Campus Carrying

Jake knows it's hazing as soon as he hears what they're going to have to do, but honestly, he's not even remotely phased.

There are other frats that have their pledges run laps until they're about to pass out and wait on their elders hand and foot in the literal sense. One of his buddies had to get a girl to sign his dick as proof she sucked it and then streak across campus. In comparison, this is almost

insultingly

easy.

Teehee, let's send the freshman out in the woods after dark to find the "river monster" and bring back proof, won't that be scary for them!

Please.

It's a glorified photo scavenger hunt.

Jake isn't quite sure what he's going to be taking a picture of, but they're probably being intentionally vague on purpose to freak them out. Whatever. He has a flashlight and a pocket knife and the good sense to know that the scariest thing out here is going to be the upperclassmen wearing masks or some shit. Or some local,

normal

wildlife, maybe, but this far into the city, with enough people tromping around even they might make scarce. So yeah, he'll keep an eye out around his feet for coral snakes, but—

"Sometimes the monster's feeling

particularly

frisky and will give you some, uh,

intimate

souvenirs," Trevor tells them solemnly, the other brothers all chuckling, "If that happens, just push them back out in the lake

immediately

. Just like taking a shit."

Most of the others crack up laughing.

'Yeah,'

Jake thinks, narrowly avoiding rolling his eyes,

'ok, sure.'

They give them some other rules, some basic hiking guidelines Jake already knows like the back of his hand. He's fully prepared to walk out into the dark and have a bunch of assholes jump out of a bush and chase him back to the campus once he takes his picture. Maybe he'll even play along like he's actually scared; makes him look a little braver than being completely stone faced.

So, he's walking out pretty damn confident he's got a place with the Alphas if this is the best they've got to challenge him. Some of the guys go running onto the trails full tilt, some seem genuinely freaked out by the dark and jerk their flashlights towards every sound. Jake just hikes on out along the trail, mildly entertained by the loud "

Boo!

" and screams he occasionally hears in the distance. When he gets to the riverbank, he even takes a moment to appreciate the view. He hasn't used his flashlight much, so he's pretty well adjusted to the dark; not to mention the bright full moon reflecting off the waters. There's still a bit of a commotion upriver, but mostly it's sort of nice out here. There are a few other pledges standing around looking for the effigy they're supposed to be taking a picture of. Looking up, he catches a glimpse of some of the older brothers standing behind trees on the other side of the river. He's waffling between pretending he hasn't noticed and staring them down when Rob starts shrieking garbled curses a few feet away from him.

Rob had been one of the few others that seemed largely unphased when they'd started out. He's a big, tree trunk of a guy from rural Alabama, so hearing him freak out is more than a little concerning, actually. But before Jake can whip around to see what he's screaming about, something has shot up his pantleg and got him by the calf.

Blind panic is suddenly on the menu and Jake screams, too, as he's yanked to the ground by—by—

"What the fuck

is that!!

"

"Say hi to Big Daddy, boys!" someone shouts from the distance over the whoops and catcalls of the other members, all unconcerned as their freshman are drawn kicking and screaming towards the water. "He's real excited to meet our new fishies!"

Jake can barely hear the others panicking over the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears as he's dragged through the mud. He goes fumbling for his knife as he tries to kick free, but there's an appendage winding higher up his leg and he can't get in his pocket before his pants are digging into his hips. The button on the front pops off into the water and his pants shortly follow. He's terrified he's about to be drowned, clawing at the dirt to try and drag himself out, but he isn't pulled in very far.

Lying flat on his stomach, Jake cranes his head up to keep from swallowing any water as his lower half is completely submerged. He reaches back to try and pry at the tentacle wrapping itself around his waist, but only succeeds in having his arm restrained, too. "

No!

" he gasps, keeping his other hand flung out towards the shore, getting a fist full of muddy grass and no traction for his troubles. His voice pitches high with alarm when something sticky slides up the crack of his ass. He feels his hip pop unpleasantly trying to twist away, but he's pinned down completely immobile before he can do any real damage to himself.

"Relax, don't hurt yourself!" someone—Kyle, Brandon? who fucking cares—shouts. "Just push them back out, you'll be fine!"

