Futanari Notebook Ch. 14

Carmen glanced back around the corner, watching Zoey leave the short redhead of Gretchen's group. Rachel, if she recalled. They were of equivocal height, though the tanned girl still retained a couple of inches on her friend. How long would that last? She resumed her path to the classroom, doubtful that she could help more than she already had, not without telling Zoey the truth. Dread oozed from the idea of someone discovering what she had done.

As per usual, Carmen stepped into the horrid excuse for a classroom. Desks sat in three columns and four rows, crowding the space not allowed for the teacher to move. It was fortunate that most girls at Saint Puella had average builds, otherwise they might be trapped between desks. Facing them all, was the teacher's once ornate, now vandalised desk, above which a chipped and dusty whiteboard hung. Carmen ignored them and the ominous creaking of the floorboards beneath her feet and took her usual seat beside a window.

Dakota sat to her right. The half-German had turned a new leaf in the recent months. Her lackadaisical nature vanished, leaving in its place an above average student, ready to learn and enrich her life. It was a shame she must do so in Saint Puella. Carmen glanced at her friend, who had a new notebook sat out before her. Silver patterns decorated the covers and framed her name.

She glanced to her vacant desk. Her bag laid against its inner leg, deflated save for the Futa Note and a mandatory pen, there in case she stumbled upon another notebook, ideally one without lewd and world conquering powers. For the meantime, she would rely on Dakota and her own brain to note anything of interest. They had a substitute today, so the chances were increased, but slim nonetheless.

The teacher entered minutes after Carmen. He was a scruffy gentleman, with a worn suit that looked better suited for the dead and a dishevelled beard, which compensated for the greasy dome of his head. Carmen grimaced at the sight of him and turned her head away. Why she thought Ms. Blake would spend the time and money on a decent sub was beyond her.

Her gaze lingered on the outside world. With Winter at an end, the sparse trees dotted across the school grounds slowly flourished once more, as did the patches of grass. A new beginning for nature, yet her life remained the same. If not worse.

No. Carmen dismissed the notion. What Gretchen did was horrible, enough that her anger seethed at the mere image of her, but silver linings existed in everything, so long as she looked hard enough. This time, all it took was a name; Stacy. Carmen both adored and hated the warmth that name brought her.

Adored, for it dispelled the despair of sitting in a class of strangers. Hated, for the desire it fuelled. Her legs pressed together, concealing her panties from view. Her arousal had become bolder of late, rearing its seductive head to seep from her pussy and swell her tender clit, and pushing upon her the visage of her newfound friends, unrequited guest and girlfriend at even the slightest moment of frailty. Carmen sighed and laid her chin in her palm at the thought of Stacy.

She didn't have work yesterday. Today would be the first time seeing the bountiful coffee lover since their date, since they'd come close to breaking every code of employee-employer conduct, since she'd caught a glimpse of heaven in those ripe, milky tits. She latched her spare arm to the side of her desk. Carmen bit her bottom lip, hoping to absolve her urges through pain.

Why did life have to be so complex? She wondered, staring down toward the simplistic Earth below, though she supposed all lifeforms were the same in one way or another. They all sought nutrients in the easiest, most plentiful way. It was humans, however, that had to complicate such a simple matter. If she was a dog, she could be adopted into a loving home, fed without her own concerns and petted at any moment. Or if she was a cat, she would wonder between homes and feed off their kindness.

Of course, her solution stayed with her always. Locked away behind a Velcro seal in a tattered bag, it exuded temptation, black tendrils made of smoke and ash writhed within, eager to be released and slither into Carmen's thoughts. Even trapped, wisps of their forms floated into her. Carmen glanced to the substitute teacher. Please let him have something of interest. Anything to distract her. To cull her thoughts of surrender.

He had nothing. Just another bumbling fool who stammered and muttered his way through a haphazard lesson plan left behind. She could fix that. Make him a futa with a respectable job, IQ and hygiene. Who would care?

She would. Carmen's grip turned fatal, imprinting her grasp into the withered desk. To her side, Dakota glance over in worry.

"You alright?" She asked.

"Yes," Carmen said, monotone in her focus. It was harder than ever since she'd turned Zoey, worse than yesterday even, as if her caged frustrations and temptations had begun to overflow from their prison. She wanted Stacy. She wanted to transform someone. She wanted relief.

