The Harem on the Hill (Part XXX) (Patreon)

You pause outside Tabitha's chamber and check the interior cameras to be sure she’s not lying in wait for an ambush. They show the statuesque redhead standing behind a chair in the kitchen.  It looks like she's doing leg lifts, but it's hard to tell with her lower half obscured.

You’re tempted to knock, but ultimately decide against it. It's hard to shake the gentlemanly facade that defined your life for so long.  That's what you've presented to the world and that's how the world knows you...save for one or two alleged indiscretions. Still, you make a ruckus so you won't totally surprise her. 

"I'm eating!  I'm eating!"  Tabitha shouts frantically as you enter. As you turn into the kitchen, her emerald eyes widen to match her chipmunk cheeks.  Then she spits whatever they're crammed with into a napkin. It looks like the remnants of a donut. “Thank God it’s you,” she gasps. “I thought it was that psycho, Laura.” 

It takes a second for you to remember that “­­­­Laura” was the trumped-up alias Tina used to pose as one of Tabitha’s erstwhile classmates. Apparently, their reunion hasn’t been a fond one.   

Your homecoming with Tabitha is much more pleasant. It’s been three months and thirty pounds since you’ve visited her in person and, as she rushes to give you a desperate hug, you soak in the changes. She’s so relieved to see you that she either doesn’t realize how immodestly she’s dressed or doesn’t care. Her hot pink panties and neon green sports bra can’t contain the jiggles as she jogs over.

“You have to help me,” she pleads, engulfing you in her arms. “She says I was a cunt to her in school and need to be taught a lesson, but I don’t even remember. Sure, I was a cheerleader and a little cliquey, I suppose, but I thought I was nice to everyone.”

As Tabitha rambles, you relish her warm breath in your ear and the even warmer press of her flesh. “I believe you,” you finally respond, assuring her with a squeeze of her spongy back.  The good cop, bad cop ploy has its benefits. 

“Please,” Tabitha sobs, the donut-tinged sweetness of her breath mingling with salty tears. “I’ll do anything.”

Anything?

How do you respond?