Far Away At Willoughby Academy (Part 5) [FF][Fsub][Mast][Med][Reluc][Exh][ENF][MC][College][SciFi][AltReal]

**Far Away At Willoughby Academy (Part 5)**

Regina waited until after dinner to track down the name Miss Stevens had given her days ago. It felt like much longer, but it wasn’t even the end of the first week. She knocked at room 3035 in Turnbull Hall. At half past six, she hadn’t needed to buzz in with her bracelet. Turnbull Hall was a second-year dorm, and much quieter, since the majority of second years weren’t showing up until the weekend. Someone was playing pop music, which she didn’t recognize, but it was echoing from down the hall, making the place seem emptier. One of the things that surprised her was seeing a door for the co-ed common room when she entered the lobby. She wondered if people used it when they had to change into what Regina would only loosely term as pajamas and robes. She re-tucked her blouse and straightened her skirt, steeling herself before walking up to the third floor.

“Enter, young student,” a young woman’s voice called theatrically through the door as Regina knocked, “and woe unto you if you are coming to me with a problem the handbook can easily answer.” Regina walked into the room, closing the door behind her. A short blonde with loose curls was sitting up on her bed leaning against a stack of pillows, heels on the floor, but otherwise still in uniform. By the blue piping, she could see the woman was a third year. “A first year…well…*that’s* unusual. Is this some sort of prank the second years are playing on you?”

“Um, no ma’am. Are you, um, dorm mistress Sands.”

“The one, the best, the only…” She said, setting down her textbook. Regina had no idea what algorithmic topology was, but the textbook was thick. “Sit, tell me the problem, did one of my people give you hard time about something, steal your lunch money? There’s only, like, ten second-years here right now, so…” Regina shook her head, sitting in the chair by the desk. The room was a single, but two-thirds the size of the one she shared with Kiera. Not tight, but a little too cozy for Regina’s liking.

“Miss, um, Stevens said I should come talk to you…about, um…well…”

“No offense…but what’s your name?”

“Regina.”

“Regina, then…*no offense*,” she mocked her tone, “but if you keep stammering, we’ll be here all night. I guarantee you, unless you’ve been jerking off guys into library books and then putting them back on the shelf, I probably don’t give a shit what you’ve done or think you’ve done, how embarrassed you feel, or otherwise.”

“That’s, um, very specific…”

“Because it fucking happened, and one of my girls got thirty hours in the laundry for it last year.” She rolled her neck, easing out a bit of stiffness. “Also, I’m a nerd, I like books, and fuck people who go out of their way to ruin them.”

“Well, that’s not why I’m here.” Regina said, defensively.

“Good, because twice in less than a year would suck. So, I will help if I can, and if I can’t I will try to direct you to someone who will help, okay?” Regina nodded. “I’m Sandra, by the way…yes, Sandra Sands, I know. My parents are fucking hilarious. Most people call me Sandy, and I’d prefer you *not* call me ma’am or dorm mistress unless we’re in a public setting, okay?”

“Yes ma—Sandy.” Regina said, but nothing more. Sandy gestured for her to get on with it. “So, um, Miss Stevens said you were like me…that’s it. That you—I don’t know how else to put it—aren’t supposed to be here.” At that, Sandy sat up on the edge of her bed, looking intently at Regina.

“Did she, now?” She looked Regina over once more. “I don’t know what I expect to see with you girls, something different about you, or whatever, but there’s nothing ever there. Okay, *if* what you say is true—.”

“It is…”

“Then answer me this—god, I sound like the fucking Riddler….” Regina’s ears perked up at her using the word god. “What happened on 9/11?”

“Are you kidding me?” Regina said.

“Not in the least. In ten words or less, you either know or you don’t.”

“Terrorists flew planes into the WTC and the Pentagon.”

“That’s nine words, great job…but not here…it didn’t fucking happen *here*.” Sandy said.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Okay, first off, you need to take a breath. I know over the past handful of days you think you’ve been settling in, coming to grips with being in a very sexually charged world, that maybe this is some sort of advanced courtesan school or something—Harry Potter for whores, maybe—and don’t get me started on how fucked up Harry Potter is in this dimension, universe, or whatever, and you should totally re-read them, but I digress…but you have no fucking clue what you’ve unintentionally fallen into.

