A crash course in sex ed

You left the train to reach Ms. Joke's humble apartment, with the stars now shining down upon the two of you-- it was a beautiful, starry night, the kind where the full moon and every star in the sky seemed visible. You felt as though you'd swallowed your tongue; a huge knot had lumped up in your throat when your heroic caretaker had promised to show you the ropes as it related to girls. How did ordinary people learn about this sort of thing, anyway? Maybe Emi had some kind of materials she used to teach her kids. As your eyes scanned across the dimly lit apartment complex and the teacher flipped through her key-ring, you stayed totally silent... your eyes fell upon the small, disconnected laundry room where you'd caught her masturbating earlier during her call with Aizawa. For all you knew, you'd thrown another messed-up set of commands into Emi's mind at some point and forgotten about it, one that was going to make this impromptu sex ed class profoundly inappropriate. You might have to start writing these down on a whiteboard or something...

Emi had been doing most of the talking for the two of you, even more so than usual, as you made your way home. "You look like you're afraid I'm going to slap you in cuffs or something!" the lady grinned, while pulling open the door to her apartment and stepping aside. She gestured with both arms in an unnecessary expression of "after you," then chuckled. "I'm the Smile Hero! If you wear a face like Shota's all the time, my reputation as a merry-maker's going to be ruined! Let's turn that frown upside down!" She kicked out one leg and put on an even bigger smile, encouraging you to follow suit.

Maybe she had a point... after all, there was nothing bad happening here. You were pretty sure you hadn't inflicted any hypnosis upon Emi that would make her want to teach you this stuff right now. That meant she was probably simply motivated by her concern as your caretaker, either because she thought you needed this lesson to adjust to society or because you needed it to accomplish that "satisfaction" goal that Benefactor had informed you of.

After shutting her door and locking it for the night, Emi unwound her orange bandana from her pretty green hair, then carried the cloth around one fist while making her way towards the back room. "Say, I've been wondering... I know things have been tough for you coming up, but you actually seem pretty well-adjusted. Benefactor deserves a Deadbeat Dad of the Year Award! Where'd you pick up reading and such? You seem pretty well spoken, too," she remarked with an idle coolness.

Out of respect, you didn't follow her into her room; the way she'd taken off her bandana implied she was probably changing out of her hero gear and the door closing behind her further solidified that impression.

You told her the truth: Benefactor had been a deadbeat, like she said, but when it came to grooming you to be his successor, he didn't slouch. You exercised, you received lessons from him, and, if you'd given in to his full instructions, you'd have had more servants than you could use. Basically, aside from a few necessities, he'd fully accounted for the things you needed. The other Beneficiaries weren't so lucky... they were often neglected, abused, malnourished, and, of course, deprived of free will.

Had Benefactor been qualified to be your teacher? You'd learned that he was employed by the Japan Self-Defense ****-- JSDF-- for most of his life, before returning to Japan. It made you wonder when he'd awakened to his quirk... he had been a pretty normal person for a long time. Either way, he'd always seemed a pretty competent instructor when he wanted to be. You thought you'd picked up the basics of language, mathematics, and such, but he'd kept you woefully uneducated in anything related to day to day life, probably because he didn't intend for you to ever have to maintain a job, find housing, or... earn anything, really. You were a little surprised he'd never given you any sexual education, though. What you knew you'd learned through watching him satiating his own sexual urges. Those were memories you'd rather forget...

"Huh! I think I can guess why he never bothered, though. The lion's share of the material is really about safety. A guy like Benefactor probably doesn't care about what happens to his partner once he's done, but there's a lot to consider. Things like sexually transmitted diseases, pregnancy, and... you know what? We'll get to all of that! Why don't you go put on some pajamas?" Emi's response was still chipper, but you could tell she was stumbling a bit, trying to find the right order to roll out topics. You began to sense more strongly that sexual education was probably pretty darn far outside of her ordinary curriculum. This was going to be awkward...

The two of you ended up huddled by the computer in the living room with the blinds shut, you seated, and Emi standing. She'd dressed into pajamas, although they were much more conservative than her previous ones-- purple and full-bodied, including a button-up top and pants down to her feet in gaudy, orange-striped socks. You, on the other hand, had swapped into a clean gray sweatshirt that matched your previous one and plain, black pajama pants, just a bit too heavy for the weather. "He he... We're going to have to buy you something with a little more personality. You've got about as much character as Shota in that stuff," the teacher giggled, holding one hand over her mouth to stifle a less polite reaction.

