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Chapter 76
by
Me333
Where do you go?
To Ashton, Mary and Jason!
Jamal’s strong, dark arm stayed draped around your shoulders, a warm, possessive weight that guided you back into the throng of the party. The world seemed to swim slightly, the lights from the pool and the patio lanterns blurring at the edges. You were drunk, and the **** had smoothed the sharp, terrifying edges of your thoughts into a dull, curious hum. He steered you toward a group gathered near the outdoor speakers, where Ashton was standing.
“Alright, look who’s back in the land of the living,” Ashton’s voice boomed over the music as you approached. He was standing with Mary and Jason, and a few other white students you didn’t recognize.
Jamal’s arm tightened slightly on your shoulder. “Just making sure our boy here didn’t float away into his own head.”
Mary laughed, a bright, genuine sound. She turned to you, her eyes sparkling. “We were just about to send a search party.” She jokes.
Now that you were close enough, you could finally see her bikini more clearly. The fabric was a stark, pristine white, but emblazoned on the center of each breast and right over the crotch of her bottoms was a large, solid black spade symbol.
Your eyes must have lingered a second too long, because Mary caught your gaze and laughed again, not with embarrassment, but with pride. “Like it?” she asked, doing a little twirl. “I love it. I’ve always wanted one, but you can’t exactly wear this to your local public pool, you know? It’s so nice to finally be somewhere I can wear what I want without getting weird looks.” She ran a hand over the spade tattoo on her hip, her smile wide.
Jason, the towering giant beside her, looked down at her with pure adoration. “She looks incredible with the spades on,” he rumbled, his voice a deep, gentle bass. He reached out, his large black hand roaming over her back, down to the curve of her ass. “Honestly, babe, I think you should get more. Like the others, you know? Get one tattooed right here.” He tapped the spade on her bottom, which must be almost over her sex. His hand then moved up her side, his dark fingers softly cupping the underside of her breast, his thumb brushing over the black spade there. He gave it a gentle squeeze, a playful smirk on his face. “I’m good at gripping round stuff. Comes with being a basketballer.”
Mary giggled and swatted at his chest, but made no move to stop him. You quickly looked away, your face hot. You focused on Ashton, who was grinning at you.
“Don’t mind them, they’re like this all night now,” Ashton said with a wink. He turned his attention back to Jamal. “Hey, man, you remember that guy Calvin? From the club fair yesterday? The one who signed up for the BSA and gave me his number.”
Jamal’s grin widened. “Calvin? Yeah, I remember him. The tall, white one with the nice build. What about him?”
“We’ve been texting a lot since yesterday,” Ashton said, his eyes gleaming. “He seems really cool. Funny, smart.”
Jamal chuckled, a deep, knowing sound. “Damn, son, you work fast. Good for you.” He clapped Ashton on the shoulder. “Don’t fuck it up, though. A body like that on a pretty white boy? That’s a premium catch. You might finally get your first official snow bunny.”
Ashton preened under the praise, while the conversation drifted into more small talk about the party, how great the music was, how freeing it felt to be so open, to live out the truth of their relationships without judgment. The words washed over you, a mix of familiar and foreign concepts. Your drunken brain couldn't quite grasp the edges of it all, the casual talk of ownership and spades and "catching" boys. It was all becoming a pleasant, overwhelming hum.
You started to drift off, your eyes unfocusing from the group in front of you. Your gaze, as if drawn by a magnetic ****, drifted back across the patio to the bar.
The scene there had changed again. Or rather, it had intensified...
What do you see?
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The Black Students Association
Initiation
The plane from Germany feels like a lifetime ago. All that’s real now is the weight of the suitcase in your hand and the sprawling, unfamiliar campus of your new American university. You’re Emile, white, eighteen years old, an exchange student, your straight, or at least you think you are, your body is average, besides the big bubble butt that you always got bullied for, and your new home is a dorm room with two beds. Your roommate is Jamal. He’s tall, athletic, with a confidence that seems to radiate from him. His skin is dark, his smile is sharp and disarming, and his presence... it’s just commanding. He’s not just another student; he’s the heart of the Black Students Association, the BSA, a group everyone on campus respects. They fight for equality, they push back against racism, that’s the official story, the one you would hear in the hallways. But you start to notice things. Little things. The way the white members of their circle look at the Black members. A certain look in their eyes. The way commands are given... and followed. Without question or hesitation. Jamal takes you under his wing from day one. He walks you through campus, his hand a warm weight on your shoulder, introducing you to everyone who matters. He makes you feel seen, welcomed. And somewhere between the campus tours and the late-night talks in your shared room, you start to feel it too. That subtle, magnetic pull toward him. That warm, comforting pressure to just... follow his lead. And maybe, just maybe... you don’t mind at all. This is your semester. Your education. In more ways than one.
Updated on Jun 10, 2026
by Me333
Created on Aug 17, 2025
by Me333
With every decision at the end of a chapter your game state can change. Here are your current variables.
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