“The events on 9/11 never *happened* because religion, almost as a whole, died in the 11th century, Islam appeared in the 14th century…or was it the fifteenth…?” She squinted, trying to remember. “But also died on the vine about 100 years later. The last major world religion hasn’t been a factor for over 500 years…think of that! Wars, terrorism, all of it driven by religion. It’s not that it doesn’t still exist, war or terrorism, it’s just it’s all about territory, resources, economics and oppression now…there are still plenty of egomaniacal assholes trying to run the world.” She sighed. “Let me tell you, you’re going to do fantastic in Comparative Mythology—that’s how they talk about religion—but you’re going to be absolute shit at world history without careful study. There were no Dark Ages, the Renaissance happened about two hundred years earlier, America was discovered in 1375, though oddly enough, we still declared independence in 1776. Yes, by all calendars, it’s still the early part of the 21st century, but by my reckoning, we’re technically living in a world that’s maybe 25-75 years in advance of the one we left…technologically, at least. Look at that laptop.” She pointed to the desk. Regina had thought it was a tablet but she folded it open and saw that it was an incredible thin screen attached to a keyboard. “Now, fold it back up and bang it against my desk. And before you ask, yes, I’m fucking serious.” Regina folded the laptop and smacked it against the desk. “Harder, like you want to smash it.” Regina did it again, much harder, jumping at the loud noise. “Materials science here is so fucking advanced, and the laptop has more computing power than Amazon probably had running its whole website back in our world. I don’t have to type; I can just talk to it, and it gets the grammar right and everything…I get all tingly just thinking about it. It almost makes up for the fact that some random fucking gardener on the campus can call you over and start banging you just because he gets an afternoon stiffy.”

“No one has actually, um…well, had sex with me yet. Well, when I was buying my uniforms, some guy, he…what did they call it…sparked me?”

“Considering it is orientation week, that’s not *that* unusual, though a bit of luck might be in play. As for the gardeners, they have a tight window to go after the students, only after classes are over at three, and before their day is over at five, so sure, but the other guys on campus…the professors who you don’t have classes with…I’m kind of surprised no one’s at least wanted a break-time handy from you.”

“I’m not avoiding people…my roommate, Kiera, she said I had to be careful about that.”

“She’s not wrong, you don’t want people making assumptions about your being a cold fish, but you know, while everyone calls you first years…they still use the term freshmen, too. The more common nickname is freshmeat. It’s not uncommon to have fifty to a hundred guys chase after some first years.” Regina’s eyes got wide. Sandy glanced away, thinking about something. “How much do you know about how the school operates?”

“I’ve read the FAQ, attended orientation…my dorm mistress told me what to read up on in the handbook, too.” Regina said.

“You weren’t a great student in high school, were you?” Regina blushed a little. “who is your dorm mistress?” Regina told her. “Oh, Dominique’s nice, at least, though don’t breathe a word to her about who you are. Her family is old money, and she, while fun at parties, and definitely capable of pleasing a guy or gal, definitely wouldn’t understand. Fucking amazing, tits, though, right?” Regina said nothing. Sandy looked at Regina’s wrist. “Do you know what your school bracelet does?”

“It’s tracks us if we leave campus, and I can pay for things, open doors, that sort of thing.”

“Sure, except, again, you’re carrying something that needs charging maybe once a year, and tracking? Fuck, our old government would’ve creamed themselves to have a toy like that. They know where you are at any moment, who you’re with, near, what you’re doing. Your announcement bracelet is dumbed down version, basically a sex-oriented fitness tracker, but don’t take dumbed down to mean it doesn’t do much… It’s still more powerful than any electronic device you had in your old life. I know you think that anyone can just take you, but that little fifteen-dollar beaded bracelet announces what you like, allow, and it records who is near you, who fucks you…”

“But why do they need all that?”

“It’s not *they*, not a group or agency, it’s just how society is maintained. How society makes sure the rules are followed, how they keep people safe. None of this is free love, free use, whatever you want to call it. You either like certain kinds of sex, various activities, or you don’t. If you do, you can’t stop someone from pursuing you. *We*” she pointed to the two of them, “are the way we are because of *how* we were raised. These people, you get pulled into a corner, a guy runs his hand up your skirt, puts his dick in your hand, you do what he wants.”

