by Rick K. Reut
Then all of a sudden, It stopped and uttered several loud moans, shuddering with Its whole body wrapped around the weird-looking apparatus. When Director Downing finally pulled Its penis out of the doll’s anus, its head looked like a pink cream cake dripping with freshly squeezed sperm juice.
“Now it’s your turn,” said Director Downing, stepping aside and allowing Adam to approach. “Go ahead, give it a try,” It added, nudging him forward.
And he did it, rather reluctantly at first, but then developed a taste for it and eventually spent half the night playing one sex-ball game after another. Having given him all the necessary instructions about when he was supposed to be up for his first seminar the following day, the Director left him alone.
“And don’t worry. There isn’t that much you’ll have to do there except be yourself. I know it isn’t that easy in an utterly unfamiliar environment, but I assure you that there’s no way you can possibly make a mistake. Unless, of course, you suddenly turn violent on us. However, if there was even a slight chance of something like that happening, we would never have selected you in the first place. So, simply stay as calm as you can. But even if you can’t, it won’t be a problem either, since almost everyone around here has already been informed that you come from a world where being nervous is a norm. It’s all due to your incorrect conditioning, and consequently none of it is your fault. Use the sex-ball machine if you can’t sleep. It’ll help you relax. Release of sexual energy almost always does. And again, don’t worry, Its Freudship and I will be watching you all the time tomorrow. As for tonight, I’ll be staying right in the room next door. So, if you need anything, anything at all,” the Director added, with a welcoming wink, “just give me a call. And now, good night and nice, and what is most important, easily realizable wet dreams to you. Or, as we are accustomed to saying, don’t let your pipe dreams be drained and your wet dreams run dry.”
Chapter Fourteen
The first seminar featuring Adam Marx as the main exhibit – “…a Straight Man Straight From the Isle of Man…” as an ad on the campus central three-dimensional bulletin board announced both visually and audibly – was due to begin at two p.m.
The Director woke Adam at noon and, after breakfast and a brief sexual intercourse, took him to the hotel’s rooftop, where Controller Globe was already waiting for their arrival. After exchanging quick penis shakes, the threesome took their seats in the cockpit of a newly served trans-copter and took off.
Starting with the takeoff and then all the way of the fourteen-minute-long flight – for they took their time, wishing to show their subject some sights of the Mainland – to Cambridge Adam could barely take his eyes off the Controller, whom he clearly considered the main sight, and whom he still hadn’t had sex with, though, no doubt, wanted to more than anything else in the New World State. And yet Controller Globe wasn’t in a hurry to satisfy this desire of his. It had some far-going plans for him, and the success of those plans lay precisely in keeping him out of reach.
They arrived in Cambridge at a quarter to two. After circling around what had once been a small academic town, then transformed into one of the largest conditioning centers in England, their T-plane landed on the roof of a recently erected edifice of Unisex University. The University was an integral part of the New Word State’s Unified Education System that included every learning institution on the planet and conformed to one universal curriculum.
In the meantime, most of the extra-curriculum classes were just about to commence. The campus was literally swarming with young she-male students dressed in their official pink-blue uniform. Some of the students were playing an advanced version of the tranny train by a copse of tall tulip trees, while shooting the process with their trans-phone cameras.
Having stopped for a second on the rooftop’s rim to take a better look at what was going down on the gambling-green lawns below, before descending to the designated auditorium, Adam felt totally out of touch with progress. The students playing all types of explicit sex games twenty stories beneath him seemed absolutely oblivious of his presence. Despite knowing that there was going to be an extra-curricular class this afternoon, only few of them had any idea what it was about. And hardly anyone at all, except the current European Continent Controller and the Conditioning Center’s Director, could comprehend its importance completely.
“It is time,” said the Director, touching his shoulder. “Let’s not keep the Controller waiting for too long, shall we?”
The word “Controller” had an almost supernatural effect on Adam. He could virtually feel his brain being electrocuted every time it was spoken.
“Of course not!” said he, turning away from the roof’s edge to enter the expectantly empty elevator.
The double door of the lecture theater they descended to was located on the fourteenth floor of the edifice and eased open automatically as soon as they approached it. The Controller and the Director, timidly tailed by Adam, walked into what turned out to be the largest lecture hall in the whole building, containing about a thousand seats, most of which had already been taken.
Such a spacious classroom had been chosen by the Controller on purpose – to accommodate as many students as possible. In the trans-human society ruled by pure reason, education was considered to be one of the top priorities and, as such, a primary part of the subsequent stages of conditioning. It was used mainly to instill the correct kind of ideology, i.e. the one that would safeguard young she-male minds from the harmful human habit of too much thinking.
Although the poisonous prejudice of essential sex and gender division had been eradicated around eight decades earlier as one of the main sources of all social evil and injustice, it was important to keep everyone aware of this evil still living on Isolated Islands in shape of pre-transsexual men and women. But mostly men, of course, for the failure of all patriarchal societies to live in peace and harmony with the world, instead of continuously slipping into the chasm of war, disorder and destruction, was definitely the fault of human males, Gianna Globe pondered angrily as It approached the pulpit, preparing to take the class under control.
