Chapter 5

"I'll wait for you," Cheryl's mother said as she parked the car.

"Wait... ?"

"There's something we need to talk about," her mother said. "There've been ... I've been wondering ... that is, have you been seeing some boy and haven't told me?"

"Of course not," Cheryl said.

"Not even in ... there?" Her mother waved at the building housing The Construct's local offices.

"Not even there," Cheryl said. "I'm told you can watch what goes on. There really isn't much to see, though. I lie down, put on the helmet, and that's it." She narrowed her eyes. "What makes you think I've been with ... that is..."

"I do the laundry," her mother said. "Your underclothes have had some indications that made me wonder."

"I think they have tapes of previous visits," Cheryl said. "You can review those, too."

"Well, I hope for your sake there's nothing to it," her mother said. "You're a pure young woman, and I shudder to think of what might happen if that should change."

"Well come in and watch," Cheryl said. "You won't see anything improper."

They checked in. Her mother watched as Cheryl took her place in the chair. She arranged a blanket over her legs, and slipped on the helmet. She squirmed slightly, making herself more comfortable, and then lay still.

"Is there any way we can see what she's seeing?" her mother asked.

"It takes a doctor's permission slip," the receptionist said. "I'm sorry, but that's the law."

Nettled slightly, her mother sat down with a magazine. She leafed through it, not really paying attention, her eyes going back to the video screen of her daughter.

There were no two doubts about it, Cheryl thought as she tried to relax. Craig Bonner had the biggest cock she had ever seen. She caught her breath as he wedged the head of his monster inside her. He'd fingered her to a climax once already—that was the only way she knew to get wet enough for him—and so it should have been easier. Maybe he'd grown or something. No, she decided, that was impossible.

He pulled out, repositioned himself, and thrust again. He got more in her, but only half of his length at most. But it would have to do. He began sawing back and forth.

Cheryl moved a little. She'd learned that if she moved too much when she was fucking Craig, he might pop right out. But she had to move, so she did as little of it as possible. Still, he was gradually getting deeper, and that was good.

He came before he could bury the entire length of his monster in her. She thought for sure he would rip her open if he did. But his come left her nice and wet for the next guy, Tim Rogers from her Chemistry class.

Tim was more normally proportioned than Craig, though he wasn't short by any means. When his pubic hair nestled with hers, when she felt his balls against her bottom, she sighed happily. He was reaching right up there inside her, and she wrapped her legs around his thighs.

"Want to make sure you're not going anywhere," she murmured at him.

"As if I would. I'm happy right where I am."

He began moving, and in seconds she was matching him. It was the same old dance, with the same ecstatic conclusion. She hung and hung and hung, so close, but not quite there. Tim labored manfully, and it wasn't until she sucked his nipples that he came. She felt his gushes against her cervix, and that was all she needed. She burst into a million pieces, a wild, happy climax that left her panting for breath, but glowing with happiness.

Tim cradled her in his arms, and together they regained their composure.

"Aren't Mondays wonderful?" Cheryl asked.

"Yeah, too bad we have classes this morning. I'd rather be doing this."

"Me, too." She squeezed with her pussy muscles, and he smiled and kissed her. "You act like you want some more."

"Promise me you'll be ready to go right after our first class."

"Always have been, always will be."

With that they had to part. She made a sound of disappointment when he slid out of her. She could feel his come, or maybe it was Craig's, pouring across her bottom. She was hot and sticky, and her hair, so carefully brushed out that morning, was a mess. She felt glorious.

"Ever wonder if we're all oversexed?" Karen Douglas asked a few minutes later as they walked down the hall to Home Room.

"I don't think so," Cheryl replied. "Why do you ask?"

"How many boys will you have sex with today?"

Cheryl shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really count."

"How many Friday?"

"Oh..." Cheryl counted to herself. "Six, I think. One before class, one at lunch, that was my boyfriend, at least one in the shower after P.E., or maybe two, and a couple other than that."

"I was with two," Karen said, "and one of them was my boyfriend at lunch. And I'm not counting the boy I sucked off in P.E."

"So I like boys, lots of boys."

"I think it's something else," Karen said. "Your grades are pretty up there, much higher than mine. When do you do your homework?"

"Some of it here, some at home."

"See, I think that's the difference. I do my homework after every class, and at home." She snorted derisively. "It's not like I have a social life, not like the last school I was in. Then I had two dates a week, and I was 13. Now all I do is study."

"Maybe I use it as a break," Cheryl said. "I don't know. What brought this up?"

"I had to help with the freshmen," Karen said. "You know how they are."

"I remember when I started here I was mortified about going naked." She slapped her hip. "Now I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Me neither. And I saw their faces. Hard to believe that none of them had ever really looked at their bodies."

"Or at boys."

