Josh's Halloween Binge
First mass vore story that I promised almost a whole year ago! Happy to finally deliver. There will be a part two to this tomorrow---just you wait! Hope you enjoy, and leave tips/suggestions if you have any :)
The amber liquid rushed down Josh’s long throat for the umpteenth time that night. If Josh was honest with himself, he didn’t like partying that much, which was probably why he went so hard on the alcohol. Chucking the last beer can in his overflowing trash can, Josh let out a hefty belch and got up, feeling dizzy already. The sloshing of the golden beer in his gut was noisy, and it made the jock giggle slightly upon hearing it. Lifting up his shirt, a slight swell of his tummy revealed just how much he had drunk in the past hour. A rough hand caressed the underside of his belly, realizing that he didn’t eat anything to soak up all that booze. With a hiccup, he rifled around in his room for some protein bar or some leftover snack he had lying around, but he knew it was a fruitless endeavor. Josh rarely lets food just sit around in his room for long.
The young man belly-flopped onto his plush bed, wriggling around on the sheets with the dramatics of a whining puppy. He could probably abscond with something from his neighbor Blake if he asked, but the two weren’t that close, and it’d be kind of awkward. They were friendly and cared for each other like brothers, (the hazing traditions for SAE would do that to you) but the two tended to stick to their own circles mostly. Josh maneuvered to a position where his upper body hung off the side of the bed, peering under his mattress in hopes that some mouse had stored a treasure trove of food for him to find and eat. Alas, nothing. However, the sound of someone clearing their throat made Josh stand up like an attentive watchdog.
“Hey, uh Josh? You busy?”
“No, no I’m just…” the frat boy slurred his words, “Heyyyy John, buddy. Happy Halloween, it’s good to—UUUUUURRRRRPPPP—see you. How’ya been man?”
John stepped into the room, crushing a beer can under his feet. With a pursed grin, he recognized the source of Josh’s inebriation. Flicking his eyes to the rest of the floor and trash can, John dared a question: “Hey, bro, how much have you had to drink?”
“A little—*hic*—why?”
“Nevermind, hey could you help me out? I’m trying to paint myself to be a skeleton but it’s kinda hard to paint yourself. Could you help?”
“Sure buddy, come on, let's go to the bathroom first.”
Josh stumbled up and nearly fell back onto his bed if John hadn’t rushed over to catch him. The frat boy patted his little on the chest, pausing for a moment when he realized John was shirtless.
“Damn, buddy. You been workin ou—*hic*—without me?”
“We hit legs this morning, Josh. Are you okay? How much did you drink?”
“Ohh yeahhh, I remember!” He didn’t. “Come on, let’s go beef cake!”
The two waddled into the messy bathroom and flicked on the yellow fluorescents. Josh plucked the little tub of black paint and paintbrush from his little and swept a bunch of junk around the counter to make space. Josh lifted his freshman pet up onto the counter and pulled him close by the lower back so he could paint his face easier. John was blushing at the overt display of dominance, but he didn’t say anything. Josh was drunk—that’s why he was acting so weird.
“What are you going for here? A skelling..ton?”
“Yeah bro, could you just finished the skull?”
Josh leaned in with the paintbrush in hand. He rubbed the label slightly, reading it as non-toxic. As he made small, subtle brush strokes on John, his mind began to be filled with an odd feeling. John smelled incredible. He had a natural scent that vaguely reminded him of BO and beef jerky—two things Josh was very familiar with. There was also a hint of something else, nebulous, like pheromones or sex. Josh couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he put his nose on it instead. Leaning close towards his pledge, Josh took a deep with a groaned with delight.
“Fuck, man. You smell fucking incredible.” Josh hadn’t realized it, but his bloated gut was pressing against John’s crotch, adhering to his soft member almost like a fleshlight.
John could feel himself twitching to life in his groin. He knew it wasn’t allowed to fuck a brother during pledge season, and though they rule was broken almost universally, John was a bit of a goody-two-shoes. He scooted his but back on the counter. Unfortunately, Josh gripped John’s hips and pulled him right back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Josh had angled John’s hips to be perpendicular to Josh’s. The pledges' legs were spread out around Josh, and if not for clothes, there was dangerously little space between Josh’s cock and John’s hole. Josh leaned in again to smell John, groaning lightly and gripping his little by the hips possessively. John tried leaning away, but Josh pulled him in closer. Somewhere along the lines, the paint tub had been set down across the counter, out of reach to John. Josh’s advances were indefensible. The frat boy ran his nose from John’s neck down to the swell of his pecs, down his curled abs, to between his legs, dusted with hair. John couldn’t say a word, as his membership to the frat rested almost solely on Josh, and Josh was too drunk for him to see that what he was doing was insane.
