St. Emilia's Academy for the (Sexual) Education of Proper Young Women

St. Emilia's Academy for the (Sexual) Education of Proper Young Women

A college for upper-class girls is also a breeding ground for debauchery.

Chapter 1

Abigail stepped out of Professor Mathison's office and closed the door behind her as quietly as she could. She leaned up against it just for a moment to catch her breath and compose herself. She didn't dare stay longer, though, because the professor was still inside and she didn't want him thinking that she was hovering around his office waiting for him to leave. Down the hall she went, brushing her hair with her hand and making herself look as proper as she could again.

The sun had already gone down by the time she stepped outside, which suited Abigail just fine. Unfortunately for her, there was a visitor waiting for her right by the door, just out of her field of vision.

"Hey!" Matilda said, just loud enough to scare Abby out of her wits without anyone else on campus hearing. She pushed her face right up to Abigail's with a knowing look on her face. "How were Professor Mathison's office hours?" she teased.

Abby went bright red. "They were very helpful," she said. "We talked about my lab work on the psychology paper that's due next week, and he gave me some really helpful tips about--"

"You've got cum on your chin," Matilda said with a smile.

Abigail flushed, gasped, and covered her chin with one hand. "No!" she said.

"I'm kidding," Matilda said. "But, like, I didn't know you did it until you just basically admitted it right there. Call me a more Sherlock Holmes. Or like, Sherry Holmes. I can't wait for the Hollywood producers to come to me with the big bucks so they can reboot my story." Matilda was American, in that American way that confirmed all the stereotypes about self-assurance and blabber-mouthiness. But that could have just as easily have been the fact that her family was colossally rich, descended from the oldest of old money in the New World, which meant that her family was still new money by European standards.

"We didn't..." Abigail paused. No matter what she said, no matter how she phrased her very specific very technical denials of what had happened in that office, she knew that she would be stretching the truth at least a little bit. She spoke cautiously. "We didn't do... it." She said.

Matilda grinned. "So what did you do?" she said.

"I don't want to talk about it!" Abigail yelped.

"I would," Matilda said. "Mathison is so fucking hot. But whatever, you do you babe. Now come on, I've got something to show you."

What's next?

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