mandatory classes

The blood drained from Darren’s face so fast he saw spots. "You don’t think… they’ll make me do it with my mum?"

John winced in sympathy, but Billy snorted into his fist. "Fuck, mate. Don’t know what’s worse, being first in class to get wanked off by your mum, or last when she’s exhausted from all the other lads."

John slammed his elbow into Billy’s ribs. "Not fucking funny."

Barry a hulking lad who had been held back a year repeater who smelled vaguely of cheese and Lynx Africa shouldered into their huddle. Without a word, he pulled out a contraband phone (a felony since the Youth Reproductive Security Act) and hit play.

The screen showed a shaky, hip-level view of a clinic booth. Barry’s thick cock dominated the foreground, glistening under fluorescent lights. A woman’s manicured hand worked him methodically. Then the camera tilted up through a hole

and there they were.

Mum’s tits.

Strained against her NHS issued nurse’s uniform, the familiar freckles , the silver locket Dad gave her.

"Oh, you’re such a big boy," Mum’s voice cooed from the speaker, "You must be very proud of this. It’s nice and hard—"

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP.

John’s government-issued chastity monitor lit up like a Christmas tree. "WARNING: ERECTION DETECTED. UNAUTHORIZED EJACULATION IS A CLASS 3 OFFENSE."

The group erupted. "Oi, oi! Johnny-boy’s got a stiffy for Darren’s mum!"

"Fuck off!" John’s face matched the alarm’s red glow. "That’s just biology!"

Darren didn’t hear the rest. He was already bolting toward the school office.

He opened the door and was greeted by Mrs. Greeves, 70 if she was a day, her face permanently locked in a expression of someone sniffing expired milk, didn’t look up from her crossword.

"Mr. Callahan. To what do I owe this interruption?"

Darren leaned in, whispering: "Miss, I can’t go to the clinic today. Got a groin strain. Football last night."

Greeves’ pen froze. Then, with the theatrical projection of a Shakespearean actor:

"YOU CAN’T GO? AND WHY NOT?"

Heads turned. Darren wished for spontaneous combustion.

Greeves finally lowered her voice to a sadistic purr. "Since all male staff, including your pathetic excuse for a PE teacher, are currently at the clinic doing their duty… you’ll join the girls’ class."

Darren’s stomach dropped. "But last time—"

"Exceptional circumstances," she said, savouring each syllable. "Unless you’d prefer I call your mother? Oh wait—" A skeletal smile. "She’s busy."

Darren's head dropped and he left the room, he walked to the opposite end of the school.

Since the implementation of the new restrictions male and female students had been separated so that there would be no illegal activities, all boys were fitted with a anti-excitement device which monitored their penile movements and the girls had taken great pleasure in tormenting them.

Darren had seen on the news that it had been global issue where females had taken pleasure in getting men sexually excited and in **** cases caused them to ejaculate resulting in the mandatory chastity punishment devices.

He pushed open the door.

The girls’ classroom smelled like vanilla body spray and impending doom.

All eyes locked onto Darren as he shuffled in. At the front, Mrs. Blanch, 6’2" of sculpted Nigerian elegance, her tailored blouse definitely missing two buttons pursed her lips.

"Ah. The stray," she said, her accent curling around the word like smoke. She pointed to a desk dead-centre in the room. "Sit."

Darren had never been more aware of his own heartbeat. The girls’ whispers were razor blades:

"That’s the one whose mum works Clinic 9…"

"I heard she gives extra attention to sixth-formers…"

"D’you think he's done it with her?"

Mrs. Blanch stalked to his desk, leaned down until her cleavage hovered inches from his nose, and murmured: "You’re playing a very dangerous game, boy." Then louder, to the class: "Change of lesson! Per new guidelines, if any of you want to work at the clinic…"

She yanked a rolling tray from the supply closet. On it: latex gloves, a tub of lube, and Christ a life-sized anatomical model of a penis.

"Today, we practice extraction techniques." Her smile was all teeth. "Volunteers?"

Every girl’s hand shot up.