Cock Worshipping Class

You rush your way to your next class, flawlessly climbing the stairs two at a time, feeling less **** now that you've finally had time to compose yourself, but still drunk enough to be excited to worship someone's cock for about an hour. You quickly slip inside the classroom, hoping no one notices you're late.

"YOU ARE A USELESS HOLE!" The teacher yells, pointing at you as you walk through the door. You freeze in shock, staring at her like a deer in headlights, recognizing the woman as Bazzle's mother from your visits to his house, forgetting that she teaches at your school. You're suddenly afraid she found out her son gave you piss this morning.

"Ugh, please take your seat, Sarah. I was just getting started on the lecture," Mrs. Jordan says with a sigh, pointing at an empty chair. "Try not to be so late again."

"Sorry..." You say as you walk timidly to your seat, still shaken from getting suddenly yelled at as Mrs. Jordan continues her lecture. You're dismayed to see only women in this class and begin wondering whose cock you're supposed to be worshipping.

"YOU ARE ALL USELESS HOLES!" She shouts again, sweeping her finger dramatically across the classroom of scantily dress young women before writing 'USELESS HOLE' on the whiteboard in big letters.

"I'm sure you've all been called this at one time or another, but let's break down what it really means," she begins, drawing a big circle under the word hole and gesturing to it. "A hole is defined by the absence of something; a lack of a thing to fill it. A hole in the ground that you fill with dirt ceases to be any sort of hole at all, completing its purpose. So if you're all holes, what do you need to complete you?"

"Cock?" One of the suck ups in the front row shouts out after raising her hand.

"Very good!" Mrs. Jordan chirps, drawing a crude penis on the board penetrating the hole she drew earlier, then points at the other word. "So what would make you a useless hole? Anyone?"

"A... lack of cock?" Another girl guesses once the teacher calls on her.

"Exactly! We, as women, were born incomplete! Lacking the one thing that would make us whole from birth! While Men, thankfully, were blessed with the solution to our problems! It's up to us to show our appreciation for changing us from a 'Useless Hole' into a 'Complete Slut', even if temporarily." She crosses out the words 'USELESS HOLE' and writes 'COMPLETE SLUT' over it, drawing an arrow to the picture of a cock in a circle.

"But I thought slut was an insult," someone asks while raising their hand.

"That's a common misconception... What you're thinking of is 'Whore', which is a slut that has the gall to charge money for the honor of being made complete." Mrs. Jordan writes 'SLUT' and 'WHORE' on the board, then 'COMPLIMENT' and 'INSULT' respectively over each to categorize them. "What other pet names have you been called, so we can clear up this misinformation."

"Cunt?" A girl asks.

"Well, you have a cunt don't you?" The teacher retorts and the girl nods. "Clearly whoever called you that was looking to fill it, and I wouldn't call that a bad thing." She writes 'CUNT' in the compliment column. "Anyone else?"

Several hands go up, including your own, wanting to appear more sober by participating in class. Mrs. Jordan writes 'MEATHOLE', 'FUCKTOY', and 'CUMDUMPSTER' as compliments as they are called out.

"What about Cumrag?" Someone asks, stealing what you were going to say, since your friends call you that.

"Does it sound like a bad thing to clean up cum?" She asks rhetorically as she writes it as a compliment, then immediately calls on you. "Sarah?"

"Uh... ummm... Pumpkin?" You say, quickly thinking of something else people call you and blurting out your father's embarrassing pet name for you. Your teacher narrows her eyes.

"Hmm... No... If someone is calling you that they are clearly infantilizing you, not seeing you as a complete slut..." Mrs. Jordan says, writing 'PUMPKIN' on the board under insult. "Doesn't he call you anything else?"

You wrack your brain trying to think of something else your father calls you, yelling out "Urinal?" before you can manage stop yourself. Several stifled giggles ring out as your teacher cocks an eyebrow at you.

"Someone isn't feeding you piss, are they?" She asks, aghast at your sudden admission.

"Oh, no! No! Daddy just does it in my mouth over the toilet... He would never let me swallow it! I just like the taste and, uh, he doesn't want to take his cock out of my mouth so I can be a more complete slut!" You stumble out as an excuse, some how managing to not even lie, since that's exactly what happened to you this morning.

"Oh, wow! He must really love you!" Mrs. Jordan chirps happily, accepting your thin excuse since you managed to bring it back around to her main theme. She reluctantly writes 'URINAL' in the compliment column, even though you basically told her that you lit the joint but didn't inhale.

You breathe a sigh of relief as you begin re-contextualizing the treatment by your father this morning, realizing he's just trying to complete you by keeping his penis inside your useless holes for as long as possible. You start feeling guilty about being so bitter and resentful about it as it was happening. You make a mental note to worship Daddy's cock properly when you get home for being so kind to you.

