Far Away At Willoughby Academy (Part 1) [F][MF][Fsub][Reluc][Exh][ENF][College][SciFi][AltReal]

**Far Away At Willoughby Academy (Part 1)**

**[F][MF][Fsub][Reluc][Exh][ENF][College][SciFi][AltReal]**

Note: I’m trying something a little different here, story-wise, so if you have any feedback, I’d appreciate it. Otherwise, enjoy…

—-

Regina was running late. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal for her, but it was problematic on her first day at college. She wasn’t the brightest of students, one of the reasons she was attending Willoughby Academy, a specialty college in backwoods Massachusetts rather than some ‘real college’—as she called—anywhere else. She’d been dropped off the night before, having already missed the first day of move-in and campus orientation, since her mother had been called into work and later caught in traffic. Regina wasn’t really mad about that, but it was one more thing frustrate her with her mother. Somehow, it was apparently still Regina’s fault in her mother’s eyes. That night, she was ushered right up to a temporary dorm room. Today was academic orientation. She’d be assigned a roommate, a room, and move forward from there. Regina had hoped to make a good impression, especially as her mother made a big point about the strings that had been pulled to get her into Willoughby.

“I know you think you’re missing out,” she’d told her in about twenty different ways in the ride up from Pennsylvania, “but I’ve been assured that Willoughby not only produces model students, but their placement into good internships and jobs, is well-above 75%.” Regina hadn’t really cared. She was under the impression this was some sort of junior college, a commuter school, maybe—she hadn’t done much research—so the idea of having some semblance of ‘real’ college life was all she really cared about. She’d gone to college parties a lot in her junior and senior years of high school, probably one of the many reasons she barely graduated, but the parties were fun, way more interesting than anything in high school…and the guys, well, she had no complaints there, either. “Honestly, after being caught with those two boys in the high school pool…” Regina suppressed a grin. They weren’t even students at her high school. They broke in over the summer, three weekends in a row, before finally being caught. The fact that they’d been caught naked, and doing much more than swimming, had almost gotten them all arrested, until her mother pulled strings yet again. “I honestly wish that you took sex seriously enough to not just have it on a lark….with anyone, at any time.”

“Things are different now, mom,” Regina said, “we just don’t…we’re not prudes.” Regina was tired, certainly tired of arguing, and fell asleep for the remainder of the car ride. Sex was an escape, an occasional weapon of rebellion against her mother, but not something she much worried about. Her mother would’ve preferred a nineteen-year-old virgin sitting next to her, but she had Regina instead. She barely recalled being led to her room after the car ride, her mother saying goodbye. The room was stuff, making her head spin a little, though it was mostly exhaustion after the long car ride. Still, she fell asleep more soundly than she ever remembered.

—-

Regina finished brushing and tying back her hair, then hiked up her jeans, before heading out to the main hall and following the signs to orientation. She walked up to a young woman in a business suit sitting behind a foldout table.

“Is this the orientation room?” Regina asked.

“Yes,” the woman said stiffly, “and you’re late,” she looked her up and down, “and out of uniform.” She pushed a clipboard across the table. “Sign in here, go inside, take any seat you want.”

“Uniform?” Regina muttered, writing her name and handing back the clipboard.

“You probably won’t be penalized too badly, but yes, all first year’s must wear uniforms—even during orientation. Your acceptance materials explained all of this in detail. And,” she added, “they explained this thoroughly *yesterday* as well.” Regina smiled pleasantly, a trick she learned over the years that conveyed, well, anything but contradiction. She had no idea about the school at all. The materials her mother left on her bed a month or so ago had collected a fine layer of dust. She looked it up on her phone, say it was in Massachusetts, in the woods, it looked like, and groaned at not going to someplace warmer. Other than that, what did it matter? Her mother had even filled out the application to Willoughby and written the essay for her. She thanked the woman and pushed through the doors into the orientation room. A few eyes turned in her direction, but most were looking to the tall blonde woman at the front of the class. She wore a gray pencil skirt, black heels, and a white blouse with some frill at the collar and three-quarter sleeves. Her blonde hair was tied back in tight bun, and she peered over her black-framed glasses as Regina walked in. The glasses made her look older, though she was probably in her thirties, at best.

