The Society (closed for Sylnaeve)

saedo

Delver of the Deep
Joined
Aug 6, 2010
Posts
3,547
closed for Sylnaeve

Yukio glanced at name written on the scrap of paper in her hand. Melody Wainwright, Rosewood Hall, Room 318. Rosewood was located to the west. Yukio deliberated a moment, then decided to detour along the seaward side of campus. She enjoyed the tang of the sea air along the cliffs.

She strolled along the cobblestone walk that ran just inside the protective wall running near the cliff edge. Yukio glanced over; below were the dark cliffs that gave Blackstone Academy its name. At the base was a broad beach of grey sand edging the large cove with its blue green water. A narrow inlet in the encircling dark rocks kept out the more tempestuous of the Mediterranean's waves, leaving the water so clear that she could see the bottom even from this height.

The wind that whipped the fabric of her skirt about her thighs had the hint of summer. The grey beach below was presently deserted, but it wouldn't be long before the water was warm enough to invite swimmers. The beach would then be lined with dozens of her bikini-clad classmates enjoying the afternoon sun.

Thoughts like that always amused her. Many of the structures at Blackstone dated back centuries to when this location had been a nunnery. For hundreds of years, devout nuns in their simple clothing had come here to spend their days in humble prayer. She wondered how the nuns would feel if they saw their quiet halls now housed bold, young women who wore makeup, miniskirts, and high heels and who in most cases were anything but humble.

Still, not everything had changed. The name had been Latin as a nunnery, but buried within its rambling title were the words "nigrum lapidem" - "of the black stone". The nunnery had fallen into disuse in the early 20th century. It had even been briefly occupied as a fortress during the Second World War.

n the 50s, someone had the bright idea to turn it into a school for women, a nod to its nunnery past. At first, it had been little more than a place for the wealthy and powerful to send their daughters until a suitable husband could be found. Indeed, eventually a government official or successful businessman had Blackstone graduate for a wife. As women came to greater prominence in the world, so too did Blackstone's star rise. Gradually expanding into a true bastion of higher learning, its graduate s in the late 20th century would themselves rise to positions of prominence: doctors, judges, senators, CEOs, and even a prime minister. Now in the 21st, Blackstone was viewed as a gateway to the halls of power. The wealthy and influential the world over vied mightily to get their daughters into a school of such prestige. Thus had Yukio, daughter of a multinational corporation's CEO, found herself halfway around the world on this small island, staring out at the Meditteranean.

Yukio sighed softly before turning back from the cliff. She loved this view, particularly at this time of day. She would miss it when she graduated later this year. Still, she had a task to perform. She adjusted the strap of her backpack and resumed her trip along the the path.

Classes were still in session, so only a handful of students were presently moving around. A pair of first years (identifiable by the color of their skirts) waved at her as she passed. As Student Council Vice President, Yukio was a prominent member of the student body, so she was used to such shows of respect. She smiled and nodded in reply.

A few minutes later, she arrived at Rosewood Hall. Entering through the main door, she took the stairs from the main foyer up to the third floor. Glancing in both directions on the landing, she found the hallway clear. She strode down the hall till she stood out in front of Room 318.

Yukio checked her watch. Melody should still be in class for at least the next 15 minutes. Still, Yukio knocked anyway. No answer. Yukio checked the hallway again to make sure she wasn't being watched. With the coast clear, she unzipped a side pocket from her backpack and withdrew a small ring of keys. The first two she tried were no good, but with the third, the lock on the door clicked open.

Yukio stepped inside and shut the door behind her. It looked much like her own freshman dorm room had: desk, bed, chest of drawers, closet, window. First year rooms weren't much on space or amenities.

Yukio was tempted to snoop around. Till last night, she'd never even heard Melody Wainwright's name before. Of course, that was likely by design. When the Society initiated contact for the first time, it generally used someone the individual didn't know. Yukio was all the more curious given Melody's age. Most new initiates were sophomores or juniors. There must be something special about this one to merit such early attention.

Yukio reached into her backpack and withdrew a dark rectangle. The almost pitch black stationery was of high quality and felt weighty and stiff in her hand. Elaborate silver calligraphy looped across the front proclaiming "You are being considered. - In Societatis Rose". On the reverse, the same silver scrawl listed a date two days hence followed by "Midnight, Old Chapel".

Yukio set the card on the bed, leaning against the pillow; Melody would be sure to notice it against the white sheets. She then opened the door carefully and peeked out into the hall. Seeing no observers, she slipped out, letting the door lock shut behind her.

Yukio smiled as she exited the building. How she wished she could be a fly on the wall when Melody discovered the invitation. Getting contacted by the Society was an event equal parts exciting and eerie. After all, In Societatis Rose was reputed to be an elite secret organization which selected only the most gifted and talented students for membership. But then Blackstone was replete with folklore of the ancient and mysterious, like the ghost who purportedly haunted the bell tower or the story that hidden in the catacombs was a stone altar once used Nazi occultists during the Second World War. They made for fun tales to spook the first years, but of course they were all just stories. As such, Melody had just been contacted by a group which everyone agreed didn't exist....
 
"So study session tomorrow?" The speaker was a cute girl with brown hair and a slender, willowy frame.

"Yeah! See you then!" Melody Wainwright waved to her classmates as she turned to head back to the dorms. She's finished with her last class for the day and felt great about it. This school was so far from her home and so different than the life she'd lived before, but now that she was here, Melody found herself loving the nunnery turned school.

Though it was a slightly longer route, she detoured to walk along the seaward side of the school and paused to look out over the stone wall to the blue perfection of the sea. Before coming here, she had never seen such eye dazzling natural beauty or felt her heart ache with longing for the embrace of nature.

Melody was young and staggeringly lovely; modeling had been suggested as a career for her by many people but she wanted to do something more substantial. Or at least get a first class education so she could do something more substantial and do modeling. She was a little taller than average at 5'8" and had a lovely face with fair, creamy skin that was smooth and flawless, fine and noble features, plush, full pink lips and sparkling blue eyes. Her hair was a rich auburn color a sullen red that leaped into brilliant flame when the sun fell on it. Indeed, in the spring and summer as she got more sun, the red in her hair came out more and more strongly, Melody usually looking like a fiery redhead by the end of summer. Her body was a sumptuous study of curves that were ample and full, yet not fully those of a woman yet, promising more delicious growth to come. Her breasts were high and pert; plush mounds of flesh that were more than a handful each and stood proudly out from her chest as if defying gravity. Her stomach was flat and her waist narrow, yet not as much as she might like, and her ass was a firm bubble of flesh that was a handful though not as ample as her bust.

She stood and watched the waves for a few minutes and sighed happily before turning back to the path to her small, pleasant little room. It was the least space she'd ever lived in but it was still nice. It made her feel part of everything here, even though she was only a freshman.

As she stepped into her room, Melody shivered as if she'd brushed against a cobweb. There was no such thing, of course, her room was very clean. But still...that had felt a bit strange. She shook her head and shrugged, setting her bag down against the door and taking a step before she halted with a sharp intake of breath.

On the white surface of her pillows, there was a glossy black rectangle about the size of a business card. She blinked and looked back at her door. That had not been here when she left today, and she'd had to unlock the door so no one had been inside, so...where had it come from?

Melody swallowed nervously. Luckily, there was nowhere in her room for anyone to hide, so she walked over and picked up the card. It was of very heavy stock; feeling thick and weighty for its size. It was that deep, deep, almost obsidian black all over, save for elegant and artful writing in gleaming silver. She read the words, her mouth falling open.

Being considered...In Societatis Rose? That...what was this about? That was impossible!

She'd heard all the rumors and stories. A secret society of alumni with powerful connections, wealthy and mighty, who inducted promising students and brought them into that same wealth and privilege. But those who failed their tests were never heard of, living lives of carefully managed non-importance by the Society. But it wasn't real, everyone said.

But there were still lots of stories. And this card...

It was a joke. It had to be! Someone was teasing her.

But...but what if it wasn't? What if the Society WAS real? And if they were, and they were considering her...

She turned the card over. That was two days from now and midnight at the Old Chapel. A meeting? Melody sank down on her bed, turning the card over and over in slightly trembling hands. "This...this is a joke, right?" There was no one there to answer, but saying it aloud somehow felt better. "But what if it's not...if this is real...but it can't be real."

Could it?

Maybe she should ask someone about the Society. But who? An upperclassman or one of the teachers? They'd just blow her off or she'd get in trouble; they might think she was teasing or making fun of them or the school.

