Poll Driven Story: “The Academy: Burnouts” Episode One Part Four

Alright perverts, the fourth part of episode one of “The Academy: Burnouts” story is ready for you to read! You can find it, and the voting for what happens next, below the cut off. You can also find the story in its current entirety HERE.

A quick note: this is a pretty long entry which is part of why it took me so long to get it finished.

 

* * *

 

The teacher of the Early Superhero History class was by far the strangest teacher they had yet encountered. He was one of the unlucky P-Gene actives whose body had mutated when he had gained his powers.

Mr. Kilcrow was a massive man with the superhuman bulk only possible for one with an active P-Gene. He bulged with muscles and had a body that was bent over in almost simian manner. Adding to the beastly sense of his demeanor were overlarge hands and feet too large for any kind of shoe. Each of his fingers and toes were tipped with nasty, large claws that looked as though they could easily tear through almost anything. On top of all of that he was covered in thick, dark red colored fur leaving him looking more animal than man.

Yet he showed up to class dressed in fancy dress slacks, a perfectly cleaned and pressed button up short with a red tie that perfectly matched his fur. It was true that the clothing seemed to barely fit his bulky frame, with the space between the buttons on his shirt open as though the buttons were about to pop off. He completed his outfit with small rectangle framed glasses that gave his beastly body a confusing academic air.

“Please take out this year’s history book and turn to chapter one,” he says to the class, speaking in crisp perfectly enunciated words. “As first years you will be learning mostly about the first generation of humans with active P-Genes, the heroes and villains of World War Two. This will probably take most of the year, but if we have time we will also be covering the post war years when many of these same heroes and heroines began setting the norms that you will all follow after graduating.”

Someone in the back of class raises there hand.

“Yes, you in the back,” Mr. Kilcrow says, pointing a clawed finger at the boy.

Angela turns to look at the boy asking the question. She’s noticed him before; he’s small and has greasy hair and shifty eyes.

“Yes, sir, I have a question before we begin. I’ve skimmed our text book and didn’t see any sign of answer to it. Is there any evidence of humans with an active P-Gene before World War Two?”

“Ah, yes, a very interesting question indeed,” Mr. Kilcrow says with eagerness in his voice. “The truth is we don’t really know. Mendelian genetics weren’t rediscovered till about 1900, and it wasn’t till the late forties that genetics became a field of research we could even begin to describe as ‘modern’ with the P-Gene itself not being discovered till well after World War Two was over and the first generation of supers had all retired.

“Many believe that the supers active during the Second World War were the first generation of super, and that previous to that time there weren’t any humans with an active P-Gene. This is what your text book says and what is considered the consensus of historians that our curriculum will follow. There are many theories as to why no P-Gene’s activated before that point, but none of them have any real proof to make them more theories.

“But, there is the handful of theories that posit that humans with active P-Genes have been with us since the beginning. Perhaps rare, but always present. It would be an easy explanation for many gods or legendary heroes from early history. What I find most interesting is a bit of backwards extrapolated date. Here, let me explain.”

He turns to the white board behind him and starts drawing a graph on the board. Starting near the lower center of the white board he draws a line that gradually curves upwards and to the right. The nearer to the right side of the board it gets the sharper its incline.

Pointing to the starting point he turns to the class. “This point in our chart represents the number of humans with an active P-Gene during World War Two.” He begins following the line. “About here would be nineteen-fifty, here the sixties, and onwards to the present day. As you can see the number of humans with an active P-Gene, and thus superpowers, has increased with each generation. The numbers are hard to pin down, but it HAS been more than a steady increase.”

Turning back to the class he continues. “Some suggest that this will only continue and that one day in the distant future ALL humans will eventually be P-Gene active. But what does this have to do with your question? Well, if we were to take the curve we see here and assume it was a constant, moving back before World War Two you could see that there MUST have been those with powers in the past, they were just rare.”

“But,” he says, his voice firm, “and this is a very important ‘but’, there is no evidence of any. And many think there could never be, not without a well preserved body that could be genetically tested.”

The class then moves on to the first chapter of their books, Mr. Kilcrow giving a lecture on the America Supers of world War Two. He talks in brief about the main heroes active in the European theater: Major Captain, Victory Woman and her young sidekick Victory Girl and Betty Bombshell. He also mentions the other most famous heroines that were active stateside such as Sky High, the first known woman able to fly, and Riveting Rosie.

“Most of you have heard most of these names before, you might even be familiar with some of their exploits. But there were other supers active at the time, most of them mostly forgotten by history. Turn to page thirty-seven and you can see a few pictures of some of the lesser known heroines, most of them only serving publicly for a short time.”

Angela turns to the page and starts looking over the pictures. She giggles slightly at how old the simple costumes and ancient hairstyles make the women look, even though most of the women were probably only a few years older than her when the pictures were taken. One of the women even has a hairstyle incredibly close to what Ms. Smith wears today.

Looking closer at the young woman in the picture Angela notices that the woman looks like Ms. Smith in ways that extend past her hair style. She has the same basic facial features, although decades younger, and the same general curvy and thick build although the woman in the picture looks a bit thinner.

Could this be Ms. Smith’s grandmother in the picture? Angela has no idea if an active P-Gene is something that is hereditary. Thinking about this just makes her realize how much she has to learn. And thinking about that makes her realize that she’s zoned out and is no longer listening to Mr. Kilcrow.

“And that just about fills our allotted time up for the day,” Mr. Kilcrow is saying. “Now, I want you all to read closely through this chapter as there will be a test next class covering its contents. And if you could also read chapter two and be prepared to ask any questions you might have during our class next week. That will be all, class dismissed!”

As Angela walks through the halls with Beth and the Glorias she opens her book and shows them the heroine that looks like Ms. Smith. “What do you all think?”

“Could be a relative of hers,” the Glorias say in unison.

“That’s what I thought,” Angela says. “Maybe her grandmother?”

“Maybe,” Beth says. “Sky High’s granddaughter graduated from The Academy a couple of years ago. She ended up joining that one team in Destiny City, you know the one I’m talking about?”

