Chapter 1: The Departure
Ryan adjusted his blue tank top one last time, checking himself in the mirror. The fabric clung to his lean frame - sixteen years of ranch work had built muscle, but today would test more than strength. His folded cowboy hat sat ready on the dresser, worn leather that had belonged to his father at the same age.
Downstairs, he could hear his father's booming laugh mixing with his two uncles' voices on the porch. The women's responses were quieter, sharper - disapproving clucks and sighs that said everything about what they thought of today's plan.
"Boys will be boys," his mother's voice drifted up, resigned and tired.
"Hell, we all made it through just fine," Uncle Jake's gravelly voice carried. "Built character."
"Character, my ass," Aunt Sarah shot back. "Y'all just like watching each other suffer."
More laughter from the men. Ryan could picture them now - his father and uncles sharing knowing looks, remembering their own days. The same looks he'd seen in those old family videos, the ones his cousins had shown him last summer. Videos that made his stomach flip and his heart race in equal measure.
He grabbed his hat and headed downstairs.
"There he is," his father called out as Ryan stepped onto the porch. "Ready to join the ranks, son?"
Uncle Jake whistled low. "Damn, Bill, he's bigger than you were. Might actually give the boys some trouble."
"Don't you go easy on him just 'cause he's family," Uncle Tom added, spitting into the dirt. "We sure didn't get any breaks."
Ryan felt their eyes on him, measuring. "I'm ready."
"Ready?" His father laughed. "Boy, you have no idea what ready means yet. But you will." He clapped Ryan on the shoulder. "Your great-granddaddy would be proud. This tradition made Benson men out of all of us."
From inside came his mother's voice: "Made something out of y'all, that's for sure."
The men ignored her. Uncle Jake stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Now listen, Ryan. When it gets rough - and it will - you remember that truck waiting for you. Brand new F-150, sitting right there in Danny's barn. Keys'll be in your hand by sundown if you've got what it takes."
Ryan swung up onto his horse, settling into the saddle. His father handed him the reins with a grin that held equal parts pride and mischief.
"Don't come back till you're a man, son."
"Or don't come back at all," Uncle Tom called out, laughing at his own joke.
The ride to his cousins' ranch stretched long under the climbing Texas sun. Every mile brought back flashes of those videos - the rope burns on his older cousin Mark's wrists, the way Danny had looked half-drowned and completely exhausted by the end. But also their grins afterward, the way they carried themselves different at family gatherings after that.
Ryan's hands stayed steady on the reins. Whatever waited ahead, he'd been preparing for this his whole life.
Chapter 2: The Arrival
The dust cloud from Ryan's horse announced his arrival long before he reached the gate. A crowd was waiting - his three older brothers Jake, Tommy, and Luke spread across the yard, along with cousins Danny, Mark, and Cody by the barn. All of them wearing the same knowing grins.
"Well, well," Danny called out as Ryan dismounted. "Look what the cat dragged in."
"Thought you might chicken out," Mark added, but there was respect in his voice. He'd been through this same ritual three years ago, and the rope scars on his wrists had only faded last summer.
Jake, the oldest brother, pushed off from the fence, circling Ryan like he was sizing up livestock. "Dad said you've been watching the old videos."
Ryan's face flushed. "Maybe."
"'Maybe,'" Tommy laughed, elbowing Luke. "Boy's been studying like it's the SATs."
Cody grabbed Ryan's shoulder, squeezing hard enough to hurt. "Videos don't show you everything, little brother. They don't show the heat, or how your muscles cramp, or what it feels like crawling under all of us while we give you what you deserve."
"Or how much your ass is gonna sting," Luke added with a grin, slapping his own palm for emphasis. The others chuckled.
"But they also don't show how good it feels after," Mark said quietly. "When you know you made it through. When you know you're one of us."
Danny nodded toward the barn. "Truck's waiting, just like Uncle Jake promised. Brand new F-150, cherry red. Keys are right there on the workbench." He paused, letting Ryan look. "All you got to do is earn them."
The truck gleamed in the afternoon sun, chrome bumper reflecting the Texas sky. Ryan had dreamed of driving that truck for months, had imagined himself behind the wheel, windows down, radio up.
Tommy cracked his knuckles. "Hope you stretched this morning, little brother. Gonna be a long day."