"What should I do?"

~~~~~~~~~​

Melody stumbled against the doors of the Old Chapel, biting back a squeak and glancing about to see if anyone had heard or was coming her way. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Oh, this was so stupid! It was just a joke, a trick to humiliate her.

She shapely young girl leaned back against the heavy old doors, just breathing and listening fiercely for the sign of any other living thing. "Just go back, Mel," she whispered to herself. "You shouldn't be here. Go back and it'll all be okay."

But even as she said it, her hand reached for and found the handle of one of the doors. She knew it was dumb but...but she had to know!

The day after finding the card, Melody had decided this was a prank and that she was going to ignore it. But she couldn't stop thinking about it. Was it really a prank? Could it be true? Her curiosity had gnawed at her, and she found herself taking the card out of her bag when no one was around and looking it over again, inspecting it as if there was some unseen clue she hadn't found.

And now here she was, breaking curfew and school rules, and she knew it was reckless and foolish and she shouldn't be here. But...she had to know!

The door opened and she winced as ir creaked slightly. Melody slipped inside and shut the door behind her, leaning against it.

Oh, God.

She pulled out her iPhone. Two minutes to midnight. Melody swallowed nervously and took a few, shaky steps into the chapel.
 

Fatima glanced at her watch, the diamonds encircling the face glinting as they caught the light. Thirteen minutes till midnight. Soon they'd know.

She glanced over at her companion. Like Fatima, Yukio was clad in the long dark cloaks always worn during formal Society events. At a distance, the cloaks appeared to be featureless shrouds. Up close, one could see that they were actually embroidered with even darker thread. Incredibly intricate designs of curling vines and delicate roses traced their way down from the hooded top to the hem which brushed her ankles. Yukio's brown eyes were framed by a dark cloth mask, itself festooned with similar embroidered patterns. Fatima had always appreciated the metaphor - members of the Society of the Rose blended in with those around them, subtly hidden away from those who did not know how to look closely.

The two of them had been here for quite some time already preparing the location. The Old Chapel was one of the older buildings on campus, dating back to the original nunnery. Records indicated that the nunnery had itself outgrown its rather limited capacity, leading to the construction of the Cathedral nearer the current center of campus.

As then, so now did the Old Chapel serve mainly as an ancillary building. A few instructors still taught courses here during the day, as evidenced by the pair of wheeled chalkboards at the front. Some extracurricular clubs and religious groups occasionally held gatherings here as well, but most preferred more modern locations to the solemn atmosphere of stained glass windows and ancient wooden pews.

"A first year?" she inquired idly. "I didn't know one so young could even be considered for induction."

Yukio's narrow shoulders shrugged. "Nor did I. None of the acolytes when I joined had been selected so early and certainly none have been till now."

Fatima shook her head. "Then why her? How can she be worthy already?"

Yukio's almond-shaped eyes narrowed into displeased slits. "Don't," she instructed. "It is not our place to question the will of the Elders.

Fatima bowed her head, abashed at her arrogance. "You're right," she murmured softly. "I did not mean to overstep."

Yukio smiled and placed a comforting hand on Fatima's arm. "Don't worry. I found it puzzling as well when the Elders first told me. But then I'd hardly have considered myself worthy of inclusion when I was first approached. The Elders saw in me something that even I did not. I trust their judgment."

Fatima smiled softly and put her other hand atop Yukio's delicate fingers. "You are wise, as always."

Yukio's smile pulled upwards in a mischevious smirk. "Besides, she must first survive initiation," she added with a wink. "Not everyone considered does."

Fatima grinned as well, but a pair of low hums precluded any further conversation. Each one reached inside their cloaks and produced their cell phones. The same text message lit up on each: "She approaches." The two exchanged glances confirming they'd received the same warning from the lookout before moving moved into position.

Yukio moved to the bank of light switches in an alcove off the main dais. The Old Chapel had been upgrade with electricity, one of its few concessions to modern times. A handful of overhead lights plus the moonlight pouring in through the multiple stained glass windows provided sufficient illumination to navigate amongst the pews, but left the rest of the interior in deep shadows.

Another few minutes ticked past as the two students waited in the darkness. Yukio had been involved in these ceremonies before, so she knew that every candidate's reaction was different. Some didn't even respond to the invitation, assuming that someone was playing a prank on them. Sometimes the lookouts would report that the girl would set out for the ceremony's location, but turn back before entering. Those who never arrived (or worse, arrived late) would forever be left to wonder, finding only an empty room. The Society did not favor meekness in its membership.

At last, a couple minutes before midnight, the doors at the rear of the chapel opened. Yukio kneeled in the alcove and poked her head out. From this low angle, her view was initially obscured. She head the squeak of sneakers on the old cobblestones initially, then a head appeared above the pews. Yukio watched closely as a clearly anxious woman slowly stepped down the center aisle, slowly pivoting as she walked so she could see in all directions.

Even by the dim light, Yukio could see the girl was beautiful. Her hair was a pale auburn near the crown of head, but transitioned toward a brilliant red. As she slowly turned to check behind her once more, Yukio could see that Melody's hair stretched down her back, looking like trail of flames against the dark green of her jacket. (This time of the year, nights could still get a bit cool.)

The pews concealed much of Melody's lower body, but Yukio could tell that she wore dark jeans. (Students only had to wear skirts to class or to official school functions, so such casual attire was permissible.) The jeans fit snugly, emphasizing Melody's slender thighs and cupping a very nice pair of buttocks.

The jacket rendered much the first year's torso indistinct, so Yukio paid it little mind at first. But as the auburn beauty neared the middle of the Chapel, the concealed senior's eyes grew wide. What Yukio had thought must be a trick of the dim light or perhaps just an odd draping of the jacket might actually be . . . her chest? Yukio couldn't be sure of the exact dimensions given the jacket, but it was apparent that Melody possessed a sizable bosom. Merely pondering the possibilities hardened Yukio's nipples into diamonds.

"Hello?" ventured Melody, her voice rife with uncertainty. "Is anyone there?" No doubt the darkened silence of the Chapel had the poor girl a bit unnerved.

Yukio glanced at her watch. Not yet time, and the Society did take pride in punctuality. She let the first year stew the remaining 30 seconds until midnight struck.

A flip of a switch sent a piercing few piercing beams of light down on the dais at the front of the church. Standing behind the wooden podium located on the left side was Fatima. She had drawn her cloak about her and raised the hood, so her entire frame was shrouded in the dark fabric. The angle of the light caused Fatima's hood to shadow her face and put a little glare in Melody's eyes. Yukio knew Fatima would also have donned her mask as well, further concealing her features.

The effect on the first year was immediate. Melody gasped and took a step back. Yukio had once seen another candidate shriek in terror and flee at this point, but fortunately this leggy redhead was made of slightly sterner backbone.

Fatima allowed her audience no time to recover. "Candidate!" her voice rang out as clearly as the cathedral's noon bells. "In Societatis Rose has selected you for consideration as an initiate. Membership in this august organization is an honor beyond measure, but such privilege is not accorded lightly. You must first prove your worth. As an initiate, you will be subjected to a series of trials that will test you to your utmost. The severity of this process should not be undertaken lightly, for the penalty of failure is high."

Yukio smiled in her dark alcove. Fatima had become the Elders' favorite for this ceremony. The dark-skinned Persian was an actual Saudi princess and her royal upbringing showed. Even cloaked in shadow, she radiated power and confidence. Her lightly accented English gave each word a sterling tone, like a freshly minted coin. Fatima's presentation never failed to impress.

"You will be permitted a brief time to consider this opportunity before accepting it," continued Fatima. "If you are not up to this honor, you have merely to do nothing. You will never hear from us again, forgotten forever by In Societatis Rose. But if you choose to undertake this challenging path, then tomorrow as the noon bell tolls, you will lay a single white rose on the eastern side of the Fountain. Then walk away to await our instructions."

"But candidate, choose your course wisely. While few are invited, even fewer are chosen!" Fatima's voice caromed off the the stone walls with vibrant energy with this final annoucement, and then the Old Chapel was plunged into darkness as Yukio flipped the appropriate switches.

Fatima swiftly joined her in the alcove and together they made their way into a darkened side passageway. Having practiced this multiple times, their exit was swift and silent. No doubt Melody would be temporarily disoriented by the sudden darkness. By the time the first year's eyes readjusted to the dim and she was able to navigate her way out of the Chapel, Yukio and Fatima would be long gone, leaving not a trace behind.

The task set before young Melody was simple, but even this required her to show a willingness to eschew traditional mores. While the campus was covered with a wide variety of rosebushes (the nuns had favored them), the white roses were most easily found on the bushes outside the administration building - the central bastion of campus authority. The Fountain and its watery arcs was in turn located at the center of a wide grassy area amongst academic buildings. At noon tomorrow, there would be hundreds of students in the vicinity on their way between classes. Melody's actions, while minor transgressions at best, would no doubt feel very public. It made for an excellent first test. Yukio looked forward to learning whether the first year carried it through.
 
Melody's heart almost exploded out of her chest when the beams of light cut through the darkness with dazzling intensity; making her eyes smart and water slightly as her night vision was torn apart by the sudden illumination. "Ahh! Wha-" She took a step back, her eyes wide and afraid as she caught sight of the figure behind the pulpit.

She couldn't tell anything about them, the person was shrouded in clothes that were blacker than black; deep and drinking in the light around them. Her stomach did a little flip-flop of fear, but she didn't move further, standing her ground. She wasn't a child! And if this was a joke, she wouldn't run away and give them the satisfaction!

"Candidate!" The voice made her start; a woman! Her voice rang with authority and power, with a crisp British edge to it that made it all the more authentic. "In Societatis Rose has selected you for consideration as an initiate. Membership in this august organization is an honor beyond measure, but such privilege is not accorded lightly. You must first prove your worth. As an initiate, you will be subjected to a series of trials that will test you to your utmost. The severity of this process should not be undertaken lightly, for the penalty of failure is high."

Melody's mouth worked. She wanted to speak; she had questions, dozens of them! But all of this was such a shock and surprise, she couldn't get herself to it! Tests of her worth? What criteria was worth judged on? And what was the high penalty she mentioned if she failed?

"You will be permitted a brief time to consider this opportunity before accepting it. If you are not up to this honor, you have merely to do nothing. You will never hear from us again, forgotten forever by In Societatis Rose. But if you choose to undertake this challenging path, then tomorrow as the noon bell tolls, you will lay a single white rose on the eastern side of the Fountain. Then walk away to await our instructions."

"But candidate, choose your course wisely. While few are invited, even fewer are chosen!"

With that final ringing pronouncement, the light was gone and darkness engulfed the chapel. Melody was blind within it, the adjustment her body had made to the dark before eradicated by the light. "Wait!" She found her voice again, "Wait, please, I have questions about all this. Why me? What do you..." She let her voice trail off; her eyes futilely trying to scan the darkness.

The woman was gone and wouldn't answer. If she wanted to answer Melody's questions, she wouldn't have made such a dramatic exit. Melody shivered, hugging herself with her arms under her more than ample breasts. "Until noon tomorrow..."

Again, the choice was before her. What should she do? Part of her said this was still all a prank, that she should walk away and forget it all ever happened. But part of her wasn't so sure. All of this effort, it...it felt real. What if she was wrong about it being a prank?

High penalty for failure...she nibbled her lower lip as she stood in the cool dark of the Old Chapel, waiting for her eyes to readjust so she could slip out and go back to her room to fret and consider.

~~~~~~~​

The sun was bright and shone down with fervor; illuminating the campus and the girls clear and clean as they went about their day. Melody's heart was pounding hard, her breathing irregular, and she wished for once that it was cloudy and everyone was indoors for a change.

She had to know. In the end, it had come down to that again. She still felt lost and controlled, and likely that she'd be teased and mocked cruelly in the end, but...she had to know.

The white rose had been easy to find. There were several bushes right in front of the administration building. But you weren't supposed to pick any of the flowers on campus, really. It wasn't a major rule but the groundskeepers didn't like it, and neither did the staff or faculty. And the roses were right at the headquarters of the staff!

She'd made herself take one though, trying to snatch a soft, white bloom quickly and without much fuss. Melody had used her scissors to snip one off a bush at the rear corner of the building; but she felt like she was doing in front of the whole world. No one had appeared to scold or accost her; but her heart had been pounding ever since the slight, soft snip that had made the white blossom and its green thorny stem fall into her hand.

