by Louisa Bacio
The representative helping her could only be described as Surfer Boy gorgeous. As if he sensed her hesitations, he smiled at Mandi. Wavy blonde hair curled around his ears, and blue eyes that sparkled like the moon on tropical ocean water peeked out from behind long bangs. Stark white teeth contrasted against his tan skin. His nametag read Blaine. Mandi had heard of dance clubs where “only the beautiful people were allowed.” That rang true here. Not only were the applicants screened for their mental state but also for their physical characteristics.
Physical beauty and, even more importantly, a glamorous inner charm blessed Mandi since her youth. At five feet, seven inches, she could have starred in ZZ Top’s “Legs” video, because she was all leg. She possessed long, sculpted ones with calf muscles toned from modern dance. She’d come to love dance classes when she was in high school, and she had continued with the training throughout college. She wore a black mini skirt with a slit that flared over her full hips, accenting her dancer’s ass. Not too big, but definitely woman enough. She’d spent extra time getting ready that morning, and her black hair hung in thick ringlets down past her breasts. She tucked a handful behind her ear, and looked at Blaine with her dark green eyes. Today, her eyes reflected her military brat tank top. If she wore blue, they would pick up that color. The only time her eyes changed on their own was when she was angry. Then, she’d been told a few times, they flashed gray.
The metallic pen rested heavy and solid between her fingers, and she signed her summer away. White marble tile covered the foyer, and plush burgundy carpet started in the hallways. The school grounds lay beyond closed doors. Although she’d been through the interview process, Mandi hadn’t seen what lay beyond those locked doors. No one did until the first day. She wondered what mysteries and adventures lay ahead. Once she entered through those doors, there was no leaving for the three months of summer. Her friends and family thought she was backpacking abroad. If they only knew.
“Well, it seems as if all your paperwork is in order,” Blaine said. “Are you ready to start your instruction at Sex U Ms. Wilkinson?”
Mandi took a deep breath. She couldn’t change her mind now, could she? “I’m as ready as I ever will be.”
“If you’ll follow me then,” he said directing with his hand. “This way to the antechamber.”
For someone who looked so laidback, Blaine spoke eloquently, almost like an English butler. Rather than leading her forward, through those locked doors, Blaine strolled toward a side door. Amanda picked up her valise and followed him, watching the muscles of his tight butt clench inside his khaki shorts.
The door opened into an immense room, filled with many other doors.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take that,” Blaine said as he grabbed her bag. “No personal items are allowed in the university.”
“But my clothes …”
“Everything you need will be provided.”
“I have a journal and pen in there that I would like.”
“I’m sorry, but nothing is allowed in. Anything can be used to masturbate with, and at SFSU, that is not permitted. Our inspectors will look through your bag and if there is anything they deem fit for entrance, it will be delivered to your cabin. Now, if you would,” Blaine said as he gestured her into room 27. Mandi looked longingly at her bag as Blaine placed it on a rolling rack outside the room. Inside, she knew, was her favorite soft lavender socks, a book of inspirational quotes and the chai spice tea she enjoyed savoring in the morning. She had to give up everything.
She was to remove all of her clothes and place them into a hamper.
“Sit tight until you hear the bell ring, then go through the second door and your lessons will begin.”
Amanda slid into the dressing room. She’d been there less than 15 minutes and already she was starting to feel nervous. How would she survive the summer, let alone the rest of the day? No luggage, and now she had to strip naked. She didn’t remember reading about this in the school catalog. She pulled off her skirt, slid her black lace G-strings over the rounded curve of her butt, and placed them on top of her skirt. Then came her tank top and matching green bra. What’s the use of packing all these sexy undergarments if she wasn’t going to be able to wear them? Once finished, she looked around for the hamper that Blaine talked about. She found a laundry bag marked 27, and a chute in the wall. She pulled the handle and looked down. From the looks of things, she wouldn’t be getting these clothes back any time soon. The room held one small bench with a green cushion. She might as well sit down while she waited.
