Taking the Class - Cover

Taking the Class

Copyright© 2019 by Ivan_Ronical

Chapter 4: Thursday Morning, 6:00AM – Despair

Horror Sex Story: Chapter 4: Thursday Morning, 6:00AM – Despair - Eighteen years after World War I ended, countries involved in the conflict began seeing the rise of Classes within their populations. This development shaped history. The year is now 20XX. Classes are regulated and mundane. Students are taught how to prepare for the Skills, Traits, and Quirks from a Class. After her eighteenth birthday, Alaina Bishop must come to terms with the gap between the future she's always fantasized about and the cruel new state of her life due to her Class.

Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Blackmail   Mind Control   Reluctant   Horror   School   Cheating   Masturbation   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Slow  

Her eyes had been crusted shut when she woke up, sending her into a brief panic, but she relaxed when she realized she was in her own bed. Awake.

What the fuck was that? Her heart was thundering away in her chest. She began picking particulate out of the corners of her eyes. Fuck. With a week like this it’s better that I don’t remember.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The motion triggered a further realization. What. I’m ... Why am I wet? She reached down, trying to assess the severity of the situation. Her eyes flew open, and she was now fully awake. She scrabbled in the dim morning light for the switch on lamp next to hear bed, then threw her covers towards the foot of the bed.

Did I wet the bed? What the fuck? She pressed her right hand into her panties, middle finger slipping inside of her without even the slightest of resistance. Nope, that’s one fucking miracle for the week at least. Incontinence has not become a problem. She giggled aloud, only slightly hysterical. It took on a throaty quality as her mind chose that moment to catch up to her body’s arousal.

Hold on. She moved her finger experimentally. Why don’t I feel anything from this? She pulled the digit out, moving it to that spot a little higher up...

No. Please no. No no no nonono. She reached into the drawer of her nightstand, retrieving Henry. She frantically inserted the dildo, moving it in and out a couple times experimentally. No way.

She fell back on her bed, her legs hanging off and the base of the sex toy protruding from her nether region. I can’t feel anything. I can’t feel anything! She groaned.

This must be a fucking Class Quirk. Like how Mom is always curious about everything to an almost uncontrollable degree. But whyyyyy? How can I get this turned on and not be able to do anything about it!


“11:45 quick,” she sent the text just as Ayanna came into view, dropping the phone into her purse. If he says no I think I might lose my mind. She tapped her finger against the cool metal that she was leaning against.

She’d made it out of the house and arrived at her locker by 7:15, waiting for her friend to show up. Her arousal had remained constant, proving a formidable opponent when it came to focusing on her usual morning routine. Cereal with milk and a side of orange juice had nearly become cereal with orange juice and a side of milk, eyeliner had almost gone on her lips, she tried to pack a salad directly into her lunchbox without using a plastic container; myriad problems assailed her when she became unable to concentrate.

And the whole time, she’d been leaking. Drip, drip, drip. It was like she had a faucet between her legs that she couldn’t shut off. The sensation had been maddening, and she’d twice stripped her lower body to wipe herself down in the shower in order to clean up the sticky mess running down her vulva and onto her thighs. In a moment of quick-thinking and desperation, she’d inserted a tampon and put on a set of black bikini cut panties under a charcoal mid-length skirt just before leaving the house. She’d also put two extra sets of panties and tampons into her purse. Her body was out of control, and she didn’t know if or when it would be back to normal.

“Yo, A, got your message. Lookin’ fancy!” Seeing her friend’s agitated state and oddly formal attire, Ayanna eyed her more critically. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record, you okay, A?”

Alaina grabbed her friend’s hand and dragged her towards the entrance of the auditorium’s backstage area. She didn’t speak, somehow feeling that she needed a safer place for this.

“Whoa, slow down! Where are we going?” They carried across the stage to the lighting booth. Alaina opened the door and went in. “Um. Okay. Wow. Uh. A, I know this is your spot when you wanna get your itch scratched, and I’m really really flattered? But um ... I don’t really think of you that way? Wow, I wish—”

“Just shut up and get in here. I’m meeting Spencer later to get that taken care of. Hopefully.”

