The eminent Harriet Holden College was at the pinnacle of private higher education for girls. It was expensive, and proud of its demanding curriculum. A reputation for launching the most deserving into the upper realms of business, law, and politics. On many occasions, having educated two and even three generations of women from prominent families.
"It's your big day." Trish was sitting in the parlor of the mansion where she had grown up. She was listening, her mother, Margaret Wentworth had spoken. As it usually went when her mother was in the room. "Do you think you're ready for this?"
Trish shrugged. "It's a long way from home." She said. "I don't like being away for so long."
"Well, rules for you are changing." Her mother smiled at her. "You are no longer a child. A place awaits for you. Here, in this family, with the businesses we own." She picked up a small bell that was always by her side. She rang it. "You may one day be running it all. Have it all."
A short, thin Asian girl wearing the standard black and white frock of a household maid entered the room. She whispered. "Ms?"
Trish's mother looked a Trish. "You must be willing to do whatever is required." She snapped a finger, and the girl came forward. When in front of her, the woman just pointed to the floor. The girl knelt before her. Margaret looked at Trish. "Sit there. Be still and learn." She said. She looked at the girl now kneeling. She nodded.
When the girl hesitated, and looked over at Trish, Margaret snaped a finger again. The girl's hands reached for the buttons that went all the way up the front of Margaret's floor length robe. She began at the bottom and was unbuttoning them, soon she was up to her waist.
Margaret pushed the fabric of her dress to the sides, her long legs in view. She raised those legs, placing them over the chair arms. Her slender fingers slipped into the crotch of her panties; Trish sat aghast at what was taking place in front of her. She had never seen her mother, or anyone else, for that matter, doing such a thing.
With a neatly trimmed pubic mound now in full view, she reached for the girl. She gripped a hand full of shiny black hair. The girl, having been in this position many times, offered no complaint. She let herself be guided to Margaret's waiting sex that already glistened with anticipation.
"Umm." Margaret moaned. She grinned down at the girl, eagerly attending to her needs. "Two rules, Trish." Her gaze turned from the girl and toward her daughter. "Always." She emphasized the word. "Do whatever is necessary." She nodded at the girl between her legs. "But always be grateful for your successes."
Trish did not know what to say. Her mother did. "The limo is waiting. You should go." Trish stood, hesitated, and then hurried out the front door to see the family limo setting there, engine running, the rear door open.
Margaret listened to every sound. The front door close, the car door also close, and the car pull away. Her daughter about to embark on the education of a lifetime. About to be molded into another respectable Wentworth lady.
The house quiet, her attention returned to the girl. She tightened the grip she had on the girl's hair. "Your eyes." She said. "You should be looking at me." The girl's eye's raised, locking onto Margaret's as Margaret began to tug. She worked the girl's mouth along her sex. "I remember my first time like it was yesterday. So young, so frightened." She was speaking to the girl as she was being pleasured.
Twenty minutes later, Margaret had calmed herself from a major climax. She ran her fingers through the girl's hair, trying but unable to straighten the mess she had made of it. She slipped a hand under the girls arm and pulled her up. her face now in front of Margaret's, she kissed the girl. "Come to my bed tonight." She whispered. "Perhaps then. You will not be so distracted." She girl stood and hurried out of the room, a grin on her face as there usually was. "Be grateful." Margaret whispered to the empty room. "Always be grateful."
Meanwhile, in the limo, Trish was in a panic. "What the hell?" She muttered. "My mom?" She sat quiet but with her mind racing the entire four-hour drive to Holden College. She tried to get the last visions of home out of her head, but it wasn't working very well.
When she arrived at the college, she was assisted with her belongings by two students. They each wore the school uniform, tartan skirt, white blouse, and black loafers with white knee socks. She was shown to her dorm room. Unlike state college, every student was provided a private room with adjoining bath. She busied herself unpacking and putting things away. When she opened the closet, she saw, all neatly hung, 6 skirts, 6 blouses and a dark blue blazer. She checked, all the right size. She opened a bureau drawer. It held white bra's, white socks, and white bikini panties. And only now did she realize that every item had the H.H.C logo
Later, she was escorted to the dining hall where she met a number of the students, mostly first-year students as they all seemed to be grouping up by class. She had been instructed to wear her uniform and truth told, she found that she liked it very much.
The next morning, at 7:00 AM, she answered her door to find a tall blonde who looked to be too old to be a student but too young to be an instructor and yet, she wore the standard Holden uniform. "I'm Cleo." She said. "Ms. McMasters's assistant.
Trish just offered a blank stare. "Ah, yes." Cleo said. "Ms. McMasters is the school administrator. "Anyway, I am to give you a tour of our facilities this morning. And later, I will introduce the two of you?"
Trish's tour was thorough. Lecture halls, common gathering areas, commissary. They even stopped at the medical office where she was introduced to the resident nurse, a tall woman with a German accent and her assistant. They visited the Olympic sized pool, spa, and weight room. Outside, the soccer field, synthetic running track and just a distant view if the woods where, she was told, many of the girls enjoyed hiking.
When the two reentered the main building, a woman in her late forties met them. "Trish." Cleo said. "This is Ms. McMasters."
The woman took Trish's hand in both of hers. "Please, it's Andria." She said. "I can't tell you how pleased we were to hear you would be joining us this year." She pointed toward a nearby door. "My office." She said. All three went inside, Cleo following and pulling the door closed. "Your mother, I am told, was the perfect student in her day." She said as she settled into her chair behind her desk. She smiled at Trish. "No pressure," She pointed to a chair. "Please be seated."
"I believe in education." She said. "And I think it should start as soon as possible." Cleo was walking around behind Trish and making her way over to stand beside Andria. We here at Holden believe that a proper education starts with two things." She looked at Trish. "Service." She said. "Service to oneself, one's future, and to those who would be your true allies."
Andria had wrapped an arm around Cleo's waist. "The second is Submission." Her hand eased lower. Trish could now she Andria's fingers between Cleo's thighs. "One's submission to the goal. Achieving whatever is necessary for a truly successful life." She smiled. She looked at Trish. "Whatever that requires of us."
Andria released Cleo and Cleo walked around the desk to stand in front of Trish. As Trish watched, Cleo began to unbuckle her belt. She eased her skirt over her hips and let it fall to the floor. She thumbed her panties. Trish swallowed hard. Her hands gripped the chair arms. She was so near to running. Andria had stood and came around without Trish noticing. She moved behind Trish, her hands coming to her shoulders.
Andria leaned down as Cleo rolled her panties over her hips and they too, fluttered to the floor. Andria whispered. "Service." She said. "It comes in many forms." She patted Trish's shoulder. She kissed her cheek. Cleo was kneeling in front of Trish. "Sometimes we should just be grateful."
