The Thin College

[Mr.Grignard]

Oh no, you’re in for it now, champ.
I haven’t been this giddy about a story since my school boy days. Although, with the number of factions and plot twists growing by the minute, I’m starting to lose track. Maybe if Jane has some free time, she could make a chart of pros and cons for each of her “allies”.

[>_< 0_0]

1 hour ago, Mr.Grignard said:

Oh no, you’re in for it now, champ.
I haven’t been this giddy about a story since my school boy days. Although, with the number of factions and plot twists growing by the minute, I’m starting to lose track. Maybe if Jane has some free time, she could make a chart of pros and cons for each of her “allies”.

I’ve toyed with making an actual chart of hexes and factions, maybe even a map of the island. I was also tempted not to because I didn’t want to be like those amateurs who post their character profiles and plot outlines instead of writing the actual story 😑 But even George R R Martin had to do it after awhile... I wanna write though. Also tempted to draw scenes/characters, but I don’t mind fan art 👀

[bahbah]

Write on you glorious bastard

[>_< 0_0]

1 hour ago, bahbah said:

Write on you glorious bastard

[>_< 0_0]

 

This song was honestly stuck in my head the entire time I was writing this.

Chapter Fifty-Four

               Once again, I was in the small police building on the edge of campus, sitting stiffly in a wooden seat as I nervously pondered my questionable fate. There was something about police stations that instilled an unmistakeable sense of imminent doom. Hell, even being spoken to by a policewoman was enough to make you wonder if your life’s dreams were about to end. I was now experiencing both.

               I couldn’t say what kind of room I was in, but it was cramped, filled with a couple desks littered with junk. My seat – my narrow, wooden seat – was wedged between two walls and a desk, while the tall policewoman in the room with me dominated the room with a swivel chair.

               “Look at me, Jane,” she said sternly.

               I was staring at the linoleum floor, but I could tell her eyes piercing my soul.

               “Why won’t you look at me?”

               “It’s just…” I glanced through my bangs just enough to catch sight of the sidearm strapped to her utility belt. “My eyes are kind of red…”

               “You must have a lot going through your head,” she stated calmly. “Why don’t you tell me about it? Want to tell me what you were doing trespassing under the lighthouse?”

               “Wait… trespassing? I wasn’t doing that.”

               “So you need to realize something,” the woman rolled her chair towards me until her splayed knees nearly bumped against mine. “We know you don’t live there –”

               “I do…” I stammered, eyes resting upon the handcuffs on the other side of her belt.

               “I have word…” she leaned close, patting the desk for emphasis. “From six residents of the lighthouse who say you don’t live there.”

               “But I’ve slept –”

               “Listen to me, Jane,” her level voice was laced with morbid seriousness. “There’s no way that anyone would let you down there. Hey… look at me.”

               Her face was a beautiful mixture of browns, her tan skin matching her hazel eyes and tight, brown hair. She was close enough for me to see that she’d applied a hint of dark makeup to her thin lips to make them stand-out more. For anyone else, her looks would have emitted warmth, but I could sense no compassion within her, only judgement.

               “We’re talking to your friend now,” her lips barely moved, but every syllable pained me worse than a piercing scream. “Brenda, right? You know each other?”

               “Yes?”

               “She says going down there was your idea. Is that true?”

               “No,” I whispered towards the floor.

               “Pay attention to me Jane. Do you realise how this looks to us? We know you were trespassing, the only witness in there with you says it was your idea, and two other witnesses – faculty – caught you down there. It’s easy math, Jane. It all adds up; easy as one, two, three…”

               She leaned back in her chair, relieving some of the pressure on my tormented soul. As the chair creaked loudly, the gear on her belt shifted. I couldn’t help but wonder how fast she could pepper-spray me.

               “This is serious, Jane,” she cocked an elbow upon the handrest, brushing thumb and forefinger slowly against each other. “I’m a police officer, not a detective. I can’t just magically sense what happened down there. Right now, everything points to you, and I don’t have to tell you there are serious consequences at stake.”

               Every instinct in my being told me to run, to summon a fat pill deep in her throat to blimp her up like I did the Dean, but I knew that I couldn’t count on being transformed again. Hell, for all I knew, the bullet-proof exit to the lobby outside was locked tight! Running wouldn’t get me farther than the hallway, and then I’d be left at the mercy of whatever weapon she drew first.

               “S-should I get a lawyer?” I asked.

               “A lawyer? Do you know how much a good lawyer costs? Jane, the court system takes a long time, and in the meantime, you’ll be kicked out of school, waiting for a hearing, and when that finally happens, your money is gone and you’ll never graduate. No, you don’t want a lawyer.”

               She leaned closer, hands gripping her armrests. “Your only option… is to talk. Tell me everything, right here, right now.”

               I shrank against the wall, cornered and helpless. What could I get away with telling her? How much did she know?

               I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “W-where do I start…”

               Then the door opened. Julia – the friendly-blonde cop – was peering in.

               “Hey,” she gestured at my attacker. “Do you have a minute?”

               “Sure,” the bad cop answered, chair creaking as she stood-up. “Give us a minute, Jane. Think real carefully about what your next decision is.”

               Just before the door was shut, Julia gave me a wink.

               “Oh fuck,” I held my head. What the hell were they doing? I never watched crime-dramas, but even I knew the good-cop/bad-cop game. What did that wink mean? More importantly, what had Zoltan and Buxley told them? What had Brenda told them? How was I supposed to weasel myself out of this? I was basically flying blind!

               Nothing moved in the room. There wasn’t even a clock. The only source of life was through the orange sliver of light shining from under the door. I watched as dark, foot-sized shadows passed it by, back and forth. Muffled voices shared curt words with each other, too faint to hear. At last, a shadow approached the door, Julia’s voice leaking through as the doorknob rattled.

               “Her eyes, man.”

               “I’ll be back,” Julia answered, swinging the door open as she slid inside with me. “Just a sec.”

               The door was shut.

               “Hey Jane,” she smiled with a shake of her head. “What a day this is. It’ll take an hour to get the report done.”

               I didn’t reply. How could I tell if she was pretending to be friendly?

               Julia was unfazed by my reaction. Instead of sitting in the rolling chair, she leaned casually against the far wall with a cocked leg and folded her arms. “Brenda confessed. It matches with the teachers’ testimony. It’s over.”

               “It is?” a weight lifted from my shoulders.

               “Come on, let’s get out there. Want coffee again?”

               “I’d… love to!” I replied, staring at the back of Julia’s legs. They’d slimmed down to their original size since the “fat bomb” incident at the clinic, but that didn’t mean they had to stay that way. “Um… what did Brenda say?”

               “Does it matter?” she held the door open for me.

