Free U: Pt. 01: Alice's Assignment

*****This story takes place in a free-use world, where women's use by men--all men--is normal, consensual, and widely accepted. All characters are over 18.****

"Honey, breakfast! I won't tell you again," I could hear my mother calling upstairs. I looked at the clock--already fifteen minutes late for my first day of Free U. Shit. I tied my hair up into a ponytail and examined myself in the mirror. My dad had helped me pick out my outfit last night: a cropped white t-shirt, pink athletic shorts rolled twice, and new, white tennis shoes with striped ankle socks. My shirt barely contained the huge breasts that had sprouted up over the summer--now, anything I wore was a potential wardrobe malfunction, especially considering the no-bras-in-the-house rules dad had put in place.

I knew college was going to be different, but I had felt ready all summer--ready to meet new people, learn new things, and, most of all, find out which sports team I would be servicing.

Some girls--the cream of the crop--got to be the designated come dump for various clubs and sports programs at the college, for use in whatever way the team decided on. The girls were really for morale more than anything else, a way for the boys to let off steam before big games or when they got bored on the bus to events in the state over.

Dad had told me this outfit made me look athletic, and that maybe I'd have a chance to go to the football club, the most coveted position for a girl at my school.

I couldn't help but smile at the thought of getting to service our football team: getting used in the locker room at halftime, being bent over on the sidelines during practice..."Alice!" my mother yelled.

"Fuck, mom, I'm coming!" I said, gathering my jacket and a few notebooks into my backpack.

"Language!" dad said as I walked into the kitchen.

"Sorry," I mumbled, leaning over the kitchen island to scarf down the pastry mom had set out for me.

Dad sighed, a smile creeping over his face. "Come 'ere, sweetie," he said. "You popped out of your shirt."

I looked down to see that a soft, milky-white boob had fallen out of the bottom of my shirt, leaving my puffy pink nipple exposed. Dad pulled my shirt down over it, tucking my massive breast back under the thin fabric. He stood back to adjust my shirt, running his fingers over the nipples that poked through.

Dad then came up behind me, running his hand over my ass, which was hanging out of my shorts.

"Didn't I do a good job with the first-day-of-school outfit, Marge?"

My mom looked up briefly from the stack of dishes in the sink. "Yes you did, honey."

"You look great, sweetie," he said. "Really beautiful."

Dad continued to run his hands up and down my body, inspecting me with his fingers from head to toe. I felt his hands spread my legs apart and pull my shorts to the side as he stuck an index finger inside of me, to test how wet I was. As a designated team girl, I would have to be wet at any given time, ready to be used at the drop of a hat. I had been training for this.

"Good girl," he said, pressing deep inside me with his thick finger. "She's wet as ever, Marge!" he said to mom, across the room.

"That's great, hun," mom said.

I could hear dad's breathing deepen as he pressed the hard tip of his dick up against the fabric of my shorts.

"Oh my god, dad, I'm already going to be late," I tried to say, but he rolled my shorts down anyways. I looked to mom. "Mom, I'm going to be late on my first day!"

She sighed and shook her head. "Well, Alice, I don't know what to tell you. You should have been ready earlier. You know the rules."

I picked at my pastry and rolled my eyes while dad worked the full length of his dick inside of me and began pumping.

"Are you excited for your first day?" he asked, his massive balls slapping against my thighs.

"Yeah," I said, barely able to contain my excitement and forgetting how late I was going to be. "I just really want to go to the football team."

Dad reached up my shirt to squeeze my soft breasts, which were gently swinging back and forth as he fucked me. "Oh, I know my girl will excel wherever she goes."

I smiled. He really did always know how to calm my nerves.

"Won't she, Marge?"

Mom walked over to the island and took a sip of her coffee, watching dad pound my pussy.

"It'll be great, Alice. I know it." I hoped they were right.

As he pumped away between my legs, mom gathered her things into her purse. "Jack, when you're finished with her, will you make sure she gets out the door?"

"Yeah, won't be long," he replied. "Just need to fill up my little girl before she's off to her big day." With that, dad let his load shoot deep inside me, pulled out, and pulled up my shorts. "Off you go, kiddo."

I could feel his come slipping around inside my panties, making everything wet and sticky; I took a deep breath and tried to tell myself it was just a normal day.

***

The process for new girls getting their assignments was a long one. Before the school year started, girls had to send in their pictures, along with their measurements, their interests, and their hobbies. The school wanted assignments to stick, and before the audition process was put into place, girls would often get assigned teams whose respective sports they hardly cared about. Girls were there to support morale for the teams, to be a release valve for the boys before their big competitions or just after a long day at school--it helped if the girls were at least a little interested in the sports they would spend a season watching.

