School Daze Forever Ch. 03

Her hand left my back and fished into her pants pocket. She retrieved a tiny item, then reached around to the back of my neck. I heard the click. My collar came off, and Mistress Vivienne seemed content to let it fall to the ground. It struck the soft tile with a dull but portentous thud. The room's temperate air felt extra cool and dry when it struck my newly-naked flesh.

I made to pull reluctantly away from Mistress Vivienne, but she stopped me with her strong arms. "It's okay," she said. "We can stay like this for just one more moment, before the next order. Just one more."

"Yes, Mistress," I whispered. "Thank you, Mistress."

"Such a good girl," she said. "Such a good, sweet, beautiful girl. And you know what? Let me give you a little spoiler: even though you're not under my direct control anymore, we're still not quite done having fun yet."

My next shudder of pleasure was tinged with arousal. My asshole twitched around my plug. I smiled into Mistress Vivienne's bosom, breathing deeply, taking in as much of her smell as I could. I already knew I'd never forget her; I just wanted as many memories as possible, as vivid as I could make them.

"Mistresses," the voice said, "you can feel free to take your seats, or to mingle. First-years, please step forward and form a line, six steps in front of your pillows, facing the stage."

Mistress Vivienne released me suddenly, and I moved to obey. Since I hadn't been commanded to not look around, I turned my head to my left, and saw that Lily was back with us. She was standing in her assigned position, just ten feet or so away from me. She noticed me looking, and looked back. Our eyes connected again, and I felt that same, special thrill. She had the kind of eyes, eyelids, and cheekbones that made it look like she was always either happy or sad -- smiling or crying, regardless of what the rest of her face was doing. She was definitely smiling then, even before her full, pink, glossy lips joined in the fun. I smiled back. The thrill repeated and redoubled.

"Some of you might have taken to your collars, leashes, and even cuffs," the voice said, "and we know you all love your plugs. Rest assured that we would never deny our students the feeling of being owned, controlled, and taken care of. Hold your positions while the lights adjust to our proprietary wavelengths. I'd tell you not to be alarmed by what you're about to see, but, well... you'll see." The voice sounded amused by its little joke. That reminded me of Mistress Vivienne, which made me a little happy and a little sad again.

Just as the voice had warned, the room's lights began to change. I felt, more than heard, some kind of a hum, and felt it change ever-so-slightly over the course of the next few seconds. Soon, the room was darker. Much like I more felt than heard the hum, I more felt than saw a kind of purple.

I also felt warmth and tingling on my skin. Then I felt a whole host of familiar emotions; what was novel was their source. They weren't coming from a Mistress' presence or voice, as they had for the prior few months. They were being transmitted by that light -- directly from the college, to me -- and my skin had taken over as the primary receiver. I felt safe, secure, and loved. I felt owned. I felt collared and leashed again -- even bound by cuffs that I'd never actually worn. My very heart and soul were plugged and under control, just as tantalizingly and reassuringly as my ass was.

Mistress Vivienne's words from the day prior echoed in my mind: "Cumming is always better when you're under control, Jenny. It's always better when your Mistresses or Masters are controlling your ass." I made the connection, and it made me feel smart -- smart, and horny. I was under the college's control. All of me was. It was going to make everything better.

"Take a look at yourselves, first-years," the voice suggested, rather than commanded. "Then take a look at each other."

I looked down at myself; my skin was an odd shade under the lights, but I paid that little mind. It was what was on my skin -- all over it -- that immediately captured my attention. Bright, almost glowing lines traced up my arms and towards my core. Something quite like a barcode was on both of my wrists, and, where the intricate parts ended, the tattoos became thick and solid, looping all the way around like cuffs. I turned my arms around and saw twin symbols on the backs of both hands, where you'd get stamped at a club. I didn't know what they were or meant, but they looked quite pretty.

