The Blueberry Frat
Meet Dalton, a new member of his second-pick fraternity. Rush Week is finally done, and the blue is finally fading from his skin, a trademark of the Beta Lambda Upsilon brothers. Dalton is folding his pants after laundry and notices the ripped trackpants stained dark purple, and he smiles. He feels the tent pitching itself in his basketball shorts and thinks back to that final night of Rush. A dozen freshmen had pledged to BLU at the start, but eight of them had either dropped to focus on their studies or failed to meet the standards set by the chapter president, Mark.
---
Dalton walks up the stairs of the grand house. Marble columns support a roof of blue tiles that matches the shade of the shutters and trim of the otherwise lavender building. He knocks seven times and turns away from the door. If the brotherhood still wants him, they’ll answer the door silently and bag him, taking him, who knows where, to the initiation. One breath escapes his lips as the night air of fall descends from brisk to chilly. A second breath escapes and the wind blows a handful of leaves across the pavement that leads from the sidewalk to the front porch. As Dalton exhales a third time his world goes dark, and he feels himself be lifted from the ground.
He registers moving backwards, and the halt of the wind as he’s brought indoors. Having only seen the inside of the frat house a couple of times, Dalton quickly loses track of where inside they could be. He is taken up a flight of stairs and down an extremely long flight just a few moments later. Finally he’s set down, and as his feet touch the ground a pair of strong hands shoves him by the shoulders, causing him to fold his knees and sit on a hard chair.
“One more to go, gentlemen,” calls out a familiar voice.
Dalton loses track of time, and every time someone makes a noise they are immediately silenced. Finally footsteps descend the stairs.
“He didn’t show up,” states a deep, eloquent voice.
“Very well, then,” the first voice says. “Let’s get this party started!”
The cover is removed from Dalton’s head and he looks around the room. Several tall figures cloaked in cobalt robes circle Dalton, as well as three other freshmen. The four young men look equally confused and excited at the prospect of officially joining the fraternity.
“Tonight, we invite four souls to join the ranks of Beta Lambda Upsilon,” a nasally voice proclaims. “In accordance with tradition, each pledge shall draw from The Hat. Pledges, do not unfold or examine your papers until instructed.”
A figure wearing a red belt around his waist runs up to the pledge furthest from Dalton. He grabs the boy by the shoulders and screams. “Do you understand the Elder’s instructions?”
It’s the same voice that started the initiation, and Dalton could finally place it: Chapter President Mark. The boy nods at Mark’s question. Unsatisfied, Mark shakes the boy and repeats the inquiry.
“Yes, sir.” The pledge is let go and Mark walks up to the second freshman.
“I understand,” he says, apparently satisfying the president.
The process repeats again until Mark stands in front of Dalton. This close, Dalton can smell Mark’s cologne. It’s pungent and fruity. It almost smells… blue, somehow. Mark’s five o’clock shadow is darkened by the hood of the robe, creating layers of obfuscation over his handsome, chiseled face. Mark’s hands grab Dalton’s shoulders and his icy blue eyes pierce into Dalton’s gaze.
“Do you understand the Elder’s instructions?” Mark asks firmly. His familiar voice melts Dalton like cotton candy in a rainstorm.
“Yes I understand, sir,” Dalton says almost hypnotized by Mark’s allure.
Mark nods. “Bring out The Hat!”
Two robed men carry out a purple top hat and stop at each of the pledges. When the pair arrive in front of Dalton, he looks inside to see dozens, if not hundreds, of light blue folded slips of paper. Dalton reaches inside the hat and pulls out two pieces of paper.
“Return one at random,” commands the shorter of the duo.
Dalton drops one and holds the other one close to his chest. Mark drops his hood and smiles.
“Gentlemen,” he begins. “We are almost finished with phase zero of initiation. This is your final chance to back out. There are… certain events of the evening that will leave you… with an altered outlook on life. You have thirty seconds to decide.”