Ayanna’s face lit up in relief and she let out a deep breath. “Oh, that’s great. Okay, Whew.” She walked into the booth and closed the door behind her. “Yeah, um, sorry about that, but you’ve been acting weird, and then you call me over to your little love shack early in the morning with your face all flushed and you’re breathing kinda hard—”

“Ay, please. Just ... shut up.” Alaina pressed a hand to her face.

“Right. Sorry. So how’d your date go?”

Alaina went still. With the weirdness of this morning I’d almost forgotten. “About that. First, I’m never, ever, listening to you again for anything related to dating. Second, this was way worse than any of the other disaster dates you’ve set me up on.”

Ayanna put on a skeptical face. “Way worse? Do you even remember the guy who came to pick you up a his pimpmobile? With the fuzzy dice, the bouncing hydraulics, and—okay, that one was also my bad, but I’m just tryin’ to remind you of the competition—”

“Ay, it was so much worse.” She began relating the blow-by-blow. Ayanna helpfully interrupted with her thoughts along the way.

“You serious? I told you to go with the flow because he was probably harmless, not space out and be totally defenseless!”

“Where?! I didn’t think he had it in him. Shoulda guessed though, he was pretty bold asking you out in the classroom like that.”

“Please tell me you’re joking. He just leaned over and laid one on you? No talking, no lead-in?”

“Wait, wait. A, that’s not how guys work. They erupt from their lower parts when they get worked up.”

“What the fuck? I’m sorry, did I hear you right? Hold on it went in your boots too?”

“I gotta say I didn’t believe it but you were right, that’s way worse.” Ayanna was caught between laughing and gagging in disgust when the tale was done. “I totally understand why you didn’t text back last night. What the fuck, A, your life is fucked up!”

Thanks, I know. “That’s not even the worst of it, Ay. Well, maybe it’s the worst thing that’s happened? Anyway, This morning I woke up and found out my Class has Quirks.”

Ayanna raised her hand. “Shouldn’t you know about those already? I mean, I got my class and when I thought about it I knew I was gonna be keeping a lot of notebooks for scheduling. And I’d have a great sense of time.”

I probably would have, if I wasn’t too terrified at what I think I’d find out. “Um. I haven’t thought about it?” she put on a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Her friend furrowed her brow and opened her mouth, then closed it and leaned against the wall. Her face was pensive. After a moment, she nodded. “Yeah, okay, I might do the same if I were you. Damn, that fuckin’ sucks, A.”

“You have no idea,” said. Alaina tipped her head back, bouncing her bun of hair gently off the wall behind her. She draped an arm over one of the levers on the light board around chest level, the flowing sleeve of her white blouse swaying from the motion. “To start with, I think it’s making me horny.”

“That kinda makes sense?” said Ayanna.

“It ... Does it?” Alaina’s mind felt like it was melting from the combination of prolonged arousal and the sauna-like confines of the lighting booth.

“Think about it. With that Class, it’s like your body is literally made for sex now. Stands to reason it’d have to be ready for sex at any time, right? Er ... I mean ... Sorry, I kinda forgot I was talking about you and not um, a sex toy in the abstract?” Ayanna made a sheepish grin.

“I suppose that does make sense, even if it is depressing to think about.” Alaina frowned. “This isn’t any normal kind of horniness either.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t wanna gross you out, so I’ll just show you this...” The student council president opened her purse, showing her friend the contents.

“Um, okay. Wow. So that’s like ... flood prevention gear, huh?”

Alaina’s face was scarlet. She nodded, closing her purse up and returning it to her side. She saw the indicator flashing on her phone as she pulled the zipper: 1 new message.

“And that’s not the worst part,” Alaina lowered her voice to a near-growl in order to express her frustration. “I can’t fucking do anything about it.”

Ayanna cocked her head.

Argh, even the word is making me hornier!

“Yeah, I got that from what you had in your purse, A.”

“No, I mean I can’t do anything about it.”

“You mean...” Ayanna’s mouth dropped open. She held up and wiggled her fingers. “Nothing?”

Alaina shook her head. “I can’t feel it.”

“What about—”

“Nope, nothing.”

“And by ‘can’t feel it’ you mean...”

“Well I can feel it, obviously, it’s part of my body. But it doesn’t do anything for me. Like I’m poking myself on the arm or something.”