“Yeah,” Angela says, “Destiny’s Children?”

“Yeah, that one. The one that American Dream leads.”

“Oh, we like her,” the Glorias say quickly all at once.

Beth rolls her eyes. “Why, cause you all look like her? Like perfect blond Barbie dolls?”

“And what’s wrong with that,” all of the Glorias say, furrowing their brow in honest confusion.

During their conversation they had left the building where their history class was in and wandered back towards the dormitories. Beth is just about to respond to the Glorias when they turn a corner to find a sight that makes all six women stop in their tracks, staring in temporary disbelief.

Before them is one of the older students, an attractive girl with dark hair and overlarge breasts. She’s laying on her back on one of the couches in the common area, her uniform zipped all the way open so her breasts hang free and her privates are fully exposed. All around her are naked men, their clothing scattered nearby on the floor. One stands by her head, fucking her throat as it hangs over the end of the couch. Another is on the couch with her, between her legs and fucking her pussy. Another sits on her chest, fucking her tits. Another simply stands beside them all, the woman reaching up and using a free hand to jerk him off.

“Oh my,” Angela says, staring at the gangbang before her and instantly feeling her body respond to the sight with moist arousal. From the awkward shuffling and slight moans coming from her friends they are experiencing the same thing. “Does she need help?”

“No way,” Beth says, “she’s having the time of her life! Listen to her moan and look how eagerly she’s taking all those dicks.”

Angela turns to her friend, a curious look on her face. Beth sounds almost envious of the woman and the way she’s looking at her… like she wishes she was in the middle of those boys.

“Wait,” one of the Glorias says, narrowing her eyes and looking at the sight before them closer. A moment later all of the Glorias gasp. “It’s just one guy!” they shout in unison.

A disinterested older student totally nonplussed by the sight on the couch walks by. “Yeah, that’s Muliti-Pete. He can split into copies of himself whenever he wants. Jane really likes being fucked by a ton of guys at once, so they’ve been going steady for a while.”

“But… why are they… you know, out here in the common room?” Angela asks.

The older boy just shrugs. “Guess they couldn’t wait till they got back to somewhere more private. Happens all the time, these couches have seen more action then… well, then someone who’s had a lot of sex. I don’t know, just don’t stare, its rude!”

But stare the six girls do.

Beth is the first to speak and break the awkward silence. “Um… I think I need to head back to my room. I need to, uh, ‘clear my head’.”

Angela knows exactly what she means. “Yeah,” she says, taking one last look at the figures on the couch, “me too.”

“We’re going to stay and watch,” the Glorias say in unison. “That Multi-Pete is pretty hot,” one of them adds with a sheepish grin.

 

* * *

 

The next day it was off to their first Introductory Exploration of Super-Powers class.

“Are we sticking to this one class a day schedule for the rest of the semester?” Beth asks.

“I don’t think so,” Angela says, pulling out a binder and flipping through it as they walk. “One of the papers we got said they’ll post the schedule for the week every Sunday, and that some weeks we’ll have some classes more than once… It says here that some weeks will be more physically intense and will need more down time between or after the physically intensive classes.”

“Today,” one of the Glorias begins with another ending her sentence, “must be one of those days!”

“Yeah,” Beth says, her voice excited, “I’ve been waiting to start our physical training since day one!”

“I wonder who the teacher is going to be,” all four Glorias ask in unison.

“Teachers,” Beth says. “There’s two, according to what I heard. Let’s just head to class and find out!”

All of the power and combat centered classes, except for on special occasions, take place not in the building with the traditional class rooms but in a larger one full of gym like rooms. Moving through the halls the six girls can see that some of the rooms are more high tech then others, looking more like something from a comic book than a college campus.

Looking through windows as they pass by different rooms they can see some larger rooms that are rigged up with holographic projectors to make the simulations inside more lifelike. They see rooms that look as though they are inside a busy city street or out in the woods, the holo-projections make the walls look like distant horizons.

In many of the rooms they see students sparing against seemingly identical metal men. These “Synthomen” look like naked humans without any genitalia. Their bodies are silver in color and look both metallic and fleshy at the same time.

“I think this is where our class is,” Angela says, looking at the room number before them. Inside is a large gym, very reminiscent of their high school gyms back home. But stepping in they found the ground feels… wrong.

“Weird,” Beth says, bouncing up and down on the ground. “It LOOKS like it should be hard wood, but it feels bouncy.”

“That’s because it’s made of a high tech material that’s resistant to physical damage,” a charming male voice says. The girls turn around to find a stunningly handsome Hispanic man dressed in the all black jump suit the teachers wear. “I’m Micheal Guerrero,” he says, giving the girls a friendly wave. “I’m the co-teacher of this class. And you six are?”

Angela and Beth introduce themselves and after that the Glorias explain that they are all technically one person. “How very interesting,” the man says. His interest is obvious and intense, making the four blonds swoon at the attention.

“I think they’ve got another crush,” Angela whispers to Beth.

“Me too,” she replies, “he’s dreamy!”

More students come wandering into the class and the six girls get shuffled out of the way. Micheal Guerrero seems to want to greet each of them personally, shaking many of their hands and charming every one that passes through the door.

Angela and her friends soon notice a pile of duffel bags in the center of the gym each labeled with the schools insignia and the names of the students in their class. Many of the other students are already digging through the pile of bags and retrieving the one with their name on it, so they do the same.

Inside they find a few spare uniforms, all tailored to fit them perfectly. There are also a few neatly folded towels and what looks like soap and shampoo.

“I guess this is a none too subtle hint that we’ll need a shower and a change of clothing after these classes,” Beth says.

A tall woman with a muscular build and impressively large breasts comes into the gym them. Angela finds the woman’s physique strange, clearly feminine in its general shape yet so muscular that it is undeniably masculine and the woman carries herself in a very male way that only adds to the sense of gender confusion she feels while looking at her. Her hair is platinum-white and cut short, with styled flared points extending down the sides of her face. “Alright class, gather up,” she says loudly. “Now that my partner here is done with the charm offensive I think it’s time we get things started. If you haven’t retrieved the bag with your name on it now’s the time to do that.”