Those words catch up to Jake in a rush and his stomach drops when he realizes they weren't joking at all. The tentacle is suddenly probing at his asshole, unbothered by his clenching as the tip—no bigger than a pinky—forces its way inside. It's coated in something viscous that's slathering all over Jake's backside, leaving his skin tingling. Whatever it is, it leaves his muscles lazy; he can barely tighten up at all and the tentacle is

growing inside

him—from a pinky, to two fingers, to a hand—stretching, stretching until Jake's got what feels like a fist inside him.

In all his days, he's never even touched himself there, never had any interest.

It feels like nothing ever has before, bright and all-consuming leaving him so breathless he forgets to even struggle. He feels something

bulging

into his body, leaving the slick tentacle gushing with liquid. One bump after another until he's packed tight, pressure right against something inside him that has him seeing stars. He doesn't even recognize the feeling building in him at first until he's moaning loudly, wantonly, hips jerking minutely as he comes into the mud beneath him.

Jake's ears are ringing so loudly he almost misses one of the brother's exclaiming, "Holy fuck, did Jake just

come

?"

Someone is laughing raucously, "Yeah, we know who daddy's lil bitch is gonna be this year! Look how full he is!"

At that, Jake presses up to get a look at himself. He's never been a particularly slim guy, but seeing the sudden bulge of his stomach hanging heavy beneath him has his head spinning more than the orgasm. "Oh, what the fuck..." he cries, voice breaking.

"Don't be a baby!" Trevor shouts. "Just shit them out before—"

The sound of a megaphone siren cuts him off. Suddenly, the surrounding area is full of too much motion, everyone scattering before Campus PD can even properly announce themselves. Jake is horrified at the thought of being seen like this, having to explain it. He looks up to see Rob sobbing and sprinting away from the river, something shimmering and slick running down his bare thighs. A startled groan escapes Jake when the tentacles release him, suddenly pulling out of him and sinking back into the river. He feels heavy and slow when he scrambles to his feet, snatching up his pants as he tries to run. His stomach is jiggling with whatever is—fuck, there's something inside of—

Jake only pauses long enough to hunch over near a tree and puke, nerves and the pressure in his gut getting the best of him. Then he staggers into his pants—ignoring the way they stick to him—and just tries to get away. He can't talk to the cops, what the fuck would he even say? That he got fucked by a

lake monster

?

Back at the Alpha house, he goes from the back door straight to his room to freak out in private. He kept thinking once he got into good lighting, he'd realize this was all fake. That maybe they'd slipped some acid in his dinner and he was just on a bad trip, but...

Standing wide-eyed and shaking in the bathroom, he looks like a wild thing. He's soaked through with mud and river water, his stomach rounded out like he's

pregnant

.

"Fuck," Jake croaks, lifting his shirt to look at the tight skin of his belly.

Mind running in frantic circles, he can't hold onto a thought for longer than a second before he's drawn back to his stomach, his asshole feeling stretched loose, and...the tacky feeling of come and mud on his cock. The thought that he'd come from this makes his stomach swim.

It feels like something moves in response.

It

looks

like something moves in response.

"Shit!" Jake exclaims back thudding against the wall when he startles in response. In a flurry, he shoves his pants off and falls onto the toilet, thinking

just shit it out, just shit it out—

Aside from a gush of whatever liquid the monster had covered him in, for all his straining, nothing is coming out. Eventually he strips with trembling hands and gets in the shower. Water births are a thing, right? Maybe he just needs to be in water.

Nothing. Not for the first tub of scalding hot water he runs. Not for the next freezing cold one. Not for the last one where he tries to get close to the temperature of river water. Zilch.

In a fit of desperation, he leans back in the water setting his feet up on the far wall and reaches between his legs. He isn't sure what he's expecting, like maybe he'll be able to feel whatever is inside him, but he can't. His fingers are pruning and cool, but even still there's a flash of relief at the feeling of something inside him. It's not as full as it was when... Not that he wants it to be, but...

Jake presses in a second finger. Then a third.