“But it’s rape!” Regina snapped.

“No, you—your bracelet—already announced that you consent to anything you have a bead for. No one’s ever going to drug you, punch you, actually hurt you, but yeah, there’s no back and forth of ‘May I please have sex with you?’ and ‘Yes, you may have sex with me.’ There’s still a ton of rules, norms, taboos here, but we, as women, are kind of on the shitty end of it, which appears to be the standard in *any* universe, really. The men have privilege, and you have duty. The Announcement bracelet just makes sure there are no misunderstandings. But don’t imagine for a minute that there aren’t serious consequences for a guy taking more than he’s allowed or a girl refusing, for that matter. You might get a slap on the wrist for a first offense, mistakes happen, but they come down hard with felony charges for sexual misconduct.”

“Do you actually know about all these laws and stuff?” Regina asked.

“Enough to not get in trouble. I also know what’s considered improper, but not illegal, pervy, weird, the odd fetishes here, but that’s all stuff you kind of have to figure out on your own, or spend a lot of time on porn sites.” She added. But, to get back to your school bracelet, I’m sure the Dean demonstrated the neuro-response mechanism.”

“The shock or whatever?”

“Well, at least you were paying attention to that. The thing is, it’s not just zaps… You’ve had lessons from your dorm mistress, Dominique, right?”. Regina nodded, blushing a little at the memory. “So, she’s done the whole thing with having you stand in line, call you girl, examining you, right?” Regina nodded, and you did everything she asked.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I did what everyone else did, said *yes, dorm mistress*, and all of that.”

“*Girl*,” Sandy said, tapping her bracelet, “take off your shirt, skirt, and underwear.”

“Yes, dorm mistress.” Regina said, rising from the chair, and taking off her clothes.

“Play with your nipples until they’re hard.” Regina answered yes again, set her clothes aside, and started teasing at her nipples until they were stiff.

“Why did you want me to do that?” Regina asked, sitting back down.

“The right question is: why’d you do it?”

“You asked…” Regina trailed off. “And it felt really good.” She muttered.

“I ordered you, and you complied, *that’s* why it felt so good. You’re naked now, jsut so you know.” Regina looked down, her eyes widening as she realized her state. She instinctively covered herself with her hands. “I could have just as easily had your play with yourself until you came.”

“I wouldn’t have—.”

“That is something I could *easily* prove to you, but I’m choosing *not* to.” Sandy shrugged.

“Are you saying this thing,” she tugged at her school bracelet, “can control my mind?”

“I don’t really understand the science completely, but it basically makes you very happy to comply with simple and short term—harmless—instructions. I can make you do basic things that you’ve done before or would generally be willing to do. I can’t make you leave here and step out into traffic. I can’t even make you go down on me unless you’re already, at least partly, interested in that.” Regina looked away. “Don’t worry,” she laughed, “I’ll save that for our *second* date. Dorm mistresses control the girls, masters control the guys. It’s part of the Willoughby training process…compliance, being pliable during instruction, being docile, it’s very important to them.”

“Can I put my clothes back on?” Regina asked.

“Suit yourself, but by the looks of it, you didn’t bring any pajamas with you, so by eight…”

“Damn it. I didn’t think of it.” Regina snarled.

“Even *I* still slip on the uniform rules, and I’ve been here almost four years, but you *have* to watch that swearing. Just say ‘fuck’ for everything, it’s easier.” She grabbed the laptop and had Regina sit next to her on the bed. “Let me show you what else that bracelet does.” She opened up the school website and went to a sub-section marked dorm administration. “What’s your student ID number?” Regina rattled it off. “And there we go.” Regina’s photo was on the screen and with a handful of other basic bits of info. “Huh, 19… Thought you were younger.”

“What am I looking at?” Regina eyed the computer.

“Top level? This is you as a Willoughby student. Hmm… Most of your classes are okay. Math professor is a bit of tyrant, but not a hard class per se, just a lot of homework. Swimming? Did you buy your suit yet?” Regina shook her head. “Might want to check on that. Even Stevens may have packed it in with your uniforms. You need it to use the pool in general, but you also need school issue gym clothes as well.” Regina rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’ll learn…for a college that costs as much as this one does, they kind of nickel and dime us, too.” She clicked on a sub page. “Here we go…Ah, I see George Williams came on you…at the shop…On the first day? What an asshole. The whole family are assholes…I knew his older brother. He had me blow him in the morning and fuck him the evening for two weeks straight just because I had to put him off one time when I was running late for class. Fucker always made a point of coming all over me, which is really shitty right before class. No spot fines paid to you from George, though, so you were naked?”

