Pledging the Pregnant Sorority

I only wound up at Helping House because of all the staring. Every class, every meal, every walk across campus, every time I passed another resident in my dorm: the moment I started showing I could feel every eye I passed gluing itself to my midsection. A pregnant college student was a rare sight, I knew, but I had no idea I'd garner this level of attention. I felt humiliated, constantly being examined under a disapproving microscope. My trusty, baggy sweatshirt helped me hide from constant judgment through a good deal of my second trimester, but by 6 months along I couldn't successfully hide my condition from any but the most passive observers.

I considered dropping out; then I Googled the name of the university along with "pregnant students" and learned about Helping House. It wasn't officially within the Greek system (nor located as close to campus as the traditional houses, thank god), but was for all intents and purposes a sorority. And its active members were exclusively knocked-up women looking for a little help through their difficult situations: help that could be academic, financial, safety-related, you name it. Including me, there were seven current members when I started pledging. Pledging turned out to be...quite a unique experience, let's say.

My name's Chelsea, by the way. I've always been a tomboy (sports, men's clothing, etc.), and would probably call myself pansexual orientation-wise. As a late bloomer, I had no sexual experience to speak of prior to college. I was too shy to do much flirting even once I left home, despite being a horny coed fantasizing about having sex with a solid 75% of my fellow students. The first time a guy paid attention to me at a party, I was his for the taking in minutes. It's embarrassing to admit, but I didn't have the best sexual education in my conservative-leaning public school district, and was easily convinced to let this creep fuck me without a condom. He promised to pull out, of course; and he neglected to do so, of course. I learned I was pregnant during finals week of my first semester.

Lindsay and Emily, Helping House's current co-presidents (7 and 7.5 months along, respectively), were enthusiastically welcoming right from our initial get-to-know-you Skype session. They said they had an open bedroom I could move into as soon as I pleased and they were happy to start the pledging process immediately; I transferred my personal effects from the dorm to the sorority two days later. My room was modest but all mine, which was a tremendous relief after spending months with a roommate made so clearly uncomfortable by my changing body.

The house was a nice old Victorian, six bedrooms (Lindsay and Emily shared a room) and three baths (still not enough for seven preggos, I'd learn over and over). The atmosphere around Helping House tended to be quiet and friendly, really nice setting aside an idiosyncrasy or two. One little issue was the seemingly constant soundtrack provided by the gagging and puking of Holly (2.5 months) in the downstairs bathroom. You got used to it eventually, but it was never the most pleasant aspect of the ambience. Far more enjoyable was the presence of Sarah (6.5 months), always in the house's common areas and always buck naked. She was seriously hot, a good quality in an exhibitionist one ends up living with.

Further mood-setting was provided by the PDA of Lindsay and Emily, who were apparently romantically involved and far from shy about showing it. Bellies were bared and caressed very regularly, though participation in that behavior extended well beyond the couple. The final two sisters, Tara (8.5 months) and Liz (5 months), rarely made appearances outside their rooms. Tara was at the borderline immobile stage of her third trimester, and Liz was extremely shy even in this more pregnant-friendly environment.

"Pledging" actively began the night after I moved in; I put it in quotes because it was a lot closer to what most people would refer to as "hazing." Once the sun went down, Lindsay and Emily told me to remove my clothes and head outside; they'd come let me back in when they decided it was time. It was mid-Spring so it wasn't brutally cold, just pretty chilly. My already-sensitive nipples were sore and painfully erect in minutes; I was relieved when they went numb a few more minutes in. Other than that, my pregnancy's usual overheated state kept me in a sort of equilibrium temperature-wise.

The issue bigger than the cold was the public nudity within our thickly-settled, family-heavy neighborhood. We didn't really have any backyard to speak of, so that easy solution was out. On either side of me, our closest neighbors' lights were on and cars were in driveways. Same for the closest three houses across the street. Hiding my nude, flamboyantly pregnant self was my highest priority and a substantial challenge. We did have a row of three privacy hedges next to the house, but they were only 3 feet tall for some reason.

Nonetheless, they were my best option. I sat cross-legged behind them, sensitive pussy tickled by the damp grass. I held one arm against my boobs to warm my nipples, the other rubbing my bump in a maternal instinct-based attempt to keep my baby warm. I was there for just over two hours before the girls finally took pity on me, meeting me outside with a robe I declined with a dismissive wave of my hand. They were impressed by how casually I strolled back into the house with them, apparently unfazed by my time outside or nudity in front of them. Turns out I'm pretty tough and maybe just a bit of an exhibitionist (at least with my cute pregnant physique).

