Make the Fraternity Great Again
The Sigma Fraternity was already the most preppy and conservative on campus. Oxford shirts tucked in tight, V-neck sweaters, club ties knotted perfectly, chinos crisp, tassel loafers or boat shoes for the relaxed days.
All the members were handsome, well-mannered, patriotic, arrogant, with that perfect jock edge. But they were still… too soft. Too messy in their heads. Too thoughtful.
Then Tyler arrived. He was just another new recruit at first. A former high school quarterback, tall, broad-shouldered, with that slightly dumb but extremely charming jock smile. Pure American, raised on red meat and red hats.
During his initiation, they made him watch the video for the first time. He walked out of the room with the same idiot smile as everyone else, but something different burned in his eyes; raw ambition.
In just a few months, Tyler climbed every rung of the ladder. He was more driven, more charismatic, more… dominant. He quickly became President of the Fraternity. He didn’t miss a single chance to fuck every member to secure their vote. The brothers cheered. They didn’t realize they had just crowned their own king and started a new cult.
Tyler had much bigger plans.
“We’re not just going to be preppy,” he announced at his first meeting as President. “We’re going to be MAGA. Real MAGA. Arrogant. Proud. No filter. Conservative jocks who think with their dicks and their country.”
He reworked the initiation video. Made it longer. Deeper. Words like “flag,” “values,” “strength,” “conservatism,” “worship,” “obedience,” “hierarchy,” “dumb,” “powerful,” “discipline,” “loyalty,” and “patriot” were now burned deep into the brains of anyone who watched it. These concepts became as essential as eating and drinking. But he never forgot the most important part; the overwhelming urge to convert, conquer, assimilate, conform, transform, and spread… by any means and through every possible form of pleasure.
When a brother stared at the spiral for too long, he would start drooling. Mouth open, eyes empty, that stupid, sexy smile on his face. At that exact moment, he was ready. A deep kiss, a sloppy blowjob, or a raw fuck would do the rest. After that, the brother became arrogant, obsessed with his uniform, obsessed with America, obsessed with obeying Tyler.
The four you see in the photo fell one by one. Connor, the blond in the navy sweater. Tyler made him watch an extra-long session of the video. Connor was already drooling, eyes glazed. Tyler shoved his tongue down his throat, then pushed him to his knees. Connor sucked like a good boy, MAGA cap already on his head, moaning “Make America Great Again…” between every slurp. When he stood up, his eyes had changed. More arrogant. Dumber. Happier. He’s now much more dedicated to being a good Christian and spreading the values of his New God.
The second was Ethan, the one with the beige sweater tied around his shoulders. Tyler put the spiral on his phone and kissed him until he was drooling heavily. Then he fucked him against the lockers, both of them still fully dressed, ties and all. Ethan came screaming “Yes Sir… MAGA Sir…” and woke up the next morning with the red cap screwed onto his head and a permanent smile.
The third was Ryan, the blondest one, wearing the yellow tie inside the sleeveless navy sweater. He used to be the smartest of the four. Tyler saved him for last. He made him watch the video for a full hour until Ryan was drooling like a bitch in heat. Then Tyler slid his cock into his mouth and let him suck until saliva ran down his chin. Ryan swallowed everything, eyes rolled back, and stood up whispering “I’m a good MAGA jock… I’m yours…”
The last one, John, in the light blue seersucker jacket and club tie, became Tyler’s official boyfriend. He was still a little liberal even after his preppy transformation. Tyler wanted to make an example of him. Now there’s no point arguing with John. Either he’ll seduce you and fuck you right in front of the spiral, or… he’ll find another way. He’ll turn you into a perfect MAGA. He only swears by red now.
Now, all four of them are exactly how Tyler wanted them.
They stand proudly in front of the MAGA 2028 banner, red caps firmly in place, eyes empty but arrogant, smiles dumb and sexy. Their uniforms are flawless, but their minds are completely blank. They think only about America, the Fraternity, obeying Tyler, and converting more boys.
Tyler looks at them with a big, dumb, excited grin.
The four answer in unison, voices slow and full of stupid pride;
“Yes Sir… Make America Great Again…”
The Fraternity is no longer just preppy.
It is now MAGA.
And Tyler is its undisputed king.