The brown-haired jock teased John’s waistband, pulling it down slightly to reveal a hefty cock, already leaking. John tried to explain himself—Josh was being delicate, just like a girl, so his cock naturally thought he was getting some, and plus his belly felt almost like a girl’s hand with how soft it was, and—John’s entire body tensed. Josh had wrapped his lips around John’s girth cock, swirling his wet tongue around his mushroom head passionately. Josh’s mouth was warm, inviting even. John was only a man, and a real man never said no to getting head. Maybe Josh was testing him? Regardless, a shiver went up his spine as the fratboy bobbed his head, taking in more of his cock with ease. Most girls would’ve gagged at this point, but evidently, Josh could take really big things down his throat with ease.
John didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help himself. He slowly raised his hand and placed it in the back of Josh’s head, pressing lightly to make him take more of his cock. If this went poorly, he’d be kicked out in seconds; however, Josh didn’t seem to notice. John dared to press a little harder, making Josh go all the way down. The jock kept on sucking, wrapping his tight throat around his member and swallowing, as if he wanted more inside him. John hadn’t ever felt this good before. Josh’s warm, wet, tight throat massaged his shaft brilliantly, making loud slurping and sucking noises all the while. The little spread his legs a little farther apart and rested his other hand on Josh’s soft hair, now face-fucking his senior brother.
Josh moaned with want, his hands gripping John’s hefty thighs as he tried getting a load out of his little. The dude smelled incredible, and when Josh got between his legs, the dude’s musk was enticing as a wedding cake. Josh couldn’t help himself. He didn’t even care that his inferior had placed his hands in his head and guided his lips deeper down this surprisingly massive shaft. All Josh wanted was to be filled—to stop feeling this hunger. He redoubled his efforts, vacuuming his cheeks so they too would stimulate the sensitive cock he found himself wrapped around. That seemed to have quite an effect on the pledge, as John gripped his head by either side and began ferociously pounding into the frat boy, skull-fucking him with wild abandon. Few things are as primal as a man about to ejaculate—Josh knew this, so he let it happen, wanting something substantial in his gut.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” John roared, bottoming out in Josh’s mouth and feeling his balls contract as they pushed the load out of his dick. The heavy white liquid gushed down Josh’s throat, coating it in the warm, sticky substance. It felt like eating pudding left out in the sun for too long, Josh thought, but swallowed greedily anyway. Just as he was about to pull off, John pushed his head back down, still having cum to eject. Josh continued swallowing, his eyes growing wider and wider as his little spurted an inordinate amount of baby batter into his throat. Josh began rubbing his growing belly, feeling it bulge heavily with John’s semen. After several minutes, John let go, his chest rising and falling in heavy pants as he felt Josh pull off from his dick with a loud pop! Then, as Josh rose up, his larger belly in view—all John’s fault—the reality of the situation hit him.
“Josh, dude. I’m sorry, I don’t know what just happened. I’ve had a bit to drink tonight, I didn’t mean to…”
Josh felt strangely calm. The only thought he could find coherently was that he was still hungry. And John still smelled good. Maybe it was the drunken haze, maybe it was the lustful haze, maybe it was the horror in the air coming with the season, but Josh shook his head to comfort John. Then, in a quick motion, John’s world went dark, the last thing he saw being a pink, fleshy tongue and two rows of gleaming teeth.
Josh walked out of the bathroom completely unsure of what happened. He imagined John had gone out to get some more paint, as he had forgotten where he placed it (it was right in front of him the whole time, of course, but Josh didn’t think to look anywhere, really. The jock nearly fell over, grasping onto a nearby bureau for support but clattering various picture frames and keepsakes to the ground. Looking down, Josh immediately assumed the reason for why he was so off balance: his belly.
