You get a surprise when you meet the visitor who ratted out Jeanette that crumbles your resolve

Since you spent so much money on the illicit nanites helping you breed as many girls as you can on your visit to this station, one of the ways you've been cutting back is on cleaning nanites. You are pretty tidy, by habit, so you figured it wasn't worth the expense. When you awake, a blushing Jeanette informs you you of a couple of problems.

Firstly, her early-stage pregnancy is giving her morning sickness, so she made a mess of your bathroom. You're annoyed at having to clean it up at first, but... considering how many of the schoolgirls you've dumped condom-bursting loads of semen inside this week are going to be experiencing their own bouts of nausea soon, you shouldn't complain too much. Karma is a bitch, and when it only gives you a mild slap, whining about it is bad luck.

Secondly... an embarrassed Jeanette explains that her bunk is a mess because, like you suggested, she was trying to 'do research' on the holonet, with the aid of keywords like "futa, MILF, teacher/student, creampie". It seems that the amount of tissues she was able to find wasn't enough, and the sheets got turned into a sticky mess as well. Since she was doing that research with her 'morning wood', it's still warm by the time you get to it. That annoys you more. Not only is it more difficult to clean up, but the musk of Jeanette's cum reminds you how achingly horny you are. If nothing else, this vindicates your decision not to fool around with Jeanette in bed. Not only would it be too much of a temptation not to cum in (or on) her, which would trigger the collapse of the stasis field inside you (thanks to the tiny sensor-tag Mrs. Glidden stuck on your right nut), but Jeanette's cock might have made as much of a sticky mess of your cunt as it did those bedsheets.

You console yourself by thinking that in a year or two, when your bet is wrapped up and you've toyed with Claire to your heart's content, you'll call Jeanette back up, call in the favor she owes you, and give her kid a sibling, and let her give your many other kids another sibling, too. That thought turns out to be distracting erotic, as well... so much that you don't bother doing any research on the place you're supposed to investigate today, to find the snitch and save Jeannie from expulsion and disgrace.

...........

While the online page for St. Vivian's Academy for Young Ladies was enough to convince you to drop everything to find a way to infiltrate it, with all of the pictures of gorgeous girls in plaid miniskirts and knee-high stockings, you haven't really bothered to do any research on Oxwood Academy before going there. Sure, you can appreciate a hot young guy from time to time, but right now you are undertaking the biggest most important challenge of your life and can't afford to fall prey to the kind of temptations that might lead to you getting a belly-bulging handicap in the next crucial 70-odd weeks. You've already got one precarious load of cum inside you, barely contained in a temporary stasis field, and don't need to add to the problem - even though, if you're going to end up having some random guy's baby, an attractive college student is vastly preferable to the ghoulish prospect you currently face.

All that aside, you know your focus needs to be on finding the visiting soccer player who testified about Jeanette's busy cock making a mess of Mrs. Lopez, and if your sudden, random attack of conscience yesterday wasn't enough, if you mess this up, Jonas is going to be very pissed at you and could really cramp your style with his influence. So, you didn't look into Oxwood at all. If you had, you might have expected to find what you do when you go out to the collection of small stadiums and fields where Oxwood's sports teams are practicing.

More to the point, even if you didn't remember what Mrs. Glidden had said, you may have realized four important facts.

1. The galactic population tilts significantly towards female, and that's even more here on St. Applegate station, on account of the local religion being particularly harsh and strict on young men.
2. For all its sexy foibles, St. Vivian's Academy is a top-tier academic institution; a diploma from there is worth its weight in antimatter, and less than half of the girls who apply for it actually get in.
3. Oxwood Academy is a very prestigious and high-tier junior college as well, despite the fact that the lack of institutionalized cheating keeps their test scores lower.
4. Unlike St. Vivians under the watchful eye of Valerie Glidden, all you have to do to get into Oxwood Academy is to check a box on the application affirming that you 'identify as' a male.

As it turns out, Mrs. Glidden's venomous contempt for that policy, though perhaps unjustified, are not at all unfounded.

While, yes, there are a couple of field hockey and track teams full of the expected muscular, handsome, clean-cut male jocks running around, you also see something quite surprising.

