Arrive at Jake Trask's house and enter the party

Jake Trask's house backyard, at 3:46 PM on Saturday June 15th, 2024

The bass throbs through your transformed body as you push through the front gate of 1847 Oakmont Drive. The sprawling two-story house has its backyard packed with bodies—easily forty people crowded around a kidney-shaped pool, red solo cups in hand, music blasting from speakers mounted on the deck. The air smells like chlorine, cheap beer, and sunscreen.

Your group of five scantily-clad females draws immediate attention. Conversations pause. Heads turn. Eyes lock onto your exposed bronze DD-cups straining against the leather corset, Candy's massive H-cups threatening to burst from her neon pink sports bra, Milky's milk-soaked sheer tank top leaving nothing to imagination.

"Holy fuck," a muscular guy near the gate breathes, his gaze raking over your body. He's maybe twenty, wearing board shorts and nothing else, his abs glistening with pool water. "Who invited the porn stars?"

A cluster of guys by the keg immediately abandons their conversation, moving toward your group like sharks scenting blood. You count seven, maybe eight males approaching, their expressions ranging from curious to openly hungry.

"Ladies!" A tall blond guy with a backwards cap steps forward, grinning wide. His chest is tanned and muscular, swim trunks hanging low on his hips. "I'm Jake—this is my place. Don't think I've seen you around campus before."

"We're new," you purr, stepping closer until your corset presses against his bare chest. Jackson's cum has soaked completely through your micro-shorts, and you know he can smell the sex on you. "Heard there was a party. Thought we'd come have some fun."

Jake's eyes drop to your cleavage, then sweep across the other four girls. His grin widens when he sees Milky's leaking breasts, Cherry's tears, Cumslut's cum-stained thighs. "Fun is definitely on the menu. You girls want drinks? Pool's open, house is open—everything's open."

"We want cocks," Candy blurts out, giggling. Her Bimbo effect strips away any pretense of subtlety. "Lots and lots of cocks. In all our holes. Right now."

The guys surrounding you exchange glances. A dark-haired guy with tribal tattoos on his shoulders laughs nervously. "Shit, you serious?"

"Dead serious," you growl, pressing your bronze body against Jake's. Your perpetually wet pussy throbs against his thigh. "We came here to get fucked. Who wants to volunteer?"