Everyone watches as I walk down to the seventh room and sit on the bed with my ankles crossed. I keep my head up and remain in control of my emotions. I refuse to appear weak. I sit here and just do as I am told. There is a limit of pushback I can give, and I know I am pushing it for my first day, but I am going to make sure everyone knows I do not want to be here.
I look over and see Jax walking into my room with my books, journals, and my art supplies. He sets the box on my desk before turning to me. “Put these items away, and then meet the other girls in the common area,” he says.
“Okay,” I reply simply. I stand and go to the box so I can organize it on my desk and in the nightstand. I put all of the books on the shelf at the bottom of the bedside table, but arrange everything in the drawers of the desk. Once I am done, I leave the room and see six other girls sitting on the couches and ottoman. They look up and smile when they see me.
“Hi!” A woman says happily. “You must be Alania Remington. I’m Fiona Furgeson.”
“Hi,” I say simply and sit on the couch next to her.
“That is Clara Jacobs, Rose Chambers, Talia Holcomb, Daphne Peters, and Gemma Caldwell,” she explains. “What school did you come from?”
“Harvard,” I say. “I have a master’s in English Literature with a minor in Psychology.”
“Nice! I have a master’s in business administration. I think we all do, but you,” she says. “I wanted to do psychology but…”
“But Daddy didn’t want you to,” I say. She grins, but the others look shocked. “I was also forced to come here, but I was given a choice between English and business.”
“You are room seven, right? I am six,” she says.
“I am. Do you always talk this much?” I ask.
“Only when I am nervous,” she laughs. “Also, you were a brat to the headmaster, and I nearly came. I’m going to make you my best friend.”
“I might get you in trouble,” I warn.
“That’s okay,” she replies, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Ladies,” the headmaster says, clapping his hands together. “You will be following the guards to the restroom, where you will shower and change into your uniform. Afterwards, you are free to socialize and settle in.”
I stand up with Fiona and navigate toward Jax instead of Phillip. I know better than to get trapped by him. He is leering at me like I am a piece of meat, and I’ve been cornered by too many men to not recognize a predator when I see one.
“Scared?” Jax asks me with a smile. Fiona looks at me curiously.
“Scared that baldy is going to rape me? Absolutely. I called him a good boy and made him say please. I know a predator when I see one,” I say matter-of-factly.
“He knows the rules, Alania,” Jax chuckles. “We aren’t allowed to touch you girls like that. The most we can do is spank you with an open hand. Even then, he can't punish you for something that happened before you arrived. We all knew you’d be a handful.”
“And if you’re wrong?” I ask.
“You let a master know right away, even if it’s just a threat,” he says seriously.
“Wait. How did you know?” I ask.
“Your father warned us that you were less than willing. Plus, your mother was apparently just like you,” he says, making me grin. I don’t know why I am proud to know that my mother was also a giant brat, but at least I know it came naturally. This begs the question, though. Will I break and be stuck with a man who only knows anger and violence?
We walk to the doorway centered on the back wall and file in. There is a wall jutting out that leads you around it before it opens up into a massive bathroom. There are bathroom stalls with doors along the left wall, open shower stalls along the right, sinks and mirrors on the back wall, and an open shower in the center. It’s something that looks like a support beam with shower heads coming out of the top to surround the pole. There are shackles attached, and I am assuming this is a form of punishment.
“Girls!” Jax says. “Find a shower stall and take all of your clothes off. Toss them out. We will collect them and hang up your uniforms. You should have everything you need in the stalls.”
Fiona and I take the stalls at the very end and follow the given instructions. I get the shower on and it warms fast, so I can step under the hot water. It relaxes me, and I just focus on the task at hand and try not to think about Phillip staring at me. Jax comes by to grab my clothes and scans my body for a moment as he hangs my uniform next to the towels, but continues to the other stalls.
When I’m done, I wrap myself in one towel as I use the other to gently dry my mid-length reddish-brown hair. It’s wavy andprone to frizz, so I am sure to not do anything that might irritate it. Next, I look at the uniform that Jax left.
The uniform isn’t much. A simple black skirt that barely hits my mid-thigh and is cinched at the waist just enough to suggest shape before flaring out. With it, there’s a short-sleeved, baggy, sheer white blouse, like it’s pretending to be modest. It does nothing to hide the black lace bra beneath it. Not that the bra does much either. My nipples show through both. There aren’t any panties included, of course. This is for easier access, I assume. Functional degradation at its finest.
There is still a slight dampness to my skin as I step into the simple black flats. The cool air causes goosebumps to rise on my skin, and a shiver trembles through my body as I wrap my arms around myself.
I’ve always been okay with my body. I love my thick thighs and wide hips. Dad would call me fat, but it never stopped men from wanting to bury their faces in my cunt. Growing up as Daddy’s nighttime fuck toy had its advantages, or at least that’s what I tell myself to avoid blowing my brains out. I’ve been having sex consensually since I was thirteen, and by that I mean I just always said yes. I practiced sucking dick on the older boys before letting grown men fuck me in secret. They made me feel older and more mature, but they just wanted to get their dicks wet. The psychology professor told me once that trauma made me hypersexual, but he was also the one who fucked my ass after class several times a week.
