‘Student-sister Olga!’
Sister Sonya’s voice was not quite a shout, but it carried through and around the empty halls of the dormitory, nonetheless. She stood in the open door, and Olga could sense her glower even through her goose down blanket. Sonya did not need to say another word for Olga to begin crawling out of bed. They both had gotten used to this unofficial afternoon ritual.
Olga, wearing bloomers and a loose undershirt, stepped to her cupboard and began sifting through the hastily folded clothes to find her uniform. She produced a loose, black dress from a stack of unrelated clothes, pinched the shoulder straps, and let it unfold under its own weight.
Sonya took a step into the room, looking first at Olga, then at the dress, now hanging wrinkled and half-folded in Olga’s hands. They shared a glance, and Olga gave the dress a shake, then whipped it to straighten out the newly formed wrinkles. Sonya looked on, eyebrows raised, her previously frigid, authoritative face now soft with an expression of mild concern.
*Heaven help this girl…*
Unperturbed, Olga unbuttoned the dress, stepped into it, pulled the straps to her narrow shoulders and buttoned them at the front. As she turned to the cupboard to find the rest of her uniform, Sonya interrupted, clearing her throat.
‘Olga, afternoon classes are almost over. You’ve chores to do. Find your apron. And tie your hair.’
She gestured with her eyes at Olga’s chestnut hair, flowing uncombed past her shoulders. Olga glanced downward and to the side, then began to groom with her fingers, eyes searching for a brush. Sonya stepped out of the room, turning to face back in from the hallway.
‘Come to the laundry room when you’re ready.’
Olga paused, brush in hand, a black ribbon clasped in her teeth, nodding to the robed figure in her doorway. Sonya acknowledged her nod with one of her own, and disappeared into the hallway, the sound of her clogs diminishing with every step.
Sighing, Olga continued brushing her hair, and judging it straight enough for laundry duty, tied it up in a lopsided bun with her ribbon. She found her clogs at the foot of her bed, slipped them on, and followed after Sonya’s footsteps, still audible in the hallway.
Clogs tapping against the wooden floor, Olga walked towards the laundry room with a determined pace. The early-summer, afternoon sun shone through the windows at a low angle, motes of dust dancing in the warm light.
Olga felt her bare arms tingle as she passed each window, and she wished she could stop for a moment to enjoy the long-awaited warmth. In the courtyard outside, sisters harvested the earliest herbs, to be picked before they began to flower. Their combined scent would soon spread through most of the convent.
What annoyed her the most about today was not sister Sonya’s wordless scolding or the coming toil over dirty clothes, but the fact that she had slept through a botany lesson. But, as she always told herself, there was little use going to class when you’re sleepy. Besides, sister Katya would let Olga inspect her drawings and diagrams on her own time.
She had always found it fascinating how the fledgling plants grew into a tangle taking up most of the courtyard, all the while she and the other student-sisters enjoyed a few weeks at home. Though it was nice to be with her family, she often thought she would much rather spend her vacation at the convent, helping the sisters with the gardens and orchards.
The faint smell of unscented soap reminded Olga of her mission, and turning a corner, she found Sonya leaning out of the laundry room door, summoned by the sound of Olga’s clogs. Olga watched as she disappeared into the laundry room, emerging a moment later with an apron in her hands. Olga looked down at herself, realized she had forgotten hers.
The apron changed hands without a word. Sonya stood by patiently while Olga slipped on the apron, tying it loosely around her waist to allow her to squat freely. It was too long for her, but not so long as to trip her when she stood straight.
‘So, Olga…’ Sonya made way for her to enter the laundry room. ‘… You’ll finish washing what laundry was left over by sister Tanya…’ Olga stepped inside, the smell of soap and laundry strong in her nostrils. ‘This basket of undershirts, this of bloomers, and this one, of socks… Understood?’
Olga nodded, concealing a sigh of frustration. *I wonder how doing laundry until the evening is going to keep me from nodding off during the way.* She knew it did not truly matter. *At least she doesn’t claim it’s to remind me of why I’m at school.*
Sensing Olga’s pensive mood, Sonya cleared her throat. ‘If you need any help, I will be in my quarters for the rest of the day.’ Olga nodded. *Help with laundry? If it wasn’t Sonya, I’d think she was insulting me.* She sighed. *I guess there is a lot of it.*
‘I think I’ll manage, sister Sonya. But thank you.’
To Olga’s surprise, Sonya smiled, laying a hand on her shoulder. ‘Remember to shut the door, Olga. You don’t want sisters to come complaining about foggy windows.’ Taken aback by the gesture, Olga merely nodded, and Sonya took her leave without saying a word more, shutting the door after her.
After a small pause, Olga set to work. She toppled the basket of shirts into one of the large tin basins on the floor and began to run water from the faucet sunk into the wall. She watched with keen interest as the hose coiled at the bottom of the basin convulsed like a snake playing dead as it began to spew water.
While the basin filled, Olga watched absently as steam rose from the warm water. It built up near the ceiling, slowly wafting out through a narrow slit high in the wall. *It’ll soon be like a bath in here…* She thought for a moment, then unbuttoned her dress and began to wriggle out of it. *I’ll have to wash what I’m wearing, too, if I’m going to toil in this steam bath with all these clothes on.*
---
Olga sat on a bench next to a wide basket of damp undershirts smelling slightly of soap. Wearing just her bloomers, she gazed absently at her feet, wiggling her toes to amuse herself. Suds clung to the edges of the basins by her feet, a thin steam rising from the water.