She waits a few moments for the last handful of students to retrieve their bags. Nodding she smiles at the class. “I’m Professor Katlyn Saxton, but you can all call me Ms. Kat.”

The male professor sidles up to her, giving the students another charming smile. “And you can all just call me ‘Mike’. Together we are going to be leading you first years in your Introductory Exploration of Super-Powers class.”

“This is going to be an incredibly physical draining class for some of you,” Ms. Kat begins saying as she steps up to the class, “even for those of you with powers you might think of as not physical in nature. The point of this class is to push your current limits and begin exploring the true natures of your superpowers.

“Many of you are uncertain what your powers are. In this class we will help you discover their full extent. Many more of you probably think you already have a clear understanding of what you can and can’t do with your powers. The truth is all of you almost certainly have things to learn about what your bodies can now do.”

She takes a step back, allowing Mike to take her place. “Many supers find years into their career that they have untapped powers that have been lying dormant since their P-Gene activated. Our goal here at the Academy is to send you out into the world as the best possible hero, and that means discovering all of those secrets BEFORE you graduate.

“As such, we will be pushing you in this class. Some of you may find the experience tough and at times unfair. You may feel like you’re being singled out and asked to do more than other students. Rest assured that even if this is true it’s all for a reason. Ms. Kat and I have been doing this for years now and we’ve developed an instinct on who has other powers waiting to be discovered.

“Today, however, things are going to be simple. We’ll be splitting into two groups and taking turns one at a time showing everyone what powers we have. But before we start Ms. Kat has some words on hygiene.”

She stands forward and gives the class a short speech on the importance of hygiene before and after these classes. She goes over the basics of showering, explaining how important it was to not only keep their bodies clean but to cut down on the bodily smells that come after intense physical workouts.

“You may have noticed, but hormones are running high here at The Academy. Body odor and the pheromones that are produced during physical exercise and training only intensify this. And for those students with heightened senses this is all only made more intense. It’s essential that after EVERY physically oriented class you shower thoroughly and change into a fresh uniform.”

Soon after her speech the class splits into two different groups. Angela, Beth, and the Glorias make sure they are all in Mike’s group, as do most of the other female students. The males seem as equally drawn to the strong and busty Ms. Kat.

One of the few exceptions is the greasy haired boy that Angela had noticed during the Early Superhero History class. The boy is starting to give her the creeps, he always seems hunched over and withdrawn and she frequently catches him staring at her. Just as she is about to point the boy out to her friends Mike calls on the first student, making her totally forget about the greasy boy.

The first girl to be called up before the others is mousy with a small, thin build and orange-red hair. She tells the class that she has telekinetic powers and shows them off by lifting some gym mats that are stacked nearby. She seems really shy and says that she still doesn’t have good control over the things she can move with her mind, a fact that is obvious by the swaying and wobbling of the mats as they hang in the air.

“That’s okay,” Mike tells her then turns to the class. “Most of you will find that you don’t have detailed control over your powers yet. Along with exploring what powers you have we will be working on refining your control of those you already know about during this class.”

After that a few other girls go up, most of them showing off simple enhanced agility, super strength, the ability to fly, or mixes of all three.

“Some of you might be noticing a pattern,” Mike says jokingly. “Along with enhanced physical toughness these four powers make up the “normal” set of abilities most of the active P-Gene population has. But let’s take a break from this power set and see someone a little different.” He looks around the room, pointing at the Glorias. “Gloria, why don’t you come up here?”

Nervously the four identical blonds explain their power, seemingly bashful that they don’t actually seem to be able to do anything beyond hearing each other’s thoughts.

“And you say there seems to be no limit to this power, no matter how far apart any of you get? That power alone could be incredibly useful. Instantaneous communication from four separate points with no infrastructure or gear required? That alone could be a powerful boon to just about any super team. And working ‘alone’ you’re a team all on your own!”

He turns to the class. “And over time, with the right training, Gloria might find that she has other powers. Either ones undiscovered or just not manifested yet. Some of you won’t have secondary or tertiary powers kick in for months or years, maybe not even till much later in life.”

When Beth goes up she shows off her superhuman agility, doing back flips and leaps over gym equipment that would impress even an Olympic gymnast. And when she is done she points out, with pride, that she’s had no training at all. “The moves just come to. When I’m in the moment my body just knows what to do.”

Mike nods. “This is pretty normal. Some of you are going to feel that you, like Beth here, just ‘know’ what to do with your powers, when and how to use them. Many of you that are struggling right now might find this disheartening but this instinct is something that will almost certainly come to you in time.”

When Angela is called up she finds herself sweaty and shaking with nerves. Noticing this Mike steps close, placing a calming hand on her shoulder in leaning in so only she can hear what he has to say. “It’s alright, Angela. I heard about what happened in Ms. Smith’s class. Control of your powers WILL grow easier and you need not worry about losing control, especially here. Your fellow students are probably far more resilient than you think so you need not worry about hurting them and I doubt you could harm these facilities even if you wanted to.”

Taking a step back from her he turns to the class. “Angela here has magical powers. This is one of the rarest and most interesting power sets. In all of my time here at The Academy I’ve never seen two students with magical abilities that work exactly the same. Even so, we will help Angela learn to use her powers as well as the rest of you will learn to use yours.” He turns to Angela, “Okay, show us something.”

“Um…. Okay.” She raises her hands, concentrating on the strange distant place inside of herself that her powers come from. Her hands begin to glow red, magical energy pulsing from them.

Her instinct is to lift something up with her powers, as that’s something she’s done plenty of times. But it feels like it’s too close to what the telekinetic girl did. Perhaps because she is thinking of that girl her powers manifest right before her. A blob of smoke like transparent red energy forms in front of the telekinetic, causing her and the girl she is standing nearest to jump back in surprise.

Tendrils of red energy snake out towards them, billowing like flowing smoke into the two girl’s eyes, nostrils, and open mouths. Both girls scream in alarm, the smoke flowing into them more quickly and making their eyes glow red.