               “Yeah, um…” I ducked under her arm and entered the hallway, following her somewhat stiff-walking hips towards the break room. “Did she mention anything about me? Also, a necklace?”

               “We took care of that, don’t worry,” Julia approached the coffee pot and reached up towards the cabinet for clean cups, firm, round buns on display through her blue uniform as she flexed her feet for extra reach. “We know that you didn’t want to steal that thing. Zoltan and Buxley overheard that idiot ranting as she came up the stairs, so it was pretty easy to call her out on her attempts to lie… laffy taffy?”

               “Huh?”

               “Cream? Sugar?”

               “Oh! Nah… I like black.”

               “Me too,” Julia leaned sideways against the counter and poured two cups. “You know, I can only imagine what you’re going through – and I’m not trying to reopen wounds or anything, so I’m sorry if that came across wrong.”

               “It’s alright,” I accepted the cup and revelled in the heat seeping through my fingers. “I don’t feel bad anymore.”

               “I mean, first Jason, and now Brenda tried to take advantage of you. If you need someone to talk to, you can always talk to me.”

               “Yeah…” I shrugged, sipping a few drops with my fingers laced loosely around the cup. One of the fingers was pointed at Julia’s cup for a moment. Fifteen pounds. More than enough to pique my interest. “What happened to the necklace, by the way?”

               “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be back where it belongs soon,” she took a sip of her own coffee and frowned, staring into her cup. “There was one thing I was wondering about. Some of the girls who live in the lighthouse said you’d been sleeping with them for the last couple days.”

               “Well, yeah.”

               “What’s up with that?” Julia took another sip, eyeing me from over the cup’s brim.

               I knew she was probing me for information, but confidence swelled within me. The creases and folds in her blue trousers were already beginning to smoothen themselves. I was the one in control, one way or another.

               “I’ve been having a wonderful time over there!” I beamed a broad smile while hugging my cup close to let the hot fumes waft over my chin. “I’ve been making so many friends! I might try and be a Kappa next year.”

               “Just be careful about it, okay?” Julia replied as she moved to drink again. “Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you, but I think we both wish that didn’t have to happen as often as it already has…”

               “Yeah,” I eyed a fold of fabric on her inner thigh flatten against the skin pressing underneath it. “I wouldn’t mind coming back and talking sometime, though.”

               Julia didn’t answer, but stole a glance down at her thighs filling her trousers. She gave me a look that was different than the warm smile she’d shared before, and it made me nervous. Did she suspect what was happening to her? Did she suspect me?

               “So,” she looked down at her coffee again. “I’m not always on shift. If I’m not around when you need me, I know of a therapist at the clinic you can talk to.”

               “Therapist?” revulsion overcame my pondering thoughts.

               “Yeah,” Julia smiled. “I can leave you a number.”

               “Therapist,” I repeated softly, staring into my steaming coffee. “Why do people think paying someone to listen to your life’s problems is any help?”

               “Don’t overthink it,” Julia smiled. “Humans are social animals. It does one some good to just let all their feelings out – to just talk to someone. It helps a lot.”

               “Social animals…” I let the syllables roll slowly over my tongue. “I get it. No one craves socializing more than I do.”

               Julia nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of her coffee.

               “I’ve always wanted a relationship,” I continued. “I’ve never been loved, you know. So I guess I should just find a strip club and buy myself a quick lap dance.”

               “Huh?” Julia couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you getting at?”

               “And I have no friends to talk to either, so I should buy myself a therapy session with a psychiatrist.”

               “Jane,” Julia rolled her eyes. “That’s kinda extreme. What are you getting at?”

               “Don’t you see Julia?” I stared at her as I took a sip of my steaming coffee. “Prostitutes? Therapists? Whatever you want to call them? They’re the same thing. A professional con-artist, selling you love, attention and affection.”

               “But you’re wrong about therapists, Jane,” Julia shook her head. “They’re actual professionals – trained in college, just like you and me. Lots of them got masters in what they do.”

               “My sister married a therapist,” I nodded slowly, slurping deeply as I gathered my thoughts. “Works at a homeless shelter, apparently. Gives free therapy. Pretty good gig…” I drank again. The coffee was burning my tongue, but I didn’t care. “About six months into the marriage, he admits that he’s been cheating on her. Doctor diagnoses him with… ‘bipolarism.’ He can’t come to terms with settling-down, apparently, so he fucks some crackhead he met at the shelter. What does my sister do? She calls another therapist. A ‘marriage’ therapist.”

               Julia was clearly shocked, judging by the way she leaned further back from me. I caught myself glowering at her, baring my teeth. It must’ve looked somewhat unnerving , a little girl with red eyes frowning at her from behind wild bangs of hair. I shut my lips tight, trying to salvage the conversation. I wasn’t mad at her, I wasn’t made at anyone. I just wanted a real friend.

               “I’ve met students here who say they’re majoring in psychology,” I continued in a softer tone. “Drunken, spoiled girls who care more about getting easy ‘A’s’ more than actually helping anyone. They’re the ones who become these psychologists and psychiatrists everyone keeps telling me to talk to. They’re con-artists, Julia… I don’t want to talk to a con-artist about how screwed-up my life is…”

               Where were these tears coming from? Water welled-up from the bottom of my eyes, balanced precariously over my lower-lashes as I stared into Julia’s beautiful face.

               “… I don’t want to buy a lap dance. I want a real relationship… I want a real friend to talk to…”

               The water rising against my eyes made my vision flutter. At last, a drop fell down my cheek. Where was all this grief coming from? I was ashamed of myself for losing control of my emotions.

               Slowly, Julia set her cup of coffee onto the counter. “It’s alright Jane… college is a rough change from where you grew up. I get it… I had to do it too, but – whoa, okay… okay…”

               I couldn’t help myself. As soon as she began to spread her arms, I dove for her, embracing her body, absorbing any semblance of warmth I could. My head was buried into the nook between her neck and clavicle, rocking with every breath from our bodies. I couldn’t help myself from sniffling as my grief overcame me.

               What evolutionary purpose does crying have for humanity? What god cursed us with such a weakness? It defied logic itself, the tears just pour out and you start wailing. It’s the first thing a newborn does. It’s a cry for help, because the world is cruel.

 

               Buxley was waiting patiently in the station lobby as I walked out free. I’d managed to sniff the tears away, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my eyes were still red – well, more red.

               “You’re wearing shades again,” she stood up as I approached.

               “Julia let me have one of her spare aviators,” I smiled.

               “I suppose it’s alright, considering we aren’t in class.”

               “Yeah, my eyes are still red from the… whatever.”

               “I noticed,” Buxley pushed the front door open for me. “Come on. We’ll take a walk.”