“Miss…?” The woman asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Regina…um, Regina Trent.” She sputtered.

“It is the first day of academic orientation, of course, but you are out of uniform—.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, moving toward an empty seat, “I didn’t know. I didn’t arrive until last night…transportation issues.” She added hastily. Of the two dozen students in the room, all the guys were wearing dark gray suits with crisp white shirts, the lapels of the jackets and legs of the pants trimmed with maroon stripes. The girls wore similar jackets, cut a little closer, with white shirts underneath, and a flared circle skirt, also dark grey with a maroon stripe circling the lower hem and tight waist. She also noticed each girl was wearing dark hose and chunky black heels. She rolled her eyes at the hose. The uniform was passable, but having to wear hose every day…ugh.

“I appreciate your sincerity.” The woman said. “And I did *just* start, so I’ll begin again.” She stood straighter, tapping her desk with her short nails. “I am Ms. Corbin, Dean of Academics at Willoughby. I am responsible for turning you into fine students, capable young adults, and worldly ones at that. I rarely fail. This is only partly due to my skill, the majority of success results from your own willingness to be better than person you were before you entered Willoughby grounds. Oh, I know many of you are thinking that this college is a consolation prize, no Ivy League, no west coast sun, no Big 10 school, but I assure you Willoughby is elite in its own manner. Some of you, no doubt, know this, and are aware of our sterling reputation. All of you, in time, will come to realize the doors Willoughby can open for you. Now, since we have a late arrival, she can assist me with the next part of orientation.” Ms. Corbin opened a box on her desk, removing a few trays of bracelets. “Miss Regina, please distribute these to the class.” Regina moved quickly from her desk and took one of the trays and handed a bracelet to each student in the row. Ms. Corbin did the same on the other side. Finally, Regina took her own bracelet and sat at her seat again. “Place the bracelet on your non-dominant wrist and click it closed.” A series of loud clicks followed the command. “This is your student ID, how you pay for things, how you are tracked, how you are monitored. Some of you are already giving me looks. You did not read your welcome package in your rooms. Laziness, lack of curiosity, is no longer tolerated. The bracelet is not much different from a fitness tracker, though it’s one you’ll find quite impossible to remove.” Some people started tugging, though, Regina say quietly, simply glancing from her bracelet back to the dean. “This is for your safety. The nearest town is ten miles away through a thick forest dotted with occasional mires. Wander off campus, and we will find you—eventually. Students, thinking to have a beer or two in town, have found themselves lost in the woods for nearly 24 hours. We can track you, but it’s not perfect off campus. People have died…” She said, ominously. The class started muttering. “Not in ten years or so…but still, fair warning.” She laughed.

“But why,” a student raised his hand, “can’t they be removed?”

“Would you prefer to have someone wandering around buying things on your account, perhaps breaking the rules and pinning the blame on you, or for us not to know of your successes? At Willoughby, we have learned from these past mistakes.” She said. “Also, of course, there is this…” She held up her phone and tapped a button. Regina felt her arm jolt, and her and the rest of the class yelped. “Wakes you up, doesn’t it? Before any of you think to call home to mummy or daddy, that was *not* a shock, it was neuro-response stimulation. The bracelet can make you feel localized pain. It is not an injury. It cannot kill you, burn you, or any other variation. It is pain at its worst, and a motivator at its best. You cannot block it with cloth, or any other substance. Feel free to try, though. We’re always looking for bugs to fix.” She gave a satisfied smile. “In each twelve-hour school day, eight in the morning to eight in the evening, you are expected to be in uniform. You are expected to sign up for five classes, one extracurricular activity, and spend at least one hour in the library each day. For those of you weak in mathematics, that accounts for seven of your twelve hours. The rest of the time is yours, more or less. Your weekends are yours, more or less, and holidays, should you choose to stay on campus, are, of course, yours. Fail to comply, though, and you will receive a reminder,” she tapped her phone, and everyone yelped once more, “every fifteen minutes until you report to a dorm master or someone affiliated with my office to correct the issues. With that, your time at Willoughby has officially started. You have thirty minutes to get to Auditorium A. There, you will select your classes. Dismissed.” Everyone started moving out of the room, though Regina was taken by the arm by the dean. “A moment or two, Miss Regina.”

