Hanging with My Big Bro

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

*****

Author's Note: This is mainly a foot fetish story (at least this part, assuming I write more), so skip it if that's not your thing.

When I had to list five choices for big bro, Connor was easily my first pick. The guy was everything I aspired to be as a fresh-faced 18-year-old pledge: effortlessly outgoing, ridiculously fun, and legendary for his sexual conquests. He was a 22-year-old junior, 6' tall with buzzed black hair and a smile that could charm the skirt off of any girl who walked through the frat house door. He was obviously in good shape, an avid runner with thick, muscular legs; he didn't have the bulging arms or huge chest of a bodybuilder, but he didn't need them to get what he wanted. From the stories the other brothers in the house told, he always managed to get it. That was exactly the kind of reputation I wanted to have a few years into the future. "That guy Ethan? Bro, that guy's a fucking legend!"

Talking to Connor at the rush parties and after I'd accepted a bid, I felt like we had a lot in common. I was 5'11" and had never played sports either, always more fond of running than lifting weights. I was a likable guy too, the type who always had an easy time making friends. The only thing I found myself struggling with was the sheer scale of the social scene on campus. Standing out was easy in the little pond of 600 people that was my high school, but now I was suddenly in a crowd of 40,000. I felt like it was impossible to get noticed.

Pledging the frat seemed like a great start, and I figured Connor would be a perfect mentor, even if that was probably just a pipedream. The frat bro had been friendly with almost all of the pledges in our class; it was tough to imagine that the guy hadn't been a popular choice for big bro among the others. I didn't have a clue how they were even going to decide to pair us up, but I hoped for the best.

When big/little night came, the brothers blindfolded us and led us into a room where they spent an hour fucking around. When the blindfolds finally came off, Connor was standing in front of me with a fifth of tequila. His brown eyes were sparkling, a thin layer of scruff on his face. "Hey, little bro!" he said excitedly, smiling widely as he immediately twisted the cap off the bottle. I was shocked and overjoyed, but I didn't have much time to appreciate that. We did rapid-fire shots of tequila together until the bottle was half empty, and then we were quickly paired up with another big and little for a case race.

"No shotgunning, no tools, and anyone leaving to piss or puke immediately disqualifies your team," the pledge master announced. "It's only 30 beers, you fucking pussies. Let's see how fast you can finish them!" He cracked a can and guzzled it down to start the race, the sound of a couple other dozen beers breaking open instantly reverberating through the room.

I already knew I was going to fuck it up. I'd just come off my two week rotation as a designated driver, doorman, and party monitor--I literally hadn't been allowed to drink at all. My head was already swimming from the tequila, but I tried to give it my best for Connor. I wound up drinking the least anyway, the race called when our team still had six cans left. I heard Connor tsk-tsking me.

"My team won that race the last two years! We're going to have to work on that, little bro," he chided, slurring his words. "You can't be letting me down! We have a reputation to maintain in this house!"

Drinking that much so quickly after two whole weeks dry, I barely remembered the rest of the big/little party when I woke up in my dorm room. The one thing I definitely remembered: Connor was now my big bro. Even though I felt like shit, I still smiled. That guy was going to teach me so much.

***

Now that I'd finished my two weeks of service, I was free to enjoy the house like I was already one of the brothers for the next two weeks. I showed up and spent an hour drinking keg beer, shooting the shit with the guys and the other pledges who were off duty. I spent the whole time quietly looking for Connor, wanting a chance to talk to him without being completely plastered. I finally spotted him walking into the house an hour later. He was wearing a white Vineyard Vines t-shirt, short blue shorts, and a pair of classic Sperrys, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked like he'd been busy.

Connor had immediately started heading toward the staircase that led to his room, but he stopped when he saw me, nodding his head. He walked up, giving me a hard pat on the back. "Yo, Ethan, I had a really long day. Drink some more and come up to my room if you want to hang out tonight. I'm in 310."

"No worries, I'll drink up," I answered. I already knew he was expecting me to improve on pounding beers.

"Cool, man," Connor said flatly, patting me again before disappearing up the staircase.

