sometimes the classes were integrated, but when the lights went out… that was it: lockdown. Tonight was dance night. After being with the same-old, same-old people, Amanda was ready for some diversity.
“So what are you wearing tonight?” her tribe mate Monica asked, standing in front of her own closet.
Amanda shrugged her shoulders and continued to peer into her closet, hoping for something she hadn’t seen before to magically appear or for a new combination of pieces to fall into place. The novelty of skimpy clothing had started to wear off. One could only do the short miniskirt and black leather bustier outfit so often.
No such luck. And then she thought about it: Claire’s clothes. Sure they were built differently: While Amanda boasted plenty in the cleavage department, Claire was more stylishly graceful (flat). Still, she remembered a particular red dress that she’d seen the sometimes shy Clarissa eyeing, but that she’d never worn.
Although it had been a few weeks since Claire had disappeared in the night, no one had been around to clean out her locker. Amanda found this a bit odd, but it certainly worked in her favor. Giving Monica a conspiratorial glance, she crossed over to Claire’s locker and opened it up. On the inside door, she’d taped a photo of her and her fiancé.
“Wonder why she left this behind?” Amanda said aloud, fingering the photo. Maybe she’d keep it as a memento of her friend.
“Don’t know,” Monica said, “probably forgot that she put it there. And, if she was going home, she wouldn’t take the school’s clothing, right?”
“Makes sense,” Amanda said.
She sorted through the hanging dresses, easily finding the flashy red number. It probably would have looked fantastic on Claire, if she would have allowed herself to wear it. Whoever had picked out the clothes, and for some reason Amanda had a feeling that Ms. Lucy played a big hand in the selection, knew what would have looked good on the budding dominatrix.
It also would look good on her, too, and it would probably garner some attention from Reed. There was no way that he was going to miss her wearing this dress – what there was of it, she thought, as she held it up against her body.
A slow wolf’s whistle rang out, and she looked up to see Clyde admiring her. “Now that’s what I call a money maker,” he said. “You better save a dance for me.”
* * * *
Sometime after dinner, the mess hall had lost all its “mess” status and had been transformed in a fairy’s wet dream. Rainbow-colored gossamer hung from the ceiling in billowing streams. Sapphire, garnet and canary-yellow softened lights added to the ambiance. Two side walls had been pulled back, leaving one side of the room completely open to the outdoors. The area’s night-time fog blanketed the outside quad and rolled indoors. The combination made it feel like they were floating through a magical wonderland where any adventure or fantasy could take place.
No wallflowers clung to the walls. Instead, they all swayed with the intoxicating rhythm of the music. Amanda could feel the beat vibrating through her body. Most of the party-goers had chosen to wear dark colors or black. Her dress stood out like a splash of blood in a swirling sea of sharks. She’d come looking for some attention, and she’d received plenty of it. Too much, in fact.
After dancing with one partner after another, an oasis of bodies pressed up against her, pushing her into the next person, and she’d escaped to the refreshments table. She’d barely gotten there, feeling the soothing coolness of the pineapple punch tempt her taste buds, when a voice spoke from behind her.
“Will you dance with me?”
There was no doubt that since the moment she saw him during orientation, Mandi had had a thing for Reed. Despite any thoughts of avoiding him this evening, and somehow making him pay for his inattention, her body immediately responded to him.
She turned, taking in the
“So what are you wearing tonight?” her tribe mate Monica asked, standing in front of her own closet.
Amanda shrugged her shoulders and continued to peer into her closet, hoping for something she hadn’t seen before to magically appear or for a new combination of pieces to fall into place. The novelty of skimpy clothing had started to wear off. One could only do the short miniskirt and black leather bustier outfit so often.
No such luck. And then she thought about it: Claire’s clothes. Sure they were built differently: While Amanda boasted plenty in the cleavage department, Claire was more stylishly graceful (flat). Still, she remembered a particular red dress that she’d seen the sometimes shy Clarissa eyeing, but that she’d never worn.
Although it had been a few weeks since Claire had disappeared in the night, no one had been around to clean out her locker. Amanda found this a bit odd, but it certainly worked in her favor. Giving Monica a conspiratorial glance, she crossed over to Claire’s locker and opened it up. On the inside door, she’d taped a photo of her and her fiancé.
“Wonder why she left this behind?” Amanda said aloud, fingering the photo. Maybe she’d keep it as a memento of her friend.
“Don’t know,” Monica said, “probably forgot that she put it there. And, if she was going home, she wouldn’t take the school’s clothing, right?”
“Makes sense,” Amanda said.
She sorted through the hanging dresses, easily finding the flashy red number. It probably would have looked fantastic on Claire, if she would have allowed herself to wear it. Whoever had picked out the clothes, and for some reason Amanda had a feeling that Ms. Lucy played a big hand in the selection, knew what would have looked good on the budding dominatrix.
It also would look good on her, too, and it would probably garner some attention from Reed. There was no way that he was going to miss her wearing this dress – what there was of it, she thought, as she held it up against her body.
A slow wolf’s whistle rang out, and she looked up to see Clyde admiring her. “Now that’s what I call a money maker,” he said. “You better save a dance for me.”
* * * *
Sometime after dinner, the mess hall had lost all its “mess” status and had been transformed in a fairy’s wet dream. Rainbow-colored gossamer hung from the ceiling in billowing streams. Sapphire, garnet and canary-yellow softened lights added to the ambiance. Two side walls had been pulled back, leaving one side of the room completely open to the outdoors. The area’s night-time fog blanketed the outside quad and rolled indoors. The combination made it feel like they were floating through a magical wonderland where any adventure or fantasy could take place.
No wallflowers clung to the walls. Instead, they all swayed with the intoxicating rhythm of the music. Amanda could feel the beat vibrating through her body. Most of the party-goers had chosen to wear dark colors or black. Her dress stood out like a splash of blood in a swirling sea of sharks. She’d come looking for some attention, and she’d received plenty of it. Too much, in fact.
After dancing with one partner after another, an oasis of bodies pressed up against her, pushing her into the next person, and she’d escaped to the refreshments table. She’d barely gotten there, feeling the soothing coolness of the pineapple punch tempt her taste buds, when a voice spoke from behind her.
“Will you dance with me?”
There was no doubt that since the moment she saw him during orientation, Mandi had had a thing for Reed. Despite any thoughts of avoiding him this evening, and somehow making him pay for his inattention, her body immediately responded to him.
She turned, taking in the
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