Chapter 1

In every corner of the land, sophisticated parents knew that the best of all possible places to send their daughters to be raised properly was the Gladys M. Forsythe Academy for Advanced Young Ladies.

No other school in America had such a brilliant record of past achievement. Each year, the school took in hundreds of young, promising girls, still tottering on the brink of femininity and sexual maturity, and at the end of that same year would emerge the same number of young ladies; intelligent, charming, beautiful, well-educated. The Academy's list of alumni included a Congresswoman, three female doctors, several fashion models and at least a dozen well-known Hollywood and Broadway actresses. (As a matter-of-fact, the school had also produced twenty or thirty hookers, but somehow this little tidbit of information never managed to work its way into the school's brochure.) So, at the moment, the Academy's reputation was as spotless and untarnished as a virgin's maidenhead.

But, as we all know, virgins can lose their virginity.

The trouble all started when one of the students, by the name of Melanie Simpson, confessed to an affair with the school's laundry man. (She was a young girl, but big for her age.) Then one of the teachers, a vivacious young blonde by the name of Stella Hunnicutt, was found to have been sneaking off the campus for sexual purposes. As soon as these two skeletons were let out of the closet, a whole avalanche of other cases of sexual liasons began to tumble out with them. Before long, the board of directors of the Academy discovered that at least one third of the student bodies had been sneaking off the campus at regular intervals. "For some hot cock, " as one pert young student put it so aptly.

A major reform was called for, and practically every member of the all-female faculty was dismissed, and one or two were even arrested on charges of procuring men and boys for their young and eager pupils.

Now a new school year was about to start, and the Academy's board of directors was urgently in need of some two dozen teachers and other faculty members. But on such short notice, where could they be obtained?

It was at an emergency meeting of the board that The Suggestion was made. It was The Suggestion that was to have such a profound effect, both physical and mental (but especially physical) on all the young girls who were enrolled in the school. Had the mothers and fathers of those little girls known that they were sending them away to a strange school to get raped by strange men, they would have kept their little darling virgins safe at home, where they could get raped by the boy next door.

What The Suggestion amounted to was this: an all-female faculty had been running the Academy when the scandal was unearthed, apparently women were unable to keep the Academy running on an even keel. Therefore, some member of the board of directors suggested that the Academy staff the school with a male faculty. Perhaps trained, intelligent men would be able to keep little girls in line more satisfactorily than women could. Amen to that!

At first The Suggestion met with some heated discussion. After all, the campus would hold six hundred girls between the ages of twelve and eighteen. Wouldn't it be courting trouble to stock the campus with men?

Not at all, others claimed. The reason why so many girls had run off to have sex with men was because there were no males on the campus, hence their normal curiosity about the opposite sex gradually developed into nymphomania. Now if men, RELIABLE men of course, were to remain on the campus full time, the girls would have their sexual curiosity satisfied without actually having to go out and seek sex. In other words, they would look but they wouldn't touch.

And so it came to pass that the new semester began at the Gladys M. Forsythe Academy for Advanced Young Ladies under unusual circumstances: for once the school would actually be run by MEN!

Needless to say, this announcement was a great source of delight to the young student body of the school, and to two rather interesting bodies in particular.

"I can't get over it, " Felicia Hanley said one morning to her friend Cynthia Rodinas. "For all the years I've been enrolled in this prison-camp I've had to sneak off campus and hitch a ride to town every time I want a little hot action. But now the school is finally bringing the men to us. It's far out."

Her friend Cynthia nodded. Cynthia was a year younger than Felicia, but far more literate. "Like they say in the books, " she commented, "if the mountains won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed must come to the mountains."

Speaking of mountains, perhaps it would be wise at this time to point out that Feilcia and Cynthia were both the proud owners of a couple of Sierra Madres. And the tight sweaters and blouses they wore did little if anything to conceal this fact. Both girls hoped that when the men showed up they would be interested in doing a little mountain-climbing. And just in case the men weren't interested in mountains, Felicia and Cynthia had a couple of very interesting valleys.

The rumor was that the Academy was being maintained by a skeleton crew of female teachers.

Let us now shift scenes for a moment, fading out on two very voluptuous schoolgirls and fading in on a slightly older, but equally feminine, piece of ass. The ass in question is engaged in wiggling back and forth like a cocktail shaker, in a manner calculated to attract the attention of every adult male eyeball on board the train.

