To the Dinning Hall

With classes finished for the day, I decided to grab a bite at the dining hall before heading to the Director of Housing's office. On my way there, I noticed a gym to my right with a grand glass entrance. A box sat curiously in front of it.

Take a Panty, Leave a Panty

Exhausted yet accomplished, a tall futa exited the gym wearing snug tight, light blue, high-waisted leggings paired with a matching sports bra that featured a green underbust band with the Victoria logo. With a satisfied sigh, she tossed her sweat-drenched panties into the box.

Why would anyone want someone else's used, smelly panties? I mean, what would you even do with... Oh! A whistling breeder, trying desperately to be inconspicuous, moseyed up to the box, snatched a panty, and bolted away.

Hmm. I guess that's a pretty safe and discrete way for women with an... affinity for distinct smells to explore different aromas... freaks.

The dining hall was something out of a movie. A towering ceiling, adorned with intricate crown moldings, stretched overhead. Mahogany paneled walls were decorated with ornate portraits, showcasing the Companions of the Whore Hero, Kockaterina the Great. A symphony of clinking cutlery filled the room.

The food was very fancy and alien looking, a far cry from anything I'd ever seen in Baulen. I grabbed only the most normal-looking items. My tray consisted of celeriac & apple soup with a bread roll, butternut squash lasagna, and pecan pie crowned with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon for dessert.

Sitting down at a nearby table, I realized I was next to the smart dark-skinned girl from financial planning class. She was in deep thought devouring a physics textbook. While reaching for my soup, a question sparked in my mind.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but for the pre-meal blowjob, do I need to find my assigned futas, or can I just fellatio in any futa before eating?"

"What the ffff-HAHAHAhaha!" she choked, wiping a tear from her eye. "Okay... okay, I haven't laughed that hard in ages! Who told you that?"

"my f-futa." I admitted sheepishly.

"And you fell for that? W-wow!" She extended a hand, stifling a chuckle. "Sorry, I shouldn't have laugh. And no... you don't have to give anyone a blowjob before you eat. I'm Jordan Wood, by the way."

"Its okay," I replied, shaking her hand. "I'm Billie. Billie Bottoms."

"Ahh. I remember you from FP class. So Billie, I have to ask, where are you from exactly?"

"Uh Baulen."

"Baulen? Your from a break away state! And you chose to come here?!?!"

"Y-yes," I stammered. "Well, it's a long story..."

I spilled my entire backstory: my home life, Radio Free Baulen, the application to Falika, everything. When I finished, Jordan stared at me, her face twisted in horror.

"Billie," she began cautiously, "Radio Free Baulen... it's funded by the Empire, you know. They're basically a mouthpiece for the Throbbian State Department."

My face flushed. "W-w-well, I think they offer a more balanced perspective than anything we get in Baulen! You don't understand what it's like. The insane politicians and the monosex media shove their meathead masculist agendas straight down your throat!" The dining hall turned quiet. My frustration was... louder than I intended. I don't know why I got so heated. This isn't like me at all.

Shamefaced, I attempted to lighten the mood with a joke.

"... and I normally like things being shoved down my throat," I said with a **** laugh, hoping to bridge the awkward gap. "I'm sorry. I just get a little... passionate about things back at home."

"I get it. Its a sore subject."

Jordan slid a red bookmark inscribed with the text "I Don’t Watch Porn. I Read It, Like a Fucking Lady" into her textbook before closing it and looking back at me.

"Look, I'm not trying to shove my dick in your mouth. You made your own decision to come here, Billie, and I won’t judge you for it. I just never thought a male outside the Empire could be this submi... I mean traditional."

"Oh! Thank you. I try really hard to."

Jordan gave me a strange look, her eyebrows cocked slightly, but then she softens into a small smile. We continued chatting about random topics, our conversation meandering like an aimless stream.

"Mmm... teeth!" Jordan mumbled through a mouthful of some strange, creamy dish she called uni risotto.

"Teeth?"

Jordan swallowed, setting her spoon down. "You know how girls always say, 'Cover your teeth when giving head'? Well, they’re wrong. A little bit of teeth. Just a millimeter. It'll make her go crazy."

"Really? Wow! I have to try that on my futas."

Jordan cracked a giddy grin. "Oooo! Futas? As in more than one. I didn’t peg you as the cheating type."

"Oh, cheating!?!? No, no, no never," I fumbled out shaking my head. "I-I was assign two futanari roommates... at the moment. That not common?"

Jordan pouted then tilting her head in bewilderment. "No, that’s... strange. I've never heard of anyone having more than one roommate in the modern era."

"How come?"

"Well... back in the day, decades ago, everyone used to have three roommates: a futa, breeder, and sissy. Remember, imperial universities like this one are the cornerstones of the Empire. They exist to shape the ideal citizen, and by extension, the ideal family. And before the 60s, sissies weren’t capable of reproducing.”

I blinked, perplexed. "Why weren't they able to make babies?"

