My name's Jenny and I'm twenty. I like the little rhyme; it makes me smile. I think I have a birthday coming up soon, but I'll have to check with the Mistresses.
From somewhere in a dream, or maybe even real life, a Mistress' voice told me to wake up, so I did. I woke up under the covers of the giant bed I shared with Lily, my petite, snow-white roommate, feeling like I was laying on a cloud. Music was playing, and though it was a bit muffled, I could tell it was bright, cheerful, and relaxed -- the kind you'd hear over a sunrise at the beginning of a movie musical.
"Take out your earbuds and put them away,"
the mystery Mistress' voice whispered in my ears.
"Yes, Mistress," I replied, then smiled at how silly that was.
Lily and I were both on our backs, right next to each other, holding hands. We reluctantly broke that connection to deal with our earbuds, but then immediately rolled back into one another. We tangled ourselves up with each other and locked gazes. My nerves came alive with that extra-special roommate connection. Her always-smiling-or-crying eyes posed a new mystery, there in the early morning hours: I couldn't tell how awake she was -- only that she was happy. I assumed she was as alert and refreshed as I was, though, and that she, like me, was just letting herself get drunk on our love for each other.
"Hi, bun-bun," I said, caressing her face.
"Hi, Jenny-bee," she replied, nuzzling my nose with hers.
We kissed tenderly and stayed intertwined until the Mistress' voice poured forth from the room's speakers like honey.
"Good morning, first-years,"
she said.
"Welcome to your first full day of classes and activities. Today's special 'bad girl' phrase is 'donkey note.' For the rest of the day, 'bad girl' can be sexy and fun, and 'donkey note' is what you don't want to hear from your Mistresses, Masters, or deputized students."
The entire room flashed with that purple light. My eyes lost focus on Lily's, and I felt the Mistress' words worm their way deep into my brain.
"'Donkey note' means 'bad girl.' 'Bad girl' is sexy and fun. 'Donkey note' means you did something wrong. 'Donkey note' means you need to be punished."
"Yes, Mistress," I said blankly. That time, it didn't feel silly at all. The flashing stopped; the room returned to normal.
"Your first challenge is to bring up your schedules on your big TV,
" the voice from all the speakers continued. "
Remember those room lessons from yesterday! Use the split-screen feature so that you can see them side-by-side, then use the remote to scroll around. After that, girls on the nighttime schedule will find their two milk buttons available in the bathroom. Get a full glass and drink up while you get ready!"
After that, the morning's music began to fade out, leaving us to our little assignment.
Lily was closer to the laptops and tablets, so she handled that part. I found the TV remote. We were both very hip to technology, and I remembered the room lessons from the day before perfectly. Soon, we were both sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing at the TV screen, absorbing pulses of purple light as we checked our schedules and notes for the day. The 'donkey note' phrase was at the very top of the schedule, before any of the classes or activities, just in case we'd missed it. Otherwise, the light efficiently emphasized that everything was planned out for us, and that our overarching obligation was to obey. It was very reassuring. Obeying felt good; it was one third of the holy trinity.
Quite a few things jumped out at me from the side-by-side schedules. First, our morning prep time, which included our spankings, bum checks, and feedings, had a restriction: only one orgasm allowed apiece. Second, our first class was something called "Challenge Yoga," classified as green; its note told us that we'd have to strip down completely, including any plugs, though it didn't outright say we should go without them until then. We had a free half-hour after that, followed by Sexual Anatomy, which was classified as both blue and green. Then came lunch -- both of them, blue then green -- and then we had three more long blue classes.
"Aw," Lily said, "we're apart after math." I had Remedial Math, Remedial English Composition, and Introductory Animal Care. Lily had Remedial Math, Intermediate French, and Introductory Massage Therapy. Strangely enough, that last class of hers, like all the other afternoon ones, was purely blue. As soon as I'd seen the word 'massage' on the TV screen, my mind had immediately gone to sex. I remembered the awesome foot rub Lily had given me the prior night, plus all the attention my ass cheeks had gotten from countless hands over the span of my first day. All of that had been extremely sexual. My body was very much liking my little reminiscence there on the bed.
I rubbed her back. "That'll just make the evening more fun. Imagine how horny we'll be for each other when those last blue lights fade."
Lily leaned her head on my shoulder and rubbed my naked leg. "That's a great way of thinking about it, bay-
bee
."
I giggled.
"Sorry," she said. "I'm still trying stuff out. That one might not make the cut."
"I'll leave it up to you," I said. "I just love that you love me like that, angel."
"Ooh," she said. "That one's nice. I know the 'snow' bit makes it cleverer, but just 'angel' is quick and pretty."
"Good to know!"
"So... we should probably wait to have that orgasm, right?" She sounded just as reluctant and disappointed as I felt.
"Probably," I said. "That 'challenge' business is telling me something. I just don't know what."
"Me, too. That's so cool. It's like we're both smart in the same way. I love that."
"Well, you apparently know some French."
"
Un peu de français canadien, mon amour
," she said. "Because... I think... Canada?" I looked over at her; I wasn't too worried. She was having a brief 'old life' moment. Those happened. She shook it off quickly and came back to me.
"Well, I knew that last word," I told her. "If you ever want to practice it here in the room, please feel free -- well, unless you actually need me to know something."
"Oh, I think you'll know enough most of the time,
mamours
," she said seductively. Her hand drifted dangerously close to my pussy. "
Ma chatte
." With her other hand, she flirted with her own.
"
Ma chatte...
she said again, but then grasped my hand and brought it near her hidden white tulip.
"Votre chatte.
Because it's yours, whenever you want it."
"
Ma chatte,
" I repeated, squeezing her thigh. I spread my own legs in a teasing invitation. "
Votre chatte.
"
"Très bien, mon bourdon!"
She bit her lip. "Maybe you'll start learning French soon, too?"
"I hope so!"
With no other pressing obligations until our dorm Mistress arrived, we removed our plugs and placed them in the chute, spritzed our mouths with mouthwash, peed, and washed up. My ass felt empty, and that disappointed me a little. I took solace in the fact that I was going to get my bum checked in short order -- and that Lily was going to get to watch it happen.
"We should look ourselves up!" I said.
"Ooh!" Lily replied. "That's fun! We can finally see our own buttholes!"
We both giggled, then headed to our laptops on our desks. I navigated the college's dedicated intranet with ease, locating myself quickly. My file was already huge, featuring hundreds of pictures and dozens of movies.
"Oh my god," I said quietly. "I'm hot."
Lily giggled again. "Of course you are! Did you not know? We both looked in the big mirrors yesterday, silly!"
I smiled over at her and gave a little shrug. "I guess," I said, "but this is different. Look at these shots! Look at these movies! We're porn stars, Lily. Plus, how hard would it be to set mirrors up to see a head-on butthole shot like this?"
"Ass-on," she corrected me, "but yes, that is true. And mine is so weird -- good weird, but weird. Do you like it?"
"I love it," I assured her. We reached out and found each other's hands. I gave hers a squeeze.
"Thank you, Jenny," she said. "I'm a lucky girl."
"Me too."
Naturally, we were both curious about how we'd looked during our orientation ceremony the prior morning. With a few clever computer moves, we brought the two videos of us up in a split screen on the big TV, then spun our comfy, executive chairs around to see the action. We wheeled them closer together and held hands again, with our laptops in our laps. We'd figured out that the TV remote didn't have enough buttons to do what we wanted to do: check out every single angle of the two of us getting power-fucked into oblivion by our respective training Mistresses. All the better that that made it difficult for us to get to our pussies. We were still mindful that we ought to wait before having our one allowed orgasm.