“Yes. How do you know all this?”. Regina asked. Sandy pointed to the screen.

“It’s just an abbreviated code. See.” She pointed. “Your bracelets…Both, I should point out. Recorded proximity to George, semen, presumed to be his with 99.9% confidence based on just him being nearby. There were no spot fines registered by you… Meaning he didn’t come on your clothes or spoil them any other way…so, I assume you were naked.”

“I was being fitted by Miss Stevens.”

“But that’s the only contact since you’ve been here…Wow, you really are a ghost…Oh, shit… You haven’t been using your—Antoinette? Oh, fuck you! You got one of those? Ugh, they ran out, I wanted to buy one this year.”

“Wait, how do you…?” Regina asked.

“Okay first off, *school issued* vibrator, it’s registered to you. You are required to orgasm regularly—.”

“What!”

“Dominique is a nice girl, but she’s obviously slacking in her first week as dorm mistress. She’s assuming you all paid attention in first-day orientation. She’s supposed to remind you that you have an orgasm quota. One a day recommended, but seven minimum a week.” Regina’s face was pale. “Don’t give me that look. Regardless of what you think of this male-oriented society, you’re expected to enjoy sex, and self-pleasure is expected of both guys and girls here.”

“But…?”

“Your school bracelet will record your physical responses indicating orgasm…and hand movements corresponding to it.”. She made a fingering gesture, smirking. “But your vibrator also records activity… The internet of things, you know? It’s not video or sound, if that’s what you’re worried about, it’s all big data, where you are, who you’re with, what you’re doing based on motion, what objects are on or near you…all sorts of factors. See, here,” she pointed, “you’ve been watching TV in the common room almost every night. Here’s where you’ve gone to the library, the bookstore, when you’re in your room. Here’s you here, now.” She pointed to timestamp a few minutes ago and a link indicating location and the fact that Sandy was there. “Seriously, though, you need to start playing with yourself…every day is the best practice… don’t try to get ahead because you’ll eventually miscount. Also, don’t try to do all seven in one day…things get *tender*. I can tell you that from experience.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Eventually, your bracelet is going to start zapping you, and they you have to go see a dorm mistress or admin personnel. If you’re smart, you’ll find Dominique—or me—and at best, they’ll address the problem, help you fix it. To be clear, that means meeting your quota while one of us watches.” Regina went pale. “I mean, to be fair, some people *like* that…but at worst, you’ll probably get extra hours in the laundry. And don’t let people scare you too much with that. It’s boring, and hard work, but the laundry guys mostly leave you be unless you’re a pain in the ass…that said, nobody wants to spend more time there than they have to.” She clicked a few things, and Regina saw her masturbation count go up to four. “That’s the best I can do for you as a dorm mistress. I marked it as equipment failure…hopefully no one will pay too close attention and realize that’s pretty much impossible with an Antoinette…but you have to use it tonight. You’re a blinking light in an otherwise dark system right now. A bored administrator or dorm mistress can cause havoc for you should they start digging. That’s my main advice…what I tell any Lost Girl…don’t fucking stand out, okay?” Regina nodded. “Yeah, don’t sweat it too much…we all fuck up…but it will get easier with practice.”

“Is there anything else you’d recommend…for fitting in, I guess?”

“Fuck someone before the end of the month…there is no quota for that, but honestly I’m really surprised some guy hasn’t at least asked you for a quick handy yet. You’re a hottie.” She smiled. “People will notice if you aren’t being pursued. And…I’ll email you a reading list of books history, culture…it’ll help. It won’t be perfect…but it’ll help. Most of all, practice being bored with it all, even if you come out of class to find a pile of students doing unspeakable things to each other in the hallway. You blush…you look shocked…you’re covering yourself even in a private room. That’s all odd. People are going to think you’re a closet asexual… and that’s about the only major prejudice these days. Asexual, asex, or alphabet…if you hear anyone talking about you with those words, they’re not being nice, worse yet, it means they’re paying attention to you and being crude about it. I have never heard of a bunch of men in black swooping in to cart one of us Lost Girls away, but I don’t *want* it to happen, regardless. People also joke about homosexuality, but no one cares, they just see it as a waste, unshared snacks or whatever. Bisexuality is considered the height of cosmopolitan behavior…though more people play at it, I think, than really live that way. Straight married couples are still the end result of most college years.”

