It was blockbuster news in the field of women’s medicine: in a large clinical study, women randomly assigned to consume 60 cc of semen daily, by mouth, for 6 months experienced less aging of the skin, looked younger, and weighed an average of 7 pounds less than women given 60 cc of a liquid placebo. Now, long-time high school Principal Josef Oliver Stanton III stood at the window of his office, looking down 3 storeys to the stream of buses and students arriving for the first day of a new school year. His eyes flitted between the various young women he saw, whom he knew all were waiting anxiously to ‘hear the news’ at the upcoming school assembly, due to start in 45 minutes.
He chuckled. Virtually all the senior girls seemed to have taken extra time and efforts to dress and fix their hair and make-up on this morning. He could see all the purple and deep pink eye shadow even from this distance. They all wanted to look their best. And why not? This news he was about to give them was big news… news that could influence their entire senior year.
Of course, every one of them had heard about the school having been chosen to participate in the next phase of the Semen for Women Study. Having answered the question – does consumed semen slow aging in women and help them lose weight? – two obvious next questions to address were (1) whether or not there was any added benefit to a woman to a woman actually dropping to her knees to earn her semen, versus just taking four tablespoons from a bottle; and (2) how young a woman could be to start to obtain any benefit. Being the largest high school in town, with over 2500 students and more than 300 girls age 18 or older as of September 1st, this school had been an obvious choice to participate. The question on everyone’s mind heading to assembly, of course, was which group would the girls at this school be in… would they be receiving their semen from a tablespoon… or from the tap itself? From the way every eligible girl was dressed, it was obvious to Mr. Stanner that the girls had made a unanimous choice for ‘active’ (versus ‘passive’) treatment; but what had the study administrators decided?
Mr. Stanner glanced at his desk and chuckled again. He already knew the good news. There lay a box filled with 312 envelopes, one for each and every girl age 18 and over, including 3 girls who were celebrating their 18th birthday today, giving each girl her ‘assignments’ for the week – specifically where to go… and who to blow?
The entire school attended this assembly, because everyone needed to hear what was going on. It would, after all, affect far more than the 312 girls on the treatment list. Every girl who turned 18 over the course of the year, and was deemed attractive enough to meet the eligibility criteria, would be entered into the study as of her 18th birthday. Each and every boy who was or would be turning 18 that year needed to hear, so he could ‘volunteer’ for the girls, if needed. Every male teacher needed to hear so they could make themselves available. Even the janitors needed to schedule time to be free. In addition, since an executive decision had been made by the study designers that 30 blowjobs would be necessary to guarantee at least 60 cc of semen swallowed, the girls would need to have their afternoons freed up from classes each day. Consequently, all these girls would take their regular classes from 8:10 through 1:00; and then they’d be loaded onto buses or would otherwise walk to wherever they were assigned for that week. Luckily, in addition to the 500 or so eligible men at the school itself, there were several great sources of semen for the girls all very close by. Mr. Stanner had made a big point of emphasizing all of this when he had met with the Semen for Women Study administrative board. First, there was an all men’s college with over 4500 students, just two miles down the road. Second, there was a naval academy with over 1500 recruits and officers. Third, satisfying the board’s wish for a broad representation of sperm, there was a major seniors apartment complex, from which the school already had had 417 men sign up to offer their services. But perhaps the ace-in-the-hole that had swung the board’s decision in the school’s favour was that Mr. Stanner had personally met with and obtained written support from over 25 local pumps, all of whom had agreed to ‘put the girls to work’ on the street and in Escort houses, as needed, to keep girls busy in the evenings and on weekends. The principal remembered one older woman on the panel, in dark-rimmed glasses and a white coat, asking him if he was confident that these pimps would generate enough blowjobs for the girls.
“They all guaranteed keeping the girls on their knees at least 50 minutes of every hour,” he answered. “There’s no vaginal fucking, so virtually all the clients want oral or ass-to-mouth and end up emptying their loads in the girl’s mouth.”
The whole committee nodded its approval.
“Excellent,” the chief investigator said. “Excellent.”
And so it was that as Mr. Stanner’s eyes scanned the assembly hall, his eyes settled on certain girls whose envelopes he’d already peeked into; and he marvelled at how the girls’ choice of outfits seemed to indicate an instinct as to what they’d be doing that day and where.
