The first lesson.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the dormitory window as you stared at the delicate garment laid out on your bed. The pale pink panties seemed to glow in the early light, their lace trim mocking you. Emma's note beside them was simple:

"Wear these today. No exceptions."

Your fingers trembled as you picked them up, the silky fabric sliding between them. The waistband stretched as you reluctantly stepped into them, the cool lace clinging to your skin in a way that made your face burn. You quickly pulled your uniform trousers on over them, but the constant whisper of fabric against your thighs served as a relentless reminder.

At breakfast, every movement felt amplified. The way the lace shifted when you sat down. The barely-there pressure when you walked. You caught Emma watching you from across the dining hall, her smirk telling you she knew exactly how aware you were of the forbidden underwear.

When you passed her in the hallway between classes, she leaned in close. "Don't worry," she whispered, her breath warm against your ear. "This is just the beginning." The promise in her voice sent a shiver down your spine.