Chapter 17
by 
Kazza
What's next?
PROXIMITY HALL
Proximity Hall rises five stories, its narrow corridors crammed with students. The building's architecture mirrors the cramped poorer districts of Futoria, a deliberate choice, rumor holds, meant to harden the most privileged daughters of Futorian society.
Wooden floors creak under sandaled feet, and the walls are thin enough to transmit every moan, every wet slap of flesh, every gasped plea from behind closed doors.
Students comfortably traverse the hallways in various states of undress. Towels slip from damp hips, tunics hang unfastened. The air carries the mingled scent of lavender oil, sandalwood soap, and the unmistakable musk of futanari arousal, a perfume that grows heavier as dusk approaches.
In the aded bathhouse, futa soap their cocks while their academy sisters watch, calculating which wills to claim next.
What's next?
