Chapter 11

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL – WEDNESDAY AUGUST 20^th, 2047.

After we dropped off my daughter’s backpack at her locker, she switched to her mini-purse. The first class that I had to attend was a creative writing class. Imagine my surprise when I saw Doctor Randy teaching the class.

I followed my daughter as she pulled my lead. I kept my hands crossed behind my back. I was nervous and I was certain I’d be laughed at as soon as I walked in. All eyes turned to me as we were just about to be there before the bell. Doctor Randy said, “Ladies, it’s nice of you to join us. Unfortunately, there are no opportunities for relief since we’ve got a lot to cover! Hope it wasn’t a bumpy bus ride today.”

He made it sound like we’d be horny from the bus ride, and nobody seemed all that surprised by the arrival of two naked women to their class.

“I didn’t ride the bus, Doctor Randy,” Julie said as she took her seat next to Tiffany. Her mother was squatting when I arrived. The older woman looked a little shell-shocked, as if she hadn’t slept much. I noticed that she had big hoop rings through her nipples, and her pussy was dripping as if she had freshly had sex. Tiffany was sucking on the tip of a pencil in a very suggestive manner, like it was a penis.

“Time to take attendance,” Doctor Randy began calling out last names. When he got a few students in, he asked, “Bueller, Bueller?” a few times, but none of the students got the reference to the classic Ferris Bueller movie where the teacher drolly calls out his name in class.

When he got to Garner, I almost said I was here. My daughter answered, though. I was just supposed to be squatting and out of the way and only answer to Brittany. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get used to that.

Tiffany answered here when Doctor Randy called out, “Green.” Then she tapped her mother on the shoulder and took the pencil out of her own mouth. Her mother instinctively opened her mouth wide. Tiffany inserted the pencil lengthwise, and Karen bit down on it like a horse’s bridle. I was puzzled why she’d make her mother into a decorative pencil holder.

it seemed incredibly humiliating, and yet Karen looked bored.

“Alright, class. Today, we will start a chapter on erotic fiction. This is fortuitous because we happen to have four of the participants from the NIS Program. They may serve as some inspiration for you. I’d like you to begin by free writing. I don’t care about grammar or spelling. I just want you to pick a time in someone’s life when the most erotic encounter of their life began. It doesn’t have to be graphical, but it does have to arouse feelings of stimulation in the reader. I want you to write until the end of class and just dream about the plot without any structure. We’ll use these free writing exercises to brainstorm for your final project,” the Doctor gave everyone their assignments.

Meanwhile, I had to just remain squatting with my pussy on display to basically the teacher as he walked around reading people’s journals.

Tiffany left the pencil in her mother’s mouth for the entire class. Drool from Karen’s lips began to flow from her lips and onto her tits, but Karen did not attempt to wipe it off.

Randy came around to check on the papers, and he would comment on them. “This is just porn, Carl. Porn is all about the sex. Any plot or character development that happens is accidental. I am looking for Erotic.”

“I don’t care about all that dialogue and setup. Just get to the boning,” Carl shrugged.

Randy looked at another paper and quickly made a comment. “Okay, three sisters who all share one boyfriend? Why can’t they just get another guy?”

“It’s my fantasy, okay, Doctor Randy?”

“Good point, Elliot.”

I felt nervous when Doctor Randy’s corduroy pants brushed my leg as he walked past. He checked Tiffany’s paper next.

“Good effort. I like penmanship. There is a lot of bondage in this. Are you writing what you know?”

“A little,” Tiffany looked up at him flirtatiously.

Doctor Randy read over my daughter’s paper. “This sounds like what you did last night. Are you just writing about what your life is like?”

“I changed the names to protect the innocent,” my daughter answered coyly.

“I am not sure anyone in that story is truly innocent,” he snickered. Then he looked down at me and said, “Shame on you!”

I blushed. I wasn’t sure what my daughter was writing. I had let her spank me, sucked my husband’s cock, and slept at the foot of her bed, but I wasn’t sure that qualified as “Erotic.” It had been quite an adventure since it began. He must have thought whatever I did was very naughty.