I had sent in a collection of photographs that mom helped me take over the summer: swimming naked in our family pool, playing topless in the sand, and even a couple of me smiling brightly with a cock in my mouth. I wanted them to know that I was experienced, that I had spent the summer servicing all of dad's friends during barbeques and late-night poker games, and I was ready to take on any challenge. I wanted them to see I was motivated, willing, and enthusiastic about taking as many dicks as possible. I just hoped it had been enough.

As I walked into school that morning, I passed by an open classroom, where I could see one of the more senior girls was already getting used by a group of boys. They had her bent over a desk, forming a semi-circle around her, taking turns fucking her mouth and her pussy. In between gasps, I could hear her shout, "Don't mess my makeup up, Sean. I spent a long time doing it this mo--" before Sean promptly shoved his dick back in her mouth and began thrusting himself into her throat. I could see that on the desk beneath her was an open book, "Being a Good Cum Slut: A How-To," which she read passively, when her mouth wasn't being used. A string of drool coming from her mouth leaked down onto the page.

I couldn't help but stop and stare: I wasn't used to sharing a school with boys. Before college, all schools are segregated, to avoid practical problems. Girls get the basic education they need without distraction--a lot easier to remember the quadratic formula when you're not getting railed while learning it--and female teachers don't get relentlessly humped by their overly-horny boys.

But college was the time for us to learn how to be of use to all men in society, although informal training often started at home after girls' eighteenth birthdays, as mine had.

I wonder when I'm going to get used like that, I thought, watching this girl take cock after cock, all smiles. I had to pull myself away from the doorway where I stood; I didn't want to be late to the last part of the assessment process.

Already girls had gathered in the auditorium, standing around in anxious, giggling groups. At the front of the room sat the senior captains of all the sports teams. A middle-aged woman clapped her hands, attempting to get out attention.

"Welcome, girls," she said. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest. "I'm Ms. B. We're so happy to have you at Free U. I know it's been a long summer of waiting, but the wait is finally over." She smiled.

I scanned the twenty or so team captains at the front of the room. I could see more than a few rising bulges in their pants; some even grasped at their boners absentmindedly, clearly admiring the effort we put into our outfits. I smoothed my hair down and made sure my shorts were pulled up high, showing off the puffy lips of my pussy through the tight fabric. I could feel multiple sets of eyes on me, and I wanted to put on a good show.

"Today we'll begin the final assessment process for team girls, and we'll hopefully have your placements by the end of next week. As I'm sure you're well aware, we'll be assigning you to a team captain based on your essay prompts submitted with your applications. They'll have you for a full twenty-four hours, during which you'll free use to them, and their teammates. You'll spend a night at their house, so that their families can use you as well, and make a thorough assessment of your abilities."

An excited murmur ripped through the girls.

"At the end of this trial period, team captains will decide whether it's a good fit."

I ran a finger up and down my pussy lips, which had escaped the fabric of my shorts; I was getting so wet imagining a whole 24 hours of getting used, and with a new family too. I closed my eyes and said a little prayer that the captain I got put with would have brothers.

One by one, Ms. B called girls up to the front of the room, running her index finger down a thin sheet of paper tacked to a clipboard. And one by one, girls left with their team captains. Some had themed shirts or hats to give their girls--a sign of high hopes that the girl would be a good fit--and some rushed off with their girls in tow, presumably to find a corner of the halls where they could empty their load into their new prize.

"And now for the football team, captained by James Holloway."

My spine stiffened.

"James? Where is James?"

A wall of a man stood up, straightened out his shirt and sighed, looking bored. For the popular boys, team girls held less appeal--girls offered themselves to James everywhere he went, and the novelty of having a 24-hour fuck doll to fill with come wasn't as thrilling as it was for, say, the shy captains of the bowling league. I half expected to hear my name as Ms. B opened her mouth; I hadn't realized how much I was relying on the position until now. So when another name--Sarah something--came out of Ms. B's mouth, I was floored.

How could this happen? I thought. I was a perfect fit: athletic, outgoing, well-trained. I had answered all the questions correctly, I thought. "I love getting dirty. I'm a team player. I'm really more of a guys' girl."

The room was spinning around me. I almost didn't hear Ms. B calling my name through the racing thoughts in my head. "Is Alice Bright here?"

"Oh! Yes, I'm here!" I said, trying to compose myself. I made my way through the crowd.

"Okay, Alice Bright, boxing club."

She placed a nametag on my shirt, smoothing out the corners.

"Captain Jag Sanders. We'll see you tomorrow morning for final assignments."

She looked expectantly at me, gesturing to the tall figure standing behind her.