She heard clogs in the hallway, approaching steadily. *Sister Xenya.* She was fat, and though her robe might have hidden it, the weight of her steps made that evident to any who paid attention. Olga fanned her slender toes, then scrunched them together tightly.
As the clogs neared the laundry room, Olga suddenly snapped back from her absent thoughts. She took a frantic glance at the door, at her bare legs, her exposed breasts, realizing she would never hear the end of it if sister Xenya caught her like this.
Stiff like a pillar of salt, she sat on the bench praying wordlessly, holding her breath while her heart drummed against her ribs. The steps reached the door, passed it, and continued along the hallway. She dared not breathe before the clogs had disappeared past a corner, and then, she gasped hungrily for air.
She stood up, stepped quickly to the door, fastening it with a latch bent from a nail. Her head spinning, she returned to the bench and sat carefully, covering her eyes with her trembling hands. There were many deep breaths before Olga’s mind had room for thoughts.
*Thank God… Thank God.*
As the panic subsided, a warm sensation of relief spread slowly through Olga’s body. There was no guilt or regret, only a deep, enjoyable feeling of having gotten away with something forbidden, though relatively harmless. She felt vindicated, righteous in her petty rebellion, and a warm excitement welled up in her as she inspected her near-nude body, her soapy toes, her smooth stomach, and her little, budding breasts.
Slowly, she brought a hand to her chest, and brushed a nipple gently with her fingers. A tiny gasp escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. *Is it bad that I feel this way now? It’s supposed to be a private thing, I think. But… I guess it can’t be helped.*
Taking an abashed look around the room, she brought both hands to her chest, caressing the undersides of her breasts. Olga craned her neck, closed eyelids fluttering, and she found it hard to steady her still uncaught breath. *I guess it can’t be helped…*
She looked downwards at the breasts cupped in her hands. Her areolas had become puffy, the nipples now peeking out from within their nests. Watching herself carefully, she slid her hands upwards along her chest, settling her fingers on top of her nipples.
Gently, Olga pressed down on each nipple, and felt them shrink back inside her breasts. The sensation made her stomach flutter, and relieving her fingers off her breasts, she felt her nipples peek out again, eliciting a small, pleasured sigh from her tense lips.
*I have to keep quiet… Or I should try to, at least. Even if the door is closed, someone could hear…*
She lowered her hands from her chest and looked at the door. *Why is there a latch on the door? It’s not as if it helps keep the steam inside.* Olga thought for a moment, inspecting the door. *Sister Tanya…* She glanced down at herself and suppressed a snicker. *Sister Tanya must do the laundry in her bloomers too!*
She was a young, elder-sisterly figure, not so strict with the students, and often the one to advocate for them to the other sisters. Though Olga liked her, it amused her to imagine her toiling away like she herself did, bare, save for a puffy pair of underwear.
*Perhaps it’s because I like her that it amuses me so much.*
Her heart fluttered at the thought, and she squirmed, squeezing her legs together. *I wonder if she enjoys being this way, too.* Olga felt a warmth run through her, from her chest all the way to her fingers and toes, settling finally in her cheeks.
*She must enjoy it. With all that time she has to wear that robe… It has to feel good… Liberating!* As she found an expression for what she felt, a smile stretched across her face. Chancing upon an intimate, embarrassing aspect about someone she regarded highly filled her with excitement.
*Don’t worry, sister Tanya! I will keep our secret safe.*
Olga ran her hands upwards along her stomach, her chest, palms coming to rest on top of her nipples. She began to massage her chest gently, imagining sister Tanya bent over the basins, her breasts hanging freely, bobbing softly as she rubbed an undershirt against a washing board. She imagined soapy water splash onto sister Tanya’s breasts, run down past her nipples and collect towards their undersides. Droplets fell from Tanya’s soft, pale skin back into the basin.
Olga sighed and glanced at the door. *I’m safe here, after all…* She lowered a hand onto her stomach, caressing her navel softly, then sliding her fingers under her bloomers’ waistband. Warmth flushed through her body as she brushed against the tuft of soft, downy hair on her pubic mound.
*I guess it can’t be helped…*
She parted her clenched-together legs, her inner thighs damp with sweat. One hand still massaging her breast, Olga settled the fingers of the other atop her sticky, puffy vulva. She closed her eyes and pressed gently, nestling her middle finger between her excited lips.
*I... Want to see sister Tanya’s breasts…*
The silent confession made her heart skip a beat. *I want to watch her massage them…* Slowly, Olga slid her finger up and down along her vulva, imagining sister Tanya sitting back on the bench, touching and rubbing her breasts like she herself had.
Olga found her ragged breathing difficult to suppress, and the thought of someone hearing made her heart beat all the faster. *I… I want sister Tanya… To find me like this…* She curled her finger, and felt it slide into her without resistance.
*Sister Tanya… Does she touch herself here too? It’s her private place… After all…* Olga lowered her hand from her breast and pulled on her bloomers’ waistband. A lewd scent rose from her crotch, and her swollen clitoris peeked out from beneath its hood, eager to be touched.
*Do I dare…?* She looked at the door, listened. *There’s no-one around, and besides, I know how to be quiet.* Olga brought her sticky fingers to her nose, smelling herself. *My private scent… I wonder what sister Tanya smells like…*
The thought made Olga clench her legs together, and she knew she could no longer resist. She took her undershirt from the bench, bringing it close to her mouth, her other hand returning to her vulva.
