Cat sat down at the desk in her dormitory. Pulled out the course envelope she’d been given at supper and pulled out the multi page questionnaire that was inside. Hadn’t she already completed a questionnaire with her application materials? Why was another one necessary only a couple of months later?

The top of the first page of the questionnaire had already been completed for her. The answers neatly typed on the form in her hands. It read like a birth certificate - name, date of birth, multiple identification numbers (wait, multiple identification numbers? She recognized her social security number, she wasn’t sure about the others). Parents, location of birth, siblings (if any), information about their names and ages and parents. Weird that the school would want to know the parental status of her siblings. Not that she had any. That entire portion of the paper was blacked out for her.

Below that, the information somehow became even more intimate and personal. Heart rate? Blood pressure? Blood type? She didn’t know any of that information - surely some of it fluctuated at any given moment throughout the day.

Body measurements were next. How was she supposed to figure out the length of her back from shoulder to hip? She couldn’t measure that on her own. She couldn’t even remember where she’d packed a tape measure. She doubted Max had one.

Bra size - that one she could answer - 36C - perfect, round, pink tipped 36Cs. If there was anything she knew she for sure had going for her in the looks department, it was her tits. She may have been as virginal as the daughter of a religious icon could be, but plenty - PLENTY - of boys had expressed both interest and appreciation for her perfect breasts.

Secretion: yes/no? What? No, she didn’t lactate. That was a weird question for an 18 year old. She continued down the form.

Do you menstruate: yes/no? Yes. She continued through the subsequent questions: date of first menses, date of last menses, average number of days you bleed, how do you manage your flow, do you cramp, on a scale of 1 - 10 how bad are your cramps… The questions went on and on.

From there, the questions became even more intimate and Cat was horrified to discover that many of the questions had already been completed for her. Questions about her virginity. Whether or not her hymen was intact. How intact they hymen was if it still existed (this was filled in “Complete” on her behalf). If it wasn’t intact, there was a question about dilation level and whether the girl was anywhere from A to F. Cat crossed her legs involuntarily. Even more questions about the size of her clitoris. Whether the urethral opening was visible. Vagina size. Length of labia. Measurement of the perineum. Almost everything had been completed. When and how had her genitals been measured to such accuracy?!

Cat flipped the page and felt the color drain from her face as she saw an entire page dedicated to rectal and anal measurements, reflexes, temperature, space to describe internal organs like the bladder, uterus, and ovaries. None of this information had been completed yet. Cat turned a dreaded look across the room to Max, but Max seemed utterly oblivious to Cat’s growing dread. She was sitting on her bed with a trashy romance novel. Cat wondered how she’d managed to get it past the patron who looked after their floor of the dormitory.

She continued on further still. Urinalysis results - shit, were they going to drug test her, too?! Oh god, that could only end badly. It had been at least two or three weeks since she’d smoked at the beach with her best friend, but she was fairly certain it wouldn’t be out of her system yet. She didn’t even want to think about what the punishment for that sort of infraction might be. Probably expulsion. Maybe it could be her ticket out of here.

At the very bottom of the page there was the simple question: Chastity belt required or recommended? The word “requested” had been handwritten on the form, next to a circled “Recommended”. “Installed” had been neatly typed in the space next to it. Oh no, Cat thought, more of the ladies were certain to go through what she had earlier in the afternoon. If she had to guess, the belts were usually installed by the dean.

Cat turned another page and that was when her blood officially ran cold on her. There was an entire list of corporal punishments with a number system of 1 - 5, apparently supposed to indicate how she responded to them. Spanking (bare hand), spanking (paddle), spanking (rod), spanking (other implement) - all seemed like the most benign options as the list went on to include choice options such as “strip search and display”, “stocks”, “solitary confinement”, and “whipping” (along with a list of various whipping implements that could feasibly carry out the task).

On the final page was a list of vaccinations and medical tests. All the vaccinations were dated with tomorrow’s date. Cat suddenly realized she heard her name, “Cat, Cat, Catty Cat,” being chanted in a happy sing-song sort of voice. Cat snapped out of her reverie and looked up to Max sitting on her bed.

“Qu’est que c’est, roomie?” Max asked cheerfully.

“I have an exam tomorrow,” Cat said, barely above a whisper. She turned back to the blank page about the rectal and anal findings. What was the dean going to do to her tomorrow?