I turned back to the auditorium doors and pushed one open a crack. I comforted myself with the thought that, if nothing else, I might learn what this school was all about.
A few of the other women turned to look at me as I entered. I lowered my head and took the seat nearest the back exit, ashamed for being late even though I wasn’t even supposed to be there.
Sitting down was near orgasmic.
I leaned back, relaxing all my muscles.
“Women have a naturally submissive need for men.”
I jerked my head up, staring around the auditorium. My gaze landed on the front stage and the man standing there. Even in my current state, he was so fine he took my breath away. His hair was black as night, while his skin gleamed gold like the sun. His broad shoulders and muscular frame gave him a raw beauty, like a wild and untamed animal. I was drawn to him, unable to look away despite my distant position.
This man must have been the Zion Carly referred to. Judging that the school bore his name, he must have been its head and founder.
I leaned forward to listen.
Zion placed his hands on the podium in front of him, big hands with long, strong fingers. “In this age, society has progressed so far that people forget the natural order of things. They have forgotten the proper place for women. That place is submissive to men. It is an innate, instinctual part of them. A woman’s body is designed for sex, designed to receive a man’s hard cock in not just her pussy but her ass and mouth as well. Do not let the words of others deceive you into believing otherwise. Accepting this fact is vital. All women are intended by nature’s design to be sluts and to do whatever men desire.”
My jaw dropped lower and lower as he went on. He spoke in such a cultured and refined manner, every word delivered in a mesmerizing way. If not for the content of his speech, I would have already been applauding him.
None of the others in the audience found him as outrageous as I did. A few were even taking notes, scribbling furiously.
I’d do the same for my paper if I had anything with me.
“The clitoris has no purpose other than to allow a woman to feel pleasure,” Zion said in his deep voice. “A woman’s breasts are worshipped as a sign of fertility the world over. Her hips entice men to breed children with her. In fact, every part of a woman’s body is designed to entice men. For what? As I have stated before, the answer is sex,” he paused, sweeping his gaze across his captive audience; unfortunately, that also included me.
“Men, too, have roles that nature designed for them. By way of power above any of our comprehensions, man is made to be excited at the sight of women. This all means that women have a duty to be sexual and sensual creatures. By embracing a sexually liberated nature, a woman frees herself from the other restraints of society. Sluthood is freedom.” He balled his hand into a fist and thumped it on the podium. “Let me repeat. Sluthood is freedom. By the end of your time here, you will know this freedom and embrace it with your mind, body, and soul. Welcome to my school.”
Zion ended his speech, but with a powerful impact that made the other women in the audience screech and applaud. I was torn between giving in to peer pressure and refusing, which would make me stand out. Every part of me was torn, not just my mind. This weird man had moved me with his words and the conviction in which he spoke them. But what he said was wrong!
But was it wrong? Here on this island, everyone seemed to think it was right. I was so confused. My hands lifted of their own accord and patted together a few times in a flimsy façade of clapping.
Zion turned to leave the stage. Like he was a famous musician, the attendees closest to him rushed forward and blocked his exit. He remained aloof, as though his face was a mask, not even allowing a smile or a furrowed brow to wrinkle the smoothness of its surface.
Some of the other women in the audience appeared to remain in their chairs only because they’d swooned. They might think I was like them as if I could ever be counted amongst their number.
Never.
I would never allow myself to get caught up in what was happening here, no matter how handsome Zion was, and no matter how his speech made my heart pound. He had illustrated very clearly just now why the society here was the way it was.
It was an equality issue, and that issue stemmed from sex. Women were seen as inferior, meant only for the pleasure of others. That didn’t fit with what Alora told me, but she wouldn’t say it that way. As educated as she was, she was too deep in her own “sluthood” to see what that really meant.
But I saw it. And I would never, ever let it change me.
Chapter 10
Wet and messy
“Oh, Zion, I’m going to be the greatest student this school has ever seen! No, wait! The best slut the world has ever seen! Just you wait and see!”
I snapped my head up, my attention drawn again to the front of the stage by one of the girls blocking his exit. She positioned herself directly in front of him, her hands on her hips. She threw a dark look around at the other girls, daring them to defy her claim. The others returned her rotten eyes with their own, unperturbed.
I shrank back in my seat, my heart pounding. I hoped a fight wouldn’t break out.
Zion stared calmly at the woman in front of him, still entirely unaffected by anything going on around him. When she felt his gaze, she turned and looked up at him with utter adoration. She was caught in his sensual web . . . The same web I might get stuck in if I wasn’t careful. The man was so intricately beautiful, it was hard to think when looking at him.
“What’s your name?” Zion asked the unabashed girl. His words were rich even when he wasn’t projecting them into a powerful speech, a caress for the senses.
“Stephania,” the woman answered, breathless. Her hands dropped from her hips. She sidled even closer to him like a puppy begging for attention, so docile compared to before.
“Well, Stephania, that is a very bold statement. You’ll need to back that claim up. How will you do that?” The intonation of Zion’s voice didn’t change but it was a clear challenge.