Carefully, she began to make circles around her clitoris with her middle finger, her heart beating faster as the circles tightened. Managing her breathing to keep quiet, she laid her finger on her most sensitive place and began to rub gently.
Overwhelmed by pleasure, she had to pause intermittently to take a breath, then continue touching herself. *I’m rubbing myself in sister Tanya’s private place…* Her legs trembled, more each time her finger applied gentle pressure to her clitoris.
*It’s going to happen soon… It’s going to happen…* Olga heard clogs in the hallway, but they were of little concern to her now. She pressed the bunched-up undershirt against her nose and mouth and brushed her clitoris one last time.
Olga’s slender legs convulsed, and she took ragged, muffled breaths through the shirt pressed to her face. Pleasure throbbed through her body, each further brush of her clitoris eliciting a new wave of bodily bliss.
With each wave, her legs clenched closer together, finally trapping her hand in between her wet thighs. She could feel her contractions in the pit of her stomach, between her buttocks, all along her back and in her sensitive breasts. The sound of the clogs had grown close, then stopped.
Slowly, the all-encompassing feeling diminished, and Olga withdrew her hand from her bloomers. She let the shirt fall limply from her mouth and took deep, quiet breaths. There were two knocks on the door, and Olga froze in place, her lingering excitement mingling with newfound panic.
‘Olga?’
*Sister Sonya!* She glanced at the door, then down at herself, saw her still quivering legs and smooth stomach glistening with sweat. *She can’t get in… She can’t…* Barely managing to keep her voice steady and innocent, Olga called out to her.
‘Sister Sonya?’ After a torturous pause, there came an answer. ‘Is everything alright?’ Olga’s mind and heart raced. *Had she heard? She can’t have…*
‘Yes… Everything’s alright, sister Sonya. I’m just… Catching my breath.’
‘You’ve been hard at work, then… Good. Well… Keep at it, student-sister Olga.’ The clogs remained still. Olga felt the need to say something, anything, and spoke without thinking.
‘I’ll come by your quarters later when I’m finished, if that’s alright, sister Sonya.’
Silence. Olga’s stomach churned as she tried to think of more words to say, but to her relief, she didn’t need to.
‘How thoughtful… That is alright, Olga. Now, I won’t distract you any longer. Find joy in your work.’ Without waiting for an answer, the clogs trotted off. Olga stared blankly at the basins.
*Why did I have to say that?*
After a moment of catching her breath and wallowing in uncertainty, Olga’s thoughts returned to the present. She put a hand on her bloomers and felt the crotch. It was wet and sticky, cool to the touch now.
Olga brought her hand to her nose. *Did I wet myself? It smells a little like pee…* She stood up, the behind of her soaked bloomers clinging to the bench. A warm flush rushed to her cheeks. *I’ve never peed before when doing this…*
She slipped out of the bloomers and held them in front of her face. *I guess it can happen sometimes.* She sniffed, sniffed a second time, then felt abashed. *I think I should wash these too while I’m here. I’m going to smell like pee if I put these back on.*
Embarrassment quickly turned to excitement as she remembered sister Tanya. She sniffed her bloomers again. *Does sister Tanya pee when she feels good, too?* Lingering arousal rose in her crotch, and Olga felt the urge to continue touching herself.
*Olga! You have to finish washing the laundry! And you promised to report to sister Sonya too.* She sighed and tossed the bloomers on the floor next to the others. *I can always touch myself later…*
She stepped to the basins, stood with her legs apart, and splashed water on herself to wash off any lingering scent. *I’ll still smell of sweat and laundry, but, I guess that’s to be expected.*
Finding a relatively clean pair of bloomers in the laundry basket, she slipped them on, dumping the rest into the basin. *I wonder whose these are…* Olga felt a new pang of excitement in her abdomen, scolding herself as she found herself wanting to explore the thought more.
*No time for play! I want to go to bed, before long.* With renewed concentration, she squatted by the basins and began to mush the soapy bloomers in her hands.
---
Olga’s clogs tapped against the wooden floor of the hallway. She heard muffled conversation from the dormitory wing, but all else was quiet. The sun had gone down, the warm sunset hues turned to cool blue lingering in the western sky. Pinpricks of light shone where day had given way to night.
Sister Sonya’s quarters were just around the corner from where Olga lived; she was the night monitor for her wing, had been for the two years Olga had spent at the convent-school. The door was open. She knew Sonya had heard her, knew she was coming.
Careful to keep her stride steady, Olga inspected herself to make sure nothing was amiss. Her dress was clean, flowing neatly down her body. *I’ve nothing to be nervous about. She doesn’t know.* The borrowed bloomers chafed her crotch, a little too small.
Mechanically, she stepped into the doorway. Sister Sonya was busy studying a small, leather-bound book, manuscripts littering her desk. To Olga, Sonya’s quarters had always been a strange mixture of order and disarray.
‘Do come in, Olga.’ Her voice was friendly, but Olga felt anxious regardless. She took a step inside but remained standing close to the door.
‘I’m finished with the laundry, sister Sonya.’
‘Very good, student-sister Olga.’ Sonya spoke over her shoulder, eyes focused on her book. Not knowing what more to say, Olga remained silent.
Finishing a paragraph, Sonya turned in her chair to face Olga. ‘Did you have something else in mind, Olga?’ Sonya’s face was hard, but, that was how she always looked. Olga wondered if her question was an accusation, or an invitation to confess.
