“So I had idea for a prank,” Stacy says, causing you to groan. Her pranks never end well for you. Like the time she convinced you to light a pile of dog shit on fire on your algebra teacher’s front porch, resulting in detention for the rest of the year. Or the time she coerced you into stealing alcohol for her friends; Rob let you off easy that time, but it could’ve been much worse. Whatever it is, you don’t want to hear it.
“Sorry, Stace, I don’t want to get involved,” you say, jumping down from her palm and walking back down the hall. She moved in front of you.
“Please?” she begs, giving you that puppy-eye look she knows you can’t resist. You really need to work on that.
“Ugh. Fine,” you groan! “What’s your brilliant idea?”
She giggles. “I’m glad you asked.” She produced a mini can of whipped cream (about 3 inches tall, roughly 75% of your height). “I want you to go into Brenda’s room and put whipped cream on the panties she has set out. She just got in the shower, so you’ll have plenty of time.”
“And when she realizes it’s me?”
“She won’t! I bought this mini can, but the regular ones are way too big for you to handle. No offense.”
“A little taken. Fine, but I don’t know if I can lift it.”
Stacy sets the can down in front of you, and you step forward, fully expecting to fail. To your surprise, you’re able to lift it with ease. The researchers did say you’d be disproportionately strong, but you had no idea it’d be this much. Despite being enormous compared to you, it doesn’t feel any heavier than a stack of dishes.
“See? I knew you’d be able to do it!” Stacy says, squealing in excitement. You wonder what’s gotten into her; you’ve never seen her so excitable.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, not letting on how excited you are about your strength. Stacy places you in front of Brenda’s door, opening it slightly. You hear the shower in the distance.
“Wish me luck, Stace.” You walk slowly into the bedroom, then realize there’s no way Brenda could hear you moving on the carpeted floor. You make your way to then bed, avoiding the dirty laundry (Brenda’s kind of a slob). Once there, you see the pair of panties laying over the bed. You climb the sheets, holding the can by the nozzle. You spray a decent amount of whipped cream in the panties, then jump down and start making your way to the door. Suddenly, you hear Brenda’s bathroom door open, and you scurry under the bed. She makes her way over to the bed, dropped her towel, and pulls on the pantries. It’s the moment of truth. You hear a squelching sound, then a deep sigh.
“Stan!” You hear Brenda say loudly. So much for anonymity.
She sounds...
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
