Jennifer had never slept better. Be it the sensual feelings of her body wearing her out or the soft caress of her four breasts, she knew that sleep had never been so wondrous. As she stirred, she stretched out her four arms, grasping at invisible handles. A strange feeling she had was what she assumed boys called "morning wood," though hers was double as she had twice the man-meat between her legs. She acknowledged her long erections by pushing against them with her breasts. She was still amazed by her changes, how grotesque and wild they were. At the start of the day before, she had nothing weird going on at all. Now, she had limbs that would never belong on a regular human.
As she rolled to her side, she caught sight of her alarm clock. Panic set in as she saw the time; it was ten minutes until the bus was to arrive! Jennifer jumped out of bed and went to her dresser without a second thought. She had taken some time the previous afternoon to grab larger bras and skirts from her mother's closet and drawers. The bras were a no-go, as her breasts were now four in number, and they were several cup sizes above her mom's. So she decided athletic tape would be her best bet for the lower breasts, while the largest bra would attempt to contain her originals. Donning the same skirt as the day before, she made sure to have her twin shafts hidden and that her four balls were comfortable below them. For her pussies, she opted for a pair of larger panties to hide most of both. The top she picked was baggy and able to make her second pair of arms vanish, though she would still need to watch out for coordination mishaps. Then, it was a light jacket overtop to complete her look. Taking it all in, she appreciated the way she could style herself despite the debilitating transformations.
"Fuck, that last roll did a number on me," Jen commented on her body. "I gotta be more careful. There must be a way to bypass rolling high numbers or something. Otherwise, things could get ugly for me. Kyle is priority one, and getting this all reversed."
She stumbled downstairs once fully dressed, only two minutes before the bus was to show. She quickly slapped a sandwich together, letting her second set of hands help her a little, before retucking her shirt and heading out to the bus stop. As soon as it pulled up, she could feel the stares from on board.
'This is going to be a long day.' Jennifer thought.
A long day it was. She was essentially the talk of the school now. Her breasts were the centre of the gossip, though only the two visible ones. Thankfully, everything else had stayed hidden beneath her clothing. Her classes were uneventful despite more eyes looking her way than usual. Having such big breasts was crazy enough, but hiding two more of equal size below them was insane and also hard to manage. No one really questioned the sudden spurt or that her clothing was swinging away from jeans and tees to skirts and overskirts. She hadn't seen Abby, so she assumed her sister had played hookey with her friends and avoided school. Abby was a notorious tattle teller, and had she been there to see Jen, their mom would have been screaming home in less than ten minutes. As far as Jen could tell, things were going pretty well.
Until her last period's biology class. Things began to unravel as soon as she neared the room. Before entering the classroom, she spotted the figure from the day before: a black hoodie and grey jeans, face obscured but smile visible. They ducked away, and Jen swiftly entered for fear of having some weirdo approach her. The next hurdle was a girl. And not just any girl. It was a busty clique leader named Heather who saw fit to make everyone's day a living hell. Her looks were killer, as were her attitude and style. She went out of her way to get other students suspended or sent off to the office. The teachers couldn't help, as her parents had enough connections to get them to shut up. Heather was untouchable, and when you got in her way, you got burned hard.
Today, Heather had decided Jen was next on the beatdown list. Cautiously, Jen went up to her, eyeing her stolen seat. Heather was chatting with other girls in her clique, and some unfortunate participants were drawn into it by force. One was her friend Rose, who had been a pal to Jennifer for the longest time. She was uncomfortable, especially with Heather making her chat. As soon as Jennifer stood over her desk, Heather began her routine. She rolled her eyes, looking up at Jennifer and smirking.
"Well, if it isn't the talk of the town. Sorry, am I in your seat?" Heather said.
Jennifer responded, "Yeah, it is. I suggest I have my seat and you have yours, please."
"Oooo, manners! Someone I can relate to. Here, let me try them," Heather cleared her throat and strung hair out of her face, "How about you fuck off, please?" She did a silly face with it, which ticked Jen off. The clique friends snickered and Heather joined them.
"My seat, bitch."
All the girls stopped laughing.
Heather was flabbergasted. "I'm sorry, what the hell did you say?"
"Heather, go to hell. Enough people have to deal with your bullshit each day, so don't think for a second I have the patience for you. You can try to weasel your way into everyone's lives, but you cross a line with me." Jennifer crossed her arms over her chest, accentuating her bust.
"What the fuck?!" Heather blurted out. "Are you that fucking dull? Do you know-" Heather was cut off when Jennifer slammed her palms flat on the desk.
"I don't give a shit that mommy and daddy dearest are wiping your ass each day just to screw someone else over," Jennifer leaned in, "In this place, you and I are equals. This desk? Mine. That desk, over there, on that side of the damn room? Yours. Capeesh, bitch?"
Heather's jaw was open in a scowl. No words came out, too stunned to speak.
"I'll take that as a yes. Now scram." Jennifer pointed away, and Heather complied, still full of rage at the girl who had just upset her.
"Damn Jen, where'd that come from?" asked Rose. Jennifer shrugged and sat down.
As Jen took her seat, all eyes were on her. Her life was quickly changing, regardless of the die.
The next issue was during the latter half. Her cocks were stirring slightly, which was not a good sign. Jennifer had wanted to keep them down, but time was moving at a snail's pace. Her lower boobs hurt from being bound, and her other arms were fiddling with themselves. She did her best to keep her body sated, distracting her lower arms by locking them in a handshake or massaging the undersides of her lower tits. The cocks would not listen, though, and were getting harder to control. She worried that sooner or later there would be an issue.
Then she made a mistake. Jen had brought the D20 but placed it inside her bag this time. It sat amongst her notebooks and drawing tools. As she pulled out her ruler, the die spilled out and skittered on the floor. She held back a gasp as it rolled into the aisle between her and Rose. Finally coming to a stop, the number was...