Ayira's smooth forehead wrinkled in puzzlement at Charlotte's flustered response to her offer, which she was certain was fairly common courtesy for anyone who wanted to get off on the right foot with a new roommate. Maybe she grew up wealthy and isn't used to thinking about it? she guessed, and was rather pleased with herself when Charlotte's explanation revealed something not too far off. She wasn't used to moving for herself. Ayira congratulated herself on a near miss in intuiting the reasons behind a confusing reaction and moved on to being even more impressed with the equipment available to her department.

"That's a very useful skill to have," the freshman remarked, reflecting that her artistry lay firmly in the realm of solder and wiring, and made a mental note to ask Charlotte for guidance if she ever embarked on a project that looked like it would require extensive sculpting. Her enthusiastic listing of the detail work included in Leopold's chassis was impressive, on the one hand... and unfortunately erotic on the other. While Ayira was quite accomplished at multitasking, and had been keeping half of her divided attention on the lecture, it became distinctly more difficult against the press of awakening tactile memory and fantasy. The smooth, pliant, utterly safe and sanitary touch of artificial skin, perhaps humming with the potential bite of electricity, installed somewhere where she could indulge herself unbeknownst to anyone and purify herself and her machines afterwards...

She shuddered delicately, the movement rasping the cloth of her shirt against her soft cotton bra and alerting her to the fact that her nipples were rather noticeably protruding against the straining outline of her breasts. Mortified, she leaned into her desk and crossed her arms on top of its surface as casually as she could, shielding her traitorous bosom from view (she hoped) before it could be noticed.

Just at that moment, a classmate turned and scolded Charlotte for talking, and Ayira was convinced that her glance dipped downwards just before she had managed to conceal herself. A hot blush spread over her face, almost as much for being guilty by association of disrupting class as for the fear that this Melinda saw the evidence of her arousal.

Ayira was rather alarmed that, after the commotion, Charlotte simply returned to discussing with her. Is this the kind of deference all graduate students get? she wondered, dazed. Compromising with herself, she replied in a lower voice, "That is odd, since I could swear that I had been assigned a single, but it wouldn't be the first time that students were confused by a bureaucratic error somewhere. Anyway, it sounds like we'll be a good match for each other, since I tend to like having some quiet time to myself after classes, and I'm sure Leopold would be a fascinating study subject."

A snarky voice in the back of the still-blushing girl's mind suggested a particular use to which said quiet time could be put, and she shoved it away. Anyway, Leopold probably has recording capabilities that might not power off when he does, so you could never be certain you had privacy. And can you [i]imagine what it would be like if Charlotte found a file like that in his logs?[/i] Ayira shuddered again, covering it with a shy smile and the excuse, "Perhaps I should start bringing a jacket to class."

"Oh? Why is that?" Natsuki simpered, bracing her jaw with her elbow set against the tabletop. She'd certainly noticed Ayira's undercover display whether other students had or not, and she had her suspicions as to what kinds of thoughts had formed the intriguing protrusions beneath Ayira's bra. Cold had nothing to do with it, she was sure. Anyways, it was an encouraging sign. Before Ayira could misidentify her irony she gave a raucous grin and turned back toward the lecturer.

"It is chilly in here isn't it? The school keeps the temperature down here for the sake of the electronics." Let Ayira wonder what she'd seen, Natsuki thought. It was perfect for her if the girl kept her attention centered on the physical rather than on classroom abstractions. Think of Leopold, or whether anybody saw your nipples, she mentally commanded. Think about shower arrangements, or what you are going to wear after you get to your room... The creature tapped her fingers hard on the table. Damn it! She was distracting herself imagining such things, not her new roommate.

The lecture was winding down, or the assigned end of class was being approached by the clock. Either way the students were surreptitiously transferring notebooks into their bags and inching their feet closer to the tiles. Sensing the trend Akira unconsciously raised his voice to outline a few last points in the itinerary. Syllabi disappeared, and in all respects the assembled students were ignoring their professor. There was no point fighting gravity, and in a moment the professor gracefully receded into his chair.

"Leopold will be moving things for awhile, so you'll have to wait until afterwards if you want to dismantle him. Unless you really want to help me carry my things. And don't start trying to dig into any of the components or he'll end up on the workshop table again. I'm really not sure if I can duplicate some of his pieces." Natsuki spoke quickly, as if she had another class to attend in a few minutes. She tried not to watch Ayira pack her effects, or to stare after the girl who'd been so uncourteous during her conversation. Her fingers tugged on the edge of her skirt; she felt a pleat rip as Ayira's arm came into the corner of her view. The vermillion sleeve had ridden up on her rich forearm.