Pretty quickly, he realizes he's not accomplishing anything with this, but it just—it feels right and he's maybe even something like hard. He can't think about it, keeps his eyes clenched shut so he doesn't have to see his distended stomach, the awkward angle his arm has to take around it as he pumps his fingers. He thinks about being held down by something so much stronger than him, being

bred

by it. There's terror there, more acutely than he's ever felt, but also—he puts a hand on his stomach—something so alarmingly like desire he's leaking with it.

Something literally rolls in his stomach and he cries out, kicking the shampoo bottles off the edge of the tub as he paints the taught skin of his stomach with his come. Laying with one leg thrown out of the tub, Jake finds himself out of breath and near hysterical, unable to tell if he's laughing or crying at this point. What the fuck is he supposed to do here?

"Jake?" Trevor shouts from the hallway, banging on the door. "Is that you?"

Jake can't get a whole breath in to even answer him, barely pulls his fingers out of himself before the bedroom door opens.

"Come on, man, it's not that bad, is it? Don't be such a—" Trevor's words clip off suddenly when he boldly opens the bathroom door and gets one hell of an eyeful. "Holy shit."

Jake doesn't bother with pretending he has any control over this. He tries to get more upright, finds it hard with his belly in the way. "Please help."

"Holy

fucking shit

, Jake!" Trevor exclaims and then he's dragging Jake to his feet. Jake sort of just lets himself be handled, forced into new clothes—baggy ones that still can't hide his stomach—and dragged back downstairs.

"I told you, I

told

you to push them back out right away!" Trevor babbles for the third time as he loads Jake into the passenger seat of his jeep.

Jake is just angry enough that it shines through how shaken he is. "Fuck you, I was in shock! I didn't think any of it was gonna be real!"

"It got real fast enough, didn't it?" Trevor snaps as he jumps into the driver's seat, peeling out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" Jake asks him, wincing as he gets the seatbelt around his gut. It seems like it's gotten bigger in the short time since they've left.

"We gotta get back to the river," Trevor says and Jake's stomach drops.

"You wanna go

back

?" Jake shrieks. "Even if the cops let us, there's a fucking

Loch Ness—

"

"He's not a—Listen, you can't leave them anywhere else, we don't have a choice. You'll be fine, okay?" Trevor says like he's not sweating bullets, avoiding looking at Jake altogether. "It's a long river, we'll just go to a different spot."

There are so many questions trying to get out Jake doesn't even know where to start. Feeling bloated and a little sick, he almost decides to just keep quiet. But then, "...He?" Red creeps up Trevor's neck as Jake stares at him. "You've done this before."

"We all have," Trevor answers tetchily. "Look, seriously, you're gonna be fine. You just gotta get them out before they..." he waffles, motioning vaguely, "before they get too big."

"Is

this

not too big!?" Jake shouts, motioning at his stomach which is definitely bigger, actually. His belly button is an outie now.

Trevor glances at him, the red in his face darkening. "No."

"How big is—?"

"Gimme a break, man."

"Give you a—? I

oughta break your—

"

"If you're still able to stand up, you're not as big as you can get," Trevor cuts him off, but he sounds strained as he takes an exit that seems to put them off in a neighborhood. "And it'd be

much

more unpleasant if one of us had to fist you to get them out because you couldn't even move, understand?"

The image is pretty vivid and Jake feels something sinking—something dark and hot—in his chest at the mental image of the brothers pushing on Trevor's massive stomach, someone else wrist deep to pull out the...what?

Baby sea monsters?

Jake swallows. "Let's just get this over with."

This branch of the river cuts through a park from what Jake can tell through the darkness, but Trevor pulls off road with little more than a cursory glance around to make sure no cop cars are patrolling. They drive down what seems to be more of a deer trail than anything else until they turn around a bend that puts them out of sight from the street. Trevor cuts the motor and turns off the headlights, the full moon casting shadowy ghosts across everything, just enough to see by. "Come on, hurry."

Hurrying is not something Jake's body really wants to do, but he gets out and shambles behind Trevor down to the water's edge. It's pushing terror further and further up his throat until it feels like it's going to choke him. "What...what happens now?"

"Now you get in the water," Trevor says. "He'll find you."