Derek Marcus had an adult male eyeball. As a matter-of-fact he had two of them, and both were very, very busy watching the cheeks of that ass wiggle back and forth. An experienced girl watcher from his cradle days, Derek Marcus was not using both eyes to watch both ass cheeks, but rather assigned one eye to each cheek. In that way, the job gets done more efficiently and the results are much more satisfactory.

"Some nice piece of ass, huh, Derek?"

"Eh?" With a slight degree of annoyance at being interrupted during his nature study, Derek turned to face the source of the question. The source was the man sitting next to him on the train, a man by the name of Craig Bentley. Both men were in their early thirties, and both men had an occupation that was probably unique, certainly interesting, and definitely desirable: they were professional fuckers. From earliest boyhood they had devoted their lives to the noble cause of fucking in all its infinite number of ways. They had relied on glib tongues, fast fists and faster wits to secure themselves employment in some truly amazing and improbable places: in a nursing school, in a model agency, anywhere where the female-to-male ratio was apt to be at its most lopsided. A place where there were untold thousands of women, all thirsting for men, but no men to fill the demand, that was the ideal place for Derek Marcus and Craig Bentley. They specialized in finding such places and in filling such desires ... as well as filling a few other things, such as certain portions of the female anatomy.

Time and again, the two comrades had depended upon their brains, their mastery of disguise and their seemingly infinite stockpile of forged references to land themselves employment in places where there were sure to be many women and few men. Although their career to date was teeming with exotic-and erotic-experiences, both men agreed that their absolute masterpiece so far had been the time they had managed to secure positions as laundrymen right next door to a nuns' convent ... where they discovered that some of the nuns had some very dirty habits.

But now a bit of fast talk, a few of the ever-useful forged references, and an occasional bribe here and there had obtained for them what promised to be some very interesting jobs indeed.

Starting today, Derek Marcus was to be headmaster of an all-girl school. Hmmmmm....

And Derek's sidekick Craig Bentley was to be his personal assistant. Naturally, Derek liked to believe that in matters of sex he required no assistance whatsoever. However, even he had to admit that six hundred teenage girls would be a little too much for him to handle. With all the sexual feasting he was sure to do in the days ahead, it would be inevitable that a few scraps of meat would fall from the table. And it was only fair that Craig be allowed to snap up those scraps.

Perhaps it would be fair at this point to mention the fact that "Derek Marcus" and "Craig Bentley" are not their real names. If I were to give these men's real names, as well as mention where they might be found at this very moment, I have no doubt that several thousand angry husbands, fathers and boy friends would converge on that spot within the hour, most of them armed with shotguns or the equivalent. So I shall have to refer to both gentlemen by the names which they were using at the time this story took place. You see, these two comrades had blazed a trail of saliva and semen and even blood clear across the country and around the world. A regular Jism Trail. Their sexploits were spoken of with awe and a trace of envy by men in Las Vegas, New York, London, Paris, Johannesburg and even Bangcock. And wherever these two men went they always traveled under ever-changing assumed names, and with slightly different faces all the time. As soon as they'd drunk their fill of the female population in one place, the next day they would be sure to show up three thousand miles away, with new names and faces and wardrobes. And at this particular moment, one of the men was known as Derek Marcus, and he had, at this particular moment, black hair and a moustache. The other man was known, for the time being, as Craig Bentley and he was a blonde, for the moment.

The wiggling ass that had attracted Derek's attention had gyrated its way down to the end of the train. By this time the owner of the ass had turned around to come back, and as she turned around she revealed a pair of protuberances that were easily as interesting as the ass was. But Derek wasn't looking at them, for once. He had closed his eyes and was busy telling himself what would happen. Let me see, he told himself, we haven't worked at a school for a long time. Not since that girls' boarding school in Paris where all the girls were so eager to learn what we wanted to teach them. Well, it'll be a challenge, but I know we'll be up to it.

The train squealed into the station abruptly and stopped with a rather annoying jerk. But Derek and Craig, who had ridden everything from a camel to an ostrich to a Chinese junk to a redhead from Brooklyn named Louise, were quite familiar with transportation that did not stop smoothly. While most of the other passengers cursed or even fell to the floor, they merely stood up and reached for their luggage.