“Yes, dean?” She asked, as the other students filed out. The dean held up a finger to silence her.

“Mr. Gunderson,” she said into her phone, “would you be so kind to bring a female uniform kit to the Orientation Room? Size…” She looked at Regina and guessed her sizes perfectly. The voice on the other end said her would be there in five minutes. “Now, since you’re going to be running a few minutes late to class selection, I can register your bracelet here.” She tapped a few buttons on her phone, brought up a file on Regina, her picture already in it, and held her phone to the bracelet until they both beeped. “There we go…now you exist in the system.” She scrolled through some items. “You’ll be in Crenshaw Dorm, room 211, second floor, bear left, and your roommate will be…” She tapped a few more buttons. “Kiera O’Grady.” She held up a photo of a pale redheaded girl with glasses and freckles. “You’d think she’s fresh off the boat from Ireland, wouldn’t you? She’s from Minnesota.” There was a knock at the door. “Ah, Mr. Gunderson.” A middle-aged man with slicked-back dark hair, a well-fitted suit, though a slight belly, walked into the room. He held a brown box in his arms and set it on the desk. The dean scanned the box with her phone, then tapped Regina’s wrist. “Your account will be charged for this uniform. You may purchase others at the college store. We recommend at least three sets, though students, female students in particular, often find it more convenient to purchase more.” She looked at her watch. “Now, if you’d be so kind to get changed, I can lead you to Auditorium A so you don’t end up in all the terrible classes.” She laughed. “There are no terrible, classes, really.”

“Um, is there a bathroom nearby, or a closet?” Regina asked.

“Oh, please, here, now, Miss Regina, you don’t have time to waste.” Regina glanced at Mr. Gunderson, who stood there patiently, but expectantly. “Don’t mind him. He’s seen it all before. Mr. Gunderson has been fitting Willoughby students with uniforms for nearly two decades. What do you say, Mr. Gunderson, will Miss Regina have anything under her street clothes that will surprise you?”

“Not unless they’ve invented a new level of depravity since last semester.” He chuckled.

“There, now, please get undressed, Miss Regina. Mr. Gunderson will take your street clothes in the box up to your dorm room while you’re going about the rest of your day.”

“I just…this is really weird.” Regina said.

“No,” Ms. Corbin said, “it is the way things are done. Now, are you going to get dressed or do you need a reminder?” She held up her phone. Regina gave a slight frown. The ‘shocks’ were just painful enough to be annoying, like getting snapped with a rubber band, but no one really volunteers for that feeling, do they? She kicked off her sneakers, glanced once more at Mr. Gunderson, before turning her back to him and unbuttoning her jeans. She slid down her jeans, stepping out of them, knowing Mr. Gunderson was getting a good look at her ass in her boyshorts, but there wasn’t much she could do. She peeled off her t-shirt, then her socks, and gathered up the clothes, setting them on the desk. “The bra and panties, too, Miss Regina. Those are also part of the Willoughby uniform.” Regina’s face went slack, but she quickly recognized the dean wasn’t kidding when she opened the uniform box and saw a bra and pair of underwear, each in separate labeled bags. She took off her bra, keeping one arm over her breasts, then, with her free hand, pushed her underwear down in alternating left-to-right movements until she could step out of them.

“Lovely,” Mr. Gunderson said, “but nothing I haven’t seen before, truly.” He stepped around Regina so he was standing next to the dean in front of her. Regina kept a hand in front of her crotch, the other arm over her breasts. Mr. Gunderson plucked the panties Regina’s hand, clamped in front of her pussy, and set them with the other clothes. He then pulled open the bag with the bra and held it out to her. “Let’s see if it fits.” Regina took it from him, but realized she couldn’t keep doing this, keeping covered, hiding, and not waste all her time to choose classes. She started to pull on the bra, adjusting the straps a bit, and was surprised to see it clasped in the front. It was simple, with basic lace and some sheer panels. Her pink nipples were visible through the fabric making up the top half of her cups, though she had to admit, as embarrassing as getting dressed like this was, the bra itself was well-made and comfortable. Gunderson had the panties waiting for her when the bra was on. They were low-cut, but appeared to offer full-coverage, also made out of the same mostly sheer lace of the bra. She pulled them on quickly, and Ms. Corbin spoke, tapping at her phone.

