Katie gets a clue as to where the CORD might be?!

Katie's heart was pounding as the bell for second period rang. She'd spent the entire first period on her hands and knees, crawling around the hallway floor like a lunatic, checking under lockers, in corners, behind trash cans—anywhere the CORD might have slid after that freshman knocked her down. Nothing. The device was gone, and the pit in her stomach grew deeper with every passing minute.

She leaned against a row of lockers, pressing her palms against her eyes. Think, Katie, think. The CORD was small enough to fit in a pocket. Someone picked it up. But who? The hallway had been crowded when it happened. It could have been anyone—a random freshman, one of the kids who'd been watching the confrontation, a janitor sweeping through. At least she knew Robbie didn't have it! She'd seen him searching the ground too, remembering looking at his empty hands in confusion before Ms. Kirkland sent him away. That was one small mercy. If Robbie had gotten his hands on it... she shuddered at the thought. No, someone else had it, and she needed to find them before they figured out what it did—or worse, before they'd already started using it.

The hallways were empty now, everyone tucked away in their second period classes. Katie pushed off the lockers and started walking, her eyes scanning the floor out of habit, when she spotted someone at the far end of the corridor. It was impossible to miss her. Ashley Jackson was walking toward her with that unmistakable confident stride, her perfect peach-shaped ass swaying with every step. Except something was very, very wrong.

Ashley was in her underwear.

Katie blinked, certain she was hallucinating from sleep deprivation. But no—as Ashley drew closer, the picture became undeniably clear. The girl was strolling down the hallway in nothing but a lacy black bra that struggled to contain her generous breasts and a matching thong that left absolutely nothing of her incredible ass to the imagination. Her beautiful dark skin was on full display, the fluorescent hallway lights catching the subtle sheen of her smooth ebony complexion. She was carrying her notebook and pen like everything was perfectly normal, her emerald eyes bright and her expression cheerful.

Katie's blood ran cold. This wasn't normal. This wasn't Ashley. The real Ashley Jackson was one of the most put-together, professional people Katie knew—editor of the school paper, always dressed sharp, always composed. She would never walk around school in her underwear. Not unless...

Oh god. Someone's using the CORD.

"Ashley!" Katie called out, rushing toward her. "Ashley, hey—are you okay?"

Ashley stopped and turned, her full lips curling into a bright smile. "Oh hey Katie! Yeah, this fat ghetto booty is doing just fine! What's up, girl?"

Katie froze mid-step. This fat ghetto booty? Did Ashley just refer to herself as... Katie swallowed hard, her scientific mind already cataloging the symptoms. The CORD worked by implanting suggestions directly into the subconscious. If someone had used it on Ashley, she wouldn't even realize anything was wrong. Whatever had been suggested to her would feel like her own natural thoughts and beliefs.

"Um... Ashley..." Katie approached carefully, keeping her voice calm and casual even as her pulse raced. "How's your day going? Anything... unusual happen?"

Ashley tilted her head, her short black hair catching the light. "Nah, pretty normal day for these big black bimbo tits!" She laughed, gesturing down at herself as if she'd said the most natural thing in the world. "Had a really great interview this morning, actually. Cleared up a lot of misconceptions this dumb dark-skinned slut had about some stuff."

Katie's stomach lurched. Every alarm bell in her head was screaming. Ashley was referring to herself exclusively in degrading, racialized terms—and she was doing it with the casual ease of someone commenting on the weather. This was textbook CORD manipulation. Whoever had the device had done this to her. Had stripped her of her clothes and her dignity and made her grateful for it.

"Ashley," Katie said slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. She couldn't let on that she knew what was happening—if the person with the CORD found out Katie was investigating, they might use it on her next. "Can I ask you something? Why are you... I mean, you're only wearing your underwear right now."

Ashley looked down at herself and then back up at Katie with an expression of genuine bemusement, like Katie had asked the most obvious question in the world. "Oh this?" She did a little twirl, her thick ass jiggling in the thong as she spun. "Well, a big black bimbo bitch like me doesn't deserve to wear more than this! I mean, come on Katie, look at this fat ass—" she slapped her own rear, the sound echoing in the empty hallway, "—why would a ghetto booty slut cover all this up? That would be, like, false advertising!" She giggled.

Katie felt sick. "Who... who told you that?"

"The nice guys from the chess club explained it to me!" Ashley said brightly, bouncing on her heels in a way that made her barely-contained tits threaten to spill from her bra. "They were super sweet about it, actually. They sat this thick black ass down and really helped me understand my place, you know? Like, these big chocolate funbags—" she cupped her breasts and gave them a little shake, "—are way too nice to be hidden under clothes. The chess club guys made it make total sense!"

"The chess club?" Katie's eyes narrowed. The chess club met in room 247—all the way on the other side of the school, past the gymnasium, down two flights of stairs, in the basement level near the old shop classrooms. It would take her at least fifteen minutes just to get there. But if they had the CORD...