Now she was walking briskly towards the fountain, her eyes wide and a bit wild, looking all around. The area was already swarming with students, chatting and laughing, talking idly, speculating about assignments. Many of them glanced at her, their eyes seeming to note the white rose clenched in her right hand, and each time it happened she felt a stab of fear. Did they know? Would they tell? Would they try and stop her?

Oh, God.

The noon bells began to peal, metal celebration echoing out over the campus and declaring the time of day. Her hands started to shake. She could just go now. Drop the rose in the trash, pretend it never happened.

Melody walked to the east side of the fountain, her steps jerky and tense, every fibre of her aware and alert. She held up the rose, really seeing it for the first time. It was lovely; soft and elegant and lush at the same time. Then she closed her eyes and laid it on the cold stone of the magnificent fountain; her hand twitching a few times before she let it go and left it lying there.

She looked up, almost expecting the dark cloaked figure to materialize before her but knew that was foolish. They would contact her again, she had said. Melody swallowed nervously and shifted her feet a few times before turning and walking with stiff posture away from the fountain, towards a lunch she would be too worried to eat, and classes she would not be able to focus on.
 

"So isn't Question #4 a shift of the demand curve rather than a movement along the curve?" Sophia paid little mind as Elizabeth launched into an answer of her question. Elizabeth was always eager to demonstrate her command of the material, so Sophia had give her an easy pop fly that she'd known Elizabeth would rush to get under. This would keep her economics study group momentarily focused on the mousy speaker.

Sophia had they hold their session in the Quad today. Usually they met in the library, but Sophia had argued they should get out and enjoy the pleasant weather. With the wide grassy expanse dotted with flower beds and decorative trees, the Quad was a popular place amongst the students. Fortunately they'd found a free patch of grass beneath one of the flowering trees towards the southeast.

As the bells began to toll the noon hour, Sophia let her gaze slip towards the Fountain at the Quad's center. Classes were currently between sessions, so a torrent of students traversed the gravel-lined paths crisscrossing the Quad. Sophia had never met her target, but spotting her proved simple enough. The girl's height made her reddish ponytail easier to see.

When the crowds parted enough to permit a better view, Sophia could readily see in the girl's rather stiff movements that here was a very anxious person trying desperately to remain calm. To her credit, she placed a white rose on the edge of the Fountain and continued to walk away - bit robotic in her stride, but unhurried.

Sophia could sympathize. When she had accepted the Society's offer, she had been so keyed up on adrenaline that she'd barely been able to keep from running. The entire walk away, she had been convinced that there'd be a cry of "Stop her!" and campus security chasing after her. When she finally felt in the clear, the immense relief was so intense that she'd almost ckimaxed then and there.

Sophia turned back to the group, her job done. No doubt she had not been the only observer posted. The Elders likely had at least another in place - probably one the backpack-clad students moving between classes. Not that they'd tell her, of course. Her place was to follow instructions.

~~~~
Sophia heard nothing more on the matter for almost a week. She was pleasantly surprised to subsequently be instructed to deliver the next invitation to Melody. That the Elders had selected for additional service meant their confidence in her abilities was growing. With such additional responsibilities came potentially greater rewards. Sophia's body tingled with excitement at the prospect.

Having Melody's class schedule made it easy to find her. The Murchison building housed the various languages classes and the Talbot Athletic Center had the gym, so picking a spot that Melody would pass by between the two was easy. Sophia fell in behind at a safe distance and mixed in with the dozens of other students entering the Talbot Center. She followed the crowd to the women's locker room. Then she merely had to pick the same row of lockers Melody did.

The one challenge Sophia found was in trying not to stare as Melody switched into T-shirt and gym shorts. Sophia's Swedish heritage made her the epitome of the buxom blonde, but even clad in a fiercely restrictive sports bra, Melody's breasts clearly dwarfed Sophia's. Combined with her slender waist and rounded ass, the first year gave new meaning to "hourglass figure".

Sophia took her time removing her clothes and donning her blue one-piece swimsuit. As the row emptied of the other girls, Sophia took note of the locker door Melody shut before heading off to Pilates. By the time Sophia was tucking her blond locks beneath a swim cap, the row was deserted.

The dark stationery slipped easily through the vents in the locker door. This time the card read "You are being interviewed." The reverse side listed tomorrow's date at 10 PM in one of the rooms in the basement of the Cowles Science Building. The only other information was the prescription of "Formal Attire."

Sophia was tempted to return in time to see Melody's reaction, but she knew better. She'd tarry in the pool and perhaps relax a bit in the steam room, ensuring Melody was long gone before Sophia re-entered the locker room. That would please the Elders.

 
Melody sighed as she walked back into the locker room feeling stretched, limber, and a little fatigued but overall excellent from her workout. The last week had been peaceful and ordinary; after she'd performed that last ridiculous stunt there had been nothing further.

Just a prank like she thought. It was almost a shame. But at least now she knew, and she could get on with life. The only exciting thing to happen since then was today, when she noticed the girl next to her in the changing room checking her out. It was flattering and a little risque, but that girl was gone now...she'd probably never see her again.

...Although she didn't really know about In Societas Rose, a little voice in the back of her mind piped up. She hadn't heard anything further and just assumed it was a prank but she didn't really know.

Frowning, Melody told that part of her brain to shut up and let her enjoy the rest of her day. She reached for the locker and deftly unlocked it before opening it with another sigh; whatever that had been about, it was over and she would never kn-

A black business card of stiff and heavy stock fell out as she opened her locker door and fell on the ground at her feet. Her mind blanked out and she stared at it, her mouth dropping open. Was that-it was! Here? Oh!

She snatched it up, looking around wildly. Had anyone seen? Who had put it here? The sound of a door opening made her jump and she pushed the card into her school bag, still hanging in the locker. She'd look at it later when no one was around.

Her heart pounded as she changed, deciding not to shower here but just get out as soon as she could and do so back at the dorms. She had to know what was on that card, what was next.

She felt a vague sense of "I told you so" from that little part of her mind.

~~~~~~~~~​

She almost hadn't done this. It was so stupid. This had to be crown of the prank, getting her to show up in "formal attire" in the basement of the Science Building and probably dump some nasty gunk on her. She was sure that was what was going to happen.

Which made the fact that she was going there all the more foolish.

Getting into the building itself could have been a bit tricky, since the building contained laboratories and expensive equipment and chemicals it was generally locked after the last evening class let out. Knowing that, however, she had gone in an hour and a half early so she could hide out in one of the women's rooms until it was close to time for her "interview."

She'd spent the whole time fretting; questioning her decision, going over why this had to be a prank, wondering who would be interviewing her and on what criteria, if she'd dressed appropriately, and then telling herself how silly she was for thinking there would even BE an interview. It was all a prank.

But really, was it? After all this effort and time...

Melody shook her head. She was here now. No second guessing. The ridiculously busty beauty had taken time to get ready for this supposed interview. She'd freshly showered and shaved her legs, and other places (out of habit by now), and put on make up to enhance her eyes, make her lips the same red as her hair, and add color to her cheeks. Her auburn hair had been washed that morning and had been religiously combed, brushed, and now cascaded over her right shoulder in an elegant drape.

She had dressed formally, as best she could with the clothes she had at hand. Melody was wearing a dark green dress with an ankle length skirt that was slit up tot he knees for range of movement and for teasing glimpses of her legs. It was belted with a thin leather band of brown leather with gold burnished buckle and accents. The dress was fitted over her stomach, flattering her flat, taut belly and appearing to narrow her waist a bit further, scooping out to contain her generous endowments, the dress having a single strap over her left shoulder, leaving the right bare and showing a delicious amount of pale, creamy skin. The overall fit was snug; enough to show off without being whorish, she felt. She wore a pair of three inch brown leather heels as well, lifting her ass and pushing out her chest a bit more for that classical look. Gold earrings gleamed in her ears, as did a thin chained necklace set with a fingernail sized garnet about her neck. A small handbag for the essentials, including her iPhone with the campus police on speed dial and some mace, and a short jacket in deep red completed the ensemble.

She checked herself over in the mirror. "You shouldn't be so worried, there's not going to be anyone to impress," she said to her reflection. She continued to inspect herself nonetheless. "This is just going to be a waste of time and you'll feel silly about it later."

Her heels clicked on the hallway floors as she walked through the darkened building. There were some lights, of course, but overall the place was dark and silent. She gripped her handbag tight as she carefully descended the stairs to basement of Cowles; her heart starting to pound and her stomach tight with worry and even a little fear.

Her bright eyes scanned the numbers as she walked past them. 0023. 0019. 0015. There. Melody looked up at Cowles 009 and swallowed nervously. God. She wanted to turn away and bolt. But running in these heels would be a nightmare and...she'd come this far. Even though it was just a prank, she'd see it through and could hopefully laugh about it one day.

She reached out and rapped twice on the door, wincing at how loud the sound was in the stillness of the now abandoned science building. Then she took hold of the door and opened it, stepping inside, "Good evening," her voice barely trembled at all, "I'm h-here for my interview."

Melody walked a few more steps into the room; the door swinging shut behind her in silence.
 

Yukio smiled as the door opened. The Elders had seen fit to let her lead the Interview. "Your voice and manner will put her at ease," she'd been told. Praise from an Elder was no small matter, so she was determined to prove them right.

The spare classroom wasn't scheduled to be used for at least another day, so they'd had plenty of time to set up. The desks had been pushed to the sides of the room and stacked, leaving much of the room empty. A single wooden chair sat near the center. A pair of tripods stood a few feet forward and to the side; atop each was a bright light aimed at the wooden chair, leaving it in a circle of light.

Yukio sat behind the teachers desk at the front of the room. Whoever sat in the chair would face her directly. To her left sat a short desk lamp which cast a soft white light on the small sheaf of papers on the desk. On her right was a small tripod mounted with a palm-sized video camera.

"Please step into the light," Yukio called out as the door opened. The vague outline in the doorway entered and the door swung shut behind her. Melody stepped into the brilliant beams by the chair, holding one hand in a futile attempt to hold back the glare.

Yukio wore her black robes and mask, leaving only her mouth and chin visible beneath the hood. They had thoroughly tested the viewing angles beforehand, so Yukio knew that the bright tripod lights would make seeing much of anything beyond the lights difficult. The pale glow of the desk lamp provided just enough illumination for Melody to see Yukio through the glare, but everything else would be completely dark.

