"Do you have anything further to say for yourself, Allison?"

The girl shook herself back to reality. Miss Vennestroom was smiling cruelly, having put down her papers. She was tapping her long fingernail rhythmically on the desk top, staring at the young girl who cringed under the steady gaze.

"No. I don't know how that stuff got there. I really don't," Allison said, feeling the hot tears welling up in her eyes.

No, she wasn't going to cry. That would be an admission of guilt, and she was completely innocent. That Patty Harrington! She guessed it had been that dark-haired little bitch who had fooled the staff. But she had no proof, and she knew Miss Vennestroom would only laugh at her accusations.

"I see."

Erika Vennestroom was a tall, attractive woman, Teutonic from head to foot and severe in every way. Slender and long-legged, she walked with her shoulders back, emphasizing her full, high-riding tits that jiggled with each step she took. Her eyes were a strange icyblue color that seemed to look right through you as she spoke. Chills ran up and down Allison's spine as she sat in the dark office, feeling swallowed up by the older woman's gaze.

"You're trembling, dear. There's no need to do that. This isn't the inquisition."

Wasn't it? Allison wouldn't have been surprised if someone had popped from the shadows with a branding iron. Suddenly all those whispered stories about orgies and God-only-knows-what slipped back into her memory. She closed her legs, rubbing her knees together while staring back at the handsome young woman in front of her. Oh, how she wished she could escape from this awful place! Suddenly the thought of her mother coming back to retrieve her wasn't so awful at all. She would be back home, away from this ancient monastery and back with her friends!

"I haven't called your mother… not yet, anyway," the headmistress said, tilting her head back and narrowing her eyes.