students at the fourth audience, on the advice of Ling, we had a quick roll call, after which we quickly beat to the audience. The subject was called “Oral prowess” and led him by some kind of pretty redhead in a gray-blue t-shirt. For a whole hour, we mooed, massaged our necks, made loud sounds, and intentionally yawned, I even began to think that now we were singing and the word “oral” in the title of the subject would be related to vocal and pronunciation. Even when we were given jars of pearl-transparent ointment and we began to lubricate the entrance to the larynx, hope squeaked: "This can be useful for ligaments." Then everyone was given a smooth oblong vibrator, hope threw out the white flag and I, with a sigh, remembered how I practiced with cucumbers and my mother's dildo. In turn, we were called to the department and asked to demonstrate our skills.

I attended the lesson purely in fact, because I was more interested in the question: why did Ling need our names. Understanding the specifics of the institution, I sensed something was wrong. I was so absorbed in these thoughts that when I was called to the pulpit, I automatically approached, stood up and just stood. When I was told by gestures what was required of me, I almost swallowed a vibrator on the machine. At the last moment, my throat clenched and the teacher managed to jump and pull him out of my mouth. With a laugh, he advised me not to soar in the clouds and noted my great relaxation of the larynx and the absence of a gag reflex. I admitted that, at one time, I had been training for four years in various objects at hand, to which the teacher advised me to think about switching to a more serious group. Returning to my place, I tried to throw the incident with the names out of my head, but, due to the lack of anything interesting in the lesson, my thoughts kept returning to this.

The next pair was “Stretching”. It had little to do with gymnastics. She taught the latex-tightened sisyastoe creation, with a gag in his mouth. For me it was a shock that not only the language barrier is leveled here. The teacher spoke to us on the alphabet of the deaf-and-dumb, quickly wielding his hands, and we were heard by a low female voice of humility, born somewhere in the head.

As it turned out, everyone present at the first lesson received homework and a personal-size butt plug. The task was the following: having installed the cork on the floor, one had to first sit on it to the ground, lift it above the floor and then push the muscles out of it. In turn, I was called to the pulpit.

“You weren't at the last lesson, right?” - The teacher asked, abundantly lubricating the hand tightened in latex.

- Yes, I'm sorry - I felt a lump in my throat. I understood perfectly well what would happen now and frantically thought how to avoid this fate.

- Get down on the table, - the teacher, nodded on the table for benefits. I lowered my stomach on the table, standing with my back to the teacher, - Not so, - she corrected me, - Poperek. Back to your mates.

I was taken aback. It’s one thing to be hand fucked in the ass, and it’s another thing to see the whole course. Seeing my confusion, Ling, who assisted the teacher, whispered to me: “You'd better go to bed yourself, friend. Don't upset Mrs. Leopold. ” I stared at him for evil, but I didn’t neglect advice - he had no reason to wish me harm so far. After all, he probably wanted to persuade me to his side. Maybe.

I lay down across the table and pulled up my hoodie, exposing my very rounded mosly. Mrs. teacher slowly walked around the table, standing in front of my face and, bending over me, began to knead my hole with my left hand. A recent incident in the medical center played into my hands - the little ring had practically no resistance and the first two fingers did not even cause me discomfort. On the fourth it became unpleasant, five fingers squeezed, but when she tried to shove a hand in me up to her knuckles, it became painful. My anus reflexively clenched, increasing the pain, but I quickly came to my senses and, with a sob, relaxed as much as possible. Mrs. Leopold grunted with satisfaction, twisted her hand a little and put the brush in until the end ... I sighed with relief, but early. With the fingers of the other hand, the teacher continued to stretch my ass, while gently moving my clenched fist in my left hand. Maybe someone like that, but for me it was a living hell.

The stretched hole burned with fire, the moving fist hurt something very painfully, the back was numb, the legs were slowly cramping. I was ready to scream in pain, when the lady suddenly pulled her hand out of me and gazed expressively at Ling. He immediately proceeded to the door, where the teachers usually left, and soon returned from there with an anal plug. She was black, short, gradually widening and very impressive. I don’t know for what purposes we were stretched, but this cork was at least ten centimeters in diameter in its widest place. It was difficult for me to imagine a member of this size, especially since I was trying to do it while the anal plug was pushed into my anus. And, judging by the sensations, sex with such a monster was subjected only as the death penalty. Seeing me in the hall, the lady advised me to lie in my place until the end of the lesson. Nothing else, in fact, remained to me.

Lying in my place, I was only thinking about how I could get out of this dumb place.