Wishes Gone Wrong - Slut High Pt. 01

She reached behind her desk and pulled out a box labeled 'lost and found.'

"Strip. I'm confiscating those ugly rags of yours. Honestly, sometimes I don't know what's wrong with you girls these days. Who would ever want to see you dressed like that? We have some proper clothes in here. I trust you can find something in your size.

I looked in the box. My blush extended. I had thought my drawers at home had been skimpy, but this... I reached down and plucked a thin translucent white string. Was this supposed to be underwear?

"Quickly, young lady. You are late for class."

I shot her a sarcastic look and immediately regretted it. Even with the sexy youthful edge to her looks, this woman could out-glare the sun.

Eager to be out of there as soon as possible, I grabbed the most modest things I could find and tried to avoid showing this leering woman too much of my naked flesh as I changed.

Soon I was dressed in a low-cut off-the shoulder blouse, short enough above the midriff to present just the shadow of my underboob. I tried putting on something underneath it to keep from spilling out, but what I thought had been a bra was in fact a string bikini that did very little to hide my assets. At least it kept things in place. I was grateful I was allowed to keep my underwear. I'd need it with the way my ass hung out of my short jean-skirt.

"See? Isn't that much better? We'll make a good girl of you yet, Ms. Thompson."

"Yes ma'am." I nodded, teetering in my pink six-inch pumps. I looked like a whore.

I checked the time as I rushed out of the office. I'd missed homeroom entirely and was now late for first period. The air in the halls felt cool against my skin, but I didn't know if that was because of all the exposed skin, or if I was just a hot fucking mess.

I scampered as quickly as I could to class. The bikini top kept my tits from bouncing, sure, but it was so tight I had to hold one hand over my chest whenever I moved to keep them from popping.

Jesus christ. I couldn't believe that had happened. It had all been so fast. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined getting bent over like that. I was a guy; the shoe was supposed to be on the other foot. Except now... fuck. I shook my head. I could feel myself getting hornier just remembering it. Why was this such a turn on?

I slipped into my math class, one hand still clutched self consciously over my breasts. I tried to be casual, but I could feel the collective gaze of the entire classroom upon me as I wiggled my scantily clad body over to hand the teacher the tardiness excuse. The fact that the stares I was getting were hungry and lustful instead of judgemental was of little consolation. With the way my ass hung out of my skirt I was sure everyone could see the red marks on my behind. I felt like a piece of meat hanging in a butcher's window.

My math teacher -- once an elderly Latino man with a limp and a mole, now a stunning dark-skinned brunette with a cleavage-stuffed bodice and a beauty mark -- took the note and directed me to my seat. Someone made a snide comment I couldn't quite make out, and then there was giggling from the seated girls.

I don't think I'd ever been so embarrassed in my life. I sat down and pulled out my books, burying my head to hide my humiliation.

"Are you okay?" Came a small voice from beside me. I turned and looked at Jean. "She got you good, huh? Don't worry, we've all been there. Remember that time we got caught sneaking into the boy's locker room of that private school?"

I stared at her in disbelief.

"Well," she shrugged. "at least you got a new outfit out of it? Don't get me wrong, there's something to be said for the tight sweater look," she bit her lip as she roamed her lewd eyes over my body, then reached her hand across the aisle and rubbed at my exposed thigh, "but I definitely prefer you like this."

I looked away in surprise, heart once again pounding in my chest as I sat bolt upright. I wasn't used to getting hit on, let alone by my formerly male best friend turned nymphomaniac school girl.

What followed was a surprising bit of normality. It seemed not even being taught by a vivacious, scantily clad harlot could make calculus interesting. Not that the teacher, hot as she was, stood out compared to the students she taught. I did my best to pay attention, to try not to be a stare too obviously at the lustful bodies of my classmates and teacher, but as time went on it became harder and harder. There was enough scandalous flesh in this room to fill a year's worth of raging teenage fantasies and I was helpless against the urge to catalogue every visible inch.

Soon, with each passing second and each lustful glimpse, the flame of my arousal, already high and needy from my time in the principle's office, the press of my friend's body, and the taste of my mother's hot tongue, rose into a restless inferno. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as my breathing became short. I could hear my body's cries to give into the carnal heat of flesh on soft flesh. It echoed in the stiffness of my nipples as they begged to be squeeze and in the yearning of my hot chasm screaming out to be filled. Base desires flooded my brain.

I clenched and unclenched my fist. Sex. My thoughts kept coming back to sex. Hot fantasies flashed through my brain. Sex. I could just imagine how good it would be. Hell, this morning's masturbation alone had been better than anything I'd ever felt as a guy. What would full blown actual sex feel like? How would it feel to have a girl's face pressed against my wet snatch, her tongue gently flicking as I rode her to hour upon hot sweaty hour of earth shaking, toe curling orgasms. I gritted my teeth. No, that was good but it wasn't enough. I needed more. I needed...

There was a soft gasp. I blushed. Had that been me?

But no, there it was again.

Sitting not two seats away was a girl I barely even recognized. She had one hand discretely beneath her desk, holding a pencil that disappeared into the folds of her short tartan skirt. Her pigtails bounced gently as her eyes glazed over in quiet rapture.

Normally, the girl who sat there had been this pudgy self-conscious nerd. Now though, she was anything but. She could have passed for a nerd at a sorority Halloween party, maybe. If it wasn't for her thick rimmed glasses, I don't think I'd even have recognized her at all.

One of the girl's neighbors was looking down at that pencil enviously while the other squirmed in her seat, trying to keep the erotic display from turning her on too. I chewed on my lip as the soft horny noises the girl was making began to grow in volume and intensity. I could hear heavy breathing, then I realized it was my own.

"Jennifer!" the teacher snapped. The girl's eyes went wide in alarm, her errant pencil whipping out of the girl's skirt and onto the table above.

"Can't you wait until the end of class like the rest of us?"

"Sorry, ma'am." she blushed.

There was a chorus of giggles from the rest of the class.

The reprieve would be shortly lived. Despite her humiliation she was right back at it before too long. Poor girl. I knew how she felt. Each second that ticked by dragged with it a slow horny eternity. Finally, ten minutes before the bell, the teacher put down her chalk. Her face was flush. She looked just as fed up with resisting her primal urges as I did.

"Alright class," there was a simmer in her voice. "I think that's about enough calculus for today, don't you agree? Let's finish up with some uh, free study, why don't we?"

There was a murmur of agreement from the class. A few of them were already going for their bags. I was confused. The teachers normally ran us right into the bell. If anyone else found it strange though, they didn't let on.

Then the toys came out.

Vibrators, dildos, dongs, plugs, beads, clamps. Every girl in the class was pulling some sort of masturbatory aid from their bags. A few of them, who had been masturbating quietly with pencils or hands until now, were now spreading their legs as they stopped trying to hide their indiscretion.

My eyes bulged. My pussy jumped.

The entire class quickly descended into a cooing free-for-all of pent up sexual energy. Some were in pairs or groups, but most were solo, feeding their carnal hungers with a desperate enthusiasm, pawing at their bodies and scratching their deep horny itch with whatever long, hard, or buzzing thing they had handy. The smell of pheromones and arousal was an intoxicating perfume. I squeezed my legs together tightly.

I turned to look at Jean, confused, only to see her leaned back with one leg up on her desk, shorts down around one ankle, a six-inch rabbit buzzing away in her bare pink cunt.

"Jean?" I swallowed hard.

"H-huh?" she groaned. "Oh, sorry," she laughed, "Did you want to go doubles?" My eyes couldn't help but follow as she pulled it out and waved the slick purple phallus in front of me. "You know I love the sounds you make when I plunge this thing into you."

I whimpered. Oh god, that sounded so good. Yes, a thousand times yes. I wanted her to bend me over and make me her bitch, to slake the hot fires of my lust with her deep powerful thrusts. I needed... I needed to...

No. No, this wasn't right. I stood up. My head was swimming. My knees were weak.

A few of the girls at the front - cheerleaders I think they were - weren't satisfied with just getting one hole stuffed. They'd suction-cupped these enormous dildos onto their chairs and the surface of their desks and were pumping their heads up and down on the one while bouncing in their seats on the other. They were swallowing the thick rubbery dildos before them eight or ten inches deep, moaning as the rubbery sculpted veins of the long hard shafts passed by their lips.

I bit my plump lip so hard it bled. Fuck that looked good. I wonder what that would fee like. A long hot stick of meat pumping away at my mouth as I coaxed some totally hung guy to dump his warm sticky load down my slutty throat while his friends propped up my eager ass and drove their thick shafts deep into my quivering, hypersensitive cunt.

"Jamie?" asked Jean "Are you okay?

I swallowed, hard. Fuck, no. No, no, no. I was not okay. I looked around. Everything suddenly came sharply into focus. All of the warm thoughts of all the things I wanted to do to these girls paled in comparison the bright burning star of desire I now realized had been building up inside me all day. That, that was what I needed. I needed someone to shove a hot dick inside of me and make me theirs. I needed to get pinned down and worked over like the moaning whore I was. I needed to get fucked.

Oh god. What the hell had happened to me? Why was I thinking like this?

"I have to get out of here."

"Hey, wait!"

I pushed my chair out and ran for the door. The teacher barely even gave me a second glance. Her half-lidded eyes were rolled back up into her head as she ground a small throbbing vibrator into her clitoris with one hand while she ploughed her dribbling cunt with the other. I shivered in envy.

I slammed the door behind me. The cool air of the hallway was a welcome reprieve from the hot miasma of lust, though it did little to slake the overwhelming conflagration built up inside me.

I stumbled forward in a stupor, trying to restore some semblance of sense to my brain, trying desperately to think about anything besides a thick meaty dick splitting me open and a strong pair of hands holding me down as I screamed out in roiling orgasmic joy.

Each time I managed to regain even an ounce of my composure, a passionate gasp or moan would rise from a nearby classroom. I tried to block it out, but it was painfully clear that the entire fucking school had descended into a gooey pool of sapphic autoeroticism.

I closed my eyes and ran forwards. I needed to get out of here.

Cold water splashed at my face.

I blinked. A flustered brunette slut stared back at me from a mirror. Her every expression begged for release. Her tits had popped out of her top at some point, her throbbing pencil-eraser nipples an advertisement to any rough hands who would care to listen.

The bathroom. I'd made it to the bathroom.

I let out a hot breath and splashed again.

What the hell was I doing? Why was I thinking like this? Why did the idea of getting fucked fill me with such desperate need?

My mind warred with my body. This is what I'd wanted wasn't it? To get laid?

But no, not like this. I should be the guy doing the fucking, not the howling slut getting her needy cunt stuffed. There was something about that idea that seemed so absurd though. Why would I ever want to be the guy in that scenario, when it felt so fucking good to be the girl?

No. No, damnit! I slammed a shaking fist down upon the sink. I was a man. A straight man. I didn't care what kind of a body I now had, if there was one thing I was sure of it was that. I wasn't about to give that up, no matter how good it felt.

Where the fuck did the genie get off fucking around with my sexuality like this? I mean, with all the smoking hot girls around me I guess I wasn't completely gay or anything, and yet...

I bit my lip as I pictured a cute guy walking in, his muscles glistening, his body tall, his arms strong. Mmm, I could just imagine that musky smell. I grasped at one of my painfully erect nipples, imagining his rough hands running along my delicate quivering body.

"Oh god."

I fell to my knees and buried a hand in my snatch, wishing it was his, building closer and closer as he pounded into me, used me, made me his. His great length filling me up completely, delivering me again and again to a world - a universe - of sexual heights I'd never dreamed possible.

No! I had to stop. I was a guy. A heterosexual guy. I didn't want to get off to the idea of fucking a dude, no matter how hot they were, no matter how good they smelled, no matter how big and tasty and wonderful their thick juicy dicks were.

"Oh, fuck!" I cried, unsure if it was in frustration or passion.

It took every ounce of willpower I had to pull my hand free from the brink of that orgasm. Everything I had to stand up off my knees. I splashed more water on my face, the cold barely making an impact on the haze of estrogen sloshing through my brain demanding I get bred.

No.

I was clenching my fist so tight I thought my ruby red nails were going to draw blood. The silence of the bathroom was broken only by my ragged lusty breathing and the pounding of my heart. I took a long deep breath and tried to calm the blood pounding through my vein. I didn't care how good it felt. I wasn't about to give in to these desires.

By the time I stepped out of the bathroom my mind was as calm and as focused as I could make it, as little as that meant. I could do this. I just had to get through the rest of the day, then the genie would fix this and I'd never have to worry about wanting to get fucked or finding the idea of a man's throbbing cock delicious ever again.

I shook my head. I just had to avoid getting turned on for the rest of the day. I just had to avoid these stupid slutty fantasies.

How hard could that be?

The bell rang, and with it, a chorus of orgasmic cries.

To be continued.