               “Thanks,” I swallowed nervously as I ducked under her stiff arm. Considering the haste to get me and Brenda to the police for questioning, she was still wearing her shorts and track jacket combo from her cheer-coaching days, a vibrant, royal red with white trims on the edges. It was taking all my willpower not to stare down her body towards her curvaceous lower-half.

               “So do you have the necklace?” I pressed awkwardly, staring onwards down the cobblestone path as we walked under douglas firs and incense cedars.

               “Zoltan is holding onto it,” Buxley replied. “She was an empress back in the day, after all, and not just an… unorthodox visitor.”

               “Oh,” I pursed my lips. “That makes sense, actually.”

               “Remind me again what you two were doing down there?”

               I had to be careful replying. Buxley may or may not have heard Brenda’s testimony, and who knew what story Brenda had told? Incriminating myself so quickly after regaining my freedom would just be embarrassing.

               “It’s horrible,” I stared upwards, through the overhanging branches to glimpse rays of sunlight through the fir canopy. “My red eyes… they aren’t returning to normal. Plus, Brenda started blimping-up at about the same time. It’s not the only weird stuff going on. There’s other girls who are changing – way faster than normal…” I paused my explanation for a few steps, crafting my speech carefully in my head before continuing. “I went to Brenda for help. She said we’d been cursed. She told me there was an heirloom under the lighthouse that would help us. Turns out she just wanted it herself and was going to leave me down there –”

               “I know,” Buxley replied.

               “Am I cursed?” I asked. “What if it gets worse? When I was with Brenda, there were times when she’d get even fatter than she already was. What’s going to happen to me?”

               Buxley slowed her pace. We were approaching the statue of Boudica, the whore-turned-empress of Byzantium, staring down at us from an imposing height of ten feet with soulless, obsidian eyes. I always felt a chill whenever I walked in front of it.

               “Jane,” Buxley said softly. “What you saw down there in that cave is but the tip of the iceberg. Most students – most everyone – pass through these halls without realizing the true history of this campus and the island it rests upon.”

               We were standing under the statue now, having stopped walking altogether. It being almost dinnertime, most of the classes were finished for the day, and the nearest student was walking down a path across an open field from us.

               “Now,” Buxley looked towards Boudica. “Normally, it wouldn’t be right to tell you anything, but given the circumstances… now then, where to start… what knowledge can I trust you with…”

               “What? What’s going on? How do we change me and Brenda back to normal?”

               “Alright. Here’s what you need to know: this island… it’s not a normal island. That ‘heirloom’ Brenda took you to is part large collection of heirlooms from all over the island. Each one serves to protect us from outside forces in some way. Some weeks ago… something happened. Somehow, something got through, and right now, everything points to Jason Alban.”

               “Jason? But… why do you think Jason’s the one that cursed me?”

               “We’ve been searching for him for a long time – the faculty and security. I’m sure you heard of the peeping incident?”

               “No?”

               “Regardless, his unusual behaviour indicated something was going-on, especially after the Dean – never mind.”

               “Huh?”

               “It isn’t important. In any case, this is an island. That means he’s still out there, and finding him is the key to solving this.”

               “Isn’t there something we could do?” I continued the con, acutely aware that my survival depended on looking dumb and innocent.

               “There is,” Buxley nodded. “We took Brenda from the police station. We’re going to use the necklace to sense if she is cursed. As for you,” she reached out and squeezed my narrow shoulder. “We’ll look at you next.”

[Batman76]

Oh wow, this is shaping up with some real tension. The mystery of the island and Jane's own unraveling mental state.

 

One crit tough, Boudica was a British celtic queen. I think you're referring to Empress Theodora...who should really have a WG story of her own, athletic stripper becoming a beloved empress, ending all of her physical activity while gaining access to a smorgashborg of an empire.

[Lolkingjoe]

Nice chapter!

I wonder if Jane will have to hex herself to appear innocent? 🤔

[>_< 0_0]

2 hours ago, Batman76 said:

Oh wow, this is shaping up with some real tension. The mystery of the island and Jane's own unraveling mental state.

 

One crit tough, Boudica was a British celtic queen. I think you're referring to Empress Theodora...who should really have a WG story of her own, athletic stripper becoming a beloved empress, ending all of her physical activity while gaining access to a smorgashborg of an empire.

Oh... oh no... I wonder if I can edit after posting 😬

2 hours ago, Lolkingjoe said:

Nice chapter!

I wonder if Jane will have to hex herself to appear innocent? 🤔

I’m pretty giddy because no one’s noticed the real twist yet

[>_< 0_0]

"Dude. Her eyes, man."

I'm super-stoked to keep writing this, but first I'm gonna drop a little short story. Only one chapter long.

[Mr.Grignard]

I'll take a stab at it!
Two words: mind control. She can already change people’s bodies and summon objects into existence, so probing people on the inside sounds like a reasonable progression to me, if not a bit of a get out of jail free card. 
But what price will she pay for such power? Will our heroine spiral into an abyss of moral depravity, or will she lose her humanity entirely and thus no longer care one way or the other? Don’t tell me, though! I want absolutely no hints!

[>_< 0_0]

50 minutes ago, Mr.Grignard said:

I'll take a stab at it!
Two words: mind control. She can already change people’s bodies and summon objects into existence, so probing people on the inside sounds like a reasonable progression to me, if not a bit of a get out of jail free card. 
But what price will she pay for such power? Will our heroine spiral into an abyss of moral depravity, or will she lose her humanity entirely and thus no longer care one way or the other? Don’t tell me, though! I want absolutely no hints!

[dragan]

Instead of mind control what about manipulating how hungry people are or their habits? So far they are getting fat magically but still working out as much as when they were thin. Every pound gained should increase their appetite and decrease their will power. 

[>_< 0_0]

8 hours ago, dragan said:

Instead of mind control what about manipulating how hungry people are or their habits? So far they are getting fat magically but still working out as much as when they were thin. Every pound gained should increase their appetite and decrease their will power. 

[>_< 0_0]

Ha! No one guessed what the plot twist was gonna be! I'll admit, it would've been hard to guess, but once you see it, you'll have to admit that it had to happen sooner or later hehe

Chapter Fifty-Five

               Once again, I found myself forced to ascend the Central Hall steps to the top floor, though this time I was following Buxley to the Proctor’s office, rather than the waiting room adjacent the Dean’s office. I couldn’t help but glance nervously back towards that waiting room, opposite the hall from us. My nerves cooled, however, when I caught sight of the Dean’s receptionist. She was wearing her professional attire, as usual, but there was no denying her arms’ new padding. They filled her sleeves snugly; not a wrinkle to be seen, and I wondered how she managed to slip her arms through without straining the shoulder seams. Memories of lacing the candy bowl on her desk with pound bombs resurfaced in my mind, and I smiled as I saw her absentmindedly extend her plump arm to pluck another candy from it.