To call his stomach huge would be an understatement. The jock marveled at his belly, gurgling with pure, elated delight. He’d never felt his belly sound so happy before, if that’s what you would call this. He knew John’s load was huge, but this was insane, and he’s never swallowed a dude’s load that made his stomach…move? Something was squirming in his stomach, writhing around like a fish out of water. If Josh wasn’t so engrossed in how incredible it felt, he would’ve been much more attentive as to what was going on. His cock was at half mast, slapping between his thighs as if he had just came several times and was drained of baby batter, but he remembered nothing. Josh rubbed his engorged tummy and lifted himself up, careful to make sure his newfound belly wouldn’t knock over anything. Step by step, Josh wobbled his gut forward, pushing it through the doorway and beginning his trek down the hall to find John. Fortunately a cracked door had golden light flowing from the crevice. The big-bellied jock wondered if he could find John over there.
Pushing himself in belly-first, Josh found Enrique, another pledge, smearing fake blood over his bare torso. Josh cleared his throat and let out a small belch.
“Hey bro, have you seen John? I lost him after…” The jock trailed off as Enrique turned around, eyes widening as his eyes lowered to Josh’s midsection, definitely seeing the bulge of a handprint that Josh failed to notice. Enrique stepped back in fear, but Josh took that as an invitation to step in and close the door behind him.
Enrique raised his hands as if to pacify the drunken frat boy, “Josh, I don’t know where he is, but please don’t get any closer. This’ll all be okay… alright?” The poor pledge didn’t know if this was all some weird hazing ritual—getting locked up in Josh’s gut, but he didn’t want to find out.
Josh wiped a bit of drool that seeped out the corner of his mouth, moistening his lips for a meal his body was apparently anticipating.
“Nah, buddy, you’re all good. By the way,” Josh pointed to a beer on the counter, “you gonna finish that?”
Completely frozen in fear, Josh reached forward, belly pressing up against Enrique and pinning him to the bathroom counter. Josh downed the fizzy liquid and set the can back onto the marble finish. Then, it was faint, but he caught a whiff of Enrique’s scent—most likely a byproduct of the fear Josh was causing. Josh leaned in, and the rest was quite hazy.
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Josh awoke with something enormous in his mouth. Having always been taught to finish his food, the greedy man swallowed, feeling a hefty bit of movement coming from his gut, which had nearly quadrupled in size since whenever he had met with Enrique. Josh looked around, choking down the last bit of food, tracking the massive piece of meat—Josh wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but it tasted magnificent—down his throat and into his expanding belly, which he felt two pairs of hands rub over. Tracing the hands up, Josh was met with two more of his pledges, both sweating profusely and entertaining a frenetic look in their eyes. Something in his engorged belly kept trying to squirm around, and these boys kept pushing it in, making sure Josh’s stomach stayed a perfect sphere.
“What the fuck is happen—“
“Okay guys, I found another one,” Blake flung open his door with a chunky man in a headlock. He was pounding his fist against Blake’s bicep to no effect. Blake tightened his grip.
Josh looked again, analyzing his surroundings. Somehow, he had made it to Blake’s room. The room’s floor was layered in a pile of clothes that Josh was fairly sure didn’t belong to Blake. He even thought he saw the shirt that Enrique was wearing, and there seemed to be a pair of ripped jeans that Marco had always loved to wear, but they looked waterlogged and crumpled. Blake must get hella play, Josh thought.
“Josh, buddy! How’s it going? How’re you feeling?”
Josh sputtered, completely lost on what was going on. He tried getting up, but his gigantic gut completely threw his weight off balance, and he only could manage to wobble slightly in his drunken state.
“Blake? What’s going—UUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP—on? Why’re Benson and Rafiq…rubbing my gut? The fuck happened to my abs?”
Blake caressed Josh’s gut, making the stud moan softly. His belly was very sensitive, and rubbing it felt practically equivalent to masturbation. Josh crumpled the sheets in a white-knuckled fist as Blake continued touching him in just the right way.
“Don’t worry about that, bro. Hey, you and I should hang out more, okay? Just mull on that and go back to sleep, yeah?”
Josh nodded, unsure why he was following these directions, but all the alcohol in his system made sleep feel like a tantalizing mistress right now. Josh felt his eyelids getting heavy and his throat open wide for something huge being pushed inside. Instinctually, the man gulped, then, against all odds, he found himself back asleep.