"Oh, what a pretty dress!" chirped Yukio as Melody stepped fully into the light. Yukio's voice, much like her petite form, could suggest a child half her age when she wanted. She'd found that people felt relaxed around such cute and cuddly tones. Indeed, Melody smiled a bit at the compliment.

"Please, sit down," Yukio instructed. "I apologize for the lights, but we need them to be bright for reasons I'll explain in a minute. Don't worry, you won't mind them as much once your eyes adjust." That much was true, though it also meant that Melody wouldn't be able to see much beyond the circle of light.

When Melody had taken a seat, Yukio continued. "Excellent. Before we begin, let me tell you a bit about what to expect. Since you have chosen to accept our invitation - congratulations, by the eay! - you will become an initiate tonight. Yay!" Yukio clapped her hands together rapidly
the the wrists for a fee enthusiastic seconds.

"Of course, that's just the first step. As an initiate, we'll put you through several Trials to test your worthiness. Some of these will be formal, like tonight. Some of them will be completely secret, so you may never realize you were being tested. As an initiate, consider your entire life to be a test."

"If you succeed, you will be inducted. If you fail, then none of this ever happened. You have no memory of anything because we don't exist. And should you happen to remember something, you will regret it." Yukio allowed herself a quiet smile; somehow it was all the more disconcerting to be threatened in a voice like a teddy bear.

"Okay, let's get started. Tonight is just an interview. I ask questions, you answer them. Very simple. The lights are so we can get a good image on the camera." Yukio patted the camcorder next to her and a small red LED turned on. "The only things you have to do are speak clearly and tell the truth. Sound good? Excellent."

"One last thing before I begin. As an Initiate, you need to look the part, so we've got a little present for you. Sisters." At Yukio's command a pair of figures emerged from the darkness and stood just outside the light. One of them held out a gray robe. This too was embroidered with looping vines and leaves like Yukio's own, but it lacked the roses of the black robes. "This will be yours. Keep it hidden, but you will wear it to all our events unless told otherwise. Please put it on now."

Yukio waited a beat as Melody reached for the robe and started to don it. "I'm sorry, I forgot to mention that we don't wear clothes beneath our robes. Only lingerie and shoes. Please remove your dress and hand it to the other Sister before you put on the robe."
 
The light was used cunningly, just like the light at the Old Chapel. She could kind of see a shape beyond it; someone at the desk wearing a robe like that woman had but no more than that. The way it was set up, she probably wouldn't be able to see even once her eyes adjusted.

The girl's voice, because it did sound like a girl, was sweet and soft, reassuring and almost childish. It was nice but as she went on, explaining that she would be initiated but tested, Melody grew more worried and concerned. She wanted to say something; especially about being tested without her knowledge! How could she succeed if she didn't even know she was being tested or on what?

Of course, that might make this a test too! In fact, it almost surely was. But for what? And why?

She shivered at the threat; visibly shaken. Wh...they had contacted her and now they were threatening her? It wasn't like anyone would believe her if she did say anything! Her eyes were wide for a moment but then they narrowed, not angry but resolved. Whatever this was, she wasn't going to get jerked around emotionally.

She opened her mouth to indicate her understanding, as well as tell this girl to keep her threats to herself, when she spoke again. At the command "Sisters" two more figures seemed to materialize from the corners of the room and approach.

"Eeep!" She didn't scream of shriek, but a shocked squeak did burst out of her as they melted out of the inky blackness and appeared at the very edges of the light. She almost stumbled as she jumped, not used to such motion in her heels. Her heart was pounding so loud she swore the camera would pick it up and she put a hand on her chest before swallowing and looking at the offered garment.

It was beautiful; a fine, light fabric in a lovely gray and decorated with twining vines and leaves. The vines seemed to have thorn depictions here and there but there were no flowers on them, only an occasional bud. "Oh," she breathed, her fright and rebellion both side tracked for the moment. "It's beautiful...thank you."

She had put her arm in one sleeve and started to pull it on over her dress when the shrouded girl with the young voice spoke up again. Melody's jaw dropped open and she stared back at the dark clad figure. "Wh-what? You want me to-" She shut her mouth, as once the shock passed it was very apparent exactly what the shadow spokeswoman wanted.

Melody was breathing faster and her heart was pounding again; her face was red from more than her make-up. She wanted her to strip down, in the light and in front of the camera probably, so that they could all watch? Oh, God! What should she do?

What she should do is tell them to go to hell, throw that robe at them, and walk right out!

But could she do that? The other two were right beside and behind her; they could easily grab her. Her hand twitched towards her hand bag where her mace was waiting but it was closed and she'd never get it out before they were on her.

What should she do? Ohhh...she didn't want to, but...she shouldn't...but if she didn't then...what would they do? And she'd never find out what was...

Melody took a deep, somewhat shaky breath after a few moments, "All right." Her voice was soft and her face was now flaming red with embarrassment. "But I swear if this ends up on the Internet, you'll be the ones who regret it. I c-came here in good faith."

She stood up from her seat and laid the robe over the chair's back. Melody's hands trembled visibly as she lifted them to unbuckle the thin belt around her waist but she took another breath and the trembling reduced. The faint clink and jingle of the buckle sounded almost like a bell in the stillness of the room as she took it off and then handed it to the other Sister. Next she reached behind her and she swallowed again nervously. Her chest was heaving from her breathing and her fear. She found the zipper and closed her eyes before she pulled it down; the sound seemed to almost echo in the quiet of the room.

Then she pulled her hands back, one lifting up to slip the strap off of her shoulder. The dress fell off of her chest, catching around her hips and ass until she reached down to push it off the rest of the way. Her pale, creamy skin was bright in the lights shone on her; smooth, flawless, taut over supple and feminine curves and her flat stomach. She was wearing a matching bra and panty set in a bright blue; the bra seeming to strain almost to bursting from the effort of containing her huge breasts.

Knowing what it would do, Melody bent over to pick up her dress and folded it in front of her before handing it to the Sister who had taken the belt. She paused a moment in lifting the robe to don it again, "...My jewelry...should I take it off as well? I...want to do this right."

God, she was so stupid! She shouldn't want that at all!

Once the answer came, she nodded and obeyed it, finally slipping the cool, clean feeling fabric on and pulling the robe closed. It covered her but it was obviously strained around the chest; drawn tightly over her bosom. Melody then sat and inclined her head to the shadowy interviewer.
 

Yukio found herself glad for her mask. As Melody's dressed slipped off her shoulders and her lingerie-clad body was revealed, a warm flush crept up the petite Asian's neck. Her breasts, her abs, her hips - how magnificent.

Momentarily distracted, she almost missed it when Melody inquired whether she could wear her jewelry. "What? Oh, jewelry? Of course, feel free." Yukio smiled at the idea. A Sister or two she knew were occasionally known to wear nothing but jewelry beneath their robes.

When Melody sat down, Yukio could see that despite their best estimates, they'd not accounted for the girth of the first year's bust. Even tugging it tight, it gapped slightly. The blue of her bra peeked out at the top; down below, Yukio could make out a blue triangle between Melody's slender thighs. They'd have to get her a more accommodating one in future; still, the view for tonight was nice.

"Let us begin," Yukio intoned. "We'll start with something simple. What is your full name?"

Though her questions seemed simple enough at the start, the structure of the inquiries was actually quite carefully crafted. Initially Yukio asked the most basic of information: name, age, hometown, birthdate, parents' names, etc. Any student on campus had doubtless filled out forms with this same data countless times. That in turn made the answers flow easily, helping put the initiate at ease. Moreover, all of this information the Society already knew.

After a time, Yukio switched to slightly more in-depth questions about Melody's background: information about family, friends, school activities, medical history, As before, the Society generally knew most of these answers as well. All potential initiates were quietly investigated before they were ever approached by the organization. The Society's resources allowed them to delve into all manner of records, both online and off.

Consequently, the purpose at this stage was not to gain new information, but to give the initiate opportunities to lie. These more personal questions often touched on areas where the initiate's past was less than pristine, so the initiate would be tempted to shade the truth - to give the answer she thought the Society would want to hear.

Whenever Yukio encountered such a response, she'd tilt her head to the side and say, "Are you sure about that? According to my notes, that's not quite accurate." The initiate would invariably widen their eyes in surprise, pondering how in the world Yukio could know she wasn't being honest. Catching just a few of these fibs was all it took; the initiate would soon be too afraid to risk offering anything less than full-throated honesty.

Thereupon came the heart of the interview. The questions turned from mildly inquisitive to deeply personal. Loves, hates, dreams, fears, regrets. And particularly sexual. Virginity, experience, positions, partners, toys, fantasies, masturbation habits - all of it came pouring out.

It was hours later when Yukio at last finished. Glancing at Melody, she could see the first year had almost nothing left in the tank. The heat from the bright lights had left her brow studded with perspiration. Her eyelids drooped with exhaustion. The curvy redhead had spilled deep, dark details that no one else in her life knew. And now it was all on film.
 
Melody felt extremely exposed and vulnerable in the grey robe that refused to fully close over her curves and with those bright lights to fully illuminating her. She glanced to either side, trying to see if the interviewer's "Sisters" were still present but she couldn't make out anything with the glare of the lights ruining her vision to see into the blackness beyond.

The interview started easily enough. She blinked at first, listening carefully to the questions. This was all basic information and if this was really what it seemed, surely they knew all this already? "My name is Melody Amelia Wainwright and I was born in South Bend, Indiana to Roger and Dorothy Wainwright. My birth day is May 7th." She went through the rest of those questions with ease; her mind working at she answered. Why ask such easy things?

The questions grew a bit more specific and detailed from there, Melody starting to answer them at first out of the ease of answering the previous, fact checking questions. She blinked and then raised her brows, smiling just a hair. That was the reason for the earlier simple questions. It had relaxed her and opened her up. "Well," she said after a question about her family, "My parents raised me pretty well. My father is an attorney and my mother teaches at Indiana University. She's a professor of mathematics."

There was a rustle of paper from the darkness and the interviewer spoke again, "Are you sure about that? According to my notes, that's not quite accurate."

Melody's eyes widened and she blinked a few times. How did she-they...? "It is! She teaches mathematics for IU, though, at a few of the branch campuses, not the main campus." She was blushing slightly at having been caught, not in a lie, but in an exaggeration.

Melody found herself staying very close to the truth after that, for this block of questions, even about the distance between herself and her father after her parents' divorce. "I really only hear from him a few times a year," she said with a sad tone in her voice, "A card and a phone call on my birthday and Christmas, cards and money when I got perfect grades or won an award or a trophy...I got one for getting accepted to Blackstone too, with a hand written note, even. He was really happy about it."