               “Jane,” Buxley interrupted my groove. “Let’s go in. Zoltan’s waiting for us.”

               “Right. Sorry…” I turned back to Buxley to find her holding the Proctor’s office door open with a slimmer, more toned arm. As I ducked underneath it, she was already moving to lock the knob. “I hope the Dean’s not here; she scares me.”

               “I haven’t seen her in a few days,” Buxley replied. “Besides, she never comes in here. No one does.”

               “They don’t?” I glanced around the office curiously, noting that it matched the Dean’s office in terms of sombre tones yet ornate decoration, though it was certainly smaller. Zoltan was already behind the desk, towering over Brenda, who sulked in the Proctor’s leather chair.

               But as Brenda and I eyed each other, Buxley pushed me stiffly aside and approached the desk.

“Any sign of her?” Buxley asked.

“Nothing,” Zoltan replied softly. “Lots of dust on the desk too.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Left her a message on her personal phone; shouldn’t take her more than a few minutes to get here.”

“One of the perks to living on an island,” Buxley sighed, scooting her butt onto the desk and folding her arms and twisted back to look at Brenda over her shoulder. “So… former empress. What’s your name again?”

“Brenda,” Brenda grumbled.

“You know why you’re here?”

“Zoltan talked to me about it,” Brenda folded her arms as well, hugging her chest-chub close (and still wearing my jacket). “I’m cursed, right? We’re going to un-curse me?”

“Did she mention that dropping charges of larceny depend on how you behave?”

Brenda didn’t answer, but Zoltan walked slowly behind her and flexed her fingers upon her softened shoulders.

“Did I?” Zoltan leaned over her, bare biceps flexing.

“You did.”

“That’s reassuring,” Buxley didn’t smile, but looked satisfied. “Well Zoltan? You can wear the necklace. How do you want this done?”

“I’m one step ahead of you,” Zoltan replied, drawing the heirloom from her sweatpants’ pocket.

“Miss Buxley?” I asked as the cheer coach clasped the necklace around her dark-skinned neck. “What’s she about to do? Is she going to detect the curses – if there are curses?”

“Not now Jane… so what do you see Tracy? Anything on the radar?”

Slowly lowering her muscled arms from her slender neck, Zoltan scanned the room with a level gaze. Her eyes lingered on me for a moment. Could she sense who I was? My shoulders began to shake.

“Don’t worry Jane,” Buxley said firmly. “We’ll solve this eventually – right Tracy?”

“Hold up,” Zoltan squinted. “Too much interference.”

“Meaning what?”

“You two, back away from each other real quick. I can’t tell where all this is coming from…”

“How about now?”

“Back up…”

“Okay… we’re on opposite sides of the room. What do you see?”

“It’s everywhere,” Tracy replied. “It’s as if all of us are hexed.”

“Right, then,” Buxley tapped her foot. “We’re going to have to deduce this the hard way.”

“The hard way?” I asked nervously.

“Deductive reasoning.”

“Oh.”

“We’ll hammer-down on how these hexes work by figuring-out what they do. We’ll start with the obvious: visible symptoms. Jane?”

“Yes?”

“Come over here with me. Sit on the desk so I can get a good look at you.”

Following Buxley to the desk, I obliged her, hopping slightly to compensate for my short stature. The economics teacher stood squarely in front of my swinging, outspread legs, leaning close to me. It was hard for me to peel my eyes from her shorts, which were a loose fit over her soft thighs, but were clearly a few pounds away from being a tight fit. Was that an inch of belly flab hanging over them? It was hard to tell with her track jacket masking her shape.

“Take your aviators off,” her voice was smooth yet sombre, like a doctor for a check-up. “Let’s take a look at your eyes… Tracy? Want to take a look?”

“I do,” Zoltan shuffled around the desk to stand by Buxley’s side.

“Go ahead Jane.”

“Okay…” I took them off slowly, my surroundings brightening as I did so. Both teachers leaned-in closer, Buxley propping her cold hand on my forehead as Zoltan’s eyes widened.

“Wow,” Zoltan said. “You never told me why you were wearing those, Jane.”

I looked down before Buxley raised my chin between thumb and forefinger. “I was wearing them because… they look weird.”

“Do they hurt? How do they feel?”

“They feel the same… I didn’t know until Kristen told me about them.”

“And then,” Brenda interrupted from behind. “She blamed me for it and got me exiled from my own sorority.”

“I thought you did it,” I quipped. “It made sense, considering you were going to frame me with –”

“Enough,” Buxley raised a finger. “When exactly did you realize you had red eyes?”

I had to be careful how I crafted this story. If they noticed anything suspicious about it, my days were numbered. “Well… it was the night after Brenda and I drank a whole bottle of mixed-drink together. We both looked different right after that.”

“So that’s a lead,” Buxley nodded, pulling away and folding her arms. “Who made the mix drink?”

“Kristen,” I replied quickly.

The teachers shared a look.

“We’ll have to check on that,” Zoltan said.

“All in due time,” Buxley replied. “Is there anything else that’s out of the ordinary Jane?”

“There is,” Brenda spoke-up again. “There’s a fucking Pink Thing. I saw it when I put the necklace on.”

My breath stopped. My heart stopped. Oh no, oh shit! I’d forgotten that Brenda had caught sight of Sucky! Somehow the necklace allowed her to sense her presence just before being possessed and now I was screwed! The secret was out! How was I going to escape this one!?

“A pink thing?” Buxley asked incredulously. “What does it look like?”

“I couldn’t tell…” Brenda replied. “There was too much interference… from interlocking hexes.”

“Tracy?” Buxley asked. “See any pink things?”

“Nothing. If anything, I’m getting more interference than Brenda did in the cave. There’s a reason we kept this thing as far away from everyone as possible.”

“Noted. Yet another lead we’ll have to set aside. In any case, if all of us have been hexed, let’s move on to the next individual,” she looked past me. “Brenda, let’s have a look at you.”

When I turned to look at her, she was already squeezing my jacket closer to herself, as if she could push her fat into hiding. “Do we have to?”

“You don’t want to argue with us about this.”

“You promise you’ll help undo it?” Brenda asked. “It’s all I want. It’s the only reason I wanted the necklace in the first place – to find another heirloom.”

“We’ll undo all the hexes,” Buxley replied. “The sooner we learn what’s going on, the sooner that happens.”

Slowly, Brenda’s self-bearhug loosened. “Alright then…” even more slowly, she began unzipping my jacket. “Before you ask, no, I’m not supposed to be this fat. All this fat – all of it – is from the last couple days. And yes, I started noticing something was wrong after we finished that mix-drink Kristen made – fuck!”