The next piece of "pledging" was far more public, but I could at least keep my clothes on. I was to fake going into labor in my largest course, a 150-person Psychology 101 class. Lindsay and Emily would attend the class and escort me out after a few minutes, so as not to trigger any unneeded medical attention and the complications that could incur. My bump was still pretty modest to pass off as full-term, but we figured I was pregnant enough for people not to think about that too much (and we were very much correct on this point).

I sat close to the center of the auditorium, the better to attract maximum attention. My performance started with grasping my belly with both hands and breathing loudly. This grabbed the attention of the people sitting within a radius of about three persons from me. Not nearly enough. After two minutes or so of the audible breathing, I let loose a single and hearty moan. No head remained unturned, including the professor's, who abruptly halted his lecture. "Are you okay?" one of the student's next to me asked.

I nodded, biting my lips through the fake pain. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's just Braxton-Hicks, happens all the time lately." To get attention off myself for at least a moment, I waved toward the professor and smiled so he'd resume the class. He did, but I only let him speak for half a sentence before I moaned even louder. "Oh my god, I'm in labor! My water just broke!" I yelled out as the baggie of water in my panties I'd just punctured started to wet my crotch and legs.. Putting my chin to my chest and tightly shutting my eyes, I grasped my belly through a pretend contraction. I opened my eyes back up after 30 seconds or so, looking to Lindsay and Emily in the row behind me.

"Let's get you out of here," Lindsay said as they stood up and sidled out of their row. I stood slowly, always gripping my belly, and slowly made my way out of my central seat toward the aisle, purposefully slapping my belly into every person I squeezed by. Finally, I reached Lindsay and Emily in the aisle and they took me by both arms, escorting me out of the lecture hall. We barely made it out the door before we all started giggling uncontrollably. The whole thing had been less humiliating than I'd expected, and a hell of a lot more fun. Maybe hazing wasn't necessarily all bad...

The day after my public labor role-play, I had a big chunk of free time I decided to spend getting comfortable in the house's common areas. Which meant, of course, that I put myself in close proximity to the always-naked Sarah. And one can only stare at such beauty for so long without getting certain ideas. She had striking red hair, long and perfectly straight. There didn't appear to be an extra ounce of fat on her even 6.5 months into her pregnancy, the svelte curves of her breasts, bump, ass and thighs all somehow blending together in an alluringly elegant fashion. Her proportions all just seemed to be in perfect balance, like something out of a fine arts textbook.

She was on the couch, idly playing with her fire-red crotch with one hand and left nipple with the other, when I felt compelled to finally make my move. I sat right next to her, myself clad only in a loosely-cinched robe; she hardly seemed to register my presence. How do you break the ice with someone you constantly see completely naked? What ice is there left to break? To boot, this was going to be my first time doing anything sexual with another lady. Someone so breathtakingly confident seemed like a wise place to start, though I found myself rather intimidated by her in the moment. I finally spoke, timidly but managing a full sentence: "Hey, Sarah, do you mind if I join you?"

She gave me a quizzical look and replied, "I think you already have, but sure, be my guest." I hadn't been clear verbally, so I took a deep breath and clarified my intentions by springing into action. I stood, undid my robe, and let it fall to the floor. There I stood, a comparatively chubby preggo in front of an exhibitionist model. She smiled, apparently appreciating what I had to offer, and I breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Ohhhh, okay," she said. Laying on her back, she gestured for me to come back to the couch. "Let's 69." Right where anyone could walk in, just as I'm sure she liked it. She'd clearly suffer no argument, so I got into position and we began.

Her technique was amazing, a whirlwind of suction and firm tongue work that got me off twice in what felt like moments. My technique was amateurish by comparison, of course, though I focused diligently on her clit and was proud to get her off in three or four minutes. I got off her and got my robe back on; she nonchalantly turned on the TV and started channel-surfing. I wondered if we'd ever discuss this again; I highly doubted it.

My next bit of "pledging" was a bit extreme, but I felt pretty committed by this point, and they weren't asking me to do anything illegal. Just ethically suspect, let's say. "Give a BJ to a TA during his office hours," Emily instructed matter-of-factly. I instantly knew which TA was my best bet: the hirsute, lanky TA from my political science course couldn't keep his eyes off me. I went to his office hours in my tightest, shortest pre-pregnancy dress, nearly splitting at the seams with my added girth. The TA was speechless upon my entrance, so I helped myself to the empty seat next to him.

"I need your help," I began. "Not with the class, though." I rubbed my bump with both hands, slowly and seductively. "I've seen you looking at me and my belly...and I like it. All these immature undergrads won't give me the time of day. But I need...I crave, really...cum. Take your cock out for me, baby." Still shocked into silence, he did as he was told. I got to my knees in front of him and blew away, not even bothering with any fancy technique; he still shot his load within 90 seconds. I swallowed most of it and wiped the bit of cum left on my lip right onto my black dress: I needed a stain to show my success to the girls, after all.