It went on, moving into Melody's school activities and her medical record, as well as non-school activities and past times. "I did swimming and diving when I was in Middle School," she said with a smile, "though I ended up stopping both when I turned 16 and that's when I started chorus and picked up music." She shrugged, "I guess I didn't find sports that interesting."

Before she could go on, that voice interrupted again. "Are you sure about that? According to my notes, that's not quite accurate."

Melody blushed brightly this time. "How can you know about that? It's...it was private, and-!" She shook her head, "Well, I wanted to be a swimmer or a diver, I dreamed of going to the Olympics, but...but after the summer of my sophomore year..." She gestured at her chest in a vague way, "They really grew, and when school started up again, the coaches said they wouldn't put me on the team because I...I wasn't hydrodynamic enough. There was no point to my competing, I-I'd just drag the team down. They offered to make me team manager, but I didn't want their pity." Her cheeks were flaming, the blush continuing down her neck. "I regret that now...I should have done it, then at least I could have been a part of it all."

How could they know about that? No one other than her and her parents knew what the coaches had said! Did they? How did they know?

What else did they know?

They knew that she'd lied about knowing that her cousin Sue was a lesbian, even pretending to go out with her so Sue could slip off to see her girlfriend. They knew that she'd been pulled over for speeding twice but been let off each time with a warning and that once she'd gotten caught with a friend's weed but the cop just told her off and confiscated the stuff once he realized who her father was. They knew that she was on birth control. Melody was terrified by how much they knew. After a while, she gave up on hedging or glossing over anything or lying, even a little, about any of the questions.

She told them that she was terrified of snakes but found them erotic at the same time, that she was also afraid of being buried alive and had some claustrophobia. She told them how she loved music of almost all kinds, but disliked modern country and trance. She loved to dance but only ever did so in private; she'd even been tempted to enter an amateur erotic dance contest once. She told them about her dreams of modeling and being on the cover of Sports Illustrated, that she wanted to do more than just be pretty, that she'd love to play or sing with a symphony, or travel for a living and write or do a show about it.

By the time they got to the extremely personal and sexual questions, she was so awed and afraid, she just answered. It felt like she'd been being questioned for days.

"No, I'm not a virgin. I, uh, I lost my virginity two years ago, to my best male friend before he joined the military and went overseas." She shook her head, "I've h-had sex seven times, three times with him and four times with my last boyfriend." Her eyes were wide and slightly vacant as she answered. She should be blushing and embarrassed but she was just too tired for it now, mentally and emotionally. "I also, last year, made out with one of my friends from high school, Simone, but it didn't go further than that." She told them she'd sucked cock before and even given a titfuck, but had refused anal sex. She told them she'd had most of her sex missionary, but once her boyfriend had taken her from behind doggy style and she'd been shocked but loved it.

She told them in a numb voice that she was curious about other girls but still loved men, that she had fantasies about being with two men at once, of being gang banged, of being cum on by a group, of being spanked, that she'd looked at BDSM literature and was curious but never had the courage to pursue it, and that she even entertained the occasional rape fantasy. She didn't have any sex toys but she did masturbate about once a week, usually watching porn on her laptop or reading an erotic story. She'd written a few herself but never posted any of them anywhere. She suspected she was a sexual submissive and was secretly jealous of and aroused by sexy, outgoing women and the sluts in porn; wanting to indulge and be taken. She liked the stories with dirty talk especially. She confessed to a membership on an erotica site and that she'd even set up a fake online "identity" that she had occasionally used for cybersex with both men and women. She told them she fantasized about being a porn star or a high price escort, and stripping wearing a wig and a mask. She told them that she fantasized about being used by men and women both at a secret party, or giving a blow job to a man while he was driving. She had fantasies about incestuous father/daughter role plays (not with her own father though), or of playing an innocent girl taken or seduced by an authority figure. Or of passing a class by giving herself to the teacher or earning her way out of a ticket from a cop.

She told them of her fantasies and kinks, never before vocalized to anyone, thing she looked at on the Internet but knew she would never experience or pursue.

When it was done, she was haggard and exhausted. She had almost cried at several points but managed to hold back. Melody closed her eyes and shook her head, "I can't...I can't think of anything else right now." She licked her lips and then opened her eyes again; her gaze a bit firmer and more steady. "Is there more you want to ask?"
 

"Is there more you want to ask?" inquired Melody, her voice clearly tired.

Yukio jotted down a few last notes for her report to the Elders, then looked up to meet Melody's exhausted gaze. "No, I think we covered everything we needed for now. We'll be sure to let you know if we need anything more." Yukio reached over and flicked a button on the camera; the red LED record light faded out.

"You look pretty tired, Initiate," cooed Yukio sympathetically. "I suggest you go back to your room and get some sleep." She turned towards her left. "Sisters, please return the Initiate's clothes and help her to the door."

Her black-robed comrades materialized out of the darkness. One carried Melody's dress and jacket, neatly folded. The other gripped Melody at the shoulder and elbow to help her stand.
The second Sister (Yukio thought it might be Katya, but even she couldn't be sure now) then refastened the sash around Melody's robe. The robe closed now that she was vertical; only by a fraction of an inch, but as long as she didn't try to sit or run, it would suffice.

The first Sister (probably Sophia) handed Melody her clothes and guided her to the door. A handful of times in Society history, an initiate became physically combative during the Interview, hence the extra participants. Fortunately, Melody was docile, likely glad to finally leave the room and its torturous lights. She stepped out into the hall and didn't look back as the door closed behind her.

One of the Sisters locked the door and then flipped on the overhead lights. Everyone blinked at the change. Yukio stood up and stretched. "Glad that is over," she murmured. "I'm beat."

Katya pulled back her hood and ran her hands through her long, ebony tresses. "She seems rather, how you say, repressed? Such active imagination but so little experience."

Yukio smiled. If vampires existed, Katya should be their queen. With her pale skin, full lips, and delightful Russian accent, she was the epitome of sultry nightstalker. "Perhaps you can help her with that, Katya."

The Russian's eyelids drooped into a seductive gaze. "Perhaps, darling," she returned with a sly smile.

Yukio checked her cell phone, which she'd placed on silent mode. As expected, there was a text message from the lookout. "She's left the building and is headed in the direction of her dorm, so coast is clear," Yukio announced. "You two clean up the room and then head home. I'm going to try and grab a few hours sleep before my meeting with the Elders in the morning."