Mark looks down at his wrist and calls out the time. Ten seconds pass in silence. Twenty. Thirty. Again, Mark smiles and makes a motion with his hand. One by one, five more hoods fall to reveal seniors. Elders of the chapter, teaching assistants and tutors. Guides for the pledges over the past several days.
“When you open your papers, you will find a single word written down. Read it aloud, and an Elder shall bring it to you,” says the nasally voice, which belongs to a brown-haired man with dark blue highlights running through his hair. “Pledge Ezekial, you may open your paper.”
The first pledge unfolds the slip in his hands. “Soda, what on Earth?”
An Elder carries a two-liter of soda with a blue and silver label. It’s some kind of cola, though tinged blue. Ezekial accepts the bottle with shock.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks.
“You will wait until further instructions are given,” Mark instructs, glaring with a smile.
“Pledge George, you may open your paper.” The Elder’s voice is still firm, though his attempt at sounding authoritative falls flat.
George opens his paper. “Pie?”
Another Elder brings out a pie. Steam still rises from the dish, though the pan isn’t too hot to hold with bare hands.
The third pledge, named Norman, is instructed to open his next. “Soda, as well.”
The Elder that brought the first two-liter now brings out a second for the scrawny freshman.
“Pledge Dalton, you may open your paper.”
Dalton gulps and unfolds the slip of paper, now slightly damp from the sweat of his palms. “Gum.”
A different Elder, one with mocha skin and coal hair, walks solemnly up to Dalton and hands out a single piece of foil-wrapped confection. A wave of gasps rolls out from the hooded figures until Mark holds up his hand, still wearing his devious smile.
“Pledges, the next task you will be charged with will be your final one before you are officially made our Brothers,” he says, deepening his honey voice. “All you must do is, consume.”
“Excuse me?” questions Norman. “Do we have to—”
“Drink every last drop, tonight?” Mark asks. “No.”
Norman looks relieved.
“You have to drink every last drop in the next hour,” he says as Norman’s relieved smile falters.
“What the fuck?” Ezekial cries out. “I have to chug this entire two-liter in an hour? That twerp down there only has a single piece of gum! How is that fair?”
“All will be explained in due time, Pledge Ezekial. I suggest you get started, you’ve already wasted four precious minutes,” says the nasally Elder.
A grunting sound makes itself known and everyone in the basement looks towards George, who is already face-first in his pie. A few chunks fly out, but overall it appears that every morsel is making it into his greedy mouth.
“That’s the attitude we like to see here at BLU,” Mark says, clamping his hand on George’s shoulder.
Norman and Ezekial both unscrew the lids to their bottles and begin chugging. Surprisingly, Norman’s small figure is very adept to the challenge. After just a few seconds a whole liter is down his throat. Ezekial isn’t as lucky, only managing a few gulps in the same time. Dalton looks down at the gum in his hand and starts to unwrap it with his other hand. It’s a powdery blue, and smells like blueberries. He lifts the piece up to his mouth and he begins to chew.
He lets out an involuntary moan as the sweet taste of blueberry juice sieges his tongue and slides down his throat. Ezekial removes his mouth from the bottle and a small burp escapes his lips. Norman takes his own break from chugging to laugh at the outburst.
“BRRRRAPPPPPP!” Norman belches mid-chortle.
The rest of the fraternity joins in the laughter and every remaining hood is pulled down to reveal each of the other members. Each of the Brothers begin walking around the basement, congregating around one of the four Pledges. A few surround Norman and Ezekial, the former of whom has gone back to chugging as the latter keeps emitting small burps. A handful of Brothers and an Elder surround George, who hasn’t even come up for air since digging into the pie. The rest of the fraternity, including the other Elders and Mark, surround Dalton.
“What’s going on, guys?” he asks as he keeps chewing the piece of gum.