“My roommate Kiera, she’s more or less offering much of the same advice. I have no clue if she thinks I’m crazy or what, but…”

“Well, if you don’t *need* me…” she smirked. “Look, I think I can do a little better than your roommate. I can offer a little bit of protection as a third year, particularly as a dorm mistress, think of me as your fairy godmother…fix things like minor screw ups, offer you a friendly ear to talk about the good old days when you could go out after dark wearing underwear… laugh if you want, but even now we’re coming up on half past seven…I suppose it’ll be a good reminder to have you walking back to your dorm in the poor girl’s party dress…that’s slang for just stockings and heels in case you’re wondering, but—.”

“I can probably make it back in time…”

“Unless someone stops you, wants a blow job, maybe bend you over against a tree in the quad since you have an exhibitionism bead…”

“I do?” Regina asked, then swore. “Fucking Kiera!”

“Some people get off on making you miss curfew. Then you’ll be a naked first year, recently fucked, and probably won’t make it back to your dorm before nine without looking like a glazed donut.”

“Are you serious?”

“Freshmeat, remember? I can’t say it *hasn’t* happened before. Listen, I’ll change,” she started unbuttoning her blouse, “and I’ll escort you to Even Stevens, okay?”

“But it’s not eight, and I’ll still be naked!” Regina snapped.

“The rules say you have to be out of uniform by eight, but earlier is fine as long as you don’t have class. Plenty of people go to the library or even dinner in their jammies, you apparently haven’t been paying that close attention. You may think it’s mean of me, but a short walk in the poor girl’s party dress will make you think ahead for next time…for example,” she reached out and took Regina’s bookbag, her blouse half undone, and peeked inside. “It’s what I thought…No spares.”

“Spare what?”

“Such insightful questions from you! Underwear, stockings…things that get…well…dirty. Not even any wipes…” She laughed finishing with her blouse. Her bra was barely there, about as big as a bikini made of sheer panels and thin straps. “You like?” She asked, showing it off. “Third year and above, only. It’s House Micelli… Fantastic material, better engineering. I could almost jog in this thing,” she grabbed her breasts, “and it’s as thin as tissue. It’s comfortable, breathes, provides decent support, and you technically don’t have to wash it more than once a month. Stain resistant, nothing sticks to it…A guy could fuck my tits, come, and I could just brush it off…of the bra, at least. Like I said, materials science here is *very* advanced.” She picked up Regina’s panties, making the girl blush. “I wouldn’t go back to these for a million dollars.” She took off her skirt. Regina was surprised to see she had curls of blonde bush under the panties. “Yes, the panties are the same as the bra.” She turned to set her skirt on the bed, revealing the panties were a thong.

“I was, um, actually looking at your, uhh, pubic hair.” Regina blushed, saying it aloud. Sandy took off her bra, then her panties, then turned back to Regina. She ran her hand down to her bush and brushed her fingers through the hair forming a triangle above her pussy. She was still waxed below, but it wasn’t trimmed like all the other girls she’d seen this far.

“Third year and up benefits, I guess. In the old world I almost always shaved…I was a gymnast until my late teens…those leotards revealed a lot…” She shrugged. “First and second years, you get the triangle or trim, third year and up, same styles, and you can let the curls grow out, *or* outright fully wax…they call that French Court style here, not Brazilian, FYI. Fore guys, the rules are bit a different, but I guess I came to appreciate a little fuzz.” She said, toughing herself again. She sat down in her bed and started peeling off her stockings. “I hope you’re noticing how *not* embarrassed I am about being naked? When I first got here, I was all about keeping a hand over my crotch, covering my breasts, cowering. I wasn’t the only one. You have to remember, *we* probably have more sexual experience from the old world than most students. We started having sex whenever we wanted, not just when it was legal at eighteen. Some *local* girls really aren’t fans of showing off their goods, but people notice…some of them get targeted. Word gets around that you’re shy, and people go out of their way to make you feel every bit of it.” Sandy seemed caught up in some memory, but shook it off. She went to her closet and grabbed what appeared to be a third year version of the ‘historical’ nightgown she hadn’t bothered to purchase. Pulling it on like a robe, the dark blue fabric flowed around her, sheer and revealing as any of the pajamas. She tied and cinched it at the side with a long satiny bow, the gown was slit on either side to tops of her thighs. She adjusted the long sleeves, blue third year piping at the cuffs, and tied a ribbon that wove through the bodice, the neckline, also lined in piping, sweeping down to a few inches above her navel.