"I'll see you later okay?" Natsuki said curtly, and set off with a false apology waiting on her lips, heading for the student who'd admonished her. If she went with Ayira now all the suspense would be ruined. She wasn't in the mood to see the woman's terror, not yet, but she wouldn't be able to restrain herself once the dorm room door closed behind them. She needed to vent her lust on somebody. Miss Self-Righteous would do. Before she headed into the hall Ayira would catch sight of her new friend Charlotte holding a book behind her back, sheepishly kicking at the floor as she spoke to another classmate. The two girls amiably merged with the rest of the throng. There was no reason for Ayira to remark on the sight, though it would be the last time she ever saw Melinda Evingston enter the robotics workshop.

Ayira's eyes flashed wide, lips forming inarticulate shapes as she tried and failed to come up with a smooth misdirection for Charlotte's innocently teasing query. The cheerful mockery in her grin made blood rush to her face, certain that she'd been caught, just before she dropped the subject, leaving her caught between panic and relief, and utterly confused. Was that all in my head? she wondered, reanalyzing the undertones of the brief exchange. Maybe she was smiling about something else? Well, I can't very well ask her about it now.

Feeling distinctly off-balance, the freshman merely nodded, mutely grateful, as her new roommate diverted the conversation to the coolness of the room, glad that her excuse was substantiated by reality. The tell-tale furtive scuffles of students preparing to bolt from their seats the moment the bell rang reached her ears, and she glanced at the clock, surprised. She realized to her chagrin that she had absorbed absolutely none of Akira's words over the past couple minutes and studied the syllabus sections he'd been elaborating on with perhaps overzealous attention as penance. She felt distinctly guilty as the other student's inattention eventually drove the elderly professor back to his seat, part of her wanting to go up to him after class and reassure him that she, at least, was intensely interested in his subject.

A glance at her schedule dissuaded her from that idea, reminding her that her next class was across the campus in the school's athletic complex, and she slid her effects into her bag. Answering Charlotte's quick-spoken warning about Leopold with a smile and her assurance that she could certainly wait to examine him, she rose and blinked in surprise as the fair-haired sylph sped off to speak to the girl who had scolded them in class. Ayira made her way to the door, the sight of her roommate apparently apologizing for snapping at the other girl sticking in her mind as she raced to her next class.

Rather impetuous nature aside, Ayira smiled to herself as she realized that she had been at school for less than 24 hours and seemed to have already made a friend, and found herself rather looking forward to the two of them having time after classes were over to get to know each other.

"So Miss Evingston. Do you feel sorry for interrupting me yet?"

"Aaag! Wha ahh ooh ooing eeah?"

"Tsk! That was a rhetorical question Melinda. It's rude to talk with your mouth full."

"Mmmpph!"

"What did I just say?" Natsuki sighed and lifted her hand, flattened, where her captive could see it. Doing so meant crouching down since the awful girl couldn't move her head very well in the vice biting over her ears, but good instruction meant letting the insolent student know when she was being chastened. Surprising somebody with punishment, or failing to explain their failing, only fostered resentment. Melinda gagged out another shrill wail when she saw Natsuki's waiting palm before shutting her eyes against the explosive impact of the woman's slap. Afterwards, as she sniffled, Natsuki watched beads of mascara drip alongside Melinda's nose until they merged with the wet, inky corona that had formed around the steel hoop wedging her lips open. She reached out to lift the student's chin, smirking when she heard her jaw pop from the slight pressure, and remained crouching as she stared into the slut's luminous brown eyes.

"Now, I've already explained to you that interrupting a private moment between lovers is unacceptable, haven't I? Ayira and I are intimate acquaintances, and soon we will be more intimate still. You understand what you did was wrong don't you?"

Melinda nodded frantically on the workshop table, causing her naked buttocks to jiggle and the backs of her widely parted thighs to tense. Rubber straps groaned from the strain of pinning the brunette's ankles and wrists to the table's corners.

"Good. Excellent. Then you accept that you need to be punished?" Silence followed. Melinda's eyes widened, and the line of spittle linking her mouth to the floor ceased trembling as her breath became still. Natsuki raised her hand.

"Well?"

"Eeeaa!"