Most gum that Dalton has had before loses its strongest flavor after about a minute. This one is still going strong, and the juice tastes even more real than it did at first. The younger members chuckle at Dalton’s question, one of the Elders simply holds a mirror up to his face. Dalton doesn’t notice anything unusual at first, except for a small blue rash on the tip of his nose. On second thought, Dalton thinks he might be paler than usual as well, his blond hair a vibrant yellow against the light skin tone. Dalton swipes at his nose before realizing that it’s not some blemish or rash. It’s color.
“I’m turning blue!” Dalton cries out, and the Brothers escalate their chuckles to full on laughter.
Ezekial finds a lull in his burping spell. “So is Norman! His whole face is as blue as this soda!”
Norman finishes the soda and lets out an even mightier belch than before.
“BUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!” The scent of blueberries and cola waft throughout the basement, and all of the Brothers standing next to Norman let out a couple of small burps themselves. “So are you!”
Ezekial drops his soda in shock at the words Norman says, but a dexterous Brother catches the bottle without spilling a single drop.
“You might want to finish this sooner rather than later, bud,” the Brother tells him.
Ezekial takes the bottle and begins to chug. This time the soda disappears like magic and he lets out a long, loud, obnoxious belch. “BAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLCCCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
George finally stops eating and lifts his face from the tin. It’s licked clean and George tries to speak, but it comes out as high-pitched squealing. The Pledges soon realize that George no longer has a human face, and instead now sports a pig’s snout and ears. His face is also entirely blue, darkening as the color spreads to the rest of his body. He turns around, trying to look over his blue form, and reveals to everyone else a blue, curly tail. Then from within him, George’s gut lets out a rumbling groan.
His stomach swells and fills out his shirt, straining the buttons that go down the front. His thighs follow suit, quickly giving George the appearance of a pear-shaped woman-pig hybrid. His chest grows, bursting the first of several buttons. The weight of his stomach begins piling on quicker, and each of the remaining buttons fly away to a dark corner of the basement. Pop. Poppoppop. Poppop. Pop.
Before long, George falls onto all fours- still squealing like the greedy, fat piggy he’s become. The size of his thighs reaches the limits of his once-black slacks. A final button gives up with a resounding bang. The seams of his clothes are the next to go, ripping to reveal deep blue skin underneath. As his thighs continue expanding, his pants finally tear away completely, underwear and all, revealing a rapidly growing ass. The Brothers next to George begin slapping at his body, his fat arms rendering him helpless to the relentless teasing, poking, and prodding.
Every square inch of his flabby body jiggles with each slap. Every squeal George lets out gets louder as the Brothers start pressing their lips to his exposed body, kissing him in every sensitive spot. The team works together to roll George onto his side, exposing his huge, rock-hard, throbbing blue cock and six wide, purple areolas on his torso. The Brothers each pick a nipple and begin licking and sucking, coaxing even louder squeals of pleasure from the pigberry.
Ezekial and Dalton are in shock at the treatment of their fellow Pledge. A horrifying thought crosses their minds at the same time: will they, too, turn into pigs and be nothing but playthings to these Brothers? Their question is answered as Norman starts hiccuping quickly. Ezekial also starts to hiccup, but it’s more controlled than Norman’s rapid-fire outbursts. A minute passes and Norman’s shirt starts to rise, revealing a small, ball-shaped belly. His blue skin is taut and shiny under the sparse lighting of the basement.
Both Norman and Ezekial begin hiccuping even faster, and Ezekial’s shirt begins sliding up his front too. Norman’s belly is much more sizable than Ezekial’s, but Ezekial seems to be catching up. Dalton realizes that he’s still chewing the gum and it’s still as flavorful as it was ten minutes ago. A feeling he can’t identify weighs him down, but he’s too distracted by the inflation of the soda-chugging Pledges. Norman’s polo shirt rips away easily, allowing his gut to swell even bigger, even faster. Ezekial’s tank top is made out of stretchy material and holds on longer than the polo did.
