The following is an extract from Margot’s NIS Journal: Wednesday Morning

I stared at the ceiling and tried to count the dots on one of the ceiling tiles. It wasn’t easy. The dots would occasionally blur and that made it hard to count. Also sometimes my body would jerk and my head would bang against the wooden bench I was lying on and I would lose my place. I shifted uncomfortably and glanced down the length of my body to where my legs dangled off the edge of the bench.

Morris Stymer was standing between my legs, thrusting in and out – that should help you understand why my body was sometimes jerking as he thumped into me. Morris’s face was pulled into a grimace and his eyes gazed off somewhere over my head as he fucked me. He was still wearing his shirt so I didn’t even have a nice manly chest to gaze at. And I couldn’t actually see the business end of the fucking from my position unless I strained upwards so I had a choice of looking at Morris’s straining face or looking at the ceiling. I chose the ceiling.

I was lying on a towel on a hard wooden bench, which meant I was never going to be truly comfortable. And then there was that dick being shoved up into me. It wasn’t painful or anything. In fact, I suppose you could say it was fairly pleasant. Being constantly naked and constantly touched had kept me constantly aroused so it wasn’t like I was too dry or anything. The problem was that I was lying there, getting a fucked, and I wasn’t getting more aroused. That’s what’s supposed to happen, isn’t it?

I sighed. I’d picked Morris because I’d thought he was kind of cute. This was my third time to have intercourse and I’d thought Morris would be it – the one who would ring my bell. I know they say we can refuse any sort of penetration but peer pressure is a powerful thing.

So yesterday, I had my first time because everyone was standing around and encouraging me to do it. I figured it was going to happen sometime this week anyway so why fight it? That first experience wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. And it was over almost before it began. Then I got asked again this morning at recess and I stupidly said yes again. Having said yes, I got pushed face-first against a brick wall and fucked from behind for all of three minutes before the boy spurted. I never even found out his name but the students all cheered and clapped the boy on the back so that’s what matters, right?

Peer pressure sucks.

And when Miss Granther asked me ever so nicely, in front of the entire class, to take part in her experiment, and they all immediately started clapping and cheering, how was I supposed to say no?

I gave up counting dots on the ceiling and rolled my head sideways so I could look at the class. They were all neatly sitting in their rows, staring in rapt fascination at the live sex act they had going on in front of them. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t getting more aroused. This was humiliating. Performing something that should be intimate and loving as a kind of experiment in front of rows of staring students was not my idea of fun.

I wondered what they were thinking. I could see quite a few of them with their hands busy in their laps, so it was obvious what THEY were thinking. I wondered how many of the girls were thinking the same as me and crossing Morris off our potential boyfriend lists. I mean it must have been obvious to everyone that he wasn’t doing anything for me. Because of The Program, I’ve seen fucking before. I’ve seen boys successfully bring a girl to orgasm any number of times. So has Morris. That made me wonder why he hasn’t figured out how to do it? Why wasn’t he even trying to do it? Or did he think that his simplistic rutting in and out of me was going to magically get me off?

For whatever reason, Morris was masterfully displaying his total lack of any skill when it came to fucking and he was using me as the object or target or whatever.

What is the percentage of women who don’t orgasm just from having a dick inside them? I forget but it’s pretty high. Apparently I’m one of them. I thought about reaching down and using my hands to improve the situation but then I remembered that the rules of the experiment were that Morris was supposed to do the work and I had to just lie there and let it happen. Those were Miss Granther’s exact words – “Just lie there and let it happen.”

Well, I was lying here but it wasn’t happening.

I looked back at Morris. His face was still pulled into that weirdly contorted expression but now his eyes were closed. Maybe, in the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten that he was fucking an actual real person as opposed to, say, a slab of meat or one of those inflatable sex dolls.

I sighed and rolled my head sideways to look back out at the class. This time, my gaze wandered further around the room and I discovered that I had been wrong. There was one student who wasn’t staring in rapt fascination. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t staring at all. The exception was Jacob, my partner for my Program week. He was looking down at his book and making notes, apparently oblivious of what was happening in the front of the classroom.

