Day 2 Class 3

Noah shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Professor Schlong strode into the lecture hall of SUP's Physiology of Dominance class, DOM 205. At 18, Noah was still naive about what true male virility entailed. The professor, an imposing figure with salt-and-pepper hair, launched into his presentation without preamble.

Images of supple female forms in various states of undress and compromising positions flashed across the screen behind him. Noah blushed and averted his eyes, unused to such explicit material. Professor Schlong droned on in a gravelly voice:

"Gentlemen, we've gathered here today to discuss the true markers of male dominance. It's not your bank account, your car, or your job title. No, those are trappings any poser can acquire. Real power stems from one thing and one thing only - the size of your package."

A low murmur rippled through the classroom. Noah glanced around at his classmates, most of whom looked equally confused and uneasy.

"Listen up," Schlong barked, cutting through the chatter. "If you're hung, dominance is simply a part of who you are. But the smaller your prick, the more you'll have to **** the issue through domineering, ****, or just ignorance. I know most of you greenhorn freshmen are clueless about what dick size really means. Well, class - it's time to put you to the test."

He clapped his hands together and a hush fell. "Please welcome my discrimination assistants to the stage - Aimee, Josie, Karlee!"

Three stunning young women in tight white tank tops and skin-tight jeans sauntered in, all with blonde hair, ample chests, and cocked hips.

"Now, listen carefully," Schlong commanded as all eyes-fixated on the ladies. "Boys, strip. It's measuring time. If you don't impress, you're out of my class. No exceptions."

Noah's palms began to sweat. He watched as his classmates hesitantly removed their shirts, then pants. Some had respectable endowments. Others were pitifully small in his opinion. When it was Noah's turn, he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

One of the assistants, a knockout with long legs and pink hair, looked him up and down with an appraising eye. She uncoiled a measuring tape and wrapped it around his member. '19.69 cm and 13 cm,' she called out. "He makes the cut."

Schlong gave a curt nod. "Fine. Get dressed and take a seat."

As the other boys filed through, Noah noticed a correlation - the hung ones were invited to stay, the others dismissed from the class with a smirk. Those deemed inadequate shuffled out, shamefaced.

Schlong waited until everyone was settled before addressing the remaining students: "Welcome to DOM 205. You gentlemen have what it takes." He nodded at the assistants. "The ladies here will be your guides to manhood over the next few months. You'll learn the art of dominance and how to use your gifts to get what you want."

Noah felt a thrill of excitement mixed with apprehension. He knew his life was about to change in ways he couldn't yet fathom. The pink-haired assistant was looking at him with a smoldering gaze.

"Hey handsome," she leaned in to whisper in his ear, her breath tickling his skin. "I'm Aimee. I'll be your personal instructor...in more ways than one." Her hand brushed against his crotch. "Let's meet up later and I'll give you a private lesson, stud."

Noah swallowed hard, face flushing, as Aimee gave his bulge a parting squeeze before sauntering away. What had he gotten himself into? One thing was certain - he'd never look at the world, or women, the same way again. DOM 205 was only the beginning of his journey into manhood.