Both of their bellies are soon as large as yoga balls, and both freshmen fall onto their asses under the immense size and unyielding nature of their spherical, blue bellies. Unlike George though, who transformed entirely into a fat pigberry, Ezekial and Norman’s bodies remain mostly unchanged, save for the blue coloration. After some more growth, both of the Pledges are knocked onto their backs and pinned to the floor by their bellies.
The Brothers that surround them make quick work of their remaining clothes, as they begin playing with the large stomachs protruding from the young men. These Brothers also begin kissing the Pledges all over, rubbing and poking and slapping the inflated guts. Like George, Ezekial and Norman are both rock-hard as their blue cocks also throb, though Dalton can see trickles of blue liquid oozing out of them even at this distance.
All remaining eyes are on him now, and as Dalton looks down he learns why. His body has also been changing, and a large glorp alerts him to the swelling in his midsection. Dalton feels a breeze on his belly as his sweatshirt starts riding up. His trackpants, which had been somewhat loose that morning when he had gotten dressed, are snug. Dalton turns his head and sees that his ass is absolutely massive! It’s as if someone had stuffed two large watermelons, or pumpkins even, into the seat of his pants. Dalton’s cock hardens at the sight and the Brothers all cheer as they witness the tent form with what little slack the pants had left.
Another glorp and Dalton’s shirts rides all the up to just underneath his once-flat chest. Now large balls of flesh filled with juice rest, supported by the sweatshirt, and almost blocking his view of the basement. His pants rip apart as his ass swells out again, and Mark quickly works on pulling off Dalton’s sweatshirt before it gets too tight and chokes him. Free from the constraints of fabric, Dalton’s body surges outward as he chews the fruity gum. His legs thicken until they meet, and his arms grow with so much juice that they’re held out at his sides like some kind of crucified blueberry. Totally helpless, the Brothers finally swarm Dalton’s growing, blue body. The examine every inch of his skin with their fingers, their eyes, and their tongues.
“He’s so sweet!” calls out that nasally voice from below.
A voice behind Dalton agrees and slaps his ass. Dalton’s body lurches forward at the sudden motion and he falls onto his large, protuding stomach. Dalton feels the head of the Elder weighed down under his massive form, but when he tries rocking side-to-side, he feels the Elder’s tongue slip in and out of his deepened navel. Dalton feels it when the tip of his cock touches the basement floor and he lets out another moan. In response, Dalton feels a dozen hands grab onto his member and begin stroking it in several directions. Dalton’s moans get louder and louder, drowning out even the growing moans of Norman and Ezekial and the high squeals of George.
“How are you feeling, big boy?” Mark asks, once again staring into Dalton’s eyes with his own icy blue irises.
Dalton tries to respond but is unable. Juice flows from his mouth, muffling his words. Mark smiles.
“Perfect, I see,” he says, taking off his robe.
Underneath his robe is nothing but bare skin. Dalton is transfixed by Mark’s washboard abs and toned pecs that glisten with sweat from wearing the overly warm robe for so long. Dalton’s eyes drift down until they reach Mark’s waist, where a tight, round ass stuck out from behind and a massive seven-inch cock stood at attention, almost poking Dalton’s swollen chest. Mark shoves the tip of his dick past the round chest and rests it on Dalton’s lips.
Dalton opens up and begins spilling juice all over Mark’s erect penis. Mark shoves his dick in, hitting the back of Dalton’s throat. Forced to swallow all that juice, Dalton easily takes the throbbing cock in its entirety, giving Mark a proper deepthroat. Mark starts to moan as well, and the other Brothers begin disrobing as well, revealing their naked bodies- bodies of all different sizes and shapes and colors. The only thing that the bodies of each Brother and Elder have in common is a single blue stain the size of a quarter on their skin. Mark’s is right above his pelvic bone, in perfect view of Dalton’s limited vision. Mark lets out a shudder and suddenly Dalton feels something that isn’t quite juice flow down his throat and into his stomach.
