Taking The Class Pt. 01

Alaina rubbed at her eyes. "Really?" Can... Can that really be the case?

"Everyone knows how much you've given to the school, they'll have your back. I know they will. Believe me, A."

"What about jobs? What hospital is going to hire an [Onahole]?"

Ayanna grabbed the smaller girl's shoulder, looking her right in the eye. "You'll find a way to make them hire you, A. You always find a way. People won't even notice about your Class by the time you're looking for a place to work. They'll just see the name Alaina Bishop and a resume with pages and pages of qualifications."

Is that possible? She's just saying it. There's no way... But she looks so sincere. Does she really believe that? Am I really so capable in her eyes? "I don't—"

"And you know how I know?" Ayanna steamrolled over her, looking resolute. "What's been my goal, Alaina? I'm an [Organizer], right?"

"Yeah," Alaina said, a quizzical expression on her face. "You always talked about wanting to run a business, so you were hoping for something like [Administrator] or [Director]..."

"I did wanna run my own business. Seeing my dad grow his consulting agency over the years... I wanted to be just like him. But without the whole embezzling thing, that was super dumb. I'd be on the cover of one of those 'richest business owners of America' magazines like 'Ayanna Bledsoe: Skills that pay the bills'." She squeezed Alaina's shoulder and smiled, her eyes dancing with excitement. "I just decided though. You know what a hospital is, A? It's a business. And I'm gonna learn to manage one. I'll be there with you the whole way. Friends forever, right, A?"

Alaina jerked upright, agog at her friend. "You... Really? You'd do that for me? You'd give up your dream of being independent just to come babysit me? No, you can't—"

"I can't?" Ayanna put on a mock-serious face. "Now listen here, whippersnapper. I'm gonna be the one in charge here, and I'll be the one who decides what can or can't be done when I'm running whatever hospital we end up at. You just think about all those books you're gonna have to read to become my top doc."

Alaina squealed and tackled her best friend sideways, squeezing her like a body pillow. "You really mean it," she said in a high-pitched voice. "I love you, Ay!"

"I love you too, A." Ayanna patted her head. "You're like my sister, you know I'd do anything for you." She glanced over at her friend's now-uncovered—and very naked—butt. "Well, almost anything."

"Hey, do you wanna sleep over tonight? Mom left me a message saying she was going to sleep at the dormitory the next few days until her thing is over, so the house is empty otherwise. Um. I can make a tuna casserole?"

"Whoa, you know I'm staying if you're makin' my fave. Cream of chicken though, right? You know I hate mushrooms. A? Stop giggling. Alaina! I'm serious!"

* * *

"You okay to drive, A? I can take you, it's not a big deal."

The pair were stepping out the front door of Alaina's house.

"You've gotta get home and change before school. And shower. I'll be fine, don't worry about it." Alaina fumbled with her key, hands shaking as she tried to lock the door. She was panting lightly.

"It's that bad?"

"It's...manageable." Alaina took a deep breath. It feels like my entire body is vibrating. The key glanced off the opening of the lock once more before she finally managed to slot it in. She twisted, engaging the bolt for the door lock. "I'll be fine." She turned and started walking towards her sedan which she'd parked in the driveway's alcove to avoid blocking the garage.

Ayanna fell into step beside her. "You sure, A? I don't want something to happen if you get distracted while you're driving..."

"Really, I'm good. I can do this. I need to do this."

Ayanna gave her friend a hard look.

Alaina had outfitted herself in a pair of ebony wedge pumps with a sensible mid-calf length, earth-hued skirt topped by a supple, wide brown leather belt. A loose, sky-blue blouse covered her torso. She walked along, seemingly with her usual grace, as Ayanna tried to spot anything that looked like a serious sign of a sex-brain-triggered loss of motor control.

"If you keep staring at me I'm gonna start thinking you're checking me out," said Alaina after a few more steps of being eyeballed by her friend.

"Okay, okay." Ayanna said in an exasperated tone. She pulled her backpack higher up over her shoulder. "At least text me when you get there? I'll check my phone between classes."

"Fine, Boss." Alaina smirked.

"Can't have my future employees getting injured before they're my employees, right?" Ayanna smirked back.

