Emily’s Not A Slut
The warm sensation hit Emily so quickly she gasped in surprise. Mortification quickly sank her back into the silent anonymity she clings to in public. She wasn’t sure which fear was worse, the fear of the turning into some immoral slut in the middle of class or the fact that others would notice her at all. This couldn’t be happening. No. She spent so much time removing herself from the banality of high school social conventions that any form of recognition or social contact would send her into a week-long spell of cutting class and maybe even herself. Why couldn’t this happen to those stupid half-brains in the short cheerleading outfits? They’re pretty much vapid sluts already. “Not me!” she whimpered under her breath to no one. Not like this.
Another wave of warmth flowed over her making her heart skip a beat and her breath to freeze within her lungs. It wasn’t a fluke. People just don’t get these sensations and stay the same. It wasn’t just her body adjusting to the school’s horribly-programmed thermostat. No, it was telling her that something is coming. It was preparing itself for a change. She was the next in line to change and it was going to happen here in the middle of math class. How mortifying! Why couldn’t it have happened at home in the middle of the night, or even not at all?
Emily’s bloodshot eyes dart back and forth desperately sensing any signs that anyone notices her calamity as a bead of sweat rolls down from her forehead probably running the pale makeup she put on this morning. Her breath shallows as it also hides away burying the turbulence storming through her psyche. A slight whimper burbles up from within as she draws her legs up to her chest inside the student desk she’s holed up in.
More than anything, she’s scared that she’ll become one of those poor students who are victims of this cancerous spread of weird activity that’s infecting the student body. It started when a couple of girls decided that they wanted to try their oral skills on random boys in class. Of course, they were quickly removed and disciplined as they should be. What kind of girl would do such a thing…in the middle of class no less?! The next day a boy and a girl started to have sex against the lockers before third period. Actually, it was the girl who was doing the fucking. It’s weird, though. She was always little miss-innocent teacher’s pet. Every day, little by little, students became more outrageous in their sex acts and debauchery. It’s like there was a competition to see who could outdo the next. Emily honestly just thought that there was a sick game of dare being perpetrated by those who didn’t have the class to keep that stuff to themselves. One girl began rubbing herself in the middle of science class. Everyone just though she was trying to join in on the joke, but she wouldn’t stop. Even after the principal came in to stop her she acted as if she was doing nothing wrong. Then the weird stuff began to happen. There’s rumors that Priscilla turned into a rubber doll, but something so farfetched couldn’t possibly happen in real life. Her friend, Gary, suddenly came out of the closet, but she knows that he wasn’t gay. One girl started lactating during gym. It was kind of funny, Emily bemused trying to ratchet her mind from her own impending doom festering in her mind.
Over time, everyone became more tolerant to them but were still afraid to have any contact with them after the change. Even though it was still a thrill for some pubescent boy to see some girl walk through the hallways nude, he still wouldn’t try to touch her out of fear of catching anything. Surely, Emily thought, he probably ran straight to the restroom and rubbed himself off shortly after. The thought should have caused her to cringe, but it strangely seemed normal. What is normal anymore, anyway?
Emily recounts the testimonials of those that have been affected. They were spread through the regular gossip channels. She never really believed anything she heard from those that gossip, but they all shared the same story of the person instantly changing after feeling warm and tingly.
Mentally, Emily mind is recalculating her future as a slut instead of a…normal person. The fear of what could happen has jerked all of her life plans into a blender and is churning them into a menial existence. Oh, God! She didn’t want to turn into one of them. She didn’t want to be a freak like them. Her hands come up to hide her face. Emily curled her body into a fetal position draped with layers of dark colored, trendy clothes within her chair. Each shaky hand is gloved with a woolen, fingerless mitten and serves as a welcome comfort. Like a frightened mouse, she continues to slink into her cocoon at the back of the classroom.
Again, her body is wracked with a wave of warmth causing a layer of sweat to cover her body and become quite uncomfortable within all of the increasingly moist layers. She wonders if the school’s heater is blowing after feeling a droplet of sweat run between her small, but suddenly very sensitive breasts. Her mind reels at the knowledge that she’d notice such a thing. Is this how it starts? Is she now going to start diddling herself or is she going to jump on the first boy that she can grab? She would have never noticed such a thing as a droplet of sweat on her chest…until now. Now it’s the most noticeable thing in the world. How could she NOT feel it?
Her clothes are growing more and more humid with sweat, but she can’t do anything about it. No. She can’t move for fear that someone would notice her. They would know. They would know that she’s turning slut. They would stare at her. They would undress her with their eyes. Emily recoils at the things that could be doing with them…to them…in their minds. They wouldn’t understand that she’s not one of those students. She couldn’t be. She wouldn’t be!