Mike rushes towards Angela, throwing an arm out and slapping her hard across the chest with the back of his hand. The blow is strong enough to knock her back and onto the ground. The rest of the class gasps in alarm but then sees that as soon as he slaps Angela the red mist disappears.

“Sorry about that,” Mike says, extending a hand down to Angela to help her up. She’s rubbing her chest, still trying to understand what she had been doing with her powers. “But I’ve trained enough magic users to know that disrupting the casting of a ‘spell’ usually gets rid of it. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Not too bad,” she groans. “I’m sorry, I was trying to do one thing but I got distracted and—”

“And you cast a spell you didn’t mean to. It’s okay, really.” He turns to the two girls. “Everything alright over here?” he asks them.

They both look shaken but unharmed and their eyes are now back to normal. “Yeah,” one of them says. “It was an accident, I understand.” The other girl nods her head agreeing. They both look fine, although both of their faces are flush and their eyes have a strange glassiness to them.

 

* * *

 

Angela ends up staying behind when class is over, getting some quick advice from Mike about how to better control her powers. He makes it clear he won’t know exactly what she will need till he is able to spend more time with her, but he tells her some things past magic wielding students have found useful in controlling their powers.

She finds the advice helpful, but the truth is Angela mainly stays behind because she doesn’t want to face the two girls she accidentally used her powers on. The spell didn’t seem to do anything to them and they both said they understood, but she is afraid their opinions will change away from the watchful eye of the teacher.

When she finally heads into the gym’s locker rooms it’s so late after class that she expects to find the area empty. But as she enters the room she can hear two voices, faint but echoing through the otherwise silent room. Nervously she moves forward, peaking around a row of lockers to see who is still here.

She almost gasps, having to struggle to keep herself quiet in spite of the sight she sees. There, sitting on a bench before a row of lockers, are the two girls her powers accidentally hit. They are both naked and wet, clearly having recently showered. The red haired telekinetic girl is sitting on the bench, her legs spread wide open. The other girl is sitting in her laps, her legs wrapped around the red haired girl and bouncing up and down as she kisses her.

“Holy shit,” the girl bouncing up and down is saying. “I can feel it inside of me! It’s like you’ve got a huge cock filling me… I can’t see it but I can FEEL it!”

The red haired girl is moaning, grabbing the other’s perky ass. “I can feel it too,” she says with a gasp. “It’s like I’ve created a telekinetic cock that I’m fucking you with. God, your pussy feels amazing!”

“Is this… can you always… God, so deep in me! Can you always do this?”

“No,” the red haired girl says with a moan. “Never done this before. I just… after that weird girl’s magic hit me I felt so fucking horny and I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you. And as soon as we were alone it just… It just happened!”

I did this, Angela thinks, knowing instinctively that her magic caused this to happen. Her magic made both girls horny for each other, made it so the telekinetic girl could use her powers this way. And knowing she’s responsible makes the sight somehow undeniably enticing.

Angela stays hidden just around the corner form the girls. She leans up against the lockers, silently peering around the corner and watching them. “So hot,” she whispers, watching the girl bouncing on the red head’s lap, watching her full breasts bounce up and down with the rest of her body. She reaches down, unzipping the bottom of her uniform and slipping a hand in to touch herself. She starts squeezing her small breasts through her uniform, pinching her nipples as she fingers her pussy and watches the two girls fuck.

What am I doing, she thinks. I shouldn’t be masturbating like this, not here, not while watching these two. Yet I can’t stop… I can’t stop till I get off!

Angela stays hidden, continuing to peel around the corner and masturbating to the sight of the two young women fucking till she gets off. Her orgasm is strong, making her legs feel weak. Almost as soon as she begins cumming the telekinetic girl’s invisible cock seems to disappear. The girl on her laps seems to fall down, confused. “What happened, where’d it go?”

“Oh no,” Angela whisperers, quickly ducking all the way around the corner. “My powers… they were still affecting them! When I came it must have drained them and stopped the spell. I’ve got to get out of here before they realize what happened…”

She quickly, but quietly, grabs her bag and leaves the locker room, planning on showering back in her dorm room and hoping the two girls never realize she was behind what happened to them.

 

* * *

 

That night Angela stays very quiet as her friends talk about the day. The Glorias can’t shut up about Mike, talking about how smart and attractive he is. Beth mostly agrees, although she wants to talk about how impressed he seemed with her grasp of her powers. Neither of them seems to notice how quiet Angela is.

Her quiet extends to the next morning as they are on their way to their next class, “Introductory Physical Combat.” The class is a nice end to the week, simple and straight forward. They spend the day learning simple hand to hand combat, basics like how to throw a punch and how to take one. They each get to practice against the Synthoman, a robotic sparring partner able to take an endless number of hits without complaint or fatigue.

Angela uses the full day of physical training to unload all of the frustration, fear, and confusion that’s been building up inside of her. She punches the synthetic man over and over, slamming her fists into its metallic yet soft flesh till her knuckles are raw. Still she continues punching and eventually her emotions overflow and cause her powers to activate.

Her fists, glowing red with magical energy, slam into the Synthoman. The energy blasts into the robot, making it quiver for a moment before it explodes in a shower of metal scrap and wiring. Some of the class is impressed, but others whisper darkly about how Angela clearly doesn’t have any control over her powers. The classes teacher seems unconcerned and simply moves Angela to a different Synthoman for the rest of the class.

After that the weekend passes quickly. They all have some reading to do for their history class but mostly spend the time relaxing. Many of the first year students seem to spend the time getting to know the campus better, wandering about and exploring the different buildings. Many more have split off into small social groups, keeping mostly to their own little groups the way that Angela, Beth, and the Glorias have.

The weekend is nice and relaxing, except for one thing. No matter where they go the greasy haired boy seems to always be near, staring at Angela.

“What’s his deal?” the Glorias all ask in a whisper obviously spoken loudly enough to be overheard by the boy.

