Blackened Catalyst: A Fresh Six-pack

By ChaoticDjinn published September 11, 2018
Summary
Kappa Sig knows how to throw one heck of a party

The frat house was eerily still when Mark and Nick walked back through the large oak doors into the foyer. In all actuality, the house got strangely deserted and still around this time every year when even the slackest of the brothers were doing their best to try and scrape by with their hard-earned Ds in hand. With the knowledge of what had happened to so many of the frat brothers that day, the stillness took on a strange and somewhat unwelcome quality to the two bonded men.

“Are you sure we want to have a party tonight? I mean, with everyone drinking and all that, the whole frat is going to wind up…like us.”

Mark looked back at Nick’s face and smiled. The way his brow looked furrowed with concern only highlighted his masculine features in Mark’s eyes. From his shining emerald eyes to his rounded cheeks and close-shaved red beard, he really was Mark’s favourite thing to look at.

“Don’t worry, babe.” Began Mark, taking his friend’s meatier hand in his own. “Look at what that beer has done for all of us. You and I were just bros, constantly on the prowl and having fun but meaningless sex. Now, each of us has a soul mate. Tom? He was a little nothing of a pledge, and now he’s a fully fledged, fully muscled member of the frat. And Jonas? Poor guy looked like he was about to keel over from any day from the stress of studying, but he doesn’t have a care in the world.”

Nick returned the smile that Mark flashed him and leaned in for a slow, passionate kiss. Both men knew in the back of their minds that the speech Mark had given was total bunk. The beer had taken their lives and the lives of their friends, twisting them into strange parodies of their former selves. Try as they might to keep that fact in mind, the fizzing bubbles that permeated their bodies told them that everything was alright, the beer really had done them a favour. Like a dude who didn’t know when to call it a night at the bar, they found themselves looking forward with giddy excitement to the next round of changes the enchanted brew might bring.

“Alright, but if we’re gonna have a party, we’re going to need more of that beer. Didn’t you only have a few bottles left?” Asked Nick as the two of them began to walk towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’m hoping I’ll be able to talk Caleb into telling me where he bought the stuff, to begin with. Maybe they sell kegs?”

The words had just barely left Mark’s lips and the saloon style doors to the kitchen swung shut behind them when another wave travelled through the frat house. When the warbling stopped and the universe came back into focus, the formerly sparse kitchen looked as though it doubled as a liquor store as well as a place for the bros to get their grub on. Cases of the little glass bottles stood stacked atop one another on nearly every available countertop, while the floor was crowded with at least ten kegs, each with a different name scrawled across their shiny silver bodies.

“Alright man, now all we need to do is get the word out!” Cried Mark in excitement, his mind just accepting the strange scene before him. With a flash of his fingers and some soft tapping from his cell phone, he sent out a mass text to everyone on campus that liked to party.

The little electronic signal went out across the airwaves and shone across the screens of nearly every man on campus. Unbeknownst to Mark, his message travelled also through the thin veil separating the frat from a plethora of realities and across the sleek surface of a full-length mirror in a cluttered shop.

Elena smiled at the image on her screen. She had never anticipated that the little, nervous boy’s purchase would be so interesting. At very best, she thought the six beers would be drunk, the lives of the drinkers altered, and their lost possibilities ripe for her to take. The human capacity for greed and excess never failed to impress her with its intensity when the slightest bit of magic was involved. If the men who drank the beer were more confident and less reliant on the acceptance of their “brothers” on such a deep subconscious level, she felt certain her harvest wouldn’t be nearly as bountiful as it was shaping up to be.

“Alright, my boys, you’ve set the stage for yourselves. Now, eat, drink and be merry.”


“Yeah, I’ve been getting pretty good gains if I do say so myself.” Boasted Dillion over the booming music that filled the frat house.

He flexed his sixteen-inch biceps as hard as he could and grinned. Of course, the bros in front of him hadn’t asked him about his gains, but he never wasted an opportunity to brag about his lean and incredibly cut body. Standing at six foot even and weighing a hundred seventy-five pounds, his stats didn’t sound all that impressive, but when he lifted his shirt to flash his perfectly flat eight pack or lifted his shorts to expose his perfectly trim diamond thighs, it was evident that the guy hit the gym hard.