"So," Jake said, clapping his hands together. "You ready to find out what you're made of, Ryan Benson?"
Ryan squared his shoulders, hat firm on his head, looking at all seven faces staring back at him. "Let's do this."
Chapter 3: First Binding
"Alright, little brother," Jake said, pulling a length of rope from his back pocket. "Time to see what kind of Benson you really are."
Ryan's heart hammered as Jake moved behind him. The rope was rough against his wrists, tighter than he'd expected from watching the videos. His fingers tingled as the circulation slowed.
"Not too tight," Danny warned with mock concern. "We don't want him passing out before the real fun starts."
Tommy and Luke were already positioning themselves in a line across the dirt yard, boots planted wide. Mark and Cody joined them, leaving gaps just big enough for Ryan to crawl through. Seven pairs of legs, seven grins looking down at him.
"Rules are simple," Jake said, testing the knots one last time. "Crawl under all of us, don't stop, don't complain. We'll help keep you motivated."
"And don't try to go too fast," Luke added. "We want to enjoy this."
Ryan dropped to his knees, the dirt already warm through his jeans. With his hands bound behind him, balancing was harder than he'd imagined. He shuffled forward toward Tommy's legs.
The first slaps caught him as he was halfway under Tommy's stance - both hands coming down hard on his ass. Then Luke's hands as he crawled past, the sharp crack echoing across the yard.
"Come on, Ryan!" Mark called out, bringing both palms down with a satisfying smack. "My grandmother crawls faster than that!"
Each passage brought doubled punishment, four hands working him over as he passed beneath each pair of legs. By the time he reached Danny at the end, Ryan's backside was on fire and his breathing was ragged.
"Not bad for a start," Jake said, hauling him back to his feet. "But that was just the warm-up."
Ryan tested his wrists against the rope. Still tight. Still holding.
"Ready for round two?" Cody asked, already moving back into position.
Chapter 4: Pushups
Jake cut the ropes with his pocket knife, and Ryan's arms fell forward, blood rushing back into his hands with painful tingles. He flexed his fingers, working feeling back into them.
"Don't get too comfortable," Tommy said, tossing the cut rope aside. "Time to see what kind of shape you're really in."
"Drop and give me fifty," Jake commanded, pointing at the dirt. "And I mean real pushups, not that half-ass stuff you do in gym class."
Ryan got into position, his ass still stinging from the gauntlet. The dirt was gritty under his palms, and the Texas sun beat down on his back through the blue tank top.
"One," he counted, lowering himself down.
"That's barely halfway," Mark called out. "Chest to the ground, little brother."
"Two." This time Ryan went all the way down, his chest touching the hot dirt.
"Better," Danny said. "But you got forty-eight more to go."
By ten, sweat was already beading on Ryan's forehead. By twenty, his arms were shaking. The brothers and cousins formed a circle around him, offering commentary.
"Come on, Ryan, my little sister does better pushups than that," Luke taunted.
"Thirty-seven, thirty-eight," Ryan gasped, his form getting sloppy.
"I said real pushups!" Jake barked. "Start over from thirty-five."
Ryan's tank top was soaked with sweat by the time he finally reached fifty. He collapsed face-first into the dirt, chest heaving.
"On your feet," Cody said, hauling him up. "Break time's over."
Ryan stood on shaky legs, wiping dirt from his face. His brothers and cousins were already moving toward the four-wheeler parked by the barn, another length of rope in Danny's hands.
"Ready for the real test?" Jake asked with a grin.
Chapter 5: The Quad Run
"Hands out front this time," Danny said, approaching with the rope. "You're gonna need your balance for this one."
Ryan extended his arms, and Danny wrapped the rope around his wrists, leaving about six feet of slack. The other end was already tied to the back of the four-wheeler where Tommy sat revving the engine.
"Simple rules," Jake called out over the motor noise. "Keep up or get dragged. We're doing three laps around the property."
"How fast?" Ryan asked, testing the rope's length.
Luke grinned. "Fast enough to make it interesting. Nice steady pace - no shortcuts."
Tommy put the quad in gear and started forward at a brisk walking pace. The rope pulled taut, and Ryan fell into step behind, his bound hands making balance trickier than expected.
The first lap took them along the fence line and back past the barn - about seven minutes of steady walking. Ryan's shoulders were already starting to ache from keeping his arms extended in front of him.