She crossed her arms over her erect nipples. Since it wasn’t cold, it must be the anticipation, she thought. Her nervousness dispersed. Instead, excitement replaced it. Moistness dampened the silky hair between her legs. This was going to be good.
A bell disrupted her thoughts. It was time. Amanda opened the door, ready to take on whatever came next, and walked into a room full of other people.
Correction: other naked people.
Men and women burst out of the rooms like horses at a race, only to find themselves reined in. A petite blonde girl stood next to her, looking even more timid than Amanda felt. A tall, dark-haired man with stark almond-colored skin could be seen towering above the others on the other side of the room. A small Asian woman turned in circles, as if searching for a familiar face. And then the whistle shrilled. The sea of bare butts parted to reveal a mammoth woman with striking red hair; beside her stood another man who looked to be Blaine’s twin.
“All right everybody, that’s enough. You’ll have plenty of time to gawk at each other,” she said. “It’s time to get the first lesson started. I am Lucille, and what I say, you do.
“Now, everyone get into formation. Ten lines of five. Right now. On the double.”
Amanda fell into line. The pale blonde woman stepped in front of her. As easily as elementary school children, they lined up equally spaced apart, shoulders back, chests out and faces forward. Amanda stole a glance to her right, and then to her left. Some men could obviously not hide their excitement, and a particular dark-skinned man to the left of her looked to have something to be excited about. Others were clearly intimidated by the situation and were not rising to the occasion.
The last guy in the line to the right of her seemed to be crowding the guy in front of him. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. There were six in that row. Try as he might, he couldn’t line up.
“You there,” the Lucy Amazon said, getting down off her box. “Can’t you count? Do you plan on flunking out on your first day? In your first hour?”
The woman strutted down the aisle, all the more noticeable in her clothes. It wasn’t merely the fact that she was wearing something alluring; it was the fact that she was wearing something in this room filled with stripped-down bodies. Black four-inch thigh-high boots made her even taller. Purposeful, the floor vibrated with the pulse of her every step. Amanda caught a glimmer of musky vanilla perfume as the woman passed her.
Before she saw it, Amanda heard the smack of leather hitting bare flesh. The man yelped in surprise.
“Everyone remain facing forward,” Lucy said. “What is your name?”
“Raul.”
“Raul, what?”
“Raul Montgomery.”
Smack.
“No, Raul, Ma’am,” she corrected him.
From the corner of eye, Mandi soaked in the scene. Raul looked to be of Hispanic and European dissent, perhaps German. He wasn’t very tall. In fact, he was not much taller than Amanda. Smooth light brown skin tapered over his chiseled chest. He fought to keep his machismo, tears threatened to escape from behind his long black eyelashes.
“Raul, Ma’am.”
“And I thought I said to get into lines of five.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Five”
“And how many are in your line here? Count them.”
Raul leaned his head out. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five.” His eyes grew wider at “Six.”
“And that’s exactly
how many strikes you will get with my lash. Place your hands on the student in front of you, steady yourself, and lean over.”
And then the spanking began. With every strike, Amanda could feel her own checks grow hotter; her face flushed with embarrassment. She could never take being humiliated, being spanked, in front of an entire class, or in back of the class for that matter. By the fourth smack, Raul whimpered and on the sixth, he wailed: Machismo gone.
“Now go get in that line down there that only has four students in it. And next time, count, don’t follow.”
With that, Lucy walked back up to the front of the classroom. It was time to go over the rules of the school. Amanda had read some of them before entering the university, others were new.
“There are 50 students in this class. About half of you will graduate,” Lucy said. “Ten of you will not make it through the first week. Take a look at your neighbor. They might not be here next week. Only the strong and the dedicated will survive. And, those who can follow orders. Right, Raul?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” rang out from the corner of the room.
This time, the Blaine-double spoke.
“My name is Wayne, and by now most of you have met my brother Blaine. There are certain rules that you must follow when you are at Sex U, and if you do not, there will be consequences.”
“First of all, no fraternization amongst the students unless otherwise instructed.”
Lucy emphasized the point, “That means no fucking amongst yourselves. If we want you to fuck—we’ll tell you. And only when we tell you.”