Jordan raised her hand and made a snipping motion with her fingers, her expression tinged with disdain. "Because before synthetic endocrinology, the only way to stop pubertal testosterone and prevent virilization was... barbaric. Castration. But once better hormone therapies came along, sissies could remain fertile. Over time, the idea of a futanari allowing herself to be fertilized by a bounded male was destigmatized, for the most part. Nowadays, the majority of modern families in the metropole just have two parents."

"So, two parents is normal now? Just like in Baulen."

Jordan nodded. "Yup. But, of course, conservative institutions like Falika only switched to the two-roommate model like ten years ago."

"Huh. Wow! Jordan, you're so smart!"

Jordan looked stunned for a second, her cheeks blushed a rich mahogany then gave me a sly smile. "Thank you. I do try."

"Sooo... I have another question," I began as a twiddled my thumbs. "Of course, I would never do this, but... what is considered cheating here? Because I've watched shows like Lacey's Secret Garden, and it was very unclear what actually counted as—"

"Lacey's Secret Garden?" Jordan interrupted, rolling her eyes. "That’s what my grandma watches." Her kinky curls convulse with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Anyway, to answer your question... technically, no one's been obligated to fuck their roommate for the past ten years. But its in the same way I'm 'free' to study whatever I want," she said, tapping her nails on the cover of her physics book. "But let's be real, this school's not going to accredit a sissy a physics degree and your expected to be in a 'Fully Committed Pre-Bounded Relationship Development Program'."

She said that last part with some exaggerated twang in her voice. I couldn't tell who she was trying to parody, but it was drenched in animosity.

She paused for a moment, her posture relax. "And Cheating? Well, that's all about perspective. From a futa's perspective, it's simple, you can't fuck another futa."

"As for breeders…" She rolled her eyes again, her voice almost mumbling. "I don't know why anyone would want to fuck dickless women. They're self-absorbed, egotistical, there always complai—"

"Uh, Jordan?" I interrupted, sensing she was spiraling.

She blinked, as though snapping out of a thought, then gave me a tight smile. "Right. Well, that's kind of a gray area. As long as there's no vaginal sex, that's 'reversed', it's normally not considered cheating." Her voice dropped slightly, tinged with frustration. "And for sissies? Nobody cares. Its like dogs fucking. You can be in a relationship with as many sissies as you want, and no one would bat an eye." She hesitated, her expression hardening. "Of course, none of this matters. Everyone sees us sissies as inherently unfaithful anyway."

"Really? That sucks," I murmured, pouting dishearteningly.

Jordan simply shrugged. "I mean... they're not wrong. Especially during the first week, when room changes are still easy. You'd be surprise how much good head can get you in this place."

"But w-w-what about ceciliary? A sissy chief duty is to her own futa, and after her, all ladies." I asked, my voice trembling slightly as a betraying unease crept in.

Jordan shook her head as if I'd said something ancient and irrelevant.

"Ceciliary is dead." she stated matter-of-factly. "And honestly, you can’t blame us. No sissy wants to get stuck with some brute futa who treats her like your sister's hand-me-down sex doll. Personally, I believe that the school deliberately pairs 'bad sissies', any sissy not afraid to speak her mind, with futas like that."

My eyes dilated. A single drop of sweat landed on my collar. "Bad sissy?" I whispered out. Is that why I was... am I a bad sissy?

Jordan placed her hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about me. I think the school tried to pair me with a brute, but it... backfired. My roommate and I have a special arrangement.” She grinned.

"Uh, Jordan, I need your advice on this." My words tumbled out of the can and split on the table. "Something happened with me and my roommates—it was probably not a big deal, probably my fault—but I started crying, and my RA, who is a breeder, saw me and convinced me it wasn't my fault and that I should change roommates and move in with her for the time being. But then I saw that video in financial planing class—now I'm wondering if I'm a sexbot—I'm really confused about what to do, and… am I a bad sissy?"

Jordan blinked, clearly trying to process my rambling. "Billie…" she said gently, taking both my hands in hers. Her grip was warm and steady, grounding me. "I didn't catch all of that, but it sounds like you're dealing with a lot." She continued. "To me, it sounds obvious you should... Wait! You said your RA is a breeder?"

"Yes?" I answered, my voice shaky.

"And she wants you to room with her?" Jordan's eyelids curled in suspicion. "Hmmm. Well, that does change things."

She straighten her posture. "Billie, listen. This is a decision only you can make. You need to think about how you feel in all of this. Forget what anyone else might expect or assume for a moment. What do you want?"

My eyes spiraled with all the paths laid out before me. Jordan gave my hands a reassuring squeeze.

"I know it's confusing," she affirmed, her voice steady. "But you have to trust yourself here. Whatever you decide, it's your choice to make."

Suddenly, Jordan's phone vibrated on the table. She glanced at the screen, then stood up, grabbing her physics book.

"Sorry! I’ve got to head to my next class. It was... interesting talking to you."

"Oh, okay. Um, thank you!"

Jordan smirked as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "And remember: BBB."

"BBB?" I asked, confused.

"Breeders Be Bitches." Jordan shot me a cheeky look.

"What? I’m not sure about that," I questioned. "I’ve met some good bree—"

But Jordan was already walking away, calling out over her shoulder, "BBB!"

I took the last bites of pecan pie while heavy thoughts gnawed at my mind.