“What’s up?” Zoltan asked.

“Nothing – I mean… fuck!” Brenda tried to pull the jacket back together, hands squishing into her globe-shaped belly, but abandoned the effort. As we all stared in awe, her globe-belly grew even more, its girth wrapping around her torso and straining the elastic band of her sweatpants. The orbs of her breasts grew as well. They were resting on her stomach now, jiggling with every ragged breath.

“It’s worse than when I had it,” Zoltan remarked.

“You had it too?” Brenda asked. Hope sparked in her eyes as she noted how thin and muscular the coach was.

“I bulked real quick recently. Fall is bulking season, so I didn’t pay attention to how big I was getting until I realized I couldn’t stop. It happened real fast too – but not fast enough to see.”

“Let’s not get distracted,” Buxley said. “Now Brenda, tell us if there’s anything else going on with you.”

“Besides getting fat? No… except it happens every time I say that girl’s name.”

“Which girl? Nevermind. Her name doesn’t matter at this point. It’s just the crux of the hex you’ve fallen under. What’s important is why it’s that particular –”

From the office door sounded a forceful rattle and the clinking of keys. As we paused our investigation, the door opened to reveal an average-sized brunette wearing a purple skirt and white blouse that matched poorly with the grey tweed jacket draped over her hunched shoulders. She leaned inside, eyeing us with what I thought was confusion until I realized that her mouth was full.

“Proctor,” Buxley remarked calmly.

The Proctor chewed a few times before swallowing her mouthful. “What are you doing on my desk?”

Too late, I realized she was talking to me. “Oh! Sorry about that.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” she entered the room fully, revealing her other arm cradling a bag of Doritos. “You probably dusted it off sitting like that.”

“Were you on lunch break Proctor?” Buxley asked, leaning against the desk next to me. “At this hour?”

“I skipped lunch, actually,” the Proctor replied, leaning herself against the wall opposite us. “Also, rude. Just because you don’t see me working doesn’t mean I don’t,” she plucked a chip from the bag, dropping it into her mouth and chewing slowly. “So these students are the inflicted ones, right?”

“Yes Proctor.”

“What do they know?”

“Very little,” Zoltan leaned against the desk on my other side. “I actually wish they knew more.”

“They don’t need to. They can leave.”

“With all due respect,” Buxley frowned. “We still don’t know the nature of their hexes. Discerning them will allow us to find what did this.”

“And help protect them,” Zoltan added.

“They’ll be fine,” Proctor replied calmly, pulling another Dorito out. “This will all be over soon enough. I take it you’ve concluded Jason Alban is the primary suspect?”

“It’s just a suspicion.”

“But you have to admit it’s a good one,” Proctor continued. “A wanted criminal, at-large on the island…” she chewed thoughtfully. “Even before this mess started, he showed signs of anti-social behaviour. He should never have been enrolled here, no matter how much federal grant money he qualified our institution for.”

I couldn’t help but feel betrayed by her comments. Anti-social? Me!? Ever since I enrolled here, I had gone out of my way to talk to everyone, to make one friend if not a relationship, and she had the bigoted arrogance to call me anti-social? I struggled against rampant sexism from the very start! It wasn’t my fault I didn’t have friends.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said emphatically. “Jason just wanted a relationship.”

Proctor turned her attention to me, chewing casually. “He’s wanted for trespassing and sexual harassment – not to mention underage drinking.”

“But none of us had any connections to him,” I pressed. “Brenda and I –”

“It doesn’t matter,” Proctor shrugged. “Just because you never had direct interaction with him doesn’t mean you’re not affected. Again, it doesn’t matter. I just got back from a meeting with the Dean.”

Buxley leaned forward. “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing.”

“How was she?” Zoltan asked. “I haven’t seen her in quite some time. She stopped jogging with me.”

“She’s fine as far as I can tell… a little more sour than usual, actually, but I know where she’s coming from. Anyway, we can’t tolerate a wanted criminal on this island, and considering he’s an American citizen as opposed to Canadian, this is a larger problem than it would be.”

“Right,” Zoltan nodded. “I forget this is a Canadian island, all things considered.”

“In any case, we got in touch with the FBI.”

“What!? Don’t tell me they’re sending agents? It’s bad enough one entity got through our wards; we don’t need more impure individuals coming.”

“Don’t worry; they got their hands full. However, they did secure a warrant to search Jason’s smartphone.”

Wait a minute.

“What do you mean, ‘search?’” I asked.

“They’re going to retrieve the data on his phone,” Proctor shoved her hand deeply into the Dorito bag. “Once they get the geospatial data from his provider, we’ll know everything. What texts he’s sent, his social media footprint, everywhere he’s been, and his current location…” she nipped a large chip between her teeth, splitting it in half. “Accurate to within ten square metres. Once our sisters in blue get that data relayed to them, Jason will never be able to hide again.”

[Mr.Grignard]

Ugh!

 

[Batman76]

Oh snap, the feds!

[>_< 0_0]

7 hours ago, Mr.Grignard said:

Ugh!

 

The question now is how Jane's gonna wriggle out of this. 

5 hours ago, Batman76 said:

Oh snap, the feds!

It's the Feds! Time to flee!

I can neither affirm nor deny the possibility of an FBI-battering-ram-raid 🤫

[Mr.Grignard]

I didn’t bring up until now, but since Jason is gone, there are currently no male characters, are there? 
 

[>_< 0_0]

5 hours ago, Mr.Grignard said:

I didn’t bring up until now, but since Jason is gone, there are currently no male characters, are there? 
 

There are absolutely none! That’s a very important plot element!

[>_< 0_0]

Ooooofff 😩 This was supposed to be a short chapter, but it's stuffed with new developments, so at least now you know why it took so long to write.

Chapter Fifty-Six

               The Proctor saw no reason to have students present while she casually elaborated on her plans. However, she knew it was dangerous leaving me alone with Brenda, so she had Zoltan escort us home.

               We stepped outside silently, Zoltan’s tall, dark body shielding me from Brenda’s glare – and I was sure she was glaring at me. As far as she was concerned, it was I who had ruined her life and not the other way around.

               Still, as we circled around the Boudica statue, I couldn’t help myself from leaning forward to take a peek at my adversary. She was taller than me, but that did not help hide the stoutness of her middle. The jacket she had stolen from my shoulders for the sake of vanity and posturing could barely conceal her new bowling-ball-sized belly no matter how tightly she hugged it to herself. In fact, it was now amplifying her belly’s bulge, its wrinkles making her torso look like an olive-green trash bag.

               She caught me staring, and stared back.

“What are you looking at?” she growled.

               “My jacket,” I replied, struggling to subdue my sense of panic.

               Brenda didn’t reply. No doubt she was worried what Zoltan would do if we started a catfight. The silence emboldened me.