"Hey," Dakota reached over and took her whitened hand, "It'll be okay."

"You don't even know what I'm thinking about," Carmen said.

"No, but I know you're stressed. I could help? Not like that, obviously. Unless you want to?"

"No," Carmen shook her head. A grin crept onto her face. What Dakota lacked in independency, she made up for in observation.

"Worth a shot. Anyway, I did some massage classes back in middle school. I could give you a shoulder rub," Dakota offered.

"That... actually, that sounds great," Carmen said. She relaxed her grip, grateful for the distraction.

"And I'm more than happy to give happy endings," Dakota added with an unsubtle wink.

"On second thought..." Carmen trailed off.

"I was joking," Dakota chuckled, "Well, not really. The offer's always there."

"Yeah, you've made that abundantly clear," Carmen said, "Thanks, Dakota."

"No problem," the tanned futa leaned back in her chair and reclaimed her hand. Her arms fell lax at her side, unperturbed by any worries, "It's what friends are for."

Carmen did the same. She let her arms hang loose, no tension or restraint, and sat there. Had she ever done this before, laid back without an iota of consideration for the class at hand? It was oddly liberating, though it couldn't last. Once she'd replaced her books, she would make up for lost time. Finals were only a few months away, even the sole straight-A student couldn't afford to relax for too long. Tragedies did happen after all.

Loud shouts carried up to her ears from outside. P.E? No, they usually had indoor classes that day. She righted her posture and checked out the window. Gretchen stepped into view, carrying Zoey underarm while Ashley assisted with her legs. The athlete, once so tall she could at least avoid physical torture, did nothing to resist. She was immobile as the corroded, iron gates they passed through.

"Great," Carmen muttered under her breath and shook her head.

Zoey never returned to school that day. A usual occurrence, according to Mary and Dakota. They often left the school and hung out at the mall, or went home, depending on what Mary or Gretchen wanted to do, only returning if a mandatory assembly took place, something that had become increasingly rare in the recent years.

"Sometimes, you'd basically hold us hostage for days," Dakota laughed. They sat in the cafeteria. Without Gretchen around, few people cared to bother the three. Those that did looked to get into Gretchen's inner circle, or were young and impressionable, acting as the popular girl did to gain points with others. Carmen ignored them with ease; she'd dealt with the same type throughout most of her school years. And worse during middle school.

"I did not," Mary defended, though her cheeks were flushed, "I mean, sort of. It was Gretchen's idea."

"No. Binging on booze and weed was her idea. Yours was to hang out until we ran out of clean clothes to wear. And that was only because you wouldn't lend us yours."

"At least we had fun, right?"

"You did."

"I did?" Mary blinked and frowned, "Honestly, I can't remember what I did."

"Well, I could tell you..." Dakota trailed off and shovelled lumpy mash potatoes into her mouth.

"Oh god," Mary hung her head, "Let's never bring this up again. Okay?"

"Sure. But you gotta do me a favour later."

"Fine."

Carmen sat in silence, observing the two. Under a year ago, she would have dismissed any notion of them spending time together, much less doing so amicably. Would Zoey be her friend too? The Futa Note claimed the afflicted would become infatuated with Carmen, and she had no reason to doubt it after Dakota and Mary. Both propositioned her on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis.

If not for the potential of sleeping with Stacy, Carmen might've relented. She chased the thoughts away, replacing them with dissecting her overcooked pork chop, while devoting her attention to her friends. Such a strange word for the people she had forever altered. Victims seemed too harsh, given their new demeanours compared to before. Mary, in particular.

She looked no different than before, except her natural brunette roots were showing. Her tanned skin remained a lighter shade than Dakota's, giving her an even bronze colour across her augmented figure. A very different treat to Dakota's underused, athletic figure.

"Want a better view?" Mary asked.

"Hmm? What?" Carmen blinked from her reverie. She'd been staring. Again.

"I could give you a private look sometime," Mary continued, running a hand down her low-cut shirt, between the valley of her implants and down to her mini-skirt. The school only demanded that students wear a skirt with their insignia on it, regardless of length or material. Even so, Mary pushed it to the extreme. Her garment barely hid her cock, now strapped against her thigh. She couldn't use underwear anymore either. Not after what Carmen had done to her.

