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Chapter 3 by Robert West Robert West

Who are you?

Timothy

Well, Timothy, surprisingly, you make it through the first week. Not without close calls, of course. You've seen a few other freshmen pantsed, and wedgied, but nothing too crazy, yet. The most noteworthy incident was seeing a tall freshman girl tied to the flagpole with her pants around her ankles, her bright pink boy shorts on display, as well as the bottom half of he shapely ass cheeks. The one good thing about having a penis like yours was that nobody around you noticed that the scene made you rock hard beneath your jeans.

The first week wasn't easy, but the biggest test is tonight. The freshmen mixer. You've heard it referred to in passing whispers as hell night, but they were only rumors, and it's hard to pass up a chance to mingle with the beautiful women in your class. Maybe you can even reinvent yourself this year. No more Timothy the nerd that everyone picks on. You can be cool here.

Finishing your mental pep talk, you step out of the shower, towel already around your waist, careful to watch for anybody who might grab for it. As far as you can see, you're all alone. You make a dash for your room, which thankfully, is pretty close to the shower room. By the time you're inside, your heart is racing. You've been on edge all week, but that run every day is the most nerve wracking part. You lock the door, and make your way across your tiny, but private dorm room. You drop your towel, and pull on the blue briefs you previously laid out for yourself, taking a moment to look at your reflection in the mirror.

You've been working out, and you're JUST starting to notice some results. Instead of a light layer of pudge over your thin frame, you're starting to see some light muscle definition. You even notice abs, but your excitement abates when your eyes continue down to the one thing you can't work out, the noticeably tiny bulge between your legs. You frown, and then look over at the tube sock laying on your bed. All through high school you had been a stuffer, mortified at the thought that someone might notice your lesser endowment. It is time to make a decision. Are you going to carry this habit into college, or are you going to drop the sock?

Do you stuff for the freshmen mixer?

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