               “When are you going to give it back? You promised you would.”

               “It’s not your fucking jacket,” Brenda snapped, shoving her hands deeper into its pockets.

               “What’s this about?” Zoltan asked. “Stop walking. Explain this to me.”

               “She stole my jacket,” I told the cheer coach, using her as cover from Brenda’s wrath.

               “I didn’t steal anything from her,” Brenda pointed at me as she wove her lies. “She gave this jacket to me. Everyone in the sorority saw it happen. She’s lying.”

               “Good thing we’re headed there,” I replied. “We can ask them all about it.”

               “I’ve heard enough,” said Zoltan. “Not another word.”

               “Alright, I’m out,” Brenda backed away. “I can walk myself.”

               “Just give me my jacket back,” I said. “It doesn’t even fit you.”

               “Stop fighting – both of you,” Zoltan said more forcefully.

               “No, she’s right,” Brenda said suddenly. She shrugged free of my beloved jacket, struggling slightly to get her soft, squishy arms free of the sleeves. The flesh of her belly jiggled as she did so, and it bunched against her massive, melon-sized breasts every time she bent down. When she was finally free, she kicked the jacket towards me, thighs brushing loudly against each other. “Take the fucking jacket!”

               Brenda’s body was exposed without the cover of the jacket, swollen and heaving. She fumed silently at me between breaths before pointing her finger straight for my head once more.

               “This is your fault!” she snarled. “I don’t know how, but it’s all your fault!”

               “Brenda,” Zoltan somehow managed to yell without raising her voice. “You’ve crossed a line.”

               The ex-empress flinched at the dark, sudden shift in Zoltan’s demeanour, but not as much as I did. All at once, I became aware that she was nearly two heads taller than I was, ripped as all hell, and a faculty member. Though she turned her cold wrath upon Brenda, I still feared her.

               “I’m dropping this student off with the Sigma Omegas,” Zoltan’s voice was firm and low. “When I return to my office, I expect you to be waiting outside my door. Understood?”

               Brenda was silent, but her eyes screamed with passion.

               “Go. Now.”

               “…fine.”

               I barely had the courage to watch Brenda as she walked away from us, but I still couldn’t help but notice how bulbous and jiggly her butt was as she stomped out of sight around a bend in the winding walkway.

               “I had a feeling the jacket wasn’t hers,” Zoltan rested her hand on my shoulder. Her voice had become soft and warm.

               “What tipped you off?” I held the ball-like bundle that was my jacket closer to my side.

               “That jacket was too drab for her. I know her style; we’re sisters after all.”

               “That’s right – you’re a Sigma Omega too!” I grinned as I unfurled my jacket to its full length. “They can’t be all that bad, then.”

               “True,” Zoltan looked bemused as I easily slide my arms into the sleeves, draping the jacket over my shrugging shoulders.

               “I’m so glad I have it back,” I gushed as I spread my fingers inside the gritty, familiar pockets.

               “You love that thing, don’t you?”

               “You have no idea! I’ve had this thing for years! It’s basically a part of me.”

               “It looks familiar,” Zoltan remarked casually.

               I supressed a sudden surge of panic. “What?”

               “Nothing… you just remind me of another student when you wear that.”

               I had to divert this conversation before she connected the dots. “Zoltan? I was wondering…”

               “Yes?”

               “About what the Proctor said… and Brenda… about this ‘Pink Thing…’”

               “Oh? Do you mean me?”

               Sucky was back, possessing Zoltan within the blink of an eye.

               “Oh,” I jumped in surprise, backing myself against the statue of Boudica. “Why are you here? So soon?”

               “Why?” she grinned, closing the distance between us with a single step of her long, toned leg. “We have such precious few times when we are alone together; it’s best to make the most of it.”

               Nervously, I glanced in all directions. We were mere meters from Lane and Kendall Hall, but by some stroke of luck, the walkways were abandoned. The nearest squirrel was three tree trunks away.

               “You make me sad,” Sucky pouted playfully. “I’ve lost my pudge. Look,” she lifted her shirt, revealing the most well-defined abs I’d seen in days. “So much progress lost…”

               “Is it safe for us to be out here?” I asked. “Like this?”

               “Just be a good girl and hold still,” Sucky pushed me gently against the statue. “Just like that. Are you ready for me to take it off?”

               “Wait! Someone will see us!”

               She reached back, breasts rising before my face as she reached back and unclasped the necklace from her neck. I sighed with relief; I though she was going to take something else off.

               “Go ahead,” she held it before me with a smile, letting its thin chain hang between her fingers. “You can take a quick peek if you hurry.”

               Ah, so she possessed Zoltan to give me a chance to wear the necklace! I’d have to hurry, then. My fingers raked against her course, warm palm to retrieve it, fidgeted to find the latch, and raced to wrap it around my neck.

               But what was this? The necklace was ** me! I couldn’t breathe! The latch! Where was the latch –!

               Sucky edged closer, leaning into me like a vampiress about to draw blood, but instead of sinking her teeth into me, she sank her fingers instead, deftly unlatching the necklace.

               I gasped so hard that I had to hold her bulging, muscular arms for balance.

               “What was that?”

               “It has not deemed you worthy,” Sucky rubbed my hair, breasts propped on either side of my head. “Don’t worry…”

               “That hurt… hey! What’re you doing?”

               “Hush,” she grabbed hold of my wrist and began wrapping the necklace around it like a bracelet. “It’s quite a choker, isn’t it? But there’s more than one place to put it… see?”

               “It’s strangling me!” I stared at the thing with alarm as the chain dug into my skin like floss.

               “Hush… let it dig in.”

               “It’s cutting into my skin…”

               “Relax,” she stroked her hand through my hair. “Notice anything different? Let me help you…”

               Truth be told, I couldn’t see much with my head buried between her breasts, but as she cooed her soft words of encouragement, she took hold of my shoulders and gently twisted me away from her. What met my eyes was so alien to me that I had to stare for a moment to make sense of it all. There was the statue looming over me, and Central Hall behind it. The flag staff fluttered from a gust of cold, autumn wind, as did the numerous trees surrounding the campus, and yet – superimposed betwixt these sights, glowed the entrails of something that was not quite mist and not quite smoke. Here and there, I saw the dim, twisting strands, bending their way around walkways, twisting through trees, and wafting from the soil.

               “You can finally see it,” Sucky gave my shoulders a squeeze.

               “What am I seeing?”

               “Find the places they meet,” she nuzzled my head with her own. “It’s what you’ve been looking for.”

               The more I looked, the more wisp trails I found. They did not glow, being faded and thin, so it was hard to see them all. Many were faint enough that I was unsure if they were there, but there were always more. They were at my feet, in the sky –

               I saw it. A seething nexus of smoky entrails, writhing around the Statue of Boudica. It was above me the entire time – whatever it was.