Yukio picked up the video camera and her notes. The classroom had a side door into an adjoining lab, so she left via that way. Just to be safe, she took an alternate exit to the building and took a course that went nowhere near Melody's dorm. Better safe than sorry.

~~~~~~
Officer Jamal Daniels whistled softly as he made his rounds. As a practical matter, this was mostly a waste of time. In the few years he'd worked campus security, he'd been pretty bored. Sure, a couple thousand young female students and you could expect pranks and hazing, but most of it was pretty tame compared to when he worked at a co-ed university. Those fraternity guys got into all kinds of dumb, dangerous mischief. These girls were a cakewalk.

The walkways were fairly well lit and he carried a large flashlight for the rest. He circled through the academic buildings, making sure all the exterior doors were still closed and locked. Boring and predictable, but at least the school paid well.

He rattled the door on the computer lab. Locked. Big surprise. He sighed and resettled the uniform ball cap on his head. He didn't care for hats because they sat awkwardly on his afro, but the Captain insisted everyone wear them while on duty. No matter that the only one he was likely to see at half past one was one of the other officers on night watch.

But to his surprise, turning the corner he spotted a grey-clothed figure walking slowly towards the residential side of campus. Probably nothing, but it was something different. He set off in a quick trot. When the person heard his closing footfalls, she turned. "Campus Security," he announced. "Please stop where you are."

Jamal got within arm's length of what was undoubtedly a student. She looked young and pretty, but didn't they all? A torrent of reddish hair stood out from dark gray of what was apparently some sort of robe. Jamal didn't think he'd ever understand female fashion. "Excuse me, Miss, but I need to see your student ID. What are you doing out by yourself at this hour? Is everything okay?"
 
The robe was comfortable but the fabric was not particularly warm, not helped by the fact that it wasn't quite big enough for her. It closed when she was upright, thankfully, but not by much and she was sure if she did anything more than a slow walk, it would flap open immediately.

So she walked slowly, carefully back towards the dorms. She felt exhausted and emptied and afraid. She'd told those women and that camera things she'd barely even known herself; dark, deep, dirty secrets. What would they do with it? Was...was her career over before it began? They could ruin her whenever they wanted!

She sniffed, shaking her head, determined not to cry until she got back to her dorm room.

Melody slowed further, almost to a stop as she heard a door rattle not far away, and then footfalls. A circle of light passed over the nearby walk and then on her. Oh, God!

Maybe whoever it was hadn't noticed her.

But the footsteps grew quicker and were moving in her direction. For a terrified moment, she thought about running. But in this robe and heels...and it would be stupid. Whoever it was would surely pursue her if she ran.

Her hand did go into her little hand bag, however, gripping her can of mace. "Campus Security," A strong masculine voice announced as the pursuing figure drew near. "Please stop where you are."

He was tall and looked nice, with the standard sharp Campus Security uniform and cap, though the cap rested high and awkwardly on his afro. "Excuse me, Miss, but I need to see your student ID. What are you doing out by yourself at this hour? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Officer, I'll get my ID out for you." She held up her purse and the hand in it, fumbling about a few moments until she found her small wallet. Melody pulled it out and opened it facing him; her ID should be right there. "I'm sorry if I alarmed you, sir, but I was out at an off campus party and I didn't realize how late it was. I'd gotten stuff all over my dress," she hefted the carefully folded bundle as evidence, "but I just had to get back to my room."

She knew she looked tired and bedraggled so she needed a reason for it. A long party might be a good one. She had thought for a fraction of a second about telling him where she'd been and the interrogation she'd gone through but...he wouldn't believe her. And even if he did, those people had her by the throat now. They had her secrets, such as they were.

Melody offered him as charming a smile as she could muster. "I'm sorry, Officer...Daniels," she read his name plate. "I know it was silly to walk home this late, and I should have just crashed there. But campus is safe, I thought, and I really just wanted my own bed." The buxom redhead sighed. "I-I'm not in trouble, am I?"

She shuffled her feet a bit, "Um, Officer Daniels, if I'm not in trouble and it wouldn't be any bother for you...would you walk me back to my dorm? I'd feel safer, I was actually starting to freak myself out."
 
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"I-I'm not in trouble, am I?"

Daniels gave the young woman a thorough inspection with his practiced eyes. Seven years working around young people in the heyday of living thousands of miles from their parents had given him a pretty good instinct for when they were up to mischief - or worse. This one wasn't giving him the whole story, but that wasn't much of an indicator. People naturally tended to get wary when a cop was looking down at them.

With this one, it was more looking at than down - she had some long legs under that robe. And that wasn't the only thing. Given by the strain of the fabric, this one had some major curves as well. And once you got past the haggard eyes and streaked makeup, she was beautiful. Hmm.

Daniels did a quick mental wipe. It'd been awhile since his last time with a woman, but allowing himself to even ponder the possibilities was a bad idea. Girls who attended this school came from all over the globe and all hailed from wealthy, influential families. One didn't dip one's toe into such dangerous waters on a whim.

Daniels reached up and adjusted the brim of his Blackstone Academy Campus Security ball cap. "Well, Miss... Wainwright, it is after curfew. You're not supposed to be out at this hour." He scanned her ID card with his handheld and handed it back to her. "Might not be safe at this hour all alone."

While technically that was true, as a practical matter, it was mostly hypothetical. The campus wasn't fenced, but there was nothing for miles around; she wasn't going to get mugged by some stranger out here. Moreover, the curfew was more a strong suggestion than a brightline rule. It was mostly a deterrent on mischief; students who stayed in their dorms at night tended to cause fewer problems. He could take her back to base and file a formal report, but it wasn't worth the effort.

Daniels leaned in slightly and breathed in. Perfume, but mixed with a slight tang of sweat. Maybe dancing at this party? Perhaps her gray outfit was some new fashion take on a toga. Or could be that there had been no party, just her and a lover? Whatever, he didn't smell alcohol or marijuana,so a trip to the infirmary wasn't needed. (School policy was to medically verify a drunken/drugged student had not overdosed rather than just assume they were only mildly under the influence.)

His handheld beeped. "No violations," he read aloud. "I suppose I could let you go with a warning. "

That elicited a sigh of relief from her. She then timidly responded. "Um, Officer Daniels, if I'm not in trouble and it wouldn't be any bother for you...would you walk me back to my dorm? I'd feel safer, I was actually starting to freak myself out."

"Of course," he said congenially. "I'd be glad to." Not that he would have trusted her to get there alone. He'd done this long enough to know that he might just have reached her before she got into mischief. He wasn't about to let her wander off on her own.

Daniels unbuckled the walkie talkie on his belt. "Dispatch, this is Daniels. I've found a student out here. Just a curfew violation, nothing more. Will be leaving my patrol sector to escort the student to her dorm. Over."

The walkie talkie crackled and a female voice followed. "Daniels, this is Dispatch. Copy that. Check in after you drop her off. Over."

"Roger that. Daniels out." He turned to Melody. "Okay, let's get going, Miss Wainwright."

The walk to her dorm was mostly in silence. He made a couple of attempts to engage her in small talk, but she seemed too tired and distracted to maintain a conversation. Instead he settled for letting her walk slightly ahead of him and sneaking glances at her plump ass.

When they at last reached her dorm room, he handed her one of his cards. "That's the number for our Dispatch. It's manned 24-7, so if it's late like this and you need to be out, call us. We'll be glad to send an officer to escort you." He stepped back so she could close the door. "You have a pleasant night, Miss Wainwright."

 
Melody worried for a moment about there being documentation that she was out when she wasn't supposed to be. His scanning her ID and reporting in, that would all be on record.

Of course, she'd just put much, much worse things on record than a curfew violation.

She smiled as he agreed to walk with her. It would be nice to have him as secure company but it would also, hopefully, allay his suspicions of her somewhat. She would love to think that he'd bought her story wholesale but she wasn't that lucky.

The walk back was a bit awkward. He did try to talk to her, but she was very much in her own head. What would happen with that recording? Who was watching it? Were they posting it somewhere? Who were those girls? What would be done to her now?

Her head was so full of questions that she barely noticed when they got back to her dorm. Melody looked up at the building and blinked, as if surprised to see it. "Oh, we're here already?"

She opened the door with her ID and stepped inside. Melody took the card he offered her and looked at it carefully. The redhead gave him a wan smile, "Thank you, Officer Daniels. You've been very nice to me. Um, if I call your Dispatch to get an escort...can I ask for you?"

Her cheeks flushed and she looked shame faced, "Just, you know, police and security can be mean and you're nice, so I'd like it if I was escorted by you." Melody then stepped inside and let the door start to swing closed, "You have a good night too, Officer Daniels."

What a strange night!

Melody made it back to her room; immediately kicking off her heels. She wanted to just fall on the bed and pass out but she had to do something first. She went to her laptop and spent another hour or so searching the Internet for herself; terrified that her interview would be put up on YouTube or something. She also sent e-mails to her professors, apologizing for being absent from class today (it was so late!) because she was sick.

Then she fell into bed, sure that with as worried and fraught as she was, she would never fall asleep.
 

Fatima wrinkled her nose as she entered Rosewood Hall. How she detested freshman dorms. Admittedly, little could compare the opulence of her father's palace, but even the modest accommodations for the upperclass students were significantly better than the first year counterparts.

She had criticisms for almost every aspect, but the bulk of her ire was aimed at the communal bathrooms. The other dorms shared one bathroom per two rooms, but the first year dorms typically only had one or two bathrooms per floor. The almost complete lack of privacy felt degrading to her.

The showers were the worst: one square room, tiled floor to ceiling, with shower heads and knobs mounted every few feet. Every day she'd had to bathe completely naked within arm's length of some other naked woman on either side and perhaps a dozen more around the room. At least they could claim the privilege of having Fatima's luscious, coffee-colored frame to admire. Fatima usually had little beauty to admire in return.

Of course what really set her on edge was the disruption to her morning ritual. Fatima's preferred means of greeting a new dawn was fingering herself to a shuddering climax beneath the shower's warm waterfall. Not only was the pounding water pleasurable on her skin, but it meant her rather explosive orgasms didn't leave a sticky mess to clean up afterwards. But in the freshman dorms, one had to shower at very odd hours to have the shared facilities alone. While she occasionally enjoyed performing for an audience, she preferred her hair, flat-chested observers also be male. Consequently, Fatima had spent most of her first year very, very frustrated.

Fortunately she wouldn't have to be here long. She made her way purposefully to the third floor and then down the hall to Melody's room. Mid-morning on a school day, the hall was deserted as expected. She also knew Melody was in Calculus at this hour, but she knocked out of habit. Hearing no answer, she used the passkey she'd been given to gain entry.

Still the same old cramped rooms, Fatima noted. Melody had made some efforts to make it homey, but there was only so much that could be done with the painted cinderblock walls. "Like a damn prison," she muttered.

Fatima set her Gucci satchel down on the bed. From within, she withdrew two parcels - each wrapped up with brown paper and tied up with black ribbons. She set each down on the bed where they were easy to see.

The larger package would be patently obvious upon opening. The grey initiate's robe inside was just like the one that Melody had received days earlier, only this should actually fit her. The thorough examination of Melody under the bright interview lights had also provided a better approximation of her measurements. This one accorded her considerably more fabric around her bust and hips, so the buxom redhead shouldn't be on the verge of spilling out the top if she took a deep breath.

The smaller package, however, needed a little explanation. Fatima placed the dark stationery with the silver script atop it. It read, "You skipped your classes following the Interview. If one long night prevents you from performing your duties the following day, then you lack sufficient stamina. Each Tuesday and Thursday after your last class, you will swim 20 lengths in the Athletic Center pool. The enclosed suit should help with your hydrodynamics."

The Elders had been quite displeased to learn of Melody's cutting class. The Society did much of its activities under cover of darkness, so there would be more such late nights in the initiate's future. But her failure to attend her classes the following day flew in the face of the Society's emphasis on maintaining appearances. An initiate who could not uphold her normal life while also serving the Society would never make it to Induction.

Still the Elders chose to discipline Melody rather than dismiss her outright. Fatima thought it clever on their part to pick a punishment drawn from Melody's own Interview. Consequently, they'd also had crafted a custom swimsuit for the first year.

Fatima had examined the suit before wrapping it up. Clearly it had been designed for utility and not fashion in mind. The dark navy material extended down to the lower thighs like an Olympic swimmer's. Fatima doubted whether any amount of springy fabric could mold Melody's massive chest into something even remotely hydrodynamic, but the taut cloth in the suit's upper torso definitely aimed to make a valiant effort.

So now in addition to her Pilates classes, the first year would be be swimming laps every week. Fatima still had her doubts about Melody's joining the Society, but at least the girl would get some good exercise in the attempt.

Fatima arranged the parcels and accompanying card on the bed, then quickly departed. She'd had her fill of all things first year for today.
 
"One long night? It wasn't just one long night! It was a psychologically damaging and emotionally draining interrogation, you assholes!" Melody was glaring at the now familiar heavy and elegant black stationary and the fine, silvery script on it. "I can stay up for...aggh! This has all been so frustrating!"

The redhead flopped into her desk chair, glaring at the second of the two packages she'd found waiting for her. She was having second thoughts about all of her actions up to this point. Well, more like twelfth thoughts at this point, but still.

The new robe was actually very nice. She'd felt a little happy seeing it and slipping it on, as though there was some care and consideration being shown to her. The freshman had felt that maybe this wouldn't be as terrible and frightening as it seemed.

Then she'd read the note that went with the other package. How dare they impugn her stamina! She was plenty tough! If they hadn't been mind fucking her all night, she'd have been fine the next day! How did they expect someone to react to being dragged through their whole life, especially the dark parts, and confess all their inner secrets? Be all sunshine and rainbows the next day?

She should just throw out that package and forget all this. They'd let her walk away from what that shadowy interviewer had said. She didn't need this grief from them!

But then...she'd fail. She'd have quit.

But, but it wasn't a fair contest in the first place! And she still didn't know the rules or the stakes or anything!

It would still mean she'd given up. And that she'd never know or even have a clue as to what the hell this was all about.

Her blue eyes went back to the still wrapped package again. She hadn't swam 20 laps in years...sure, she did swim now and then just out of love of it, but she felt so embarrassed remembering what had happened back then that it wasn't often. 20 laps would be torture at first.

She sighed and got to her feet, picking the package up off the bed and pulling the ribbon to untie the knot. She was just too proud. "But you're not getting the best of me," she said to her unknown assessors and tormentors.