Beth rolls her eyes, throwing the boy a glance then looking back at Angela. “He’s got a crush on Angela, duh!”

“Gross,” the Glorias all say loudly, throwing him a glare that sends the boy skulking away with his cheeks burning red.

Once the boy is out of sight Angela starts giggling quietly. “That was pretty mean of you two,” she says, “but I appreciate it. He’s been giving me the creeps all week. Hopefully he’ll leave me alone now.”

 

* * *

 

Monday morning it was off to a full day of their sexual education class. Coming into the class Angela finds Ms. Anya and Mr. Walker already waiting for the class.

“Come in, come in,” Mr. Walker is saying to the students as they came through the door into the classroom. “But please, don’t take a seat yet. We need the class to divide in two, men on this side of the class and women over here.”

Once all of the students arrive and split into the two groups Ms. Anya steps forward. “Today is going to be a long day. We’re going to be starting out with something simple but that will take time. And it MAY make many of you uncomfortable. That discomfort over matters such as this is something you ALL need to get over and doing so will only come through practicing being in situations like you will find yourself in today.”

She pauses, looking out at the students and making eye contact with as many of them as possible. “Today we will be conducting what many students refer to as ‘the weighing and measuring’. We’re going to start with the girls. So, if all of you young ladies could please come and make a single file line starting right here that would be much appreciated”

As she speaks Mr. Walker gets out a large scale, placing it on the edge of one of the teacher’s desk near the front of the line that is forming. Many of the girls give the scale confused looks. It isn’t the kind one would stand on and looks more like the device grocery stores use to weigh produce.

Angela can hear some of the boys on the other side of the room muttering excitedly. She turns towards them and tries to catch what they are saying.

“Dude, I’ve heard about this from one of the older students! This is going to be fucking awesome.”

“What’s going to be awesome? It’s just a big ole melon weigher.”

“Dude, you’re so fucking right. Just wait and see. Most of the ‘melons’ in this class are pretty damn big.”

She furrows her brow, not quite understanding the conversation. But she gets the sense that the two boys are talking about something crude and sexual.

Once the line is fully formed Ms. Anya continues. “I want you young ladies to come up one at a time,” she says, her voice suddenly eager. Mr. Walker looks eager as well. “As you come up you are to unzip the front of your uniforms and pull your breasts out.”

Many of the girls gasp at this, scandalized murmurs exploding all around Angela. The Glorias begin whispering all at once to her and Beth but Angela tries her best to ignore them. Her face is flushed red and she is suddenly self conscious about how small her breasts are. Almost every other girl has breasts at least twice as big as hers, most far larger than that.

QUIET!” Ms. Anya bellows, silencing all the whispers. “All of you will be doing this in front of the whole class, no exceptions. As I said, I understand that many of you will find this embarrassing and perhaps even humiliating. But you MUST learn to get comfortable with both your body and those of the other super powered individuals you will be spending the rest of your lives around.”

“There is also an educational aspect to this exercises,” Mr. Walker says, not sounding altogether convincing. “You all have been TOLD that women with active P-Genes have larger breasts, but I don’t think you’ll all really understand this without SEEING all of your classmate’s breasts fully bared. The school uniforms are tight and form fitting, but breasts are never really understood till they are seen naked. And one of the reasons that we will be weighing your breasts is to show you that your breasts aren’t just larger on average, but denser as well.”

He turns to the white board at the front of the class and pulls down a rolled up chart from above it. The revealed chart, once it is rolled all the way down, is a large list of average breast weight by cup size. “I want you all to read this chart, but keep in mind that the weight listed is for a single breast. So, for example, where it says three point three pounds for a G cup that means the average woman with that cup size would have breasts that together weigh around six point six pounds.”

Ms. Anya walks down the line of girls, stopping at one and pulling her out of line. “You’re breasts look to be about G cups, why don’t you start. Come, unzip your uniform and let’s weigh them.” The girl looks embarrassed. She unzips her costume slowly, her hands shaking, as she is walked to the front of the class.

As she opens her front and pulls her breasts out many of the boys, and some of the girls, make pleased sounds. “See,” Angela hears one of the boys whisper loudly, “I told you they aren’t allowed to wear bras under there.”

Like almost everyone in the class Angela is staring at the girl’s breasts. She looked well endowed in her uniform, but her breasts now look even larger that they are fully exposed. And so firm and perfectly shaped too! So firm that she might have assumed they were fake if she didn’t know the girl had an active P-Gene.

Nervously the girl is led to the scale. Ms. Anya eagerly bends the girl over the desk, reaching around and grabbing at her breasts to help her place them on the scales. “Now just relax,” she tells her, “Don’t press down on the scale; just let your breasts hang down naturally.”

There is no mistaking the clear joy the woman is having getting to touch the young woman’s breasts. She’s staring down at them resting on the scale in the same way that most of the boys in the room are.

The hungry, almost predatory glance on all of their faces makes Angela uncomfortable. Those looks also make her feel other things. Confusing things that warm her cheeks and make her feel moist between her legs. She shifts uncomfortably, slightly frightened by how arousing she finds the overtly sexual looks being pointed at the girl at the front of the class. Her heart races and she realizes that part of her is eager to have all of those eyes pointed at her.

“Nearly sixteen pounds,” Mr. Walker declares loudly with a proud smile. “See? Much more dense than the average woman.” He turns to the girl, signaling for her to stand up. “And this can be seen. See how firm and perfectly shaped her breasts are? See how round? One could easily mistake them for being fake,” he says, echoing Angela’s own thoughts.

Nodding to the girl he dismisses her. “You can take a seat now,” he says.

“Next in line,” Ms. Anya says, calling the girl at the front of the line up.

The next girl has even larger breasts. But unlike the first girl hers aren’t quite as firm. “Ah, yes, see here. The average woman with an active P-Gene will have almost inhumanly firm and roundly shaped breasts. But that is not a firm rule. This young lady’s breasts are much less firm. Doctors call this natural sagging of the breasts ‘ptosis’. In normal women ptosis becomes more pronounced with both the size and weight of a breast along with age.