*Sister Sonya’s not nasty like that… She speaks her mind, even when it’s difficult.* Olga glanced at her feet, avoiding Sonya’s eyes. ‘No, sister Sonya… I didn’t.’ She raised her eyes to find Sonya staring at her quizzically.
‘Are you sure? You look like something’s bothering you. Anything at all?’ Olga felt the question was sincere, and suddenly felt bad for doubting Sonya’s intentions. *Should I tell her? No… Not everything at least… It’s too much…*
Noticing Olga’s mood, Sonya rose from her seat, and invited Olga to sit in it. She stepped to the door, closed it, then sat back on her bed, facing the now awkwardly seated Olga. *I’m trapped! I have to say something now…*
Olga thought of a hasty lie, opened her mouth to speak, but closed it without saying a word. *I can’t! She knows when I lie… And I don’t want to lie either.* Sonya looked at her, trying to soften her naturally hard expression.
‘Did something happen, Olga?’ She leaned towards Olga as she spoke, her hushed voice soft and friendly. Her eyes closed tightly, Olga took a deep breath. ‘Yes… Or, no… Rather… It’s… I… Did something.’
Olga wanted then to tell her everything that happened, to be rid of her secret, but at the same time, she wished dearly to keep it, not for fear of punishment, but to treasure as her own. Sonya’s keen eyes asked her to go on.
‘I… When I was in the laundry room… When I was doing laundry… I didn’t wear my uniform… It was… I was…’ Her voice trailed off. She didn’t look to see Sonya’s reaction, just stared at the clogs hanging from her toes. *There! It’s the truth… Part of it, at least…*
Sonya inspected Olga, and a little smile spread across her narrow lips. ‘I guess I could have told that from your dress… After all, it’s remarkably spotless for someone to have worn it while they washed clothes so vigorously they had to stop now and then to catch their breath.’
Olga looked at herself and blushed. *I guess I did tell the truth back there, too.* Taking a deep breath, Sonya stood up from her bed, laying a hand on Olga’s shoulder. ‘You’ve done no great wrong, Olga, I assure you. Your uniform, like mine, is there to protect you, not hinder you.’
Olga’s face brightened, and she looked up at Sonya. ‘So, what I did was not a bad thing?’ Sonya’s face hardened as she thought, choosing her words carefully. ‘Though I understand why you did what you did, rules are still rules, Olga, and it’s best you abide by them.’
Shoulders slumped, Olga sank into the chair. *Sister Sonya’s right. But… What about sister Tanya?* Before Olga could sink deeper into her thoughts sister Sonya squatted down in front of her and looked her in the eyes. ‘Olga… If you promise to keep this to yourself, I can give you permission to do laundry without your uniform from now on. It’s hardly fair for you to work with it on…‘
*…Since sister Tanya doesn’t wear hers when she does, either!* To Sonya’s surprise, Olga perked up before she had finished what she had intended to say. Recovering her train of thought, she continued.
‘I only wish that you don’t spend your nights dwelling over something so minor. Some of the sisters might disagree with me, but being practical is hardly a breach of principles. Does that put your mind at ease?’
Olga nodded, excited that Sonya could see things her way. Lifting her hand off Olga’s shoulder, Sonya stood up, smoothing her robe against her legs. ‘Now, Olga, you should go off to your quarters. Mila had already retired to study when I stopped by.’
Slipping her heels into her clogs, Olga hopped off the tall chair, smoothing her dress like Sonya had done. She stepped to the door, turning back to see Sonya seated at her desk again.
‘Good night, sister Sonya.’ Sonya smiled. ‘Good night, student-sister Olga. And see you tomorrow!’ Olga nodded and walked off into the hallway, an impish smile on her lips.
---
Mila, along with two girls living next door, Anya and Wanda, sat on Mila’s bed, huddled together in hushed conversation. The three turned to look at Olga in unison as she stepped into the room and closed the door after her. Surprised to find a crowd waiting for her, Olga looked at each of them, a quizzical smile on her lips.
‘Wanda? Anya?’ Mila and Wanda shushed at Olga. Anya glanced at her companions, then at Olga. ‘We’re not really supposed to be here, you know? Get over here and be quiet!’ Olga slipped off her clogs and slid them under her bed.
Gesturing for the girls to make way, Olga stepped over to Mila’s bed and sat down. After much shuffling, the group had formed a ring on the narrow bed, each girl trying to make the most of the limited space.
‘We were just talking about today’s lesson. The one you missed, Olga.’ Wanda’s remark made Olga blush. ‘Don’t mind her Olga, it happens to all of us once in a while.’ *To some more often than others…* Wanda snickered, her spectacled eyes narrowing. Mila jabbed her in the side with her elbow.
‘So… What about today’s lesson?’ Olga was made all the more curious by the usually airheaded Wanda’s excitement over anything related to botany. Mila cleared her throat and glanced at her friends. ‘Well… I think it’s best if we start from the beginning…’
‘Sister Katya talked about reproduction today, about how plants couple and make more plants!’ Wanda cut her off, unable to contain herself. Anya glared at her, hushing her with a gesture.
Glancing at Anya, Wanda continued in a hushed tone. ‘You know how there are male plants and female plants, or some plants that have both female and male flowers? Well, maybe you wouldn’t, since you weren’t there, but…’
‘This is why I said we should start at the beginning.’ Mila looked at both Olga and Wanda. ‘So, we talked about it after the lesson, and Wanda…’ Mila nodded at her. ‘…Guessed that what sister Katya talked about probably applies to people, too.’