“Yes, right,” Wayne continued. “If you are caught ‘fucking’ another student, then you will be punished. At worst, you will be expelled. There’s no masturbation. At Sex U, you are allowed to orgasm only when we tell you.”
What was this? Amanda thought. She had come to Sex U, well, in order to come. Not to be made to hold it in until someone else deemed fit.
“No fucking yourself, in other words,” Lucy chimed in. “No vibrators, no dildos, no pens, and ladies—no shower heads. Someone will run your baths while you are here. No slipping the pussy beneath the faucet unless otherwise directed.”
“Exactly,” Wayne agreed. “When an instructor tells you to do something, you will do it. Is that understood?”
Mumbled “yeses” spread through the room.
“Is that understood?” Lucy asked louder.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Lucy reached behind her and pulled on a chord. A bell chimed, and another door opened.
******
Reed McAllister came to San Francisco Sex University for reasons all his own. He was looking for a woman, the right woman, and so far, he didn’t have any leads. He never expected to work at a place such as SFSU, let alone instruct, but he had to admit it—the job did come with some perks.
Reed stood with the rest of the staff outside the main orientation room. Once the orientation completed, it would be up to the staff to round up the new cadets and escort them to their bunks. Then came the interviews, initiations and training. Each candidate had filled out detailed applications with their likes and dislikes, plus the school had done a bit of independent research, a little digging up of dirt. Yet, it would be up to Reed and the other instructors to probe a bit deeper, figure out what made each person tick and, in some cases, what would make them break.
He fiddled with the waistband of his fitted black pants, and once again wished for the comfort of a pair of well-worn jeans. After his stint at the school finished, he’d burn these pants and their clones. The thought of his personal Sex U bonfire made Reed grin.
Jules, a personal trainer who primarily worked on the men’s endurance, caught his expression. “Thinking of all that new flesh waiting?” she asked.
He’d been privy to more than a few sexual encounters with Jules. Her full lips played havoc with a man’s cock, and she loved to tease the cadets hard and keep them hard.
Reed pushed away his thoughts and focused on Jules. “Sure, the first day’s always enlightening.” It wasn’t the new candidates that held Reed’s interest. Rather, those that had come and gone.
As he walked into the room, Reed glanced over the lines of waiting students. Every class brought more of the same—tight, toned bodies. A plethora of nationalities—kinky showed no boundaries. Pretty faces blended into pretty faces. Most expressions reflected fear, a few already possessed a glassed-over look, as if they were already distancing themselves from the events taking place. They wouldn’t last, Reed thought. And then, he noticed her.
Something about the woman toward the end of the third row stood out. Perhaps, it was her unabashed interest and direct eye contact as he passed. Most students looked down, afraid to meet his gaze. She took it on directly.
He lined up with the other instructors. Reed looked at her a bit more directly, what was it? Average height and build, she stood out from the others. Long curls hung over her shoulders, the hair playing peek-a-boo with her nipples. She held herself with confidence. Her demeanor, Reed thought. She’s different.
Oh, yes. The job definitely came with perks. Over the next few weeks, Reed would make sure that he had this little lady.
Once the staff fell into place, Lucy garnered the attention of her captive audience. “Now, I’d like you to meet some more of the staff.” With their black slacks and white shirts, the eight instructors looked like they could be maître d’s, but highly polished ones.
“Over the next few months, you’ll be getting to know the staff very, very well,” Lucy said with a slight smile that even Mandi could see from a distance.
*****
About the Author
A Southern California native, Louisa Bacio can’t imagine living far away from the ocean. The multi-published author of erotic romance enjoys writing within all realms—from short stories to full-length novels.
Bacio shares her household with a supportive husband, two daughters growing “too fast,” and a multitude pet craziness: Two dogs, five fish tanks, an aviary, hamsters, rabbits and hermit crabs. In her other life, she teaches college classes in English, journalism and popular culture.
Visit her online at www.LouisaBacio.com, www.Facebook.com/LouisaBacio and www.Twitter.com/LouisaBacio.
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