"Looking good, little brother!" Mark called out as they passed the porch on lap two.
The sun beat down relentlessly as they continued the circuit. Tommy kept the pace steady but unforgiving - just fast enough that Ryan couldn't relax or catch his breath. Sweat soaked through his tank top, and dust from the quad's tires coated his face.
By the third lap, Ryan's legs were heavy and his bound wrists were chafed from the rope. The twenty minutes felt like an hour, the monotonous pace somehow more exhausting than a sprint would have been.
The quad finally stopped near the barn, and Ryan stood there swaying slightly, his shirt clinging to his back with sweat. His brothers and cousins gathered around, all of them grinning at his condition.
"Not bad," Jake said, cutting the rope loose. "But we're just getting started."
Cody handed Ryan a water bottle. "Drink up. You're gonna need it for what comes next."
Ryan drained half the bottle in one go, the cool water cutting through the dust coating his throat. "What's next?"
Danny pointed to four stakes driven into the ground near the water trough. "Time to work on your tan."Chapter 6: Staked Out
The four stakes were driven deep into the hard-packed dirt, spread wide enough that Ryan would be stretched tight between them. Jake and Danny each grabbed an arm while Mark and Cody took his legs.
"Wait," Tommy said, pulling out his knife. "Can't get a proper tan with that shirt on."
Ryan's eyes went wide as Tommy grabbed the neck of his blue tank top and sliced downward, the fabric parting like paper. Another cut across the bottom, and the ruined shirt fell away, leaving his chest bare to the blazing Texas sun.
"Much better," Luke said with a grin. "Now we can see what we're working with."
They stretched Ryan spread-eagle between the stakes, rope around each wrist and ankle. The position left him completely exposed, unable to move more than an inch in any direction. The hot dirt burned against his back.
"Comfortable?" Danny asked, testing the knots. "Good, 'cause you're gonna be here a while."
Jake disappeared into the barn and returned with a cooler. "Got some special treats for you, little brother." He pulled out a jar of what looked like axle grease, thick and black.
"No," Mark corrected, producing his own container. "We start with this." Motor oil, dark and viscous.
"And then this," Cody added, holding up a bucket of something that smelled like rotten eggs.
Ryan pulled against the ropes, testing them, but there was no give. The sun beat down on his exposed chest, already making him sweat despite the fear coursing through him.
"Time to see what you're really made of," Jake said, unscrewing the jar of grease. "Remember - not a word of complaint. That's what makes you a Benson man."
The first glob of grease hit his chest, warm and sticky, spreading across his ribs as Danny worked it in with both hands. Then came the motor oil, Luke pouring it slowly across Ryan's stomach while Tommy rubbed it into his skin.
"Don't forget his face," Mark called out, and suddenly cool mud was being smeared across Ryan's cheeks and forehead.
For what felt like hours but was probably thirty minutes, they took turns covering every inch of his exposed skin. Grease, oil, mud, something that felt like syrup, and finally the rotten-smelling mixture from Cody's bucket. Ryan lay there taking it all, his jaw clenched tight, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a complaint.
The sun climbed higher, beating down on the mess coating his body. Flies began to buzz around the sweet-smelling substances, and Ryan had to close his eyes to keep them out.
"Look at that," Jake said finally, stepping back to admire their work. "A proper Benson man in the making."
"Think he's had enough sun?" Danny asked.
"Not quite yet," Tommy replied. "Give him another ten minutes to really appreciate the experience."
Those final ten minutes stretched like an eternity, Ryan's skin burning under the coating of filth, his muscles cramping from being held in the same position. But he didn't say a word.
Finally, Jake cut the ropes. "Alright, little brother. Time for round two of the gauntlet."
Chapter 7: Final Gauntlet
Ryan struggled to his feet, his muscles stiff from being stretched out so long. The coating of grease, oil, and mud made his skin feel tight and sticky. Flies still buzzed around him, drawn to the sweet-smelling mess.
"Back where we started," Jake said, pulling out another length of rope. "Hands behind your back, little brother. Time to see if you've learned anything."
Ryan's wrists were raw from the earlier bindings, but he didn't flinch as Jake tied them tight again. The brothers and cousins lined up just like before - seven pairs of legs, seven grins.
"Same rules," Danny called out. "Crawl under all of us. But this time, we know you can take it."