"Or maybe a real show," Dakota interjected, "I'm not opposed to a threesome."

"Weren't you gonna give me a shoulder rub?" Carmen hastily inquired.

"Oh, yeah. Hold still, this'll feel great. Promise."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll be your doll for a day or something. You can brush my hair, touch me anywhere," Dakota sang.

"Careful, I might just accept," Carmen warned, though her grin said otherwise.

"True. Mary would work better anyway. She's got more plastic than I do," Dakota snickered.

"I... yeah, that's fair," Mary sighed and poked at her breast, "I've been thinking about going up a size or two, actually."

"Seriously?" Carmen arched an eyebrow. She compared her own, magically augmented bust to Mary's, who still retained the advantage in sheer size.

"Don't you think you're big enough?" Dakota echoed her thought.

"I do. And don't," Mary said, "Forget I said anything."

"I don't mind if you want bigger boobs, but it just seems excessive," Carmen said.

"They already are," Dakota added, "Besides, if anyone could do with some, it's me."

"Yours are fine, Dakota," Carmen said, glancing to the average but pert mounds behind her.

"It won't happen for ages, anyway. I don't have that kind of money anymore," Mary shook her head, "Anyway, tell me about your boss."

"What?" Carmen blinked, then sighed as Dakota's hand dug into a tense muscle, relaxing it. She was good.

"Your boss. You know, the one you had that date with."

"I thought we agreed not to harp on it," Carmen groaned.

"I just want to know more about her. Maybe take a shot if it doesn't work out for you," Mary grinned.

"She's nice," Carmen relented, "Relaxed, optimistic, caring, hard-working... and she likes me."

"You make it sound like no one else does," Dakota said.

"I mean, she doesn't care what I am," Carmen elaborated, though her own thoughts wanted to know more. What was she?

"I know plenty of lesbians," Mary said, "I could've hooked you up."

"Not like that. It's hard to explain," Carmen said, all while trying to figure out what it was she wanted to explain to herself. Was it the homosexual part? Yes, but it wasn't the core of it. Stacy knew nothing of the Futa Note, so she couldn't accept what Carmen had done with it. It's not that complicated, Carmen realised. She wanted to laugh at herself for overthinking everything.

"She doesn't want anything from me," Carmen finished.

"That wasn't hard to explain," Mary pointed out.

"I lied," Carmen chuckled. Yes, Stacy didn't want her to be something, she loved her for how she was. Ryuka wanted her to be a sexual deviant with untold power. Dakota and Mary wanted her to sleep with them all the time. Her mother wanted her to be better and to be the perfect big sister to Melody, who wanted her to be a superhero. Carmen, herself, wanted to prove herself better than anyone else. Stacy would embrace her and kiss her and talk with her regardless of how she changed.

Dakota and Mary fell silent, their own faces infected by Carmen's relief. Introspection wasn't her strongest point. She could work backwards from any math problem, or dive deep into an author's intent from a single line, but she steered clear of her own mind, certain it contained nothing but fear and stress. Recognising such pressure, and the reason she adored Stacy above all others, was freeing.

Carmen leaned back into Dakota's hands. Occasional insults were hurled at them from across the cafeteria, yet their words were dampened by Carmen's liberation, slight though it was. Perhaps the inner machinations of her mind weren't simply a trap for negativity, or that wasn't its sole purpose to her. But she wouldn't take the risk. A single beacon of light found amidst a galaxy of darkness didn't inspire hope.

Though that lonely speck still warmed her. She looked on as Mary and Dakota chatted between each other, leaving her to enjoy the shoulder rub and minor breakthrough. The blonde might've had a point about her breasts. Carmen thought and pictured the two obtrusive orbs at a couple of sizes bigger, to the point that the shirt she wore barely clung to the bottom curves. Perhaps something extra for Dakota too? She twisted her head around to observe her friend's chest, wondering if a few extra inches would suit her.

It would easy to give them what they wanted. Two minutes and a couple of lines at worst. Neither would think anything of it. Or they could. She could tell them about the book, relieve the burden and let them help control her temptation. No, she decided.

Carmen breathed deep and pushed the thoughts from her mind, including the speck of warmth. Her doubts and desires receded back to their cage, locked deep in her subconscious, away from the light of day. If she relaxed, they would break free and tempt her worse than they already did. This was her life now, or until she found success and could ignore the book. Six years, minimum.