“Damn, that’s rough.” Ayanna said. Then her face took on a guarded expression. “Um, I don’t wanna sound like a bitch—you know you’re like a sister to me, A—and I’m here if you need a shoulder to cry on, but uh,” she looked down at her friend’s crotch, then back up to her face. “I’m not gonna—”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Ay, I already texted Spencer. Let me see,” she unzipped her purse and checked her phone. Wouldn’t hurt him to be a little more verbose than ‘k’. She did feel relieved, however, as she zipped it back up. “He said yes, and we’re meeting before lunch, so you’re off the hook this time.”

Ayanna let out a comic sigh of her own relief. “Spencer’s really taking one for the team today. He’s not gonna be able to walk this afternoon with how wound up you are. Wait, you’re cutting class for this?” She put on a nonplussed expression. “Damn, A! Skipping class to get your ex to bone you and cheat on his girlfriend? That’s kinda fucked.”

“Like you’ve never cut class to have sex? Spencer’s reliable and can keep his mouth shut. Great qualities for a guy to have.”

“I don’t get why you ever broke up if you’re gonna keep banging him. Sofia’s a nice girl, she doesn’t deserve this.”

“Sofia’s just a slut.” Alaina scowled. “She thought Spencer was on the rebound and tried to drown him in pussy. She doesn’t give a shit about him, she just wants arm candy.”

“Well with boobs like hers she usually gets the arm candy she wants. She even gives Ms. Perez a run for her cleavage. And she’s not that bad, she’s just a bit of an airhead. You’d probably get along if you stopped being mad at her for scooping up your leftovers.”

“I’m not mad! And he wasn’t left over, we were still—”

“I know you were still fucking after you broke up, but who else knew? The mental gymnastics you did to reason out that breakup are too much for me.”

“Argh! For the last time, Ay. We’re better as friends. He has that whole machismo thing going and was way too possessive when we were dating. He’s a lot more manageable this way, and we both get what we want. It’s win-win!”

“One of you gets what they want, at least,” Ayanna muttered, almost too softly to be heard.

“Oh, he’s pretty reliable in that too, Ay.” Alaina bit the corner of her lip as she recalled a past dalliance.

Her friend sighed, shaking her head.


The morning passed in a blur. Alaina fought to remain focused, but her body remained uncooperative. It wanted only one thing, and she was disgusted. Or, at least, I probably would be if I wasn’t so fucking horny! It feels like it’s actually worse than when I got in this morning. How is that even possible?!

Each of her teachers had asked—in their own unique way—if she was feeling okay. Even the normally detached Mr. Dietrichson had paused his lecture on Opportunity Cost to ask if she’d like to visit the nurse. She’d held her countenance, despite her face feeling like a nuclear explosion of humiliation at the sudden attention, pulled her head out of a particularly engrossing daydream and buckled down to resume taking notes about a topic she knew forwards and backwards due to reading so far ahead.

She’d been forced to dash into a bathroom during third period, unable to deal with the hot, squishy feeling tormenting her for another second. She sat on a toilet, dabbing at her engorged, drooling labia with toilet paper in a futile attempt to stem the tide of sexual fluids. She’d already wrapped up the tampon she’d been using and discarded it into the sanitary waste bin. The crotch of her previous set of panties looked like it had gone for a swim without her. The zipper bag in which she’d stowed them lay in her purse; it had felt moist, even from the outside.

I wish I was dead. They don’t prepare you for this kind of thing in Sex Ed. Nobody thinks to ask, “What happens if the body doesn’t stop being aroused?”

She dropped the dripping paper into the toilet between her legs. This is like trying to dry up the ocean with a hand towel. She sighed, digging out a replacement tampon from her purse. I should have brought more than two spares...


Fucking finally! Her eyes were bright as she half-snuck down the hallway towards the auditorium for the second time this morning. It’s lucky I’m the responsible and virtuous Student Council President; I don’t think Mr. Neilson would have let anyone else cut the last ten minutes of his class like this.

She could barely recall the excuse she’d used at the start of the period, so clouded was her mind in its fog of lust and desire. Something something meeting adviser before lunch. Hopefully he doesn’t check? He probably will. A problem for later!

She licked her lips. Relief was so close. She could practically taste it. I did taste it, that one time. She giggled. Not nearly as easy as they make it look in porn, that’s for sure. And cocks feel so big in your mouth!