Her glasses steam up from the moisture escaping through the neck hold of the sauna within her clothes. Could she open her arms a little to allow some of the heat to escape? It wouldn’t be much. She could open the top button of her blouse just a little bit, and no one would notice. Gah! She can’t breathe. Maybe one, but she’ll have to remember to button it back before leaving.
There, the top one is open. That should be enough.
Another upsurge of heat rolls through her body eliciting an audible squeak. Her eyes immediately dart over the class to see if anyone has turned around. Inside of her clothes a droplet of sweat hangs precariously off the end of her nipple. Emily can feel it. She can feel it dangle on the tip of her pointy breasts. At one time she loved her small, tidy breasts. They could be hidden. They wouldn’t give a boy any ideas. They’d always look over her and gawk at the busty ones. Now, because she never really needed to wear a bra, a single droplet of sweat has captivated her senses and brought her mental state to its knees. Stuck in place at the tip of her extended nipple it seems to defy gravity magnifying every motion and of her body. All of the attention her breasts are receiving seems to have tricked her nervous system into thinking that they’re bigger than they usually are similar to when she stubbed her toe. That is what’s happening, isn’t it? It’s just her imagination running wild. Right? That single drop will not let go.
She could undo another button to let more air out, but Emily reminds herself that she’s not a slut. That’s what sluts do. They undress themselves in the middle of class.
Experimentally, she shifts back and forth in an effort to dislodge it, but more droplets seem to have joined it from further up her chest, then another tickles her other nipple. Now both of her nipples are being kissed by a wet bead of nervous energy rolling to and fro from what now seems to be a little further away than they should.
Emily’s mind, in a fight to keep sane, begins to think about how to get relief without making a scene. For one thing, she’s hidden away in layers of thick clothes designed to hide her from the outside world. Maybe if she’s careful about which items to remove, then maybe she’ll be able to breathe.
She takes inventory of what she’s wearing. Her mittens can go. Also, she doesn’t need this oversized wool scarf and hat. Both items fall, unwanted, onto the tile floor around her desk. Still in a crouch, she sits and waits for any relief to come. What else is removable? Shoes? Okay, that means the socks can go, too. They both plop onto the floor without any more attention.
As anticipated, her body is overcome by a heat wave again. Now that she’s expecting them, they’re not giving her as much grief as much as the heat is unwelcome and uncomfortable. Like a sauna though, her muscles seems to be relaxing. Yes, her mind is tortured with the sudden prospect of a stolen future, but her body seems to be less tense with every wave of the cursed heat. In fact, Emily realized that her arms aren’t clutching her bent knees anymore. They’re actually kind of relaxed.
No! That can’t be. She can’t relax now. That’s how it works. A girl will slowly get more and more relaxed until she’s running around naked begging people to fuck her. Her hands again tighten up around her knees. It’s partly conscious, but it’s still important to keep her wits so she also doesn’t turn slutty.
Gosh! If she could just relieve some of this heat. No one’s looking, so it should be okay to unbutton another button or two for a moment. Glancing around just in case someone is looking, she slowly undoes two more buttons from her blouse. They’re not noticeable with her knees in the way, but it’s still unnerving to be so…so open… in the same room as others. Some more fresh air wafts in, but it may take more to really cool her off. Slyly, the exhausted girl opens her blouse and begins to wave the sides back and forth to try to cool down.
Still, no one is noticing her. Thank God! It would be mortifying to have someone know that she’s opened up so much. It’s offering some relief, but she should probably lose the jacket. It, too, joins the growing pile of discarded clothing lying around her desk. Yup, it was too much. It’s okay, Emily surmises, as long as her knees are bent up like this she’ll be okay.
Ooo! As anticipated, the next wave washes over her with hardly any fanfare. Emily’s getting used to the sensations, and those waves aren’t so bad as she once thought. If all it took was for her to lose a couple of layers to feel better, then what would it feel like to lose more? She shifts and fidgets within her now soaked clothes. The air conditioner is helping a little, but the air can’t reach inside with the humidity the way it is. Somehow, it’s especially centered in her crotch. It’s so wet and soupy down there. She squirms uncomfortably hearing an actual ‘squish’ from between her legs.