Mark removes his dick from Dalton’s juicy mouth and two more Brothers replace him. Mark walks out of Dalton’s view, just keeping a firm, strong hand on his taut, blue skin. Dalton feels the hand wrap around to his ass before it’s joined by a second, equally firm hand. Dalton feels each cheek squeezed and then spread apart before a tongue begins licking at his hole. Dalton is even more aroused by this action, and he starts oozing blue pre-cum onto the floor. The Brothers still attending to his massive blue cock stop what they’re doing and start mopping up the blue liquid with their tongues.
Mark speaks into Dalton’s asshole, as if Dalton could hear anything over the moaning and squealing of his fellow Pledges, before standing upright and holding his own dick lengthwise against Dalton’s trembling, blue hole. Dalton starts squirting juice from that orifice, which Mark uses to lubricate his still-hard cock. Slowly, he pushes the tip inside and again, Dalton moans with an intensity to rival the sounds of Ezekial and Norman, who have also begun getting spit-roasted by Brothers. George squeals in total bliss as he’s fucked and sucked, one Brother on each of his nipples, an Elder giving him sloppy head, and another Elder thrusting a full fist into George’s large ass.
Mark continues deeper into Dalton, groaning in ecstasy at the warm insides. Dalton quickly feels Mark hit his taint from inside and he lets out a long, loud moan. Encouraged by the loud Pledge, Mark picks up speed and massages Dalton’s insides with his hard cock. Dalton pants with each thrust, and Mark keeps going faster and faster, thrusting his pelvis back and forth over and over. He gives Dalton’s large, blueberry ass one more slap, and as Mark watches Dalton’s body jiggle, he feels himself blow an even larger load than the one he deposited down Dalton’s throat.
George also finishes, flooding the throat of the Elder on his dick with blue cum. The Elder takes it like a champ and begins swallowing every drop of George’s load, until over a gallon of the pigberry’s jizz sits in his gut. He’s bloated and heavy and still aroused. Eager to finish himself, he stands up and wobbles due to the shift in his center of gravity. He walks over to Dalton’s massive blue form and begins fucking him in the mouth. The other Brothers abandon George’s fat form as his squeals die down, and join their Elder at the behemoth blueberry, shifting the focus of their fondling from George’s tits and ass to Dalton’s truly spherical body.
Norman and Ezekial reach orgasmic bliss at the same time, each of them screaming out in pleasureful moans. Their attending Brothers and Elders lick up as much of Norman and Ezekial’s jizz as they can before joining the rest of the fraternity at Dalton’s bloated ball of a body and leave the two Pledges to rest. There are now so many hands and mouths and cocks playing with Dalton’s huge form that he starts to rock back and forth. The juice inside him makes a slosh and a splash with each shift.
As each of the Elders take turns fucking Dalton’s juicy hole, a series of small fart sounds starts emitting from George. Nobody pays attention, too busy fucking Dalton, as George’s farts lengthen. Norman and Ezekial begin burping, just as they had when they chugged the soda. Slowly, the three Pledges shrink down to their usual proportions, though still blue as a berry. The three start snoring softly, and the Brothers continue playing with their giant blueberry.
One Brother sprays his load underneath Dalton’s tits. The Elder trapped under Dalton also cums as the rocking lifts Dalton up just high enough to let him take a breath and roll out of the way of the enormous Pledgeberry. Several more Brothers release their load on various spots on Dalton’s large form. The Elder swollen from George’s cum dumps his own load into Dalton’s overfilled ass. Each Brother and Elder cum, their jizz decorating Dalton’s body in a gay, blueberry, body bukakke. Dalton feels each load hit his skin, and drip down as it melts with the heat of his body. Dalton is the only one left without release.
“Brother Dalton, all of us here have pleasured ourselves with your body,” Mark begins. “You have brought dozens of brothers to orgasmic ecstasy. As the Chapter President of Beta Lambda Upsilon, it is my honor and privilege to bring you to release myself.”