"I'm glad you understand. I'm going to proceed now. Afterwards, once you've devoted yourself to me, we can talk, and we'll see if you have any good notions on how to woo my paramour. Once you've redeemed yourself."

A soft mass dropped out of Natsuki's skirt, plopping when they hit the tiles. The bulky columns were the color of rose metals, or an unbroken hymen. They squirmed noiselessly. As the wet organs issued out from between Natsuki's legs she started to round the table to position herself behind Melinda. She licked an index finger and smiled as she oriented it between Melinda's now quaking rump. She listened to the escalating sound of Melinda's panting, and watched the tension coil and uncoil along the student's spine. She drove her finger forward. Melinda screamed.

"This is going to please you more than it pleases me." Natsuki promised. As Melinda's screams jumped octaves tentacles crawled over the lip of the table and slathered themselves over the prostrate, naked brunette.

Hours later Charlotte stood on her heels outside her room, tentatively knocking on the door to her first dorm. It would be polite, she considered, to let Ayira know she was coming before barging into the room. A couple of tedious seconds counted past, and she impetuously rapped her knuckles on the door a second time. She gritted her teeth, then studiously relaxed them. Ayira's records stated she should be out of class by now, so what could be keeping her? If she was already out participating in some kind of extracurricular she had such a tantrum ready for Leopold...

It was with some relief that Ayira returned to her room, kicking her shoes off and tucking them by the edge of the bed, then proceeding to remove her confining uniform, taking a deep breath as her breasts were freed from the close-fitting cloth. She shook her head as she reflected on the events of her first day, ebony tresses tickling across the uppermost curve of her luscious rump with the motion. Whoever runs this school must be some wealthy eccentric, she decided. I can't imagine how else he's avoided a lawsuit.

For it wasn't just the salaciously fitted uniforms, she had discovered. In her beginning drawing class, which she'd selected to fill a humanities credit requirement, they would be starting on a nude drawing unit after covering the basics, which would then culminate in a term project of "cross disciplinary study" where students would research the Kama Sutra and choose a pose from it to draw. Her literature class, which would fulfill a writing requirement, covered traditional folklore, this semester with a focus on the tales of Japanese concepts of the otherworld, including fox spirits, kappas, and naturally, the Dream of the Fisherman's Wife. Every class she was taking had some suggestive element except for her robotics class, which she noted with some satisfaction that they at least hadn't managed to render her major area of study perverse.

Thumbing through her music player, she selected a playlist and stepped into the bathroom shared between the girls with rooms in this suite, selecting a shower and turning on the hot water with a sigh as steam began to fill the air, curling around her lush form. Over the sound of the music and the pounding water, Ayira thought she heard a sound coming from her room through the door joining it to the bathroom. She paused the music for a moment, listening, but upon hearing no further noise, decided that if someone was knocking, it must not be on her door, and returning to her relaxation. If it was her door, she reasoned, and it was Charlotte knocking, then she was only doing so out of politeness and had a key. If it was anyone else, they could leave a note on her door.

A blissful sigh escaped the coffee-colored young woman as she spread soap over her skin, the scent and the heat of the water relaxing all of the little tensions of her first day, and the cleansing solution helping to calm the niggling sensation of uncleanliness from that part of her mind that continuously quoted statistics like the percentage of skin cells she shed every day and the amount of oils trapping that dead-skin and bacterial sludge against her. She shuddered and rubbed her soapy hands together more vigorously, massaging the rich lather over her hands, up her arms, and moved in to gently encircle the ripeness of her breasts, stopping again with her fingers poised just over their peaks as her ears picked up a new sound, again seeming to come from her door. Is someone really standing there and knocking still? Or is that Charlotte coming in?

Natsuki bristled outside the door as it steadfastly declined to open for her. Fine, she inwardly fumed. She'd only knocked to seem polite anyways. Leopold would surely know where Ayira was and venting her annoyance on his unfeeling chassis would be sufficient to placate her until her new roommate arrived. With a sigh she turned the knob and thrust the door open, immediately thereafter freezing in place as the sound of running water struck her.

So that is where Ayira was! Voyeur that she was, Natsuki listened intently to the uneven splashes emanating from the bathroom door. For awhile she stood there quiet and pink, until she recollected that the dorm room was still open to the hallway, and she hastily kicked it closed lest some other student hear the same bewitching sounds that she was. It would be intolerable if any other girl shared in such an evocative moment. Leopold was present somewhere in the closet, but he was in standby mode and wasn't programmed to appreciate flesh the way she did anyhow. More importantly, now that she had Ayira locked away with her (Natsuki's hands absently turned the bolt even as she thought it) she could do more than listen and guess what tantalizing motions of her roommate belonged to which tumbling cascade of water.