“Most of you, however, will find your bodies mostly immune to normal aging. Your breasts will, for the most part, remain as they are now through the majority of your lives. When you’re in your sixties the sagging of your breasts will be about equivalent to that of a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. This is all part of the normal retardation of the aging process, but we will leave that for another class.”

He turns back to the girl standing with her massive breasts exposed beside him. “And notice her nipples? You are all going to see that there is no ‘normal’ for female nipples. This young lady has large nubs but fairly small areolas.” He turns, placing a finger on her nipple and gentle caressing it. “See how easily it responds to stimulation, growing hard and her areolas pebbling? It’s a response found in all women, but pronounced and quicker to happen in those of us with the active P-Genes. But now, on to the weighing!”

The girl bends over, her overlarge breasts barely able to fit on the scale. “Oh my,” Mr. Walker says, “truly impressive! Nearly twenty-five pounds! And so class, you see that firmness is not always an indication of density.”

One by one each of the girls comes forward, exposing their breasts to the class then weighing them. Through it all Mr. Walker makes comments on each girl, pointing out ways that each of their breasts are unique. And through it all Ms. Anya helps the girls gets their breasts on the scale, seeming to enjoy feeling them up far too much.

When Angela comes forward her face is already bright red. The world around her spins and seems to disappear. For a time all that exists is her and the scale that seems to loom large before her. She unzips her uniform, pulling her small breasts out and moving towards the scale.

“And here is a good example of how body size and shape is not always an indication of breast size,” she hears Mr. Walker telling the class. “From her curvy, almost plump build one would expect this young woman to have at least decently sized breasts. But as you can all see she has barely a handful here.”

“It’s okay,” Ms. Anya whispers into her ear as she bends Angela over and helps her get her small breasts on the scale. “Little can be just as attractive as big.” As she says this she grabs then caresses Angela’s breasts, making the young girl’s body flare with excitement. Her touch is so gentle, so practiced and skilled…

“Yes, as I expected, barely worth weighing,” Mr. Walker says, ushering Angela from the front of the class.

As she moves to take her seat, zipping her uniform up along the way, her mind is distant. Thoughts of Ms. Anya’s gentle, pleasing touches on her sensitive breasts fill her mind, making her remember the fantasies she’s had about the busty blond woman with the slight, sexy accent.

“Hello,” a voice whispers, “Earth to Angela.” She turns, realizing Beth is now sitting next to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says quickly. “I just… I think I’m going to need to ‘clear my mind’ as soon as class is over. It’s hard not to get worked up after all of this…”

“You and me both,” Beth says with a wicked grin. Angela smiles, but looks away. She’s not sure if she’ll ever get used to seeing such an eager and indecent expression on a face that looks so young and innocent. “Just a couple more girls left. Then it’s the boy’s turn. I wonder what they are going to have to do.”

They find out in just a few minutes as the last of the girls takes her seat. “Alright,” Ms. Anya says, turning to all of the boys standing up at the edge of the class, “Now it’s time for you.”

Mr. Walker steps to his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a large wooden ruler which he hands to Ms. Anya. “The boys are going to be coming up one at a time to get their dicks measured,” he informs the class. “To do this right we are going to need to do it while you are all fully erect. I suspect that after the weighing of the girl’s breasts that won’t be a problem. I have no doubt that every one of you is now hard. And because of your active P-Gene I think you will find it nearly impossible to get rid of your erections until you’ve gotten off, so I have no worries that the erections will be not be lost before it’s your turn to be measured.”

“Of course,” Ms. Anya says with a glint in her eyes, “if that does become a problem I’m more than happy to help you along.” She then gets down on her knees at the front of the class, holding the ruler up. “I’m ready when you are, Mr. Walker.”

“Good,” he says, then turning first to the boys then to the girls all sitting at their desks. “Before we start a simple statistic: the average male penis measures between four and a half inches to a little over five inches when erect. But I stress that this is AVERAGE size for a normal human male. For most of the population is smaller or longer than this, a fairly small percentage is actually ‘average’.”

He stops, grinning at the men standing nervously in line. “But you, my eager first years, are NOT an average sampling of the human population. Due to your active P-Genes we are going to see that every one of you at least meats the normal male average and that many of you now find yourselves ‘superhumanly’ well endowed.”

Again he stops, now turning to the girls. “Now, you may have noticed that I said every one of these boys will at least be average in size. Women’s breasts size amongst you was on average far larger than normal women, but some of you still had small or flat chests. This is NOT how it works with men. None of them will have below average sized penises as you will soon find out.”

And then the measuring began. Ms. Anya seems almost as eager as she did with the girls, a wide grin on her face as each boy steps up and unzips the bottom of their uniform and pulls their erect penises out for her to measure. She then lovingly grabs hold of each one, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling the erect cock down so it stands horizontal. She then uses the large ruler to measure the boy’s cock, measuring from the top base of their shaft and calling the length out before sending him on his way to his seat.

“Seven and a half inches.”

“Five and two thirds.”

“Oh my, an impressive one, nearly nine inches!”

“Six and a third, but quite girthy.”

“Almost near perfect eight inches”

“My… over eleven inches! Surprised this one even fits in your uniform.”

And on and on she goes.

Angela watches it all, her face burning red. She did not expect just how horny seeing so many cocks would make her. Her cunt is so damp and musty that she can smell her own arousal as she sits in her seat. She is so worked up that she is certain if one of the boys was to walk up to her with his hard cock and tell her to suck she’d go right ahead and start.

This is exactly what the teachers have all been telling us about, she thinks. That our bodies are all like this, that enough sexual stimulation will leave us mindless sluts willing to do anything to get off.

The sexual pressure is nearly unbearable. Her slit aches for attention. She has to struggle not to slip her hand down under her desk and start playing with herself through her uniform. Looking around the room it seems that a few of the girls are doing just that, although as soon as anyone notices them they all seem to put their hands back on their desk where all can see them.

