The four of us had fucked each other in ritual under Derrick's dictation for a long time. I looked forward to our meetings. Today I was particularly looking forward to it.
We we're meeting in my apartment.
Roy arrived first.
As Roy entered and characteristically took off his nikes with the first step in, I looked at him, his soft dimpled smile and unassuming way, and remembered him as the man who first laid me down.
"Do you remember it," I asked. Roy looked to the exact spot on the floor. "I remember every time," he said. He smiled.
I had moved what little furniture I had to create an open arena suitable for four men to fuck without amenities.
Roy sat on the floor and began doing leg stretches.
Trevor arrived seconds later and let himself in. I knew it was him though I only heard him from the other room come in.
He walked in and looked nervous. Roy saw it too. "Don't tell us you can't ritual," Roy said. "No, I got my pussy. It's Derrick."
"He didn't get pussy?," Roy said. We all knew in order to join the ritual each man had to have 'regular' sex since our last ritual.
"I don't know if he did or didn't," Trevor stammered.
We were the men of ancient Sparta. We did not make love to each other; we ritually stripped naked and fucked under the orders of our leader. We never kissed. We revered semen as essence of power. We had to unload in a woman between monthly ritual, and if we did not we had to sit it out. The only authorized man-fucks outside of the group were one-one recruitment fucks when the group lost a member and we had to restore our number to four which entailed finding a man with our ethos.
Punishments were corporal and restoration from violations often involved the violator being permitted to drink the essence of the others.
"It is worse," Trevor reported. "He has been going to a gay 'gym' and having group sex."
"And worse, he is having a relationship with one of the guys," Trevor revealed.
"How could you possibly know this?" I asked accusingly.
Trevor pulled out his phone. And there was the evidence. A series of posts and messages in a chat room; Derrick's shared pix, a meet up plan, numerous messages...
"How did you find this stuff," I asked more accusingly.
"I just searched for his screen name," Trevor said. He showed a text sent to him from Derrick that contained one word -- the screen name. "Google did the rest," Trevor said.
"Does he know he sent you the text? Does he know you know?"
Trevor said he thought Derrick knew what he was doing and was trying to pick off the weak of the herd.
We all had strayed from our ethos from time to time, but this was something else. Derrick was the enemy within. Right now he was a lie. Who knows for how long.
"What do we do?" I asked.
"He cannot be restored," Roy offered. "He must be made ritually dead to us."
Roy, who had been significantly punished by Derrick for his repented-of sins was pissed.
A moment later Derrick walked in. He came round the corner. He saw us and knew we all knew.
His eyes met Roy's and Derrick turned around to leave. Roy rushed him and shoved him to the ground. I moved between him and the door.
"It's all true," Roy said through clenched teeth, "isn't it?"
Trevor held up his phone and showed Derrick one of the pages.
Derrick said "yes."
"Tie the fucker up," Roy said. Derrick was emotional, but he submitted willingly. "That won't be necessary."
He knew he was about to be "ritually" made dead to the group. He submitted to our authority to punish him for his betrayals, and he knew when he left here in pain he'd never speak to us again.
We brought Derrick to the shower. We stripped him. He was not given the curtesy to even undress himself. He breathed heavily and was afraid of what was to happen but fully consented.
"Turn around, pull up your balls into your hands, lean forward against the wall," I commanded.
Roy handed me Derricks own leather belt.
"I'm ready," he said, and his hairy ass puckered. I doubled the belt over and wailed his ass as hard as I could. He flinched, squealed and panted.
Roy took the belt. Before Derrick had finished recoiling from my blow, Roy landed a crack that made Derrick fall to his knees.
"Please, no more," he pleaded, shivering in pain.
"Trevor is entitled. Are you so little of a man you can't take this that you chose," Roy screamed.
Derrick cried. "I can't. No more."
"Very well," Roy said. "You are so pathetic."
The final stage of the ritual began. Derrick laid in the tub, on his back, with his burning ass down.
"Close your eyes," I told him. He crossed his arms on his chest. I placed a quarter on each of his eyes.
Trevor, Roy and I pulled out our cocks. And together we slowly pissed on Derrick's naked body. The shame overcame him.
When our dicks were drained and out of view I took the wet fifty cents back. I turned the shower to cold and turned it on. The ice cold water mingled with our urine. We watched him wrythe in frigid discomfort.
I turned off the water. He stood up. "I am ready to give Trevor his right," Derrick muttered. As he turned to face the wall, the two long cherry red welted lines across his ass were evident.
Roy scowled. "You pussied out of your third blow. Too late now,"
Derrick, dripping wet, naked and shivering turned back to face us.
He knew the final act that would disown him.
Roy looked Derrick in the eye. "You are dead to me," he said. And then spit in his face.
"You are dead to me," I said and spit in his face.
Trevor followed.
Derrick knelt as we left him, alone. Derrick showered. He dressed and walked stiffly out of my apartment and out of our lives.
The rest of us knew it was time to dissolve this group.
We quietly stripped naked. Kneeling facing each other we stroked until we came in our condoms.
We mingled our essences and divided it into thirds, and drank it. Our group was dissolved, and we each were charged with forming three "new spartan fours".
