Taboo University Novels & Stories

“Are you OK? You know, we don’t have to do the internship anyway.” “Yeah, we would just be sitting on the couch eating out a big tub of Ben & Jerry and watching marathons of our favorite movies. But it’ll be much funnier to be --” I click the intern-camp website on my phone,“-- a part of an old private university which was built in 18th century.” The host of the intern-camp, Paradigm University, is known for its prestigious principles, refined quality of education, and closed system. It refuses to accept students out of Region City where it’s located in.

Department Rumors💦🫦 The department chair’s words hung in the air like a threat as the meeting ended. "Lucas, we need to talk about some rumors going around about late nights in your office with Ava." Professor Elias, Lucas, met my eyes across the conference room table, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face. The other faculty members were already packing up their notes, chatting casually about the upcoming semester. No one seemed to notice the tension crackling between us. But I did. I felt it in the way his gaze lingered on me, in the way my thighs pressed together under the table, still sore from the night before.

I pulled out my phone and texted Marcus. Marcus was a guy I’d hooked up with a few times back in university. He was athletic, loud, incredibly confident, and always down for a distraction. He lived just twenty minutes away, and when I told him I was staying at a massive estate with a private pool, he didn't need any convincing. An hour later, Marcus and I were sitting by the pool, drinking cold beers I’d raided from the fridge. Marcus was in his swim trunks, laughing loudly at a story about his boss, while I sat on the edge of a lounger, dangling my feet in the water.

“Those stepbrothers won’t know what hit them.” “Shut up,” I mutter, but I’m smiling. We lock up and head out, the city air crisp with snow flurries. The café’s a short walk, a cozy spot with fairy lights and the smell of fresh coffee. We slide into a booth, and Jess orders a latte and a croissant sandwich. I go for black coffee and avocado toast, my stomach growling now that I’m awake. “So,” Jess says, leaning forward, “you gonna survive this Christmas thing? New stepdad, stepbrothers, your mom acting all lovey-dovey?”

She casually drops the bra on the floor, still focusing out the window. '"Taboo?' Really? Where the fuck did you find that word? Incest, Father. We are talking about incest. Having sex with your family." I shift in my chair. Maybe I'm too careful, but I need a clear sign. "Which is also illegal, and for very good reasons."

“What were you thinking?” Voices overlapped after that. “On graduation day—” “Can you even imagine the fallout—” “This is exactly the sort of thing that destroys trust—” Jason stayed silent, jaw tight as he kept his eyes on the polished table. “Please, everyone.” Hargrove’s voice sliced through the noise. “This deed has already been done. We just need to move forward.” A legal counsel representative cleared her throat and opened a folder. “The university policy on faculty–student sexual relationships is explicit,” she said. “Zero tolerance. There are also provisions concerning duty of care, power imbalance, and reputational harm to the institution.”

She spread them across the dining table like tarot cards and touched herself to every single one, hating how easily her body still answered, how wet she got remembering the exact pitch of Lila’s moan in the library stacks. December arrived with ice on the windows. The university erased her faster than she thought possible. Her faculty page vanished. Her name disappeared from the spring schedule. Colleagues sent polite emails that stopped just short of sympathy. She kept teaching herself in the dark. At night she lay in the bed that still smelled faintly of them both and slid a hand between her legs and whispered Lila’s name like a curse. She came quickly, efficiently, tears sliding hot into

Point of view: I am April Jane Santisima, a simple person but known as one of the brightest students in the school of St. Patrick Academy but name famous known not an Academy but a University. The owner change it when her Son manage it. I simply want to be able to study without being aggrieved, but why do they harass me every day? What wrong have I done to them so that they repeatedly bully me especially Karen who is a well-known queen bee or better known as the evil queen of the campus because of her bad behavior.

I thought the sessions with the psychologist would be more difficult. The topics we address are heavy, yet I find it easy to open up to her. Like Jane, I’m a very reserved person, and it embarrasses me to admit that I endured severe psychological abuse from my husband. I'm also ashamed of having had a lover. According to the values I was raised with, that was immoral—no different than being a prostitute. And on top of all that, I danced in a nightclub where illegal dealings took place.

“Yes, Sir.” As I stepped out of the car, the cool air hit my soaked panties, making me acutely aware of my denied arousal. Students milled around me, laughing and chatting about normal college things, completely unaware that my stepfather had just fingered me in the kitchen and forbidden me from coming. I walked toward my first lecture hall on trembling legs, my sore ass and throbbing clit a constant reminder of the new rules. God, how do I survive this?