Eyelids fluttered open, and the first thing the stud could think of was how incredible he felt. As his eyes adjusted to the darkened surroundings, Josh recognized the torn couches and the walls decorated in old wine boxes and beer decals. An obnoxious “Saturdays are for the Boys” flag hung on the far wall. Josh tried getting up but failed miserably. Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, Michael’s—the frat president—harsh voice seethed throughout the living room.
“How the fuck did we let this happen? How did one frat member cancel Halloween? I was supposed to get some tonight,” the business major lamented, pushing both of his hands on a tanned mass in the center of the room.
“Are you sure we can’t get them out? They’re all moving pretty hard in there. Maybe if we just…”
“Dude, don’t! We already lost Trent that way. Let this be a lesson to all of you: never over do it on the alcohol!” Michael boomed, rage prominent on his handsome face.
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Josh tugged something that had risen out from his throat, though it didn’t feel like food. A raggedy t-shirt had inexplicably come up from his belch. He pulled the spit-slicked fabric from his mouth and used it as a napkin, wiping his face off, which only made it wetter, smearing his spittle all over himself. Josh let out a giggle at the realization.
“Oh good. The fatass is awake,” Michael scoffed, looking over and pushing on the mass extra hard, which Josh realized was attached to him.
“Michael? What’s up dude?” Josh felt hazy everywhere, but several strong forces were pushing against some faraway part of him, which felt like a full body massage. Looking down, Josh realized what was happening. His belly—bigger than him, bigger than anyone, bigger than his whole family—was a writhing mass in the middle of the living room. Josh could make out several legs and feet, heads that were thrashing about locked inside his belly. As the jock focused, he could feel the sensations of them moving around all inside his belch-tank, pleading for their lives as his gut groaned and churned like an industrial machine. Josh moaned in ecstasy as his mind-fog cleared and the unadulterated pleasure swept him up in a blaze of heavenly bliss. The frat boy belched and rubbed his belly, unable to even reach the peak of his gut, bloated and happily rumbling over the human-shaped masses he had in there.
“What’s up?” the senior repeated, a vein bulging from his neck. “What’s up, Josh? That’s all you have to say for yourself? What the fuck did you do?!” The man shouted at the top of his lungs, scaring the dozen other frat members that were rubbing Josh’s belly. Then, answering his own question, still in a fiery ire, Michael screamed, “You ate the entire fucking pledge class! You swallowed all of them whole! What the fuck were you thinking?!”
The room was quiet, save for Josh’s belly, shifting and moving as if it were alive, which, technically, there was a great deal of life inside the dude’s gut. Josh belched low and slow, letting out a great deal of oxygen for his belly’s residents. The squirming picked up, and Josh tried to contain his arousal, but he couldn’t help but subtly dry hump his own pledge-packed gut. Josh rubbed his hands slowly on the carpet beneath him. Somewhere along the lines he had parked himself in the middle of the living room, and now his brothers were all rubbing his gut, for some reason. Josh asked, suppressing a burp, “Why’re you guys rubbing my belly? It feels fucking fantastic, don’t get me wrong, but why didn’t you try to…get them out?”
Michael nearly burst a blood vessel when he shrieked, “We fucking tried! But you ate Trent! He’s in there with the pledges now, fucker!”
“Oh,” was all Josh could respond with. He smacked his lips, trying to remind himself of these events, looking down at his belly and seeing a particularly bulky shape in his behemoth stomach, which he wondered if that was Trent.
“Okay, come on now, Josh was just drunk. He’s not even gonna remember this in the morning,” Blake’s charming voice piped up. He appeared right next to Josh with several gallon jugs of water, patting his suite-mate on the shoulder and winking at him. Josh managed a weak smile in return, thankful he had at least one guy on his side. He was thankful, too, for the seventeen guys in his gut, too.
Josh was about to add in on the conversation, but Blake knew better than to let the drunk douchebag try to defend himself, so he attached one of the water jugs to Josh’s lips, and in an instant he locked in on the sensation of swallowing, gulping, and opening his throat to let the water cascade into his belly. It was almost scary, Josh realized after finishing, how the time had just become a blur when he was downing that water. He could only imagine what it was like to swallow his pledges whole.
“‘Just drunk’ doesn't result in a brother eating the entire fucking pledge class, Blake! What the hell are we gonna tell the dean, or will Josh eat him too?”