"What's the longest any of you have been complete? Show of hands: how many of you have been a 'complete slut' for twenty full minutes?" Your teacher asks, moving on to the next part of the lecture after the class runs out of degrading nicknames to sort.

Every girl's hand raises. Even a simple gangbang during your lunch break usually has some random cock pounding into one of your holes for longer than that.

"Forty-five minutes?"

A few hands drop from the more sheltered sluts. Clearly they don't have a loving family at home like you do, you've been double penetrated by them for longer than that, easily.

"How about an hour?"

Half the hands go down, since most guys just want to donate and leave at the end of the day. Yet you can't remember the last time Daddy even spent twenty four full hours without spending at least one of them balls deep inside of you, with no real intention of donating any time soon. Ever since he decided to rid you of your gag reflex by keeping his cock buried in your throat for long periods of time, he has made it a habit to make sure it doesn't come back through long intensive stretching exercises every single day.

"Two hours?"

A few more go down, leaving only the most well-used holes including yourself still raising their hands, even though you're pretty sure Daddy made you a complete slut for more than two hours just this morning alone.

By the time she gets to five hours, yours is the only hand still in the air, but you could have easily kept it up if she had continued on to more than eight; especially after this summer when your father regularly passed out drunk while fucking your throat, peacefully sleeping on the couch with his cock lodged deep in your esophagus all night long. And even that is after you spent the entire evening alternating between slowly sucking out a fresh donation and dutifully holding his balls in your mouth to 'warm up the next dose' with his wet spent cock laying gently on your face, waiting for it to twitch enough to let you know it's time to switch back to blowing him while Daddy absentmindedly watches television.

You beam with pride as every girl looks at you jealously for being the most complete slut in class. The more you think about it, your father and brother seem to be sharing the burden keeping you complete for as long as possible, splitting your free time between them to make sure you're stuffed with their cocks all day long, barely giving you a minute to yourself to bear the shame of being the useless hole you were born. You can hardly believe how ungrateful you've been to them, assuming they were doing it for their own gratification!

"Your homework tonight is to be a more complete slut for longer than you've ever been before! Find a cock worthy of being worshipped by holding it inside you, not for pleasure or medicine, but because it makes you whole!" Mrs. Jordan announces, just before the bell rings. Some girls with quick shot boyfriends and family member groan at the difficulty of convincing them to use one of their holes without cumming for as little as an hour, but you smile happily as you pack your things and get ready to leave, knowing your father will jump at the chance to make you a complete slut for more than a simple five or so hours.

"Sarah, if you could come see me please..." Your teacher requests, just as you pick up your things to leave. You feel like you must have been finally caught being drunk on piss as you walk to the front of the room, but to your surprise, Bazzle's sexy Mother grabs the sides of your head and locks lips with you without warning. She runs her tongue around your mouth, carefully inspecting the favor inside, immediately noticing the distinctly wonderful taste of piss still lingering from when Mr. Dick casually used your stomach as a urinal only about an hour ago.

"I knew it! And it's fresh too!" Mrs. Jordan accuses, even as a long string of saliva still connects your mouths after she breaks the sudden kiss. "You must have gotten have gotten this from school! Are you forcing my son to give you ****?!"

"No, no! It's just left over from when Daddy held my head over the toilet this morning, like I said before! Remember? I just like the taste!" You say, pretty convincingly for how drunk you still feel. It helps that your father actually did do that to you this morning, so you're only lying by omission of the two giant water bottles of piss your friends gave you, not to mention Mr. Dick's pent up bladder.

"Hmph! So you're telling me that if I call your father, he'll verify that he peed in your mouth over the toilet; just to make you hold his penis in you all morning long?" She asks, attempting to call your bluff. Luckily, you're telling the truth, so your face lights up at the prospect of your father being called to verify it, rather than getting scared. A fact that doesn't go unnoticed by your accusatory instructor.

"Yes! You can call Daddy and he'll verify it! He would never let me get drunk at school! I'll give you his work number!" You state with full confidence. Mrs. Jordan wants to not believe you, especially since she didn't detect any of his medicine in your mouth during the inspection, rinsed clean by your homeroom teacher's firehose of a stream, but your behavior is convincing her more than she expected.

"Hmm... Well, give me his number and I'll see if I have time to call him later." She says with a sigh, not really having enough evidence to prove anything anyway. She hands you a pen and paper and you quickly write down his office number, and she gestures towards the door; finally allowing you to leave. "Try not to be late for your next class, at least."

You rush out the door, quickly hustling to your next class with no delay, practically in disbelief that you got away while you're still feeling so drunk. The experience was pretty sobering, but you're still feeling exhilarated, looking forward to your next class.