Tiptoeing her way to the wall separating bathroom from bedroom, Natsuki plied herself to the colorless surface. Ayira's bathing became louder as Natsuki put her ear to the wall, more detailed yet when she cupped her hands over her other ear. Now she fancied she heard her paramour breathing. Faint, faint as a candle's flame in a dark field. Relentless underneath the dull pounding of the water. Did she smell a hint of the woman's shampoo as it slathered her richly complected skin? Was that a sweet sigh that she'd detected? Natsuki pressed herself further into the wall, feeling her own heat reflect and build as her dainty breasts were spread out against the unyielding surface. Ayira's hands must already be crawling over her hips. Foam must be gathering on that plush, callipygean figure.

Nothing is preventing me from shedding my material form, Natsuki contemplated. Excitement lifted her off her heels. Any time she chose she could doff her visible self, becoming like a specter, and join Ayira only inches away, and unknown. She might watch the nubile creature who thought herself safe and alone. In time though Ayira would surely sense her. As her apprehension mounted, once the girl was sure that some inexplicable calamity was imminent, then Natsuki would step forward and...

A knob squeaked, and the water's roar subsided into a flagging trickle. Natsuki made for the center of the room and hugged herself as she faced toward the bed. Her thighs shivered.

Clean and smelling faintly of soap, Ayira stretched one arm out of her shower stall to snag her towel from the counter running along the opposite wall, loath to remove her water-beaded form from the steam-filled shower until she at least had a towel to hug around herself. Wrapping the fluffy aqua cloth around herself snugly and securing it with a deft twist and tuck between her breasts, she stepped out with some reluctance, steeling herself against the cooler air. Large, liquid brown eyes surveyed her in the mirror, noting that her drying hair was already beginning to wind itself into the large, loose curls that her hair formed when it was left to its own devices. Eying it for a moment, she decided to leave it be, gently squeezing more water out of it with a smaller towel that she left draped over her head as she turned the bathroom knob and stepped out, a wash of steamy air following her as if giving her one last fond embrace.

Chocolate eyes framed by thick ebony lashes went wide beneath her rather comical headgear as she saw Natsuki standing, her back to her, in the middle of the room, slightly hunched and hugging herself. Surprise quickly morphed into concern, completely overtaking any brief concern for modesty, and she took a step further into the room, utterly innocent of the knowledge of just what made her roommate quake so.

"Charlotte? I didn't hear you come in. Are you all right? I was just coming in to get my pajamas, but I can let you have the room for a bit if you need some time to yourself."

She she's me like this and thinks I am distraught, Natsuki mused upon hearing Ayira's question. It was an opportunity. The real explanation for her posture would drive her paramour off, but she could use the student's misinterpretation to engender some sympathy and perhaps worm her way closer to her heart. If Ayira caught sight of the grin she was wearing it would be the end of the ruse so Natsuki bought herself a few seconds by shaking her head.

"No it's...I'm alright." There. The hint of a suppressed sob she added to the last word should pique any empathic inclinations Ayira might have. Meanwhile Natsuki used the time to marshal her emotional resources. Again, as she had often in the past, she congratulated herself on the days she'd spent teaching her eyes to shed tears and her voice to rattle as if thick with the ichor of suffering. She rehearsed a second more, recalling the mirror she used to stare into until her sight watered appropriately, and then bowed her head as the required burst of tears made their appearance.

"I-it's nothi-i-ing..." Natsuki sniffled. She turned her head just enough for Ayira to spy the fresh droplets freckling her right cheek. It was also enough for her to glimpse a pallid blueness twisted around Ayira's torso, though not enough for a clear sight of the girl's tightly pressed cleavage. She could smell her! This time it was no wishful notion; Ayira's tousled hair had a fragrance like a bouquet retrieved from the rain. Her skin had a comparatively mild perfume, but Natsuki detected it regardless, and could not resist inhaling the ripe womanly aroma. It was all far too tempting.

Natsuki whirled about as soon as she heard Ayira's bare feet approaching over the carpet. Inevitably she'd taken a step forward; it would have been callous to retreat at once. All that mattered to Natsuki was that the hesitant motion was a cue for her to fling herself into the other woman's arms, hold onto that fetching dip in the small of her back, and summon another bout of crocodile tears.

