School Daze Forever Ch. 02

I thought about it for a few moments. "I think so, Mistress," I said. "When there's no blue light... I think I feel more than just that. I think I like it. I'll try to do what you said. I'm not sure I know how to."

She reached up and caressed my face. I sighed happily. "Just do your best, Jenny," she said. "Think of this as your first acting class.

"Follow a few steps behind," she instructed, "and closer to the buildings than the street when we're on a main road. You're in my care, and we don't want everybody and their sister giving you full greetings today. If anything needs to change, I'll let you know."

She turned and walked towards the door; I followed obediently behind. The morning sun burst into the room; my eyes squeezed shut on instinct, and I blinked a bunch of times as we kept moving. The heat wasn't so bad so early. It was still pleasant upon my fair skin, even when I was fully exposed. My shoes were awesome; I felt like I was walking on cushions. It was just another little thing that reassured me that I was under the control of people who knew what was best for me, and were always going to take care of me.

It was another minute or two of walking before I could fully take in the sight of the college town. Once my eyes fully adjusted, my lips parted; hazy memories tickled my brain, but I might as well have been seeing everything for the first time. It was so beautiful. It was like something out of a movie, or even a theme park.

Quaint little buildings sat on cute little streets, interrupted from time to time by a structure that looked almost futuristic. Bricks and cobblestones spoke of pedigree, but all were in perfect repair. Sleek chrome and polished marble invited thoughts of fancy gadgets or even super science. That was a collegiate combination -- ancient wisdom and new ways to spread it. Everything was just so clean; there were no divots, potholes, or cracks on anything, anywhere. There were rows of flowers, and occasional trees. The sky above us was blue, with just a couple of wispy clouds drifting on by. The air that filled my lungs was rich, with that last hint of dawn's crispness lingering before the sunlight evaporated all the dew.

The people, of course, I noticed, too. What I didn't notice was them paying all that much extra attention to us -- to me. It didn't take me long to understand why. As Mistress Vivienne casually led me to our next destination, it became clear that we were not all that unusual a sight in that particular college town.

Across the street from us, a Mistress straight out of a naughty movie's dungeon led a chain-leashed girl behind her who was wearing a shiny, black, full-body latex suit. Only her naughty bits were left uncovered, and her painted lips, mocha skin, and chocolate nipples stood out from the darkness in a stark, lewd contrast. Her arms were completely bound behind her, joined together by what looked like a large, single glove that almost completely covered them. Her feet were trapped in the strangest high heels I'd ever seen; I finally made the connection that they looked more like hooves than shoes. A high, black ponytail and a jutting pony's tail bounced in tandem. My head turned, fixated, as we kept walking down our side of the street in the opposite direction. Before I had to turn my head back again for fear of straining my neck, I made out a bright red ball gag lodged in the slave girl's exposed mouth. I don't know if her Mistress saw us, but the girl herself surely did not.

Coming down our own street, meanwhile, were two giggling girls, bleached blonde, suntanned, and wearing nearly-identical, skimpy string bikinis whose tops -- or bottoms, I supposed -- looked like they'd been switched. The first girl -- a bit taller and skinnier, and with electric blue eyes -- sported the blinding-white bottom and the cobalt top. Her near-twin, with eyes that were somehow both gray and crystalline, had the colors switched. Each wore a slim, elegant collar that matched their respective barely-there bottom, and their tags were both beautiful, pearlescent seashells. Beyond that, they only wore light summer sandals, and each carried a fluffy beach towel over the arm farthest from their partner.

The two of them were supermodels-turned-athletes who hadn't had to sacrifice an ounce of femininity for their strength and skill. They could've played Olympic competitors on TV. Nobody would've minded the slight lack of realism. I certainly wouldn't have. They also looked like they'd been engineered in a lab to be best friends -- and maybe even more than that, given their constantly bumping hips and thighs, plus the mischievous, wandering hand apiece.

Their smiles and giggles were infectious; my own eyes lit up as they approached. They finally emerged from their eternal private jokes long enough to truly notice us; for a moment, it was like nothing unusual was happening at all -- well, nothing except for the fact that they were clearly slowing down. So was my Mistress.

"Good morning, Mistress," they both said to Mistress Vivienne in a staggered sequence. All four of us had basically come to a stop on the street.