For example, Brooke Adams was a pretty blonde who would start this week at the naval academy. Each day, she’d board the bus with about 60 of her colleagues to travel the five or so minutes to that facility, where the girls would be divided up into groups of five and led to various lounges, gyms, dining halls and even outdoor locations to kneel and receive their treatments. Mr. Stanner nodded and smiled. As luck would have it, Brooke was wearing skin tight, white shorts and a light blue top, which would match perfectly the navy’s white uniforms with blue trim… very cute!
Stephanie Taylor was all eyes on Mr. Stanner. This pretty girl with a long, light brown ponytail would be spending her afternoons this week at the men’s college. She was wearing tight, dark blue 5-pocket jeans and a tight light yellow sweater today, which would be perfect because she was slated to kneel in the college’s main quad outside, and it was supposed to be a bit cooler today. Meanwhile, Kimberly Henry was a gorgeous blonde who would be servicing 30 seniors today; and she was very nicely dressed in a lovely, lavender-coloured satin blouse, black dress pants, and heels. He would definitely ask to see her in his office before she left, he thought to himself, to give her some ‘personal practical instruction’ on how to handle a senior.
And then there was Katie Stanner, whose pleading eyes and pouting lips he’d had to ignore that morning at the breakfast table, because she was so anxious to know. He knew that Katie and her mom had even gone shopping the day before to buy the nice designer jeans, pink top and black heels she now was wearing. And then she had gotten up 2 hours early to make sure her make-up was perfect in the mirror.
“Just wink if it’s good news,” she said over her Cheerios, smiling sweetly with her ruby red lips.
But he had had to shake his head. “Even I don’t know yet,” he lied.
Now in the assembly hall, she too was looking right at him, and he was so, so tempted to wink. She and a couple of others would be starting their treatments right on campus with the football team and a list of coaches and teachers. He himself could never officially be on her list; but it was fair game for him to stop by and visit with professors Katie was with, and bring his camera. And all these four girls had been assigned a pimp for the weekend, starting Friday night. He glanced at Katie again. He couldn’t wait for Friday night to arrive, to see Katie standing on a street corner downtown in even tighter jeans than she was wearing now, excitedly waiting for business.
Finally, the time came for him to stand up.
“First of all,” he said, “I would like to welcome every one of you back to school; and of course, I’d like to welcome all new students; and to say that I hope that every one of you has a wonderful year.” Then he smiled: “I think the entire campus is in for some extra fun this year.”
To say that the cheers were deafening might be an exaggeration; but it would not be overstating it to say that many girls and guys were out of their seats, virtually every one of the eligible girls hugging each other and laughing with joy.
It was almost a festive atmosphere from then on, as each of the 312 girls was invited up, one at a time, to receive her envelope. There was more giggling and hugging in the seats as girls opened their letters to see what fun was in store for them. Mr. S. then explained that, in subsequent weeks, the girls would need to pick up their weekly assignments from the main office.
“No stampedes now,” he said, smiling, and everyone laughed.
But then Mr. Stanner got serious for a moment. “Now ladies,” he said. “You must remember, each and every day, that you represent our school when you are off campus. So we want you to always be clean and dress nicely, following the school dress code; be polite; and be sure to finish the full treatment every day. If, for some reason, you cannot come to school or participate in treatment, you must have a doctor’s note and let us know, so we can make other arrangements.”
A hand shot up. It was Kimberley’s.
“Yes, Kim.”
“Are we responsible for getting ourselves to treatments on weekends?”
Mr. Stanner nodded. “Yes. But if you can’t get there, let me know in advance, so we can arrange a pick-up for you. The study has given us funds to cover everything like this.”
Another hand.
“Yes, Stacey.”
“Can we still blow our boyfriends?”
The audience laughed, as did Mr. Stanner.
“We encourage all the girls to enjoy all their regular activities.” He then paused and scanned the room for more questions, but there were none.
“Okay. That’s all for now. But could Kimberley Henry and all the other girls slated for the senior’s apartments please come by my office at noon today.”
“Ooooohhhhhh,” the crowd said, in fun.
