You make a deal and ditch the cheating keys

You are starting to see how this crazy colony of St. Applegate, and its prestigious school, work, now. There are a lot of things which are banned - but some things are BANNED and other things are "banned".

In the later category, with quotation marks, would be having sex with the students. You aren't sure if there's something in the water or some subliminal messaging but, underneath all of the religious and wholesome posturing, most of the young women at this academy treat dropping their panties like a handshake. They're so hot to trot that they put students from 'party schools' you've been to to shame. Even among the few who turned down your solicitations, several have since turned up as "pregnancy assists" which suggests that they too weren't shy about taking cock, they just weren't attracted to futas. And clearly, the older generation and authority figures are well aware of this. To call their efforts at preventing sexual encounters in the halls half-hearted is an understatement. The reason you've been able to go around impregnating co-eds willy nilly like this is because this school, and this whole colony, is DESIGNED to allow slimy perverts like yourself to engage in rampant sexcapades.

There are some other things they really do take seriously. Such as recording devices. With so many wealthy folks coming in to fool around with naughty schoolgirls it stands to reason they're paranoid about being recorded. That actually works to your advantage, since there's no cameras almost anywhere, allowing you to bargain and wheedle your way under the students' skirts and pump them full of cum all the live-long day, but it sadly means you can't record any of your trysts for future enjoyment.

But there's an even more severely enforced taboo. Pills and nanotech. That's one of the reasons you have to be very careful not to overstep your bounds or push your luck to the degree that anyone claims you had your way with them forcefully. Even if you were exonerated of that specific charge, a detailed medical scan of one of your sperm samples would reveal the illicit (here, anyway) technology you've been using to tilt the playing field yet further in your favor. Any of these girls you've been packing full of fertile loads of your swimmers could bring about your downfall with a single report. It's fortunate for you that doing so would be considered so embarrassing... plus, the ladies here seem to take the scriptural prohibition on telling lies a lot more seriously than they take the prohibition on pre-marital sex. Of course, even though there's a bit of a risk for you, most of the risk was being taken by the residents of St. Applegate, especially their nubile, horny youth. This Academy is 2/3 school and 1/3 sex club, yet its sexual ecosystem was precariously balanced on an under-the-table supply of condoms. It was like popping a soap bubble.

...an appropriate enough metaphor, for your current situation, as your balls tremble and unleash the latest of many terrifyingly potent loads they've been frantically brewing up. The cannon-like **** of your hot wad inflates the rubber's reservoir tip until it bursts. Feeling that little 'snap' and knowing that the only thing besides sheer luck standing between a young hottie and a visit to the maternity ward just disintegrated never gets old... it makes you feel weak in the knees every time. Knowing that this might be one of the last times you'll get to experience that signature 'St. Applegate snap' makes you all the more determined to savor your last few.

The pale, skinny, flat-chested redhead with braided pigtails who'd been enthusiastically throwing her ass back against your hips in the girls' restroom makes a startled "Gyaaaah?!" sound as she feels your hot cum flood her. She reflexively pulls away, but it's too late. From the look of her face it's a new feeling for her. Although not one single student you've seduced since you got here was an actual virgin, since they normally use condoms, you're deeply flattered to think that a lot of the girls you've met here have given you their "creampie virginity". Not that most of them intended to.

Between the gene-tech enhancements you loaded up on and those performance drinks you've been chugging, your numerous lovers here at St. Vivians typically know it the moment they've been cummed in, since there's a slight pressure from all the jizz filling them up. Sure enough, her pussy squirts out a messy white stream which begins dribbling down her fishnet stockings.

"Oh, did the condom break?" you ask as casually as if asking someone if their housekeeping drone is malfunctioning.

The slender redhead pops a squat and looks up at you, sighing in annoyance. "Yeah, it did. Goddamn it. Uh, don't tell the prefects I said that."

You smirk. There's those double standards again. She knows she'd be much more likely to be punished for taking the lord's name in vain than for dropping her panties for a visitor. "Ah well. Good thing we're already in the bathroom. Let it drip out into the toilet so you don't get pregnant." You pull your snug, booty-hugging shorts back up and zip up your fly. "I'll see you later, sweetie."

"Wait!" the girl says with an open-mouthed expression. You look at her. It's amazing how spending a week around so many absurdly beautiful women makes you notice the slightest flaws in their appearance. This sophomore has a perfectly sultry body (as long as a-cup boobs are your thing) but she's got a pronounced overbite and a big nose that probably got her called 'horse-face' in grade school. And her voice is very nasal and a little irritating to listen to. You aren't being judgmental though - those little flaws help make each girl memorable. You're glad they don't allow facial re-constructs or orthodontic nanites on this station.