The Controller’s anger wasn’t aimed at the students of course, even though the majority of them were indeed misbehaving in the presence of a higher authority. This lack of discipline, however, could be easily explained and justified by a mild chemical imbalance, quite natural for their young hyperactive age that demanded constant copulation to cool it off.
And so, that was exactly what they were doing – copulating right on the classroom desks surrounding the speaker’s stage in a semicircle. Still, this was no problem at all in itself. On the contrary, it was the most cardinal social virtue they – about six or seven hundred young trannies – were now performing, for the hour between one and two in the afternoon was marked as official Trans Time in all of the New World State’s Universities. The only problem was that the time was swiftly running out, whereas the orgy gave absolutely no sign of coming to an end.
Absolutely oblivious of either the Controller’s or the Director’s presence, let alone that of Adam, who was watching the whole thing with an open mouth and an uncontrollable hard-on, the students were wrapped into one giant fuck-ball of flesh. It was like an independent entity, a dream world of pure pleasure existing on the edges of physical reality and obeying its own supernatural laws. Having emerged from one enormous energetic mass of pulsating protoplasm, swelling and shrinking, rising and falling to pieces of raw matter, like waves on the surface of a stormy sea, it knew neither a shore nor a bottom, except the thousand bare bulging buttocks, breasts and cocks it consisted of.
“It certainly doesn’t look like it will end within the following half an hour or so,” commented the Director, surveying the spectacle with a shrewd smile. “So maybe we should simply suspend the seminar and join them for the time being?”
“And ruin the rest of the self-restraint they may still have in them?” Controller Globe gave the Director a long surprised look. “Don’t
be ridiculous, Darlina. You know as well as I do that civilizations rest mainly on the conscious ability to tell the time of work from the time of leisure and make a wise choice between the two at any given moment of that time. And this one is exactly the moment they must choose work. So be so kind as to direct them to it and, while I am conducting the class, find out the name and the trans-phone number of the chief conditioner responsible for the rearing of this particular set of students. I want a word with this person as soon as possible.”
“Certainly, Controller,” conceded Director Downing, stepping forward, but then stopping in indecision.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Darlina?” demanded the Controller Globe, seeing the Director’s doubt.
“But, Your Freudship, how am I supposed to direct them when they are so… so absorbed?” wondered Director Downing, apprehensively. “After all, there’s hardly anything more damaging to human psychological as well as physical state than an interrupted sexual intercourse?”
“And what makes you think that I’m asking you to interrupt it?” hissed Controller Globe, annoyed by the delay, “I just want you to tell them to hurry up, that’s all. But you know what, I think I can tell them that myself. Just switch on the microphone and move on to the rector’s office.”
“Certainly, Controller,” Director Downing complied, pressing a button on the lectern’s top, which resulted in an instant production of a T-shaped microphone out of its plastic depths. As soon as it happened, the lectern too transformed into a “T”, as its top split into two even parts and spread sideways to form a sort of a tall one-legged T-shaped table.
“Thank you, Darlina,” the Controller’s lips spread in a smile almost as wide as the lectern’s transformed top.
“You’re always welcome, Controller,” said the Director, before disappearing in the doorway.
Its Freudship escorted Director Downing out with Its long-lashed eyes alone and then threw a fleeting glance at Adam who looked totally transfixed by the sight of the shagging she-males. Seeing his open-mouthed, child-like amazement, Controller Globe couldn’t help grinning good-humoredly. But only for a second, after which, adopting one of Its most adamant expressions and augmenting the microphone’s volume, the Controller addressed the copulating crowd.
“May I have a minute of your attention, please,” It deluged the classroom with Its deep, dolby-surrounding voice.
Around a thousand transsexual heads – for they hadn’t ceased coming in course of the Controller’s conversation with the Director – turned towards the source of the voice. It took their relaxed minds some time to swim out of the orgiastic oblivion that covered them like a thick cloud of steam, before they could realize what was going on. It was the Controller’s soot-black business suit, which no one else was allowed to wear in public, that helped them regain their focus. In a minute, all the eyes were fixed on the tall massive figure standing in solemn silence in the center of the stage.
“That’s better,” said the surrounding voice, magnified by a bunch of loudspeakers concealed in the corners of the classroom. “And now I must inform you that you have exactly eight and a half minutes to finish what you have started, after which your extra-curriculum class of illustrative biology is bound to begin. Those who fail to take their respective seats on the set time, which is two o’clock in the afternoon sharp, will be duly punished with deprivation of all possible sexual activity for at least a fortnight.”
Right after these word of warning, there was a whole landslide of echoing cries coming from the deeply disturbed class:
“What did It just say? A Ford night?”
“No, a fortnight?!”
“It’s like two whole weeks, isn’t it?!”
“It is indeed.”
“Then it must be a joke or something.”
“You mean to say, no sexual activity at all?!”
“Exactly,” confirmed the Controller. “So, I suggest that you do hurry up with your ejaculations.”