A moment later they were off the train and taking a cab to the campus of the Gladys M. Forsythe Academy for Advanced Young Ladies. A generous tip to the cabbie assured the two comrades that they would be able to converse in silence, for there is nothing like a liberal dose of money to turn cabdrivers, waiters, policemen and other public servants totally deaf for long periods of time.

"It's like this, " Derek told his sidekick as the taxicab roared out of the train station. "There's something like six hundred chicks at this school, between twelve and eighteen years old. The golden years, as we both well know."

Craig nodded nostalgically as he recalled past triumphs.

"Not only that, " Derek went on, "but there will be less than a dozen men on the faculty. That means more than fifty girls to a man, and with the two of us as headmaster and assistant, we'll see to it that we get the pick of the Utter."

"I'm with you, Derek, " Craig assured his friend. "But just one question: what's our modus operandi this time?"

"I'm glad you asked." Derek lit a long black cigar and sat back, puffing contentedly. "We can divide the girls in the school into three groups: those that have had it and still want it, those that haven't had it, but know they want it, and those that have never had it and don't think they want it." He smiled sadistically. "Those that have had it and want it, we give it to them. Those that haven't had it but want it anyway, we give it to them. And those that haven't had it but don't think they want it, we give it to them anyway." He blew out a ring of grey smoke. "After all, what are men for but to fuck defenseless little innocent schoolgirls?"

After several minutes drive they arrived at the gate of the campus. A woman in her thirties, but who acted much older, came out to meet them.

"You must be Mister Marcus and Mister Bentley, " she said enthusiastically. "I'm Miss Hayes, temporary head of the Academy. But of course, now that YOU'RE here, Mister Marcus, I can rest my weary bones."

Oh God, Derek thought to himself. This deal looked so good, it just figured there had to be a catch to it. Running a girls' school sounds fine, just fine, but am I going to have to put up with this female orangutang bellowing in my ear everywhere I go? I hope not, because I came here to fuck, not to listen to blabbermouthed old biddies.

With a pause, Derek reflected that he was this woman's boss; from now on she would be working under him. (Though not literally, he hoped.) If Miss Hayes or Haze or whatever her name was didn't button her lip when he told her to, he could always assign her to latrine duty or something. That would be an interesting prospect.

Just then two members of the student body, and possessors of rather interesting bodies themselves, happened to pass by. Miss Hayes instantly shanghaied them. "Oh Felicia, Cynthia, these are Mister Marcus and Mister Bentley. Please show them to their quarters."

"Yes, ma'am, " said one girl. Derek couldn't help admiring the scenery: both girls were young, but quite well-developed. One girl was about a year older than the other, with honey-blonde hair and a pair of tits that threatened to leap out and attack somebody. The younger girl had long straight hair, jet black with a hint of brown, and in the mammary department she was no slouch herself. Derek was interested in both girls' cunts of course (Wasn't he always?), but at the moment he couldn't see the aforementioned hot spots because both cunts were concealed under a pair of short skirts. Well, Derek knew that he'd get a look at those pussies soon enough.

"Your quarters are over this way, sirs, " the older girl was saying, and each girl grabbed for a pair of the men's half a dozen suitcases. "We'll help you with your luggage."

"NO!" yelped Derek, forgetting for a moment who and where he was supposed to be. Then he quickly regained his composure. After all, from the outside those suitcases looked just like any other suitcases. How could these two girls even begin to guess the nature of the very interesting items they contained?

And even if the girls happened to see what was inside the cases, that didn't mean they would know what the things were. After all, the world is full of things made out of leather and rubber and steel. Just because the headmaster of a girls' school carries such things in his suitcase doesn't necessarily mean he plans to use those things on his students.

In this case, though, that's precisely what it did mean.

For both Derek and Craig liked their sex in many strange and unusual ways, and some of those ways called for certain tools or apparatus. These innocent young schoolgirls were probably not acquainted with such things right now, but they would be. Very soon.

Very, very soon.

At the exact same time as Derek and Craig were pondering the sexual potential of the two schoolgirls they had just met, those two schoolgirls were doing the exact same thing regarding the two men. For despite the fact that Felicia Hanley and Cynthia Rodinas looked exactly like young, innocent, virginal schoolgirls, they were actually quite experienced indeed. They knew they wanted men and they knew how they wanted them, and they were determined to get them.