Ryan dropped to his knees in the dirt, now sticky with the substances coating his body. The crawling was harder this time - the grease made his knees slip, and the smell was overwhelming in the heat.
The first slaps came down harder than before, Tommy and Luke working him over with enthusiasm as he passed under their stance. The coating on his skin somehow made each slap sting more, the sound sharper.
"That's it!" Mark encouraged, bringing both palms down with authority. "Take it like a Benson!"
By the time he reached the end, Ryan was breathing hard but his jaw was set with determination. Jake hauled him to his feet one more time.
"Final test," Cody announced, appearing with a cooler full of ice-cold beer cans. "Time to clean you up."
They tied Ryan's hands in front this time, securing them to a post by the water trough. Jake cracked open the first beer and held it high.
"Welcome to the family, brother," he said, and poured the entire can over Ryan's head.
The cold beer was a shock after the blazing sun, washing streams of grease and oil down his body. Can after can followed - Tommy, Luke, Danny, Mark, and Cody each taking their turn, dousing him until most of the filth was washed away.
"There he is," Danny said, cutting the final ropes. "A real Benson man."
Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "These belong to you now, Ryan."
The keys to the red F-150 gleamed in Ryan's palm. He'd made it through. He'd earned them.
Chapter 8: The Celebration
Ryan's hands shook as he slid the key into the ignition of the cherry red F-150. The engine roared to life, and for a moment he just sat there, feeling the power thrumming beneath him. He was filthy - beer-soaked hair plastered to his head, rope burns on his wrists, dirt and remnants of grease still clinging to his skin. But he was behind the wheel of his own truck.
"Don't crash it on the way home!" Danny hollered, slapping the tailgate as Ryan pulled out of the barn.
The drive back to the house was pure freedom. Windows down, radio up, the wind whipping through his hair and drying the beer from his face. Every turn of the wheel reminded him what he'd endured to earn this moment.
The family was already gathering in the backyard when he pulled up - aunts setting out food on long tables, his father and uncles clustered around a massive outdoor screen they'd rigged up for the occasion. His mother took one look at him and pointed toward the house.
"Shower first," she said firmly. "You're not sitting at my table looking like that."
Twenty minutes later, Ryan emerged clean and wearing fresh clothes, a cold beer in his hand courtesy of Uncle Jake. The whole family was assembled now - three generations of Bensons spread across the yard in lawn chairs and on blankets.
"There's our newest man," his father announced, raising his beer. "Ryan made it through, just like every Benson before him."
The screen flickered to life, and Ryan's stomach flipped as he saw himself on horseback that morning, looking nervous and young. Someone had been filming the whole ordeal.
"Oh lord," Aunt Sarah muttered, but she didn't look away.
Ryan watched himself crawl under his brothers for the first time, wincing as the slaps echoed through the speakers.
"Look at him trying to find the knot on his wrists!" Tommy laughed, pointing at the screen where Ryan was twisting his hands behind his back.
"Watch this part," Luke called out as the pushup scene started. "He thought fifty was gonna be easy."
The crowd chuckled as they watched Ryan's form deteriorate, his arms shaking by the fortieth rep.
"And here comes the quad run," Danny announced. "Look at him stumble when the rope goes tight!"
"Run that ass, little brother!" Mark shouted at the screen, getting laughs from the whole family.
But it was the staking scene that really got them going. Ryan's sixteen-year-old brother Marcus sat frozen beside him, face pale as the video showed Ryan stretched between the stakes.
"Watch him squirm in the sun," Cody pointed out, grinning. "Trying so hard not to complain."
"Look at his face when Jake brought out that grease," Jake himself added, causing more laughter. "Thought he was gonna pass out!"
"The flies!" Luke howled. "Remember how the flies kept landing on him and he couldn't swat them away?"
"Breathe, boy," Uncle Tom laughed, noticing Marcus's expression. "Your brother made it through just fine."
"Did I really look that scared?" Ryan asked, watching himself test the ropes around the stakes.
"Scared?" Jake grinned, reaching over to ruffle Ryan's clean hair. "Brother, you looked terrified. But you never quit."
As the video played on, showing his final moments of endurance and his brothers pouring beer over him, Ryan felt something settle in his chest. Despite all their ribbing, there was respect in their voices now. He'd earned his place at this table, in this family, behind the wheel of that truck.
He was a Benson man now.