‘Yes! Like how you have a mother and a father, instead of two of either one… And animals too!’ Wanda was tearing at the seams trying to contain all her thoughts, and Anya hushed her again, this time laying a hand on her shoulder.
‘Katya showed us drawings of different flowers, and how to tell the males from the females.’ As soon as Mila was finished speaking, Wanda rushed to continue her train of thought. ‘And the flowers, they have male and female “parts”, you know, Olga? Like how you have a vagina, and boys have a… Penis.’
Olga, overwhelmed by the amount of information and flustered by the subject matter, glanced at each of her friends. Mila and Wanda were flush with excitement. Anya smiled silently to herself.
‘Wanda, how do you know… All of this?’ Wanda, surprised at the attention turning on her rather than the matter at hand, looked at Olga, blinking twice. ‘It’s just... Conjecture, you know. I’m not stupid, am I?’
After a brief silence filled with awkward smiles, Wanda continued her explanation. ‘So, it got me thinking… That… If plants use them to reproduce… Well… I don’t think our “parts” are there just for peeing out of, either.’ Unsure if her listeners followed, Wanda swallowed and corrected her wire-rimmed glasses, feeling as if she had said something strange.
‘What’s a penis?’ Anya’s soft voice chimed in unexpectedly, and Olga failed to suppress a snicker that quickly spread to Mila. Wanda looked at the two, blushing deeply. It was a moment before she could answer.
‘Well… My sister told me this, and she knows a lot… But… It’s like a clitoris, but it’s bigger.’ Wanda turned to look at Anya. ‘You know what a clitoris is, right?’ Anya pursed her lips and looked back at Wanda.
‘Don’t play dumb, Anya. I can hear you playing with yours every other night.’ Olga and Mila glanced at each other, blushed, and began to laugh again. Anya sank into a flustered silence, in turn leaving Wanda to shush her friends.
Collecting her thoughts for a moment, Anya took a careful breath, and raised her head to look intently at Wanda. ‘Wanda… Could you show me?’ Wanda snapped her head towards Anya, momentarily lost for words at her forward question.
‘Anya?’
Anya looked at the others, eyebrows raised quizzically. ‘If it’s alright, that is. We’re all friends, after all.’ Olga and Mila looked at each other, then at Anya, nodding reassuringly. Wanda swallowed, then moved across the ring closer to Anya.
‘How… How do you want me to show you?’ Anya gestured for Wanda’s hand, laid it softly to rest on her thigh. ‘You can just…. Touch it, and I’ll know.’ Anya hiked the hem of her dress up to her waist, her eyes inviting Wanda to go ahead.
Hesitantly, Wanda lay her hand on Anya’s bloomers, and began to feel her friend’s crotch through the thin cloth, fingers timid, easing slowly to prod more carefully. Anya watched with keen interest as the fingers traced her vulva, the fabric sticking to the sensitive skin.
Olga glanced at Mila and saw she too had hiked her dress to her thighs, her hand resting on her puffy underwear. Their eyes met, and both smiled timidly before turning again to look at Wanda and Anya.
Wanda’s face was flushed red, rivaling the color of her hair, and she kept her eyes focused on her hand, avoiding those of her friends. Anya showed little reaction despite the fingers growing braver, though the little blush growing on her cheeks betrayed her excitement.
Embarrassed, Wanda lifted her hand from Anya’s crotch, taking a moment to steel herself to look her in the eyes. Her face quizzical, but softened by the blush, Anya looked at her friend without speaking.
‘Anya… I… Don’t think I can find it this way… If you want…’ Anya inspected Wanda’s flustered face, and before she could continue, began to draw her bloomers down her legs. Startled, Wanda drew her hand back, glancing at Anya’s amused face. She gave Wanda a friendly nod, encouraging her to look back down to her crotch.
Anya’s vulva was smooth, save for a small patch of hair as dark as that on her head. Her lips had grown puffy, hiding her little labia, sticky from her friends’ attention. Wanda’s flush deepened, spread all across her face as she looked for the first time at another girl’s vulva.
After a moment’s hesitation, Wanda laid her timid fingers on Anya’s slit, sighing deeply as she touched the warm, sensitive skin. She ran her finger along the puffy labia, felt it glide softly, made slick by Anya’s nectar. Taking a deep breath, she drew her hand back, rubbing her fingers together.
‘It’s alright Wanda, you’re not going to hurt me.’ Wanda glanced at Anya’s face and felt her heart flutter. Carefully, she laid her hand back on Anya’s crotch, nestling a finger between her swollen lips.
With fascination, Anya watched as Wanda timidly explored her vulva, appearing not to notice Olga and Mila peeking over Wanda’s shoulders. Both girls touched themselves, unbothered to hide their interest or their excitement. Anya could sense their eyes on her vulva, felt it grow all the warmer.
Her courage bolstered by her own excitement, Wanda slipped between Anya’s labia, a fuzzy smile spreading on her lips as she felt her friend’s vagina envelop the tip of her finger. She slid it carefully towards her navel, and upon reaching the upper edge of Anya’s vulva, Wanda’s finger touched a little, sensitive nub, hidden deep beneath its hood.
Anya gasped silently, blinked twice. Confirming her discovery, Wanda brushed against the sensitive spot a second time, eliciting another gasp from Anya. A triumphant smile spread across her face, and she withdrew her finger from between the eager lips.
‘There… That’s your clitoris.’ Wanda glanced quickly at Anya’s face, then looked away, her face flushed red.