~~~~~~~~~​

The warm air of the pool area was heavy with the acrid scent of chlorine; familiar and reassuring in a way, as much as it burned a bit at first. Melody walked about the pool side, pausing only to lay a large, fluffy black towel down up on one of the stands, and made her way to the start of the lap lanes that were set up.

It was the same day, and colors of the setting sun painted the sky beyond the high, wide windows of the Athletic Center pool. The card had said every Tuesday and Thursday after her last class and she assumed that meant today was the day to start.

She shifted the suit they'd given her a bit; feeling uncomfortable and awkward. The busty redhead also stood out in the clearly custom made suit, the few other girls in the pool area whispering to one another as she passed. The suit was an Olympic style competition suit; long over her thighs and most baring her back save for a few strips of joining fabric here and there. The reinforced and cunning cut design of the fabric mashed her breasts almost painfully down against her chest but it had given her less of a profile. She still would never be on any swim team ever or be able to compete, but she felt a little less top heavy and ungainly.

She got to the end of the lane and took a few deep breaths before stepping up to the edge. She would have loved to use the starter block at the end of the lane but normal students weren't supposed too; only those on the school swim team. She sighed and then took up a rusty, but technically proper stance and dove into the water.

It was warm, liquid heaven and a happy sound became a stream of bubbles before her head broke the surface. Her red hair was dark now with wetness and fanned out behind and around her like a living banner the color of dried blood as she went into a steady, quick paced breast stroke.
 
Katya coolly observed Melody's form as she awaited her turn on the 10 meter diving platform. The first year's form had improved over the past few weeks. She was not a particularly swift swimmer, but she needed far fewer rests between laps than when she had first started.

From what Katya had heard through the Society grapevine, this first year had also performed reasonably well on the other trials as well. Most of the recent ones had been fairly minor demonstrations of her ability and willingness to follow instructions. One week she'd had to wear a different hairstyle each day. The following week she'd had to do a dozen cartwheels in front of the dining hall.

Melody had also attended her first appointment for a waxing at the campus salon. (With a couple thousand young women in residence on a remote island, the school administration had acknowledged decades ago that a full-service salon was as crucial as the infirmary.) The results had not actually been verified by a Society member, but Katya thought it quite titillating to imagine the busty freshman with a smooth pussy save for a slender strip of crimson fuzz down the middle.

A couple of the trials had been entirely secret. What most likely seemed like random, ordinary situations had been not so random. The Society also liked to know how an initiate behaved when she didn't know she was being watched.

Based on these successes, the Elders had decided that Melody was ready for a more difficult challenge. Katya had already slipped the dark invitation into Melody's gym locker. Tomorrow morning at 6 AM, she was instructed to appear at the Old Chapel while wearing her school uniform. Katya was already looking forward to it.
 
Weeks had passed, and it was strange how time made the unusual familiar and even welcome. More tasks and tests had been set before her and Melody was sure she'd nailed each one. Well...she'd at least passed. The notes hadn't stopped coming, nor had she gotten another remonstration and an according permanent task.

There was no regularity to the appearance of the regal black cards with their fine calligraphy and often idiosyncratic or seemingly meaningless tasks. Some of them had even been fun, even if they were challenging. The cartwheel one had been embarrassing, sure, but the hardest part had been staying upright for the requisite number of cartwheels! She'd never been a gymnast and her curves threw her balance out of whack a good bit.

She'd fallen on the soft grass after completing it on the third attempt, giggling like a fool and too dizzy to stand up for a few minutes. She was embarrassed, and there were people who'd teased her about it, but at the time...it had been fun.

Not all of them were that fun, and she often found herself wondering if some of the seemingly normal or benign interactions she had with people were tests too. Once she'd been walking to class and found a discarded bag of fast food tossed out on one of the sidewalks. It wasn't until after she'd picked it up and thrown it away that she wondered if it had been a test. It did seem a little obvious if it was.

Her friends at school seemed to think she'd gone a little crazy. They were all talking and hanging out with her less; none of them had asked her why she'd done all these things yet, but when it happened she knew it would be a problem. She wasn't going to tell them. She wasn't sure what she'd say, but it wouldn't be the truth.

She'd come too far.

Melody still wasn't sure what was going on or why all of it was happening or if she liked it, really, but she'd done too many things not to take it to the end and find out. Whatever else they'd done, In Societas Rose had made sure she'd take all their messages and tests seriously.

As such, when she found the card in her locker she was both surprised and curious. It was a summons, something that hadn't happened since the interview, and it was at the Old Chapel where this had all started. Had she reached a milestone? Were...were the tests over? And what would happen tomorrow?

~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Melody had gone to bed early and gotten up at 4AM to shower and make sure everything was just right in her appearance. They only wanted her wearing her school uniform but still. She might as well at least appear polished in a school uniform.

There were almost no students up when she grabbed a quick breakfast at the dining hall, surprising the staff there she thought, and then made her way across the campus. It was serene and almost eerie, the only noise the sounds of the sea as she walked through the seemingly empty school grounds.

Her uniform was newly clean, she washed it yesterday after getting the card, and the green skirt swished softly as she walked, her white blouse flattering her ample chest and the button vest over it done up properly. A pair of clean and dully shiny black dress shoes set off the whole affair rather nicely, she thought.

She had brought her bag as well, in case whatever task she had took long enough that she'd need to go to class. She had almost put her Initiate robe in it too but decided not to. They'd told her school uniform, and she was only to wear the robe if specific clothes weren't mentioned.

Melody looked up and blinked. She was standing in front of the doors to the Old Chapel already. She took a deep breath, and then another. Then she raised her hand and knocked on the door before trying it and finding it open. Just like that first time.

Pushing it open and again wincing at the creak of a hinge, Melody walked into the chapel and let the door swing shut behind her. "Good morning," she said as she walked into the room about ten feet. Even if she couldn't see them right away, she was certain she wouldn't be alone here.
 

"Approach, Initiate!" Fatima called from the front of the room, her regal posture clear beneath her dark robes. Though the sun had only recently crested the horizon, its bright glow was already sending a cavalcade of colors from the stained glass on the east side. This alleviated the dimness of the the Chapel interior sufficiently to make electric lights unnecessary.

A small table had been set out midway down the center aisle. Upon it rested a small wooden box. As Melody neared, Fatima instructed. "In light of your performance these past weeks, the Society has a small present for you. You'll find it inside the box."

Fatima waited as Melody reached inside the box and withdrew a small object. Made of dark plastic, the item was vaguely egg-shaped, with the base slightly wider than the top and both ends heavily rounded. Approximately two inches in height and perhaps two thirds that in girth, the exterior surface was smooth to the touch and uniform in color. The only other distinguishing feature was a plastic coated wire attached to the base of the device and forming a loop with itself a few inches long.

Fatima's teeth gleamed white beneath her dark mask. "Please put your present on, Initiate." She paused, then added. "Or to be more accurate, please put it in."
 
The light was dazzlingly beautiful and magnificent as it poured in through the stained glass; all manner of colors bathing the chapel and the woman clad in black who stood in front of the windows. That regal voice commanded and Melody found her feet moving her before she thought about it.

It was the same voice as the one that had commanded her all those weeks ago in the self same chapel; she was sure of it.

Melody blinked and smiled a little, hesitantly, at the idea of the Society giving her a present. She was doing well! Great! Maybe soon, she'd-

Then she opened the box and her eyes narrowed and then she tilted her head to one side, lifting it out of the container. What...was it?

Then that majestic voice spoke again and Melody did a double take, first at the item in her hands, and then back at the speaker. "Put it...in? I'm sorry I don't understand, Mi-"

And then she did.

Melody almost dropped it in her shock. Her eyes went as wide as dinner plates and she goggled at the robed and masked woman, her mouth opening silently a few times without words.

A vibrator?

A sex toy?

What the hell? And she was supposed to just...right there? In...in a church?

She was paralyzed with anger, shame, interest, mild arousal,and indignation for about ten seconds. Then she swallowed and started as though someone had splashed cold water on her.

This was insane! She should...she should throw it at her! Or rush the bitch and clobber her or...argh!

But they'd have thought of that. They knew everything about her, and this...this must have happened to others before. It was another test.

They wanted her to chicken out or be outraged. They didn't think she'd do this.

Melody took a deep breath and licked her lips, "The Society should know I don't do this for just anyone," she answered tartly, but she was moving the item under her pretty green skirt as she said it.

Trying to keep her modesty as much as possible, Melody snugged her panties down within the skirt's hem. She fumbled with the two inch long toy, the smooth plastic a bit slippery, before managing to trap it against the fabric so that the tip, "HhnnN!" So that the tip pressed against her pussy.

She closed her eyes and let out a soft, whimpering moan and pushed it up into herself. "Nnmp! It's...it feels so cold in there!" She shivered with delight, feeling suddenly dirty and naughty and knowing she really was. She'd just shoved a sex toy into her pussy in a church on the orders of nameless and faceless strangers for no reason other than their approval.

God. Why did that make her feel hot? And ashamed, yes, but...

Melody pulled her panties back up, snugging the vibe into her and securing it at the same time. "I...it's in."
 

Fatima couldn't resist smiling broadly as Melody fumbled in her own panties. The buxom redhead made such amusing expressions as she slid the device inside her pussy.

"Nnmp! It's...it feels so cold in there!" the first year whined.

"Give it time, Initiate!" countered Fatima. "It will warm up."

Melody continued to futz around in her panties. Fatima thought she could now understand why such an attractive girl had such little sexual experience. If Melody showed so such butterfingers with something so slender and compact, she must be even worse with a man's cock.

At last, Melody hesitantly adjusted her skirt over herself and declared, "I...it's in."

"Good," said Fatima. "As a secret organization, In Societas Rose expects its members to conceal themselves in plain sight, even under stressful conditions. Therefore, you will conceal our present within you for the rest of the day without letting anyone around know. Naturally, you will be observed to see how well you can hold your secret. Should you succeed, you will return here tonight at 6:00 PM and be permitted to remove it."

Fatima resisted the urge to chuckle. Melody was clearly less than pleased at having to carry the device within her pussy.

"Of course," Fatima continued, "this task should require only a modicum of discipline to achieve. But In Societas Rose holds its members to a higher standard than that. Consequently, we have a slightly more . . . intense challenge in mind."