As soon as the last boy is done being measured the two teachers stand before the class, all now sitting at their desks, and looking out at their young students. The teacher’s uniforms are just as tight and form fitting as the students, and its clear that both of them are as aroused as the students. The outline of his large cock, thick and hard and erect, can be soon in Mr. Walker’s uniform. Beside him Ms. Smiths nipples can be seen hard through her tight uniform and a clear damp patch can be seen in the crotch.

“I’m sure after all of that most of you are eager to take a break,” Mr. Walker says. “I suspect most of you are wanting to dash back to the privacy of your dorm room or even the much closer refuge of a nearby bathroom stall so you can masturbate and clear your mind.”

There are quiet murmurs of agreement from the class.

“Well, I’m sorry to say that you will not be allowed to do this.”

The murmurs become groans of pain and discomfort along with a few shouts of “But that’s not fair!”

Patiently Mr. Walker holds a hand up for quiet. “But don’t worry,” he says reassuringly, “you will be allowed release. Just not yet! You all are going to need to control these strong urges of yours, which is something we are going to start working on today.”

As he talks Ms. Anya pulls two boxes out from behind her desk. One is smaller and she gives it to a boy in the front row. The other larger one she gives to a girl sitting near him.

“Please, take what you need and pass it along,” Mr. Walker says. “Boys, you will find bottles of lube in here. Girls, you will find a number of toys to help you along. Take whatever you are most comfortable with.” As he continues he begins unzipping his uniform, Ms. Anya beside him doing the same. “What is going to happen next is that Ms. Anya and I, who are just as worked up as all of you, are going to clear our minds while you all watch. I want you all to start masturbating to the sight, but as you do so I want you to work on making it last as long as you can.”

Ms. Anya steps up as she begins to wiggle out of her tight uniform, her overlarge breasts hanging heavy down her front. “This is called ‘edging’ and it’s something you need to all practice. It is essential that you each learn how to lessen the pressure of sexual desire without going all the way to orgasmic release. This is something that will help you in both your private and professional lives. For the girls this will be essential as most of you will lose some of your powers when you cum.”

“And although not as important for the boys,” Mr. Walker adds as he pulls the last of his uniform off, “it’s still important. Most of the boy’s powers will be unaffected by sexual release, but cumming will slow your reflexes and your mind. You must all practice how to lessen the edge of desire while clearing your mind without cumming.”

When the box gets to Angela she chooses a simple, small pink vibrator. Looking around her she can see that most of the students in front of her have already began masturbating, even as the two teachers just begin to embrace and kiss at the front of the room.

Most of the boys are leaning back in their chairs, legs spread and arms slowly moving up and down as they work their cocks. There is also a low hum of multiple vibrators set to their lowest settings. Some of the girls have their legs spread, the bottom of their uniforms zipped open as they use toys on themselves. Other girls seem happy using a vibrator through their clothes.

This is what Angela does as she’s afraid that even on the lowest setting if she used the toy directly on her skin she’d cum right away. Even with the fabric of her uniform dulling the gentle, pleasing vibrations she already feels her body rocketing towards orgasm.

At the front of the class Ms. Anya has crawled up onto her desk and is on all fours on top of it. Her ass is raised up in the air behind her, her massive heavy breasts hanging down over the front of the desk. Behind her Mr. Walker is busy rubbing his cock on her pussy, making the busty woman moan with desire before slowly entering her.

“The trick,” he says, moaning slightly himself before continuing, “is to go slow. Boys, move your hands slowly up and down your shafts. Girls, be gentle with your pussies. Try and work on keeping your breathing slow. Pay attention to your heart rate, notice its speed and try and keep it down. Fight the biological urge to pick up speed, to push towards that cresting high of release that your body wants.”

A few voices moan as he speaks, clearly having already lost their battle not to cum. “Don’t worry,” Mr. Walker says. “Girls, if you cum keep going. Try to see if you can keep masturbating without cumming again. Boys, if you get off there are tissues over there. If your still hard I ask that you continue masturbating after getting off, if you’re not you may excuse yourselves from class and wash up. All of you are to go as long as you can, but once you feel you are finished you are done with class for the day. Your homework for the week is to practice edging in the privacy of your dorm rooms each and every night.”

As he talks to the class he continues to fuck Ms. Anya, holding onto her plump ass and moving slowly in and out of her. For her part she simply moans in pleasure, her eyes closed and a serene look on her face.

Over the next hour one by one the students in the class all lose control and cum. Most of the boys leave after the first time, but a few stay for a second orgasm. The two teachers change positions every few minutes, but no matter who they fuck they do it slow and sensually. Neither of them in a rush and both enjoying the company of the other. And the whole time they position themselves so the shrinking class before them can see.

Angela gets lost in the task. The students around her seem to disappear and all she is aware of is the two fucking figures before her and the soft pulsing pleasure of the vibrator up against her hungry pussy. Her impulse is to open her uniform and plunge the vibrator into her cunt, wanting to turn the vibrations to full intensity knowing it would make her cum right away. But she denies the urge, keeping the end of the vibrator outside her uniform and only slightly pressed against her clitoral hood.

Her eyes are transfixed on Ms. Anya. There is something about the woman that is so alluring and safe. Her large, full, heavy, soft breasts seem motherly and comforting. As she watches Mr. Walker fuck her she starts imagining that SHE is him, that it’s her fucking the female teacher. At other times she imagines herself up there with the three of them or just Ms. Anya. She pictures herself smothered in the woman’s large breasts, not really sure what she would do with them but just wanting to be close to them.

When she does finally cum it ends up only being a small orgasm, but it’s one that stretches out over a long time and leaves her mind and body feeling relaxed and at ease. With a deep breath she sits up, looking around to find that she’s the last student in the class. Even Beth and the Glorias are gone.

Noticing that she’s finished Mr. Walker starts fucking Ms. Anya harder, a few brief moments latter grunting and cumming deep inside of her. With a loud sigh of relief Mr. Walker pulls out of her and says, “Class dismissed.”

 

* * *

 

“Wait just a moment,” Ms. Anya calls to Angela as she tries to slip out of class. “Please, stay behind for a few minutes. Mr. Walker will be gone once he’s cleaned up and I want to talk to you in private.”