You took a look at her socks and smiled, remarking that she herself might have a little too much personality.

"Haaa! You made a joke! I've already taught you everything you need to know, huh?!" she guffawed, clutching at the sides of her belly and reacting much more strongly than you'd expected to your feeble efforts to lighten the mood. Still, silly as she was and as much effort as she'd made to correct the mistake of walking out in her sexy sleepwear yesterday, the purple pajamas couldn't hide the fantastic shape of her body, including the supple curve from her waist to her hips and the occasional bounce of her breasts, still clearly braless beneath that top. "Alright, lucky for you, the internet is all about sex. We can get this wrapped up easy! The great part is that Midnight actually has an online lesson about this sort of thing, for heroes that don't get this in their normal curriculum. It's come up a few times at drinking parties, he he. I'll just type it into the search bar..."

Your caretaker leaned past you and began to hammer on the keyboard, while sticking her tongue up out one side of her mouth in a spunky expression of determination. The orange-and-lemon scent of her perfume at this range was driving you nuts! Plus, from this angle, you could see a bit of cleavage beneath the top two buttons of her shirt. You weren't even interested in what she was typing... but when you heard what she was saying, you managed to shift your attention.

"'Midnight... Sex... Lesson.' There! See? Top link. 'Midnight Sex Lesson.' Let's click it!" Emi eagerly grabbed one hand over yours and grinned, hitting the mouse's left button.

In an instant, a woman who looked like Midnight-- but was not Midnight-- appeared on screen. The sultry, black-haired beauty wore the same lipstick and eyeshadow, with that strange, skintight suit banded with black, so tight that it could be her own skin. Her proportions were amazing... huge, round breasts... wide, swaying hips and thighs. She could pass for the real deal, were it not for her pointed nipples practically sticking out of her suit-- a wardrobe malfunction that the real Midnight was keen to avoid. That might explain why the result was so high in the search bar. In fact, it must be higher than the video Midnight had mentioned to her colleague, because as a gentleman wearing only a black, ball-gagged gimp mask entered the screen from the left, it became indisputable that Emi had clicked the wrong video. Only later would you reflect and realize that Emi had carelessly left her safe search off before sitting you down at the computer.

"Good evening, boys!" the faker giggled from the monitor screen, bringing into frame what looked like a riding crop for smacking horses. To her left, the silent, mostly naked man stood with his hands bound behind his back; his dick was huge (bigger than yours, easily) and twitching. "Today, we're going to go over a lesson in sexual obedience, for all of you Midnight maniacs out there. Go ahead and pull those naughty cocks out your trousers-"

Emi practically slapped over the monitor in her attempt to take the mouse from you and close the video. You could see that her ears were blazing red, as she finally managed to shut the window and then began to feverishly pace the floor. Her gait was incredibly clownish, with her arms and fists swinging and her legs rising to high angles in her march. She deliberately spun at the end of each pace, so that she wouldn't end up facing you. "Th-That was nooot the right video! Your teacher made a biiiig goof-up just now, Ren! J-Just forget you ever saw that video, okay? Obviously, that wasn't Midnight and that wasn't the video I meant to show you! There's nothing about that kind of sex you need to learn, at least not right now! I-I mean, if you find someone that's interested in that kind of thing, that'd be okay, so you don't have to rule it out, but it's... it's not the right starting point!" she finished, finally turning to face you with a wide, twitching grin and one finger raised. Her face still hadn't cooled down from the embarrassment a moment ago.

You told her it was fine; you said you were already forgetting it. Hypnotists were great at forgetting things, you told her. That was a kind lie on your part... The newly erected boner in your pajama pants was hanging around, despite your reassurances.

"Okay, great! Um, yes! The real link! I see it just below! Just... turn around for a moment, in case I'm wrong again!" With her eyes practically spinning, the disgraced teacher found the appropriate video and loaded it up. After a brief wait, she sighed in relief and indicated you could turn around.

When you did, you saw the real Midnight smiling from the screen in a much more official looking video, with links to additional resources on one side. The voice that came from the monitor was indeed hers. It was a little funny that the real Midnight was so much like a porn actress herself, you reflected.

"Pheeew," Emi exhaled, wiping at her brow with one forearm. Now convinced that it would all be okay, she placed a hand on the back of your chair and smiled, watching along with you.