“I made an appointment with you at the campus salon for five this afternoon. They’ll trim up the loose ends on that ponytail of yours, and then they’ll get you cleaned up down below.”

“Excuse me?” Regina said, making a face.

“The dress code may seem unorthodox, but regarding your pudenda, you may be fully covered, but groomed to no more than one-half inch of pubic hair, or you must be properly landscaped—with a triangle or landing strip above—with waxing below. Most girls prefer waxing, as trimming is much more maintenance, but to each their own. You are trimmed and not well-shaved, so thus, out of compliance.” Regina blushed. “You *really* do need to read your handbook over the next few days. The dorm masters keep tabs on health and safety, proper grooming, among other things.” Regina’s mind raced, but this was hardly something worth fighting about in the moment. She’d already stripped in front of two complete strangers, and was still in revealing underwear. Gunderson handed her a mass of nylon, the dark hose of the uniform, but as she moved to put them on, she saw that they were pull-up stockings.

“Line up the toe seam on the top of your toes and the heel seam at the back, and they should slip on smoothly, Miss.” Gunderson said. She’d never worn stockings except as part of sexy Halloween costume, and they certainly weren’t as nice as those in the uniform. She pulled the first one on, adjusting it a few times, before the lacy stocking top fit at her thigh, then the other, a little easier with practice. She was handed the blouse next, which was a collared v-neck, showing a little cleavage, but not much more. It followed the contours of her body so well that she barely need to struggle to tuck in the tails when she stepped into the circle skirt. The defined waist of the skirt was flattering, and she sort of wished there was a mirror in the room. The jacket was the last bit, and she slipped it on, once again finding a near-perfect fit. “You can come see me if you want particular tailoring.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell the dean,” he glanced in Ms. Corbin’s direction with a grin, “but some of the young women like a shorter hem or a closer fit on the blouse.”

“The administration is well-aware of your tinkering, Mr. Gunderson, and if your tailoring wasn’t so impeccable, the day might come where we may yet have words.” The dean said. Regina paused for a moment, watching Mr. Gunderson start to fold up her old clothes, including her underwear, and place them in the box. “Slip on your shoes, and let’s go, Miss Regina.” She did as the dean asked stepping into the shiny black shoes, and she followed behind the dean, her square heels clicking in unison with the blonde woman’s not-quite-stiletto heels. “Auditorium A.” The dean announced. Go inside, start at station one, and work your way around to registration kiosks. You’re actually about five minutes early, so you may have a chance at getting everything you want this semester.” She left Regina in the doorway, and Regina went inside, talking to department heads and planning out her academics.

—-

After two hours, she had registered in a refresher math course, art, biology, history, and a philosophy course. She saw the redheaded girl who was going to be her roommate and approached her.

“Hi, um, Kiera?” The girl looked up at her. “I’m Regina. The dean, she let me know we’re going to be roommates.”

“Oh, wonderful…I get saddled with the girl who doesn’t know to show up in uniform, let alone on time…”

“I blame my mother. She got us here very late last night, and, well, it really threw me off. I’ll be better, I promise.” Regina smiled, trying to be polite, even though Kiera had made no effort to do so.

“Yeah, my parents were ecstatic to finally get me out of the house, no more nerdy daughter making them feel dumb. The joke is, you don’t go here to work your way toward an BA or BS, you go here to get your MRS…”

“Uh, what?” Regina asked.

“To get married, dummy…MRS…missus…duh. Look, many of you are here because you were crap students, but some are here because they’re troublemakers, or there’re others like me who don’t fit the norm their parents want. Just because we’re sharing a room, don’t expect me to become a Barbie doll.”

“No problem.” Regina said, smirking. “I’m a brunette. You want a Barbie, go talk to the dean.”

“No kidding.” She said. “Come on, Regina, let’s go get lunch. We have to pick an extracurricular activity after one thirty.” The girls went to the cafeteria. On the way, she saw what turned out to be second year students. They wore a similar uniform with dark blue stripes, rather than maroon, and there was little more variety in the cuts and styles.