Fatima smiled mischievously as she withdrew a small electronic pad from her pocket and held it aloft. Melody stared back at her, initially confused. Fatima used the time to turn the remote's dial to level 1 - the lowest setting. Just as realization began to dawn in the first year's face, Fatima used the remote to activate the vibrator inside Melody.

 
She was supposed to have that inside her the whole day! That was...crazy! It would start to get sore or hurt or something, wouldn't it? She didn't voice those concerns though; already getting a sense of this masked woman looking down at her from the way she was speaking.

Hmph. At least she wasn't hiding!

Well, it was a weird and perverted test...though she kind of liked that part of it, but she'd do it.

Then, however, that regal and commanding voice spoke again and Melody could hear the smirk in her tones. The freshman's blue eyes widened as Fatima held up the remote, uncertainly in them. What was...oh!

Before she could speak or even fully register the realization that had rippled through her mind, the robed and masked woman demonstrated. Melody started and jerked slightly, a slight huff of air slipping past her lips as the object within her suddenly thrummed to life against her sensitive and rarely stimulated inner walls. Oh! Oh, God!

She was going to have it in all day and it would do this?

Melody had never felt anything like it! It was good, but, ohhh.

She blinked a few times, mastering herself. "I...I see. And I'm sure that it won't be on all the time and that...you'll switch around the strength too, to try and catch me or break me, so that I'll fail."

Her cheeks were flushed from the stimulation and she was breathing slightly faster. However, after the initial stagger, her voice was firm and her gaze did not waver. "I won't fail! I'll be here at 6PM and I will pass this test." She paused a moment and then inclined her head, "...Thank you, for your instruction. And thank the Society for the gift."
 

Fatima coolly eyed the taut ass of Melody across the gym. Her Pilates class was using large inflatable balls to work on balance and core strength. Melody was presently trying to do push-ups while balancing on the ball. Beneath her leotard, her butt and thigh muscles quivered with the strain.

Fatima's yoga class was located on a different set of mats a dozen yards away. Fatima had chosen a position which made it easy to glance in Melody's direction as the dark-haired Saudi went through her poses.

Melody had been dismissed this morning from the Chapel and had proceeded with her usual day. Fatima had passed off the remote control to Nami. Sophia and Yukio had each had it in turn before it had been returned to Fatima.

Based on the various reports, Melody had done quite well. Each person had used the remote on her in a public situation: in class, in the halls, at lunch. Melody had exhibited some squirming in her seat and some elevated breathing, but nothing that attracted the attention of others. She'd even managed to give a 30-second explanation of a calculus homework problem while the vibrator quietly pulsed within her.

Still, Fatima didn't think the first year had been fully tested. Official protocol was to start off at level 1 and then dial it up slowly to a mild stimulation. Fatima recognized the value in starting slow; anything too fast would feel like a punch to the groin. The goal was to demonstrate that you could overcome distraction and control your libido, not to prove your pussy as tough as leather.

But the cap of Level 4 seemed low to Fatima. Melody was receiving special treatment even being considered as a first year. Should this wunderkind not have to go below the bottom third of levels to prove she was worth early consideration?

Thus, as Melody focused on her exercises, Fatima turned the remote to Level 1. She dialed slowly through the settings till Melody was at Level 4, but then kept going. How would Melody handle Level 6?
 
Melody was pushing herself harder than usual in her Pilates class; working up a sweat and getting her heart rate and her breathing up. That way, when it happened again, she wouldn't have to worry to much about people noticing.

The whole day had been torture; delightful, sexy, pleasure inducing torture but it was so all the same. Over and over during the day, she'd feel the now warm plastic toy inside her start to quiver and hum; vibrations rolling through her warm, wet sex and spreading throughout.

It felt so good! And it was maddening! Always in public, always around others...which did make it feel even better somehow, but she was so afraid they'd notice or she'd get in trouble!

It would grow and grow in her; more and stronger vibrations rippling through her and making her want to moan and touch herself. But she had stayed strong. She hadn't buckled or caved; nothing more than some squirming and slightly faster breathing.

Thank God for Pilates and yoga, to help with that.

She'd even had to talk in a class when it happened and her voice didn't even quiver! It had been difficult, all of it, really, but she felt both proud and frustrated. Proud because she was sure she was passing the test, and frustrated because the teasing vibrations with time in between had left her incredibly horny and sensitive. God, she wanted to...to cum so badly!

When it started up again, Melody shivered and took in a deep breath. She knew it would come; Pilates class was just too good an opportunity to embarrass her for the Society to miss.

Her breathing picked up more but the physical exertion of the push-ups let her defray the growing pleasure and tension; an outlet for the energy. God, it felt so good! She lowered her head, licking her lips and praying that the smell of her pussy didn't give her away.

The vibrations grew stronger and stronger, Melody moving with careful precision and focusing on the task at hand. Don't be distracted. Don't draw attention. Don't let them beat you!

It grew stronger and stronger, the redhead nibbling her lower lip. God! So much! But it would be over soon, this...it hadn't gotten stronger than this all day. She was almost safe!

Then her eyes went wide and she bit her lower lip to keep a gasp from escaping her. Her insides thrummed and sang with new intensity. Fuck! It was going higher! She'd thought, assumed, that it could only go so far! Ahh!

Melody wriggled a bit on the ball, taking a few shallow breaths. God, oh, God! She closed her eyes, her fingers splaying on the floor as she paused in the up position of a push up.

Control yourself! Don't let them beat you!

She let out a soft whimper as she went down into the push-up, then let herself gasp as she raised herself again. It would work, blending it into the exercise itself! Melody kept up the steady pace of her push-ups, her increased breathing disguised in the effort of them, her toes curling and uncurling in her shoes where no one could see.
 
Fatima grunted as she tilted her hip and held the advanced pose. She could justify it as a verbal reflection of the difficulty of maintaining this angle, but that wasn't the entire cause. Her attempt to push the initiate over the edge appeared to be failing. After at least a few minutes at Level 6, Melody hadn't done anything sufficiently overt to call attention to her situation.

Fatima could not even claim that Melody was clearly numb to the sensation. Fatima had observed the first year at these sessions before. While Coach Dumas always gave a thorough workout, Melody was usually far smoother in her actions. Today she was keeping pace with the class, but clearly straining to do so.

Moreover, when the class all flipped over to do alternating leg lifts, one would have to be a blind man not to see Melody's arousal. The first year's nipples were perhaps even more ridiculous than her bust size. Even from Fatima's distance they looked as thick as quarters. No, larger; maybe even half dollars? Granted, Melody wasn't even the only girl in her Pilates class showing some hardened nubs; with all that warm blood pumping as you sweated and strained, it was hardly uncommon for a woman to get "worked up" during a workout. But Fatima knew that in Melody's case, she had some vibratory help.

Much as she preferred not to admit it, Fatima had to acknowledge that this first year had potential. To endure this level of sexual stimulus without causing a scene showed a strong will. The Society prized such attributes in its initiates. Perhaps the first year truly was worthy of consideration.

Granted, Fatima could force the issue by dialing the intensity still higher. But Fatima wasn't that foolhardy. Few initiates ever completely failed this test; getting this far in the process required mental endurance that made today's trial rather bearable. If Melody were to lose control now, Fatima would be called to account for the trial conditions. If the Elders felt Fatima had disobeyed by pushing Melody too far, Fatima's own membership could be in jeopardy. The very idea scared her.

When next Fatima's hands passed by the remote, she twisted the dial down to 4. Just as with starting the trial, one didn't shut off the stimulation immediately. Fatima gradually scaled the device down to lelt Melody adjust, a last shutting it off entirely. Fatima sighed. Melody would be tailed for the remaining hours of the trial, but this was the last stimulus of the day. Provided that Melody kept her cool and didn't remove the device, she'd pass the trial when she returned to the Old Chapel tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Coach Dumas stroked his chin with his right hand as he surveyed his Advanced Pilates class. Like the near-skullcap atop his head, he kept his beard very closely trimmed. The dense, dark curls rubbed against his fingertips as he evaluated whether his students had had enough.

At last, he clapped his hands together. "Tres bons, tres bons! We finish for today."

There was a chorus of muted sighs of relief from the dozen young women. He'd worked them hard today, so they were all hot, tired, and sweaty. But then it was well known that one didn't sign up for any of Dumas' classes if you wanted an easy workout. African by ethnicity and French by birth, Dumas had nearly two decades with the Ballet de l'Opéra de Paris; one didn't achieve that without fearsome discipline. And despite well into his 40s, the muscles beneath the dark coffee skin were lean and taut.

He supervised the girls as they put away the equipment. "A place for everything and everything in its place," he said, his French upbringing quite evident in his accent. When everything was stowed away, he dismissed the class and followed them out of the gym.

The girls all headed for the locker rooms while he headed for the Athletics Department just beyond. But as they began to file inside to shower and change, Dumas uncharacteristically called out to one. "Miss Wainwright, follow me please."

Dumas continued down the hall and into the Athletic Department without looking back. He had no doubt that his command would be obeyed. Indeed, when he entered his small but neatly-kept office and turned, he found the first year following a few steps behind.

"Sit," he directed, pointing to the two chairs opposite his desk. As the redhead complied, he closed the door behind her, then took his seat behind the desk.

He gazed impassively at her for a moment. She was assuredly an attractive young woman. Definitely one of the curviest he'd seen, yet also undeniably fit. Not the strongest student in his class, to be sure, but she held her own. At least, usually.

"Mademoiselle Wainright, your performance today . . .," he began, waving a disapproving finger, ". . . it concerns me. Your form was rushed, lacking focus. And you seem to struggle where before you did not. Your breath, it comes heavy. Even your walk is stiff, lacking grace, placing every step as if you fear you might fall."

"Look at your attire." He gestured towards her leotard. "To be sure, I make all my students sweat, but you are, how you say, drenched?"

Dumas tilted his head and clucked his tongue. "No, no, no, is not good sign. Such appearance concerns me, Mademoiselle. So I ask. Are you ill? Do you have pain? Or perhaps you study too much and sleep too little?" He paused, pondering her. "I also know that students at this age sometimes like to, how you say, experiment? Perhaps you try something and it did not agree with you? I know young ones sometimes worry to be found out, but I assure you that I am no police. Better you visit the infirmary than suffer, no?"

I worry that you are unwell. Perhaps you should visit the infirmary? I do not like students to miss my class, but is not good to strain the body when you are ill."
 
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