As you stand there staring, a dozen fit, alluring young women in ass-hugging bloomers and midriff-baring tank tops jog past on the track. Most of them have short, unisex haircuts or ponytails. Some are buxom with a heavy bounce in their breasts with each step, more are lithe and petite with beautiful little hills, but all are achingly attractive and hit your inflamed lust right where it hurts-so-good. Blinking, you tell yourself they must just be feminine-looking boys, but when one pauses and bends over to tie her shoe, those bloomers are tight enough that you can clearly see the crease of her pussy.

You cross your legs at the expected response. Turning to the side, you can see that the basketball team currently practicing is the same way: so far as you can tell, it's a bunch of sporty girls in tight athletic shorts, and with their jerseys shifting as they play, you can tell that most of them are wearing sports bras. On closer inspection, using your visual analysis cyberware, and after hearing them talk, you are able to tell that a few of those on the basketball team actually are feminine-looking males, but the majority are definitely females, at least by your definition of the respective terms.

"Hello, you're Ms. Taffers?" You hear a deep man's voice behind you. Turning around, you see a handsome middle-aged dark-skinned man in a loose sweatshirt, wearing a ball cap with a whistle around his neck.

"Oh, uh, right - Coach Friedman, right?" you shake his hand. "I'm, uh, glad the athletics director told you I was c-coming..."

He nods. "Yeah, we can really use that advertising deal that the director said you and your contacts can help Oxwood get. As you know, the board is very concerned about how applications keep going down, even though the school's had to keep raising tuition fees... that's why we're going for broke this year and fielding so many sporting teams. We want too try and get a foothold in every division of every sport... we just need to get lucky once and take a sector-wide championship in something as a selling point. It's already an uphill battle for many parents who aren't from St. Applegate to convince their restless teens to attend an academy with such strict rules of conduct... a lot would rather go to a party school."

You are only half-listening to the coach as you spot another team of beautiful young women, these spreading out around a baseball diamond... all of them in tight pinstriped t-shirts and khaki 'booty shorts'. Those shorts make it more possible to see that, again, there are a few slim-bodied boys among the team, but again, they are the minority in comparison to all the ones whose perky tits are showing through those shirts. Unlike the basketball team, none of them are wearing sports bras.

"What's, uh, going on over there?" you ask, trying to sound innocent as you gesture towards the all-female-looking track team jogging past. "Those are Oxwood students?"

Coach Friedman chuckles condescendingly. "Ms. Taffers, please - it's fine. You don't have to hide it. The athletics director is perfectly aware of why you're insisting on coming here to observe our teams' performance before you agree to help us get those ad slots. But, just in case you're an innocent college sports fan," he winks knowingly at you, "there are a lot of our teams for the 'featherweight divisions' out here. In case you didn't realize, interstellar sporting events aren't simply divided into "boys" and "girls" teams like most primary and secondary schools are. Can you imagine putting some Terran-baseline girls up against a bunch of hundred-kilogram amazons from a heavyworld? They'd be racking up millions of credits in medical bills after every game."

You think back on Yolanda from yesterday. He's definitely got a point.

"So," the coach continues, "the divisions are class-based instead, based on a complex formula that takes into account height, weight, bone density, lean muscle mass, and hormone levels. Competition is really stiff in the 'lightweight', 'mediumweight' and 'heavyweight' divisions, but the featherweight division is a lot less cutthroat. Since Oxwood has been getting a lot of applicants who attend based on, ahem," he chuckles, "'self-identification' as male or gender neutral rather than male biology, we're able to field a lot of strong featherweight teams in addition to our light, medium and heavies. That's one of the advantages we at Oxwood have over our sister school St. Vivians, with their strict, old-fashioned rules about acceptable anatomy for attendees. I was a little skeptical of it myself at first, but it is definitely... worthwile." by the lascivious undertone in his voice, you're sure that this coach is just as perversely opportunistic with his position as so many of the male staff at St. Vivians are.

His watch beeps. He glances at it. "Ah. What a coincidence - I've got a private meeting with one of my players who hasn't been pulling 'his' weight." he smirks and tips his cap. "The other coaches and assistants have passed the word around that you're an important figure at the Interstellar Athletics Committee who they need to impress. Hmm..." he glances down at the bulge growing under your short skirt and nods knowingly as you try and fail to hide it. "Yeah, the director mentioned you were a futa. Just remember - if you end up getting involved in any, heh, athletic activities, be sure you play safe. Oxwood," he points to the huge campus building in the distance behind him, "may be less strict than St. Vivians in some ways but it has a lot of the same rules when it comes to religious doctrine. I trust you brought your own... safety equipment?"

