Sit their lessons through

"The correct greeting for a Slutwife to offer anyone they meet is 'Hello Sir or Ma'am, how may I service you?'. This should always be said in a bright and cheerful tone, not sullied with sarcasm or impatience... even if you are in a rush to be somewhere."

The grey-bearded man who was speaking was NOT who Jesse had expected to be leading their first lesson in 'Slutwife etiquette'. Well dressed, but drily spoken, he seemed more like your average history teacher or possibly the butler to a high class residence… than someone who would unveil the polite and correct order to suck several cocks at once in a gang-bang situation.

"If uncertain as to the person's preferred gender pronouns, you may offer both… However, should this cause offence, you should expect and accept any just punishment they might choose to dish out."

The teen shuffled uncomfortably in the seat of his old-fashioned, wooden desk. Sitting on top of the metal plug that was currently buried deep inside him added a whole extra level to its presence. The desks were also spaced out at almost exactly the furthest possible extension that the chain connecting him to the three other members of his group, could reach. This meant that any slight movement by any of them could cause a rippling chain reaction of red faces and caught breaths. Jesse was worried that his wriggling inexperience in carrying such a burden, was causing more of these than anyone else.

"A Slutwife never refuses anyone who replies positively to that invitation... If she is in a rush to run an errand for her current master, then she must simply endeavour to service this secondary party as quickly as possible. Try to ensure any fluids produced are deposited internally, so as to keep yourself pristine… and make no mention of the event when you do manage to return. Should your master choose to punish you for tardiness caused in this fashion, that is his or her right; and obviously you should accept the lesson gratefully."

The sticky summer heat of the classroom was really starting to get to Jesse, combined with the multiple alien layers of discomfort and humiliation here. He was painfully aware that the front flap of his tartan skirt had been being tented out by at least a half-mast erection for the entire time he'd been sat here. The rough grain of the seat against his bare backside. The ever shifting lump pressing up toward his stomach. The ridiculously skimpy outfit worn by him and all the other beautiful strangers around him and this endlessly rolled out list of rules, all of which just seemed to lead to you being punished for things beyond your control… It all added up to make his head swim and heart thump up around his ears.

"However, should you be accosted by a whole group of lower class parties… I would advise you gather as much evidence upon yourself as possible, to prove to your master that a greater delay was unavoidable. Torn clothing and bodily stains are not necessarily badges of shame for a young Slutwife, after all… but also signs of her worth as seen by society at large. In fact, some masters may see fit to punish you if you don't look something of a state by the end of the day. Avoiding your duties being a very serious malefaction that should never even be put forward as a possibility."

It was all getting too much for Jesse. He had to get out for some fresh air. The butt-plug was pushing up against his bladder and making him **** for a piss, but the constant sense of arousal jarred heavily against that need. Eventually, there was little choice but to jam his hand up in the air…

"Sir, I'm sorry- but may I go to the bathroom!"

The old teacher was clearly sympathetic when he saw the desperation on the teens face… but seemed incapable of doing anything quickly.

"Hmmm… well I should warn you that, under normal circumstances, you would just be instructed to relieve yourself in your chair… and clean up thoroughly afterwards. But, since this is your first day… Very well. Your group is dismissed for a moment. Be quick!"

Jesse hadn't even considered the fact that his companions would have to come too. He flashed them a guilty look, but all were already standing… and none seemed particularly upset with the idea.