Jag, Jag, who is Jag? I'd heard stories about James, obviously, and about most other team captains--basketball, baseball, all the normal sports--which guys were friendly, which guys liked anal, real nasty stuff. But I hadn't heard anything about Jag.

"Come on," he said, leading me through the auditorium doors with a forceful hand on the small of my back.

He was built but lean, with dark half-moons under his eyes and dyed blonde hair buzzed close to his bead. He had a boyish face, no stubble, a few freckles, but a mean look about him. I could see curling tattoos peeking out from under his shirt collar, and the rest of his skin was dotted with deep purple bruises.

"I've got chem in here," he said, motioning for me to follow him into a classroom, which had filled up with students, all boys.

He took a seat towards the back of the room. I pulled up a chair and sat beside him, taking out a notebook and a pen. My formal free use training classes didn't begin tomorrow, but I wanted Jag to know I was capable of focus and dedication. The only thing worse than not getting a football team assignment would be not getting an assignment at all. Or worse, one of the interest clubs like chess or journalism. I had to impress him.

About halfway through the seminar, Jag mumbled something.

"Pardon me?" I asked. I guess I wanted him to know I was polite, but I was reluctant. This wasn't what I imagined.

"I said stand up."

I did as I was told. I felt the eyes of a couple students on me. The teacher briefly looked in my direction, but when Jag began fondling my ass, he went back to writing on the board. If Jag wanted to use me now, he knew there was nothing anyone could do to intervene; I was to be used anytime, anywhere.

"Take these off."

He pulled on the waistband of my shorts, letting it go so the elastic snapped against my skin. I pulled down my shorts, exposing my dripping pussy, and bent over the desk. I felt Jag behind me, admiring me from where he sat. More than a few students had turned to stare at me now, and I beamed, happy to be of service. I spread my ass cheeks as wide as I could and did my best to stay in place like that, ready to take his cock anywhere he wanted to put it.

I heard Jag rise from his chair, felt his fingers trace my pussy, finding its opening. He stuck two fingers inside of me, massaging my clit with his thumb. A moan escaped my mouth involuntarily, and I clamped down on my fist with my teeth; I didn't want to be too much of a distraction for the other students.

He pressed himself up against me, grinding his growing member up against my now-bare ass. He reached around to fondle my tits, squeezing them like he was assessing the ripeness of a melon. I could tell he was evaluating my attributes, making mental notes of the merits of his new prize. I felt a trickle of juice trailing down my inner thighs: I knew that I was pleasing him.

I heard the light clinking of his belt coming undone, felt him momentarily run the massive tip of his dick up and down me, spreading my juices all over. Without another word, he pushed inside of me. I gripped the desk, trying to breathe through the feeling of his cock stretching me out as much as it did. The boys around us smiled, looking on, admiring me. Jag just thrust away, efficiently enough; I could tell he just wanted to fill me with a load and be done with it, but the thrill of multiple sets of eyes on me, Jag's rough, quiet grunts behind me, it all began to propel me towards an intense orgasm, whether I wanted it to or not.

I did my best to look unaffected--I was supposed to be just a hole, I knew--but I couldn't help myself: I felt an orgasm begin to rip through my body, every thrust of Jag's cock inside me sending me higher and higher, until my legs shook beneath me. I felt my knees buckle and I began to slip off the desk as I rode out the final waves of pleasure. Jag lifted me by my waist and propped me back up, instructing, "Hold yourself up for me."

I nodded, did what I was told. Though he was lean, he was crazy strong; it had been nothing to catch my entire weight with his one arm and rearrange me.

He repositioned me and held me down by my hips, thrusting the full length of his dick inside me now, showing no restraint. The professor at the front of the room--I had forgotten he was still there, that anyone else was still there--called on Jag.

He stopped thrusting for a moment, leaning down over my back to grope my breasts, which hung, free from my shirt.

"Uh, the half-life would be, um..." he grasped at my breasts absentmindedly, rolling my hard nipples between his fingers. "Two minutes?"

"That's right, Mr. Sanders. Thank you."

The professor turned to another student, and Jag resumed pounding me, his cock still hard and leaking inside of me. Soon enough he came; I could feel ropes of hot come being shot inside of me. As he pulled out, I looked over my shoulder at him. He gave me a little slap on the ass, and for the first time all day, I saw him smile--a slight smile, undetectable to anyone but me, but a smile nonetheless. My stomach flipped at the thought of pleasing him so thoroughly. If I could be the one to make this hardened, egotistical fighter guy weak, I felt I had done my job. I smiled back at him, rearranging my clothes and sitting back in my seat, leaking come.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.