A Sissy in the 22nd Century Pt. 04

Mr Silvertongue had insisted that the mouths of born-to-be sluts like them would naturally fill with saliva whenever they could even smell a cock approaching. A Pavlovian confirmation of everything they knew to be true about their worth and truest purpose. Jesse couldn't help but begin to believe it, as his eyes began to water too... All he wanted in that moment was for Suzy to be pushed a little further down his oesophagus. To be choked another inch along the cascade of emotions that were building up inside of him. It was a terrible thing: to realise you were so enjoying the lurid, echoing slam of a friend's debasement. That, set against all those swirling doubts and worries, this was a release of pressures built up.

The silver-haired visitor groaned somewhere above, the rhythm of his thrusting hips staggering into a last few, trembling heaves. An instant later, Jesse felt a convulsing throb from Suzy. He knew instinctively that one thing had led to the other. That, by extensive training or delight in servitude... the other sissy would orgasm whenever his master did. An empathetic reaction to succeeding in one's duty.

The panting, blonde schoolslut collapsed forward onto his desk. While Jesse desperately coughed his cock back up, so as to catch the precious expulsions he required. He sucked at the deflating sausage like a calf at a teat, worried that he might already have lost half of what he needed... Another load selfishly swallowed instead of shared with his classmates. Suzy seemed to have plenty to give however, spurting string after string onto his dear friend's tongue. It would seem the act of being fucked by his darling Daddy, while being sucked off by the prettiest femboy in class, in front of a room full of subtly jealous eyes... Was a combination to drain the poor thing dry. He burbled incoherently against the hardwood surface. While one end calmly extracted his penis and brought it to the next student to clean; and the other made sure to squeeze every last drop possible out from below.

Meanwhile, all around... the lesson simply continued unabated. Mr Durren droning on through just another day of training these nubile, young things of all the politest ways they could offer themselves up as tribute. Everything proceeding exactly as it should, in Madame Stanfield's Academy for Sluts of Great Pedigree.

Chapter 6: Raw Questions, Sore Thoughts

Jesse arrived at the table with a slightly-stinging rump. The red welts where Mr Durren had laid his ruler still visible for all and sundry. The man had clearly had a lot of practice over the years though, the punished sissy felt sure that those strikes could have been made to hurt a lot more and show a little less if the ageing teacher had truly wanted. As it was, the teen was already beginning to become a little used to perching delicately on a raw and naked rear while eating his lunch. A skill he was fairly sure was only going to become more useful as his studies went on.

The others were clearly in the middle of catching Suzy up on some of the lesson he had clearly missed out on, while otherwise distracted or half-comatose in aftermath.

"He said our collars have brought it to their attention that we're still not greeting everyone we meet properly. Y'know the whole 'Hello Sir/Madam, may I service you?' thing... So now every time we don't say it when we meet someone, we will get deducted an overall mark in his class."

Lizzy explained, half-guiltily... as if it was her that was enforcing such draconian rules.

"That could add up to a girl failing real fast..." Fran summarised. "They don't even tell us what our final marks are out of... or based on... It's gotta be deliberate. Guess we've just gotta be the best little sluts we can at all times."

Jesse blanched, thinking of all the times he'd failed to give out the demanded greeting since his one encounter with Madame Stanfield herself. The sissy supposed he had just been trying to avoid the embarrassment of accepting what he now was. Which was probably exactly what the rule was determined to break down. Once it became habitual for them to simply offer themselves up to whoever they met, there was little room for pride. They were all whores in service to the school, on the way to becoming something even less free: The perfect slaves to other people's darkest fantasies. Perhaps it would be better if he accepted that sooner, rather than later.