“Wow,” Regina said, after sitting down at a table with Kiera, “when they said all first year’s had to wear uniforms, I thought that meant things changed later…but they’re still wearing uniforms, just slightly different.”

“They’re allowed to choose what they wear and in what combination. Technically not a uniform, right?” She bit into her sandwich. “It’s silly, but we’ll probably come to appreciate the slight freedom next year.”

“My mom did not sell this place as a boarding school or whatever. I was just expecting a slightly more upscale community college.” Kiera almost spit out what she was eating, laughing.

“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me, do you even know where you are? Willoughby is, like, the *best* specialty school in the northeast. Your mom either was a student, is filthy rich, or has some very powerful friends to get you in here.” She took a drink before continuing. “Even with all of that, you had to show some talent to get in here, but yeah, sure, upscale *community* college.” She laughed.

“Hey ladies,” a tall guy with loose brown curls sat next to Kiera across from Regina, “what are you laughing about? I’m Nate, by the way.”

“Oh, my new roommate here was just comparing Willoughby to some pay-by-the-credit community college.” Kiera said. “Nice to meet you, Nate.” She added.

“Well, I mean, you’re obviously new,” he said, looking at Regina, I mean, we all are, but wow, do you know nothing about Willoughby?”

“You weren’t in our orientation class.” Regina said.

“There are 250 incoming students. They don’t have a room big enough to fit us all…did you not read anything, really, about the school?” He asked. Regina shook her head. “Look, I just came over here to see if…” He looked to Kiera, and she supplied her name, “if Kiera was a natural red.” Regina raised an eyebrow at the casualness of the rude comment. “But you better have a long talk with your roommate, because this is not a normal school, and if you’re so oblivious to that, I’m not going to be the one to break it to you. At least I had an older brother and sister who both went here, so I know, mostly, what to expect, but you? Well…have fun.” He smiled and started to stand.

“Wait,” Kiera said, she pulled him back down in his seat, “you wanted to know.” She lifted up her skirt, and pulled out the waistband of her panties, letting Nate see the red curls between her legs. Regina blushed a little, and she wasn’t getting nearly as good a look as the guy. “Off you go. It’s the first day…rules are rules.” Nate nodded and Kiera straightened her clothes, going back to her sandwich.

“I can’t believe you just flashed that guy.” Regina said.

“He asked.”

“Well, it’ a good thing he didn’t ask you to blow him.” Regina muttered.

“No sex on the first day. What the heck did you think I meant by ‘rules are rules’?”

“I know this school is, well, odd, but seriously, you just flashed that guy, weren’t even shy about it, and all…I mean…I don’t *know* what I mean.” She blushed.

“I don’t know where *you* grew up, but from eighteen onward, if a guy asks you for something you give it to him. Willoughby has the First Day Rule, because otherwise, we’d probably all be fucking each other rather than registering for classes or finding out where the library is, but yeah, if Nate wants to get a peek, he gets one.”

“So, you know him, then.” Regina said.

“That guy? No, not at all…I mean, I know his name now, that he has an older brother and sister who are legacies, apparently, but no, never met him before.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t normally just let anyone see me naked, and…”

“But you’re in a uniform, which means Mr. Gunderson has seen you naked…” Kiera countered.

“That’s not the same—.”

“And I can tell, just by looking at you, you’re not a virgin.” She pushed her empty tray away. “I find it had to believe that in, what Kansas or wherever you’re from—.”

“Pennsylvania.”

“Okay, PA, then…are you Pennsylvania Dutch, or whatever they call them?” Kiera asked.

“What? No. I’m from the Philly area.”

“So, you live in *normal* society. Sure, you might not know anything about Willoughby, most families don’t even really know it exists—it’s not as if Willoughby advertises—and even if you do know about it, it’s basically seen as some unattainable rich-kid college, but I mean, come on, your last year in high school, when you were eighteen, probably every guy your age fucked you and then some. Hell, *I* kind of want to fuck you, and I don’t even have *Privilege*. I am not a lesbian by the way.” She added, as if that mattered to Regina.

“What the fuck are talking about?” Regina said.