Simple. She'd spent the last eight years in solace, away from her classmates and those who could be her friends, studying and working to make life easier on her family. If it is for Melody, and their mother's sake, then she would succeed. Ryuka could haunt her, the book could tempt her, and her body could change in any manner. All were secondary. So long as she had a goal in mind, she wouldn't falter.

Fed, resolute and shoulders loose, she returned to classes with her small entourage. Lessons passed with her studying the outside world, taking mental notes on whatever might interest her, such as the pair of squirrels sprinting and hopping through the grounds, finding and burying nuts for the encroaching winter. Or on the group of girls stepping back onto campus. Gretchen and her girls.

Carmen's eye found Zoey in an instant, not because she once again stood over the others, but rather she trudged behind Rachel, now the taller of the pair. Annoyance itched across Carmen's skin at the sight, it crackled in her mind and tensed her loosened muscles. Zoey was at her limit. The girl's skirt bulged obtusely with her cock, though it managed to blend into the other folds so the others hadn't noticed. Worst of all, though, was her expression. She looked fit to jump at the crunch of a leaf.

The group moved from her sight as a crackly jingle sounded - the cheap replacement for the school bell. Carmen glanced to the clock atop the whiteboard. They still had an hour until classes ended, meaning it was a rare announcement from Ms. Blake.

"Attention students, I've received reports of bullying going on in school grounds, as such, there will be a mandatory assembly on the subject. You are excused from your classes. As said, this is mandatory. Failure to attend will result in detention. That is all."

The assembly hall doubled as the gymnasium. Rows upon rows of cheap, plastic chairs occupied the space and faced a simple stage, one that hadn't seen a school play or talent show since before Carmen entered the school. Teachers leaned against the walls, chatting amidst themselves. Principal Blake stood on the stage, microphone in front of her. A set of speakers hung on either side of her.

She looked tired. Strands of her greying hair escaped the tight ponytail at the back to hang before her haggard eyes, and her shoulders slumped as if the strength to keep them up had left her. Gretchen sat in the front row, cell phone out in blatant disregard for her behaviour as her mother began the assembly. Someone attempted to bring this to Ms. Blake's attention, only to be reprimanded for it. She couldn't have anyone badmouthing her daughter. Truth or not.

Carmen paid scarce attention. She'd heard these many times before, some of which she had instigated in middle school. They didn't work. She didn't know of one that had. Instead, she focused on the glimpse of Zoey at the front row. Rachel sat beside her, leaning in protectively. It made sense, as she wasn't the smaller one now.

An hour later, Ms. Blake's presentation came to its end, "Don't be helpless. That's all I can say. If you present yourself as weak, then you'll believe it before long. Even if you're stronger than the bully, even if you can do something about it, if you play the victim, you become the victim. Thank you. You may go home early."

For once, the principal had made a reasonable point.

Carmen waited at the school gates. She spotted Zoey approaching, separate from Gretchen and the others, who loitered in the gym. Mary and Dakota had left, as had most of the other students. The diminished athlete came to a stop at the gates. She was tiny, face no higher than Carmen's chest. If something didn't spark resistance in her, then she'd stay that way, forever at Gretchen's foot. Or someone else's, someone worse.

"What happened?" Carmen asked, nodding to the gym and, by extension, Gretchen. They remained inside with another girl, the one who had likely caused the assembly.

"Nothing," Zoey shook her head.

"Don't," Carmen said, "Just don't. You heard the principal, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then stop acting like the victim. She's not gonna stop," Carmen took the diminutive girl's shoulders in her hands, "At this rate, you're gonna be treated like a worthless freak your whole life. Is that what you want?" Silence. Carmen raised her voice. "Well?"

"No!" Zoey shouted back, "I hate it, okay?"

"Hate what?" Carmen pressed, "Standing up for yourself?"

"I hate being like this," Zoey said.

"What was that, bitch?" Carmen snarled, silently cringing at the insult.

"I hate it!" Zoey all but shrieked, bronzed features a burning shade as she did so. Her head raised an inch up Carmen's body.

The honour student grinned, "Finally."

"What?" Zoey blinked and looked up.

"Do that more," Carmen said.

"But it's terrifying."

"All the more reason to do it. Trust me, you'll feel better after a while," Carmen said.