"Good morning, girls," she replied. "This is Jenny. She's terribly horny right now and not allowed to cum until orientation, so I'm giving permission to dispense with the normal greeting. Have some sympathy."

"Oh, of course, Mistress!" the one wearing the cobalt collar said. Then she turned her focus towards me and gave me a big wave. "Aloha, Jenny! I'm Bailey."

"I'm Courtney!" the other said on cue.

"We're both year-threes at the college," Bailey continued. "It's so wonderful to meet you! You're going to love it here!"

I tried to wave back in the same way. "Aloha, Bailey, Courtney," I said. "It's very nice to meet you, too. I think you're right. I am going to love it here."

Both girls giggled. Mistress Vivienne even chuckled a little. "We're on a schedule, girls," she said, "but, excellent planner that I am, I did account for a few run-ins here in town. Why don't you give Jenny the quick rundown of your majors and whatnot?"

"Outdoor Athletic Sciences wooooo!" Courtney whooped. It startled me a little, and both girls giggled again.

"Swimming and surfing, especially," Bailey added, "but we do a little bit of everything. Lots of travel. Lots of outdoor sex. Oh, man, the 'sexy lifeguard' fantasies are hilarious, too. There was this one in a bathtub..."

"But we are actually fully certified lifeguards," Courtney interjected seriously. "EMT, too. We can sports you 'til you almost die, sex you 'til you almost die, and then make sure you don't actually die. We put old Masters in the hospital and they thank us for it." They both thought that was funny, but it didn't sound like they were exaggerating for effect.

"And you're roommates this year?" Mistress Vivienne asked.

"Oh yeah... I mean, yes, Mistress," Bailey said. Without any prompting, she stepped across Courtney, squared herself with Mistress Vivienne, then did a half turn and leaned forward a bit, jutting out her butt.

"Hmmm," Mistress Vivienne said. "Plug check."

"Yes, Mistress," Bailey said. She hooked her fingers into her string bikini bottoms, lowered them past her well-built cheeks -- both perfectly tanned -- and then spread her legs and arched her back. A plug base came into full view: matching cobalt blue with white writing. I could make out the small text quite clearly; it was the same as what was engraved on mine. My fun bits tingled and throbbed.

Mistress reached out and stroked the plug base, then gave it three sharp taps. She followed that up with one more tap to Bailey's right cheek. "Plug looks good," she said. "All better."

"Thank you, Mistress," Bailey said. I could hear the hint of relief underneath her reemergent gaiety. She readjusted her blue bottoms, turned back around, and fused together again with Courtney, switching orientations from how they'd originally been. The two of them immediately swapped the shoulders their towels were on, leaving their inner hands free to wander. When they glanced at each other, my eyes focused on every telltale sign: flashing, hooded eyes, bitten or chewed lips, dilated pupils, and, of course, those hands, each already creeping towards the other's butt. They were horny for each other; it was like I had a super-sense for it. I could also feel my own horniness starting to resonate with theirs.

"Okay, girls," Mistress Vivienne said dryly. "Thank you very much for pausing to chat with us. I need breakfast before the big event, so ta-ta for now."

"Aloha, Mistress!" Courtney said with a big wave. "Aloha, Jenny!"

Bailey was more hesitant. "Maybe just a hug and a kiss, Mistress?" she asked, suddenly timid.

Mistress turned back towards me. With the sunglasses on, it was tough to know what she was thinking. Her mouth twitched. "Oh, okay, you two," she said. "Quickly. No extra funny business, and I mean it. My poor girl is suffering."

Bailey jumped at the chance. She closed the distance with me instantly, then gave me a moment to adjust to her sudden presence. Her final engagement was much slower and calmer. Her free hand guided our bodies together; her breasts, just about the same size as mine, were about an inch higher up. She did her best to prevent them from brushing against each other too much, and also avoided touching my butt. I was disappointed and grateful at the same time.

"Hey," she whispered, searching my eyes. "You're beautiful. I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

I nodded. Mistress had given them both permission, so I knew I had to comply. The only reason I was anxious about it was because I knew it was going to make me even hornier. I was starting to feel hot, and not from the morning sun.

Bailey, it seemed, had the same super-sense I did. Her eyes and face suddenly radiated sympathy. "I know," she said. "Not much longer. I just had to. You're so hot, and... college girls love each other."

