Unblended Ch. 13

This continuing story is based on the setting created by icedragonmo3 in their story The Blending (located at https://literotica.com/s/the-blending). It contains lots of characters of intersex gender with exaggerated proportions, oral sex, anal sex, multiple huge cumshots, cum swallowing, polyamorous relationships, incestuous relationships, twincestuous relationships, Monster Hunter erotica, and strident commentary on delivery tipping.

As always, all persons participating in sexual activities or described in a sexual manner are at least 18 years of age. All characters, locations, web sites, and scenarios presented here are a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real-world people and places is coincidental.

*****

I'd expected to be called down to the principal's office first thing that Friday morning, but I was still nervous as I headed down. My "performance" at the debates the day previous was not one of my finest hours, and I suspected Mrs. LeBeau was going to call me to account for it before levying some serious detention time. I'd talked things over with my parents at dinner the night before, and Mama said I'd just have to take my lumps. I agreed with her, but I still wasn't looking forward to it.

When I got to the office, I saw who I presumed to be Mrs. Adams's substitute sitting behind the front desk. She was turned away from me, and all I could really see was her hair, deep red and shoulder-length. It reminded me to ask after the long-time executive assistant; I hadn't heard anything since she'd given me an expert blowjob in the principal's office in an attempt to leverage my superpowered ejaculate to lessen the severity of her resurgent cancer, or maybe eliminate it entirely. I hoped she was doing alright.

"Time to face the music," I said to myself as I walked up to the desk. "Excuse me, I have a pass to see Mrs. LeBeau."

"You know, I leave for two days and you go and get yourself in trouble," the woman said, turning to face me. I was shocked nearly senseless as I realized it was Mrs. Adams herself. She looked amazing: she looked about as old as my mom, her wrinkles completely gone except for some light lines at the corners of her eyes. Those eyes had brightened considerably, and while I wouldn't have called them dull before, now they were brilliant sapphires that sparkled with mirth. Her figure hadn't changed much, and she still had big grandmother-scale breasts, but the dress she wore showed off youthful, sandy-colored skin and way more cleavage than she ever had before. Even then, her clothes looked like they belonged on someone much older than she looked.

"Mrs. A-" I started to exclaim.

"Deedee," she immediately corrected me.

"Deedee, you look amazing!"

"I know! You didn't tell me I was getting a complete makeover, but I love it! I feel 40 years younger!"

My heart suddenly leapt into my throat. "And the, uh..."

"My doctor said she's never seen anything like it," Deedee said, "every test they ran came back negative. Whatever you gave me, it did the job alright." Her eyes started tearing up, and she came out from behind the desk to give me a giant hug. Her boobs were exactly as soft as I thought they might be. "You're a miracle, Andrew Wayne, and I thank God for sending you to me."

"I'm just happy I could help," I said, returning the hug. Before I knew what was happening, Deedee pulled my face to hers and thrust her tongue into my mouth, moaning deeply. She smelled like apples and cinnamon, and her lips were incredibly soft. She cut me off before I could melt into her completely, giving me a wicked smirk.

"Ahem," a voice said, and I scrambled backwards before falling into one of the chairs behind me. Mrs. LeBeau was giving me a stern look, and she turned it on Deedee for a brief moment. "I'm not sure what brought this on, but I'd rather not have to explain to the school board why the executive assistant was ramming her tongue down a student's throat."

"Sorry, Marge," Deedee replied, returning to her desk. "Oh, Ace Wayne is here to see you," she said as an afterthought.

"Indeed," Mrs. LeBeau replied, crooking her finger at me. I slinked past her into the office and sat down as she shut the door.

"So, that was a rather spirited debate yesterday," she said, returning to her own seat. "Mrs. Greenwood thought it went very well, all things considered. Even if the other moderators took some... liberties with the questions."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd decided to not offer anything that wasn't explicitly requested and tried to keep my face as neutral as possible.

"I spoke to Miss Baxter and admonished her for the lapse in decorum. I don't need to tell you that I am disappointed in how you both handled yourselves at the end. That sort of language is unacceptable in a public forum. Even in defense of others," she said, holding her hand up to forestall my interrupting her. "Under the circumstances, I don't think there is any merit in punishing either of you for being passionate. In future, however, I expect you both to express yourselves in a more mature manner befitting otherwise upstanding students, is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied. That was something of a relief. Mrs. LeBeau had leaned back in her chair and was studying me from behind tented fingers.