This outer jacket is big enough to cover her legs and half of the chair. If she’s careful, she could take these tights off and no one would know. It would only be just a second. When the class gets closer to finishing, she could put them back on. Wary of the other students’ attention, Emily pushes herself up off of the seat and pulls the tights down and over her butt. Oh, no! Her panties came off, too. Surprised, she slipped and fell back down bare-butt onto the gratefully cool plastic seat. Oh, yes! That’s so nice. Okay! It’s decided. She’ll just put the panties back on, too. There was no way that Emily was going to pass up this wonderfully cool seat. So, her pants and panties fall onto the pile not really paying attention the fact that her soaked, purple lace panties are completely visible to anyone who cares to glance her way.
Emily looks down and realizes that she’s only wearing a damp, mostly unbuttoned blouse and her long jacket. She freezes in mortification at what she’s done, but the next heat wave soothes her muscles enough to relax. It’s enough to reduce the fear of being noticed like this. It’s not like anyone can see anything through the jacket anyway. Emily’s legs tuck underneath the jacket forcing out like a tent covering her still overheated body.
Feeling a lot better than those agonizing moments ago, Emily can now look at what’s happening with clearer eyes. It’s really not that bad. Maybe it’s finally time to ditch all of those emo clothes and lighten up a little. They’ve always provided her with a blanket of warmth and protection from the outside world, but now she can see that the heat has grown a little too much. She looks down at the pile of soaked and smelly clothes not with dismay, but with relief. At least she’s not wearing those soaked clothes anymore, and that’s okay. She doesn’t really want to anymore.
Emily gasps. Is this just another step towards her being one of those slutty girls? Well, not really. Those clothes were really hot, and it was pretty stupid to layer up indoors. So, yea, maybe all of this drama is for nothing. Maybe it’s all just a scare and nothing more, Emily confidently thinks. In fact, those heat flashes are getting kinda nice and comforting. It’s like that time when her friends and her partied in one of those hot tubs. The warmth was so comfortable and soothed her aches from partying too hard. Shortly after each wave it’s like her extremities grow numb. They just want to rest.
Satisfied that her life isn’t going to fall apart, Emily attempts to pay attention to the lesson. The whole lesson so far has been a wash, but at least she can salvage it, right? Well, no. In her drama, she’s missed some important parts, so now she has no idea what’s going on. It would be hugely embarrassing to ask a stupid question in front of everyone, so Emily decides to just try to catch up silently. She smiles to herself. Her fear of being noticed hasn’t gone anywhere, so all of this was just in her head.
As she adjusts her seating, she can feel that a puddle has formed in her seat. That’s weird. Her hand reaches down to see the offending liquid. Has her sweat formed the puddle? Did she really sweat that much? The liquid is a little thicker than sweat would be. At least what she thinks it would be. Sweat is just salt water, right? Curiously, she moves her fingers around the puddle and accidently bumps into her exposed crotch. That’s when it hit her. It’s not sweat. It’s coming from her privates.
Her heart skips a beat. How could that be? She’s never been that wet before, and she’s not…um…excited. Maybe there’s more to it. Maybe there’s something wrong with her. Feeling assertive now, she presses her fingers into her sopping slit to try to discover the source of the liquid. Her fingers rub up and down, and yes, it feels so good. Another heat wave hits, and a small gush of fluid sprays her hand causing her to yelp. It IS coming from her. She excitedly giggles a little, but covers her mouth to hide it. There’s no way that she’d do that in front of other students.
Emily’s curiosity is overwhelming. She has to find out how she can do that. Again glancing around to see if anyone is watching, Emily begins to thrust her fingers into herself earnestly. If she’s quiet, then no one will know. Yes, that feels so good. Moan. This is so exciting. She’s never really done something like this before. It’s so naughty.
A cry to passion cracks the silence of the classroom. Everyone’s attention shoots over to the busty girl getting taken care of from behind by that studly boy behind her. Emily notices it, too. How could you not notice it? He’s really giving it to her. Geez, you two. Get a room! Thinking inwardly, Emily sighs relieved that she’s not turning into one of those sluts. That would be so embarrassing to do that in the classroom. Poor girl. It must be so hard to be so easy. Jazmine, I think, is her name. She started having sex with boys just a couple of days ago. Since then, she’s gotten some just about every class. Guys are even starting to line up to take turns with her in each class. Like the other students, it just happened one day. Rumor says that it happened in one class. Heh, she just decided that she wanted to be a whore in the middle of biology class. I guess she wanted a more involved lesson. Tee hee.
Well, now’s my chance to try to find out how much juice I can make, Emily decides as the class’ attention is on the rutting couple on the other side of the class. Emily doubles her effort between her legs and basks in the euphoria that it creates. Wet, sloshing noises emanate from her, but she’s really trying to keep it to a minimum.