"...oh." you remember. "Right. I was going to take you on a date... sorry Corrie, I'm going to have to take a rain check on that, I just remembered I have another presentation to deliver." Well, it's not quite a lie, if you count 'delivering' more sperm to Corrie's classmates. "I'll call you up tomorrow, okay?"

Corrie gives an exasperated sigh and rolls her eyes as she awkwardly shuffles into one of the bathroom stalls. "I really wanted to go to the shopping mall today... especially since you said you'd pay."

Oh. Your eyebrows raise. There's a shopping mall here? That sounds like a place to check out tomorrow. "I'll electronically send you a gift card when I get back to my ship," you say. "I'd hand over some credit bills from my purse, but... you know, I wouldn't want to make you look like a whore or anything."

Unlike a lot of the ditzy girls here, Corrrie is sharp enough to catch your snide remark and snorts in annoyance. "Fuck off! And you'd better make it a big one! Now I have to get a damn emergency pill."

Your heart skips a beat and you frown. "...they have those here? I thought no one was allowed to buy those, not even married couples."

Corrie slams the bathroom stall door closed. "Ooops, I guess I misspoke." she says sarcastically in a none-of-your-business tone. "Didn't you have something to get to?"

You feel a slight pang of disappointment. Apparently Blake and her sorority sisters aren't the only ones smuggling in such things - someone is willing to risk bringing in something too illegal to be sold here at all. You wouldn't want to do that yourself. There's a quirk of the law here you noticed that posession of three or fewer of those kinds of pills is banned but not criminalized - however, selling or distributing them is considered "moral terrorism" and carries a fine of, like, a billion credits, which is probably intended as a backdoor way of imposing a prison sentence without running afoul of the galatic humanoid rights commission. You'd have to be pretty ballsy to deal those on this station.

As you head towards the door leading out, you dismiss wondering how you could find whoever is distributing those. It wouldn't do you any good. Although it's flattering to think you could seduce whoever it is into throwing all those valuable smuggled backup pills away, you realize that's not very realistic, and with as much as they must be selling for, even you won't be able to afford to buy them out. Hopefully there will still be too few to go around in the coming weeks - you're up to 136 potential pregnancy assists already (a big jump from this morning; seems the girls are frisky on Fridays), not to mention your own handiwork.

Just as you're reaching for the handle of the bathroom door it suddenly swings open inwards. You gasp. This bathroom was supposed to be closed off! But sure enough, it isn't a schoolgirl or even a teacher who comes in - it's a squat, middle-aged mustachioed man! What the hell is he doing in a girl's bathoom...?! Your eyes travel down and see he's wearing blue overalls and carrying a mop.

"'Scuse me, ma'am." the man says dryly. "You didn't see the 'closed for cleaning' sign?" You hear a faint rustle of cloth behind you. In the mirror, you can see that Corrie pulled her feet up off the floor to hide in her bathroom stall.

"Uh... you may want to give this one a minute." you say. "I really made a mess in here. You may want to give it a few minutes to air out," you say, trying to give Corrie an opportunity to slip out.

The janitor looks unimpressed. "Uh huh. I bet." his face is a glower. "Entitled rich bastards always coming here and treating it like their personal brothel. You think I'm stupid, ma'am? Or that I can't smell sex in the air?" He bends over and wipes up some of the jizz that came out of Corrie, and shows how sticky it is between his thumb and forefinger. "And do you know how fast my ass would get fired if one of the few right-minded parents who DON'T come to this academy to fuck their daughters' classmates saw a puddle of cum on the bathroom floor?!"

"That wasn't a puddle!" you protest. "More like a droplet! A glob, maybe!"

"Not to mention," the put-upon man continues, sounding like he's been wanting to get this off his chest for some time, "all these SPOILED LITTLE PRINCESSES," he shouts at the stalls, suggesting Corrie's attempt at hiding didn't fool him for a moment, "doing things like throwing away literally hundreds of unused condoms in a trash bin for some damn reason! If a visiting parent saw a pile of those in the trash when they're throwing away their lunch, who do you think is gonna catch the blame? Their perfect little angels? Or me?" He shakes his head and starts muttering. "Been working here for twenty years now and not once do I get to-" he then catches himself.

All the while, your pussy has been getting even wetter than it was during the earlier fuck. Not because this guy is anything to look at - quite the opposite - but just out of reflex, since you assume his next move is going to be to tell you to get down on your knees or bend over, and going along with it rather than making a fuss seems like the thing to do. Since there was cum on the floor he surely knows you're a futa, but in your experience, surprisingly few guys are bothered by that these days. Pussy is pussy, after all.

But he doesn't. "Whatever." the janitor grumbles dejectedly. "I'll be back in five minutes. Clear out by then and don't bring any more girlfriends here, is that too much to ask?"