It wasn’t enough that he looked like he fell out of a health and fitness magazine though, Dillion never seemed satisfied until he had personally talked to each and every guy he came across about just how great his gains were, all without the help of anything more than hard work and whey powder. All the guys in his dorm were bored sick of listening to his constant chatter and bragging, but it had been a while since he had been to an Kappa Sig party, so he felt it his duty to catch them up on his progress.

“Yeah, that’s nice man. But, if you ask me, it still looks like you juice a bit. No one’s got veins like that natty.” Replied Frank, running his hand over his scraggly blonde goatee.

Curiously, his mind didn’t find it all that odd the only people who had currently shown up to the party were dudes, not a single pair of tits, save for Jonas’, in sight. Something in his mind told him that the girls were probably going to show up later and that he should just enjoy the time with his bros until they showed up. That would require getting away from Dillion though, and when the dude got talking about his natty gains, there was little to be done to stop him. At that moment, all he could do was sip the beer he had poured from the keg and listen to Dillion’s bragging

“Roids, me? Fuck no. Ain’t nothing but pure natural beef in this bod.” Said Dillion, flexing one arm while taking a swig from the bottle of beer clenched by his free hand.

“I dono man, I’m not sure the last time I saw any natty guy with a gut like this.” Replied Frank, his eyes fixed intently on the beach ball sized gut that was threatening to pull Dillion’s muscle shirt up past his belly button.

“What do I gotta do to prove it to you man? This body doesn’t mess around with roids. Come on, feel those abs.”

Dillion pulled Frank’s hand onto his muscle keg and gave it a powerful flex. The sensation beneath Frank’s fingers, while rock hard, was strangely rounded with just the slightest bit of puffy softness. Although he could see each and every one of Dillion’s wide abs, they seemed pressed up against the skin in an almost uncomfortable fashion as they curved to fit the half sphere that was his stomach.

“They may look a little bigger than most other natty guys, but trust me, man. I’m all natural” Continued Dillion, flexing his pecs with a dramatic grunt.

Running his hand over them as he had with the stomach, they too had intensely firm yet slightly puffy quality to them. He couldn’t be sure without actually being in the guy’s head, but Frank suspected that Dillion likely couldn’t see his feet past the massive shelf that served as his chest. Frank shook his head, his mind doing it’s best to make sense of the two images he saw in his mind. At one moment, he saw Dillion as lean, clean-cut and fresh-faced, the next he saw him puffy, swollen with the odd splotch and blemish from what was clearly an extreme abuse of something a lot stronger than whey.

“Well, I dono, you could be natty….but I think I’d have to see all of you to make up my mind.” Said Frank, looking at the bulging hulk with a strangely dreamy gaze.

With another sip of the Fan Boy Brew in his hand, the halo of perfection that had begun to envelop Dillion in Frank’s eyes came to a complete close. No matter what anyone told him, there wasn’t a man more attractive, intelligent, or otherwise closer to perfection than the specimen standing right in front of him. His cannonball biceps that made it look as though he couldn’t touch the top of his head, his giant muscle gut that strained against his shirt, even the lack of a prominent bulge in his tiny gym shorts. All of it was perfect, and Frank felt lucky just to be near the guy.

“You know what? All those guys who say you juice are just fuckin jealous man. I totally fuckin believe you. In fact, it isn’t even a question in my mind.” Blurted Frank, wanting desperately to ingratiate himself on the slab of beef that Dillion had become.

“Fuck, finally a dude who gets it! Who would need to roid when they look like this?” Asked Dillion, flexing his bulbous muscles, too deep in denial to even begin to comprehend how absurd his statement was.

“You got that right. Like I said, I’d love to get a look at the whole thing. I’m sure you’re even more impressive when you’re not wearing so much clothing.” Mused Frank, noting Dillion’s stretched muscle shirt and tiny gym shorts.

“Fuckin’ right I am. Hell, you live here, you must have a room. How about you take me there and I show you what kind of a body real dedication can get you?”

“Really? That would be great!” Cried Frank, unable to contain his excitement, nearly jumping out of his clothes right then and there.

“Yeah! Here.” Began Dillion, picking up Frank and slinging him over his back as if he weighed no more than a teacup poodle. “Which way?”

Frank laughed and blushed, feeling his rock hard erection pressing into Dillion’s shoulder. He knew it should have been humiliating, being manhandled by another dude in front of all his bros, but he didn’t care. Dillion was actually paying attention to him, more than that, he was actually touching him, taking him upstairs to see his body and who knew what else.

“Just up those stairs, second door on your right.”