“Hey, Emily. How about I help you with your problem,” a male voice teases. She spins around to see Henry behind her with his pants off, too.
“Why’d you take your pants off?” Emily asks quietly as not to distract others from the scene in front.
“Why’d you take your off?” he replies.
“I was having hot flashes,” she counters logically. It really was common sense. No one in their right mind would wear such disgusting, wet clothes. She glances back down to the pile of discarded clothes and sneers in revulsion. “So, stop looking at me. It’s creeping me out.”
“How could I not notice you? You’re diddling yourself so loudly that everyone was looking at you. Even the teacher stopped teaching to watch,” he states.
“That’s not true,” she replies. “Everyone was paying attention to the lesson until that slut cried out.”
“Whatever, slut. Do you need help with your problem? I could help you,” he offers arrogantly.
“I’m not a slut. I was just really, really hot,” Emily tries to sound confident, but it comes off sounding more like a whine.
“Yea, right,” he states in derision. Henry is one of the smartest guys in the class, and he’s always been kind of nice to Emily. “Do you want me to help you with your problem or not?”
“What problem do I have?” I ask in a whisper.
“You need to stop that leak, right?” Henry states.
“Well, yea, I guess. I didn’t know that I could stop it,” she counters. Is that true? Could she stop this leaking? Henry is very smart, and if anyone would know how to stop it it’s Henry. “How do I stop it?”
“You need to plug it up. The bigger the better,” Henry smiles as he answers the question to the bewildered Emily.
“And how do you plan to do that?” she asks.
“With this,” he states proudly and points his manhood in her direction. Emily’s eyes grow wide as she’s both shocked and embarrassed at his forwardness. It’s a bold move, she admits, but will it work? Plus, will everyone one else know about it?
“Put that away,” she tries to play it off. “Someone is going to see you. Plus, I’m not one of those sluts,” she chastises. Inside, she’s still on the fence. Other than her wet pussy, she’s not acting like any of those other sluts. Thinking hard, she remembers that some of them grew in ways to advertise their new-found sexuality to the boys. Has she grown any?
In a flurry of desperation, her arms slide down through the armholes, and she casts off the jacket and blouse exposing her entire body to the cooler classroom air. The chill crinkles her nipples and gives her goosebumps. With one dripping hand, she reaches up to her own chest to test whether she’s grown. Other than her nipples hardening, her breasts haven’t gained any size. Whew! She sighs. That would be terrible if she started turning into one of those sluts like that girl getting fucked in class.
“I’m not one of those sluts, am I?” she asks her new friend just to make sure.
“No, you’re not. You just need to cool off and get that problem solved,” his voice is starting to make her even more wet. For a second she entertains the idea of trying to make him a boyfriend. She’s never had one before, so it’s a scary thought. No, it’s exciting.
“Are you sure that no one will notice?” she asks one more time to be certain. She couldn’t afford to be embarrassed like that.
“Sure, just come back here with me,” he offers while leaving his seat and walking behind a row of waist-high tables that the sometimes use during testing. As she get up, the puddle seems to stick to her as strings form between her butt and the seat. With a grunt from sitting curled up so long, she sneaks back with him not noticing her complete nudity.
“Okay, what do you have in mind?” she asks.
He grins. “Just turn around and lean on the table there. I’ll do all the work. You just be sure not to make too much of a commotion, okay?”
“Okay,” she replies and trusting him completely leans over the table. She’d really like to stop leaking so much. Hopefully, he’s able to help.
She feels his hands grab her hips and a soft-headed intruder press into her outstretched lips. He seems to have experience at this, because his aim was perfect. Without any bumping around, he presses forward inserting his manhood into her aching slit. Not having done this before, her lips stretch painfully, burning a ring around the soft-skinned tube that’s pressing into her. She gasps quietly to herself as she feels the area between her legs inflate with the pressure of his entrance. The bent over girl can feel every bump and ridge of him as her body accepts him. She’s never really done this before, so every moment of experience is a revelation. But it’s nice.
The rest of the class resumes the lesson as he bottoms out. She can feel his kinky pubic hair on her butt, and her body feels like a balloon. Inside, Emily feels like this is the same thing that the other couple is doing, but she wouldn’t do such a thing in the classroom. She’s not a slut, and she won’t act that way at school.
He begins to pull out, and she tenses up fretting that he’s done already. Just as he pulls himself all the way out he pushes back in. Emily basks in the feeling of satisfaction and ecstasy of his continued assistance to help her. What again was he helping her to do? That’s funny. She can’t remember. At least no one is watching them. That would be awkward.