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Chapter 8
by ShamusBaran
Do you risk using the notebook in front of her?
Yes. I want to watch those boobies fatten.
You check the hall to make sure no one is around, and go back to her room. You knock.
"Hey Shannon, I remember what I wanted to ask you. It's important."
You hear her groan through the door. After a few moments, she cracks open the door giving you a **** glare, she's dressed properly this time, with her usual frumpy sweater. "What? It better be important."
You write while you bluff. "Hey, uh yeah... I saw something you should probably investigate--"
H Cups Implants. The text flashes red. While she listens to your blather you hear a low gurgling noise. Her breasts shake and swell, shimmying under her sweater as cupsizes pile on to her. You lose your train of thought and stop talking.
"Well?" she says.
"Uh..." Your eyes droop to her chest.
She rolled her eyes. "Please tell me your 'important business' wasn't to stare at my tits."
At the worst possible timing, your phone rings, startling you. The notebook fumbles from your hand and falls to the floor.
"Hey. You dropped something."
"Y-yeah. I got it." Your tone comes out a bit too urgent and her R.A. senses pick up on it.
"Wait. What is that notebook?"
"Homework," you scoop it up and answer the call quickly. "Terry look I can't--"
"Oh... so you're suddenly too busy for me now? Did you even get my text about the party? huh?"
"L-look Terry. I--"
Shannon snatches the phone from me. "Terry. Shannon. What party?"
"Uh... huh... Did I say party?"
"What party?" she said, practically hissing.
"Look, I uh... gotta go!" Terry hung up.
"Terry. Terry?!" Shannon grabs me by the collar. "You better spill everything you know. You know you're not supposed to be having parties this time of year. Too many tests."
"I can explain," you say, carefully stuffing the notebook behind you. "He just let us know about a party, at a different school. You know, Midwest. It's a frat party."
"What frat?"
"I don't know!" You say, honestly. "I didn't even look at the text." You flinch. Terry sent you a text. If she see's that you're boned.
You snatch back your phone. "Look. Sorry. I have... I have..." you grab at straws... but you need to say something.
How are you getting out of this?
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Boob Note
Another Story
An interactive tale of a young college student that finds a notebook that can twist reality.
Updated on Apr 16, 2017
by ShamusBaran
Created on Jul 26, 2016
by ShamusBaran
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