Alaina burst into the lighting booth. She looked around, eyes wild, her breath heavy and close to panting. She was alone.

Fuck! She fumbled with the zipper on her purse and checked the time on her phone. 11:45. It’s 11:45, so where’s my dick?

She knew she was being irrational. A more sober Alaina would have been appalled at the thoughts running through her head, but there was no sobriety here, no shelter from the parade of sex fantasies roaming through her mind. She’d stopped in the bathroom on her way over, discarding the newer tampon and stowing the now-soaked panties. She only had one set left, so she’d gone commando.

Her thighs were covered in her juices. It felt like every part of her body was on fire. The slightest touch on her skin should have provoked a mind-shattering orgasm. Should have. This fucking Quirk! She beat her hand against the wall. I can’t even sit down. The back of my skirt would look like I sat in a puddle.

Mercifully, the door cracked open. A broad Latino face poked in: close-cropped black hair and thick eyebrows over gentle hazel eyes topped a face she’d never thought she could be so happy to see.

“Spencer!” she squealed. Wait a minute, I don’t squeal.

“Ey, Alaina, I haven’t seen you all week! You look gorgeous as always.” His thick, kissable lips curled into a natural smile that made her pussy clench in anticipation. He stepped the rest of his trim body into the tiny room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He towered over her, even from a few feet away.

Were his shoulders always that broad? She bit the corner of her lip, hard, as her eyes soaked in the features of her ex-boyfriend. It had only been two weeks since they’d last had a clandestine meeting, but it felt like she was seeing him for the first time. Football training really, really suits him. She stared at his jeans, searching for the telltale bulge he always had when they met like this. She nearly dove at him when she spotted it.

He reached into his pocket, producing a condom. “You have a towel?”

“No towel,” she said, actually beginning to pant, “I forgot. We can do it standing up, I don’t have to be on top today.” She teased her skirt upwards, revealing her mons. It glistened in the light that filtered through the latticed window from the stage overheads. “I’m so wet already,” she whispered in a breathy tone. “Don’t make me wait, Spencer. I need it.” She brought a finger down, running it through the patch of exposed red pubic hair above her slit before dipping it into her juices. I can’t be more seductive than this. He’s got about five seconds before I tear his pants off.

Thankfully, her boy toy didn’t hesitate. “Damn, girl, I don’t know what’s got your motor all revved up, but I like it.” His grin widened, his eyes turning predatory. His gaze locked on to her finger as it pressed against her clit. “Lemme show you what it’s like when you’re not on top. Just make sure not to scream too loud.”

Please, please don’t let that be false bravado. I need this so bad.

He moved towards her, pants still on.

“I don’t need foreplay,” she said, trying to expedite the process of getting herself stuffed with a cock. “Just stick it in!” She turned around, facing the wall, and hiked the dark hem of her skirt up to tuck it into the waistband.

She could feel his stare on her, and mentally she followed along as he took in the view. Her unblemished white legs stood out in stark contrast to the dim light, feet perched on wedge platform shoes which pushed her toned calves up and out. Her gleaming thighs leaned towards him, drawing his eyes up to her drenched, pulsing pussy.

“Fuck me,” he muttered.

She looked over her shoulder at him, the second time this week she’d been in a similar pose. Come hither.

He took a couple shuffling steps closer, seemingly overwhelmed. His hand stretched forward, softly caressing her naked butt. “Shit, Alaina, all that biking is paying off. Your ass is fucking amazing.” He gave it an experimental, almost reverential squeeze. “Fuck...”

Spencer’s hand trailed down to her lower lips, feeling her wetness and heat. The touch sent shivers through her, and she shuddered, not noticing when the fingers disappeared. She heard movement behind her.

Any second now. She braced herself against the wall, facing forward.

Seconds passed. She looked over her shoulder.

Spencer stood there, staring alternately at his sticky fingers and then back at her, a cramped expression on his face.

“Actually, Alaina, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while,” he rumbled, the bass in his voice sounding like pure sex to her addled brain. “I um,” he stared down, then back at her bared genitals. He flinched slightly. “Can you maybe, um, cover up a bit? I...” he paused, running his dry hand through the stubble on his cheek.

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