest in muscle cars, and the obscene affluence of his family. When we gave out bids, he was the first one we found. He immediately accepted, and smirked at me, looking down the foot and a half separating us. I realized in that moment that having Craig as a rich, athletic, and well-liked brother was not going to be good for my position as the rich dork.

Craig gave $500 for our first party to buy alcohol. That was normally my job. It was strange. It was almost like he was already initiated and I was the freshman instead. At the party, all the sorority sisters talked to him at least once, instantly enchanted with his looks. At one point he told me to go grab him another beer. I gave him a look, but he stared at me. Another brother, a senior, pushed me in the back, and told me “Go get him the damn beer.”The brothers had a replacement for me to buy them stuff. Soon they weren’t ordering the freshmen around. It was only me. The freshmen just watched and laughed. Soon they would be brothers too, and they could order me around. Craig wasn’t patient enough to wait.

It was the Hell Week Dinner, the formal occasion when all of the freshmen bring dates to a formal dinner the week before they are initiated. Craig told me to come help him get ready. When I walked into his room, he was already wearing his shirt and tie, and incredibly long slacks that would have gone halfway up my chest. He looked at me, turned back to the mirror and said “Clean those.” I looked down to where he was pointing to see his enormous size 19 dress shoes, the same ones he wore during rush, in front of his closet.

“I don’t see anything to clean them with.” I told him.
He just looked back at me and said “Then you are going to lick them clean.”

My jaw fell open. He was acting like a brother talking to a freshman. I held no standing in his eyes. He knew the other brothers wouldn’t care if he treated me like shit. I was trapped.

“Now!” He snarled, as I hadn’t moved. “And I better see my reflection in them before we leave in half an hour.”I walked over to those shoes staring at them. As I got closer a giant’s hand threw me down onto the ground, and while I knelt there on all fours, I felt a giant warmth on my back, pushing me down onto those dusty black shoes. He stepped on my back, not even letting me hold the shoes to clean them. I would lick them on the floor.

I started licking. I had no other choice. The only reason the brother kept me around was for their own amusement, and they all loved Craig. He could have me kicked out in a second if I didn’t do what he said. They tasted like dirt. Fortunately these were shoes he only wore on occasion, so it wasn’t that bad. Still it didn’t help when he pulled up a chair, and sat their with his feet resting on my neck waiting for me to clean his shoes. It was the longest half hour I could remember. I cleaned the tops, the sides, and when I was done those, he turned the shoes over and told me to clean off the bottoms. It was humiliating. I had barely finished when it was time to go and my tongue was sore. He inspected them, kicked me in the side knocking me over and said “You are going to pay for not doing a good enough job later.” Then he started putting on his shoes without socks. He wasn’t going to wear socks to a dinner where he would be sitting in hot stuffy clothes for almost 3 hours. I gulped in fear.
At the dinner, Craig told the brothers about how I cleaned his shoes for him, and they all laughed. One brother leaned over and said I would be doing that for all of them next time. That’s around 50 shoes. When all of the dates were going home, Craig looked at me and said “Time to go bitch. You’re coming with me for that punishment.”

We got back to his room, and as soon as he closed the door, he shoved me to the ground. “Take off these giant 19s, maggot. And don’t forget to thank me for giving you the privilege of touching them.”

I quietly said thank you, and untied those huge containers for his giant, sweaty, otherwise bare feet. He forced me to futilely pull at his leg so I could pull off the shoe, and finally with a laugh lifted his leg up on his own.

The smell was amazing. It reeked of manliness and power. I went to go take off the other shoe when he said “No way bitch. Not a drop of my sweat is going to touch the ground. Lick my foot clean first.”

He sat down in his chair, with his now-bare foot on the ottoman, staring me in the face. I sat frozen. With the other shoe, he kicked me in the head, jolting me to attention. I leaned forward into the sweaty toes and started licking. From sole to toe, sole to toe, again and again, sweat rolled down my tongue. I licked the sides, the tops, and between all of his toes. I even sucked on those finger-long toes when he ordered me to. Then it started all over again with the second shoe. I had never felt so low.

When both feet were clean, he had me lay down on the floor, legs under his chair, and he stood with both feet on my chest, his heels at my navel and toes under my chin. He towered above me, all 7 feet 3 inches. I was a bug for him to squash. When I finally resigned to my place, he sat back down, and placed his feet onto his new ottoman’s face. I didn’t move. I just laid there. He would get bored and rub his feet on my face, shoving my nose between his raunchy toes. Then he would go back to just sitting their, basking in his own glory. After two hours of just sitting there, he demanded a massage, and I had to rub those rough soles, using both hands just to wrap around the giant’s foot. After an hour of rubbing he fell asleep.

I continued to lay there. I licked his feet a little bit more, rubbed them some more and feel asleep as well, under the size 19 feet of Craig, the 7’3” giant that replaced the weakest link in my fraternity's chain of command.

To be continued?