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Chapter 7 by Filberson Filberson

What's next?

Lunch at school

You look around the cafeteria sheepishly. One after another the students in the queue ahead of you get their tray of food. When you step up to the serving line, the chef looks you up and down, and hands you a tray with a lanyard. Attached to it is an ID with your school photo and some writing underneath:

I have a special medical condition and need futa cum to survive. Please help me if you are able. Oral and anal are both acceptable.

"I c-can't wear this!" You say to no one in particular.

The school cook looks back at you while she dishes up more plates for the others. "I heard this is new for you. I understand, kid. I really do. Look, if it makes you feel better you can sit under my apron while I work. I could use a cute mouth like yours to pass the time, and no one will be able to see you down there. Otherwise, I think I can see several girls who'd be willing to help you out." She waves a ladle in the general direction of the various cliques sitting together: the goth girls, the bookworms, the cheerleaders. The list goes on.

What's next?

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