All in all, it looked like an extremely interesting semester for all parties concerned.

The two schoolgirls ushered the men into one of the larger buildings on campus and up a flight of stairs to a room containing two beds and some furniture.

"ThisTl be where you sleep, " Felicia informed Derek and Craig.

The other girl, Cynthia, was already swinging the suitcases up onto the table. "Shall we help you with your luggage, sirs? I'm sure you're both too tired to unpack."

This time it was Craig's turn to shout "NO!" as he stepped forward to intercept the girl. "NO! It's all right! Well both unpack our own things."

But he was too late. Already Cynthia had opened a suitcase and was peering at the contents within.

"Craig, you idiot, " Derek snapped, "I told you to lock those damned suitcases!"

But he also was too late, for by now both Felicia and Cynthia had gotten a good look at what was inside the suitcase.

Among other things were a whip, an enema bag and hose, several lengths of chain and some manacles. Several photographs showing women and girls in rather revealing poses had half-spilled out of an envelope on which Craig had written "Previous Encounters."

"My, my, " Felicia was saying to Cynthia in amusement. "It looks to me like we got a couple of deans that like their sex life hot and heavy."

Derek's smooth talk had gotten him out of worse situations, and he felt the time had come for it to rescue him once again. Stepping closer to the two schoolgirls he said, "Now of course you realize that what's in there isn't what it looks like. You see, we've been gathering data on sexual experiences and deviations, and...."

"Aw, come off it, Mister, " said Felicia, slamming shut the incriminating suitcase and coming closer to the uncomfortable Derek. "You're not fooling anybody with that bullshit. If you like to fuck every girl in sight, why don't you just say so?"

"Yeah, " chimed in her friend Cynthia. "Why don't you come right out and say so? Because if you two like to fuck every girl in sight that's quite a coincidence, seeing as how me and Felicia like to lay every man in sight."

A smile flitted across Derek's lips. "Craig, " he called out to his companion, "this looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Craig didn't have to be told what to do; he was no virgin. In a trice he had crossed the room and was standing at the door. His muscular hands closed around a chair and jammed it underneath the doorknob, preventing any uninvited guests from crashing the party. Then he and Derek were both standing near the two beds, waiting for the girls to join the fun.

And they didn't have to wait long. While the two men watched, Felicia and Cynthia divested themselves of their girlish clothing in a matter of seconds. And both Derek and Craig were pleased to notice that these two chicks looked even better in the raw than they looked out of it.

Now the two men were coming towards the two girls, slowly undoing their zippers. "I'll take the blonde, " Derek told his friend, almost like a quarterback calling out the plays, "and you take the brunette. After we fuck 'em we'll switch partners."

Craig nodded to show that the battle plan was to his liking, and a moment later Derek's hands shot out and closed in around Felicia's firm young body, ready willing and able to drag her down and onto the convenient bed. But Felicia did not have to be persuaded, for as soon as the man touched her she was leaping through the air to land ass-down on the mattress, pulling her new-found friend down with her and on top of her.

In a moment Derek had Felicia by the ankles, and he grabbed them and spread them wide. There was the cunt, the beautiful golden pussy that would give him what he wanted. Derek, who had been fucking since well before his twelfth birthday, could tell at a glance that this girl's cunt was experienced, it had really been around. And now it was going to be around his hard cock. Well, that was just fine. Derek liked his girls two ways: the complete virgins which were putty in his hands, and the girls who despite their youth had been rolling in the hay for years and knew the best way to do it. The only girls Derek didn't like were the ones who had been fucking a while but still hadn't gotten the hang of it yet.

And now he was on top of Felicia, and his rock-hard cock was zeroing in on her pussy like an I.C.B.M. zeroing in on its target.

With a sudden thrust of his loins, Derek shot forward and down, plunging his organ deep into the waiting flesh below.

And Felicia was ready for it. So experienced and artful was she in the ways of love that her cunt actually reached out and grabbed his cock, tugging it away from him and down into the depths of her own flesh as though to steal it forever. And Felicia did want this cock in her forever. She hadn't had a man in almost two weeks now, and she was afraid of losing her touch. But, no; once she'd felt this bundle of meat force its way into her she knew that she was just as good as always; better, in fact. Because, after all, experience was the best teacher. Felicia, though young, was quite experienced in the ways and means of sex, and it certainly showed. She was going to give this man the lay of his life.