Upon hearing those words, the milk inside of me -- the milk that was a part of me -- flowed, swirled, and pulsed happily. I wanted Bailey to kiss me. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted so much more than that, too, but I knew I had to be a good little girl for Mistress Vivienne.

She leaned forward and down so that her pink, sun-kissed lips could meet my slightly fuller ones. The simple hug and light kiss felt like coming home. I felt like we were already halfway to being friends, lovers, and even sisters. I wanted to make each new facet of that beautiful relationship official, all at once, right away. I wanted, somehow, for her milk to flow into me, and mine to flow into her, until we were one happy, horny, soon-to-be-satisfied entity that just happened to live in two bodies at once.

Mistress Vivienne gave a small warning grunt. Bailey backed off, but her fingertips lingered on my naked skin as long as they could. When Courtney moved in to take her place, I took the lead. I stepped in, wrapped my arms lightly around her waist, and leaned in so that my wet, tingly, almost-throbbing lips would meet hers halfway. My efforts didn't faze her; they made her happy.

"You're so pretty," I whispered. "Bailey, too. Please tell her."

"Every day and night," she said confidently. "And, right back atcha." We hugged and kissed, and all the good feelings surged again -- including the horniness. I had no regrets. I knew that might change later.

Courtney backed off quickly, and then the pair of roommates-slash-lovers-slash-sisters were away, off to some beach or poolside adventure. I was tempted to look back at their barely-clad butts, but a quick tug from Mistress Vivienne refocused me.

"Never enough time in the day," she said with a sigh. She picked up the pace, which meant so did I. Her pumps struck the sheen-coated bricks dully; my slip-ons barely made a sound.

The streets weren't overly busy; I saw more girls, and even the occasional man -- a Master, I had to assume -- and their appearances ranged from normal to nearly-naked to naughty-movie. All the college girls wore collars with tags, but beyond that, there was simply no telling what the next one, two, or more might look like. The Mistresses and Masters were a grab bag, though I was beginning to notice one fairly reliable way to pick out the Mistresses who worked for the college: they were all gorgeous. The Mistresses I pegged as visitors all looked at least a little older, and even the most beautiful of them just couldn't compare. I made the connection in my mind, and it made me happy: if I was a good girl, I would stay beautiful for a very long time.

To be honest, those strange, once-bad feelings didn't flare up much, even though I felt like I was forever being observed; I even felt like Mistress Vivienne was watching me, despite walking ahead of me. As I caught sight of all the many, beautiful collared girls walking, crawling, sitting, or kneeling -- or even bent over and getting fucked by a Master or Mistress right out in public in one of many special vestibules that seemed built for that very purpose -- different feelings came to the forefront. I wanted to be friends with every single one of them. I wanted to love them, even, and felt certain that I would if I could only spend a little time with them. It was a new kind of yearning, and it added fuel to my achy fire. On top of all of that, I kept imagining what it would be like to be each one I saw -- wondering what their majors were and what kinds of jobs they might get after they graduated. I think that's what Mistress Vivienne wanted me to do. I just didn't know how she could be gauging my reactions, since she couldn't see me.

"Okay, finally!" Mistress Vivienne announced a few minutes later. We slowed as we approached a brick building, obviously labeled as a café. "Oh, look, Jenny! A puppy-girl! That's Clover, if I'm not mistaken -- which, when it comes to college girls, I never am. Advanced Veterinary Psychology -- fourth year. It's a very demanding major."

For the first time since we'd headed outside, I gasped. I felt Mistress Vivienne's attention on me like a laser, but it didn't distract me from the new object of my obsession.

Clover was just about the cutest thing ever. She was mostly naked, though technically more clothed than I was; she sported a thick, white collar with her name boldly embossed in gold, and a shiny green tag whose shape was squarely on the nose. Her chain leash led up to an embedded half ring on a firmly-installed pole replete with them. Her hands and feet were covered by thick mitts that looked like paws, and her knees were protected by fancy-looking braces that sported very thick padding. They were all white -- a striking contrast to her silky, chocolate skin. A long, slightly-poofy tail jutted out from between her butt cheeks, and I knew it was attached to an anal plug.