The lines were everywhere; they were tracing blood vessels or nerves, or possibly both, or were insisting upon an entirely new bodily system. River deltas, glowing like photographed lightning, split off from main branches in places, sometimes terminating, sometimes reconnecting. I gradually became hyperaware of everywhere a tattoo was on my body; I was starting to feel them, even in places I couldn't see -- like the back of my neck, for example, and all down my spine, and a much wider one near my ass. I looked down and saw another large symbol on my chest, fully incorporating my titties and nipples into it. Below that, my pussy and my clit hood were drafted into yet another work of art that I couldn't fully identify, but knew included text of some kind. I focused on it and tried to read it, though it was at a poor angle and almost upside down. I felt a jolt of surprise when I realized I could do so quite easily, and then a much hornier jolt when I registered it what it read:

'Property of R&R University for Girls.'

In an instant, I knew the tattoo I was feeling just above my ass said the same thing. I just knew it, and I loved it. Next, I knew I needed to see Lily's.

I made the quarter turn to look at her; she was already ogling me. Seeing the full picture on another body was awe-inspiring; it was a map of submission, obedience, and pleasure, decorated with true art that only enhanced its wondrous function. I saw those same words above her hidden-tulip pussy, and they made me even hornier than the same ones on my body. I looked up, past her pretty titties, and took in her neck. She saw me do it, and lifted her chin to give me a better view. I lifted mine. She was collared -- tattoo-collared. We were all collared, all the time. That thought focused my attention on my neck, and, as if by magic, I felt that I was actually wearing one again. All of those thoughts and feelings started bouncing around in my head, and then down to all of my fun places. There was no hint of green light in the room, but I was getting horny; I was getting aroused because I was bound and marked.

Then I surprised myself again with the excellent eyesight that I still hadn't fully internalized as a part of the new, better me. I easily made out the small, glowing letters that were a part of the otherwise-solid band around Lily's neck. I saw her name; several numbers whose significance escaped me; the university's address, which included what I assumed was a building name and a room number; and then back to solid to loop around to her nape.

Lily's face was where the map-of-nerves conceit gave way almost fully to art. Her lips, cheeks, nose and forehead all played their parts in the giant tattoo, but tremendous care had been taken to create a flowing pastiche. Hers was floral, and I smiled when I realized why.

Our eyes locked again. "Lilies," I told her happily, pointing to her face.

She was overjoyed, but recovered quickly, eager to reciprocate. "Moons, stars, and constellation maps," she said. "They're so beautiful, Jenny. You're so beautiful."

"You are, too!"

She did a half turn and struck a pose for me, smartly pushing her long ponytail over one shoulder. Her back was as beautiful as her front. The collar tattoo became another bar code at her nape. Her spine was a strip of flowers blooming on ivy, interspersed with more foreign symbols, and the offshoots began as tendrils before shrinking down to rivulets. I was delighted to discover I'd been right about the tattoo just above her ass. It, too, explicitly marked her as property of the college. All around the words, and below them, was the map again, all the way down to her ankles, where I caught sight of two more detailed cuff tattoos that sent the final bolts and streams down into her feet.

When she turned back around, I gave her my naked backside, pushing my shorter blonde locks to the front so she could have the full view. Knowing her eyes were on me sent pulses ping-ponging between every single fun place I had, including my brain and my heart.

After about half a minute, I turned to face her again. I wanted to rush over to her, but I wasn't sure if it was allowed. The order to hold still had been qualified. I focused on the milk inside of me; it told me to stay where I was. I pouted a little, but heeded its advice.

"Not long, now, Jenny," Mistress Vivienne called out from her chair. The sound surprised me; I'd completely forgotten about her.

"Okay, girls," the disembodied voice said, "please face forward and close your eyes."

With one parting glance at Lily -- a whole conversation in an instant, full of wants and promises -- I obeyed.

The voice's tenor changed again. Its tone was very much like Mistress Vivienne's, except even smoother and gentler. It was almost hypnotic. I soon figured out that that was rather the point. "The college owns you," it said. "The college loves you. The college is always watching you. Even when you're completely naked, you are bound and marked. Even when you're not wearing a collar, a leash, cuffs, a plug, or anything else, you are under control. All of your holes are -- always. You are safe. You are secure. Feel that, now. Be aware of it. Remember the light. Picture it in your mind. Picture your tattoos, glowing underneath it. Feel safe. Feel secure. Feel loved. Feel owned. Feel controlled."