‘Oh, I’m aware.’
Wanda snapped her head upwards and saw the knowing smile on Anya’s lips. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it without saying anything while her blush spread from ear to ear.
‘You can keep touching it if you want. It feels nice when you do it.’ Wanda turned away from the rest of the girls to sit on the edge of the bed, pouting silently.
‘A little joke.’ When Wanda didn’t respond, Anya gave a slight shrug, then turned to look at Olga and Mila. Both girls smiled awkwardly as the bare-bottomed Anya looked at each of them.
She looked down at her own crotch, moving a hand to her vulva, spreading her lips with her fingers. Anya inspected her deeply hooded clitoris, moving her fingers so that it peeked out, Olga and Mila watching the display breathlessly.
‘It’s small, isn’t it?’ Mila leaned towards Anya, closer as she nodded in encouragement. She touched herself without shame as she watched Anya massage her vulva, so that her clitoris hid beneath its hood, then peeked out again.
‘I… Think it’s pretty…’ Anya’s fingers stopped, and she blushed deeply at the unexpected compliment. Mila raised her head to look Anya in the eyes, waited for her to meet her gaze. ‘I’d… Like to show you mine… If it’s alright.’
Wanda whirled from the edge of the bed, and Olga saw her bloomers laying now on the floor next to its foot. ‘Touch mine! Anya, I want you to touch mine…’
Taken aback, Mila returned to her spot, and she and Olga shared a glance. Anya gestured for Wanda to come closer, and she scooted along the bed towards her. After another gesture, Wanda drew her hem to her waist, showing her bare crotch to Anya.
Wanda’s vulva was puffy with excitement, her inner lips and clitoris peeking out visibly. Cheeks burning, Wanda looked Anya in the face, her eyes begging Anya to touch her. The two looked at each other a moment in silence, and then, Anya lowered her hand to Wanda’s crotch.
She ran a gentle finger across the eager, puffy lips, brushing against her little labia. Her mind fuzzy, Wanda’s gaze darted around the room, and as her eyes met Anya’s, sharply focused on her, she pressed her lids shut to hide from the penetrating gaze.
She pursed her lips, trying not to make a sound, failed to prevent a frustrated gasp escaping her lips as Anya lifted her fingers off her vulva. Inspecting her hand, Anya touched a finger to her thumb and watched with great curiosity as a clear strand stretched between them as they parted.
‘You’re sticky, Wanda.’ Eyes still scrunched shut, Wanda inhaled deeply through her nose. ‘Look.’ Anya showed her fingers to Olga and Mila, glancing at each of their blushing faces. Wanda covered hers with her hands, trying to breathe calmly.
Olga glanced at Wanda, then at Anya, her blush growing deeper as she collected her words. ‘Can I… Smell it?’ After a thoughtful pause, Anya nodded in response, lifting her fingers towards her. Olga leaned forward, bringing her face closer to the sticky fingers. She sniffed carefully, moved closer and sniffed again.
*Wanda smells good… A little like me… But like Wanda…* Olga smiled, and Anya brought the fingers to her own nose, smelling them too. The two shared a long, wordless look, broken by Mila leaning into view.
Taking her hint, Anya showed the fingers to Mila, who sniffed them carefully with her eyes closed. She smiled and turned to look at Wanda. ‘Wanda, are you alright?’ Mila’s question sent a pang of worry through Anya’s stomach.
To her relief, Wanda nodded twice, not lifting her hands off her face. ‘I’m alright.’ Her muffled voice was hazy with excitement. Anya smiled and put a gentle hand on Wanda’s shoulder.
Wanda gasped as Anya touched her, relaxed as she let out the sudden breath. Anya’s other hand settled on her crotch, resuming the tender caresses of her friend’s impatient vulva. Teasing, she trailed her finger along Wanda’s little labia towards her clitoris, stopping just before they brushed against it.
Wanda groaned through her hands, pivoting her hips timidly to feel Anya’s fingers on her clitoris. Anya let her, watching in quiet amusement as Wanda squirmed to feel her fingers brush her sensitive place.
When she finally felt the touch she was desperate for, Wanda gasped, then drew her hands from her face and muffled her mouth with the crook of her elbow. She opened her eyes, blinked, and saw Anya leaning close to her.
Wanda’s eyes darted away, but soon returned to look at Anya. She felt warm seeing Anya’s keen gaze softened by her unveiled excitement, her little breaths and the blush on her pale cheeks, and felt she wanted then to look more at nothing else.
Embracing one another with their eyes, Wanda and Anya began to move in timid unison, fingers gently brushing against clitoris, Wanda’s labored breathing in rhythm with their motions.
Watching her friends with her little mind whirling, Olga curled her finger to touch deep, sensitive spots inside her, wishing secretly that she could have been in Wanda’s place.
Mila had retreated into her own little world of pleasure, her closed eyelids fluttering as she lay back on the bed. Her breaths were deep, quiet, though only so through great effort.
Suddenly, Anya perked up, lifting her fingers from Wanda’s crotch. She looked at the door, shushed Wanda when she groaned into her sleeve. The rhythmic tap of clogs sounded somewhere off in the hallway.
‘I’m sorry Wanda.’ Anya wiped her sticky fingers on the rumpled sheets and pulled her bloomers back to her waist. Wanda let her arm slump down from her gasping mouth, confusion on her red, sweaty face. She heard the faint sound from the hallway and shot a frustrated glance at the door.