They laughed after a moment of grinning at each other, an evening of heckling old movies and eating comfort food having restored some semblance of normalcy to their usual dynamic.

"Okay, so I'll see you for lunch. Cafeteria again, or..."

Why not. I should spend less time in the office. "Yeah, sounds good," Alaina said.

"Great." Ayanna smiled broadly, looking over the roof of her car. She pulled the door handle, climbed in with her bag, and after a "See ya later!" and a wave, closed the door and drove off.

Alaina took a deep breath, then exhaled. Okay, here we go!

* * *

The ten minute drive to the building just outside the city limits passed quickly and without incident. She remembered no part of it. Her arousal had been even worse when she'd awoke that morning, and it was to the point where even holding a conversation was challenging without drifting off into a fantasy about getting skewered by some mystery hunk.

The brown building was as sprawling as it was squat, like a giant brick breast on the field of the side road she'd driven down to reach it. There were few other cars in the cleavage at just past eight in the morning. If I had to park any farther away I don't think I could have made it. Her legs trembled as she walked. I should have gone for comfort over style today. Pumps were a bad decision. Not as bad as something with a bigger heel, but I should have just worn sneakers or something. It's not like I need to dress up for anyone. There's not going to be any hot guys here, ready to sneak into a toilet with me for a few minutes if I just flutter my eyes a little bit like this...

The entryway had a thick hymen that she had trouble forcing her way through. It wasn't that her thrust was too weak, it was that the metal was cold, and the sensation against her furnace-like skin was unbelievably disorienting.

I guess it's finally going to happen. I'll be branded with this for the rest of my life. She wobbled slightly during her walk through the atrium, heading towards the penis-shaped check-in desk which gated off access to the rest of the building like a diaphragm. She checked the directory shaft for the Federal Class Facility as she passed. Second floor for registrations. There better be a fucking elevator.

The middle-aged woman at check-in pressed a metal clitoris on her desk, buzzing the horny eighteen year old through the building's labia minora without a second glance after seeing her ID.

There was an elevator. Lots of elevators, in fact. I'm supposed to take this one...

She walked over to the elevator which the receptionist had indicated and pressed the up arrow.

The elevator moved so slowly that she wondered whether it was in service. At last it chimed and opened, permitting her to cum inside. She pressed the '2' button and waited while she advanced up the shaft, clutching her handbag in front of her. I packed sooo many more backups today. I could change every hour if I had to! She giggled. The elevator dinged, and the doors erupted outwards. After a brief stumble, she ejaculated herself.

A door with the heading "Registration" above it loomed off to the left, and she frowned: her left nipple was erect—almost painfully so. Other doors, without markings, led to various office-looking locations. She headed towards her destination, her pace slow but steady, her nipple rubbing against her bra.

Upon forcing her way through the second hymen, she was assaulted by a gust of cold air. She shivered. A counter greeted her, staffed by an older woman.

"Penis?" said the woman.

Alaina blinked. "Excuse me?" she said.

"Sign in?" the lady repeated, looking unamused. She pointed at a clipboard with a stack of papers.

"R-right," said Alaina. "Sorry." She saw her name printed at the top of the first sheet of paper. A pen was attached to the clipboard by a string. A fat pen. She stared at it. It stared back. That looks like the perfect size for—

"You the eight-thirty? Alaina Bishop? Name's at the top, hun." The receptionist reached over the counter, pointing at her name. "Bit early, you'll have to wait 'till we start processing. You can have a seat over there once you sign." The lady gestured to several rows of chairs against the far wall.

"Oh. Thanks." Alaina blushed. She grasped the pen gingerly, only stroking it a single time with her thumb before she scribbled something which bore no resemblance to her signature.

She put the pen down. Her legs turned her body and began carrying her towards the chairs. She chose one, then descended onto it, letting out a deep sigh when she bottomed out.

Well, at least I'm keeping it together so far. She sighed, a contented smile on her face. And nothing crazy has happened either. She stroked her hand deliberately back and forth along the armrest. It's so smooth...

She spaced out for a while, marveling at the smoothness and hardness of the chair's wooden armrest. And it's round!