When the bell rang, the teacher made everyone stay seated until he dismissed them.

Tiffany pulled her mother up by her lead. Karen kept the pencil in her mouth like a gag.

“How is training your mother coming along?” Tiffany asked politely.

“Fine, I see you pierced your mom’s nipples?” Julie asked.

“That was something she wanted, wasn’t it, Karen?”

Karen nodded yes. They would have kept walking, but some boys pulled Karen and Tiffany aside to make a reasonable request.

My daughter’s next class wasn’t very far, and we arrived quickly. The teacher had short hair, and I quickly determined she was a lesbian. She was very stern in nature and looked at me up and down when I entered the class. She gave me a look of derision.

Her name, “Ms. Gallisen,” was written on the chalkboard next to the word “Calculus.”

“Ms. Garner, would you and your Breeder like some relief?” the teacher asked in a very proper and curt manner.

“No, thank you, Ms. Gallisen,” Julie sat down in her chair. Ms. Gallisen didn’t seem pleased that my daughter didn’t take the offer.

“You are a bit old to be bred, aren’t you?” she asked me as she looked down her nose at me while I squatted on the floor.

“I think I am the right age to be a Breeder, Ms. Gallisen. I am 37.”

“You certainly don’t look it,” Ms. Gallisen made the comment sound like an insult.

There were no other NIS participants in the class, but one of the boys in the back of the room had no clothes on. Ms. Gallisen asked him if he would “take care of yourself, please, Mr. Garcia.”

There was a little laughter, and then I imagined that the student began to masturbate. I couldn’t see because my back was turned to him. Ms. Gallisen continued class as if nothing was going on.

I didn’t attend Calculus in high school, and I was never that good at math. It was fascinating, but it completely went over my head. They were working on something called the “Squeeze Theorem.”

In a few minutes, Mr. Garcia got up. I saw the naked boy holding his hand in a cupped position and walking toward the garbage.

“Where do you think that you are going to put that, Mr. Garcia?”

“The trash!”

“Go to the bathroom, wash your hands thoroughly, and return as quickly as you can,” Ms. Gallisen insisted sternly. I watched as the humiliated boy left class holding his own semen. A few people giggled and chuckled, but Ms. Gallisen directed everyone’s attention back onto her.

“Class, everyone knows what Mr. Garcia is discarding. Your attention should now be focused on me!”

If someone had jerked off in front of everyone when I was a teenager they would probably go to jail for lewd an lascivious acts. The repeal of public decency laws and restrictions on nudity in public made what the student did perfectly legal.

I had never seen anyone actually do it in public before though. I assumed it was considered socially unacceptable. Other than a few snickers and guffaws, no one seemed all that surprised by it. I surmised that by growing up around and seeing it in school, these students didn’t freak out the way my generation would have at the same age.

When the student returned, he looked a little red-faced. His cock had shrunk back down, and he was smiling. He looked at Karen and me, and I noticed his eyes go right for my pussy. I saw his cock twitch as if it were getting hard again!

I rationalized that the open masturbation at the start of class must have originated because there was no other way to manage all the teenage boners that were going to “pop” up. It probably wasn’t the original intention of the Program. However, if teenage boys constantly get stimulated and have no way to release themselves, what else could they do?

From a purely practical point of view, that actually made sense. It was still scary to think that my kids had obviously seen other boys and girls openly get themselves off, and I wasn’t even aware of it until now.

After the class, my daughter explained that Ms. Gallisen was “definitely a lezzie” and that’s why she was so willing to accommodate girls having relief but frowned about boys doing it.

“I thought Doctor Randy, was a medical doctor?” I asked as I followed my daughter through a crowded hall of mostly clothed students. I had to walk with my hands behind my back, but I could at least follow my daughter and she created a bit of a path for me so that I didn’t have any head-on collisions with on coming students.

“He’s a doctor like Doctor Pepper,” Julie frowned.

“He took my blood and examined me,” I felt a little betrayed by that.

“He’s one of the teachers who is very active as a volunteer in the NIS Program. I think he was a medical doctor at one point, and then he decided to become a teacher. Why are you worried about it?”