Mr. Stanner was talking with his secretary, old Mrs. Munce, when Kim and fifteen others arrived. Again, the old principal noted how nice Kim looked in her black pants, lavender satin blouse and broad, black heels.
“I just wanted to talk to you girls a little bit about how to handle the seniors,” he said, stepping out into the hall and leaning against the wall.
The sixteen girls all nodded.
“There are a few things you should be aware of. First, be gentle. If your man wants to be a bit rough, that’s fine. But you should be gentle so you don’t hurt him. Some of these men have arthritis in their hips and so on. Second, always be respectful. Don’t complain if some old guy pees in your mouth. Just swallow and keep working until you get what you need.”
The girls nodded again.
“And finally, always look especially nice for these old guys.” He looked at Kim. “Kim, you look unbelievable today.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“The rest of you look good too; but maybe dress a bit more formally with these old guys. Us old farts generally appreciate it.”
“Should we not wear jeans of shorts?” a girl named Lana asked.
“Jeans or shorts are fine; but make sure they’re nice and wear a nice top with them.”
Then he looked at them and smiled.
“Now gather round and drop to your knees. Kim… you kneel right here in front.”
Ultimately, all the girls got to take Mr. Stanner into their mouths for at least a minute or two; but it was Kim who received the first official dose of treatment, several juicy cc of cum that she swallowed hungrily. Mr. Stanner had arranged for the YearBook photographer to pop by as well, so the YearBook cover ultimately would have a picture of Kim on it, her mouth wrapped around Mr. Stanner’s cock as she peered into the camera to signal the official start of the school’s participation in the study and the start of the 2009/2010 school year. This picture also would serve as the main promotional picture for the study, chosen not only because of how pretty Kim looked, but also because of how much she appeared to be enjoying herself. All this made Kim and her whole family extremely proud.
“Now don’t miss your bus, girls,” Mr. Stanner said, once the girls all had stood up again.
The girls smiled, thanked their principal, and headed off to catch the van that was transporting them to the seniors’ complex in just over 20 minutes.
The study provided the school with 9 buses to transport all the girls to where they needed to be: 5 destined for the men’s college, three for the naval academy, and one for the seniors apartments. Mr. Stanner left his office to mingle among the girls boarding the buses on that first day, wishing them all luck. While waiting for one o’clock to arrive, one of Katie’s friends, a cute Chinese girl named Amy, had Mr. Stanner on her list, so she kneeled to blow him right then and there. Mr. Stanner’s eyes marvelled at how lovely all the girls looked. It was obvious that they all had been excited about this day, for they all had had their hair done, and had make-up on, and were wearing flattering outfits. Some still had little mirrors out, freshening up their eye-shadow and lipstick. And, even though high heels technically were not part of the dress code, Mr. S. had sent a letter home over the summer saying that they were permissible, on that first day, pending the results of the school’s assignment… to active versus passive treatment. So, most of the girls wore high heels. A horrific thought popped into his head; how devastated would the whole school have been had he had to hand out bottle instead of envelopes that morning? Luckily, that hadn’t happened, so there was joy everywhere.
As the last 15 minutes before nine ticked away, each of the 9 bus drivers had an assigned girl attached at the groin, blowing him over those last few minutes before the buses were due to depart. Brooke Adams was one of those girls, kneeling right outside the first bus in line near the left front tire, as the driver leaned back against the vehicle for a quick smoke.
Mr. Stanner couldn’t help but notice Brooke, what with her beautiful long blonde hair swaying back and forth with each bob of her head, and the exquisite tightness of her white short shorts as she leaned into her driver. So, when Amy swallowed his load with still 5 or so minutes left before nine, he sauntered over to where Brooke was just swallowing her load. What she noticed was a hand on her shoulder, gently preventing her from rising up from her knees. Then, Mr. Stanner was before her and she just glanced up at him. Did he want her to…?
He winked, in that same paternal way a father or grandfather might wink; and she knew just what to do. Any extra blowjob beyond her assigned thirty was perfectly okay with the study protocol, and with every one of the girls.
“Look here, Brooke,” the YearBook photographer said, after Brooke had latched on to her principal.
“Hmm hmmm?” she asked, staring right into the camera.
“Now show me that cute little ass of yours.”
And Brooke playfully angled her bum towards the camera.