Yet, talking with his friends seemed to lighten the weight of it so quickly. They were all mirrored souls, struggling through together. Relaying the various misadventures each had had the night before. Suzy had spent all evening begging his Daddy for some great favour. Franceska'd had to explain to her delinquent Home-mates how a shared subscription upon her usage might work. Lizzy had apparently been so anxiously self-doubting as to whether anyone would actually pay for her that she'd taken a note from Silvertongue's book and stood naked in the middle of an intersection. The sort of strangely straightforward thinking that was becoming a trademark of the quiet teen. She'd ended up being pulled into the back of a van by several network maintenance workers and then dumped back where they found her several hours later. According to her they'd actually been 'very nice' and just got her to pleasure them while they chased down the various frayed wires and broken connections that the Algorithm's own automated repair systems couldn't solve.

Apparently she'd actually quite enjoyed being jostled around with the toolboxes and coarse men in the back of their van. Screwing away their weekly bonuses and then clambering with them into the bowels of the city. It would seem they'd never caught anything close to a '1st Class' rated plaything, and marvelled at how Lizzy had not complained at all as her naked body became streaked with the grease and muck that they and their underbelly world were perpetually coated in. While the human sextoy herself had been amazed to learn that they actually knew very little at all about how the complex system's that ran everything worked. They just went where their work tabs told them and fixed whatever the gathered robo-drones were struggling with. The Grand Algorithm's processes were as alien to them as anyone.

Compared to all that, Jesse suddenly felt a little ashamed to have any complaints about his own experiences of being wined and dined in the lap of luxury. But it opened up just another layer in his head of how much of the world was being kept out of sight and mind for most people. He had caught a glimpse of the glittering lives above... and found souls just as trapped by who they were born to be. Lizzy had crawled through the cracks below... and found there were secrets buried even there. The sissy was beginning to wonder if anyone knew who was actually in control of all this. Or if any human mind could even comprehend the complexities of what their society had become. What if the Algorithm had just been set running long ago... and had now stepped far beyond its remit. Would they even know? The thought sent shivers down his spine.

Chapter 7: A Mystery of Reservation

Jesse tried to tell the story of his time with John and Miranda, with the crushing fear and distaste he'd felt for that place as he'd scurried home still raw in his heart. But... he kept getting sidetracked by his own descriptions of how beautiful and miraculous it had all been. That wide-eyed, excited and naive young lady he had played the part of... seeming to bubble up and jump onto his tongue without any of his say so. It was extremely frustrating: to want to put together an overbearing feeling of unease, when all you could actually offer were descriptions of happy people smiling in the sunshine. Beautiful sights and sounds and tastes. It made him feel fake. Plastic. Complaining about things he should instead be grateful for.

The others tried to sympathise and understand, of course. But he could see in their eyes that same glazed look that Betsy got when she was explaining again how much better off they all were in this modern world. The simple inability to comprehend what nagged at him so about just how things were. Everyone was in their right place. Sweet dreams were made of this, who were they to disagree? Some people wanted to abuse you, some of them wanted to be abused. It was all as natural as the turn of the seasons... helped along gently by the same AI that also happened to monitor and maintain those as well. Humanity had been saved from all the crushing, apocalyptic ultimatums it had placed on itself by simply accepting all the dark and dirty little honesties of what they each really wanted. Instead of consuming everything else, they now just consumed each other.

Jesse knew the narrative as well as any of them... so why did he just never seem to have the same sense of contentment and security in that? Was he some kind of freak? A soul so unsure about what he wanted that even the grand algorithm couldn't help?! It was those thoughts that really ate away at him. Somewhere inside... he just desperately wanted to be as self-assured by his lot in life as Suzy was. The taste of that other sissy's ejaculate, as he had cum just because his Daddy had, still lingered on Jesse's tongue.

What took hold of his friends more, however, was the mystery behind who had reserved a future claim on him.

"I still can't quite believe you're a virgin back there..." Was Fran's first statement. "If I had a cock and had been watching that perfect, little ass of yours bob past my room everyday. I would definitely have had to pin you against a wall at some point... No choice at all!"

