… checks out the excursions noticeboard.

Trixie paused to read the excursions, ignoring Hendricks’ impatient huff.

The board listed a ski trip with images of snowy peaks and cozy chalets, a surfing trip boasting crashing waves and sunlit beaches, “Acteon” with a cryptic note about a “medieval realm of chivalry and submission,” and “The Vanilla Alternative,” described only as an “immersive exploration of control and surrender.”

No clear details, just tantalising hints that felt like an express path to achieve the school’s twisted agenda. Trixie’s mind raced—Acteon and The Vanilla Alternative sounded like IVR realms, but she needed more to go on, and Hendricks was her only immediate source.

“Move it, girl! I have work to do and can’t abide lollygagging!” Hendricks snapped, but Trixie spotted a pen dangling from a string beside the noticeboard, a sign-up sheet pinned beneath each excursion’s flyer.

Her heart quickened—putting her name down could lock her into one of these realms, but it might also be a way to dig deeper, to find a crack in the IVR’s facade. She needed specifics, and fast, before Hendricks dragged her to the headmaster.

“What’s Acteon?” Trixie asked, her soprano voice sharp, testing the waters. Hendricks’ scowl deepened, but she paused, glancing at the board.

“Acteon’s a medieval IVR—knights, castles, slavegirls learning their place through strict discipline. Sign up if you want, but you’ll bend the knee there, girl.”

Trixie’s stomach twisted, but she pressed on. “And The Vanilla Alternative?”

Hendricks’ lips curled slightly. “A BDSM club IVR. Whips, chains, learning to serve with pleasure. It’s intense, Miss Humpsalot—perfect for stubborn ones like you.”

Trixie’s pussy clenched at the words, the IVR’s cruel programming sparking unwanted arousal, but her mind latched onto the possibilities—either realm could provide a way out or make things worse for her. The pen dangled, waiting for her choice.