You nod dumbly, and the coach walks away. "Damn it," you mutter to yourself. "I just screwed myself by getting greedy, yesterday. All I had to do was quit while I was ahead at St. Vivians. If it wasn't for this damn tag, and Valerie's insane strap-on contraption... I could be spending all weekend adding some of these beauties to my list..." you sigh. "Then again, how was I supposed to know I could find a bunch of sporty girls on no birth control at something that advertises itself as a men-only school? Maybe I can convince Belinda's dad to withhold that favor he was gonna do this school until after I make a second visit, after I get this infernal chastity-enforcing sensor tag off."

Pausing, you glance back over your shoulder. You had brought Jeanette along so she could help identify her antagonist in a pinch, but of course, you didn't want to raise suspicions by getting her a visitor's pass, so she is waiting inconspicuously at a bench beyond the boundaries of the school grounds. That's still close enough that some Oxwood students might start gravitating towards her to flirt if you leave her there too long. "...more to the point," you say with annoyance, "why didn't Jeanette just apply to this place?" you sigh as the answer occurs to you. "...I guess the nerdy type like her would have even more difficulty fitting in at a place like this, even if she has a bigger dick than most of the male-male students."

...

The following hour of investigation is excruciating. Just as you'd feared, more than a few of the "boys" on the Oxwood featherweight teams, regardless of whatever they marked as their identity on their admissions, are every bit as flirty as the flouncing miniskirted schoolgirls of St. Vivian's. If anything, these 'non-binary' Oxwood students are even more forward, and your attempt to be reserved and professional backfires, only making them find more excuses to bend over and do stretches in front of you. The flirty comments they make get less and less subtle with each small group of them you interact with.

One of them, a sandy-haired track team member called 'Aspen', has such a cool, confident demeanor that you thought she wasn't even flirting until her hand was under your skirt, wrapping around your hard shaft and squeezing. The shock of it was so great that you almost lost control of yourself and spurted yourself to your doom right away. When you try and back away she doesn't even apologize, just smirking confidently and rolling your eyes, telling you to find her when you are ready to see "the track team's best" in action.

Although outwardly you **** a smile and find an excuse to walk away, silently you're fuming, and promise to repay that naughty athlete for her lack of respect for futas' personal space by returning after this Jeanette/Valerie situation is resolved and making sure she's benched with a baby bump next semester.

As it is, you know you came close to disaster there, so, after making sure they are all empty, you duck into one of the locker rooms and give yourself a long cold shower. For the first time in hours, your dick is small and limp by the time you are toweling off your curvaceous body.

...and then you hear the door swing open. "Damn it, I put up a do not disturb si-" you start to say as you whirl around, breasts bare and hips only covered by a towel.

But your words trail off when you see who is standing there. No mistake about it. It's exactly who you came here to find - the visitor to St. Vivians who had caught Jeanette with her cock out and ratted on her to that crazy bitch Mrs. Glidden.

Without the shapeless polo shirt and sorts, you can now see that the reason 'Vincent' looked unusually short and slightly built for a male collegiate athlete, is because "he" is actually a "she", as far as you would define such things. Although her coppery red hair is trimmed very short in the back, there would've been no mistaking her up-close. Right now she's in just a pair of tight athletic shorts. Her skin is pale, there is a light spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks. But her face isn't what your eyes are drawn to as much as the pair of perky tits that pulling off her shirt has left on display. They aren't exactly huge, but on her slender, athletic frame, they aren't what you'd call "small" either. The only thing you would, in fact, call them - is "perfect".

Rather than staring, the sprightly, freckle-nosed young woman glances at you. Her eyes are wide and almost innocent, but it's the cool, unperturbed type of innocence. Unlike a lot of the other student athletes you've run across today, she doesn't try to tease or flirt... or perhaps she's just confident enough in her looks that she doesn't feel the need.