And so hurry up they did. The Controller, majestic as always, had only managed to step off the stand and take a seat at the writing table beside Adam, who was watching It worshipfully, when at least half the audience had already shot huge loads of sperm onto the faces, bottoms and breasts of their neighbors and were rather soon shot in return. After the shootout, the students hastily wiped themselves up with already prepared paper towels and began to get dressed, trying to take their places on the relentlessly flying time.
“I must warn you, Mister Marx,” said Controller Globe, still watching the wrapping up of the students’ orgy. “There may be many things mentioned in course of this class concerning your sex and, perhaps, even you personally, which will not sound too complimentary. In fact, they might sound downright discourteous, degrading and even insulting. It is these potentially unpleasant references (which I assure you, bear no relation to you in particular, but to human males in general) that I must sincerely apologize for in advance. I must also ask you to try to abide these references with what in pre-transsexual ages used to be called courage, honor and steadfastness, for the success of the whole enterprise depends on how you will perform during these tough and trying times.”
“And don’t worry,” Its Freudship added quickly, “I won’t let this flagellation go too far. But you must still prepare for the worst and, when this class does start, see it as a training session that should make you strong enough for your final test at the hands of the current Controller’s Council. Remember that it’s not only your destiny, but the destiny of the whole mankind that will be decided only a fortnight from now.”
“And now,” the Controller checked its T-phone touchscreen, “it’s time.”
Chapter Fifteen
Exactly fifteen minutes and fifteen seconds after Its Freudship’s arrival, the orgy was over and all of the students dressed and seated at their desks. Some of them had already caught sight of Adam – that curiously dwarfed, human-shaped creature by the Controller’s side – and were whispering to each other while pointing fingers at the primeval monster with evidence of facial hair and, no doubt, an equally hirsute, chimney-flat chest and potbelly on top of a terrifyingly narrow pelvis concealed by the creature’s old-fashioned clothes.
Adam saw it and felt insanely uncomfortable, squirming in his sweat-soaked seat like an electric eel on a frying pan. The palms of his petit feminine hands were also starting to perspire, as he sensed the first drop of freshly squeezed armpit sap slip onto his shirt. He shivered, hearing his heart race faster than a rudderless subway train, rushing high-pressured blood along the veins of his wet writhing body.
Meanwhile, the Controller stood up and, appraisingly eyeing the audience, approached the lectern. It stood at it for some time in that slightly tense silence that precedes long speeches before large crowds, accumulating attention. Under the Controller’s inquisitive stare, the sneers slightly died down. But not entirely: sporadic bursts of uncontrollable sniggering could still be heard like toy gun shots on the battlefield of suppressed emotions.
Eventually the Controller spoke, slowly and solemnly, – the same way It had entered the lecture hall and would sooner or later leave it.
“Greetings, young trannies! Please, allow me to introduce myself to those of you who might not know me. Even though, as good and, hopefully, correctly conditioned citizens of the New World State, you’re supposed to have already been acquainted with the names and appearances of all the ten current Chief Caretaking Continent Controllers as part of your elementary politics course. I, as many of you may have guessed, am one of them. Namely, Chief Caretaking Continent Controller for Europe, Gianna Globe. And today, I’m going to conduct a class called “Introduction to Atavistic Anatomy”.
“But before we begin,” continued the Controller, “I’d like to say a few words about what we’re going to do here today. First of all, I must assume that most of you have probably seen such popular educational TS TV programs as “Monsters of Mankind”, “Creepy Creatures”, and, a more or less sci
entific one, “Humans as They Once Were” on our satellite Animal and Discovery Channels as well as the New World State Net. If you have, you should know that, just like the humans of the prehistoric ages, who were actually primitive tree-climbing apes with hair on their backs and buttocks before they evolved into the ancient and then modern humans of the pre-transsexual ages, the humans of the pre-transsexual ages used to have two sexes.”
Unlike the fresh-trans at the Conditioning Center, the sophomores the class was conducted for, received this information with remarkable indifference.
“That was before they, with the assistance of biotechnology, evolved into us, trans-humans or trans-sexuals,” the Controller carried on, checking the class’s reaction, as It approached another revolutionary revelation. “What many of you may not know, however,” It continued, trying to soften the explosive effect of what was about to be said with obfuscating wordiness, “is that these poor atavistic pre-transsexuals, who, due to their incorrect conditioning are doomed to remain despondent for the rest of their natural lives, unless we, as civilized people, reveal our most humane qualities and help them, still live among us.”
As soon as Its Freudship said this, there was a short spell of shell-shocked silence. And then all of a sudden, all hell began to break loose, turning the place upside down into a spitting image of Pandemonium from Paradise Lost. Pretty soon the screams and shouts spread all the way to the stage, surging through the audience like a stone thrown into a sea surges across its surface with ripples and rapidly rolling waves.
“Calm down, calm down!” cried Controller Globe, raising the volume of Its voice via the loudspeakers. “When I said that they lived among us, I didn’t mean in our society or even on the Mainland!”
But Its words were drowned out by the billowing waves of noise.