ALSO BY AYA FUKUNISHI
The Fifty Shades Erotic Romance Series
Unrequited
At His Command
On His Orders
The Dictator's Concubine
The Breeding Erotica Series
Breeding in Class: Alison's Practical Sex Ed.
Breeding in Class 2: Abi's Practical Sex Ed.
Captive Breeding
Begging For It: The Breeding Trilogy
The Breeding Program
Mating Amelie
Breeding For the Future
Breeding the Babysitter
Creampie Dreams: Impregnation Erotica Trilogy
The Wolf Mountain Werewolf Sex Series
Thrown to the Wolves
Sating the Wolves
Submitting to the Wolves
The Wolf Mountain Werewolf Sex Trilogy
… And Many More
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Copyright © 2012 by Aya Fukunishi
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
First Printing, 2012
A Bangkok Nights Publication
BREEDING IN CLASS
ALISON'S PRACTICAL SEX ED.
by
Aya Fukunishi
'OK, guys and gals, today's the day. I'm gonna need a volunteer. Who wants to come up to the front of class and make a baby?'
Every last hand was raised.
Jefferson University, New Washington
June 24, 2113
The light gradually filtered into the room as the walls cleared, and in her sleep Alison squeezed her eyes closed. It was no use. Moments later she was wide awake.
Since moving into the corner dorm room in her freshman year she'd hated every morning. It was billed as the best bedroom in the building, with floor to ceiling views of the lake through the visi-walls, but nobody had thought to mention the fact that it faced due east. At this time of year that meant Alison never slept beyond seven, when the sun peeked over the trees and the walls automatically cleared.
'Shades,' she groaned to the wall-mounted computer. 'Shades! God damn it, shades!'
'Reminder,' said the computer, in its annoyingly cheerful tone. '8AM conference call with parents, followed by 9:30AM sexual education practical in Block B, room 219.'
Alison moaned, burying her face in her pillow. She'd forgotten about the call to her parents. It was one of those promises she'd made, back before they'd agreed to pay the exorbitant fees at Jefferson. Call at least once a week, no skipping class, get pregnant by the start of the second year. The first two pledges she'd managed without a problem, but it was the third she was still catching Hell over. Her failure to get knocked up was a real sticking point with the folks, especially since that was the only reason she was in college.
'Run a bath, please,' she mumbled, rolling over to escape the bright sunshine.
'Of course, Alison. I've taken the liberty of adding shavers to the water, and I'll prepare breakfast as you bathe.'
Chapter Two
'How's Bangkok, Mom?'
Her mom grimaced with distaste through the wall screen. 'Oh, you know Bangkok. Just as bad as ever. They still can't seem to keep the flooding away. The water's knee deep outside the hotel, so I've barely seen anything but the roof and the room in days. Financial capital of the world, and the streets look like Venice.'
Her father appeared on the wall, his face lit by torchlight. 'Hey, at least you have something to drink down there,' he chuckled. 'I've been on dehydrated water for four days now, and the stuff they have here tastes like sucking pennies. I'm telling you, Margaret, I'm done with Asia. And another thing...'
Alison zoned out, watching the downy hair on her pussy disintegrate as the microscopic shavers went to work under the warm water. Her parents bickered good naturedly about who had it worse. Alison didn't care. Both of their jobs sucked, as far as she was concerned. Her mother lived out of a suitcase, zipping from hotel to hotel across the world trying to find jobs for forced expats from Florida, while her father ran PR for a mine in the Gobi Desert, living in a nomadic ger a hundred miles south of Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. Alison didn't even know what the mine produced, but she remembered it had something to do with cell phone components. Neither parent had been home in a year.
Alison's eyes drooped, trying to pull her back into sleep as the warm water soothed her muscles and the shavers tickled her pussy and legs. Her head snapped up just as she began to slide under the water. She'd made that mistake before, and she knew the shavers couldn't tell the difference between unwanted hair and the locks she'd been growing for years. Those weeks as a bald teenager had taught her a valuable lesson.
'Alison, you hear me? I asked about your practical.'
'Huh? Oh, the Sex Ed. What about it?'
Her mother pursed her lips, something that still set off the same warning signs a continent away as it did across the dinner table. 'Don't tell me you've forgotten, young lady. I have your course schedule right here,' she said, holding up her tab to the camera. Alison could see she'd marked her Sex Ed classes in red. 'Tell me you're going to volunteer, Alison. I don't want to have to wait another month for a grandchild.'
Alison sighed and rolled her eyes. 'Of course I'll volunteer, Mom. Don't worry, I'll be pregnant next time you hear from me. Scout's honor.'
Her mother still looked unhappy. Not a surprise, really. After almost two full years she'd yet to conceive and, as her mother never failed to remind her, 'people will talk'. That was one of her mother's favorite phrases. People will talk. Who these people were was never really explained, but they'd talk. And this was a bad thing.