"Yeah!" Ashley nodded enthusiastically. "They're in their usual room. This jiggly ebony ass was just down there, actually! They're really smart guys, Katie. They know all about what dumb black bimbo bitches like me should and shouldn't do." She said it with such earnest admiration that it made Katie's skin crawl.

Katie's mind raced. The chess club kids were mostly quiet, nerdy types—the kind of people who might pick something up off the floor without knowing what it was, then figure it out later. If one of them had found the CORD and started experimenting... Ashley being their first target made a twisted kind of sense. She was gorgeous, confident, popular—everything those guys probably fantasized about. And now she was wandering the halls in her underwear, calling herself a "ghetto booty slut" with a smile on her face.

"Okay, Ashley, I... thanks for telling me." Katie tried to sound casual. "I'm going to go check something out. Are you... are you going to be okay?"

"Oh don't worry about this fat black ass!" Ashley waved dismissively, her tits bouncing with the motion. "This big-bootied bimbo has never been better! I just gotta go take care of something, but you have a great day, okay?"

Katie nodded, already mapping the fastest route to room 247 in her head. She'd have to be careful. If the chess club really did have the CORD, she couldn't just walk in and demand it back—they could use it on her before she got a word out. She'd need to be stealthy. Maybe she could peek through the door window first, assess the situation, wait for them to put it down...

"Hey Katie?" Ashley called after her. Katie turned back. "You should really go talk to them! They're super helpful. Changed this dumb chocolate slut's whole perspective on things!"

"Right... yeah. I'll do that." Katie turned and started walking quickly toward the east wing, her sneakers squeaking on the linoleum. Every step took her further from where she'd last seen Robbie, and that thought gave her a small measure of comfort. At least he wasn't the one with the CORD. She just needed to get to it before whoever had it did more damage.

As she rounded the corner and disappeared from view, she couldn't shake the image of Ashley's smiling face—so happy, so oblivious, so completely unaware that someone had reached into her mind and rewritten who she was. Katie clenched her fists. She'd built the CORD to get justice. Instead, it was being used to destroy people. She had to get it back. She had to fix this.

She picked up her pace, heading for the far end of the school.

________________________________________

Big chocolate funbags watched Katie's red ponytail disappear around the corner and felt a warm surge of satisfaction spread through her chest. Dumb black bimbo bitch shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her thick thighs pressing together as she smiled to herself.

Perfect.

That big black bimbo booty had done exactly what needed doing. Katie was gone—headed all the way across the school on a wild goose chase that would keep her busy for a good long while. Ghetto slut didn't fully understand why this was important, didn't know what Katie was looking for or why sending her to the chess club mattered. But big-bootied bimbo knew one thing with absolute, bone-deep certainty: she owed Robbie.

She owed him so much.

As big black bimbo boobies turned and began walking back the way she'd come, her nearly-naked ass swaying with each step and felt the familiar twist of guilt in her stomach. All those articles she'd written. All those stories painting him as some kind of monster. She'd been so unfair to him. So cruel. She'd never even given him a chance to tell his side—just attacked him over and over in print like the vindictive, stuck-up cunt she'd been. The thought made her ashamed. Her big chocolate tits weren't worthy of being in his presence after what she'd done.

But Robbie was giving her a chance to make it right. He'd asked her to do this one little thing—keep Katie busy, send her in the wrong direction—and this jiggly black slut had jumped at the opportunity. It was the least this fat-assed bimbo could do after everything she'd put him through. She'd practically ruined his reputation with her biased reporting. And for what? Because he roughed up a few kids who probably deserved it? Because he grabbed her ass a few times? As if this thick ghetto booty wasn't made to be grabbed!

Ashley rounded the corner, heading back toward the main hallway. She wasn't entirely sure where Robbie was right now, but that was okay. He'd find her when he needed her. And when he did, this big-titted black bitch would be ready to do whatever he asked. It was only fair.

She caught her reflection in a trophy case as she walked past and paused, turning to admire herself. Her dark skin glowed under the hallway lights, her lacy black bra barely containing her round, full breasts, her thong disappearing between the generous cheeks of her famous ass. She looked good like this. Felt right. Why had she ever covered all this up? Robbie was right! The details were fuzzy, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that she understood now. A dumb ebony fuck-toy like her had no business hiding behind professional clothes and journalistic integrity. This was who she really was. This was who she'd always been, underneath all that pretentious ambition.

This thick black ass belonged to Robbie. She was sure of it now.

Ghetto booty slut continued down the hallway with a spring in her step, her big butt bouncing with each stride. She didn't know what Robbie's plan was. She didn't know why Katie was dangerous to him, or what the redhead had been searching for so desperately. But she didn't need to know. She'd done her part. She'd been a good girl—a good big-bootied bimbo—and sent Katie on a path that led nowhere.

And when Robbie was ready to tell this dumb chocolate slut what to do next, she'd be waiting with a smile and her fat ghetto ass ready to serve.