She meant it as a joke... but Jesse could see a flash of something Whitney in the taller girl's eyes. Suddenly he was sort of glad she hadn't grown such an appendage. They bounced about a myriad of suggestions who his hidden future deflowerer could be on the way to class... but none could really offer any solid idea. In fact Suzy barely seemed interested at all, besides strongly refuting any possibility that it could be his father. So the mystery remained unsolved, as they approached yet another new lesson in applied sluttiness.

Chapter 8: Lessons of the Past

Their teacher for 'interslut relations' was another new face. A young woman who looked barely a few years older than themselves, yet whose round and swollen belly told of a new life sprouting forth in fairly short order. 'Miss Daisy', who admitted to still being weirded out when people addressed her by just her last name, got the elephant out of the room quickly.

"Yes, if you want to come feel it kick... Go right ahead."

Home kids, as a general rule, didn't get much interaction with expecting mothers or mothers at all, really. Unless they happened to share a block with some breeders-in-training. There was an unwritten undercurrent of absence wherein none of them could really remember their own parent's touch. Whisked away as they were into the grand system of shared matrons and the Algorithm's guiding hand, while she presumably went straight back to the task of earning their next sibling. So the collection of short-skirted human sextoys gathered around this small miracle in abject fascination. Resting their heads upon the teacher's round belly and listening for the faint heartbeat of another small soul, fated to join their ranks.

"His or her father is one of your seniors." She revealed, encouragingly. "Every year, on a special day, the graduating class all gets a chance to plant their seed in me... provided they've got the right equipment of course." She smiled and chuckled warmly at her own humour... and the intrigued surprise on the faces of her new charges. None of whom had ever really considered 'fatherhood' as being found anywhere in their futures, for various reasons. Well, besides Jesse, if Betsy's plan had worked.

The young educator went on to explain. "Not too long ago, I was just another student here, like all of you. I had a sponsor who had put me forward to be a surprise 18th birthday present for his son, as soon as I graduated. I was doing my best to learn how I could be the perfect slutwife for him. Went to sleep everyday dreaming of how I would one day jump out of a birthday cake and see the joy and excitement on my new master's face. I imagined a thousand different ways he might look and a million different ways he might treat me, as his own personal toy for life. I was ready for any of it: cruelty, perversion, domination or devotion... Any fetish he might have or want to try on me. I was determined to earn my place by his side... or at his feet."

There was a flicker in Miss Daisy's eyes, even then. Which spoke to all the submissive listeners of her sense of duty and purpose in that life which clearly never came to pass. Each of them, even those that still held lingering doubts and hopes for a freer life... knew the lure of simplicity in servitude that she must have held onto for so long. Amongst all of life's complications, the idea that your only true aim was to make one person happy... was an attractive one, whatever the expense to yourself. Which made the next part of her story hit home hard against their hearts.

"Only... it turned out I had a rare genetic complication that even the Algorithm hadn't been able to detect. A small mutation that it had never encountered before, which just happened to make all its normal contraceptive measures unreliable. Halfway through my second year... I started getting morning sickness. Then my belly started to swell. By the time the teachers realised what was happening, it was too late. My body had slipped out of range of what the customer wanted and the more invasive methods of contraception that could still have been used were 'besides the point' according to him. He had paid for perfect... and I was not. He was offered one of my classmates instead... I watched her be dragged off by him the following year."

She couldn't hide the sadness in her voice as she relayed all this. The past traumas clearly still raw, whatever had come next. Yet, their newest educator kept going... as if knowing that they all felt what she had felt, and believing that that was an important part of her lesson to them.

Chapter 9: Bought by Friends

"Of course, Madame Stanfield knew there would still be some value in me... Some rich folks have such a fetish for impregnating people that they want a breeder they can keep at home instead of going down to the pits all the time. But, those sorts of cumbuckets generally don't need anywhere near as much training as we get. All they really need is to grow a big, round belly to bounce around every half a year for their master's delight. So it was looking like I would be sold off as soon as possible, so as not to waste any more of the school's time and resources."

