Chapter Five

Jen snapped her notebook shut with a soft sigh and slid it into her bag, shoulders rolling as she worked a crink from her neck. Another long study session complete. Her GPA wouldn’t maintain itself, after all.

The bleachers beneath her vibrated faintly as the football team ran drills on the field below and the cheer squad practiced routines.

She could have studied in the library—quiet, air-conditioned, comfortable. Or in the study hall, surrounded by others doing exactly what she was doing. But Jen liked being here. Liked the energy. The noise. The sense of movement and life unfolding around her while she sat cross-legged with her textbooks, note pads, and highlighters.

She told herself it was about supporting her friends on the cheer squad.

That was mostly true.

Below, helmets clashed with dull, rhythmic thuds. Players shouted encouragement and insults in equal measure, laughing as they shoved and grappled. Shoulder guards stretched across broad shoulders, making them seem even wider. Jen’s eyes drifted down despite herself, tracking the bodies in motion—muscles flexing, legs driving, close-fitting pants hugging sculpted behinds.

Warmth bloomed low in her chest.

She bit the inside of her cheek and **** her attention back to her notes, though the words swam. The truth—one she’d never voice aloud—was that something about the players stirred her. Their confidence. Their physicality. The way they moved through the world as if it were something meant to be taken head-on rather than carefully navigated.

It wasn’t envy she felt. Not really.

It was a fluttery, embarrassing sort of fascination—something best kept sealed away in the privacy of her own thoughts.

Jen knew who she was, and who she wasn’t.

She adjusted her cardigan, glancing down at her own slight frame. Small chest. Narrow hips. No notable curves to turn heads. Her clothes were tidy, practical, and intentionally unremarkable. She’d learned early that looking harmless made life easier. The popular girls didn’t see her as competition. The mean girls didn’t view her as prey.

A wallflower, through and through.

Part of her appreciated the social leeway it afforded her.

Her gaze drifted to the sideline, where the cheerleaders spun and danced through a choreographed drill. Danielle stood out immediately, as she always did—tall, athletic, golden-haired, sunlight highlighting her youthful beauty as though it had been designed specifically for that purpose. The squad laughed and teased one another, skirts fluttering as they moved, casual confidence in every gesture.

Danielle laughed loudly at something one of the girls said, then looked up and spotted Jen.

She lifted a hand and waved.

Jen smiled back automatically, warmth and something sharper twisting together inside her as she descended the steps toward the exit row.

Danielle jogged to meet her, looking effortlessly composed even after practice. As squad captain, she was all long legs and easy grace, fully inhabiting a body that drew attention without trying. The male population on campus visibly faltered when she passed—stares lingering, conversations forgotten mid-sentence.

Danielle noticed, of course. She always did. Sometimes she wielded that power like a blade, cutting people dead with a snide comment or a derisive flick of her silky gold hair.

With Jen, though, she was nothing but friendly.

“Hey!” Danielle called, bright and genuine. “Still buried in your books, Jen? You should give yourself a break. Come hang out with us tonight. There’s a pool party over on sorority row.”

Jen smiled apologetically and hugged her bag a little closer. “Thanks, but I can’t. I’ve got a midterm coming up, and it’s worth forty percent of my grade.”

“Oof.” Danielle winced sympathetically, then grinned. “Okay, rain check. One of these days, you’re gonna cave and come out with us. A girl has to let her hair down and have some fun eventually.”

She winked and flashed that radiant smile.

Jen smiled back—automatically, reflexively—and wished, irrationally, that she wouldn’t.

Not because she disliked Danielle. She liked her very much. But the kindness sometimes felt like a reminder. A quiet confirmation that she was safe, unthreatening, invisible.

As Danielle turned and headed off, Jen lingered for a moment longer, watching the field one last time. The players were lining up again. Laughter and shouts drifted on the breeze.

Her heart fluttered, heat suffusing her center.

She shook her head, cheeks reddening, and finally made her way out of the stands—safe in her obscurity, secrets intact. Once she got back to her dorm, she could lock herself in the bathroom, have a shower, and relieve some pent-up tension.

Because, while the world might consider Jen a shrinking violet, her sexual fantasies ran white-hot.