And in the other bed Cynthia was doing roughly the same to Craig Bentley. She could tell that this was a man who knew his way around, a man who'd had his choice of untold numbers of pussies, a man who could and did have any girl he wanted. But Cynthia could tell that, despite this man's sexual sophistication, he was very much impressed with her own prowess in the bedroom department. Well, Cynthia told herself as the huge cock began to churn between her thighs, maybe I haven't been around as much as you have, but that doesn't mean I can't give you a lay that'll fry your eyeballs.

By now both men were pumping in syncopated rhythm, and not only they but the two schoolgirls as well were being sucked into an ever-widening vortex of passion, of thrilling orgasmic lust. They felt like balloons, slowly being" inflated with more and more passion and pleasure at every passing moment. .

Derek's mouth was on Felicia's firm young tits now, sucking them skillfully, slowly teasing the flat brown knobs of her nipples into hard, red, erect points of passion. And Craig was doing-the same to Cynthia, until the four nipples stood out like two pairs of beacons sending out beams of pleasure.

At last Felicia began to feel that delightfully unique sensation that she had been looking forward to for days now and even weeks. She felt the hot walls of her vagina grip the hard rod of passion that was thrust between her legs, she felt her body squeeze it tighter and tighter, filling girl and man both with unspeakably delicious sensations. And then Felicia felt the greatest sensation of all: she felt that beautiful big hard phallus shiver and shake and send out its torrent of hot love-juice, which she had been waiting for for quite a long time. Oh, this was it! This was it!

And then, suddenly, Felicia was creaming too. She was sending out waves of hot golden love-juice just as fast as the big man on top of her was. The two of them went at it faster and faster, more and more, and then both of them were creaming at once, and it was fantastic. More of it, more of it. There had to be more! More! MORE!

Meanwhile, not too far away, Cynthia and Craig were holding their own in the Fuck Olympics. Cynthia moaned with throbbing pleasure as she felt Craig's huge tool zooming up and down inside her like a piledriver, faster and faster as the two of them came steadily and inevitably closer and closer to orgasm.

POW! The two of them, the man and the girl, both climaxed at the exact same moment. It was great! It was fantastic! Cynthia assured herself that, good as her previous sex life had been, this little adventure had been the best one yet. She closed her eyes and promised herself that there would be more of this. Much, much more.

But the love tryst was not over yet; indeed, it was only half-time. The two men leaped from their beds and hastily, eagerly swapped both beds and bed partners. And then Felicia was ready for Craig and Cynthia was all set to try Derek on for size.

Round two was, if anything, even better than the preliminaries, because by this time they had all had a chance to warm up. The twin shafts of masculine flesh flew up and down between those four female thighs without skipping a beat. Faster and faster, faster and faster.

And then they were all creaming again, all going on to a grander and even more delightful climax than the first one had been. The two girls, who had up until now taken it all quite easily, now let out a pair of passionate moans. Oh, this was it! They'd had sex before, and lots of it, but never as good as this! Oh, this was it! This was fuckin' IT!

And then the four of them eased into the final movements of the ballet of love, the soulful symphony of lust. Slowly but sweetly the music of pleasure drew to a close.

"Well, " said Cynthia, as both girls got up and began to put on their clothes, "that was great. We both loved it a hell of a lot."

Derek Marcus smiled, sat up in the bed and lit a cigarette. "Don't worry, " he assured the schoolgirls, "Craig and I liked it at least as much as you did. And probably more."

"Well, don't worry, " said Felicia with a wink at the two schoolmasters. "We'll be back for second helpings. And thirds and fourths and fifths and sexths ... I mean, sixths, and sevenths and eighths and...."

And then they were gone, and the door closed behind them, but in the distance the two men could still here the voice saying " ... and ninths and tenths and elevenths and...."

With a grin Derek stood up and placed his still-throbbing meat back inside his pants where it belonged. "Craig, " he said at length, flicking ashes from his cigarette into the fireplace, "as headmaster of this school, something tells me that those two girls are going to get very good grades from now on."