Olga withdrew her finger from her vagina, listening carefully. *Sister Sonya. It’s sister Sonya… She sighed. I’ve already explained enough for today.* Mila did not notice, or did not care.
Wanda turned to sit on the edge of the bed, still breathing heavily, and realized suddenly how red her face was. Anya scooted across the bed to sit next to her friend, brushing Wanda’s hair from her face and wiping the fog from her glasses with her sleeve.
Mila gasped, then held her breath while her hips bucked gently against her fingers. Olga glanced at her, then at Anya and Wanda, who returned her stare. All then turned to look at Mila, who lay now still, returning to reality with each hungry breath.
The clogs grew closer, and panic rose in Wanda’s eyes as she felt her face only get redder as she tried to will the flush away. Anya, noticing her friend’s concern, stopped her tidying, thinking quietly.
‘Wanda, sit facing towards the wall. I’ll braid your hair.’ Sighing, Wanda climbed back onto the bed and sat towards a far corner, her legs crossed underneath her.
Anya sat behind her back and began combing Wanda’s hair with her fingers, dividing it into three neat bundles. Olga joined, sitting behind Anya, and began to do the same to her. Mila lay on her back, hands limp at her side. Wanda looked at her, pulling the hem of her dress to cover her stained bloomers. Her eyes widened in sudden realization. *Mine are still lying on the floor!*
There was a quiet knock on the door. The girls continued as before, save for Mila, who sat up, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Sister Sonya peeked in through the door, blinking at the thick air inside the room.
She lowered her brow, looked at each of the girls. Mila returned her gaze, blinking, at a loss for words. Anya glanced at Sonya over her shoulder. ‘We’re off to bed in a minute, sister Sonya.’
Sonya took the dry remark to mean that all was well, and decided against chiding the girls for socializing late into the evening. ‘Well then… Have a good night’s sleep, all of you.’
She took one last look at the quiet room, puzzled a moment over the bunched-up bloomers on the floor, then disappeared from the doorway.
*Heaven help that girl…*
---
The girls sat on the edges of the beds, Olga on hers, opposite Mila, Wanda, and Anya. Mila smiled nervously, her eyes wandering the room, head lost in thought. Wanda swung her legs back and forth, her now impeccably braided red hair hanging over her shoulder. Anya gazed absently at Olga’s socks, yawned without covering her mouth.
‘I think we should go to sleep, Wanda.’ Anya laid a hand on Wanda’s shoulder, who stilled her feet and turned her head, nodding. Correcting her glasses, Wanda let her feet to the ground, smoothing her dress against her thighs.
‘Wanda? Can you help me catch up better, tomorrow?’ Unsure as to what Olga’s question implied, Wanda blushed, glancing nervously at Anya. ‘Can you come with me to sister Katya’s classroom? Share your notes, maybe?’ Wanda glanced at Olga, swiftly lowering her eyes.
‘Sure…’
Mila and Anya looked at Olga, who glanced at both girls nervously. ‘I don’t mean to say you can’t come too… It’s just that… Wanda seems like the expert out of all of us.’
Her blush growing deeper, Wanda squatted down and grabbed her bloomers, turned towards the corner and began pulling them up her legs. Mila and Anya nodded in unison while watching Wanda fit on her bloomers, the hem of her dress held up by her arms.
‘When do you want to go, Olga?’ Wanda’s composure returned as she let her dress down and took a step towards Olga’s bed. ‘Between classes?’ Olga glanced at Mila and Anya, who responded with little nods.
‘After sister Xenya, or do you want me to come drag you out of bed a little later?’ Olga blushed, then smiled as she looked at Wanda. ‘After sister Xenya is fine.’ Wanda saw the smile on Olga’s lips, glanced to the side, blushing.
‘What’s so funny?’
Olga glanced at Anya, who shared her amusement. ‘Nothing, Wanda.’ The smile hidden from her lips, Anya stood up and stepped over to Wanda. ‘We should go to bed now.’ Wanda took a deep breath and nodded.
The two girls stepped towards the door, turning back to face Olga and Mila, sitting on their beds. ‘See you tomorrow.’ Wanda repeated after Anya, her voice tired. ‘See you tomorrow…’
‘I look forward to it!’ Olga’s gleeful smile caught onto Wanda, and she glanced quickly down in an attempt to hide it. Mila nodded enthusiastically. Lifting her head, Wanda met Olga’s eyes, smiling brightly. ‘I do too… Olga.’
The girls opened the door quietly and stepped outside, their socks silent against the wooden floor of the hallway. Olga and Mila were a moment staring at the door, now closed. An owl called outside, and the girls listened to their own breathing.
---
Their dresses folded away in their cupboard, Olga and Mila lay on their beds in undershirts and bloomers, staring at the ceiling. Olga adjusted hers, finding that no matter how she twisted or turned them, they were too tight and chafed against her crotch.
Olga rolled to her side towards Mila, who, after a moment, noticed her and did the same. ‘Mila?’ Mila raised her eyebrows. ‘Do you want to hear a secret?’ Her interest piqued, Mila sat up, stepped to Olga’s bed on her toes and sat down softly.
‘Of course I do.’ Mila smiled, smiled wider as she saw Olga’s abashed expression, eager for her to go on. ‘I think… I think that sister Tanya… Touches herself in the laundry room.’ Mila suppressed a snicker.
‘No she doesn’t, Olga. Sister Tanya?’ Olga nodded, her brow serious. ‘Yes, she does! …I think.’ Mila glanced at her feet, then at Olga.