“No offense, but you like a teenage boy’s fantasy sorceress.”

“You didn’t buy the first-year version, did you?” Regina shook her head. “Typical rookie mistake. Guys *hate* these. They’re a pain to get off, and near-impossible fuck in without getting *something* on the gown, the ribbon…spot charges left and right.” She grinned.

“Okay, so what’s the deal? I’ve been meaning to ask. Girls can get punished with laundry duty, but guys get a monetary fee for laundry service? And everybody here is wealthy…rich…so dry-cleaning fees seem pretty lame. Seems imbalanced, sexist, whatever…”

“It is, to be honest, but think of spot charges as points against your bragging rights as a guy…you graduate with less than fifty charges…which still adds up to about $1000, and you’re pretty slick with the ladies, know what you’re doing, don’t make unnecessary messes…can control yourself. Not to mention the girl has full power over whether she records a spot charge or not. *That’s* the point. In a world where a guy can take anyone, within reason, restraint is a valuable commodity. Guys like George Williams, they don’t give a fuck, because, well, fuck everyone else, *he’s* a Williams, right? So, sure, he might try to fuck you in one of these gowns, but most guys will just enjoy the show,” she gave a twirl, “and keep on walking.” She stepped into her heeled slippers and looked at Regina. “Come on, I’ll escort you over to Even Stevens and we’ll get you the first-year version of my robe. We can ask her if she added your gym stuff to your last order, too. You, um, may want to gather your things.”

“Oh, right…” Regina said.

“Put your clothes in your backpack, which you can wear, if you want, but stop covering yourself.” Sandy lightly slapped at Regina’s arm covering her breasts, and Regina let her arms fall to the side. “You look good, we all do, if you haven’t noticed, but, no offense, nothing extraordinary—that’s a good thing! Seriously, you’re hot but not *really* hot. The really hot ones, I don’t know how they get *any* actual education.”

—-

Shortly after eight, Regina and Sandy began what felt like the longest—to Regina, at least—walk of her life to the uniform shop across the quad. Regina slung her backpack over her shoulders, which emphasized her chest, but made her feel at least partly covered, even if it was only her back. The sun was mostly set, and she saw a handful of couples on lawns, the benches, leaning against trees, engaged in all sorts of activities. At least three couples were outright fucking, and she saw a few girls giving handjobs, a couple of blowjobs. Most of it was generally discreet. Yes, it was clear what the couple were doing, but there wasn’t a lot of bare flesh beyond what she could see through people’s’ pajamas or open robes.

“And this sort of thing happens every night?” Regina asked, glancing at a guy, that time visibly naked on top of a girl—boarding position, she told herself—while she was on his spread-out robe, her babydoll nightie pushed up above her breasts.

“We’re still all college students. Even in our old world, there were probably this many college students fucking a night, right?” She nodded to the people. “Plenty of the people out here are looking for a fuck. If you’re not, working in pairs or groups can help.”. Sandy paused pretending to check her phone but watched as the guy started coming right onto the girl’s belly. They started walking again. “Even though birth control is active in both men and women… Most guys still have a bit of a fascination with their come. They love coming on you, not necessarily *in* you. They love getting it on your clothes, especially your weekend stuff they don’t have to pay to clean. Shit, that reminds me, you need to go see the school nurse and get your first-year update shots. If you’re anything like me, you probably aren’t fully inoculated, and your birth control might fail.”

“I’m not on birth control.”

“Oh, fuck me!” She said, stopping in her tracks. “Are you actually mentally deficient? What the fuck do you think would happen if you had sex with someone?”

