Of a sissy who knows his place

It was a strange and harrowing experience, for Jesse. To simply wrap his lips around Suzy's cock and feel every thrust the other sissy was receiving. He couldn't see much… beyond the slim, churning musculature behind his friend's belly-button as it brushed against his forehead. He could hear the dry slap of balls against ass-cheeks though; and the lewdly, mewling squeaks this drew from the femboy's lips. The erection in Jesse's gullet seemed to throb bigger with every penetration, forcing itself deeper down his throat with just the secondhand forces at play. The virginal kneeler hardly felt he could complain or ****… when it was the other short-skirted teen who was really taking the brunt of this. And all the while his mind kept connecting that friction against his tonsils with what it might feel like to be in Suzy's position instead.

Pressed against the cold classroom floor, Jesse's own little backside seemed to gasp along with the labored breaths above. He could feel his miserly erection straining against the flap of material smothering it, soaking a small damp spot of pre-cum into those tartan patterns. Shame and guilt flowed through all of him at this obvious sign of arousal over his companion's moaning depravity. Yet that only seemed to increase the prickling warmth running up and down the back of his neck, and the drooling overspill as he rolled his tongue around his own fleshy invasion. Mr Silvertongue had insisted that the mouths of born-to-be sluts like them would naturally fill with saliva whenever they could even smell a cock approaching. A Pavlovian confirmation of everything they knew to be true about their worth and truest purpose. Jesse couldn't help but begin to believe that as his eyes began to water too… All he wanted in that moment was for Suzy to be pushed a little further down his oesophagus. To be choked another inch along the cascade of emotions that were building up inside of him. It was a terrible thing, to realise you were so enjoying the lurid, echoing slam of a friend's debasement. That, set against all those swirling doubts and worries, this was a release of pressures built up.

The silver-haired visitor groaned somewhere above, the rhythm of his thrusting hips staggering into a last few, trembling heaves. An instant later, Jesse felt a convulsing throb from Suzy. He knew instinctively that one thing had led to the other. That, by extensive training or delight in servitude, the other sissy would orgasm whenever his master did… an empathetic reaction to succeeding in one’s duty. The panting blonde schoolslut collapsed forward onto his desk, while Jesse desperately coughed his cock back up, so as to catch the precious expulsions he required. He sucked at the deflating sausage like a calf at a teat, worried that he might already have lost half of what he needed… another load selfishly swallowed instead of shared with his classmates. Suzy seemed to have plenty to give however, spurting string after string onto his dear friend’s tongue. It would seem the act of being fucked by his darling Daddy, while being sucked off by the prettiest femboy in class, in front of a room full of subtly jealous eyes… was a combination to drain the poor thing dry. He burbled incoherently against the hardwood surface, while one end calmly extracted his penis and brought it to the next student to clean; and the other made sure to squeeze every last drop possible out from below.

Meanwhile, all around… the lesson simply continued unabated. Mr Durren droning on through just another day of training these nubile, young things of all the politest ways they could offer themselves up as tribute. Everything proceeding exactly as it should, in Madame Stanfield’s Academy for Sluts of Great Pedigree.