Not sure what this is about, Angela waits around awkwardly as the male teacher uses a tissue to clean his cock off before zipping his uniform back up. Ms. Anya gets off her desk, sliding into the chair behind it but not zipping her own uniform back up.

As Mr. Walker leaves the class room he gives Angela an odd look. “Good luck, my dear. And remember, we are here to help you.”

Angela turns to Ms. Anya as the door closes behind the leaving teacher. “What’s this all about?”

“I heard about the little incident you had with Ms. Smith,” she says, getting right to the point. “And what happened in your sparing class to the Synthoman.”

“Oh,” Angela says, struggling to keep eye contact. Ms. Anya’s massive breasts are still hanging free. They are so large… So big that they constantly draw Angela’s eyes towards them, as if they have their own pull of visual gravity. Not just large, but soft and full and oh so wide. Her areolas are large, something she’d never seen before today, and the sight is somehow strange yet enticing all at once.

“I remember what you said about being able to help me with my powers,” she says. “Mike… uh, Mr. Guerrero has already helped me out a bit.”

“Yes, I know,” she says. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about today. The offer still stands, of course, but I suspect you will want to explore your powers on your own a little more before coming to me for help. No, I had a different offer to make you. See, I have a power that few in the school other than the staff know about.” She pauses, patting the desk before her. “Please, come sit here.”

Confused, and still finding it odd that she has left her breasts hanging out, Angela moves towards the desk. “Just get up on your desk?”

“Yes, please,” she says. “Now, as I was saying, I have a power I keep form most of the students.” She stands, grabbing one of her breasts with two hands and lifting it up level with Angela’s face. She gives it a long squeeze, starting at the base of her tit and moving her hands down towards the tip of her breasts. As she does a white bead of moisture begins to grow on the tip of her plump nipple. “See, when I want I can lactate,” she says.

Angela’s eyes grow wide as she watches the bead of creamy white fluid grow and then turn into a trickle of milk that starts to run down her breast. “I don’t—” Angela starts to say, but Ms. Anya cuts her off.

“And my milk, when drunk by someone with an active P-Gene, retards the drinker’s powers. If you drink my milk regularly you can dull your powers, making it so they are less potent and much less volatile. This will give you time to get a better feel of what you can do and how to control it and hopefully avoid any more incidents like you had with Ms. Smith.”

Blinking dumbly Angela looks up from Ms. Smith’s milk leaking tit to the woman’s face. “You want me to… To…”

“To drink my milk, yes,” she says with a kind smile. “The rest of the staff thinks it will be for the best. Please, you’ll find it quite tasty.”

She takes a step forward, thrusting her upheld breast into the young girls face. Angela makes a small sound of protest, trying to pull away in shock. But Ms. Anya grabs the back of her head with one hand and Angela finds her grip superhumanly strong. Unable to pull away she soon has the wet nipple forced into her mouth.

As soon as the milk touches her tongue she stops struggling to pull away. Her taste buds explode, the taste of the milk becoming all she can think of. It’s a heady, bitter yet sweet taste like nothing she’s ever tasted before. Before she knows it Angela is leaning forward, pressing her face into the woman’s overlarge, soft breast and sucking like a hungry child. Ms. Anya’s breast is larger than Angela’s head, her face sinking into it. She has to tilt her head back so that her nose is lifted up and out of her soft breast flesh so that she’s able to breathe.

At first the flow of milk is sparse, but as she continues to suck the stream of fluid grows larger, at one point flowing freely. Soon she’s drinking down mouthfuls of the liquid in loud hungry gulps. The taste is just so amazing, like pure sex and candy all in one.

Ms. Anya is moaning in pleasure, one hand massaging the tit she holds up to Angela’s face and the other running through the girl’s red hair. Slowly she starts to pull back. Angela follows her, sliding off the edge of the table and standing leaning over. She reaches up and grabs the tit, holding it up to her face with both hands.

“Good,” Ms. Anya coos, “drink up. Here, trying switching breasts.”

Angela does so, her head spinning. Her body feels so hot all of a sudden. As she starts sucking at the second breast she unzips her uniform, sliding out of it all while sucking the teacher’s tit. Being naked just feels right, as if the milk she’s drinking has made clothes meaningless and pointless.

“Don’t slow down,” Ms. Anya whispers. Her hands are now free and she starts using them to explore the young girl’s body. Caressing her back, her breasts, her thighs. She reaches down and opens her legs, sliding a finger into Angela’s cunt and finding it still moist from her earlier edging session.

“Mmmmm, such a lovely little pussy,” she says, leaning in and sliding her fingers in deeper. “Nice and young and tight.”

Angela hears the words, but they barely register in her mind. She feels intoxicated from the milk. The world spins around her and all she wants is more. She can feel her powers dulling, finds the indescribable connection with the place she draws her magical abilities from lessoning. But there is something more, something she doesn’t quite understand. It’s a freeing of something, like a weight she never knew existed being lifted from her body.

“Yes, keep drinking,” Ms. Anya says, continuing to finger Angela as she starts to finger herself. “God I love this, making hot young naive girls drink my milk while I play with their innocent little bodies. Love touching your unspoiled breasts and pussies, love getting to use these bodies before they become wasted by others. And you’re so powerful… you don’t realize that the power to resist me is easily in you.”

The words echo through Angela’s head as if coming from far away. All that matters is Ms. Anya’s milk, she needs to drink more of it, as much as she can. And doing so continues to lift the weight from her mind, making her feel calm and at ease. She doesn’t care that the woman is fingering her without permission. Her mind continues to empty, something new filling the weight of independent thought being lifted from her.

“Feel it going away,” Ms. Anya says. “Feel your free will dispersing? Keep drinking… every drop will dull your powers, yes, but only for a short while. My milk’s real power is that it can control the minds of women. The more you drink the more your mine. I can tell you’re already too far gone to really understand, already on your way to being totally under my control. A few sessions like this and your mind will be all mine…”

 

Choose up to 4 options from this poll:


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: