"I'm walking"

"I'm walking" the boy said, "Denise made me late last week. I can't be late."

His mother made a face, but waved him on. He darted out the door and began the 30 minute walk to his tutor's house[.

It was a beautiful summer day outside, the warm breeze sweeping through Alex's red hair and thin frame as he power-walked his way down the street. The new ring he was wearing on his middle finger felt heavier than it had for the last 3 days. It was a simple ring made out of what looked like twisted roots. The herbalist assured him that as long as he wore the ring, his memory would not fade, but there were a few side effects. She claimed that because of his talents and speed reading, his libido would fluctuate greatly when absorbing such large amounts new data. Alex thought nothing of it when he made the purchase; he was an 18 year old guy with sex in his head half the day anyway, how bad could it be? He tested the ring a few times before his tutoring session, re-reading parts of his history and math books. At first he didn't feel anything, but within a few minutes of finishing his reading, his cock began to swell and his chest flushed red. A simple masturbation session did the trick for a chapter or two, but if he wanted to cover a whole book--which he could do in less than an hour-- he found himself painfully turned on for hours afterward. No amount of masturbation would sate him and he grew ****, trying at first to sleep it off, but that just lead to even more torturous dreams of lust. After 12 hours, he could finally leave his bedroom without fear of saluting his whole family without cause.

After three turns and 15 minutes of power walking, he slowed his pace. Alex didn't spend much time outdoors, so he had to pay extra attention to the street names to know where to turn even though he'd already been to the tutor's house a couple times before. After 25 minutes outside, he was regretting his decision to walk; his pale skin was already starting to turn pink in the hot sun wherever it was exposed, and he hated sweating. He cursed his genes under his breath and drank from his water bottle.

Mr. Richards scanned the bookcase in his study, looking for the material that he was covering with the boy the week before. Once he found it, he pulled it off the shelf and placed it on the desk next to the other books he had for this session. After 4 weeks of studying, the professor needed to test the boy's memory from the week before. He actually had to re-request tests and grading keys for the books he had presently on the table, to keep both of them honest. Despite his general pessimism about the situation, he wanted to see some progress for the boy's sake. He didn't want to turn him away, but he couldn't keep wasting time. The professor sighed heavily. A frantic knock at the door let him know that Alex had arrived. Of all the social skills the boy lacked, a decent knock was one that bothered Mr. Richards.

"Welcome Alex," The professor said, opening the door and extending a hand in greeting, "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm good!" Alex was very nervous, unsure of how he would tell his tutor of his new solution, "I think I've made some hurdles with my condition"

Mr. Richards' eyebrows arched up. "Well let's get started then!"