"Hey." the cute snitch says flatly. "You done with that shower? I'm heading in." Casually, she yanks down her shorts, leaving her standing there completely in the nude. You struggle to tear your eyes away from the enticing sight of her clean-shaven little coin-slot of a pussy. Sure enough, blood starts rushing to a certain part of your body. The relief of the cold shower is undone in moments as a flush creeps over your body.

Before you realize the danger, a certain stiff protruding part of yours causes your towel to fall limply to the ground, exposing your body completely and leaving your stiff futa-hood pointing straight at her. You make a silly, slightly embarrassed face, putting a hand to your face. "Oh... ooops!"

But 'Vincent' doesn't seem like she's bothered. She gives your overenthusiastic dick a long look and a faint smile. You can tell there's a spark of arousal and excitement in her eyes, but she plays it off casually. "Heh. Yup. That'll happen. Glad you didn't make a mess in the shower stalls, at least." she keeps talking in a casual tone as she walks past you. "Some of the guys on the team - you know, the guy-guys, not girls who checked a box on their application - are total jerkoffs, literally. You can tell they were in the showers before you. I'm so tired of seeing that nasty stuff dripping from the walls." She steps into the shower stalls and you hear the hiss of running water.

Your mouth is dry and the throbbing between your legs just got worse than ever. Your first thought is to find an excuse to get back in the showers and see if you can play your cards right. She definitely looked intrigued by your nude body, and your... full package, if only in passing. And she has no idea you're helping out Jeanette at her older brother's request. But... where do you go from here? You assumed it was a boy who had been snitching on Jeanette. Normally this discovery would be welcome, but considering the threat of penalty you're under, it's also a risk.

"Alright, Amanda," you tell yourself, "focus. If you are going to win your freedom and Claire's submission, you absolutely cannot try to fuck that cross-dressing hottie. The only thing that matters right now is getting her to swear to Mrs. Glidden she made a mistake so I can get that horrible stasis-cum-bubble out of my cunt ASAP. I still don't even know what this is about. If she just hated futas on principle she would've reacted badly to me being here... Maybe my eyes were playing tricks? Ah - she left her ID card in that pile of clothes..."

You step closer and silently rifle through Vincent's discarded sportswear before the little dog-like laundry robot can collect them.

"Hmph." you say as you examine the ID card. "This is definitely who Valerie meant, alright. 'Vincent Walsh'. First year student. Age eighteen and change, just like Jeanette. Looking through the public records.... hmm. Seems like she lived away from the station for several years and went to a secondary school in a whole different star system, and only got back here in time to enroll here at Oxwood a few months ago."

You carefully replace the ID card among the discarded clothes. "But it lists her as a native of St. Applegate. Says here she applied first for St. Vivians, and after not getting in, decided she suddenly didn't identify as female when Oxwood had some extra sports scholarships to hand out, just like all those other 'featherweight team' members out there. Let me cross-reference... huh. Weird. Says she was in the same school system as Jeanette, but only up until five years ago when her family moved away."

Shaking your head again, you put your own clothes back on - no easy feat, with your throbbing erection getting in the way. "I thought this was just a jilted wannabe-boyfriend stalking Jeannie from high school. This is more mysterious. Somehow I suspect just offering cash might backfire. But I don't have enough to go on to figure out Vincent's motivation. Only one thing to do..."

An excited quiver runs through your hips, and your cock twitches. "No, not that! Don't get your hopes up!" you whisper harshly to your own unruly appendage.

.....

A few minutes later when Vincent has finished showering and changed into a fresh set of clothes - also sportswear - she spots you outside the locker room area, waiting for her. She doesn't look surprised. "Hey again." she says casually. "You must be that 'coordinator' or whatever the coach told us was gonna be around today. I'm kinda tired after practice - think you could go bother someone else instead? Try Andrea. She's really into, uh... I mean, I think you're probably the kind of visitor she would be eager to try and impress. If you know what I mean."

"Oh," you say in a sweet tone of voice, "but you are SO photogenic. My agency is supposed to be advertising your academy, you know? And I think a lot of promising young athletes might be eager to apply to Oxwood if they realized that they might end up with someone like you in the same dorm as them."

Vincent flutters her eyes and looks a little flattered, putting her hands on her hips. "Thanks, I guess. Uh, I'd ask what you want, but I think it's kinda obvious..."

"To have you pose for a few glamorous pictures?" you lick your ruby-red lips. "Of course. It'll only take a few minutes of your time. And I'll put in a good word for you with your coach and the athletics director.