Should that be “oblivious of” or “oblivious to”? I couldn’t decide. I tried both permutations a couple of times and neither seemed wrong. But neither seemed right either. That mental excursion helped pass the time, anyway.

So Jacob appeared not to be taking any notice of the sex going on right in front of him. I worry about Jacob. He doesn’t seem to be interested in any type of sex – as in not even slightly. I’ve asked him to do a couple of things with me and he’ll do them willingly enough. And he has the most beautifully soft and gentle hands I’ve ever come across. But he doesn’t get excited about doing stuff like that. I can see it in his eyes – he’s just doing it because I asked, not because it does anything for him. I know he’s missing the physical parts which would normally show when a boy is excited but surely his insides are still the same.

I don’t get why he isn’t getting excited on the inside.

The room jerked as Morris gave an exceptionally energetic shove into me. When the room swam back into focus, Jacob glanced up at us with a bored expression on his face and then shifted his gaze to look out the window.

I rolled my head back and looked at Morris thrusting blindly between my thighs. “So this is sex,” I thought to myself. I decided I should be grateful that he had made this last more than twice as long as my first two experiences had lasted – combined. Then I wondered if maybe grateful was the wrong word. All I really wanted was for this latest humiliation to be over. Apart from anything else, it was starting to feel like my pelvis was developing a bruise.

I figured maybe a different angle might make it feel better. I lifted my feet up and propped my heels on the edge of the bench, rolling my pelvis to change the angles down there. Technically it might have been against the rules of the experiment but, to be totally honest, I had lost interest in the experiment.

Apparently I was wrong. The change in position didn’t make the feelings better. They were different, but not better. On the plus side, his banging was now bruising a slightly different part of my pelvis, so that was good. Or maybe that was bad. Did it mean I would be more bruised or just the same amount of bruised but with the bruise more spread out?

Morris felt me move and opened his eyes to look down at me. I looked back at him and gave him a little smile of encouragement. Then Morris glanced sideways and I saw the expression on his face change as he suddenly remembered that he had an audience.

I felt him falter and then I felt the hard dick inside of me suddenly soften. The next time he pulled back, his entire dick flopped out of me and didn’t go back in so he banged into my pelvis a time or two with his dick flopping around and getting jammed between us before he recognized that he needed to stop jerking back and forth. I couldn’t see it happening but I could feel some of what was going on down there and I could imagine the rest.

Morris looked down between his legs with a stricken expression on his face. He blushed and glanced out at the class before looking desperately at me. I sighed and put my head back down on the bench, staring up at the ceiling. I didn’t know what to do to help him. I could sympathise if he was starting to feel as humiliated as I was.

I stared at the ceiling tiles and sighed again. Between my legs, I could feel Morris working his fist up and down his dick in a frantic attempt to recover some of his former hardness so that he could finish the job. I wondered if maybe I should volunteer to put it into my mouth as a way of getting him back into working order but then I decided that would only result in more pounding for me without any hope of me getting anything in return. Besides, somehow Morris wasn’t looking nearly as cute to me now as he had earlier and the idea of sucking his dick simply didn’t appeal to me anymore.

Unfortunately, Miss Granther wasn’t prepared to let it go.

“Margot, apparently Morris is suffering from a little performance anxiety. Why don’t you help him out?”

I sighed and banged the back of my head into the bench a couple of times. Maybe I was hoping to knock myself unconscious as a way of escaping all of this.

“I’d rather not,” I finally said, looking straight up at the ceiling tiles.

I could feel Miss Granther’s glare beating down on me.

“Letting him put his dick in my mouth is a kind of penetration,” I explained, feeling defensive. “I’m allowed to say no.”

“You’re already letting him put his penis into your vagina,” said Miss Granther. “What’s the difference?”

“I’m a girl,” I said. “I’m exercising my right to change my mind.”

“I’ll do it,” chirped Lottie Nolan. “I’ll suck him off.”