For a couple minutes, as I slowly sipped the beer in my hand, I felt a little bothered by his seeming indifference. /If you want to hang out/. Did the guy actually want to hang out tonight or was it a snub? I decided the blase invitation was actually a challenge. I'd ranked Connor first and I'd actually gotten my pick, unlike most of the other pledges in the class. Now my big bro wanted me to prove that I was serious about getting to know him better and actually becoming friends. I figured I'd down enough beers to boast about my count and head upstairs to meet him.

I was seven in when I poured my last beer from the keg, and definitely tipsy. I knew Connor was probably going to expect me to drink even more when I went up to his room, so I didn't dare press my numbers any further. I actually wanted to remember this interaction with my new big bro. Quickly draining my eighth beer, I chucked my solo cup into a trash can and climbed the stairs up to the third floor. I hadn't seen this part of the house since I'd toured it during rush, and walking past all the rooms of the upperclassmen, I knew I didn't really belong here as a pledge. That made hanging out with Connor seem even more exciting as I knocked on the door to room 310.

"It's open!" he called.

I turned the knob and walked in, finding Connor sitting at his desk. His room was surprisingly clean, not the collection of crushed beer cans and empty liquor bottles I'd been expecting, the frat's flag and a small paddle bearing the letters hung on the wall. "Hey, man," I greeted, smiling warmly at him.

He closed his laptop as he swiveled toward the door in his chair. "Little bro!" he said enthusiastically, his face lighting up like he was actually happy to see me. "Glad you made it up here! Close that door and lock it behind you."

I did it, even if the request seemed strange. Why did we need the door locked?

"I told Plank to fuck off because we might be hanging out, but his dumb ass might drink half a keg and wander up here anyway trying to fuck some slut," Connor volunteered.

"Plank?"

Connor chuckled. "You haven't heard that one yet? My roommate, Joey, the guy who's like 6'7"."

I'd never actually had a conversation with the guy, but I knew exactly who he meant. "Oh yeah, I've definitely seen him around the house."

"How could you fucking miss him?" Connor asked. "He's a solid head taller than most of the guys here. Doesn't hold his liquor like you'd think though. Sit down!" Connor encouraged, motioning to a small leather recliner that was positioned against the wall next to his desk.

The chair looked like a hapless alcoholic itself, cracked, torn, and stained everywhere with god knows what, but I sat down. "Looks like this thing has been a bro for at least ten years," I joked.

Connor laughed. "Yeah, I got that from your grandbig. Who knows where he got it. Maybe someday you can give it to my grandlittle." He stood up, walking a few paces and grabbing a half full bottle of tequila from the top of a mini-fridge next to his bed, presumably the same one from big/little night. He turned over two shot glasses that were sitting on his desk, opening the bottle and starting to pour. "I was actually supposed to give you this to take home, but I don't think you even remember leaving the house."

"Yeah, it all got pretty hazy after the case race," I admitted. I had no idea how I even made it back to my room that night.

He slid a shot toward me across the desk. "No shit! I had a couple of the pledges take you back to your dorm. And I might have to do it again, because we'll definitely be working on your drinking skills tonight!" He picked his shot glass up and we clinked them together, downing the tequila.

The liquor barely burned after the eight beers I had downstairs, Connor quickly pouring two more shots. Maybe I was just drunk already, but it felt really cool to be hanging out with him one-on-one for the first time ever. We clinked the glasses a second time and swallowed another round.

"Oh yeah, before I drink too much and forget, I have a couple things to give you." Connor stood up again and walked the few steps toward his open closet, rustling things around for a moment. He came back to the desk with a long rectangular box and a small Amazon envelope. He was smiling as he pressed the box toward me first. "Open it."

The packaging made the contents obvious. "It's...a lightsaber?"

Connor could barely suppress his laughter. "Open it!"

I peeled the tape off and opened the box, pulling out a cheap plastic lightsaber.

"From now on, you carry that to class every day until you're done pledging," he said matter-of-factly. "And seriously, don't let any of the brothers catch you without it, because they'll make me give you something way more embarrassing if they do."

I pressed the button to turn it on, the toy making a loud whooshing sound. Extending the plastic "blade," it was glowing blue. "No problem, I can handle that." It seemed silly, but it was harmless compared to most of the hazing stories I'd heard.