After a time, Alaina looked around, eyes searching for other similarly round objects. I can't imagine if this building wasn't empty. I don't know if I could handle it if there were more people. Especially if there were any guys. She glanced at the woman working behind the counter, poking away at her computer. As long as he's not completely hideous, I would one thousand percent fuck the next guy that comes into this room—

The door flew open, and someone entered. A guy? Oh no. His head swiveled, and their eyes met.

"Alaina!" Will White voiced a greeting from the doorway, and he rushed over, his dirty blond bangs bouncing with each step and contrasting with his still-black eye, causing it to stand out more distinctly. "Darling, sorry I couldn't make it sooner. I got your message. Are you all right?" His brilliant blue eyes shone with concern for her well-being. "Let's go, Lainy, I'll walk you out."

Her brain melted.

It wasn't until they were out of the room and on the landing between floors in the stairwell that she reconstituted her ability to think.

"What—"

Will put his index finger to her lips, silencing her. "We don't have time. It's just about 8:30. I know everything."

She tried to speak, but ended up fellating his finger instead, her eyes heavily lidded.

"Um." He paused, watching her work on his digit.

She could see the wheels spinning in his head. She used more tongue. Guys like more tongue, don't they?

"Ayanna didn't tell me it was this bad. Maybe she didn't know? Oh, wow, that's quite the suction. Prez, you really have me at a loss for words once again." He pulled his finger out from between her full, moistened lips with a pop. He wiped it on his shirt, a gray pullover which showed off his toned chest to a modest degree.

Nooo my toy! She reached for the finger, but he gently intercepted her hand and held it still.

"Prez! Snap out of it!" He put his hands to her cheeks, peering into her eyes, his expression wrought with concern. "I can help you. I think." He released her and paced back and forth, looking out the big, paneled windows. After a few seconds, he turned back to her. "Look, I'm sorry, okay. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't expect things to go how they did on Monday. I fucked up, and that's on me. I thought we were on the same page, but..." He trailed off.

She stared at him, hoping for another treat to suck on. Or maybe more than just suck...

"I need you to be awake. Now." He hissed at her. "I need you to focus! Alaina, please! Do you really want to get registered as an [Onahole]?"

His words echoed through her muddled brain, triggering a cascade of thoughts. Memories surfaced, iced over, sunk. She felt like her brain had been thrown into a cooler of ice. Cold rage filled her, and she glared up at him with baleful eyes. "You."

His expression turned to one of relief. "Oh, there you are, Prez. Glad to have you back. I guess this probably won't last long? Let's not find out." He spoke quickly, not letting her get a word in edgewise. His speaking pace accelerated somehow, and he approached the speed of an auctioneer. "Look, I know you're still pissed at me. We should talk. At length. Really, I want to make things right between us. You have to believe me on that. Ayanna even told me when your appointment was. She believed I wanted to help, so that should mean something to you, right? I hope so. Anyway, here's the thing: I can—I think—fake your registration. But we've only got one shot at it and you have to do exactly as I say, right here, right now. I mean literally one hundred percent exact. I'm risking a lot here, you know this is a felony charge if I get caught right? And I've got a French test in less than twenty minutes that I have to ace to keep my class rank. But I'm here, and you're here, and I'm offering, so what do you say?"

She pressed her lips together, mind reeling at the verbal assault. What the fuck is going on. Oh, fuck, I barely even remember getting here. I can't believe I drove like this! How am I even alive? She felt the haze of arousal start to creep back in, and caught herself staring at the crotch of his khakis. No, no! She looked back up to see if he noticed. His expression was still mostly concern. Maybe he didn't see me checking out his package? No, he totally saw. But I still haven't seen it. No! Focus! She clutched at her temples.

I can't hold on. This is the longest of long shots. Ayanna, I can't believe you told him! "What do you want me to do?" she said.

"Say the word 'asclepeian'," he said. When she hesitated, he repeated himself. "Say it! If they come looking for us..."

"Asclepian?" she tried, the word unfamiliar to her.

"No, asclepeian. The third syllable is like a long A. Like how Ayanna calls you."

"Asclepeian."

"Good. Perfect. Now this is important. I need you to take one step this way," he pointed towards the stairs going down, "But stay facing me. And then repeat these words, exactly as I say them. Ready?"