I don't know if the voice got quieter as it devolved into a simple mantra, but I do know that subtle music began playing underneath it. Soon, the two were weaving together in my ears and in my mind. I was still very horny, but that arousal was mixing together with all of those other good feelings, freeing me from the danger of distraction. All of those feelings, together as one, were connecting to the hypnotic voice, to the warmth and tingling on my skin, and to the tattoos I was visualizing in my mind. Those links were strengthening; I could feel it happening. I knew I was learning something very important. I thought back to Mistress Vivienne's advice about visualizing the green and blue lights. I knew I was learning how to do that; if I could do it with one color, I could do it with any color.

The mantra ended; the music continued. "On your knees," the voice said after a brief pause. Every part of me wanted to obey, including the warm, delicious milk inside me and the tattoos all over my skin. I did without hesitation. It felt almost automatic, but just willful enough so that I received my small emotional reward. It felt like the tattoos were teasing me, letting me know that they could team up with the milk and truly take control of my body whenever they wanted to. That didn't scare me at all -- quite the opposite, in fact. It meant I was never truly on my own. If my own intelligence, experience, or courage failed, the college would be right there to act on my behalf.

"Forehead to the floor, arms in an 'el' on either side; palms flat on the floor, too."

Again, I obeyed. Again, I received my small reward. It wasn't as strong as a "Good job!" or a "Good girl!" but it was consistent and reliable. It was a little angel on my shoulder that I never wanted to disappoint or send away. Its hands, feet, and mouth were all small, but they gave the best encouragement, both verbal and physical. I was quite sure I had two more just like it: the angel of service, and the angel of giving pleasure to Masters and Mistresses.

"Slide your knees apart. Arch your back. Present for your audience. Show them you're owned."

That time, the reward for obedience was joined by mounting arousal. I knew four Mistresses were watching and all sorts of cameras were recording. I found myself in a strange, happy, contradictory state. I loved the idea that I was being completely exposed to countless people across time and space, and especially to scores of Mistresses and fellow college girls. At the same time, though, I felt no sense that I was faking anything, nor any obligation to put on an act. That was silly, because of course I was performing, but I didn't feel like I was. I felt like I was giving my audience something incredibly special and intimate: my true self. That generosity was fueling my spirit, to say nothing of the fresh kindling it was piling upon the growing fires in my fun places. I was giving a gift, but not losing anything.

My sense of time slipped away. I was in a special kind of trance -- one that emphasized mindfulness and self-awareness. I didn't feel like a dumb, brainwashed zombie. I felt clear, as though I had ascended to a higher plane of consciousness -- but one of the fun ones that still recognized the beauty of physical and sexual pleasure. The voice kept giving commands, guiding us through a sexy, submissive yoga routine. By the end of it, all of my muscles felt warm, stretched, and happy.

"Good job, girls," the voice intoned. Those two magic words capped all of my prior rewards, like a cherry on top of a sundae. "The lights will dim now. Your marks will become invisible again. That doesn't matter anymore, though, does it? You'll always know they're there. You'll always be able to feel them if you want, unless one of your Mistresses or Masters tells you to forget for a while. You'll always know you're under control. Won't that be nice? Cumming is always better when you're under control, so now it will always be better, won't it?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said, and I heard the clear, trance-like serenity in my own voice. I also sensed three other voices saying the words along with me. That made me feel a new and special kind of happiness inside -- to say nothing of the arousal the voice's promises and reassurances had further stoked.

"You can open your eyes, now," the voice said. "Congratulations! The next phase of your orientation is complete! Just one more lesson before you get to see your new dorm rooms. Please listen to the Mistresses and accept their guidance. They're still employees of the university, remember. Submit and obey."

"Yes, Mistress," we all said again, and I heard the trance dissipating from our voices. I opened my eyes; the room's lights were back to normal. Instinctively, I tried to remember the tattoos, the warmth, the tingles, and the emotions they'd engendered.

I succeeded, and I'd never felt prouder of myself.

"Okay, Jenny," Mistress Vivienne said. I startled a bit; she was right behind me. "You can move around again."

"Thank you, Mistress." I turned around to face her.

