There Is A Weird Bulge In Her Pants

The two of you trek on, with her apparently oblivious of anything that may have happened and you trying your best to put it out of your mind. Still, you can't shake it. No matter how hard you try, you can't get your vivid memories of those slugs out of your head, can't forget how they crawled onto Jean, can't put out of your mind how she writhed and screamed as they did unthinkable things to her, despite apparently having done nothing at all. You know you didn't imagine it, you CAN'T have imagined it, but she was the one being assaulted and she doesn't even remember it. The whole situation is bizarre, to say the least, but you have **** but to just set it aside for now. All you can do for the moment is follow behind her and keep a close eye on her.

It isn't long before watching her so closely yields something, as you notice a... er, package in the front of her pants that you hadn't spotted before. It's not very big, but even with its small size it's clear what it is, and it strongly contrasts the rest of her very feminine body. You're sent reeling by the revelation - you were attracted to her, and she had a... and you aren't a... it's crazy. But maybe your mind is playing tricks on you again. After all, you do seem to have imagined an entire swarm of slugs attacking you here in the middle of nowhere. Maybe this is something you're imagining too?

But this is different. It's not something you remember, or something that's going away when you turn around. If anything, it's getting harder to ignore. You have ****: you have to ask her (him?) about it. But how do you mention something like that? Best to be subtle, you tell yourself. Just try and play it smooth.

"Hey... um, what's that in your pocket?" You point straight at the bulge. Yeah, real smooth, just sticking your finger out straight at it. She doesn't seem to notice though, instead of giving you a sceptical look like she has no idea what you're talking about while she reaches a hand into her pocket. Once it's in there, her fair skin turning completely white with shock, and you can tell by the look on her face that she didn't know about it either.

"It's... it's... it's a..." she stutters, not needing to finish off her sentence. You both know what she's saying, both know what's down there, and both know how extremely weird that is. Instead of saying another word about it, you both just stare at each other, boggled by what could have caused this. That's when you realize: the slugs. She may not remember them, but they must have been real because there's no other explanation. They must have done this. You can only hope they didn't do anything else to her.