Frank smiled as Dillion lumbered towards the stairs, his large thighs grinding against one another and making his gait slow and somewhat awkward. He could feel eyes on his back and knew that his bros were watching the two of them climb the stairs. He couldn’t care any less about their strange and questioning looks if he tried though, he was with the one guy who’s opinion actually mattered.

“You know, if you want, I could give you some tips on natural bodybuilding. A few months working with me, you could make some serious gains…”


Ryan stared up at the swirling cloud of smoke hovering just a few feet above his head. The feeling of the hard floor interrupted by the hastily thrown down pillows and blankets was a strange kind of comfortable to him. He didn’t know what he was doing in another guys room, worse yet holding a lit fag between his lips while jamming out to music so grungy he wouldn’t have even called it such a few short minutes ago.

“Here, it gets really fuckin’ good right after this next riff mate.” Said his punked out companion, sitting up and pumping his fist as the songs key change kicked in.

The shin-high leather boots and tight leather pant, the discarded studded leather jacket that laid next to him, the grungy and stained white muscle shirt, nothing about his friends outfit made sense to Ryan. The two of them had only moments ago been downstairs, clad in polos and khakis, talking about all the money they were going to make when they graduated and transitioned into the jobs their rich fathers had waiting for them. With the first few sips of the beer, Ryan had begun to think that the top 20’s music playing in the background of the party was a little lame for such an even. A few more sips and looking around, all he saw were sells outs and posers.

By the time Ryan and Alex had finished their beers the two of them felt a desperate need for a smoke, some real music, and some time away from all the pretty douchebags that seemed to make up the bulk of the parties guest list.

“See? What I tell you. Don’t that just get your dick hard.” Asked Alex, taking a final drag from his fag before putting it out on the hardwood floor beside him.

“Yeah man, way fuckin’ better than the shit those wankers are playing downstairs.” Replied Ryan, rolling onto his side to get a better look at his friend.

Between the firetruck red and inky black liberty spikes and matching scraggily goatee he had to admit, his friend was a pretty fuckable bloke. With a coating of precum leaking out over the thick and heavy prince Albert in his pants urging egging him on Ryan leaned closer to his friend and planted one square over his lips. There wasn’t any hesitation or resistance from Alex, his tongue meeting Ryan’s with furious intensity. The two of them stayed lip locked for the remainder of the dark and discordant song, Ryan thoroughly enjoying the feeling of Alex’s tongue stud.

Ryan felt Alex’s strong hand reach back and grab at the back of his head, his friends painted black nails digging the flesh left exposed by his shaved head. Ryan returned the intense grasp at the back of Alex’s head, pulling hard on the base of one of his frights liberty spikes. A moan escaped his friend’s lips when the pressure got just enough to cause the man a little pain. Smiling Ryan moved his hand from the back of Alex’s head and grabbed hold of one of the thick silver bars pierced through his thick nipples. With a powerful twist and tug, Ryan coaxed a loud, guttural moan out of his friend’s throat while a shiver travelled through his body.

“Fuckin’ hell Ripper, you sure know how to give a bloke what he needs.” Gasped Axe when their embrace finally broke, the sound of his cock straining against his leather pants audible in the lull between songs.

“Yeah, tell me somethin’ I don’t know.” Goaded Ripper, watching with delight as his aggressive attitude prompted a visible twitch of his friend’s cock.

Both men were on pins and needles as they tore out of their restraining leather outfits, finding himself pressed against one another naked as the day they were born. The source of the tingling sensation was completely lost on the embracing punks as they writhed around on the mess of blankets and pillows on the floor. A series of tattoos and piercings had made their way across their bodies. Twin tattoos in old English letters reading “Fuck off” appeared on both men’s foreheads, marking them forever as people unfit for the corporate world, not that they cared.

On Ripper’s back boomed portraits of him standing over Axe’s naked body, his high leather boots pressed down into his friend’s crotch, the latter wearing an expression of sheer lusty ecstasy. All over Axe’s body portraits of the two of them came into vision. Though they were smaller than the large one sprawling over Rippers back, they were just as graphics and mortifying for the straight men who dwelt inside the punked out bodies: Ripper holding a leather riding crop and sitting on Axe with a smile, Axe laying on his back while Ripper held a dripping candle over his rock hard cock.

