I'd Hate to Use the Word "Gooning," but...

Mallory North

Mallory absentmindedly roamed the house her parents left her as she gradually remembered what all she would need to pack—planning for trips had never been her forte, always letting her mom do the packing for her when they went on family vacations. Her parents aren’t dead, mind you, they had simply reached retirement age, and had done as many of the aged upper middle class had done before them—moved to a condo in Florida. Luckily for Mallory’s living conditions, they chose not to sell their reasonably nice house in the Kansas City suburbs, letting her live there rent-free as long as she took care of any utilities, insurance, and property taxes. She fully understood how lucky she was. After all, she knew that most parents would be furious if their daughter had dropped out of college to work part-time while taking dance lessons in the evenings.

Unfortunate timing had resulted in her freshman year being upturned by a pandemic part-way into her second semester. While many students had been able to make the adjustment to online classes, Mallory had been one of the unlucky ones who struggled to keep up with all of the sudden changes. What had started as a temporary break from school while she found a job to keep her afloat quickly turned permanent as she found herself greatly preferring the pace of her work. She had found an easy data entry job at a lab—decent pay, good insurance, snacks on Wednesdays, and she had quickly made friends with the guy who had trained her, a rather plain-looking fellow named Adam.

However, as to be expected with many of the jobs that had been created due to the necessities of the pandemic, the lab started cutting positions as things wound down, resulting in both her and Adam being laid off. She felt an occasional pang of guilt for not staying in touch, but always brushed it aside rather quickly. After all, they were just work friends, and it had definitely passed the point where it would be awkward for either of them to randomly reach out to the other.

Returning to the task at hand, she gathered her daily essentials before wondering aloud how many changes of clothes she should bring.

“Do bed & breakfasts offer laundry service? I’ve never stayed anywhere like that for this long before,” Mallory pondered as she picked out different outfits. “I’ll also have to make room for my workout clothes… or I could just wear them as my normal outfits while I’m there! Two birds with one stone!” She mentally applauded herself for her flash of inspiration. It should be fine, she reasoned as she moved some more modest clothing aside in favor of extra sports leggings, yoga pants, and sports bras, as well as some comfy t-shirts in case she needed to cover up a bit more, it’s not like everyone will be dressing to the nines, anyway. It’s a dance class—I’m sure they’ll all be dressed in workout gear.

A pamphlet laid on her bedside table, advertising a 90-day intensive course by HH Danse Dramatique, held at the Lily Garden Bed & Breakfast. Mallory had been excited when she got the pamphlet in the mail, and signed up immediately. She was certain that this would be what she needed to finally get past some of the roadblocks she’d hit in her dance journey (roadblocks such as general clumsiness and a complete lack of rhythm). After all—the business’ name was in French, so it must be sophisticated and high-quality.

“Let’s see… 5 days’ worth of workout clothes and 2 nicer outfits just in case. Worst-case scenario, I can just drive to the nearest town with a laundromat.” She gazed upon her work with more pride than was necessary or earned. “Plus, now that I don’t need as many outfits… I have room for some more fun things for when I’m back in my room.” Her eyes glinted with a sense of mischievous glee as she pulled out a large, locked chest from her closet—filled with items and outfits of a far more intimate nature. As much as she enjoyed using these at home, she took an extra thrill in hiding them amongst her luggage, and she knew she’d enjoy it even more later, when she’d be at risk of being discovered if she wasn’t careful. As she finished packing her additional items (which had taken even longer for her to pick out than the things she actually needed to pack), she rocked back and forth on the edge of her bed, her face flushed with arousal.

“I should be doing fine on time, right? Surely I won’t be late even if I take care of myself real quick…”

A few hours later

Mallory made a mad dash for the door of the bed & breakfast—she was running late, and she really hoped this wasn’t one of those courses that kicks you out if you miss the first class. Frantically glancing about the lobby, she spotted a sign directing all new students to meet in the pavilion at the center of the garden. Continuing her dash through the double doors leading out back, she could hear some discussion coming from the large marble structure ahead of her.

“Don’t worry—I’m here! Sorry I’m running beh—AAAAHH!!” Mallory’s apology was interrupted as her foot caught on the last step leading into the pavilion. Tumbling across the first few feet of the checkered marble floor, she winced in pain as she looked up toward the odd group assembled there. The faces looking back at her all bore expressions of concern—though the redhead mostly just looked annoyed, and the sole man present seemed more surprised than anything else. Oh hey, Adam’s here. Didn’t think he’d be into dancing, she briefly thought before a tall, elegant woman in white sauntered over to her, extending a hand to help her up.

“Miss Mallory, I presume? While I appreciate the apology for your tardiness, being a few minutes late is hardly something to worry about to the extent of injuring yourself. Besides, we’ve had another guest arrive a few minutes early, so we hopefully shouldn’t have any issues staying on schedule.” The woman glanced at a pocket watch as she helped Mallory to her feet, though her expression seemed to suggest that they might, in fact, have issues staying on schedule. “Welcome to the Lily Garden. I’m Sera the manager of this establishment, and I hope you’ll find your stay here quite liberating. Now, why don’t you sit down and introduce yourself to the group.” Not wanting to waste any more time contemplating about why Sera had placed the emphasis on “liberating,” Mallory turned to the chair Sera had gestured toward and sat down next to a motherly woman dressed in slacks and a cardigan. Feeling a little bit more hesitant about the clothing she had packed, Mallory nodded toward Sera, ready to continue.

“Excellent. Now then, Mallory, please tell us your name, age, occupation, cup size, and most recent sexual encounter.”

“I’m Mallory North, 22 years old. I work part-time as a…” Mallory paused her introduction as she realized something wasn’t quite right about the set of questions she’d been asked. Before she could voice her concerns, Sera waved her hand, and Mallory continued in autopilot. “Barista while taking dance classes at night. I’m a C-cup, and my most recent sexual encounter was earlier today—I got horny while I was packing some of my toys, so I stopped to masturbate before I left to come here.” Mallory regained her senses and covered her mouth, mortified at what she had just divulged.

“Yes, I suppose that would explain your tardiness. You were actually meant to arrive before Miss Elise—though I suppose you did, in a sense.” Sera said, pointedly ignoring the glare she was receiving from Elise. Both Erica and Cecilia had to stifle a chuckle at Sera’s joke, Cecilia more successful in that endeavor. Meanwhile, Mallory awkwardly locked eyes with her former coworker.

“Hey… long time, no see, Mal…” Adam tried, unsuccessfully, to break the ice.

“Yeah, um… so how’ve you been, Adam?”

“Hold on a sec—you know her, Adam?” Erica chimed in, curiosity and suspicion written on her face.

“Yeah, she and I worked together. That was like 3 or 4 years ago, though.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a bit now, and don’t you think it’s a bit weird? You know everyone here, so far. I’d be willing to write it off as coincidence if it was just me and Aoba, but the bitch, the professor, and now the new girl makes 5. It’d be weird for 5 random people that I know to show up randomly at the same place, and I’m pretty sure I know way more people than you do. No offense.”

“No, you’re right. This is definitely unusual,” Adam concurred as Aoba also nodded along, beginning to look concerned. Damn, I really hope this isn’t some weird dream, Adam complained inwardly, I really need this job.

“Now, now. No need for concern. I’m sure everything will make sense once everyone’s here and we’ve begun the evening proper. We only have a few more guests that we’re expecting, so you’ll just have to be patient until then. Speaking of which, the next one should be here n—”

“WUAAGH!!” Sera’s segue into the next guest’s introduction was cut short by a startled cry, accompanied by the sound of someone falling into the bushes.