Dalton moans before Mark’s tongue even touches the base of his mammoth penis. Mark takes his sweet time, licking the shaft of all the Brothers’ jizz. He moves up to Dalton’s huge, blue sack and begins sucking on each swollen testicle, giving little nibbles that send shivers of pleasure up Dalton’s spine which culminate in another loud moan.
“You like that, you slutty blueberry?” Mark asks as Dalton whimpers. “Then I’m sure you’ll enjoy every second of this.”
With his signature grin, Mark slides his tongue from the base of Dalton’s dick to the tip. It’s as large as a cartoon toadstool, but Mark manages to wrap his entire mouth around the blue head. He sticks his tongue into Dalton’s urethra, and Dalton shudders with anticipation. Mark begins sliding his head up and down the shaft, only able to take a few inches of Dalton’s massive cock. His hands quickly find purchase on the neglected area of the shaft, and his strong grasp massages Dalton expertly.
Dalton moans with each squeeze and he feels his dick get harder and harder the longer it’s in Mark’s eager mouth. Mark reaches for Dalton’s balls and begins fondling them with one hand and maintaining the massage with the other one. He continues bobbing his head up and down the tip and the end of the shaft. As he plays with Dalton’s swollen package, the Brothers begin teasing Dalton and the Elders start to chant Mark’s name to cheer him on.
“What a tub of lard, huh?”
“Did you take more cum up your ass than what you swallowed?”
“You really let yourself go!”
“Come on, you slutberry, you know you want to cum already!”
The teasing becomes too much for Dalton to handle and his dick tenses even with Mark’s guiding touch. The flow starts out slow, and Mark lets it all trickle down his throat. Then Dalton’s jizz comes out faster, pouring cup after cup after cup down Mark’s throat, just as he had done to the massive mountain of blueberry juice twenty minutes ago. Minutes pass as Dalton releases every drop built up and suppressed through an hour of teasing and prodding. Gallon after gallon fills up Mark’s gut, his washboard abs almost disappearing under his naked, bloated figure.
As Dalton cums, he begins to feel himself fall. His body shrinks as every last ounce of juice exits his body and enters Mark’s. Mark taps the ground three times and the Elder that had been trapped under Dalton’s enormous belly takes his place, quickly bloating as well as gallons of jizz flow from the tip of Dalton’s slowly shrinking cock. By the time Dalton is his regular size, each of the Elders, and some of the junior Brothers sport large, bloated bellies filled with his cum.
Dalton’s eyes grow heavy and he closes them as he lays on the floor of the basement and drifts off to the best sleep of his life. With all four of the newly-minted Brothers asleep, the Brothers who aren’t incapacitated by Dalton’s cum bloat begin carrying them up the stairs and into a large bathroom with a ten-person whirlpool tub. The Brothers take care of the mess on each of their new Brothers, as well as themselves, sudsing the sleeping quartet and rinsing all the jizz off of their bodies.
The four of them are towel-dried and carried to a bedroom, empty except for two queen-sized bunk beds. The Brothers place their former Pledges onto their own separate mattresses before turning out the light, leaving, and closing the door behind them. One of the bloated Elders has finally climbed the long flight of stairs and hangs a tag on the doorknob for the housekeeper.
Do Not Disturb.
---
Dalton opens his eyes to find his hand in his shorts, soaking with cum. He’s masturbated to that memory three times a day since it happened, at least- so have his cohort of Brothers. Dalton looks over to see that at some point during his recollection of events, Ezekial and Norman entered the room and started making out in the nude. They grab at each other’s dicks, stroking and fondling. Dalton hears the sound of George pigging out on leftover pizza as he enters the room, sans shirt. Dalton smiles and climbs the ladder to his own bed, allowing George to take a seat on the lower bunk and continue feasting on his second lunch.
It’s going to be a long, hot, freshman year, Dalton thinks to himself.
Word Count: 4,600 | Reading Time: 20 minutes