‘She’s a sister! They’re not allowed to do things like that.’ Olga’s face hardened as she tried to word her thoughts. ‘She’s a girl too, just older. Are you going to stop touching yourself when you’re old?’
Blinking, Mila thought over Olga’s words, red blotches growing on her cheeks. ‘No… But… It’s different. Sister Tanya’s a… Well… Sister, you know?’
‘But why is it different? She must want to feel good too.’ Mila took a deep breath, lowering her eyes to her feet, raising them after thinking a moment. ‘You know the sisters take vows, right? Not to marry and such.’
Olga rolled onto her back, hands on her slowly rising and falling stomach. ‘But… That’s different… Isn’t it?’
‘If they aren’t allowed to have children, and if what Wanda says is true… I think the sisters aren’t allowed to touch themselves either.’
Olga tried to connect the still poorly understood pieces in her mind, eyes inspecting the ceiling. She sat up, taking a deep breath.
‘I… Still think it’s different, Mila. How sister Sonya explained it at least, the vows are about responsibility… Or not having any, but to study and teach. I don’t think it’s about not being allowed to feel good.’
Mila drew her feet up the edge of the bed, folded them beneath her. ‘It’s just that… The sisters… They aren’t allowed to smoke, or drink either… But… I guess that’s different, too. People don’t look happy when they drink, just scary, or sad.’
She craned her neck and took a deep breath, turning her head towards Olga. ‘Where did you get that idea anyway?’
Olga raised her eyebrows, trying to hide her embarrassment. ‘I… When I was doing laundry today… I noticed that there was a latch on the laundry room door. And…’ She trailed off, hoping Mila would catch her train of thought.
‘And what? Aren’t you supposed to keep the door closed?’ Mila’s quizzical eyes bored into Olga. ‘Well, yes, you are… But that doesn’t explain the latch.’
‘Why not? Maybe there are drafts when it’s windy.’ Conflicted, Mila tried to explain the latch to herself, but part of her wanted to believe Olga’s theory.
‘But… If you agree that the sisters must touch themselves sometimes too… Wouldn’t the laundry room seem like a good place to do it, given the privacy?’ Mila blinked conspicuously.
‘It’s… Not really a matter of privacy to us, either…’ Mila glanced at Olga. Both girls began to snicker. Calming down, Mila continued.
‘I guess I wouldn’t want sister Xenya to find me touching myself in the laundry room if I was sister Tanya, either.’ Mila paused, ruminating. ‘Maybe it’s because she touches herself that she’s so nice…’
Olga smiled. ‘You see? It makes sense.’ Mila turned to look at her. ‘I guess it does… It’s just… Hard to imagine…’ A blush rose on Mila’s cheeks as she spoke.
‘I think it’s… Exciting… In a way.’ Mila nodded without looking at Olga. ‘I… Touched myself in the laundry room, thinking about it…’
Red rushed to Mila’s cheeks, and she whirled to face Olga. ‘Olga! So that’s it. I…’ Mila glanced away from Olga’s eyes. ‘Did it feel good? To do it there?’
Olga nodded. ‘It felt… Different.’ Mila scooted closer to Olga, speaking in a whisper. ‘Different… How?’ Putting her words together carefully, Olga spoke while her gaze wandered the dimly lit room.
‘It felt like… It felt… Secret…’ Olga glanced at Mila, who stared at her, captivated. ‘Other people go to the laundry room, but they don’t know…’ Hesitating, Olga stopped to think. Mila lay a reassuring hand on her knee.
‘Sister Xenya walked past the door while I was there… And… It was scary… But… Exciting too… I thought about how no-one else knows what I’m doing, that she thinks I’m only doing laundry, but really…’
‘Do you think… We could go there together, sometime?’ Mila’s candid question brought a deep blush to Olga’s already reddened cheeks. At a loss for words, she could at first only nod in response.
‘I… I’d like to… But I’m not sure know how we could…’ Mila thought for a moment. ‘We could just ask… I don’t think bringing help is out of the question.’
The girls shared a glance, smiling. A gentle silence lay on them for a while.
‘Olga… I promise to keep your secret.’ Olga looked at Mila, saw her face had grown serious. ‘It’s… I wouldn’t have told you, if I didn’t know you would…’
Mila’s face softened, and she smiled, turning her face away. ‘I think we should go to sleep, Olga.’ Olga agreed with a little nod.
Mila rose from the bed, stepped past their dresser on her toes, pulled the string on their little table lamp as she passed it, and a soft darkness enveloped the room. A gibbous moon shone faintly outside, casting intricate shadows through the lace curtain. Olga heard Mila rustling in her rumpled sheets, settling down as she finished tucking herself in.
‘Good night, Olga.’
‘Mila?’ Olga heard her roll towards her. ‘Yes?’ Gathering her words for a moment, Olga leaned towards Mila, and spoke in a whisper.
‘I won’t keep you awake if I touch myself a little, will I?’ A soft snicker came in response. ‘Are you going to think about sister Tanya again, Olga?’
Olga’s cheeks grew hot, and she couldn’t find her words. ‘I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to poke fun.’
‘I’m… Going to think about what Wanda and Anya did, earlier.’ There was no answer, only a soft, controlled sigh.
‘Sleep well, Mila.’ She could hear her soft little breaths, the shuffling of her feet against her sheets. Olga hugged her blanket around her, moving her hand gently down her stomach and into her chafing bloomers.
‘You too, Olga.’
---
To be continued...