Suddenly you feel a strange sensation of sympathy welling up in you. You aren't accustomed to feeling guilty about much of anything, really. Since you started this insane bet you've been wondering if you might have an attack of conscience, but two dozen unhappy co-eds with twats full of your potent cum later, you're nothing but pleased with yourself. And yet something about this situation really tugs at your heartstrings. Twenty years working in a place like this and seeing young women in those midriff-baring outfits flounce past without ever getting any? Being a drop-dead gorgeous futa with both natural and unnatural gifts of seduction, you sometimes forget how hard some people have it. On a nepotistic station like this, such a guy probably has no room for advancement. And unlike the male teachers who have all the pussy they can handle, a mere custodian doesn't have anything the girls want, like better grades or a pass on doing their homework. Such a life must be absolute ****.

"...hold on a minute." you say. "You said there were a lot of unopened condoms in the trash bins?"

"Yeah, why?" the mustachioed janitor raises an eyebrow.

"Were they all in the same place?" you ask. "Like someone threw a big box of them all out at once?"

"What, you think I should report them?" he asks. "No way. I'd get nothing and it would be all my fault. The sorority that sells them probably thinks their chapterhouse is going to be searched and got rid of them. I had to separate them all out so none of the administrators see them. Washed them off with cleaning solution. It stripped the paint off of the wrappers but they're still good. They were a pretty fancy brand too, looked expensive..." he raises an eyebrow.

"Hey," he says in a low voice, a light clearly going off in his head. He leans in to whisper: "You looking to buy some? I know you've got a use for them, you got something extra down there. Like I said, I cleaned them off real good. I'll sell you the whole lot for... uh... call it 1000 credits for all of them. That's barely more than they'd cost in a drugstore."

You think. All in one bin. So that must've been the sorority's remaining supply being thrown out. Guess they got wise to it after all. Even if most of them were off on their field trip, it makes sense they'd leave someone in charge of selling rubbers while they're away. The good news is, if he hasn't been finding them scattered in all the trash cans, the word hasn't gotten around that those already sold were bad. Even so, your days of enjoying the 'St. Applegate snap' are about to come to an end.

Ah well, you shrug. You were getting tired of those getting in the way of the full sensation anyway, this just means your lovers will be playing a little harder to get, knowing it's raw or nothing. You COULD ask this guy to rebuy them and hope that no one will recognize them as the sabotaged kind with the logo worn off and the wrapper color changed to matte silver... but actually, you have a better idea.

"You, uh, don't get much out of working here? Honestly, money isn't that much of a problem for me, but I'm not normally one for charity, either." you say. "In this case, though, I think I could offer you a much better way to get something 'extra' in your hands than to try to sell second-hand condoms." you smile and whisper conspiratorially as you lead him out into the hall, away from Corrie's eavesdropping.

"Here's the truth:" you say quietly. "When I came here to give a guest lecture, while visiting my little sister, I caught her red-handed trying to sell smuggled test answer keys for cheating on the upcoming standardized exams. Naturally, I confiscated them..."

"Oh God!" the janitor hisses, looking over his shoulder. "Tell me you didn't put THOSE in the trash!"

"No, no", you reassure him and hold up your purse. "They're all right here, all of them. I'm leaving this station tomorrow. But... imagine how much those could be worth, if you were to pass them along to the right hands? The right smooth, feminine hands, if you catch my meaning?" You shrug. "Or, you could just dispose of them discretely. Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor by getting rid of them - I don't want to lie point blank to protect my sister, which is why I didn't turn them in to the administrators. But if you're being so poorly 'compensated'... well, I wouldn't blame you. In fact, I could show you the forums my sister was using to advertise them on... students agreed to anonymous meetings constantly, cash in hand, no questions."

You can see the sparkle of interest in the man's eyes. You smirk and continue. "Be careful, though. Some of those manipulative brats might try... y'know... certain tactics to get you to lower the price. My sister is into girls, you see, and I caught her making one of her classmates eat her out for just half off. When I questioned her she admitted she got sexual favors from almost all the ones who bought... even the ones who don't even like girls, the keys are in that much demand!"

A few times, the stocky janitor opens and then closes his mouth. He narrows his eyes. "How much? Don't string me along, just name your price already."

You giggle softly. "Well... maybe one little thing.... since we're bending the rules anyway.... what do you say to letting me hide a camera in one of those private little 'study halls' the students like to go in to have sex after classes? Just until the end of the day today, I'll take it when I leave."

"That's all-" he catches himself and then clears his throat. "That's a pretty big risk you're asking me to take. But... oh I'm not fooling you am I. God, yes! Based on how often I find used rubbers, cum stains and forgotten pairs of panties, the study hall in the Redman Building sees the most action. I'll hide it under the edge of the portrait on the left well and leave it unlocked until 5 minutes before curfew. Give 'em here already."

You chuckle and hand over the small bag of electronic chips discretely. "Oh, and one more thing... do you have any female co-workers in the service staff who like futas?"