'I just worry about your, dear. If you don't get pregnant soon... Well, people may start to think you're using,' at this she lowered her voice and whispered theatrically, 'protection.'
Another roll of the eyes. 'C'mon, Mom. Nobody uses protection. I wouldn't even know where to get it if I wanted to. None of my friends use it.'
Her father butted in now. Always coming to the rescue of little Alison, the girl who could do no wrong. 'Now, Margaret, I think we raised our little Ally to be smarter than that. You just try your best, slugger.'.
'Thanks, Dad. OK, guys, I have to sign off.' she smirked at the wall screen. 'This uterus ain't gonna fill itself.'
Chapter Three
It was the late 21st century when things had started to go wrong. Climate change, overpopulation, dwindling resources and a global economy that just couldn't seem to pull itself from a decades long depression had all taken their toll and, in the words of a prominent economist of the time, we faced a 'biological tipping point'. Twelve billion people competing for only enough resources to satisfy four billion sent the world into a tailspin.
In the US, forced sterilization was the first measure, along with severe rationing, compulsory land reclamation and 'payback', a system by which every citizen had to work the land to grow enough food to cover his or her rations for the year. The compulsive eaters were the first to drop dead of exhaustion.
It was the Asian economies that got back on their feet the fastest. The dictatorships fared best; those nations led by ruthless lunatics who saw people as numbers, and didn't mind subtracting a minority for the good of the majority. Thailand was the
big winner. The world's largest exporter of rice, an uneducated population and a government made up of the kind of people you wouldn't piss on if they were on fire. The perfect combination.
The US, on the other hand, fell from grace. Hard. A combination of an over-educated, over-entitled and under-skilled workforce, a service economy that relied on a plentiful, continuous supply of wasteful processed goods and a government led by people who'd happily piss on the opposition out of spite, even while they themselves were on fire, had all contributed to the fall. The Republicans filibustered the mandatory abortion bill, while the Democrats piled amendment after amendment onto the second generation immigrant deportation bill. The pointless, childish deadlock in the face of extinction eventually brought both parties down to the mud.
By the time the nation was back, shakily, on its feet millions had been forcefully expatriated, sent out to places like Australia, Russia and China to work as farmers on land the natives didn't want to farm themselves. It was the only way to take control of the crippling national debt.
When Alison was born it was standard practice to sterilize at birth. Reversible, of course, but only for those who went to college, served in the military or greased the right palm. Among the lucky few it was de rigueur to have at least one child immediately after the sterilization was reversed.
That was why she was at Jefferson. Alison wanted to have a baby. She wanted it more than anything. Ever since she'd been a little girl she'd wanted to feel a life growing inside her. She wanted someone to care for, to depend on her.
It had been difficult to convince her parents to pay the fees, of course. Neither earned a whole lot, and they'd had to take unpleasant postings overseas to bump up their income. In fact, it was only when Alison threatened to enlist in the Navy that they'd caved. It was an empty threat, of course. She didn't like boats, and the idea of spending a seven year tour policing the sea farms seemed too high a price to pay, even if the prize was a child.
Now, though, she was approaching her final year and had yet to conceive, despite her best efforts. She'd fucked every student who'd have her, and more than a few professors. Every month she'd spend a solid week in bed with a dozen or more guys, and each month she'd piss on the stick only to be greeted by a single line. If she wasn't pregnant by graduation day she'd lose her privileges. She'd be re-sterilized. Her mother would die of shame, and Alison would probably walk into the lake, her pockets filled with stones, in a depressing homage to Virginia Woolf.
Today, though... She had a good feeling about today. Professor Hamilton's practicals were famous for their near unbroken streak of conceptions. Since he'd arrived at the college five years earlier he'd fathered fourteen children himself. Maybe more in his leisure time, especially since Pi Kappa Gamma made him their unofficial mascot. Around the college he was seen as something of a lucky charm.
He was also very, very hot, but of course that was neither here nor there.
Chapter Four
Professor Hamilton stumbled backwards as if struck, laughing.
'Wow, that's a whole lot of volunteers. OK, let's start with... You there, Ms Croft, and... How about it, Adam, are you primed and ready?'
The tanned young man in the third row grinned eagerly, and glanced over at Alison. 'Yes sir, good to go. I've been saving up my best swimmers.'
The professor chuckled. 'Good man. Only the best in my lecture hall. Well, why don't the two of you come up to the front and show us all how it's done?'
Adam hopped out of his seat and was already unbuckling his belt as he trotted down the steps to the bed. He'd always been a show-off in the practicals, a bit of a teacher's pet. After four successful inseminations he already had a lock on an 'A' for the course. If he wanted to he could just coast for the rest of the semester, getting himself sucked off in the back row with the slackers, but he was an eager beaver. Always the first to drop an apple on the professor's desk.