"I take it Mrs. Adams was overly excited about her diagnosis changing and couldn't help herself," she said. "I suppose that's understandable for someone with a new lease on life, as it were."

"Uh, y-yeah," I replied rather nervously. I didn't like where this was going.

Mrs. LeBeau leaned forward and fixed me with a stern glare. "Mr. Wayne, I need to know if you had anything to do with Mrs. Adams's miraculous recovery."

"I couldn't just stand by and not do anything!" I said. I knew I was just making things worse for myself, but I kept going. "She's been so nice to me in the past, everyone loves her, and I was in a position to maybe help!"

"And how, precisely, did you 'help'?"

FUCK. Like a chump, I'd assumed Deedee had already opened the bag to explain things, otherwise Mrs. LeBeau would have been way angrier to find her executive assistant making out with a student. I slumped down in my chair and muttered a response.

"What was that?" the principal said. "I didn't quite catch that."

"She swallowed my ejaculate."

Mrs. LeBeau's eyes widened a little but soon returned to their previous stern setting. "Explain."

I started telling her everything that had been discovered about my magic cum, the transformative and (now fairly well confirmed) restorative properties it conferred on its recipients. I don't know why I felt the need to explain absolutely everything, I probably could have left Donna's penile reduction or my mom's complete makeover out, but when Mrs. LeBeau said she needed to know about something, one tended to capitulate and give her the complete record. When I finished, her expression hadn't changed at all.

"So, essentially, you've affected physical changes in every sexual partner you've had in the past two weeks that has ingested your semen, a list that not only includes four of your classmates but the doctors investigating your condition, a member of this school's administrative staff, and your parents."

I felt the blood drain out of my face as I nodded slowly. The principal just kept staring at me, and I started getting very warm under the collar from the scrutiny. After what seemed like an hour, she closed her eyes and filled her lungs slowly, releasing the air in a long sigh. She leaned forward and collected a few notes from her desk, holding them up for me to see.

"Over the past few days, I asked for assessments of your behavior and effects upon others from your teachers. I believed that they would have some insights on how you were integrating back into the general population, and I let them know I would be asking for such assessments on a regular basis. To a woman, they said you are an exemplary student and wished there were more like you. 'Polite', 'courteous', 'attentive', 'engaged'; these and other such adjectives appear frequently, and if that was all, I'd dismiss my concerns and move on. However, also to a woman, they reported seeing your unique effects on your classmates or, more troublingly, feeling those effects themselves. Mrs. Sikorski reported an incident from two days ago where, during a blackboard exercise, it felt as though her class was one step away from devolving into an orgy. Others admitted to having very improper thoughts about you, though clearly they haven't acted on them. Unlike me."

She placed the notes back on her desk and removed her pince-nez. "After our... encounter yesterday, I tried to understand why I did what I did. That sort of conduct with an enrolled student is completely unacceptable, and I have never, in my entire professional career, contemplated behaving in such a manner. Yesterday's assignation represented a gross lapse in my duties as an educator. Suffice to say, such lapses cannot happen again."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, "I'm trying to control it better."

"You're an 18-year-old boy with all the hormones and sensibilities that come with that age," Mrs. LeBeau responded, "I appreciate you offering to take a share of the blame, but there's only so much to go around." She sighed again. "I could have and should have known better. Will you accept my apology for placing you in that situation to begin with?"

"Of course, ma'am. I accept your apology." I maybe said it a little quickly.

She waited for a moment before nodding. "You want to tell me I don't have anything to apologize for."

"The thought crossed my mind."

"Miss Roberts said the same thing. That you are 18 and are fully capable of making your own decisions. She may have also begged to watch if it happened again, but that's immaterial." She closed her eyes and seemed to grimace a little, as if she were trying very hard to control herself for some reason.