Blowing air through her nose, the coppery-haired young woman looks down at her commpad. "Pictures, sure. Yeah, I guess I'm game. Let me go grab a couple of things first. Tell me where and I'll meet you there in twenty."

....

A short while later, Vincent strolls into the backup emergency aid station that you suggested. It's a small, cozy, secluded space with just a few cots - the docbot is currently inactive, waiting to be switched on if anyone gets hurt during a game. But although she faintly smiles when she sees you, she is surprised when she sees someone else in the room with the two of you. Surprise quickly gives way to anger.

"YOU!" Vincent says with a deep frown as she sees a shy, baffled looking Jeanette sitting on one of the cots, still wearing her schoolgirl outfit. The reason you chose this spot is because a loophole of Jeanette saying she 'felt queasy' was enough to bypass usual restrictions on St. Vivian's students coming onto the campus and got her permission to enter the aid station.

The cute, mousy brunette futa looks at Vincent in bafflement. "Umm... hello? Have we met?" she sounds genuinely confused.

"You don't even remember me?" Vincent huffs, then turns to look at you. "Can you get rid of this annoying dork, please? Or find us a different spot to use for the photos or whatever?"

"Sorry, Miss Walsh," you say. "...or, am I supposed to say, 'Mister'?"

"Hah hah. Whatever, very funny." Vincent responds, annoyed.

You continue: "...I'm afraid the photo-shoot was a ruse. I brought you here to get to the bottom of this. Miss Ranton here is a friend of a friend, and I'd like to know why you are trying to get her expelled and ruin a half-million-cred tuition for her."

"Eat my ass." Vincent is already turning around and walking for the door, shooting you a middle finger over her shoulder as she walks towards the exit.

"Wait!" Jeanette suddenly leaps to her feet. "That insult... I remember now. You were always saying that. Vinny! I remember you now! You always said 'eat my ass' whenever I asked to be let out after you locked me in a supply closet, or asked for you to give me my shoes back, or to stop kicking the legs of my desk... I haven't seen you since-" Jeanette's eyes suddenly bug out behind her glasses, and her speech impediment starts acting up again as she gets nervous. "s-s-since... s--s--since... oh darn it." she squeaks in a small voice.

"Since you got me expelled, you mean? You fucking tattletale teacher's pet?" Vincent saws with a cold frown.

Your jaw drops open. This redhead has been holding onto a grudge all this time? All this over... that?

Jeanette whimpers piteously. "I'm sorry, Vinny! I had no idea they'd expel you just for getting caught cheating on the end-of-semester exams! My mom and dad were always talking about how God is always watching, and the virtues of honesty, but I felt really really bad afterwards! I even tried to take back what I'd said but they said they'd already investigated, and..."

Vincent refuses to look at Jeanette. "...and got me in even worse trouble because they heard that I'd been, pfft, 'picking on you', and accused me of threatening you. Thanks a lot, you disgusting futa freak. I spent two years in a reform school, and then got to have my mom get all 'disappointed' when I didn't make it into St. V because of the black mark on my record."

Then Vincent looks over to you. "You must be somebody this snotty, privileged tattletale had her rich daddy hire. Let me guess, you thought I might kick her in the nuts like she deserves? Try and get something over on me by making me lose my temper? Sorry, nope. I'm going home. You and Jeannie can go suck eachother off."

"Wh-" you scoff, "you can't be serious! THAT'S what this is about? You're trying to ruin Jeanette's reputation, humiliate her in front of the whole station, and cost her family a fortune, because of something she did in middle school?" You have to admit to yourself that you're a bit disappointed. You were hoping the feud between these two would be over something titillating or sexy, like Jeanette fucked her mom or something, instead of a childish grudge over standing up to bullying. "How did you even know to catch Jeanette in the act like that? Did someone tip you off?"

You see a flicker of nervousness in Vincent's face, but she almost immediately shakes it off. You know you hit the bullseye. Someone was using Vincent as a tool to get Jeanette booted from the university... and you think you have a good idea who.