"I'm sorry." Natsuki distanced herself from Ayira after a brief, pleasant embrace. Ayira had been agreeably soft, and wet enough that some of her personal scent lingered on Natsuki's shirt, but she knew not to press her luck farther than the handful of seconds she'd already stolen. Hastily, Natsuki made to dab her face, muttering another apology. She had a story ready of course, something involving Melinda and a particularly vulgar suggestion regarding her rapport with Professor Akira. Hopefully Ayira would be polite enough not to pry. Already Natsuki had crossed the room to her own wardrobe while she fumbled deliberately with her buttons. It was best to appear embarrassed, ready to forget her imposition.

"So." Natsuki finished drying her eyes, flashing her roommate a weak smile. "It looks like you've settled in already. My things are here so Leopold must be in the closet by now."

A furrow appeared between Ayira's dark brows as she listened to Charlotte's quavering reassurances, feeling anything but reassured. Still, she couldn't tell if it would be better to encourage her roommate to talk about whatever was so obviously upsetting her, or give her some time and space to compose herself.

While she was weighing the merits of each option, however, Charlotte spun and clung to Ayira, the brief press of her body shaken by a small sob before she whirled away again, retreating across the room in an image of embarrassed contrition.

I just got clean!, an internal voice wailed, pelting her with horrifying images of mucus creeping over the bright, comforting aqua of her towel. Ayira brushed the images aside impatiently, perfectly aware that no such thing had happened; she had been unable to stop herself from surreptitiously checking to see if Charlotte had left any such fluids behind in their brief contact.

Ayira blinked slowly, realizing that she stood with her lips still half-parted with the ghost of a hastily stifled noise of protest still hovering on them. She watched Charlotte fidget with her clothes, one hand rising to rest against the twist holding her towel up (more for her peace of mind than any real concern that it would fall), responding to her proffered apologies with a determinedly calm voice.

Taking her mention of Leopold as an attempt to shift their focus away from whatever had so disturbed her, Ayira answered, "I hadn't checked to see where Leopold is, so I can't be sure if he's in the closet or not."

Then Charlotte turned and gave her a decidedly watered-down version of her usual smile, prompting Ayira to speak the words hanging in the back of her mind. "And... I don't want to pry, but if you do want to talk about whatever is upsetting you, you can. I won't mind."

Ayira had never been much good at dealing with crying people, being intensely uncomfortable with being a literal crying shoulder and never seeming to know what to say to soothe them otherwise, but she felt that she had to at least make a good faith effort.

"Oh, it's nothing, like I said." Natsuki literally waved off the question, appearing to force a brighter smile than her previous sham. "Just a very rude girl. I'll get over it. Why should I bother with vulgar philistines when I'm rooming with a beautiful mulatto roboticist?" It was an offhanded remark but it carried barbs, quite deliberately hidden in the otherwise harmless comment. It flattered Ayira, but it also labeled her. It conflated her value with transient aesthetics and portrayed her as an exotic. Natsuki allowed herself a moment of pride in her selection of words. Those classes on feminism that she'd eavesdropped on while stalking former paramours sometimes provided some effective psychological levers; after all, the Patriarchy had more practice manipulating women into dolls than even she did.

The buttons on Natsuki’s blouse were worried loose one by one with quavering motions, all intended to give her onlooker the impression that Natsuki was putting on a brave front. She didn’t want Ayira pressing her questions too hard, but she wanted to promote empathy. She wanted Ayira to feel for her. It would make it simpler to subdue her down the road. Shrugging out of her blouse with the characteristic unconcern for propriety that she’d already established upon their first meeting, Natsuki tossed aside the garment while continuing to speak.

“I’m going to go take a shower too, if you don’t mind.” Her back was to Ayira, shaped like a slender vase. Her stark white bra strap cleansed the image of any impure connotations. All calculated innocence.

“Leopold is in the closet.” She added after glancing inside. Her fingers went to pry off the fastenings of her skirt. “You should get to know him, so to speak. You seemed pretty interested in him before. Maybe you’ll have some ideas on how to improve him by the time I’m clean?” The skirt crumpled without ceremony around Natsuki’s ankles, and without glancing at Ayira she stalked past into the bathroom and closed the door behind her so softly that the knob failed to catch. Ayira heard the water beating on the bathtub a moment later, and an all too explicit sigh of relief as Natsuki stepped inside.