The empty bottles of “Perv Punk” fell to the side and rolled across the hardwood floor as Ripper hoisted his fried into a hogtied position, securing his limbs with cords of thick rope that had appeared under the bed. The night was young and their minds were filled with thoughts of deliciously twisted sex and nothing else. They knew their dads would keep them in cig and lube money so long as they kept to the shadows and didn’t show their faces to the waking corporate world. There was little else for them to do, lest word get out of what utter embarrassments their sons had become while attending college.

“Got some new nipple clamps I was wanting to try out, in the drawer over there” Grunted Axe, nodding towards his dressing.

“Only if you’re a good little pig. For now, I just want to hear you squeal.” Laughed Ripper, grabbing his friends lip and pulling hard.

Ripper got to his feet and walked over to the stereo, cranking the music as high as it went, a smile trailing over his inked and pierced face. It was going to be one hell of a night.


Caleb’s eyes widened in disbelief at the sight he saw when he entered the frat house late in the evening. He had previously decided it was best that he lay low and give Mark time to cool off. He had only given him the beer as a joke, not really believing that the Bottoms Up Brew would do anything to the guy. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had really hoped that it would change Mark all along. He didn’t really have anything against his frat brother, but taking him off the market certainly would have freed up a lot of women for Caleb to pluck like ripe cherries; however, the scene unfolding all around him was so far from anything he could have ever imagined when he handed Mark that beer.

The house was wall to wall dudes with not a single female in sight. He saw many of his frat brothers in the crowd, although he did have to strain to recognize several of them. Some of them were obscenely muscular and clad in clothes that looked to be at least three sizes too small while smaller, more twinky versions of other brothers pawed at their bulging bodies. Over in a corner, Caleb spied what looked like a bizarre redneck version of Chadwick bent over and getting rammed with unabashed ferocity by a fully nude and sweaty Bud. No, not Chadwick his mind told him, that was Clyde and it was hardly weird to see the two of them fucking in public. Rednecks would be rednecks after all.

Caleb shook his head, clearing his thoughts and restoring the image of how Bud and Chadwick should have looked in his mind. All through his memories he saw strangely mirrored and shadowy versions of all of his friends and brothers. A Jonas who was quiet, studious and distinctly male and another with a jiggly chest and bubbly personality with not a single serious thought in his head. An image of Mark and Nick as just friends, good friends but nothing more. Yet, he also saw the two of them unfailing in their love for one another, clearly destined to be together forever; The darling couple of the gayest frat on campus.

“No! None of this is right. I didn’t want this!” Cried Caleb, his voice failing to rise above the din of the party.

Caleb whirled around looking from one of his brothers to the other, each a strange parody version of himself. Though the drive to save his brothers burned deeply in his chest, the scene surrounding him told him that he was far too late. The only thing he could think of was to stop his brothers from drinking the beer, and he couldn’t spy a single guy without a bottle or a red solo cup in hand. Caleb charged through the crowded living room and through to the kitchen, hoping beyond hope that he would find some of his brother’s unaltered and capable of being saved.

His heart fell when he pushed through the swinging double doors of the kitchen and saw the wall to wall beer that was stored inside. A huge hairy beast of a man who looked at least twenty years too old to be in the frat sat on one of the squat metal kegs while a lumbering hulk that would have given Zeb Atlas a run for his money slobbered on his exposed cock.

“Hey, Caleb! We were missing you man, where you been?” Asked the daddy bear in an impossibly deep rumble, his hand pushing firmly on the back of the muscle stud’s head.

“I don- Kevin? Holy shit, is that really you?” Asked Caleb, recognizing the man through the fur and added years

“Yeah man. What, did some other forty-year-old S.O.B join the frat when I wasn’t looking?” Replied Kevin, grinning at Caleb.

“Uh, no, I-I just didn’t-”

“Didn’t recognize me with this young piece of ass slobbering on my knob,” interrupted Kevin with a booming laugh. “Yeah, it’s a new look for me, huh? But, let me tell you. Even though this guy doesn’t look like it, he’s 100% grade A bottom bitch boi, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, daddy.” Replied the muscle-bound hunk, his voice sounding comically high given he muscled body.

Caleb cocked his head to the side, doing his best to identify the transformed wall of muscle but his mind kept coming up blank. Whoever he was, he certainly didn’t seem to be planning on taking his face out of the hairy crotch in front of him any time soon.

“Yeah, he’s a good boy. Only problem is, he’s rushing fuckin’ Kappa Kappa Delt. Can you believe that? I usually don’t wet my dick outside of the family, but it’s not like he’s officially a lost cause yet.”