She nodded, feeling her moment clarity fading.

"Okay, here goes: Dear, tell them my Class is 'asclepeian'. I feel really sick. I'm going to the bathroom, can you proxy for me?"

"What—"

"Do it!" he shouted, scaring her enough that her clarity persisted a few moments longer.

She took a single, shaky step. "Dear," she said, her thoughts and expression torn between anger, confusion, and creeping lust. "Tell them my Class is 'asclepeian'.", she managed to say it correctly this time, "I feel really sick. I'm going to the bathroom, will you proxy for me?" She paused upon finishing, then opened her mouth again to ask what was going on.

His fist smashed into her solar plexus, driving the wind from her lungs.

Her mind went white. She crumpled to the floor of the landing, gasping for breath on her side, purse draped over the top of her. She felt the bowl of cereal coming up and retched, a dry heave. She struggled to take in air, then heaved again. She felt a piece of cereal in her mouth and swallowed it back down.

"Perfect, exactly how it needed to go," she heard Will's voice, but it sounded distant. She choked out a small amount of air, still fighting feebly to breathe. "You're really the best actress, Prez. I'm sorry it had to be like this, but that's how the Skill works. Don't move, I'll be back soon. Wish me luck?"

She heard a few heavy-sounding steps from somewhere, but it was like her head was spinning around, and she was unable to orient herself. She heaved lightly one final time, then sucked in a tiny breath. She exhaled, inhaled again. This time she managed to take in a bit more air. She came up slowly, sitting up against the railing. She breathed again, getting even more air. Several minutes passed before she was able to focus on anything other than taking a full breath.

What... What the fuck. Why... What the fuck?

Arousal was the furthest thing from her mind at that moment. She had once again become a being of mostly pure rage. With a little confusion.

I can't believe he did that! What the fuck! I almost died! She felt at her chest, finding the area tender to the touch. If this leaves a permanent mark—

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and she looked up. Will's grinning visage greeted her. He waved a paper in front of him and bounded down the stairs two and three at a time. She stood up, hefting her purse. This time I'll get the other eye to even it out...

"Again, I'm sorry. I tried to come up with something more reasonable—for you—but I couldn't think of anything better in the drive over. It's really not a very long drive, is it? We can talk about it later, I've gotta get going so I don't miss my test. But here, Prez, this is for you." He presented her with the paper. "You're no longer an [Onahole]. At least, according to government record."

She snatched the paper out of his hands, staring at it with quivering eyes. Registered Class: Asclepeian. It read in the section reading "Designation". How. She whipped her gaze up to him, taking in how he was grinning cautiously down at her, waiting for a reaction.

"Is this real?" she demanded. It can't be real. He must have forged this somehow...

"Yup, you're in the system officially with this. Ah, if you look at the corner, yes, right there, you can see the official stamp. As long as you don't give them a reason to reevaluate, this is the new you. Publicly, at least."

Her lips trembled. Her eyes watered. She hurled herself at the taller boy. He flinched, and she wrapped her arms around him, trying to squeeze the life out of him—in a good way this time. "Thank you," she whispered, shuddering. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. You don't know what this means to me."

They stood there for a few moments, Will holding his arms up, avoiding touching her. She sniffled against his chest, a tear of joy leaking out of her eye, and then felt an arm wrap itself tentatively around her. She smiled. He did it. He really did it. I don't know how, I don't even know that I care. Ay was right.

"You do need to be a bit more careful," Will said after a couple minutes. "Don't ever talk about your Class in school again. It could end worse than it did last time."

She let the words wash over her, not really paying attention. She nodded against his shirt, enjoying the texture against her cheek. "Sure, whatever you say," she said. "Thank you."

"You know, Prez," he said, gently pushing her to arm's length and meeting her eyes with a half-smirk, "If you really want to show your gratitude, this is a pretty good spot for a sequel to Monday. You could hike your skirt up and bend over that railing." He waggled his eyebrows. "Maybe you'd see someone out the window in the parking lot to wave at?"

Her mind blanked. Is he serious? She stared up at him, blinking. I don't think so? The next moment, her eyes took on a calculating look. But what if I'm serious?

"Turn around for a sec," she said.