“Hmm hmmm?” she asked again.
“Perrrrrfect!” the boy with the camera said; admiring, like so many others, the tightness of Brooke’s short shorts as they hugged both her cheeks.
Meanwhile, Katie Stanner was already on her way to see the first person on her list, Mr. Aldershot, who was teaching Math on the second floor. When Katie arrived, his door was closed and she could see that he was in front of a full class. But her list told her to see him at 1 p.m., and it was one o’clock now. Timidly, she knocked on his door. He stopped talking to the class and glanced her way. Smiling, he waved her in. He knew why she was here.
“Class,” he said. “I’m sure you all know Miss Stanner.”
Then, he turned back to her. “Come in child,” he said, gesturing for her to step all the way into the room.
Katie entered as Mr. A. leaned up against the side of his desk and undid his zipper.
“Come in,” he encouraged her again.
Katie had never given a blowjob in public before… and certainly never in front of a full classroom of her peers. But she knew she’d never hear the end of it if she didn’t follow through with her treatment; so she swallowed hard, strode across the room to where Mr. Aldershot was, and kneeled at his feet. His cock was already hard and waiting for her.
“You won’t disturb me,” he told her.
She glanced up at him and then out at the class watching her… and then towards the professor’s groin and the rigid piece of meat awaiting her. She took a deep breath, parted her lips, and then quickly leaned forward to take him deep inside her mouth.
“Okay,” Mr. A. resumed. “Who can tell me what is meant by the term ‘precision’?”
Later, Katie would hardly remember what happened. She remembered Mr. A. taking her head in his two hands from time to time, and then slamming his pelvis into her face like he was trying to drive a nail home. She’d sputter and gag a bit; but then he’d stop and she’d resume her slow rhythmic sucking.
At one point, he asked the class if anyone had any questions, and someone raised her hand.
“Yes, Angela.”
“I just wanted to ask Katie what you taste like.”
Mr. A. laughed.
“What do you think, Katie? How do I taste?”
“Hmm hmmm,” Katie answered, giving a ‘thumbs up’ sign.
“Any other questions?” Mr. A. asked.
Another hand shot up.
“How deep can Katie take you?”
Mr. A. was all over that one. “Well, now. That would be a great thing to measure, wouldn’t it; given that we are talking all about measurement accuracy and precision?”
And so Katie became part of a fun classroom experiment.
Soon, the whole class had gathered round, with one student holding a ruler; another, a calculator; and a third, pen and paper.
“Let’s measure my penis first,” Mr. A. said. And this was done. “Eight point two inches. Now, let’s measure it two more times and write everything down.”
“Now, open your mouth as wide as you can, Katie, and let’s stuff me as far down as we can.”
Poor Katie found herself doing everything she could not to puke, while the student with the ruler took three separate measurements.
“Take your time,” the teacher instructed. “Make sure you line up everything carefully.”
Katie gasped when finally the professor pulled back. But he wanted to repeat everything two more times; so he drove himself down her throat again for more measurements; and then one more time after that, this final time really forcing his way as far down her throat as he could. Poor Katie had tears in her eyes.
“Now,” he said, starting to face fuck Katie; “everyone go back to your desk and see if you can figure out the means, variances and standard deviations for the two measurements; and then let us see how to calculate the difference and 95% confidence intervals for the difference between them.”
Katie would have to wait until the next day to find out the answer; because Mr. A. shot his load soon after this and she was already a few minutes late for her 1:15 appointment with Mr. Mullen in his classroom. But she would find out the next day, and word soon would spread like wildfire that the principal’s daughter could deep throat 6.92 +/- 0.14 inches.
Of course, Stephanie was on one of the 5 buses for the men’s college. The driver explained to the girls on her bus that he would be dropping them off in the main quad of the college, right in front of the Student Union Building.
“Are all the busses going there?” someone asked.
“No,” he explained. “Another bus is headed to the gym and then the football, soccer and baseball fields. One will drop girls off at the main dining hall, at a couple of the main classroom buildings where the professors have offices, and at the power plant.”
“Who will they see there?”
“Workers. Some of the girls will blow workers today.”
“Teachers too?”