Vincent halfway turns around, and looks you up and down again. "Hmm." despite her flashes of anger, overall the cute short-haired girl is keeping her cool attitude. "As if you care. You're just some private eye or whatever. Because of course, mommy doesn't want her precious nerd-baby to get in trouble when she's the one breaking rules, even after tattling on everybody else. I really don't have the energy to deal with whatever you're gonna try to try and pressure me into lying for Jeannie. So, how about you just tell me what she and her mom are paying you, and I'll pay you instead to drop it and walk away."

Your wicked intuition suddenly prickles, like a sensuous fingertip on the back of your neck. There's an opportunity here. "Hah... alright, you got me." you say with a smirk. "My association with Miss Ranton here is... mostly mercenary in nature. But you shouldn't write checks with your mouth that you can't cash. You think you could afford to repay my fee with a student's stipend? You better plan on getting yourself a summer job at the 'Black Hole Burger' if you want to go that route."

Jeanette looks absolutely distraught and betrayed, giving you her best puppy-dog eyes as she silently begs you to reconsider. But, out of Vincent's field of vision, you give Jeanette a reassuring wink.

Vincent's mouth puckers as she considers. She definitely doesn't like your suggestion of a service job. "I... I'll pay whatever it is in good time. I'll write an official IOU and everything."

"'In good time'? I'm a fixer, Miss Walsh, not a bank. Ever hear of a thing called 'interest'?" you say.

Vincent gets a faint smile and softly chuckles a couple of times. "I think you've already got plenty of 'interest' in me. Enough to knock your towel off a few minutes ago." she takes a step closer to you. "How about a blowjob?" she says bluntly, with no more teasing or innuendo. "Whenever you want, until I've paid you back. And in exchange, you don't tell Jeannie's family you failed until it's too late. Deal?"

"Oh my." you say. "A lot of the parents of your classmates might be concerned if they knew their sons were sharing dorm space with someone like you. I bet you're making it hard for those guys to maintain their 'purity'."

Again, you see a little twitch in Vincent's eyes that tells you your comments hit the mark. She puts her hands behind her head and pushes her chest out in her best sexy pose. "You interested or not?"

"I am," you purr, uncrossing your legs and letting your bulge show under your skirt. "But like you said, Jeannie is an even worse tattletale than you. She'll just go to her parents or her brother and get more like me to hassle you. Unless.... there was some reason she was too embarrassed to admit? Like, say, you gave her a blowjob?"

That gives both girls, the bully and the victim, quite a shock. But Vincent recovers quickly, and bites her lower lip. "Hm. Hmmm." she flicks her wide, deceptively-innocent-looking eyes back and forth between the two of you. "Alright, sure. I'll get a picture of Jeannie's shameful cumming face while I'm at it."

"A-amaaaaandaaaaaa~!" Jeanette gives an absolutely pitiful whine of disbelief.

"Sorry, Jeannie. I kind of want to see your shameful cumming face, too." you say with a devilish smirk. "And I want to get my money's worth, so I'll let Vinny here warm up on you before she puts those sweet lips to use on me. Unless... you think you can change my mind?"

You confidently stride over to where Jeanette is sitting and lean in. She tries to shy away but you grab her shoulders. And then you plant a lewd, passionate kiss on her lips, sticking your tongue in her mouth and pushing your chest up against hers. Her resistance melts almost immediately, and you can feel her stiffening cock hitting your elbow as you swap spit with her noisily.

In the midst of kissing up her cheek, you whisper to Jeanette: "Time to practice that 'move' I was talking about you using on Hochmann."

"Ah...!" Jeanette's eyes go wide and she clamps her thighs together as if trying to hide her cock. "N-no! Amanda! I can't! Not on Vinny, not on HER of all people! I can't, you never even showed me or anything like you said!"

Vincent misinterprets what she is talking about, not having been privvy to what you discussed with Jeanette this morning, and just scoffs, leaning impatiently against a wall. "As if you'll be able to resist once I get started." she says.

But you are smirking at Jeanette devilishly. You kiss her on the other cheek, and whisper to her again: "Alright, fine. I'll show you a dry run. Pay attention, this will be the only 'class' you have before your final exam with Hochmann..." you then turn back to Jeanette's freckled tomboy nemesis and give her a seductive smile. "Oh yeah, Jeanette is definitely ready. Such a slut that she'd fuck her teacher right in the middle of the day. You think she could resist? This will be a nice consolation prize for her expulsion..."