He knew his stuff, though, Alison had to give him that. He'd skewed the curve for the rest of the class in everything. Oral, anal, tantric, fisting, toys... There wasn't a single discipline in which he didn't excel, saving same sex. He'd never really gotten the hang of putting it in another guy. It didn't matter, though, as homo wasn't on the syllabus. It was just optional homework that only about half the class bothered to try.
Alison, on the other hand, was right on the verge of flunking. It wasn't that she didn't know the material. The theory was a breeze, and she always led the way in the private study groups, but out on the stage in front of all those people... she'd never really got to grips with it. She had a hard time coming when she was the focus of attention, and she always imagined her ass looked too big on the cameras.
That was the worst part for her: the angles. The tiny, flitting cameras that buzzed around the room threw her off, and she always lost focus when she caught a glimpse of herself from an unflattering perspective on screen.
She'd once almost fainted when she'd caught a view of the wall as her friend Katy pushed a fist into her. It had felt great but the cameras were buzzing in from below, and the screen showed nothing but Alison's gaping, dripping asshole flexing as Katy twitched her fingers deep inside her pussy. It had put her off at just the wrong moment, and when she tried to shift to a more flattering angle Katy's pinky ring had caught on something inside her.
It was weeks before her classmates let her forget about that one. Cry baby can't take a dainty little girl's fist. Even her mother had heard about it.
Luckily, the professor knew to go easy on her. That was his gift, Alison thought. He knew the strengths of his students, and he worked with them. He understood Alison didn't thrive under pressure, so he usually let her submit sex videos rather than present to the class in person.
Today, though, she suspected he'd taken ear bashing from her mother, and he'd agreed to call on Alison first just to get her off the line. Alison knew better than anyone how her mother was a force to be reckoned with. She could imagine the conversation. Mr. Hamilton, if you can't do a job as simple as convincing a horny student to get my girl pregnant I expect you to stand up and damn well do the job yourself. We're paying your salary, you know.
The professor gave her a thin smile, and that was all she needed to confirm her suspicions. As she shuffled down the steps towards the bed she gave him an apologetic look, a shrug of the shoulders as if to say Hey, at least she's not your mother.
'OK, guys, we're gonna start off with something simple, take it slow. Ally, I want you to go down on Adam like we demonstrated last week. Remember to pay attention to the balls, OK?'
Alison smiled. Oral she could do. At least she wouldn't have to watch herself on the wall as she buried her face into Adam's crotch.
'Yes, professor. You ready, Adam?'
The young man hopped backwards onto the bed, laying on his back with his legs hanging over the edge. His khakis were in a crumpled heap by her feet, but he'd left his underwear on, covering his raging erection. Alison felt a little tingle, despite her embarrassment. She always loved the look of a cock as it sprang from a tight pair of jockeys.
Alison positioned herself between Adam's splayed legs, reaching down to grip the waistband of his jockeys with her teeth. It wasn't strictly necessary, but the audience always appreciated a little flair. She pulled down, peeling the cotton towards his legs, and grinned between her teeth as the cock popped out, slapping against Adam's stomach.
'Nice touch, Ally,' smiled the professor, leaning over the couple. He turned to the class. 'The rest of you should be taking notes.'
Alison closed her lips delicately over the head of Adam's erection, taking care to keep her teeth away. She pulled the cock down with her lips until it rose at a right angle to his flat stomach, then sank down to take the length deep into her throat. She groaned as she felt the glans touch her tonsils, knowing her humming moans would give Adam a delightful little frisson to set the mood. His gasp told her she'd judged it just right.
Pulling back, she felt her pussy begin to
lube up as she studied the long, wet cock before her eyes. There was nothing like a stiff dick glistening with saliva to make her wet, and she dove in with more energy now, licking his length from base to tip before locking her lips over the head and sucking powerfully. With one hand she grasped the base, steadying it as she sucked, and with the other she lightly caressed Adam's heavy, cum laden testicles.
Adam was in his own little world, focusing all of his concentration on the sensations as Ally bathed him with her tongue and tickled with her fingers. She gave his shaft a quick little squeeze and immediately felt a response. She knew she could make him cum whenever she chose now. With just a well placed suck at the right moment he'd spurt wherever she wanted. That's the way she liked it. She didn't like to waste the cum, but she loved the feeling of it dripping down her face or bursting on her tongue.
Facing away front the audience, Alison pointed back towards where she knew her friend Becky would be sitting, no doubt already playing with herself or someone else under the table, the horny little animal. She beckoned with a finger, and heard a chair scrape back almost immediately. Now she was ready.
Begging For It: The Breeding Trilogy (Impregnation Erotica Book 4) Page 1