“Privilege Night? Were you poor or something? Even poor kids do *something* for Privilege Night or Announcement. Listen, I don’t know if your mom kept you cloistered or whatever, but when a guy turns eighteen, they have their Privilege Night party. The girls have an Announcement Ceremony.” She held up her wrist with the school bracelet, just past it was an ornate woven metal band with colored beads embedded in it. “You let your friends know what sexy stuff you’re into, they make you your bracelet, and then you go out partying in your Announcement gown, or you just have a house party or something if you can’t really afford to go out.” She frowned, looking at Regina’s wrist, bare excepy for her school-issued bracelet. “Where *is* yours, by the way?”

“You’re talking gibberish. I don’t have some fancy friendship bracelet, certainly didn’t have a party where I told people my fetishes…and sure, I’ve had my fun in high school, started when I was fifteen, but I haven’t slept with *that* many people.”

“Whoa!” Kiera snapped. “Keep your voice down. Okay, I get it, it’s your first day, you want to make an impression, but pre-Announcement sex is still a felony,” she whispered, “and while, sure, a lot of people have that particular secret in their past, they don’t fucking blab about it.” She leaned back. “Just to be clear, you’re not, like mentally diminished, right?”

“What, no!” Regina snapped.

“And everything works below the belt? You’re not an avowed lesbian or asexual?”

“No…of course, not.”

“Then, I’ll ask again, where’s your Announcement bracelet.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about. I…I think I need to call my mom or something.”

“Sure, Regina.” Kiera said. “You do that. I’m sure she has your bracelet at home. We can probably get you some beads to plug into your school-issued bracelet here at the campus store. I think I saw them yesterday during the tour. The not-quite-handcuff they gave even has a slot for beads, so you can technically just wear this.” She held up her school bracelet to reveal a slot along the bottom just wide enough for the beads present on her other bracelet. “Go call your mom. You have a half hour before we have to pick an extracurricular.” Kiera took both her and Regina’s trays up to the bin, walking over to where Nate was sitting with a couple of guys. Regina looked around the room, seeing all the girls were wearing colored bracelets on the same wrist as the school’s tracker. It was obviously a code, though many of the girls seemed to have similar colors on their bracelets. As she got up to find a phone, at that moment realizing she’d left hers in her room with her hurry that morning, she watched Nate slide his hand up the back of Kiera’s leg as she stood talking to him. His hand was under her skirt and grabbing her ass. She started to take in the fact that similar interaction was occurring throughout the lunchroom, maybe not as blatant as Nate, but some heavy petting by any other measure.

—-

Regina went back to her temporary room and found it open, some maintenance guys taking her luggage and bedding and putting it onto a cart.

“Did you need something?” One of the men asked. “We’re just moving these things to your permanent residence. Crenshaw 211, right?” Regina nodded. “Oh, rookie mistake, you packed your bracelet, didn’t you?” He pointed to her wrist, and she covered it with her hand. “It’s the first day, no worries. I’m not unloading this cart, though, so you’ll have to wait until after orientation to get in your luggage.”

“I, um, just wanted my phone.” She said, grabbing it from a loose bin on top of all the other stuff. “Can I, um, make a call in here?”

“Sure, we’re just leaving. Close the door behind when you’re done, that’s all.” The two men wheeled the overloaded cart with all her belongings out of the room. She closed the door and sat down on the bare bed, dialing her mom.

“Well, this is a first.” Her mother said, answering.

“Hi, mom. Look, um, I know this is going to sound weird, but have you ever heard of an Announcement Party?” She heard her mother laughing on the other end.

“Well, I should say so, considering we spent nearly twenty grand on yours last year.” There was a pause. “Oh, honey, don’t tell me you forgot to wear your bracelet. That’s what this is about, right? I saw yours by the front door when I got home last night. I thought it was one of your spares. How many times do I have to tell you, you don’t leave that out for anyone to see.”

“Mom, this is important…can you, um, can you tell me what my bracelet looks like?”

“Oh, Regina, really?” She huffed. “Look, I know you like to throw things in my face, but there are limits. I think you are quite capable of determining what your *sexual*,” she whispered, “proclivities are. I’m sure they have an Announcement section in the campus bookstore. I know *my* tastes changed during college, so you always need to update. Look, honey, I have to go. I have a meeting in an hour, and my boss likes me there early. He really likes the idea of bending me over the table before I have to give a presentation.”