An image surfaced in Caleb’s mind. Nick, though older than any other guy in the frat, was just about the best recruiter they had. All the twinky little freshmen who came to college with hopes and dreams of everything being different and somehow better than high school were always drawn to him like a moth to a flame. The guy practically looked like a big ol’ teddy bear, ready to hug and cuddle at a moment’s notice. With a new life on a big scary campus, it was no wonder that so many twinks pledged the frat just to be closer to him.

“Whaddya say?” Asked Kevin, pulling the muscle slut’s face away from his cock. “You wanna pledge Kappa Sig instead? Make your daddy real proud?”

The muscle man just gave his head a quick nod before burying his face back between Kevin’s thick, alabaster legs and continued slurping. Part of Caleb was disgusted at the faggy scene unfolding in front of him, while another part just smiled and rolled its eyes. Kevin sure did have a way with the twinky dudes, even if they were in a manly boi’s body.

“Oh fuck, I just remembered…” Blurted Kevin, grabbing a cell phone out of the pants that laid on the ground around his ankles. After a few taps on the screen, he gave a little smile and put the device back into his pocket.

“What was that?” Asked Caleb, unable to look away from the sloppy blow job in front of him.

"Oh, Mark was looking for you earlier and asked me to text him if you showed up. No idea what he wanted, but seemed pretty antsy.

Fear shot up Caleb’s spine. He saw the positions reversed with him on the receiving end of the cursed beer. He could picture the rage and confusion he would have been feeling. Without another word to Kevin, Caleb turned on the spot and hurried towards the door. He needed to get out. Out of the kitchen. Out of the frat house. Out of the state if need be.

He had only just begun to formulate his escape plan when he ran square into Nick’s broad chest. With a smile and a nod of his head, the usual chill and gentle redhead pulled his fist back and brought it hard against Caleb’s face. The room erupted into a flurry of stars before fading into shades of darkening grey and he felt his legs begin to give way.

“You know the rules man. You were late to an official party, you gotta play a game of catch up.”

Caleb felt himself being dragged from the kitchen across the sleek hardwood of the attached game room. When his blurry vision came back into focus, he saw that he was back in the living room, the heart of the party, with his fellow frat brothers all still celebrating around him. With a powerful shove, Nick pushed him down into a sturdy wooden chair before walking over to the stereo and cranking the volume way down.

“Hey, guys! I know you’re having a ton of fun, and I want you to keep on doing that, but we’ve got a major violation of the charter.” Began Mark, standing on his tiptoes to rise above the crowd. “Caleb, a senior member of the most venerable brotherhood of Kappa Sig, was more than an hour late to an officially sanctioned party. You all know what that means.”

The chant began immediately all around Mark. Calls of chug from all of his brothers, their faces alight with smiles while their fists pumped rhythmically in the air. He had been part of the crowd many times before himself. If any brother was late for a party, the others got to mix a drink for them, however large and out of whatever booze they wanted, and the late party had to drink it. It made sure that everyone showed up on time, and that if anyone didn’t, they would catch up with their bros rather than be a wet, sober blanket.

“Alright, a little bit of this, and this. What do you think babe? Half a bottle of this one?” Asked Mark, turning to Nick, who shrugged in return. “Alright, full bottle then, why not.”

Caleb watched Mark mix the remnants of half drank bottles into the oversized golden solo cup that the frat kept for just such occasions. Three, five, six, the number of brews he was mixing just kept climbing up and up. Some were poured straight from the keg or freshly opened bottles, while others consisted of the last few sips of discarded, but not quite killed, beers.

“Alright, I think that just about does it.” Said Mark, handing the sloshing cup to Nick.

Mark fished around one of the tables that held half empty bowls of snacks and cases of beers, pulling out a long clear tube and a funnel. He walked up to Caleb with a look that was equal parts apology, anger and playful exuberance. He was getting his revenge. He didn’t want to see another of his bro’s transformed. This was just one of the rules of the frat. All the thoughts were swirling behind his eyes in a frantic haze.

Cable returned Mark’s gaze and, surprising even himself, gave a little nod. He knew he couldn’t run, not now that everyone’s eyes were focused on him. His only option was to drink the beer. Apart from that, deep down in the pit of his stomach, he thought he even wanted to do it, just a little bit. As an apology for setting the entire mess into motion, as a way to make sure he stayed in the frat and didn’t lose the friend’s that had truly become like family to him over the years.