"Well, I can understand that. The outside world goes to great lengths to make sure girls don't see boys, and boys don't see girls. Look at all the foo-faw over some girls who dance naked in a bar."

"I heard about that from my folks," Cheryl said. "My father thought it was sinful, and I won't even get into what my mother thought. I never understood what was so sinful about it."

"My mother said 'Never give a boy what he wants. It's your only hold on him.'" She shook her head slightly. "Maybe that's why my parents got divorced."

"Did your Dad have a girlfriend on the side?"

Karen nodded. "We found out that he used to see her at least three times a week. She lives in the next county, and that's all that I know about her."

"If they'd gone to school here," Cheryl said, "they never would have thought twice about it. Having sex with someone doesn't mean you're in love with them."

"I couldn't say that," Karen said. "My mom believes that you only have sex with someone if you love them."

"I admit it's more fun with my boyfriend," Cheryl said, "but I know he's screwed other girls. It's hard to avoid that around here."

Karen smiled. "It's almost impossible to avoid it around here." She paused at the door to Home Room to flick her hair back over her shoulders. "Have a great day."

"You, too," Cheryl said automatically. She settled in her seat, remembering those first days she'd been here.

When she'd stared at the naked boy—she still had on her panties but the teacher had had her remove her bra—her first thought was how a girl was supposed to take that thing that was hanging between his legs. She'd felt between her legs. She could barely get her little finger in there. How did they expect her to take his thing?

She'd learned over the next two days. She smiled at the memory. First, after letting a boy see her naked, and see between her legs, she'd learned to touch herself, and give herself an orgasm. Then it was multiple orgasms, and with it, feeling her boobs, and especially feeling what it was like to pinch her nipples.

After that she'd learned how to do a boy with her hands. The first time he'd come she'd gotten so excited she almost couldn't stand it. The teacher had had her rub herself to completion, which hardly took any time at all. She'd done it twice more, only with different boys. Late that afternoon, after getting used to seeing boys naked, and being seen by them, and generally being around boys with erections because they got them around naked girls, she'd followed the advice of the teacher, and licked his thing.

It was a far cry from actually sucking him, which was a relief. She'd been surprised when he'd come, spurting his stuff all over her face. Some of it had gotten in her mouth, and she tasted it before she spit it out. It had a flat flavor, and was a little salty. It gave her a lot to think about that night at home.

The next morning the boys learned how to lick her. She moved that to the top of her list of things she wanted to do a lot. She spent the rest of the day licking and sucking, and being licked and sucked. She couldn't remember much except one incredible orgasm after another. The teacher explained it. When a girl had a climax, she was just about perfectly set up for another one. Boys, the poor things, had to rest a little before trying to come again. The good news was that a teenage boy had plenty of endurance, and with a little training could come several times a day.

The third day they started with classes, but with time to lick and suck each other as the whim took them, provided they didn't do it in class. P.E. had been the most fun, and she remembered sucking some boy until he came all over her face and tits. That had been her last class of the day, and not 10 minutes after he'd come she'd met her mother at the front entrance.

The first half of the fourth day was spent with classes. The second half, though, after lunch, she'd had sex for the first time. The boys had apparently been coached, or at least that's what she and the other girls had pieced together afterwards. The boy had licked her all over, and finally between the legs. After he'd done it a second time, and got her really excited, he'd pushed his cock into her.

She hadn't known what to expect. Oh, her mother had told her how much it hurt, and how she should bear up with the hurt as a dutiful wife, but she wasn't somebody's wife. And it had been uncomfortable, but only because she had muscles that hadn't been used before. And event hat wasn't entirely true, she'd exercised those muscles a lot every time she'd come.

Afterwards she couldn't wait to do it again. And she did a few minutes later, though with a different boy. That'd been just as good, if not better, and she'd clung to him as she lost control. She'd come so hard and so long she nearly passed out. The boy came, too, and she actually felt him when he did. His whole body had gotten hard, and then she felt his muscles tense repeatedly as he pumped his come into her.

Right after that they'd have to shower as if they'd been in P.E. and get ready to go home. Her mother had asked her how her day had been, and commented on how happy she seemed. She'd replied that she'd learned a lot in school that day. Thankfully her mother hadn't asked just what it was she'd learned. How could she say, "Fifteen minutes ago I was flat on my back, my legs wrapped around a boy while he pumped his come into me." That would definitely not do.

She sighed, letting the memory go. She'd learned a lot in the 18 months since that day, not the least being that she liked to have sex, and that she liked the variety of multiple partners.

"And how was it?" her mother asked when she joined her in the lobby.

"The same as always," Cheryl said. "I don't remember much. I'll admit I feel a lot better after one of these sessions."

"That's the whole idea," her mother said. She glanced at her watch. "We'll have to step on it. You need to be back in school in 15 minutes."