"And then there's one more thing," Connor said, grinning as he handed me the envelope.

I reached inside and found a small plastic package. Pulling it out, I quickly realized it was a hot pink thong.

Connor was cracking up, probably reacting to the horrified expression on my face. "Don't worry, I only expect you to wear that to the parties on Fridays," he explained. "And I'm the only one who's going to be checking for it."

That was silly too, even if completely harmless, but the idea of wearing a hot pink thong in a room full of masculine frat bros was infinitely more embarrassing. I knew that was the point. "Yeah, no problem," I agreed.

"Good, little bro!" He seemed satisfied that I didn't have any objections, starting to screw the cap back on the tequila bottle before he looked me in the eyes. "Now, I know you're my little, but you're still a pledge for the rest of the semester. You already have duties to the frat, but occasionally I'll expect you to be useful to me too. You understand?"

I nodded my head. "No worries, I get that." Fetching him drinks or driving him around definitely seemed preferable to being at the beck and call of every brother in the house.

Connor's lips quivered slightly like he was trying not to smile. "Put the tequila back and grab us each a beer then."

I bolted up from the worn recliner, grabbing the bottle of tequila and starting toward his mini-fridge.

"Actually," Connor called from behind me, "bring two for each of us."

The request was totally innocuous, but I felt like I sensed a slight change in his tone. The words were less genial than all the others had been; they were more insistent, almost commanding. Or maybe I was just drunk. I took two ice-cold beers in each hand, 16 ounce cans of PBR, finding my big bro staring at me intently as I plodded the short distance back to his desk, placing two of the beers in front of him. I set mine down at the other end and took my seat again.

"Did I say you could sit down?" he scolded.

I instantly jumped up on my feet.

Connor snickered as he cracked his first PBR open. "I'm fucking with you, bro. Sit down!"

He took a huge swig as I planted myself back into the alcoholic chair, feeling like I was playing Simon Says with the pledge master again. I wondered if Connor had ever been pledge master himself. Maybe he was putting me through his own personal initiation now that I was his little.

"Come on, open your beer!"

Pulling the tab and taking a sip, I felt like I was taking another order. We sat there drinking together in silence for a bit, Connor seeming to intently study my face and occasionally looking me up and down. I really wanted to say something, but his expression convinced me he was the one who would take the lead.

"So, Ethan, I'm really curious, what actually made you want to join the frat?" Connor finally asked.

That was an easy answer for me. "Girls mostly," I admitted. "It's good clout." I genuinely had no idea how to even meet women outside of the frat's parties.

Connor tsk-tsked me yet again. "Girls? We're good-looking guys, man! You don't need to be a brother to pick up chicks, trust me."

Now I wondered what he wanted me to say. Some bullshit about brotherhood? Wasn't it all really about girls in the end?

He chugged at least half his can in two massive gulps, unapologetically letting out a massive belch. "You know, I think I had at least five pledges pick me as their first choice for big bro. You want to know why I picked you?"

I didn't usually feel nervous around other guys, but he was making me really fucking nervous. Part of me worried he'd drop me for someone else if I couldn't satisfactorily answer his questions. I could feel sweat dripping down the sides of my shirt. "You thought I was a cool guy?" I guessed. "You saw something in me?"

Connor laughed, fixing his eyes on mine. "Oh yeah, I definitely saw something. You're a good talker, really attractive--you have that innocent blue-eyed, blond-haired boy next door thing going for you. But you always do seem...a little out of your element, maybe?"

I nodded. Why not be honest about it? "I have no idea what I'm doing here, man. Like, seriously, no idea. You make it look so easy."

"Nothing wrong with that, little bro," he said gently. "You think I stomped around like I owned the place when I was a freshman? Fuck no! I felt the way you probably do."

By now I'd drank most of my first beer. I let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I've definitely found myself looking up to you."

"Aw, how sweet!" Connor teased. "I hope you're still saying that a few weeks from now."

I wasn't sure what he meant, but he didn't wait for me to say anything.

"So why do you really want to join the frat?" he posed again. "You just told me. You look up to guys like me. You want some guidance, some molding. That's why you really want to be a brother. Am I right?"