He parted his lips and took the tube in his mouth, breathing deeply through his nose and savouring the last moments of his old life before it was changed forever. With the chant of “chug” growing louder all around them, Nick started pouring the mixed brew into the funnel. The dark, swamp-like mixture coursed through the tube and into Caleb’s mouth, his throat relaxing and letting the hoppy brew slide straight down his throat and into his stomach.

His body felt as though it were on fire when the first drop of the mixture hit his guts. His mind tore in so many directions at the same time that he thought he could actually feel the splintering of his skull trying to expand and make room for all the new information coursing through his brain.

A loud thud rose up above the fading chant and Caleb felt a shot of pain shoot through his body. Looking down, he saw that his clothes had somehow vanished, leaving him buck-naked in the sturdy wooden chair. His cock had snaked its way down past his knees and flopped onto the floor, the exact length of his legs, although only as thick as his wrist.

Caleb let out a loud belching groan, feeling his stomach push out so obscenely that it looked as though he had swallowed a full-blown yoga ball. The look was neither fully muscular nor fully fat, leaving him looking halfway between pregnant and with a serious case of roid gut. With another loud and pained groan, Caleb watched his firm and sculpted chest push out and inflate. Unlike his stomach, his pecs were pure and perfect muscle, looking a strangely defined counterpoint to his rounded and squishy looking gut.

A shudder travelled through his pecs as a sensation of an orgasm filled his crotch. Instead of springing out of the tip of his cock, however, the load began to leak out of both of his nipples, dribbling down his massive pecs and onto his impossibly rounded gut. Caleb saw the guys standing around him, looking at him with smiles and grins as he transformed. He knew that, no matter how freakish he wound up, he would be welcomed, a brother without question.

Calebs skin darkened from pale alabaster to fake tan brown while pitch black tattoos began to spin their way up his body. Tribal style fire leapt up his forearms and calves while a large Kappa formed on his right pec, followed by the symbol for Sigma on his left. His hair turned from natural to bleach blonde and lost its playful curl, shooting straight up with styling gel into a sea of douchey spikes.

“Dude, get a look of his back!” Cried one of his brothers with a laugh.

A series of extremely detailed and lifelike cock tattoos had appeared on Caleb’s expansive back. Each cock looked as though it must have taken hours to be inked perfectly into his skin and was accompanied with the corresponding brother’s initials. With a final surge of power, Caleb’s already huge body shot up, his new weight shattering the chair beneath him.

Caleb got to his feet uneasily and rubbed his head, noticing immediately that he towered over everyone else in the room. He noted that the ceiling was only a few inches away from the top of his head, an impossible and intimidating seven foot five. His lower half had thickened significantly, giving him wide redwood-legs to support his now truly giant frame while his wide feet looked as though clown shoes would be a natural fit.

“Ohhhhh fuccckkkk.” Groaned Caleb, his voice so deep it came out as more of a growl. “I need a fuckin’ cock in my ass.”

“What else is new?” Called a leather-clad bro at the back of the room, prompting a laugh from the rest of the frat.

Caleb bent over the nearby table, keeping as much of his weight on his own legs as he could. He didn’t have to wait long before he felt a thick, wide cock push up between his massive muscle butt. He didn’t know who was fucking him, but he didn’t care. All he needed in life was his beers, his brothers and a never-ending stream of dick to satisfy his hungry bottom.

His long, thick cock swayed from side to side like a pendulum from the force of the fucking he was getting. With his new height, his cock didn’t reach the floor any longer, only as long as his legs had previously been. He thought with a smile about all the crap his bros had given him over the years about his situation. A huge guy with a massive cock that couldn’t even get hard. It didn’t matter to him though, the pleasure he got from men pawning at his body, sucking his muscle tits and pounding his hole was better than any pleasure he might get from topping, of that he was sure.

“Alright, guys! Caleb’s caught up. The night is young and the booze is flowing. Let’s keep this party going and show the campus what Kappa Sig is all about!” Shouted Mark over the deep rumble of Caleb’s groans.

The brothers throughout the house gave a series of whoops and cheers before the music was cranked up to full blast. Caleb joined in the cheering, feeling a warm load fill his ass before the fullness feeling of cock left his ass, replaced mere seconds later by another dick.

He smiled and let loose another low rumbling groan. With all that had changed in the short twenty-four hours since their last party, one thing had remained the same. Kappa Sig was a family through and through and there wasn’t a force in the entire universe that could change that.


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