“Mom!” Regina cried.

“Oh, now you’re shy? But before you wanted me to read off my own daughter’s Announcement bracelet. Have a good first day, dear.” She hung up. Regina sat there, stunned. She had no idea what was happening. Sex was codified? People announced what they liked, allowed every bit of it? The thought crossed her mind to look on her phone, and she scrolled through her photos, finding those dated from her eighteenth birthday.

They were in a hotel ballroom, downtown Philly obviously, and—what the hell, she was naked! Well, she was wearing heels. Her mother was in the background, and eighteen of her female friends, some just passing acquaintances—though she recognized them all—and all dressed up in very sexy dresses. Each was holding up a different colored silk scarf. The next picture had her mostly covered by the various scarves tied around her, though a lot of skin was showing, not to mention the scarves were sheer. Her mother was in one picture with her, then apparently absent from the rest of the evening. Her friends were making her a bracelet, and she saw a few colors, two different shades of green beads, a blue, a turquoise, red, but not a picture of the completed item—ugh! There were some pictures of her at a club, men and women around her, then a guy was untying a scarf, and she was blowing him—on the dance floor! She never kept photos like that on her phone, at least not for long. The scene progressed and she was giving two guys handjobs—with two scarves—and she was getting progressively less clothes. One of her breastsd was fully exposed, the nipple of the other one visible through a sheer scarf. Her friends must have taken most of the pictures, if they existed, because the last set of photos was from a couple hours later, and she was down to just a scarf tied around her waist, her tits and most of her ass exposed to the cold March night of Philadelphia. She was smiling and walking down the street. There was a video, and Regina played it, biting her lip in anxiety. She was bent over against a brick wall, a cop in uniform fucking her from behind. One of her friends…Katy, she could tell be the voice…was narrating.

“Happy Announcement Ceremony, Regina. Look at her, losing her last scarf to the long arm of the law…and he does have a *long*…um…arm.” She laughed. Regina, the Regina in the video, was grinning, really enjoying herself. “Regina claims she’s innocent,” Katy continued, “but I have my suspicions.” The cop turned toward the camera, smiling.

“We’d love to have you ladies stop by the station. I know your friend here is about to be done for the night,” he pumped her a few times for effect, “but that doesn’t mean the rest of *you* have to be done—those of you who are eighteen, of course.” He sped his movements and started crying out ‘fuck’ over and over, clearly coming, and as he pulled out, Regina flinched, seeing come dripping from her pussy. No condom. The cop’s cock was shiny in the half-light, and he untied the scarf from around Regina’s waist and wiped himself off before cleaning up Regina as much as he could before slapping her bare ass. “You girls have a safe night, whether I see you later or not, and you,” he put his arm around Regina, caressing one of her bare breasts, “Happy Announcement. Welcome to womanhood.” He tore the scarf and threw it in the air as the other girls cheered. The video cut off.

“What…the…fuck.” Regina remember none of that, nothing. She’d done all of what she’d seen in the pictures and videos with other people, but never with an audience, certainly not in public, or with a cop. All the girls did this? *All* of them? She looked up the ceremony on Wikipedia and was shocked by the level of detail, that all of it was practiced, in various iterations, by cultures all around the world. It had been around for nearly a thousand years, ever since most of the world religions…*collapsed*? “What the fuck?” Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism…it was all remembered, but none of it practiced. Buddhism was the only major world religion still in existence, and most people didn’t seriously practice it. At best…curse words, blasphemy, was the only real legacy of religion and moralism. She could have spent hours reading up on the crazy world she was in, but she didn’t even know what questions to ask—she wasn’t a good student.

Still, one part struck her. There were no STDs, there hadn’t been any in over a century, and birth control was injected once at the onset of puberty, and turned off once you wanted to have children. God, no wonder she hadn’t cared that the cop came right inside her, no condom, no nothing. She shoved her phone in her blazer pocket and went off to find Auditorium B. She needed to pick an extracurricular activity.

**End Part 1**

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/8z3qcu/far_away_at_willoughby_academy_part_1