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LoakaChunk
LoakaChunk

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Something In The Water

 

The technician drew back the sample and then frowned at the readout on his scanner. Even with all their considerable technology, it would be impossible to keep the spill from leaking into the local water supply.

A call back to corporate went about as expected. “Do your best, and make it look like we were never here,” was the order before the line went dead. The tech shrugged, and then packed up his gear, got in his van, and left. If he was lucky, the college down the road would only get a fraction of the serum that was accidentally dumped.

Unfortunately, one frat was particularly close to the accident site.


“Hey, Austin! How was the drive?”

Austin stared wide eyed at the 350 pound, blue-eyed, blond-haired behemoth that was now barreling towards him just as he’d exited his beat up Accord. His correspondence with the Zeta Alpha Phi staff had led him to believe he’d be transferring to a very fitness oriented household, but the man they’d sent to greet him looked like he’d never lifted more than his fat ass off the couch.

“Um, it was fine. Uh, you live… here?”

“Sure do! Name’s Roderick, but everyone calls me Rod. I’m the frat president. C’mon, let’s get you all set up,” he said, bringing Austin up short. He’d spoken with the president via email weeks ago, extolling the on-site gym and regular jogs the frat schedules. They’d even sent him a photo of the current membership, and not one of them seemed to have an ounce of fat on them. He hadn’t been able to pick out Rod in the photo, but nobody had looked like the fatty that was taking his luggage upstairs.

He sighed and hoped there weren’t going to be any more surprises.

It had now been two weeks without a single jog. Worse, he’d finally had a chance to meet everyone who lived at the frat, and they were all universally out of shape, varying in size from merely chunky to downright colossal. One guy, Jesse, looked like he was 500 pounds, his t-shirt barely covering his enormous, sagging belly, and his room covered in empty food wrappers and pizza boxes. None of them he recognized from the photo he’d been emailed before.

The only good thing was that the ensuite gym wasn’t a lie, although from the looks of things it hadn’t been used in a very long time. The weights were all strewn about, haphazard, and some of the machines needed oiling. Austin enjoyed his solo gym routines, although lamented he couldn’t perform any of the heavier lifts without a spotter. He’d tried to ask his neighbor, but he’d merely scoffed and gone back to playing video games.

He was beginning to think he’d been had, bamboozled into joining a frat he had no business being a part of. It wasn’t quite the college experience he was hoping for, but classes started next week, so it was too late to do anything about it now. He decided he’d just grin and bear it.


Something was wrong, Austin thought. His pants no longer buttoned. His shirt didn’t conceal the small paunch he’d developed. His morning jogs were becoming harder and harder until now they were more often morning walks.

It had to be something about this place, he thought, somewhat paranoid. It was his only explanation though, after being an avid fitness buff since high school. How could he let this happen? How could he let anything change him this much in such a short time?

He threw away his too-tight jeans in discuss and marched up to the president’s room in nothing but his boxers, his budding belly already large enough to conceal the lap-band. He banged on the door until Rod’s round face appeared, which Austin shoved his phone at.

“You sent me this picture. Who are these people?!” He demanded.

Rod seemed genuinely confused. “What do you mean? That’s us. All of us.”

This only seemed to enrage Austin, who nearly yelled back, “No they’re not! These guys work out! They don’t eat pizza every night! They’re not all huge fatsos!”

“Well, maybe not in those days, but I guess you could say we grew into it,” Rod replied with a smirk.

This brought Austin up short. He brought the phone back to his face and stared at the picture displayed there. In the middle of the group was a tall, lanky guy. Blonde hair. Blue eyes.

Austin’s mouth slowly opened in shock. “Holy fuck, there IS something wrong with this place!”

“I dunno, I kinda like it,” came the rumbling reply from Jesse behind him, his elephantine body wide enough to completely block the hallway. Austin was trapped.

“Why don’t you step into my office, and we’ll have a frank discussion about your membership at Zeta Alpha Phi,” Rod said, his smirk becoming a sneer. “Oh, and Jesse? Order some pizza. I think Austin looks hungry.”


It had been 4 months since Austin had joined the frat, and during that time he’d been well fed. Perhaps not entirely willing at first, but as the months waned he tore into meal time as eagerly as the largest of his fratmates. And it showed.

Gone was the slim, trim, health obsessed sophomore that jogged every morning, replaced by a much heftier specimen. The frat had all pitched in to buy Austin a new wardrobe, and then to help him eat his way out of it not once, but twice. Soon Rod’s hand-me-downs wouldn’t be big enough to fit, and Jesse had joked he’d be wearing his old clothes very shortly.

A few short months ago and the thought would have filled him with disgust. Now it filled Austin with excitement.

Jesse had been instrumental in breaking Austin down, suffocating him with his belly until he’d agreed to just one hamburger, just one more slice of pizza, just one more bag of chips. At first it was torture, but now it was foreplay, as soon after the force-feeding sessions had begun Austin experienced a strange turn. He used to think of Jesse as disgusting - now he seemed the most beautiful creature in the world, someone to be admired and to inspire.

Many a night had been spent where the two added to the mounds of food wrappers surrounding Jesse’s bed, their feeding interrupted only by fierce and fiery lovemaking.


Today was the day - initiation day. The troop of freshmen was already lined up on the front lawn, and they all seemed far too thin to Austin’s eyes.

He should know. His last weigh-in, surrounded by fratmates in the center of the house, had crested the big 400. Austin was officially a big man, now only outweighed by his boyfriend Jesse. At nearly 600 pounds, he’d easily been elected frat president at the end of last semester, and Austin couldn’t have been more proud.

The freshmen waiting on the lawn seemed confused by the spectacle of nearly a dozen sumo-sized upperclassmen busily preparing a long table of the most delectable dishes. Austin went around to each of them, giving them a glass of water while they stood in wait, each one in turn sipping until gradually they’d all finished. Finally done, Jesse came to the fore and proclaimed to the freshmen, “Your initiation is simple: you have to demolish everything on this table.”

It took about 20 minutes before each freshmen called it quits, each sporting rounded bellies sure to grow over the course of the semester. Then the rest of the house joined it to help finish.


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