I leaned forward, expecting what would happen at any other school when a professor called out a student. Stephania would recite a long list of why she could be the best slut, detailing incidents no one ever needed to know. Zion would nod his head and interject obligingly where appropriate before sending her back to her seat. No ground gained; no ground lost.
Instead of saying anything, Stephania dropped to her knees. She leaned to Zion and unzipped his pants, as naturally as she might do to a boyfriend in the privacy of her bedroom. She wore a dress so short that when she leaned forward, everything was on display. No panties, because of course, she wouldn’t be wearing them.
I gasped aloud and put my hand over my mouth, unable to believe what I was seeing. Stephania reached into Zion’s pants and brought out his member, and I had to gasp again because it was so much bigger than I thought any man’s could be.
For the first time, I wasn’t the only one shocked. The other girls in the audience were also gasping and exclaiming—except for an entirely different reason.
“Damn! That monster would tear my pussy apart!”
“Has that thing ever fit inside a pussy?”
“I could handle every inch!” someone claimed loudly.
Someone else murmured, “Lucky girl. I wish I thought of doing that.”
I put one hand to the side of my head. I wanted to smack myself, pinch myself, anything to wake up from this absurd dream. Was this a prank? If I looked closely, would I be able to find hidden cameras recording my reactions?
Stephania ignored the chatter going on around her. Entirely absorbed in her actions, she proceeded to take Zion’s member deep into her mouth. She clearly had tons of experience in such matters. She had no difficulty in working with him, despite how massive he was.
There was almost something erotic about the suddenness of it. My cheeks burned with shame to even think like that, but it was true. Stephania must really have been
feeling something intense to give in to her basest desires like this in front of everyone.
“Impressive,” Zion commented, ever unbothered even though one of his students was attacking him with her mouth. “But can you deepthroat me? That is the highest accomplishment of any cocksucker.”
Stephania didn’t pause for a second. She took up the challenge in an instant, tilting her head back and using her hands to guide his length deeper and deeper. She had no gag reflex, clearly.
But even she, a clear expert, couldn’t take all that Zion had on offer. Several inches of his girth remained outside as she bobbed her head on him. Her hands stayed busy, performing tricks that would make a porn star want to ask for lessons.
It was so disgustingly impressive how much that other woman could take into her mouth and throat, and still have the mental power to pay attention to the rest of him.
Zion remained stoic above her; his face placid but his eyes burning with judgment.
Stephania upped her game, moving faster and faster.
Zion put his hand on her head and forced her off him. His gaze turned bored. I had to gasp again because he was unaffected by the blowjob he just received. He wasn’t hard. Not at all. I was astonished to my core. Even I had been affected just by watching. How could he not be, having felt it?
“That was good,” he declared. “But there is a lot of room for improvement. It seems you have yet to grasp the true meaning of the speech I gave. However, you have initiative. If you study hard, you will make a great slut indeed.”
Stephania’s emotions ran across her face for all to see, from joy to disappointment and back to joy again during her critique.
Zion retrieved a handkerchief from his back pocket and used it to wipe himself off. He folded the dainty square and put it back in his pocket, then zipped himself back into his hands. He turned back to the auditorium at large, the girl at his feet seemingly forgotten. “I regret to inform you all that I will not be staying for the rest of the day’s activities. I assure you that you are in great hands with the professors and staff.”
Then, he walked away without a single look back. The cluster of girls who had previously blocked his passage parted like a biblical sea to let him through.
Suddenly, another man appeared on the stage. He smiled broadly while approaching Stephania. He held out his hand to her. Stephania lifted her head and gave him a once-over with her eyes before allowing herself to be helped to her feet. She must have found him wanting as she didn’t try to have sex with him, for which I was grateful.
He wasn’t a bad-looking man, though. He was middle-aged, with salt-and-pepper hair, but muscular.
The man said something to Stephania that I couldn’t hear, then gave her a little smack on her rump. She jumped and then rushed, giggling, back through the auditorium to take her seat.
“If the rest of you could find your seats as well . . .” he spoke louder, sending a significant look at the other young women. They rushed to obey him. There was a difference in the way they behaved around him versus how they reacted to Zion. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it was that they had treated Zion like an idol, a celebrity, while they responded to this man with the timeliness of students ordered around by a professor.
When everyone had taken up their seats again, the man cleared his throat. “Hello, everyone. It’s an honor to occupy this spot where the great Zion stood so recently. I am Mr. Midge. I am the professor of Masturbation 101 this year. As this will be my first year teaching here, I’ll be learning along with the rest of you. I can’t wait to get to know each and every one of you.”
I shrank down in my seat, trying to hide as Mr. Midge swept the audience with his friendly gaze. I didn’t think I wanted to get to know him.
“My purpose for teaching here is to fuel self-discovery. Only through knowing your own body will you be able to reach the peak of sexual gratification. After all, if you don’t know how to make yourself feel good, how can you expect to do the same for anyone else? And that is the ultimate goal here. To make your partner, or partners, feel the best they possibly can.” Mr. Midge gave an affable smile and a shrug. “That’s it for me. What I teach is better felt than talked about. I hope we make some great memories together.”