               “Good,” Sucky’s fingernails dug into me. “You know what to do.”

               “Wait!” I tried to turn around, but she held me firm to herself.

               “Don’t look at me,” she told me. “You’re not ready to see me undressed.”

               It was useless to resist; she was too strong. “Sucky? I still have questions…”

               “Ask one, for our time together is short.”

               “Why do you always have to leave so soon?”

               “Isn’t it obvious?” she chuckled. “Your shadow vanishes in the light.”

               I felt the hands gripping my shoulders falter, and I knew that Sucky was gone.

               “Jane…” Zoltan said quietly. “Jane! Are you alright?”

               It was time play an act. “Zoltan?” I turned to face her. “What just happened? What did you do to me?”

               She looked at me with more concern than I ever saw in her before. “I don’t… Jane, listen closely: I need you to tell me what just happened in the last – Jane!”

               “What?”

               “How did that get on your wrist?”

               I stared dumbly at the necklace, which was strangling me so hard that my fingers tingled. “You put it there… I’m not sure why…”

               “We need to take it off you right now. It’s trying to corrupt the heirloom.”

               “What is?” I asked as her nimble fingers worked to unlatch the necklace. “What’s going on? Is it the ‘Pink Thing?’”

               “Hold still,” she said steadily. “This thing’s digging into your skin.”

               But I was still hungry for information. Sucky hadn’t given me much to go on, but if anyone knew what that thing was, it was Zoltan. It was worth the risk. “Zoltan… Tracy. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

               As she unlatched the necklace, she looked into my eyes. Had I said too much?

               “What do you mean it’s happened before?”

               “I mean others have… lost memory when they’re around me.”

               “Jane. This is serious,” she brushed my cheek with her thumb. “If what you say is true – and I believe you – than this is more serious than I thought. Jane, it is not safe for me to walk you back home.”

               “What?”

               “I want you to be safe, so I’m going to ask you to get back to the lighthouse on your own. I’ll head back to the Proctor’s office. We’ll get to the bottom of this together. Good?”

               She was going to tell the Proctor? Was this how they were going to find out what I was doing? “Are you sure you wanna leave? You were going to walk me home.”

               “I’m absolutely certain. Don’t worry; Brenda’s not here anymore. We’ll call you back in for more questioning tomorrow. Alright?”

               So I had until tomorrow to weasel myself out of this one. “Alright.”

 

               The red sun hung low below the blanket of grey clouds, its light glistening over the broad ocean. A long shadow cast itself from the lighthouse, reaching for me as I approached the patio, where a large gathering of sisters were waiting for me.

               “There she is!”

               “Jane! You’re back!”

               Hands in the pockets of my beloved jacket, I greeted the crowd with a faint smile. There were about a dozen of them leaning over the wooden railings, smiling as I walked closer to them. Some of them were waving, one of them was jumping, but centred amidst them all was Kristen, who did nothing.

               She stared down at me with folded arms, legs spread in a wide stance. “Welcome back Jane,” she said calmly.

               “Hi,” I replied cautiously, unsure if I should dare to begin climbing the steps.

               Then she burst-out laughing. “Come here girl! You should see the look on your face! Come into my arms!”

               Nervously, I obliged, letting her wrap herself around me. As the crowd cheered us on, I wondered how she could behave so warmly when I knew she had betrayed my love. I didn’t have to wonder long: she didn’t know that I knew what she had done, and in any case, she still needed me for something.

               “Give me a kiss sweetie.”

               A kiss? She wanted a kiss? How would I do that? When was the last time I kissed? The memory suddenly resurfaced: it was on the beach nearby, when I was alone with Emily. It was the first time Sucky had possessed someone I knew.

               Kristen stared at me with big, puppy eyes, reeking of innocence. “What’s wrong?”

               I stared back. What should I do? Everyone was looking at us. Should I call her out? Would the sisters believe me if I did? Would they even care?

               Kristen opened her mouth to speak again, and I dove-in. Our plush lips meshed together as our arms wrapped together. It was just like that first time, when Sucky had stolen my mouths virginity. I felt Kristen’s back tense as I thrust my tongue against her teeth.

               “Damn girls,” someone called. “Get yourselves upstairs or something!”

               I drew away from her. To my credit, she looked shocked. “What do you think? Want to go back to your room? I can tell you what happened.”

               Tomie butted-in. “I think we all want to know what happened. Why the hell did you go around with Brenda anyway?”

               I smiled at her. “I told you I wanted my jacket. It worked, right?”

 

               That night, my mind was overwhelmed with worry. I worried about being caught, about the feds tapping into my phone, about what they might find, and how I was supposed to use my app. I worried about Zoltan, the Proctor, and Buxley. I worried about Brenda – oh shit, I almost forgot about Emily! I told her I’d get Brooke’s number days ago! Why did she want it again? I worried so much, I was pretty sure there wasn’t anything to not worry about.

I needed a distraction, a moment of solace and comfort, and that was why I was sitting on Kristen’s bed, listening to her rinsing in the bathroom sink. I couldn’t see past the bathroom door, but I suspected she was already half-naked.

“So Jane,” she mumbled over the sound of her brushing her teeth. “I was wondering something.”

“Huh?” I looked-up from my smartphone and spotted her shadow in the doorway.

Kristen spat in the sink before she answered. “It’s pretty clear now that you love that old jacket. I was just wondering what was so special about it.”

I looked down and admired the look and feel of it once again. “I’ve had it for a long time,” I replied as I stuck my finger through a familiar tear near the left pocket. “It’s warm and practical, with chest and waist pockets. Honestly… I feel naked without it.”

“You look like Fidel Castro’s girlfriend.”

“Well…”

“Also, speaking of naked…” she emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing but grey sweatpants. Her small breasts jiggled over her well-defined baby abs. Were they bigger now that Feast was in the past? I couldn’t tell, but they’d be bigger tonight. I’d hexed Kristen to gain how she pleased, and I was curious to see what that looked like.

She chuckled when she noticed me staring and leaned her bare upper-arm against the doorframe. “I’m not coming until you take that thing off.”

Maybe she was dishonest with me. Maybe she was lying to me about her feelings. Maybe she didn’t care about me, but I needed a place to sleep, and I might as well sleep with her. Two could play at this manipulation game. That’s why I resigned myself to stripping for her.

“Whoa girl, I just meant the jacket,” she approached with a predatory gleam in her eye. “You don’t have to pull your shorts – ah, just kidding! You catch-on quick, kiddo,” she slapped my ass as she sat next to me on the bed, but instead of letting go, she gave me a squeeze. “You’ll make a good Kappa yet. Hmmm…”

Heart racing, I managed to make eye-contact with her. It didn’t last long before her eyes traced down my figure.