I wasn't expecting her to mention Liz, the principal's... girlfriend? Submissive, certainly. I wasn't sure about the specifics of their relationship, but I knew enough that Mrs. LeBeau was in charge and Liz was her willing servant. I was also weirdly touched that Liz supported me getting freaky with her mistress, ethical considerations be damned. "How is she?" I asked.

"She's well," Mrs. LeBeau replied, "better this morning, at any rate. We went a bit overboard yesterday..." Her voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying. "Hmm. I wonder..."

"Ma'am?" From the look on her face, Mrs. LeBeau was considering something.

"Would you say that you are easy to talk to?" she asked.

"I mean, not that I've-" I stopped and thought about it for a moment. I always tried to be there for my friends in the past, but people had been confiding in me lately, way more than usual: Michiko's fear that I was going to steal Tessa from her and her possible carnal interests in her sister Yukio, Tanya and her mom both telling me they had sexytimes together, Donna opening up to me on the night of Tanya's party, Mom's hidden desires for me coming to light after that first doctor's appointment, the Foster twins trying to keep quiet under the bleachers as they fucked but seemingly having no problems with me watching, Jenny Lynx admitting that she caught serious feelings for me from out of nowhere and wanting to explore that when she could; hell, in a twisted sense, Kate Baxter railing against me at the debates, infuriated by my apparent life on Easy Street, fell into the same category, as that was the first time I'd ever seen her as anything but a cheerful, friendly (if plastic) politico. There was also Coach Traeger to consider, she was clearly going through some things and seemed like she wanted to talk to me about them, but always held back. I'd been worried about whatever magic mojo I had going compelling girls to want me, but now, it seemed that wasn't all it could do. Or, in Jenny's case, that it needed to be physically present to do it.

My face must have answered for me, as the principal suddenly nodded. "I see." She sat up and arranged herself behind the desk. "I'm going to give your doctor a call and discuss what we've talked about, and we will certainly need to chat again soon." She sighed. "I need to consider what to do about you, and I will need some more expert advice on your condition than I have available to me right now. I'll also need to report to the school board about the effects you seem to be having on your classmates, though that can wait for now. As for you, to put this bluntly, I need you to keep it in your pants. No more kissing in the halls, fondling under tables, or sexual activity of ANY kind in the bathrooms." She paused for a moment before adding "at least for today."

"I can do that," I said. "It might get rough later in the day, but I'll figure something out."

Mrs. LeBeau nodded. "I appreciate the degree of difficulty involved. Hopefully, once I've had some time to sort things out, we can determine what further accommodations we can make. That's all, head back to class."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, grabbing my stuff and making my exit. Mrs. Adams gave me a sympathetic look.

"How'd it go, killer?" she asked.

"I'm not quite sure," I said, leaning against the front desk. "I don't think I'm IN trouble, but it's pretty clear that I AM trouble, if that makes sense."

Mrs. Adams laughed. "I told her that on day one. Do you have any plans on Sunday?"

"Uh, I have a shift at Gina's. Why do you ask?"

"To start, I still need to thank you properly," she said, without any hint of innuendo, "and some of my grandchildren want to meet this fella that helped me out in my time of need."

"What did you tell them?"

"Nothing specific yet, though I thought I might if you'd join us for brunch? Having you there would help."

That seemed reasonable enough. They were her grandkids, if anyone deserved to know what had happened, her family did. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Mrs. Adams flashed me a heartwarming smile before handing me a pass back to class and a note with her address. "Off you go, then, food'll be ready probably around 11:30. Hey!" She reached out and pulled me across the desk to plant a quick kiss on my lips. "They'll be more where that came from later, stud!"

*****

Until that moment, I had always felt like the monsters we had been trained to hunt, a freak of nature destined to live out their days alone and unloved. But when that man, that beautiful, joyful, sweet, wonderful man first took to hand my alien appendage, which before had filled me with dread and disgust; when his gentle touch aroused it to firmness, when he wrapped his full lips around the tip and moaned deeply, I finally experienced the love and closeness I so craved. I cried aloud as I released immediately, sending copious amounts of issue into his warm and willing mouth.

