"I wouldn't do that if I were you." I drop my hand and whirl around. Bethany leans against my door frame, her lips twitching. "One of the rules here is that all orgasms belong to The Society. You're not allowed to get yourself off unless they tell you. You always ask, but just know, sometimes they'll say no." She pushes off of the frame and walks closer. "How far have you made it down?"
“How did you get in here? I thought only the members and I have access.”
She shrugs and looks at her phone. “Since I’m helping you for tonight, I was granted temporary access. Kinda hard to help you if you refuse to open the door.”
That made sense. I didn’t like it, but it made sense.
"I have two more drawers to go."
Her eyes gleam. “The third is my favorite. Go check it out. I promise you won't be disappointed."
I bypass the middle draw and open it up. Vibrators of every type lay in the drawer. "You weren't kidding!"
"Now, just remember," she leans over to shut it before opening the middle drawer. "Make sure you always ask permission, or this drawer might be the one you get."
Other bits of leather implements lay in this drawer, but I can't tell what any of them are or what they do for the life of me. A shiver races down my spine. If they hurt half as much as the belt, then I should probably avoid them altogether. "Got it. Obey everything and don't do anything wrong."
She chuckles and heads over to the bathroom, motioning for me to join her. "Doesn't matter if you're good or not, they'll still probably use them on you. But that's a discussion for later. Right now, we need to get you ready for the initiation."
My insides twist again. The one thing I've been avoiding thinking about. This is what solidifies me in this role. Who am I kidding? The moment I was caught, I was trapped. Bethany flits around the bathroom, pulling out various things and laying them on the counter. I have to admit, the rooms are way nicer and much bigger than the actual dorms. And I don't have to share a bathroom. That's a huge bonus. After gathering everything, she turns to me, a grim smile on her face. "Have you ever waxed?"
I blanch. "Excuse me?"
"Like, you know." She motions to my crotch.
"I shave."
"Hmmm. Not good enough. Sorry. Here, lay down." She arranges the towels into a makeshift pallet. "Every person has a preference. It's always safe to be on the side of waxed. You will never get in trouble for being bare, but you could easily get into trouble for not being shaved. With Professor Richards, he prefers waxed with a landing strip."
"Let me guess, you've serviced him too?" I close my eyes for a moment, forcing myself to breathe.
Laughing, she opens the wax pot on the counter and stirs a moment. "Never had the pleasure. But after Chelsea's little issue with you, he put me in charge. Let me tell you, he's precise in what he wants. Lay back so I can get this over with."
Slowly, I peel off my pants, leaving them in a heap in front of the door. The lube from earlier has thankfully dried up a bit, but I'm still feeling the need to take a few moments to myself. I close my eyes for a moment, a wave of embarrassment swamping me. “Can you just give me a few minutes? I need to clean up a bit.” I'm trying not to get overwhelmed, but each time I think I have a handle on something, my feet get knocked back out from underneath me. She gives me a small smile and heads towards the door, picking up my pants along the way.
"Word to the wise, never leave anything out of place. Surprise inspections could do you in." She tosses them into a nearby hamper and shuts the door.
I ease my way over to the toilet and sit down, plopping my head into my hands. My breathing becomes more labored and much more rapid as I sit there until the entire room is spinning. I clutch at my hair, that sharp prick enough to start balancing me and bringing me back to reality. Inhaling for four counts, I then hold for four and exhale for four. Several rounds of that, and I'm starting to breathe a bit more normally. My pulse is still racing, but at least I'm not in danger of fainting. The soft knock startles me a bit, sending me into motion. I quickly clean off the remaining lube before flushing and washing my hands. Shuffling onto the towels, I lay back and put my hands over my eyes, blocking out everything. "I'm ready."
"So, it seems you are."
My eyes fly open. Professor Richards. Glancing over, I lower my hands to cover myself. He's at my side before I can get even halfway down.
"I've already seen you; no need to play shy now."
His chuckles echo off of the bathroom as I cover my face again, trying to hide the flush I know is already bright. His fingers skim over my sensitive flesh before cupping my mound. Resisting a moan, I simply tilt my hips up a bit, asking for just a touch of relief.
"So needy already. I can't wait for tonight."
He removes his hand before bringing it crashing down on my lower lips. I swallow my yelp and grit my teeth. His body shifts away from mine, leaving a cool eddy around me. I blink up at the bright light, trying to look everywhere but at him. He and Bethany shuffle to the side to have a private conversation, and I do my best to look as uninterested as possible.
"You know what, I think she'll be fine for tonight," he continues, kneeling back down beside me before prying my legs open. Just clean up along here and here." His fingers are so impersonal as he touches me. But maybe that's a good thing. I can't let myself fall for him. Best to cut off anything I'm feeling at the start. "See you tonight, Mouse."
"Yes, professor," Bethany chimes in. "She'll be ready for you."