Nobody would suspect that the nerdy little brunette who studied religiously, wouldn’t say boo to a ghost, and volunteered at a homeless shelter, was certifiably boy crazy.

So crazy, in fact, if she didn’t get off at least twice a day, her grades suffered.

Jen had learned to shove a hand towel in her mouth to stifle the whorish moans as she touched herself, wishing it were a preening meathead from football practice pawing at her nubile body.

The jock’s identity didn’t matter–Jen wasn’t attracted to any particular team member–they could have been faceless for all she cared. So long as they pinned her down or trapped her against a wall. Jen craved a brainless hunk with strapping muscles and a giant cock who would ravage her senseless.

Christ, she needed to hurry before liquid desire soiled her plain white panties.

Not that she had chased any of her darker daydreams. Intellectually, Jen understood the difference between horny fantasies and cold reality. The two were separated in her logical mind, safely partitioned behind mental firewalls, only brushing shoulders during private time.

Jen turned a corner, passing the concession stands, when a strange pop and a cloud of pink smoke filled the corridor, impeding her path. She coughed and fanned her hands, trying to dispel the cloying scent of jasmine.

A girl with dusky bronze skin, obsidian hair, and glittering hazel eyes emerged from the haze. Her obscenely voluptuous figure was scarcely attired in what could only be described as a sexy schoolgirl costume—the sort favored by certain partygoers on Halloween.

A scandelously short pleated skirt was slung over wide hips, barely covering a perfectly round rear and only just dusting the top of her thicc thighs. A white blouse was knotted beneath the most enormous breasts Jen had ever seen in person, leaving a smooth expanse of bare midriff on show. Two thick, shiny pigtails spilled like midnight waterfalls down to a very pinched waist, and white knee socks led into black Mary Janes perched atop sporting three-inch platform heels.

Jen had never seen Mary Janes like those before.

“Hi, hi!” the underdressed stranger chirped, waving cheerfully. Her face was stunning—unfairly so—though a faint sheen of something wet glistened at the corner of her puffy red lips. “I’m looking for a girl named Jen. Do you know her? Wow, this place is, like, huge. And there are soooo many people.”

Jen’s skin prickled.

Was this a joke? A prank?

“Yes… It is.” She replied carefully. “Sorry, who are you, and why are you looking for this Jen?”

“Whoops, forgot my manners! That’s totally like me.” The fat-chested tart swatted the side of her head with a ditzy giggle. “Hi, I’m Naru, and I'm looking for Jen because my master wants her.”

Master?

This had to be a setup. Though, why would anyone go to the trouble for her?

She waited for more, but this Naru simply gazed at her with a vapid grin so patient and unmoving it might have been painted on. Jen was tempted to knock on her skull to check if it rang hollow.

“Wants her for…” She prompted, circling a finger in the universal ‘please continue’ gesture.

“Who knows? I don’t ask those kinda questions.” Naru singsonged, tilting her empty head to the side. “A chat? A romantic date? Master is, like, waaaay into this chick. Oh, maybe he wants her for a booty call? Ohhh, that could be fun! A rough and dirty pounding to let off some steam. I’m, like, always totally down for that kinda action!”

Jen found herself backing away as the girl rambled on, her eyes flicking around the corridor. There had to be a hidden camera. A smoke machine. Something.

“Hey, don’t wander off!” The babbling bimbo sprang into the air—and flew over to latch onto Jen’s arm. Jen yelped, dropping her book bag. “I need your help, friendo. My magic brought me here, so she can’t be far.”

“Let go!” Jen cried, panic rising. “I don’t like people grabbing me!”

To her relief, Naru released her immediately, hovering back with a sheepish look.

“Sozzles, my bad.” The floating floozie apologized. “I’m, like, really making a mess of this. It was meant to be, like, a quick in-and-out job. I left master playing video games, but he’s gonna be pissed if–”

“Jen?” Danielle’s voice rang out behind them. “Are you okay? We heard yelling. Is that skank bothering you?”

Oh no…

Jen didn’t even have time to turn before Naru’s face split into a triumphant grin. The genie lifted one elegant hand and snapped her fingers.

“Found ya!”

Then everything exploded into pink cotton candy clouds.

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