Tanya had finally gotten around to sending me some links to her writing, specifically a new fanfic she'd started based on Monster Hunter World where the monsters transformed into busty waifus when captured, the team of hunters proceeding to have all kinds of sexy fun with them afterwards. The main character was blended, as were about half of the monster waifus thus far, but such people were very rare in the setting she'd built and the character was working through some serious self-image issues.

Tanya's writing was very good, if it tended towards the purple a little more than I would have normally cared for. Still, she knew how to build a world, and I was hooked on the story within a few paragraphs. My nose was in my phone all through the first half of study hall and into lunch, so I didn't even notice Amy Hauser trying to get my attention until she started shouting in my ear.

"WHAT ARE YOU READING."

"GAH!" My phone went flying as I desperately tried to keep my seat, and Amy plucked it gracefully out of the air before offering it back to me. I was a little surprised she didn't try to look at it first.

"Oh, it's some dirty fanfic someone recommended," I said, and Amy immediately pulled the phone back from me.

"Oooh, I wanna see... His oral ministrations paused only briefly as I finally accepted his own turgid mast into my mouth. His sweat and the beginnings of his manly cream combined on my tongue into an exquisite bouquet, and I grew ravenous for every drop of his spend... Oh, hey, this is Tanya's, isn't it?"

"Uh..." Amy smirked when she saw my look of shock.

"Hey, I recognize her writing. Mrs. Hawthorne runs a creative writing seminar over the summer, and we've both attended the past few years. I'd know her style anywhere. I didn't know she wrote anything this spicy, though."

I relaxed a little at that. "Yeah, she's very good, though she reads like a Victorian romance novelist sometimes."

"Right?" Amy said with a laugh. "It's really entertaining." Amy kept scrolling through the fanfic, and a flash of color appeared in her cheeks. "Wow, she really goes for it in these sex scenes, huh?"

"Weirdly? I haven't been paying attention."

Amy gave me an incredulous look. "Yeah, right."

"No, seriously!" I said defensively. "She's building an incredible world here, I got sucked into the story pretty thoroughly. I mean, I absolutely want her to read it to me while I go down on her, don't you worry about that, but I'm really invested in this story and these characters."

"Uh huh," Amy said, giving me a wink. She handed my phone back and started unpacking her lunch. "So, uh, some debate yesterday."

I slumped back in my chair with a harrumph. "I've been trying not to think about it, Mrs. LeBeau read me the riot act this morning. I heard Kate recovered pretty well, though."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Amy huffed. "If she hadn't been in hysterics afterwards, I would have sworn she'd planned the whole th-... wait, you didn't-"

"I did not collude with that woman," I said, stopping Amy in her tracks. "You vote yet?"

"Yeah."

"You write in 'dissolution of the student council' for President?"

"Of course. You?"

"No, I should probably go do that. Vote, I mean, not support the anarchist movement."

I got up and wandered over to the polling place, by which I mean a cafeteria table designated for the job. Mrs. Greenwood and Leslie Wynan were handing out ballots and minding the box. The latter smiled at me and offered a ballot as I walked up.

"Sorry about yesterday," I said, and both women waved me off.

"I appreciate seeing some passion in student government for once," Mrs. Greenwood said. "There's a lot to be said for civility, but, honestly? If it means seeing honest reactions from candidates, fuck civility."

Leslie nodded. "You're totally fine. Amy checked with me beforehand, if I was okay being the setup for a joke. That's one of my favorite episodes, for obvious reasons, of course it was okay."

I borrowed a pencil, stepped over to some voting booths they had set up nearby, and filled the ballot out. One more vote for Kate, and I hoped the one that got her elected, at least. I folded it up, deposited it in the box, said "A fine mahok to you all," and returned to my lunch.

"Democracy in action," I said, and Amy smirked at me. "Say, how're things with Jamie?"

"Great!" Amy said. She shifted over to sit right next to me as we ate. "She's been sending demos out to different labels, hopefully someone will bite."

"They will if they're smart," I said. Amy suddenly got real quiet, and I thought I detected a small sigh. "Something up?"

"Do you know what you want to do after school?" she asked. "I mean after graduation and college."

"Porn." I said confidently, and I got the laughs I was looking for. "I mean, I may not wait until I graduate, but, seriously, I haven't given it a lot of thought. I don't even know where I'm going to college yet. What about you?"