Jake almost asks how, but thinks about a drop of blood in the water calling a shark and wonders how many things will come from all the slick leaking down his legs. Even though his pants are already uncomfortably damp, he peels them off, shaking too hard with terror to care about being self-conscious. Bending over almost leaves him breathless, but he manages to step out of his pants and shoes.

The ground is uncomfortably damp and soft under his feet, but after cutting one last nervous glance back at Trevor, he takes a hesitant step into the water. It's murky enough that he wouldn't be able to see his feet in the day light, let alone this close to the witching hour. He slogs forward until he's about shin deep in the water.

In the late night quiet, Jake finds himself trembling, jumping at every little sound. He's expecting for the monster to show up in a violent thrash, water spraying everywhere as he gets dragged down to the depths. The thought that he might not survive this twice occurs to him and has his eyes stinging because this is un-fucking-real, but he doesn't feel like he has another choice.

What he actually gets is something muscular and slick wrapping around his ankle again.

Jake can't help it; he cries out and jerks away on instinct before he can get ahold of himself. Even when he remembers this is what is supposed to happen, he can't help whimpering as he is pulled down.

"Relax," Trevor calls entirely unhelpfully as Jake falls to his hands and knees, the dark water sloshing up to his chest as dark shapes wind up his thighs, prod the taut skin of his stomach. Whatever is inside him writhes in response and he shouts, almost falling face first into the water in shock. A tentacle as thick as his fucking leg shoots up to catch him before he can. It nearly knocks the breath out of his chest anyway, but it does keep him from drowning with all his panicked gasping as his legs are pulled open. He grabs at the clammy tentacle, feeling it pulse in his hand as it bears his weight.

"Relax," Trevor repeats, "You'll know when to push."

Like before, there isn't really any preamble to one of the smaller, oozing tentacles sliding against his hole. This time, though, Jake isn't pleading for anything, doesn't bother trying when the tentacle slips inside and he finds himself slack and moaning at the feeling. This time, it doesn't swell as large but presses so deep he spreads his legs further on instinct. It aches in a way that leaves him...wanting.

The feeling gets him hard faster than he wants to admit even to himself.

It keeps adjusting itself, like it's searching inside him and...he's never been fucked before, but he will never admit out lout that he can't imagine it feels better than

this

. He feels so

full

, nearly immobile as he cycles between pleasure and shame. Then he feels a pressure building so sharply in his gut it scares him, like his stomach is actually in danger of bursting. He pushes on instinct, grunting through his teeth.

Pleasure wins out over shame when the tentacle starts to pull out and he feels the monster's larva, swollen and slick, following it.

If he were in his own head, he may have done better not to scream, not to draw attention to the situation. But he's never felt anything like this before, especially not on top of his most intense orgasm to date. He's blind with it, screaming as he pushes out—

births

the larva into the river. The tentacles around him tremble, squeezing him a fraction tighter as the last of the clutch slithers out. He feels uncomfortably empty, but also limp with relief. He feels...pretty damn relaxed actually.

So much so he doesn't react quickly enough when the monster finally lets him go. He falls face first into the water as it caresses him—almost affectionately, oddly enough—before disappearing into the darkness. He sputters trying to push himself up on quivering arms, but Trevor is stomping through the shallows towards him anyway.

"Holy shit," Trevor breathes as he hauls Jake out of the water. He keeps up a steady mantra of swears as he shoves him back into his pants with shaking hands. "Holy shit, Jake, fucking

hell

..."

"You're hard," Jake laughs when he notices, dazed and clumsily trying to help dress himself.

"Shut up," Trevor snaps, but doesn't drop him, just drags him back to the jeep.

Jake doesn't expressly remember the ride back to campus, almost immediately falling asleep. He doesn't really remember how he wound up in his pajamas, either, but apparently nobody expected the freshman to wake up before lunch anyway. The upperclassmen are all still laughing at them, the underclassmen varying in reaction from shock to outrage. Nobody speaks up, though.

The next full moon, they've all learned their lesson and nobody gets near the river.

Well...

...Nobody

else

, anyway.

Jake is there alone, questioning his own sanity, but also half-hard already, his heart pounding in anticipation. "Uh, hey... Hey, Big Guy?"

This time when something wraps around his ankle, he just sighs in relief.