“Of course. And then the last two buses will drop girls off at the various dorms.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. You girls will all get to rotate through all of these places, several times, before the year is through.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see several girls smiling, laughing and high-fiving each other.
“Anyway, in the quad, you will all be met by Ms. Anderson, one of the college deans, who would introduce each of you to your ‘assignment group’. “
“What’s an assignment group?” a girl in back called out.
The bus driver smiled and shook his head. “It’s the 30 or so guys you’re each going to blow.”
All the girls laughed now.
“Just listen to Ms. Anderson,” the driver added. “She’ll get you started right.”
Shortly after this, they arrived on campus, and the huge sports complex, identified by a large sign that read ‘Home of the Giants’, was the first thing they passed. In fact, Stephanie was a bit relieved that she wasn’t going to have to start by blowing 30 huge, black football players, or 6 foot 8 inch basketball players, and was just going to start with normal college boys. Of course, she desperately wanted these other challenges a little later, but not on the first day. She was amazed, however, when her bus finally rounded a corner and see saw just how filled with people the college quad was. Literally, there were thousands of people – not only students, but teachers, and parents, reporters, and cameramen. She looked nervously at her friends on the bus and giggled.
“Wowwww!” she said, quietly.
Her bus pulled up behind two others, and the girls quickly filed out. Again, the swarm of people astounded them; and music was blaring through loud speakers. It was so festive; like being at some huge outdoor rock festival. In fact, it even seemed to be live music… and wasn’t that a stage off in the distance?
As patiently as teenagers could be, the girls waited for Ms. Anderson. Finally, she finished with the two buses that were ahead of them and stood in front of their group. Ms. Anderson was a gorgeous but studious-looking blonde in a white blouse, short black skirt, heels and glasses. Several of the girls were envious of her perfect skin and slim, but sexy figure.
“Okay girls,” she called out. “I’m going to call your names out in groups of three. When I do, I want you to follow me, and the rest of you wait until I get back.”
Stephanie was alone as the last girl chosen.
“We have a little bit of a walk,” Ms. Anderson explained.
As Stephanie followed her, the teen couldn’t help but glance this way and that as she passed various classmates already on their knees having started, waving to a couple of good friends on the way. Their mouths too busy to say anything, but they nonetheless waved back.
She also couldn’t help but notice that the music was getting louder, and that there was a stage, and they were walking right towards it. Finally, they were coming right up to it.
“Up here,” Ms. Anderson said, as she quickly climbed the stairs leading onto the stage. Tentatively, Stephanie followed.
The music stopped and Ms. Anderson took the microphone.
“First of all,” she said loudly. “I want to welcome all of you to the first day of this historical event. As a woman, I must say that I am proud, relieved and excited that researchers are finally taking a serious look at the issue of aging in women; and I am thrilled that we all can be a part of it.”
Stephanie gazed out at the crowd. Even girls on their knees with cocks in their mouths were watching Ms. Anderson attentively and clapping their hands.
Ms. Anderson continued: “I especially want to thank all the young ladies from St. George’s School for joining us for some afternoon fun for the next 40 weeks. I trust our boys will make sure they are clean and tasty for all of you.”
There was general laughter.
“I have up here with me one very lucky girl who, along with me, will be helping to thank the musicians and the dozens and dozens of others who have helped to make this first day a success, and will continue to help throughout this vital first week… from our beloved school president, to the grounds crew and janitors, and everyone in between.”
Cheers and applause filled the quad again.
“But first, I want our school’s founder to come forward. Mr. Heatherington? Where are you?”
Stephanie’s craned her eyes to see who Mr. Heatherington was, expecting some old fart standing 5 foot 2. As it turns out, he was old - at least 80 – but he still looked quite viral. And, even stooped over a little bit, he stood at least 6 foot 6. Ms. Anderson glanced over towards Stephanie and saw her stunned reaction as Mr. H. mounted the stage.
“Yes, Stephanie,” she said, knowingly. “There is a reason why we call all our sports teams the Giants.”
General laughter.
“Come here, Stephanie,” Ms. Anderson instructed her. Stephanie timidly stepped forward. “Mr. Heatherington… I’d like you to meet Miss Stehanie Taylor.”
The old man in a suit held out his hand, and when Stephanie’s hand reached out, he took it, slowly brought it to his mouth and kissed it.
