The Miss Mypell Boarding School For Proper Girls was a prestigious location, one renowned for its ability to turn even the most incorrigable and misbehaving of girls into proper young ladies by graduation... or, at least, that was the idea. While on the surface the girls seemed to be growing into the guidelines set- soft spoken, prim and quite modest- for nearly half the population it was more of a facade meant to keep the teachers and headmistress of their back. There seemed to be this unspoken agreement between the lot of them; sit down and shut up for a few years, then finally get that diploma and promptly forget everything they ever tried to drill into your head.
Of course, even with such a laudable goal, there were definitely... tensions... that arose from weeks and months spent carefully playing the part of a good girl. In the past it had led to fistfights in the cafeteria, outbursts and screaming matches that had only served to get everyone involved in troubled. Over the last six months, however, a couple dozen of the students had come up with an... alternative... method to let off some steam.
It happened every second evening, after hours. Though the school staff were meticulous about checking the girls' dorms when it was time for lights out, and checking again when morning came, they were significantly more lax about the eight or so hours in between. As such, at around ten o'clock, the girls would quietly creep from their rooms and sneak to one of the rear stairwells, headed not for the ground floor, where the classrooms and facilities were, but rather for the basement, to which one of the girls had managed to snag a key. There were storage rooms, a furnace room, and more importantly no staff during the evening; as it was two floors down from the staff bedrooms, it also meant they didn't have to worry about keeping quiet. So the girls would gather in one of the storage rooms, bare feet uneasy on cold concrete floors, leaning against walls and for the most part dressed in tank tops, t-shirts and shorts, whatever they'd wear to bed.
The evening hadn't started yet, people still filing in, and Kayla was feeling a bit impatient. She'd already 'dibsed' going first, and the redhead- a gorgeous, tall thing with a buxom chest, slim waist and toned physique- just waited for an opponent to step into the makeshift circle and signal her willingness to take her on. Kayla hadn't gotten a chance to sexfight in a couple of weeks, and she could already feel her nipples stiffening under her thin tank top, the cool air mingling with a warm, bubbling excitement as her bright green eyes swept the room expectantly.
Of course, even with such a laudable goal, there were definitely... tensions... that arose from weeks and months spent carefully playing the part of a good girl. In the past it had led to fistfights in the cafeteria, outbursts and screaming matches that had only served to get everyone involved in troubled. Over the last six months, however, a couple dozen of the students had come up with an... alternative... method to let off some steam.
It happened every second evening, after hours. Though the school staff were meticulous about checking the girls' dorms when it was time for lights out, and checking again when morning came, they were significantly more lax about the eight or so hours in between. As such, at around ten o'clock, the girls would quietly creep from their rooms and sneak to one of the rear stairwells, headed not for the ground floor, where the classrooms and facilities were, but rather for the basement, to which one of the girls had managed to snag a key. There were storage rooms, a furnace room, and more importantly no staff during the evening; as it was two floors down from the staff bedrooms, it also meant they didn't have to worry about keeping quiet. So the girls would gather in one of the storage rooms, bare feet uneasy on cold concrete floors, leaning against walls and for the most part dressed in tank tops, t-shirts and shorts, whatever they'd wear to bed.
The evening hadn't started yet, people still filing in, and Kayla was feeling a bit impatient. She'd already 'dibsed' going first, and the redhead- a gorgeous, tall thing with a buxom chest, slim waist and toned physique- just waited for an opponent to step into the makeshift circle and signal her willingness to take her on. Kayla hadn't gotten a chance to sexfight in a couple of weeks, and she could already feel her nipples stiffening under her thin tank top, the cool air mingling with a warm, bubbling excitement as her bright green eyes swept the room expectantly.