...

After about two minutes of that, when Midnight started talking about the finer points of the female anatomy and how to stimulate them, you found yourself glancing at Emi unconsciously. When Midnight talked about the boobs, you looked at Emi's. When she talked about the vagina, your eyes drifted down towards the lap of Emi's comfy purple pajamas. Finally, your teacher noticed you staring, then adopted an uneasy, curving smile. "U-Um... Maybe it would be better if I gave you some space? We found the right page, after all! That's right, you just... watch this video! I'll give you some privacy for a bit! If you need to... Well... Whatever you need to do, it's okay! I'll understand!" she signed off, snapping you an awkward salute, before turning and moving to her room with a speed that qualified the motion as a scamper. "Tissues are on the counter!"

You didn't appreciate her leaving you alone with this, nor her implication that you might be compelled to masturbate just from watching a sex ed video, but you decided to try and finish the video for both of your sakes. The material was pretty engaging and the teacher was pretty good at her job, even if she was the type of person who made it hard to keep your eyes on the diagrams. Soon enough, you'd come to understand penises, vaginas, and everything tertiary to utilizing those. It turned out you were actually pretty familiar on the subject already. After all, you'd masturbated before and you'd seen Emi do it earlier.

Midnight was certainly the type to trigger something carnal in hero fans everywhere. In hindsight, she could have even used her Somnambulist quirk to defeat Benefactor, most likely. What would it be like to live with her instead? You tried to picture what she'd wear around her apartment or what that place would even look like. For a hero, she didn't have a very wholesome public image. The fact that she was a teacher just made it weirder. If a cute girl like Emi wore such sexy sleepwear... what would the salacious Midnight wear? Crotchless, black, leather panties or something?

...

You ended up grabbing the tissues off the counter. Emi had told you it was okay, right? She wasn't going to come back in here without knocking first, after saying something like that. You stared at Midnight on the screen as the hapless recording of the teacher moved on to talking about contraceptives, an area that really needed more attention than you were devoting to it. As quietly as you could manage, you began to stroke your member, respectfully covering the head with the tissue to catch your load, should it come out. You still weren't fully devoted to getting off on a sex ed video for children.

The video had neared its end; Midnight was giving a pep-talk now about valuing your sexual identity and such. No one better to talk about that than her, you supposed. You wondered how this lesson would have compared to the other one Emi started to show you.

A naughty thought began to play at your mind. Getting that video to show up had been pretty easy. Apologizing to Ms. Joke in your mind, you disobeyed your instructions. You opened a second tab up and began to type: "Midnight... Sex... Lesson." You could keep the original video running while muting the second, deceiving Emi if she happened to be listening in.

You stared at the words entered in the search bar and gulped, feeling like your brain was thumping. The dangerous thought you'd come up with had nothing to do with mind control or Benefactor; as such, he didn't appear. Perhaps that was you reckoning more directly with the crisis you found yourself in, as a result of our own horniness and nothing else? Whatever the case, you couldn't stop yourself. You erased one word in the search-bar and then retyped two new ones. For at least ten or fifteen seconds, your finger hovered over the enter button. The screen read your misdeed back to you:

"Ms. Joke Sex Lesson."

You hit the enter key.

You clicked the top result.

After the last video, there was no reason to be surprised. This time, a woman dressed up as Ms. Joke was speaking to the camera, spreading her legs while wearing a replica of the hero's costume and grinning towards a classroom full of "students" who appeared to be too old for her usual curriculum. You couldn't hear any of the words she was saying, since you had the video muted, but her seductive smile, coupled with many ads showing women being fucked by giant, porn actor cocks, made it pretty clear where her lesson was going.

Immediately, you found yourself offended, first at yourself, then at the woman on the screen. What a poor imitation of Ms. Joke, compared to that Midnight actress! She hadn't capture Ms. Joke's character at all. First off, the woman wasn't wearing her trademark, jovial grin... she just looked like a porn actress, trying to woo people rather than make them laugh. You were sure she wasn't making jokes right now, just corny, porn dialogue. Furthermore, her shape wasn't right. She was a little taller, too skinny in the arms, with huge, fake boobs, out of place on your favorite lady hero. The real Ms. Joke had a body fit for heroism, with nice biceps and abs. The biggest difference was her face, of course. Emi was so sincere, with beautiful eyes and a cheerful face, always smiling. When she put a smile on, it was never an act for somebody's benefit. You apologized to the porn actress, understanding the ridiculousness of doing so, but there was no way she was going to capitalize on what made Ms. Joke so special. You couldn't possibly fap to this, even as she pulled her shorts down and wiggled her ass at a veritable cloud of exposed penises.