There were cheers and applause as he finished. I didn’t join in this time. Masturbation was such a private act. How could he hope to teach a class about it?
Mr. Midge stepped down from the stage to be replaced by, much to my astonishment, a woman. She was Italian, by the looks of her, and only a little older than me. She broke into a sunny smile and waved at us in the auditorium.
“I’m Ms. Aurora. I have been a teacher here since my own graduation. If you have signed up for my classes, you will learn how to indulge in some of your wildest fantasies. They are, admittedly, common fantasies, but they are that way for a reason! I’m talking about anal, my dears. Anal and bondage.”
I shook my head and tuned out the rest of her speech. No. Absolutely not. I wouldn’t let her influence my thoughts with the chipper way she discussed fetishes. Normal sex in public was bad enough but taboo things like anal? And being tied up, forced to endure whatever the captor might desire?
Simply no.
After Ms. Aurora came a startlingly beautiful black man. Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones proudly proclaimed that he had thirteen children with five different women and that he would gladly teach us everything we needed to know about pregnancy and fertility.
“After all,” he winked, “with all the sex we’ll be having, it’s good to be prepared!”
Does no one use protection? I wanted to scream at how backward it all was.
I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t bear to listen to another word. I forced myself not to listen, let the words slide in one ear and out the other without giving them time to settle in my mind, and pollute my mind. More professors came and still, I ignored them. I refused to even look up, staring resolutely at the back of the seat in front of mine. I didn’t want to know who was talking or what they looked like. Even knowing who was male and who was female was bad enough.
My mind wandered, aimless, frantic, desperate for other things to distract me.
It was only natural that my thoughts led me back to Zion. I tried to brush past him but he stayed in my head, unwelcome. Or was it the other way around? He wasn’t stuck in me. I was stuck in him. Snared.
What was it about him that had such pull?
Unbidden, I wondered what it would be like to have been in Stephania’s position. Could I have done better than her?
No way, I scolded myself. I didn’t do dirty things like that.
But what if I did?
What if I was forced to? No one here had any sense of personal space. Someone could grab me and force me to act out their fantasies at a moment’s notice.
I could almost feel fingers tangling in my hair and hips thrusting at my face, and could almost hear the deep grunts of a man as he pleasured himself on me.
I would have to swallow . . .
“No,” I moaned, leaning over and putting my face in my hands.
No one seemed to have heard me. Or they mistook my moan for something dirtier than it really was.
The last professor left the stage and a curvy woman stepped up. She was familiar to me. Carly. She clasped her hands together and smiled out at all of us with something like pride.
“I’m so glad all of you are still here with us. We sometimes lose a few who find this all to be too overwhelming.”
Leaving had been an option? I hadn’t even imagined standing up and walking out. What was wrong with me? Was it too late for me? Had I already been poisoned?
“If you would like to follow me, I will lead you to the Great Hall. You’ll want to pay attention and remember how you got there because that will be where you eat your meals each day from now on. There are food and drink. Help yourselves, and have fun getting to know each other! Your professors will already be there, so introduce yourselves personally.”
Everyone got up and headed down to Carly. I got up too and trailed along at the rear of the group. Carly led us out of the auditorium and down a hall, then through an atrium where one whole wall and even the roof was the clearest glass I’d ever encountered. Nature pressed up against the window, exotic plants and flowers that must have been so painstakingly cultivated into the intricate display.
Someone nudged me in the ribs with their elbow. “Ah!” I gasped and sprang away.
The girl next to me gave me a wounded look. “Geez, you’re jumpy. I was only going to say can you believe what time it is? But whatever. I’ll talk to someone else.”
The time?
I looked up, away from the garden scape. The sun was low, almost beneath the treetops. My mouth fell open. It was almost sunset! It felt like hardly any time had passed while I sat in that auditorium listening to raunchy speeches, but in reality, it had been hours.
Maybe I was going crazy, losing my grip.
We left the atrium and to the right was a set of heavy oaken doors. I thought the Great Hall must be past them, and Carly confirmed it in the next second. She reached the doors first and held one open for us to go through.
I hesitated. “Carly?”
“Yes?”
I was the last one. This was my chance. “Is there … Is there a bathroom nearby?”
“Oh, of course.” She smiled and pointed. “Go back to where we left the atrium. Take the other hall and follow it about halfway down. You can’t miss the signs. But hurry up or you might not get much to eat! Healthy sexual appetites mean big appetites in other ways.”
“Th—thanks,” I stammered.
I followed her directions and found the bathroom quickly enough. What scared me was there was also a men’s bathroom. There were male professors and maybe staff, but were there male students?
I went to the sink and looked at myself in the reflection for what seemed like the first time in years. I cried out in dismay at the sight of myself. There were twigs and mud in my hair, and the mud had dried up into huge clumps that stuck out from my head. My clothes were torn, leaving huge gaps in places that showed off way too much skin. I was covered in green and brown stains and my face was oily from dried sweat.
Kelly Exposed Page 7