“Do you like asses, Jane?” she wriggled her fingers into my stiff glute.

“Yeah…” I replied shyly. “I like them.”

“Do you like mine? Go ahead… give it a grab.”

I didn’t move fast enough for her tastes, so she took my hand and shoved it into her sweats. Two of my fingers snagged against the lace of her panties, but there was no mistaking what I was feeling: a round, pert glute, flexing tightly against my palm.

“Well?” Kristen leaned closer. “What do you think?”

“I like it.. a lot.”

“And?”

“What?”

“Keep talking, kiddo,” she wrapped her arms around my waist. “Tell me what you like about it.”

“I don’t know how…”

“Don’t be shy,” she kissed my cheek. “I’m here for you. Rub me for good luck.”

I took her advice, rubbing her tight cheek and easing my free hand around her waist. “I like how round it is.”

“Yeah…”

“And it’s pretty tight.”

“Mmm…” she nestled her head in between my neck and shoulder.

“I kind of wish it were softer, though.”

She didn’t answer right away, and I wondered if I had gone too far. “What you mean? You want a fat ass?”

“No,” I shivered when I felt her breath against my clavicle. “I mean –”

“I want a fat ass too,” she squeezed my cheek again, hard enough to make me flinch uncomfortably.

In spite of the rapid pace of events, her comment gave me an idea, and as I squirmed helplessly in her arms, the idea began to grow into a plan. I knew that I still had to do away with my phone as soon as I could (and I didn’t know how to get started on that), but I also knew that I had to quickly deflect suspicion of being the girl hexing the whole school. The easiest way to do that was to hex myself. The very thought made my insides clench, but I was out of options and out of time. It was best to start right away.

“Hey… Kristen?” I leaned my head into hers. “You wanna drink some beer?”

“Beer?” she lifted her head away to shoot me a funny look.

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Do you have some?”

“Beer? Jane, Jane,” she tsked-tsked. “It’s a weekday. We don’t drink beer on weekdays.”

“Oh… how about –”

“We drink wine,” she stood up with a playful laugh. “Aha, got ya! Yeah, I got beer. But we’ll drink wine instead – less calories, you know? Lemme rummage through this lingerie drawer and fetch some…”

“Are you on a diet?” I couldn’t resist the question. I stared lustfully at her firm buns as she bent over an open drawer.

“Do I look like I need a diet?” she turned around, a can of wine in each hand. “Come on, Jane. I drink wine because I’ve got taste. I’m a classy bitch.”

With that, she lowered her tight ass onto my narrow thigh. She wriggled slowly, looking back at me with a knowing look. I could feel the rounded edges of her pelvis through her miniscule flesh – damnit, I was going to make her so fat tonight…

“Here,” she cracked a wine can open.

“Thanks,” I plucked the can and admired its shape. “What should we drink to?”

But she’d already in a deep swig. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing. That was cool.”

“Really Jane? Cool? Not ‘hot’ or anything?”

“Actually, yeah,” I pointed at her can and willed five-pounds of weight into it. “Watching you drink was pretty hot.”

“You haven’t seen nothing yet,” she smirked. “Drink up! It’s good!”

She was right. I didn’t drink wine as often as beer, but I could tell that Kristen had good taste. It was the perfect blend of sour and sweet. I sloshed the liquid goodness between my teeth and cheeks, taking my time swallowing. Well… there was no point delaying the inevitable anymore…

“This is pretty good,” I tapped the can with my finger, willing fifteen pounds into it.

“I know. Why don’t you chug it?”

“Chug wine?” I gave her a look. “Is that even legal?”

“It isn’t,” she rubbed my back and leaned in for a kiss. “But I’ll do it with you. What do you say? Will you be my partner in crime?”

“Girl,” I smirked back at her. “I’m way ahead of you. Also, I half-expect some kind of ring with the way your talking.”

“Nah, you got enough of those already. You should be the one to give me one.”

“Hey. You know these rings are special. Well? You ready to chug?”

“You know it,” she tapped my can with her own. “Cheers. To your booty.”

“No, to yours,” I replied.

She was already halfway done with chugging. Damn! How was I supposed to keep up with that? I mean, I was the reigning chug-champion, but then again, I knew what was going to happen once I finished chugging. In fact, I could feel its effects already. Kristen’s butt cheeks were beginning to bubble-up, squishing themselves against my thigh. Oh well… down the hatch.

“See? There you go! It’s fun, right?”

I didn’t have a chance to reply since my mouth was full of cursed wine, and when I swallowed, the kick it did to my stomach kept my mouth shut.

“You good Jane?” Kristen slapped my back.

“I’m good,” I smiled. “Just –”

A tooth fell out of my mouth.

[bahbah]

Ahh ya masterful bastard, always leave us wanting more. 

[Mr.Grignard]

Huh. 
 

 

I was hoping it would make her taller next, but hey, that works too.

[Jotunthewriter]

On 5/9/2020 at 8:38 AM, >_< 0_0 said:

A tooth fell out of my mouth.

Great chapter, i just don't understand meaning of that last sentence, it's like I missed something earlier in the story. 

[>_< 0_0]

On 5/9/2020 at 5:28 PM, bahbah said:

Ahh ya masterful bastard, always leave us wanting more. 

Always use cliffhangers when you can! It works real well with serialized stories -- and girls too! Try and leave a convo with an open-ended idea that she wants to reply back to. It works! 

On 5/9/2020 at 6:43 PM, Mr.Grignard said:

Huh. 
 

 

I was hoping it would make her taller next, but hey, that works too.

That's rather specific. So you like tall girls? I love tall girls 😘 Don't worry, there will be giant girls in this story. It will be everything you wished for, but NOT in the way you expected.

 

21 hours ago, Jotunthewriter said:

Great chapter, i just don't understand meaning of that last sentence, it's like I missed something earlier in the story. 

Ah, so what we know so far is that when Jane gets hit with extra pounds, they haven't been making her any fatter (yet). Instead, they change her in other ways. So far, the only thing that had changed was her eyes (which turned red). Now she's lost a tooth! What does it mean!? What's gonna happen to her next? I already know, but I'd love hearing your guesses.

[Mr.Grignard]

Ah, you shouldn’t have😋!

I mean, you've already managed to check off a lot of my boxes with this story already, and if it's headed in the direction I think it's headed, it's only going to get better from here. 
And even better, Jane'll have an excuse for when she sees Emily again. Where is that girl, anyway? You'd think she'd at least call to see what her friend is up to on her super secret mission. And it’s not like Jane has been all that reliable on her end either. I'm starting to wonder just how committed to the team she really is.