‘What a nice old man!’ Stephanie thought to herself as she felt Ms. Anderson’s hand on her shoulder, pushing her down to her knees.
The old man before her was so tall, she had to kneel fully upright to reach his zipper, but she instinctively knew what to do, even remembering to brush the seat of her jeans quickly with her hands to make sure there was no dirt or lint on it. She was wearing brand new jeans and desperately wanted them to look nice.
The crowd’s cheers were tumultuous. But even through all that noise, she could here the sound of hundreds of cameras going off, many of them very, very close – and she could sense the hundreds of camera flashes even though her eyes were fixed on undoing the belt and zipper before her. The old man had to help pull his penis out; and when he did, it was huge. Stephanie couldn’t help but chuckle inside. So much for avoiding huge cocks on her first day!
Stephanie’s big brown eyes peered up at the old man staring down at her, and he and she both smiled.
“Hi” she mouthed silently.
He winked.
And then the girl leaned forward with her mouth open and slowly, ever slowly – to capture all the excitement of the moment – she leaned forward and took that humungous old cock in front of her inside her mouth. When she finally clamped her lips down onto it, with at least 4 inches of cock inside her mouth, the ovation she received was deafening. Even Ms. Anderson was clapping.
“Well done, Stephanie,” the pretty dean said quietly as the teen posed for hundreds of pictures before proceeding.
The band started to play again and Stephanie started to suck. Soon, she noticed that Ms. Anderson was on her knees too, blowing a big burly guy she assumed must be the school’s President. Stephanie’s and Ms. Anderson’s eyes met and silent recognition passed between them. Things were proceeding wonderfully.
Later, Stephanie got an unexpected treat when sexy Ms. Anderson leaned forward onto all fours to start having her mouth and asshole fucked at the same time, because half of the shit-flavoured cocks that emerged from the pretty dean’s as ended up in Ms. Anderson’s mouth, and the remaining half in Stephanie’s. The first cock to emerge from Emily’s poop chute for Stephanie was just coated in shit. Stephanie was busy blowing a big burly black groundskeeper (so much for avoiding huge black cocks on her first day!), so the Hispanic janitor had to wait. Stephanie couldn’t help but eye the shit-fouled cock waiting for her as she worked the cock in her mouth. As the groundskeeper got closer and closer to climax, Stephanie grew more and more excited herself. Finally, he pulled out, she swallowed, and the she immediately waved the janitor over, hoping desperately that none of the shit would fall off and be lost. Luckily, though one little turd did fall off, the talented teen’s mouth already was in motion toward it and she skill-fully caught it on her tongue. Carefully, she let the janitor insert the rest of his cock deep into her mouth as she held her jaws as wide open as possible, and then she slowly closed her mouth, feeling that little turd crushed onto her tongue by the cock as it landed.
“Hmmmmmm!” she purred appreciatively, glancing again towards where Ms. Anderson continued to be mercilessly reamed at both ends.
At that very moment, lovely blonde Kim Henry was being walked towards her assignment. She’d never been to a seniors complex before, and was amazed at how extensive this one was. There were four 14-storey apartment buildings surrounding a large central three-storey activities complex, in which there was a humungous dining hall, an indoor pool and Jacuzzi, a TV lounge, a library, and a games room with pool and ping-pong tables and even a shuffle-board court. She was very impressed. Their tour guides were a very sprightly 72-year old, grey-haired woman named Doris, and her 77-year old white-haired friend Alice. The two were hilarious to see together, because they bantered back and forth unceasingly. They were so cute.
“This is the bathroom where poor old Mr. Muckler died last month,” Doris said, when they were touring the activities complex.
“Don’t tell them that!” Alice scoulded.
“It’s okay. He was 97.”
“Doris!”
“They found him sitting in a stall with his dick in his hand.” Doris started to whisper: “They think he was doing himself.”
“Doris! Honestly!” Alice cried.
The teens just looked at each other and laughed.
Eventually, Alice and Doris brought the girls to the main lounge, where four other women were waiting, and the girls were divided into six groups.
“You four groups will go with your guide to your assigned apartment building,” Doris explained, “and Alice and I will take the last two groups. Alice’s group will go to the gym, and my group will go to the dining hall.”
