Sneak into the dressing rooms
From Create Your Own Story
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| - | There's two dressing rooms, but only one has its curtains drawn. You had thought them empty. Upon closer inspection however, you realize that there's muffled sounds coming from behind the drawn curtain, and a flickering shadow peeking under the lower edge of the fabric. The shadow is thin, | + | There's two dressing rooms, but only one has its curtains drawn. You had thought them empty. Upon closer inspection however, you realize that there's muffled sounds coming from behind the drawn curtain, and a flickering shadow peeking under the lower edge of the fabric. The shadow is thin, its movements jerky and unsure. The sounds tell of someone uncomfortably trying not to be heard while struggling with unfamiliar clasps and measurements. The conclusion is obvious: a girl about as young as your sixth grade host. |
| - | "Uhm, | + | "Uhm, Mom?" comes the girl's wavering voice. |
You quickly shoot a glance over your shoulder - the woman, surely the girl's mother, and the clerk are still locked in discussion. It looks like they're far from done. Lingerie, it seems, is a fascinating subject. | You quickly shoot a glance over your shoulder - the woman, surely the girl's mother, and the clerk are still locked in discussion. It looks like they're far from done. Lingerie, it seems, is a fascinating subject. | ||
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"Could you hand me one of the other ones?" the girl speaks again. It's obvious what she means - a lineup of different bras and assorted pieces of lingerie hang outside her dressing room. | "Could you hand me one of the other ones?" the girl speaks again. It's obvious what she means - a lineup of different bras and assorted pieces of lingerie hang outside her dressing room. | ||
| - | A devilish smile | + | A devilish smile spreads across your lips, and with it comes some long-forgotten demonic magic. You mouth the incantations under your breath, cursing the bras and other pieces. |
Do you hand her: | Do you hand her: | ||
| + | *[[the A-cup]] | ||
| + | *[[the silk thong]] | ||
| + | *[[the DD-cup]] | ||
| - | + | Or do you: | |
| - | + | *[[Slip the thong on yourself.]] | |
| - | + | {{RampageTemplate|who=[[Brandon Jones|12th Grade Boy]]}} | |
| - | + | ||
| - | + | ||
| - | + | ||
| - | [[Slip the thong on yourself.]] | + | |
| - | + | ||
| - | {{RampageTemplate|who=[[Brandon Jones| | + | |
[[Category: Rampage]] | [[Category: Rampage]] | ||
Current revision as of 18:24, 31 October 2015
There's two dressing rooms, but only one has its curtains drawn. You had thought them empty. Upon closer inspection however, you realize that there's muffled sounds coming from behind the drawn curtain, and a flickering shadow peeking under the lower edge of the fabric. The shadow is thin, its movements jerky and unsure. The sounds tell of someone uncomfortably trying not to be heard while struggling with unfamiliar clasps and measurements. The conclusion is obvious: a girl about as young as your sixth grade host.
"Uhm, Mom?" comes the girl's wavering voice.
You quickly shoot a glance over your shoulder - the woman, surely the girl's mother, and the clerk are still locked in discussion. It looks like they're far from done. Lingerie, it seems, is a fascinating subject.
"Could you hand me one of the other ones?" the girl speaks again. It's obvious what she means - a lineup of different bras and assorted pieces of lingerie hang outside her dressing room.
A devilish smile spreads across your lips, and with it comes some long-forgotten demonic magic. You mouth the incantations under your breath, cursing the bras and other pieces.
Do you hand her:
Or do you:
| You are possessing: |
|---|
| 12th Grade Boy |