The math teacher didn't say anything, and the rest of the week flew by. She had more aches and pains 'down there, ' and her math, which she'd thought of as a challenging class, was so easy she could do her homework in 10 minutes. To fill the time she was supposed to be doing her homework, she let her mind drift and wrote out whatever 'homework' came to mind. They were always advanced math, and she handed it in every day. The teacher would grade it, and she always had the answers to the questions right.

Friday night, after going to bed, she stared at the ceiling. There was something going on. Suddenly all of her classes were easy, and she knew things way beyond what a sophomore girl on the non-college track should know. It had to be something going on at The Construct. Were they teaching her things and she didn't know about it? Well, there was one way to find out.

She'd read that the only people who could see the tapes of the actual session, what she was seeing and experiencing, were authorized members of the staff, and herself. Privacy laws said her parents couldn't even see, not unless they got a court order. So if she went over there in the morning—she'd say she was going riding and Merilee would cover for her—she could ask questions. They'd tell her what was really going on.

Satisfied with that, she rolled over on her side and went to sleep.

Deciding to do something, and doing it, turned out to be two different things. The offices of The Construct were too far to walk, so she had to raid her slender stash of money and ride the bus. Then she had to walk several blocks. The people in the lobby let her in after she showed them the card she'd been given. She was shuffled from one person to another before a woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Bainbridge sat down with her.

"I want to see what's been going on when I've been in The Construct," Cheryl said.

"We can arrange that. Why, though?"

"I'm not sure," Cheryl said. "Let me explain a couple of things, and maybe you can tell me what's going on."

She recounted her math homework, and Mrs. Bainbridge finally nodded. "All right, I can arrange for you to view your experiences. How long do you have?"

"Most of the day."

"All right. Come with me."

Mrs. Bainbridge led Cheryl down the hall and they rode up an elevator. After a walk into another wing of the building, she knocked on an office door. A thin woman with blonde hair, and who looked like she was in her 20's, looked up, smiling.

"Hanna? I'm glad I caught you. I'd heard you'd come in today, but I thought you'd have gone home by now."

Hanna smiled, but her eyes narrowed when she saw Cheryl. "Is there a problem?"

"She wants to see what she's been experiencing in The Construct."

Cheryl recognized Hanna as the woman who'd claimed she'd been from another school. But she was part of the staff. Just what was going on?

Hanna looked uneasy. "Um, a word with you, first?" She drew Mrs. Bainbridge off to one side. They whispered back and forth, and finally Mrs. Bainbridge rejoined Cheryl.

"Is there a problem?" Cheryl asked.

"The material might not be, ah, age appropriate," Mrs. Bainbridge said. "You're too young to see some of the tapes."

"The law says that to view the tapes you make I have to be 13 or older," Cheryl said. "And so does the contract we signed. I'm 15, I'll be 16 in three weeks."

"You might be shocked," Mrs. Bainbridge said. "I'm trying to warn you, and protect you."

"I understand," Cheryl said. "I'm just pointing out that you have no choice. If I want to see those tapes, I can, and I want to see those tapes. There's something going on, and I want to know what it is."

Mrs. Bainbridge shot Hanna a look. "Very well," she said slowly, "go ahead. Hanna? Will you stay with her in case she has any questions?"

"Be glad to," Hanna said. "Will you come with me?" She left the office and walked to the other end of the hall. There was a security door there, and she took Cheryl through into what was clearly a control room.

"We can watch from here," she said, drawing out a couple of chairs. "The controls in front of you will let you zoom in on anything you see. They'll also let you move around the room so you can watch what's going on from any angle."

"Will it put me in my head?"

Hanna smiled and shook her head. "We don't have that technology yet," she said. "Arrangements can be made, though, for you to experience things first-hand when you're in for a session. In your case ... I'm not sure. We'll talk about it afterwards."

She typed in several commands. "This'll take a couple of minutes to load," she said. "I don't know how much you remember of your time in The Construct—"

"Almost nothing," Cheryl said, "except I remember taking Honors Trigonometry. I've turned in homework for it, which surprised my teachers."

"Yes, well, that's one of the things that's been happening during your visits. You'll see what I mean." She glanced at the console in front of her, and then entered a command. "I've just picked a day at random. We'll speed through it, and any time you want to slow things down to normal speed, just use that control next to your right hand. Hit it twice quickly, and it'll go to super slow motion."

Cheryl made herself comfortable, her eyes on the screen.

It started out pretty normal: she was in her bedroom at home—alone, she noticed—and she woke up. She disappeared into the bathroom down the hall, emerging a few minutes later still dressed in her bathrobe. She felt a little uncomfortable watching herself dress, but this was going at quadruple speed or something, and nothing was really visible.