She was back to her usual confident self, and her strap-on cock was back in her tailored pants. She gave me a smile and entered her teacher mode, which I found comforting and familiar. "Now it's time to learn the normal greeting between college girls," she said. "I should warn you that extenuating circumstances do abound, just like they did during our trip into town. Still, when you meet a new college girl for the first time, you should strive to greet them. It's nice and polite, and it's quite the icebreaker. After that, well, college girls love each other, so I have no doubt you'll find your way, even amidst all those other rules and exceptions.

"Okay," she continued, "let's try it with Lily. Let's pretend it's your very first time having the opportunity to greet each other properly, and that you don't know each other's names or details yet. That's good practice."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Very good, dear, but for the duration of the lesson, you needn't respond. Focus on obeying, and on Lily."

I turned towards Lily. Mistress Jane, dressed again, was at her side. She looked towards my Mistress; they exchanged a silent conversation. I think they were deciding who was going to continue the lesson.

"So, you see each other," Mistress Vivienne said. "You make eye contact. Maybe you take in the sight of them, because they are so beautiful, after all."

Lily and I locked eyes, and that same electricity flowed between us; it hadn't lessened at all. Then I took the opportunity to drink her in again, and I knew she was doing the same to me. It felt great to be watched so intently by someone I lusted after so much.

I loved everything about Lily, but especially her titties and her pussy. Her small breasts were high on her tiny chest, a little bit conical, and college-girl perky; that was like calling them 'impossibly perky,' but I already knew the college would be constantly challenging my sense of what was possible in the funnest ways. Her small areolas and protruding nipples were cotton-candy pink, and I knew they'd taste even better than that sweet treat. Her pussy, meanwhile, was little more than a dark fault line between two smooth, snow-covered hills; the hint of pink was down to the fact that she'd be thoroughly fucked so recently by Mistress Jane's strap-on -- the same reason for the sheen upon her lips.

"So now you approach each other," Mistress Vivienne said. "Make sure you're sensitive to how they're feeling. Reading body language and facial cues is very important, and it's a skill you'll be working hard to master... well, okay, it looks to me like these two particular college girls cannot wait to say hello to each other. Go ahead and move in close, Jenny and Lily."

We tried our best not to run towards each other; still, we closed the remaining distance quickly. I smelled her for the first time -- or, rather, the smell of sex upon her. We'd both been fucked. I breathed in deeply through my nose; desire rushed through me. I wanted to do everything to her.

"Now," Mistress Vivienne said, her own voice getting a little thick, "this next part gets a little tricky. One of you needs to decide which hand performs which part of the greeting. The other girl mirrors that. Lily, go ahead and reach out towards Jenny's pussy with whatever hand feels most natural. Palm up, between the legs, gently cup. Jenny, make sure she can get in there, though that's not such an issue with you two fit little cuties. Okay, it's her right hand, so do the same with yours. Move even closer, now, if you need to. Don't strain to reach."

The two of us got in close; electricity was joined by heat and vibration. Our auras and energies were overlapping, playfully negotiating a union while our bodies ached to rush ahead and do the same. The feeling of Lily's soft, delicate hand cupping my throbbing pussy was exquisite torture. I hoped she felt the same way about mine; I wanted her to want me that badly.

"There you go," Mistress Vivienne said. "So, what does the other hand do? Well, there are options. Reaching around and teasing the small of the back is nice. Stroking the ass is fun, too. If you want to grab or massage, play close attention to those cues I talked about. Some girls love it right away, while others prefer to be eased into it. Personally, I prefer lightly petting a breast, and teasing the nipple with the pad of my thumb. Which of those sounds good to you, Jenny? No need to say it; just do it. Lily needs to learn to mirror your action."

Lily and I moved even closer together so that our right arms wouldn't get in the way. I reached up with my left hand and found her right breast. I teased the underside with my fingertips; it was so soft. It was like somebody had shaved velvet, only to discover that velvet's bare skin was even softer than the fine fur everyone assumed was the thing itself. Then they'd moisturized it with some special blend from that clinic I'd spent so much time at over the summer, elevating it from a triumph of craft to a triumph of science. I wanted us to fuse together. I wanted to feel her skin on mine everywhere, forever.