Bounces on bed-springs

The next morning… Jesse was dragged back into consciousness by the beeping of another alarm…

Betsy was still on top of him. In fact… he could still feel his wilted self jammed up inside of her; stewing in the warmth and juices still flowing after the night they had just spent together. True to her word… the girl had not stopped fucking herself upon him until every climax he reached was nothing but a sore and fluid-less expulsion. True to her obsessively-organised nature, she had managed this by scheduling an alarm almost every hour from darkness till dawn. Jesse had simply been blearily dredged awake to find himself once again being rebounded off of the bed-springs by her bucking hips. Unable to respond with anything more than yawning compliance as she dragged another orgasm from him before they both collapsed back into dreamless oblivion.

This alarm was his own though… and signified he only had an hour before he had to be on the Maglev, out towards his new place of education. Squeezing out from under his best friend’s gently snoring form, he felt himself pull free of her at last. His poor, little cock gasping at the cold morning air. Not bothering to put on clothes, he wandered down the corridor to the shower block… Home-23 somehow no longer felt like a place where privacy mattered much.

Returning to the bedroom, feeling a little better at least… he found Betsy up and about at last. She was shuffling around with her own preparations, but had laid out the new uniform which had arrived for him fully laundered. He barely had a chance to glance at it before she was upon him: Kneeling him down beside the bed so she could do his hair and apply a little makeup. His shoulder-length, brown locks were swiftly twisted into a smart side-plait. A small amount of blush was added to his cheeks and thin, dark eyeliner carefully applied to draw out his naturally-striking features. Normally he quite enjoyed the focused efficiency of Betsy’s attentions over his personal appearance. But today… he couldn’t help remembering what she had mentioned yesterday about boys not wearing skirts once. Was everything about his physical outlook part of what led the algorithm to its conclusions… Or set up by the system, after having already made those conclusions. How much of Betsy’s love had been factored into all those calculations? Was any of it real?

All of this raced through the teen’s head as he was pulled back upright and handed a pair of lacy, white panties. Sure enough… they were the ones she’d worn yesterday.

“Wow… that’s really no more than a big belt…” His smirking roommate stated, admiring the pleated, tartan skirt he had been assigned. “And I guess they want your cute, little belly button on display at all times…”

The white-collared ‘shirt’ was little better, ending far above his midriff and with a tie that really didn’t achieve much besides drawing attention to the opening below his neck where his cleavage would be… if he had any. Long, gartered socks that reached up to his thighs and a paired of distinctly-heeled black shoes completed the ensemble. Jesse was beginning to become very nervous about the type of school he was about to be attending… but Betsy practically gleamed with pride and excitement.

“Oh I wish I could be there when they line you all up! I bet all the others in your class will be just as gorgeous! It’s such a well-known school. I’m so glad the algorithm was clever enough to recognise you belong there! Oooooh, I just want to start making babies with you all over again!”

This last one came out as practically a squeal… which Jesse was sure would have been audible down the corridor. He quickly gathered his things in order to leave before she actually couldn’t restrain herself. There was no time anyway… the Maglev would be at the station any minute, and he wasn’t used to walking in these strange, high-heeled shoes. He wobbled down the corridor, trying to avoid any eyes that poked their heads around bedroom doors. Everyone else was busy prepping for their first days too, so there was little risk of hassle. But, he did think he heard a wolf-whistle as he signed himself out from the entrance and stepped out into glorious sunshine.