“Kiera, my roommate, said everyone gets birth control from when they start puberty—guys and girls.”

“Ignoring the issue of the standard STD vaccines, you’ve only been in this universe for a few days, *not* since puberty.”

“Oh, shit…I’m such an idiot!” Regina said.

“Fuck yes, you are. And, honestly, how do we know there aren’t any lost *boys* running around here? We don’t. Hell, they’d be so thrilled to fuck everyone they wanted to, that shots would be the last thing on their minds. We’re going to the nurse right now. Your shopping can wait. We’ll tell her you think you were spotting. She’ll give you the first-year booster dose just to be safe.” They changed course. “Ugh, you’re so lucky I remembered to mention that, and that you’re not already fucking pregnant, or have this universe’s version of the clap or whatever…”

The college’s medical center was small but very mixed looking. There was no one else in the waiting room, and the receptionist told them they were fortunate you arrive when they did, that that nurse had been planning to close as little early. Regina shuffles in her chair, her bare ass cold on the plastic. She felt embarrassed, but both Sandy and the receptionist took her lack of clothes for granted.

“Nurse Brommer will see you now.” Regina was a little surprised to have Sandy follow her into the exam room. Maybe she didn’t trust her not to say something stupid.”

The nurse was probably a few years younger than her mother, leaving her in her thirties, if nothing else. She wore a nurse’s uniform that looked like something out of an old movie, little white hat, stockings, and all. She tapped at her tablet and set it down, using some hand sanitizer before pointing Regina to the exam table. She climbed up and sat down, the paper crinkling under her butt.
“So, dorm mistress Sands, what’s the issue with Miss Regina?”

“I was talking to her about her first week at Willoughby, and she mentioned, offhand, that she’d had some spotting. Based upon what she was telling me about her old high school, I’m also a little concerned about her vaccination history.” The nurse picked up the tablet again and typed a few things.

“Her records look good to me, but, well, she would know, I suppose.” Regina thought the woman’s training was sound, but then, she hadn’t actually asked her anything. “Okay, Regina, kick those shoes off and lay back on the table. Regina did as she asked. A blue light bar clicked on just above her head and stayed slowly scrolling down her body. Eventually, it stopped below her feet and shut off. “Scans are mostly clear. There are a few precancerous nodules in the liver,” Regina shuddered, “but I have a pill for that,” she patted Regina’s knee. “If you’ll spread your legs, Regina, I’ll do a quick gynecological exam. When was your last one?” Regina told her that it was the prior year. She watched as the nurse pulled on some gloves and took what looked to be basic vibrator and lubed it up.

“What is that?” Regina asked, alarmed.

“I thought you said to had an exam last year? Surely they used an internal scanner?”

“Um, I guess my doctor has an older model…?” She replied weakly.

“Wow, you can afford to go to an actual doctor, not just a nurse, but they don’t have a modern set of scanners?” The nurse shook her head. She pressed something on the device and it started buzzing. “A little pressure. The nurse eased the scanner inside Regina, and she hissed. Her thoughts were bouncing from Dominique’s shower sex demo with lube to Sandy’s order to use her vibrator regularly. This was not what she wanted to associate with any of that, but it felt like a vibrator, and then the nurse started sliding it in and out. “Does everything fell okay?” She asked

“Umm…I…uhh…” It actually felt *really* good, but Regina didn’t know what to say.

“I need you to answer if your sexual response is optimal—would you orgasm if I kept doing this?” The nurse asked, continuing to fuck her with htre probe.

“Uh…yes!” Regina stammered, blushing. “Yes, I would.”

“Okay,” the nurse said, removing the scanner, she handed Regina a few wipes. “Clean yourself up, sit up, and we’ll discuss the results.” Regina did as she asked, handing the used wipes to the gloved nurse. She disposed of everything and peeled off the gloves, tossing the in the trash before picking up her tablet and reading for a few minutes.

“So, um, what?” Sandy said.