Blake tilted his head and shrugged as if he was considering the idea. Michael shook his head with disgust. “Dude, lay off him. Put him on probation or something, but you gotta understand where bro was coming from. We’ve all wanted, and some of us have, eaten a pledge before, right?” Blake looked around and some of the frat members nodded guiltily, while others looked down and blushed. “Josh was the only one man enough to take ‘em all. I say that’s pretty commendable!”
Josh opened his mouth again to speak, but Blake didn’t want his toes to be stepped on, so he was instead met with another gallon of water, glugging it down like his life depended on it. When he finished funneling the liquid that didn’t even make a dent in increasing his stomach, he frowned, again realizing that every time he had something near his mouth he didn’t want to stop until it reached the pits of his gut.
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Michael was still enraged, but Josh’s smooth talking and the brothers’ quiet agreement with Blake made him step down, just a bit. He seethed quietly, spitting, “If this mother fucker ever pulls something like this again, he’s out. And no more drinking for him anymore. We can’t have something like this happening again. And he needs to go to the doctor tomorrow. This can’t be good for him.”
Blake feigned a fawning motion. “Aw, you still care for your wittle bwother,” he cooed in a baby voice. “Don’t worry, once he wakes up for real, I’ll send him over to the clinic. Poor dude’s gonna have one helluva hangover tomorrow.”
It already was tomorrow. Josh had woken up at around 1:12 AM of November first, which was still Halloweekend for the frat and all of Greek life. He looked around at his brothers and felt pretty guilty—exacerbated by the fact that he was fairly sure he wasn’t going to remember any of this tomorrow. However, his guilt didn’t stop him from moaning into his forearm as he felt a dozen pairs of hands knead and push his belly—and the boys he swallowed whole—into submission. Loud, wet gurgles resonated from his tan, spherical, titanic gut that squelched and bubbled around the fresh meat it was trying to digest. Inside, the textured lining of Josh’s stomach squeezed John, Enrique, Benson, and over a dozen others as they became a tangle of limbs and body parts all becoming equally coated in juices for Josh to have an easier time digesting. They spoke to each other frantically, wondering how this single frat boy had the stomach capacity and ability to swallow each and every one of them whole down his greedy throat and into his accommodating gut.
Blake patted Josh’s gut and gave him more water to chug. It was mesmerizing at this point, watching Josh’s throat bulge out and contract with each swallow as he gulped the water down. Blake had a hand in feeding Josh almost all of the pledges, but nobody needed to know that. He didn’t care much for the lot of them this year anyway. The scene played out slowly for hours, until Josh fell back asleep and the rest of the brothers, exhausted from having to take care of the stud’s gut for hours instead of getting wasted on Halloween, retreated to their rooms, eyes still widened in shock at what Josh had done. It was awful, sure, but everybody secretly envied Josh. Some of them even envied the pledges, though that was between them and their dicks, which they would be ferociously pumping at the thought of being the next meal for the greedy jock.
At around three, it was just Josh and Blake, still rubbing the belly which had grown just a little smaller, all of the occupants squished even closer together in the sweltering belly. Josh continued trying to dry-hump his belly, but he didn’t want to be too obvious. Inside, John, who was at the bottom of Josh’s gut, could feel the pred’s rock-hard shaft poking into him like it had done so before. Very vaguely, Josh recalled fucking John before stuffing him down his throat, and he was somewhat sure that he had done the same with Enrique, but his balls could already go for a sixth…seventh round? It was hard to recall how much cum he had dumped into the two pledges.
“So…” Blake started, “feeling full?”
“Bbbbbooouuuurrrrrrpppppppp—a little, though I could still probably fit Michael in here.”
“You don’t mean that, buddy. Imagine how he feels. He’s gonna have to explain to the dean, probably the police, everybody what happened. A lot of the pledges this year were legacies to Sigma Alpha—their dads might understand, but they’re probably going to want a word with you. Think you can handle a bunch of seasoned preds like that?”
Josh belched and smirked, wondering if the next time he would be able to remember eating all of the guys. He imagined the flavor of a particular guy may run in the family. Impossibly, his stomach growled, telling Blake everything he needed to know.
“Jesus man, well alright. C’mon, let’s get you up to my bed. I’m gonna keep a close eye on you tonight just to make sure all that booze isn’t having a…more adverse effect on you, though I think the damage is done. You cool with that?”
“I don’t think I can get up for a bit.”
“We seriously have got to hang out more, man. Come on, I’ll help you.”