The teacher spoke about all this so calmly. Referring to herself as some sort of defective product that fell off the factory line, despite everything that had happened to her having come from a failure of the ever-vaunted Algorithm. To Jesse it seemed another jarringly clear example that, even when something went wrong... Everyone seemed to just ignore it and pass the blame along. As if it was far more important to continue believing the system was perfect, even if that meant the sacrifice of a few souls caught up in its imperfections. Miss Daisy was getting to the crux of her tale though, and what she saw needed to be taken from it.

"Which is when and why my classmates stepped up to save me. They petitioned the headmistress to let them work to earn the shortfall in my worth as a plaything. They all went out, night after night. Getting themselves gangbanged and group-purchased. Organising charity orgies and sponsored cum-drinking challenges. Doing everything they could to earn the school enough money to keep me as a student. Their efforts and pornographic images were scooped up and posted in the national media. Politicians and local businesses came to take promotional pictures with us sat on their laps and servicing them. It was an endless, tiring effort to sell our bodies as much as we possibly could, over and over again. For the whole rest of that year."

The woman smiled at those memories... Of those who had rallied round her and given everything they had to keep her with them. All collapsing together in the grey light of dawn, having spent entire nights screwing every stranger they could find... Only to have to wake up and drag themselves to lessons a few scant hours later, because Madame Stanfield would not accept a drop in their grades over such an effort. It had been exhausting, and stressful, and often sore... but it had drawn them all together in a way she had never felt before. Even now, when they had all disappeared off into the world to be toys for the rich and powerful, she could remember every face which had come to her rescue. She might never see most of them again... but she would never forget the debt she owed each one.

"But it still wasn't enough..." She sighed, remembering the crestfallen moment they had realised just how short they were going to fall from their target. "Our contracts are ones for life, after all... When buying or selling us, our masters usually trade in the value of all the years of service we likely have left. Like a mortgage on a building, if you've ever heard of such a thing. So what even 1st class sluts like us could earn in half a year... Barely came close to a downgrade in my overall value. I could have served that original master for a hundred years or more, after all. Or forever... If the Algorithm's medical science keeps progressing as it has. Every single medical breakthrough makes our predicted worth go up a little more. So we thought all of it might have been wasted..."

The young teacher turned to look at something now, drawing the view of a now-enthralled class to something none of them had noticed before. Unlike any of the other classrooms, this one had one of those ever-changing electronic photo frames that lined the hallways: Hung in pride of place above them. Only it was not the alluring eyes of a former student that gazed down upon them, but the intimidating gaze of the school's namesake herself. Her glinting eyes as piercing as ever and heeled boot seeming to press down out of the frame and onto their collected chests. Yet, Miss Daisy looked up at the terrifying figure as if it was a holy saint, granting her strength in times of need. Just like with Silvertongue, it was clear there was more than mere professional admiration that this educator had for her employer. With a slightly quivering voice she said.

"Which is when the Madame herself stepped in. She said we had beaten every record for a class's earnings, since the school was built. So such efforts needed to be rewarded... She purchased my contract herself, and said part of my duties would be to work here... Teaching all of you about the amazing things that can happen if you all stick together and look out for each other."

Chapter 10: As Sluts United

"So that's why I'm here... to get you all to see how important it is to support each other, as submissives, in serving our masters. There used to be an awful amount of competitiveness in this school; where even the sweetest, little playthings would jealously fight tooth and nail to out-do their classmates. The previous Madame Stanfields even encouraged it, thinking it made us work harder. But our headmistress realised it was distracting us from our only real purpose: to make our owners happy. When you get out into the real world, as 1st class slutwives, you should be setting an example to all the other whores and servants. Working with them to please those we should be pleasing, not looking down on them or squabbling over who gets fucked first."