“Very *odd*, that’s what. According to the blood and tissue samples the scanner took, Miss Regina is likely due for her period in about a week, no trace of cycle inhibitor—no birth control, either.” She looked at Regina, explaining. “But, on top of that, I’m seeing nothing indicating the presence of the standard antivirals, and several other vaccines. Have you had any radiation exposure in the last year, gene therapy, major transplants? Never mind…I don’t really need to know. You girls go to these third world countries and get radical cosmetic therapies, and you leave those of us in the first world to clean up the mess. What was it, a gen-edit boob job in the Caribbean? Those look a little *too* perfect to be natural. Excellent work, regardless, since I saw no trace of it on the scans.” Sandy glared at Regina, willing her not to speak. The nurse took out a fancy looking hypodermic needle and typed a few more things in her tablet. “While the hypo system formulates your shot, I’ll give you the counter-cancer pill. If you feel nauseated later, it’s likely the pill. If you feel dizzy and start peeing a little blood, that may be an allergic reaction. Go see your dorm mistress if that happens. Here we go.” The needle was blinking, and the nurse jabbed Regina in the shoulder without warning. It stung for brief instant, but the pain faded quickly.

“Is that it?” Regina asked.

“The birth control won’t be effective for at least 12 hours, so no intercourse until tomorrow night. I’ll put a medical indicator in your announcement system. The vaccine cocktail pretty much works within 24 hours, but herd immunity likely has you covered until then. Your shoulder will feel sore later. The pain killer only works for about four hours. Come back tomorrow is there’s obvious swelling.” She tried a couple more things on her tablet and shut it off. “We’re fine here, ladies, but word of advice? Next time you go to Colombia or Thailand, or whatever to genetically enhance your boobs or make your labia symmetrical, make sure you get a fresh dose of preventatives right away. You’re lucky you didn’t get pregnant or some weird disease.” She turned to Sandy. “And you…good catch. You saved this first year a lot of trouble later on. Now, both of you get out of here. I want to go home and fuck my husband. He’s been having me send him dirty pictures all day, and I’m so wet I probably ruined my panties.” Regina blushed deeply, and Sandy suppressed a laugh. “Giggle all you want. girls, but marriage isn’t the *end* of playful sex. He’ll bend me over in my uniform before I even get through the front door.” They left the nurse’s office, stepping outside, and Sandy started laughing uncontrollably.

“Why are you laughing?” Regina glanced around, seeing some people walking by. “People are staring,” she hissed, “and I’m still *naked*!” Sandy slowed her laughter, taking Regina by her arm even as she tried to cover her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Sandy said, still laughing a bit, “it just sometimes gets to me…I have to walk your naked ass to the nurse to get shots so that everyone else on campus can fuck you with impunity, and then,” she starts laughing again, “as we’re about to leave, the nurse goes off about how she’s been sexting her husband all day and she wants to go fuck him…tells *us*…the *students*…I mean, seriously…this place is so fucked up.” A naked guy, in just his shoes and socks and carrying a bundle of his clothes, was staring at them as he approached.

“Keep your voice down!” Regina pleaded. As the guy approached, Sandy spoke.

“Forgot it was past eight, huh?” She asked the guy.

“Uh, yeah,” he said.

“You first years…honestly.” Sandy laughed. “You’d almost be better off not getting dressed in the morning. The guy was appraising both of them, and Regina saw that he was getting hard. “Uh uh uh,” Sandy chided, tapping the tip of his cock, which only made him harder, “keep walking. I’m taking this one,” she took Regina by the arm again, “to the uniform store and then back to her dorm. She’s temporarily off limits…for medical reasons.” She added.

“Just her, though…” The guy said, looking hopefully at Sandy.

“First years,” Sandy sighed again, rolling her eyes. “I’m a dorm mistress, *third* year, she pointed to the piping on her gown…”

“Oh, um, shit, um…sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” He said.

“I figured…” Sandy said, grabbing one her breasts through her gown, “there’s a lot to be distracted by.” He nodded and kept walking, erection bobbing with each step. Regina looked at Sandy questioningly. “You know nothing…honestly. Read your fucking manual. Spot fees for fucking upperclassmen are really expensive, and basically count as multiple black marks.” She looked over her shoulder at the retreating guy. “You don’t fuck out of your league.”

**End Part 5**

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/a5jnsg/far_away_at_willoughby_academy_part_5

2 comments

  1. Loving this setting and excellent writing! Looking forward to more. Found myself curious about lost *boys* myself, so glad to see the possibility mentioned. Poor girls and lucky lads.

Comments are closed.