Freshman Year: A Chi Beta Tau Story

Part 8: Fish-cipline

As my semester went, I got into a routine. Weekends would be with Lola, with her taking my ass or (less often) her letting me use the strap on on her. Tuesdays usually would be Reg insisting I fuck his ass with the dildo, leaving a cummy mess on the floor. Classes went as I expected, except for Calculus. I never could get in the routine of the class. The professor was more interested in his research than actually teaching. He would read the book to us in an accent I couldn't identify. Then I'd be working with TA's who were overworked due to the professor's "acumen."

The midterm exam came, and although I though I'd do "OK", I really didn't. I got a C- on it, which I thought wouldn't be a big deal. Less than an hour after grades were posted, I got an email from the Dean's office. I'd always been an A student, but I didn't think a C would merit a visit to the Dean. I asked Reg about it, and when hearing about my grade, his face went ashen. "This is a big deal, Carter," he warned, "Take it seriously."

I got to the Dean's office fifteen minutes early, taking Reg's advice to heart. The secretary looked to be efficient and unassuming, but clearly wasn't one to take any talk-back. "I have a 2 PM appointment with the Dean," I told her. She glared at me, then pointed to a chair against the wall. I wasn't worth a word of her time. I waited, intentionally staying off my phone, trying to be as scholarly as a frat boy could, wearing a button-up shirt and khakis. I didn't want to overdress or underdress. At 2 PM precisely a buzzer on her desk went off and the sent me in.

I entered a large room, with a man standing, back towards me, looking out the courtyard. "Take a seat, Mr. Dworkin," the Dean demanded. I took the spot in front of his desk, sitting on the front of the chair like I did in my college interviews. He walked over to some framed certificates. One was his Ph.D. and the one below it, was the red and black Chi Beta Tau presidency. He was a brother. And he was not pleased with me. He turned to me, and began to speak.

"As one of my Chi Beta Tau boys," he started, "there are certain expectations. Our boys become founders of companies, leaders of industry. It's through no accident. You were chosen because of your scholastic aptitude. And you are expected to maintain it." His index finger pounded on a paper on his desk. "A 'C-' just won't do." He pointed at me. "You are expected to concentrate on your studies." He then pointed to my crotch. "That's the purpose of the red and black locks. Now stand up."

He stood up as well, and opened a desk drawer, revealing a Greek fraternity paddle, red and black, with C, B, and T on it. "Unbuckle your belt and drop your pants and boxers. A little discipline is in order. To get your mind back on your studies." I did as he commanded, standing there with only my cage on between my waist and knees. "And grab your ankles. You will get 26 swats. That's how far you were from a 100 percent. You will count them out loud. And after every one you will thank me."

The large wooden paddle swung, smacking my ass. After the third one I could feel the heat rising from my ass. And I thanked him. After the twelfth one I felt the swelling skin. And after each one I thanked him. It made sense to me. It wasn't just the CBT name. It was the discipline. It was the order. And I had let my brothers down. I counted out, "Twenty-six. Thank you sir." He spent no time walking back to his desk and got out a cloth, polishing his well-used paddle before putting it away.

"I take it we understand each other. You should know Reg will be here later today. I'm sure he will have some 'activities' for you after our meeting. And in the future, speak with your brothers before signing up for Spring Term courses. I know your brothers have an extensive test bank to help with your studying. Now, pull up your pants. I take it we understand each other?" My hands immediately picked up my boxers, pulling them up, and fastening my belt before leaving his office.