This should have been your call to close out the videos and stop.

Instead, you searched again. Your mind was now full of images of Emi-- the best parts of her, like her precious smile, her firm but feminine musculature, and her animated gestures. There was probably some content somewhere on the internet that could satisfy you. You ended up opening window after window, viewing one Ms. Joke look-alike after another. Despite stroking more and more furiously, it was as though your body had resolved not to let you cum until you found just the right subject material. Of course, it was equally possible you were just dragging it out.

Finally, you came up with an inspired idea. Gulping, you tried another search: "Miss Joke Swimsuit." You'd finally come to understand that while you'd never find a real video of Ms. Joke having sex on the internet, you might get lucky and find a picture of her in a swimsuit.

You dug up one better: a behind-the-scenes video archive of Ms. Joke from a Lady Heroes edition of a famous swimwear magazine. Instantly, the face of the genuine article appeared on the screen, grinning with a slight pink to her cheeks and wearing a two-piece, half orange, half green bikini with little ribbons on the side, tied off with bells. It was actually a pretty conservative swimsuit, all things considered. Water glistened upon her fit body and her sea-green hair hung wet, but glamorous, around her toned, rounded shoulders. The setting was some vacated pool on a sunny day, but you couldn't care less about the scenery.

Your penis instantly, powerfully responded to the image. Your body, which had been resisting the urge to cum, now pleaded with you to let it happen. Something told you you couldn't give in yet... instead, you muted the original video and turned up the new one to a quiet volume so you could hear her talking to the reporter.

"Ha ha ha! I-I don't think that people are going to be interested in this kind of shoot. Couldn't you get Mt. Lady or Midnight for this? I'm not the kind of hero that people buy magazines for, right?" Emi asked the photographer, rubbing her bicep sheepishly. The motion pressed her magnificent breasts together... Her statement was ridiculous! Who wouldn't buy the magazine if they saw her on the cover?!

The guy behind the camera laughed, then told her politely that they were a big fan. She cracked a joke and gave a big laugh. Next, the man asked: "Can you get on your knees for the next shot? Try placing your palms on the tile of the pool in front of you and give a sexy smile!"

"You're pushing it, buddy, even if you are a fan!" Emi giggled, releasing her bicep and following instructions. "This isn't actually going on the cover, right? Like, somewhere in the middle of the magazine, right? It's going to be embarrassing if my students see this."

He reassured her that this was a tasteful shoot, then admitted that she'd guessed correctly it wouldn't be on the front cover. She was one of many female heroes who'd agreed to pose, after all.

Thus comforted, she adopted the pose he'd asked, then playfully fluttered her eyelashes. Joking around, she flashed a peace sign, closed her eyes, and stuck out her tongue. It was a cute, joking gesture, perfectly suited for her. She probably wasn't flirting with the camera man, any more than she needed to in order to make a nice mood for their photo shoot. And yet... the generosity in that expression, the playfulness, and the genuineness of it brought all of your feelings for Emi up so powerfully, it was like those feelings had manifested physically and begun to squeeze your shaft, along with your own grip.

You couldn't hold it in any longer! You shot into the tissue, gripping it tightly and clenching your teeth as your penis throbbed, almost painful in its excitement. You'd never cummed this hard in your life, except for maybe the time you fapped while watching Emi in the laundry room. There was a bit of a theme developing there. Your fist ended up banging against the desk painfully, causing you to hiss out "Fuuuck!"

There was no way you'd be able to hide the fact that you'd just masturbated from Emi; if she hadn't heard the video, she'd have heard you moaning "fuck" just now. The only thing you'd be able to cover up was what you'd actually masturbated to. You quickly threw away that tissue, then used another to wipe yourself up while closing out the pages one by one by clicking the little red "X" like Emi had shown you how to do. The last one you left up was Emi's photoshoot. You cursed that damn camera man... What a lucky guy!

You didn't even think about the irony that you were cursing the good luck of a guy that had gotten to spend a few hours with Emi in a professional capacity, while you instead occupied her living space and would be sleeping two rooms away from her that very night.