“What if the fertility tests were performed incorrectly?”

“I doubt that. Modern science makes it pretty easy; there are home tests that could tell you that. Are you having doubts about the Program?”

“I am just nervous, Julie,” I said as we approached the NIS workshop room.

Julie turned to me, stroked my hair, and told me that she was really proud of me. “You are doing better than I could have imagined.”

I blushed for a totally different reason than I normally do. I didn’t feel humiliated. I had difficulty accepting praise, but it did feel good to hear that from Julie, and Julie’s words made my pride swell.

“Karen does this so much better than me,” I said. “She seems fearless like nothing can possibly rattle her, and she’s so gung-ho about it all.”

I was also thinking that Karen was much prettier than me. I felt very unpolished compared to Tiffany’s mom.

“It’s your first day, if you were fearless, I’d be worried about what happened to my mom. You’ve done well. Are you ready to go into the Workshop?”

“What happens in there?”

“I don’t know. This is my first time in the Program as well.” Julie sashayed confidently into the workshop room. She was so well put together and on top of things. I knew she had attended the school for three years and observed how the Program worked as an outsider, but she also made me proud. I regretted not telling her that when she paid me the same compliment. I was too bashful and tongue tied to say anything.

We were one of the first in the classroom. Ingrid was already down in the squatting position. Astrid was sucking her thumb and looking down at her sister. “Hello,” Astrid greeted my daughter, but not me. I didn’t wave back, but Julie did.

I waited for Julie to choose a chair, and then, without being told, I squatted down, spread my legs as far as I could, and put my hands under my tits while leaving my mouth open slightly. Julie gave me a quick smile.

The others arrived a little before or after the bell, and Trainers took seats while their respective Breeders squatted by their feet. The NIS coordinator joined us after that. She seemed rushed, as if she were hurrying from place to place. Ms. Collin’s long red hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her nipples were particularly red and sore as if they had recently been spanked or sucked on.

“I am glad to see you are all on time. The teachers will give you some leeway from class to class as long as you are performing reasonable requests. However, if you are more than a few minutes late, you may face discipline. I try to be accommodating because I myself perform reasonable requests, and I know how difficult it can be to say no. However, if you are more than a few minutes late to my workshops, I will discipline you just like any other teacher would.”

“Now that I got that important announcement out,” Jen sighed and looked around the room at us. “Let me ask a few questions to see how everyone is feeling. A show of hands is fine. How many of you performed more than five reasonable requests while at school already today?”

Hands went up from all of the Breeders. I quickly counted the ones that I completed in my head but didn’t include Dewey and Reese because they were my sons. I felt a vibration in my collar. I looked up, and my daughter’s expression suggested that I should raise my hand.

“You seem to be having trouble deciding. Did you do five or more requests, Brittany? There is no prize for most requests performed. At least not today,” she smiled.

“Yes, I did. I was just trying to remember how many,” I raised my hand.

“That’s okay. It can be difficult when you get caught up in the moment. Today, I’ll give you some tips on reasonable requests, how to manage your school time while fulfilling requests, and some good rules of thumb. First, I want to ask Trainers to pass up their journals.”

My daughter handed in the notebook my daughter had been writing in last night. I wondered if she wrote down that she punished me.

“I see that all the Breeder’s registered last night on the Portal, except for one,” Ms. Collins looked down her nose at Crystal.

“Everything was so chaotic last night. My sons and husbands kept me doing reasonable requests until half past midnight,” Crystal apologized.

I thought that must have been a nightmare for her. I was shocked that her kids would be allowed to give her reasonable requests at home. Judging from Ms. Collins’s expression, it looked like Crystal was going to get in trouble on top of it all.

“Is that true, Misty? Did your mom not have time to get on the portal?”

“Yeah, we fell asleep. It was a long night.”

“Were you aware that as a Trainer, your Breeder has to obey you?”

“Yes, of course,” Misty replied.

“And with that authority comes the responsibility that she would trust you to make wise decisions on her behalf, like when to say that the reasonable requests need to end so that your mother could have reflective time on the NIS Portal?”