The pledging activities came hard and fast; at least I was getting them over with, I figured. Next on the docket was a hazing classic: on-campus streaking. I should've seen it coming, but it still horrified me a bit, at least in theory. I still had some body issues with my preggo ass, apparently, as my first thoughts went to feeling bad for the people who'd have to see me naked. Who wanted to see a pregnant girl totally nude? Then I thought about Sarah's constant nudity; while I may not be quite comparable to her magnificence, I would still be quite a sight to behold. At the very least, I'd give my audience something to remember. I can't imagine all that many college students have gotten the pleasure of witnessing an in-the-flesh naked knocked-up girl. That day that changed, though.

We planned around bathrooms; buildings with facilities near their entrances would be ideal. In the starting bathroom, I stashed the clothes I began in. In one about 100 yards away, I stashed another set of clothing. This minimized the amount of time I'd spend indoors and naked, which somehow seemed like more of a risk than outdoor streaking. And streaking tends to be an outdoor activity generally anyway, right? I got nude in the stall of the first bathroom, sweating already just at the thought of my exposed run. Or, moderate jog, really: I wasn't ultra-pregnant yet or anything, but I still wasn't capable of full-on sprinting by any means. I took a deep breath to gather a bit of courage, left the stall and walked past two girls fixing their makeup in the bathroom mirrors. Two jaws dropped, about two hundred to go...

I got out of the starting building without being seen by anyone else, beginning my jog as soon as I exited the door. It was 12:30 in the afternoon, a busy time for students going to and from classes and lunch. And it was a beautiful day, to boot. The area was pretty crowded, as I'm sure my tormentors knew it would be. I must've heard 50 instances of perplexed "What the..." statements on my little jaunt. My droopy tits bounced wildly even at my rather moderate pace, pregnancy-created extra pockets of fat jiggling all over me. I was quite the spectacle, I imagined. Heads turned, jaws dropped, folks stopped in their tracks: all the responses one would imagine. Two or three gigantic smiles suggested I may even have made the day of a few fetishists.

I got through the nude trip in about two minutes, re-dressing in the bathroom of the second building and chilling there for 20 minutes to catch my breath and let the witnesses disperse before returning for my other set of clothing. Overall, it was actually a pretty fun experience. I moved to Helping House to avoid looks at my pregnant form, and flaunting it so outrageously had a certain perverse, counter-intuitive appeal. They liked to look at me? Let them see the whole fucking deal.

Just one more activity before I was through the pledging process, they assured me. They told me to come up to Tara's room, a first for me, at an appointed time. As the furthest along in pregnancy, Tara had a sort of seniority in this all-pregnant sorority, out-ranking even Lindsay and Emily. I hadn't spent much time with her as of yet, but was happy to have an opportunity before the imminent end of her pregnancy. When I knocked on her door, I heard Emily happily shout "Come in!" I opened it to find Emily, Lindsay, and Tara laying in a row on Tara's bed...all completely naked. "For your final mission," Lindsay began, "you're going to have to get each of us off five times. Get to work, bitch!" This was going to be a tiring activity, I thought. And it was pretty damn self-serving, making their own pleasure part of my initiation. Nevertheless, I prepared myself to get to work.

This was my first time seeing Tara in the nude. She was almost certainly a bit BBW pre-pregnancy, and was quite the filled-out specimen at 8.5 months along. Her pendulous, clearly milk-filled tits hung to either side of her chest, her massive bump sticking up dramatically from the rest of her. She was huge, and I was instantly wet. All-belly Emily and curvy Lindsay looked pretty damned good, too. Tara was in the center of them, Emily on the left and Lindsay on the right. I started by going down on Tara with a hand on each of the other two's pussies, trying to work the task at hand efficiently. In short order, I got Tara off twice and Lindsay and Emily each once. A good start, I thought.

But I quickly realized just how into it I was getting, and started moving from pussy to pussy based less on counting orgasms and more on my own horny whims. Lindsay's clean-shaven look appealed for a few minutes, then I wanted to move over to Emily's well-trimmed bush, then back to Tara's unkempt forest. I lost all track of how many climaxes I'd inspired, but the moaning from at least one person in the room was just about constant. They'd usually touch themselves or each other when I wasn't actively working on them: they were lost in it, too, it seemed. I touched myself briefly, too, getting myself off in about 10 seconds.

It was all so fucking hot. As hot as anything I'd ever experienced, frankly. We kept going, to my delight, for what turned out to be an entire hour. I wanted to go again as soon as we possibly could. I wanted to spend all my time naked and aroused in this house of preggos, much as Sarah chose to do. I wanted pussies on my mouth and hands at all times. I wanted to get knocked-up again as soon as I gave birth so I'd never have to leave Helping House. I wanted to be hazed forever...