Her face was a marvel, too. A white splotch that perfectly matched her collar and mitts -- skin the color of pristine white fur, not regular 'white' flesh -- covered her whole left eye and extended irregularly down to her cheek, slightly up past her eyebrow, and just over her nose bridge. The patch of eyebrow hair within it was, likewise, snow white. Upon her head were two floppy doggy ears, sporting both colors like splatters of paint on canvas; only the rest of her body revealed that the canvas' color was brown. I had no idea how the ears were attached; if it was some sort of headband, I couldn't make it out.

When I focused on her nose, I didn't merely gasp; I almost jumped. It was slightly darker than her chocolate skin, and it was easily three quarters of the way towards being a genuine doggy nose. The nostrils were high, facing mostly forwards, and separated by a wide patch of that darker skin. I wanted to boop it so badly it hurt. It almost made me forget how horny I was.

Clover's deep brown eyes met mine, and her mouth opened. A gigantic tongue spilled forth. I was already slack-jawed and full of air, so I couldn't gasp again. When her tail started to wag, I wished I could gasp twice more in a row without making my lungs burst.

The puppy girl began to pant. She didn't bark, though; I supposed she was very well trained.

"Hang on, Jenny," Mistress Vivienne said. "Let me check something..." I heard her tapping on her phone. "... Okay, you have permission from her Mistress to say hello and give her a few pets, but then we're heading inside. I'm bloody well starving. Still ahead of schedule, though. I'm just that good."

I stepped forward and knelt down; if not for the distraction of a cute-as-anything puppy girl in front of me, I would've been shocked by how soft the ground was. That lacquer over the bricks turned out to be a modern scientific marvel. Clover was more important, though. She wasn't merely a puppy-girl; she was a college puppy-girl. I wanted her, I loved her, and I wanted to squeeze her and pet her and hug her to death.

I also wanted to have her lick me in fun places; the horniness was reasserting itself. I wanted to fuck her, too, like Mistress had fucked me the previous night. That actually surprised me. I'd never felt that way before. Then I wondered what it might be like if she were to wear a fake cock and fuck me.

"Hey, Clover!" I said in a high, breathy voice that came naturally. "My name's Jenny, and you are just the cutest! I love you so much!"

I reached out and offered her pets. She soaked them up happily, moving her head and body around to try to coax my hands to all her favorite places. Her faint, high whines of pleasure sent little jolts through me. My hands and fingers luxuriated in the sensations of smooth skin, furry ears, and a short mane of brown hair so soft that it was almost fur itself.

"Oh my goodness!" I said. "Oh my goodness! Such a good puppy! I love you! I love you!"

Mistress Vivienne let me play with Clover longer than she probably wanted me to. Eventually, though, a quick tug told me my time was up. Overwhelmed with affection -- given and received, I felt with certainty -- I leaned forward quickly and planted a kiss right on the cute puppy-girl's forehead, then brushed her dark, wet nose with mine. She licked me excitedly, chin to forehead. My face scrunched up, but I accepted the love. I'd been asking for it, after all.

Another sharp tug, and I was up and away. "Bye bye!" I said. "Love you!" One more tug, and I was squarely behind Mistress Vivienne.

"In we go, Jenny," she said, and led me inside the coffee shop. The light around me changed; the bright sunshine still filtered through the tall store windows, but the artificial lights inside were tinged blue. I sighed with anticipatory relief; actual relief gradually followed.

Mistress found a small table by the window, linked my leash to a ring, then took her seat. I stood, awaiting instructions. There were a few other people in the shop, and, while I knew they'd at least taken in the sight of me, it wasn't their eyes I felt. It was something else -- something hard to articulate.

A pale, Asian-looking serving girl walked over; I didn't know then, but later, I could have told you that she showed hints of Japanese heritage. She was collared; her tag was a porcelain coffee cup, and the deep brown leather above it bore the shop's name. She was shorter than me, and very slight. Whatever breasts she had were well concealed. Her ensemble was a funny blend of business and naughtiness; the gloves, thick apron, sensible shoes, and company hat over a hairnet stood in stark contrast to the black boy shorts and sports bra that were all she wore besides. She also had all sorts of piercings. I wasn't sure I wanted that for myself, but they did work with her look, which also included thick eyeliner, shadow, and lipstick -- all equally dark.

"How may I serve you today, Mistress?" she asked. Her voice was a friendly business-casual, which was an odd pairing with her goth flourishes.