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“You said we were going to breakfast together. I assumed that I’d still need to serve—”
“Go put your uniform on.”
“And don’t keep us waiting,” Syn tells me before I can respond.
By now, I’ve had plenty of practice at getting changed in record speeds. There are days when being late to my classes is guaranteed, but that time has dropped considerably over the last few weeks after spending all my time running everywhere.
As I head upstairs to change, my mind is racing again, trying to guess what the punishment is. To be fair, being made to sit with them—with Syn—will be torture enough, but I doubt they’d see it that way.
I pull on my jacket and head back down. Halfway down the stairs, a thought hits me, plummeting into the depths of my stomach. Is this another opportunity for Syn to fuck with my food? If I’m not serving them, who is? And what are they serving?
Pausing on the last step, I fight back the nausea and the urge to run. The timer counting down to my exit sped up last night. There’s only three weeks until the end of the semester, and Christmas break starts. With what happened last night, I’m not sure I’ll make it to the start of finals.
It’s Syn’s birthday next weekend, and if I don’t go tonight, I’ll bet some big, dramatic execution at his birthday party will be the best present he can get.
I need this week to get that camera set up in his room to get on his computer. Which means, I need to suck this up and deal with—
“Lift up your skirt.”
Gemini’s instruction is the last thing I’m expecting, and I just stand there, staring dumbly at him.
“The reason we’re all here right now, is because of your inability to follow instructions,” Syn says, irritated. “Do—?”
I lift my skirt up.
This uniform is not the same one that had been provided to me as part of my scholarship at the start of the semester. Although I got that back when I found my suitcases, I’ve continued to wear the clothing he’s given me—even if I’d rather wear a pair of pants instead of the skirt that’s too short to sit comfortably in—including the pair of white lace panties.
“You can take them off. You won’t be needing them,” Gemini tells me.
Feeling Syn’s eyes bore into me, I don’t hesitate as I pull my panties down, letting them fall to the ground so that I can step out of them.
The punishment is going commando?
The short skirt means I’m really going to have to be careful when I sit, but there’s a tablecloth already covering their table in the dining hall. But it’s not even close to what I was expecting. I take the last step down and start walking towards the closet where my coat is hanging.
Gemini steps in front of me, grinning manically at me from under his hood. “Now you need to put these on.”
He pulls his hand out of his hoodie, thrusting something crimson at me.
I take it from him, confused, until I unwrap the bundle of red fabric.
Panties.
Panties with a thick waistband to support the small matching red box on the side.
Panties with a rather realistic looking—if not for the fact it was the same shade as the red flag Syn’s got sailing above him—cock attached to the inside.
“Don’t look so disappointed,” Gemini tells me. “I had that specially made with an exact replica of Syn’s dick. You don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
Syn folds his arms as he lets out an exasperated sigh, but he continues to glare at me, not Gemini.
I’ve seen Syn’s cock once. Twice, if you include the video Gemini was watching. In neither occasion was I in a state to be able to pay attention to his cock or even tell if it really is a replica. That’s not the thought running through my mind, however.
Nor is how Gemini got that molding, if it is true—though Syn’s expression doesn’t hint towards anything, suggesting he believes what Gemini claims.
As for Syn’s feelings, if he had any, maybe I’d care, but I’m not thinking about that either.
“You want me to… wear… this? Outside?”
