An application error

For a moment the two of you sit silently across from each other. Ms. Ophelia looks at you, almost studying you, with an expression somewhere between annoyance and interest. You can’t decide if she wants you to say something first or not.

“Well…” Ms. Ophelia finally says. “, your transcript shows that you’re reasonably intelligent, Mr. McCoy. So tell me, have you noticed anything peculiar from your short walk across campus?”

“Um… there seem to be a lot of girls here.” You answer, not knowing what else she could be talking about.

“Precisely. And do you know why that is, Mr. McCoy?” She asks.

“I guess girls in this area tend to have higher grades for getting in… ma’am.” You say. This conversation has started to become increasingly uncomfortable.

“Be that as it may, incorrect. Here, peruse this brochure while I finalize a few things with your schedule and I’m sure you’ll understand.” She says as she slides a packet across the table and then begins typing on her computer.

You pick it up, and see that it appears to be an ordinary brochure. A picture of the school, while inside the paper contains different information about the curriculum. You read through the whole thing, still not quite understanding. Ms. Ophelia clearly sees your confusion.

“The whole thing, young man. Even the name of the school.” She says, never taking her eyes off of her screen.

You look at the front of the brochure once again, and again see the name of the school. “Ms. Magnolias Institute for Outstanding Academics: A Private University for Exceptional Women.” Once again you…

“Wait, this is a-?!”

“Exactly, Mr. McCoy, this is a private college for girls. Only girls. And yet, here you sit.” She says, a hint of a giggle in her voice.

“I’m sorry, clearly there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. My parents signed me up for this college, if you’ll just let me call-”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. The papers are all filed and submitted, and besides, what about all those grants you’ve earned?”

“Yeeaaah, what about them?” you ask.

Ms. Ophelia frowns. “I’m afraid they’ve already been accepted by this school. If you choose to transfer colleges now, you won’t have any of the financial aid you’ve worked so so hard for…”

“What!? There’s no way!” you yell. She basically ignores you.

“You’re a very fortunate young man, Heath McCoy. Most high school graduates these days need to go tens of thousands of dollars into debt to attend a private institution such as this. Yet, you’ve received incredibly generous grants to spend your time here. Would you really throw that all away and put that kind of financial burden on yourself and your parents? Besides, it would mean admitting someone on our staff made a mistake as well, which is unacceptable.” She says.

“What, so I’m just supposed to throw away all of my grants and take an off-year cause of a mistake you won’t admit to?” You ask, starting to get upset. Ms. Ophelia sighs, before standing up and walking around the desk. She stops next to you, before sitting on the desk and laying a hand on your shoulder. You can’t help but notice her grip is a little tight.

“Of course not. We fully intend to provide you with a dorm, food, and education like we would any of the female students.” She says.

“You… you do?” You ask.

“Of course we do. Like you said, it would be unfair for you to delay your career and go into such financial burden due to a mistake on our behalf. A rather silly one at that, one of the staff misread “Heath” as “Heather” in a rush to get her work done.” She says. She leans in close to your face, and you can’t help but notice that her outfit leaves a lot of her cleavage on display. You hope she hasn’t noticed you looking. “You should feel lucky. This school is known for producing brilliant minded young women. There’s no reason to suspect we can’t turn you into a brilliant young man as well.”

“T-thank you, ma’am.” You say, your mind trying to process all that’s happening while also trying to ignore how good this woman's perfume smells. She releases your shoulder and lightly pats your check, before standing up again.

“Your schedule has already been made, your dorm room has been assigned, that just leaves one thing: your uniform.” She says, and again you feel like she’s hiding a laugh as she talks.

“I’m not gonna have to wear a skirt, am I?” You ask. This time there’s no question, she lets out a chuckle.

“Of course not. It’s actually strictly forbidden in the handbook for males to wear any part of the female uniform. Long story.” She says. She walks over to a folding screen. “Come behind here and disrobe, and I’ll gather what you’ll be wearing for your time here.”

You blush, and stutter out a couple of noises. You feel your pants stiffen in the front for a reason you’re unsure of, before she speaks again.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be peeking on you, Heath.” Something about her inflection and her use of your first name only makes you even less coherent, but you get up and walk behind the screen all the same.

“Everything, Heath. We have strict rules for undergarments as well.” She says.

“Y-yes ma’am.” You manage to quietly stutter out, and in spite of your reservations, you begin to remove your clothes. You’re too confused at this point to argue or think clearly. Confused and aroused. You can’t seem to get your erection to go down, and as your mind drifts to images of Ms. Ophelia pulling the screen away to get a look at your body, you feel yourself twitching down below.

“Erm, why exactly do we have to wear uniforms, Ms. Ophelia? I don’t remember seeing other colleges I applied for require uniforms…” You say as you slowly disrobe yourself, wondering why such a thing as strict uniform rules could even exist in a university.

“I guess I’ll share with you a brief explanation; Back when I was studying abroad in Europe, many of the universities there required the students to wear uniforms during schooling hours. I found that the students there had increased productivity and higher grades compared to colleges in the states, and part of that was the professional nature of the campus, attributed to the uniforms. Think of it like an office job, you wouldn’t be able to wear anything you’d want while working at an office, right Mr. McCoy?”

Her logic sounded reasonable to you, but part of you thought it was still a bit strange. But you guess you could spend a couple years in a nice uniform. The thought of the high-quality cloth against your skin sounds nice compared to your relatively cheap t-shirt and jeans.

Finally down to just your underwear, you work up the nerve to slide them down, and you get visual confirmation that you’re fully erect right now.

“Glad to see you’re excited, Heath, but do try to control yourself. It’s going to be a long four years.” Ms. Ophelia says, and you nearly jump the rest of the way out of your boxers. For a moment you think she really did peek, but then you notice that you can see Ms. Ophelia’s silhouette through the screen, and realize that she can likely see yours. Your blush returns as you quickly turn to face the screen, preventing your cock from casting its shadow. “Well I was going to ask if you were almost done, but that’s become apparent. Toss your clothes over and I’ll hand you your new clothes.”