"Yeah, you're definitely right about that."

"Well, no shit. You think you're fooling me? Girls!" he scoffed. "That's the kind of answer I'd expect to hear from some loser who believes letters are his only chance to get laid. And I know you're better than that from talking to you over the past couple months. You wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't think so."

I nodded. "Thanks, man, I really appreciate that."

Connor stared into me and shook his head. "No, I don't want you to appreciate that. I want you to know that's who you are. I don't make friends with losers. I use the fucking losers around here."

Was he calling some of the guys in the house losers? It flew in the face of all my pledge training. I didn't know if he meant it or if I was supposed to be belting out some rote lines about brotherhood.

"You're cool, Ethan," Connor said, seeing the confusion on my face. "Basically, we can roleplay friends and just get drunk together in the house or we can do the real thing. That's why you came up here, right?"

"Yeah, I definitely want to be friends," I answered.

"Me too." He tilted his beer and drained it, tossing the can into the little trash bin beside his desk. "From now on, I want you to know you can always tell me the truth about anything. Don't worry about all the superficial bullshit around here. Making real friends is way more important than just fitting in and getting laid."

My big bro was finally putting me at ease. "Yeah, that's why I was so excited to hang out without all the other guys around tonight."

Connor smiled. "I figured. I probably would have asked for a second little if you'd stayed downstairs. You can open the second one, you know," he said, evidently picking up on the fact that I was nursing an empty can. "Clearly you need the practice!"

"I drank eight downstairs!" I bragged as I cracked open my second PBR, watching Connor gulp down the rest of his and do the same.

"That's it?" His eyebrows arched up. "I want to see you chug that can, bro. Come on, as fast as you can!"

Wanting to impress him, I gave it my best effort, struggling to empty the 16 ounces of beer as quickly as I could. Connor was chugging too, loudly slamming his empty can down on the desk a full thirty seconds before I finished.

"Man, no wonder you won the case race two years in a row," I muttered.

Connor laughed as he tossed the second empty into the trash. "Don't worry, you'll get better. I'll make sure of that. Go grab us a couple more."

I stood up and trekked back to the mini-fridge, returning again with two cans each. I resented most of the menial stuff the brothers made the pledges do, but taking orders from my big bro felt different. He exuded a sense of entitlement and power that was almost irresistible. No wonder he scored all the time.

"You know, you're really lucky to have me, honestly," Connor said as he opened his third beer. "Not to say that I'm the shit, but a lot of the guys you pledged with are going to be complaining that they barely have a relationship with their big. Most of them don't really take this responsibility seriously, but I do. Your grandbig was a great mentor and basically my best friend until he graduated last year."

I nodded. "Maybe that's one of the reasons I felt so drawn to you all along."

"Yeah? You seemed a little scared of me a few minutes ago," he said, absent-mindedly rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb.

"Dude! You were being so fucking intense compared to every other time we've talked!"

Connor grinned. "Just showing you how to be the boss. Don't forget about that when you have a little of your own someday."

"I think I'm learning already."

"Well, little bro, you still have a shit ton to learn. Don't think you're off the hook already. I still have to haze you a little, don't I?" He smirked devilishly like he already had a plan swirling in his mind.

I wondered if locking the door was about to make sense, imagining myself bent over Connor's bed with my bare ass exposed, the paddle from the wall in his hands. "I guess that's up to you."

"No shit." He stretched his thick, hairy legs out, staring down at his shoes before looking back up at me. "You know, I've been on my feet all fucking day. You ever given someone a foot massage before?"

Looking down, I could see Connor wiggling his brown Sperrys on the sparse carpet. I felt myself wince, not sure whether he was serious or not. "Uh, nope, can't say that I have."

"That's a shame. But you're willing to learn, right?"

The idea of rubbing his feet seemed way worse than the paddle, and I knew that was the point. He wanted me to feel embarrassed and humiliated. But why would he want me touching his body like that? I decided he just wanted to see that I was willing to do whatever he asked, to watch me look uncomfortable down beneath him.

"Right?" Connor demanded more authoritatively, his brown eyes drilling into me.

"Yeah, sure," I offered, desperately wishing I'd already cracked my beer open.