Common Sense at the Entrance Ceremony (1)
The moment I stepped into the auditorium for the entrance ceremony, my jaw dropped wide open. Geon-yul had given me a rundown on the way here, but hearing about it was one thing—seeing it with my own eyes was a whole different level of impact.
"Whoaaa...."
The guys were all clustered on the left side, while the girls were gathered on the right. The boys sat primly in their neat uniforms on proper chairs, but the girls... they were a different story.
First up, the Woman Class. They were lined up farthest left in the girls' section, sitting normally. Their uniforms weren't all that different from the ones back in my original world—no exposed navels, no panties peeking out from under their skirts. And yet, even at a glance, their chairs looked subtly more uncomfortable than the boys' on the left. Even if the Woman Class was treated like actual humans on par with men, there was still some invisible discrimination at play.
"At least the Woman Class has it good."
Things got progressively worse the farther right you went. Starting with the Bitch Class, they had to wear those problematic uniforms. Without chairs, the Bitch Class girls stood on their own two feet, their skirts fluttering in the slightest breeze to flash their panties below.
"My spot... over there, huh."
Next came my class, the Bitch Class. This was where it got truly unbearable to watch with eyes wide open. Sure, you had to angle your gaze downward to peek at the Bitch Class girls' underwear when the wind blew—but the Bitch Class girls were bent over with their asses thrust back, blatantly on display for anyone to see. They were literally down on all fours like actual bitches in heat.
What the hell is this? Treating humans like livestock?
The girl in front had her panty-clad crotch right in the face of the one behind her—basically shoving her bare ass in her face—while the one behind did the same to the next, and so on. They had to endure the entrance ceremony sniffing their front neighbor's pussy scent the whole time. Who the hell thought this was a good idea and made them line up like that?
I steeled myself and crawled to the very end of the line, getting down on all fours. Not everyone was here yet, so someone would probably join behind me eventually, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about that for a while.
That's the Onahole Class over there...
The classes below mine were an even bigger spectacle. The giveaway was the colorful rubber belts strapped around their waists—empty condom holsters, like an invitation to whip one out and shove it in anytime. And their lineup method... it was so outrageous that even I, who'd been shocked by the Bitch Class posture just moments ago, now thought they might actually be treated humanely by comparison.
"Ah... aaht! Hnngh, hng, hnnph."
"Oooohk...!"
"Hyat, ha, ahat, too th-thick!"
Every time a new girl arrived, lewd moans erupted from the Onahole Class line. The ones already seated had flushed faces, tongues lolling out red and long, eyes rolled back—full-on ahegao expressions.
Those things stuck to the floor... dildos, right?
Onahole Class girls looked like they were just sitting normally at first glance. It even seemed better than the Bitch Class, where one wrong move meant burying your nose in the front girl's ass or brushing your own against the face behind you—pretty embarrassing stuff.
"H-hiiik♡ It's going so deeeep♡"
But no—they were already impaled on the dildos in full cowgirl position. That explained the cold sweat beading on every forehead. Panties shoved aside or fully off, variations aside, they were all skewered on massive dildos.
"Aahuuuung♡"
"Hey, you onahole—quiet down a bit♡ You think you're the only one with a dildo stuffed in?"
"S-sorrryyy...."
"If you know, then hnnnght... wipe up that piss you just squirted when you shoved it in! You made the floor all filthy, haaaang...."
"To get a rag, I'd have to stand up and pull it out again..."
"Not my problem—spit on your pussy and ease it out slow. Can't even squirt some water, you onahole?"
The girl who'd just arrived, tense and fumbling to align her pussy before slamming down, let out an explosive moan and pissed herself cumming the instant it went in. The others offered advice, and following it, she spat on her fingers, slathered her pussy lips, and slowly—agonizingly slowly—lifted her hips to stand.
"Ohhoooook♡"
But her waist gave out, she collapsed back down harder, unleashing an even louder, nastier moan. It was embarrassing just to watch. In the end, some kind Bitch Class girls next door wiped up the piss for her, but she never lifted her head the whole time.
And finally, the Toilet Meat Class... no line? The Onahole Class was the end, right? Puzzled, I glanced around and spotted a few in the auditorium corners or hallways, surrounded by guys getting railed or abused. Their uniforms were soaked in piss and cum, hair and curvy bodies likewise drenched. They looked every bit the meat toilets their name implied.
Nicknamed cum dumps for a reason, they were working overtime right from the entrance ceremony. Eagerly offering their bodies to boys needing to relieve bladder or balls, surrounded by cocks of all kinds, gulping down every filthy fluid.
They didn't even look human anymore.
"Ahaat♡ So gooood♡ I love cock-sama♡ Gimme more cooock♡"
"Whoa, fuck. She's in heat as hell."
"Want some piss too?"
"Dump it all in this toilet♡ You're so cool and strooong♡ Please cum in this dogpussy meat toilet!"
"Hey, you guys! Keep it down in the bathroom!"
A fed-up Woman Class girl finally yelled at them, but the boys ignored her, toying with the wrecked Toilet Meat Class girl like a plaything.
"Heheeng... More cum, more piiss, pleeease...."
Even taking it like that, she didn't hate it—maybe she saw receiving guys' cum and piss as her sacred duty. Seeing those Toilet Meat Class girls give their all made my belly twinge.
What... what's this feeling?
It was lewd as hell. Scenes rarer than rare in hardcore AVs or 19+ comics, playing out live in front of me, in ultra-HD quality. I got aroused without realizing it.
A woman's body is weird. As a guy, it'd just be a boner—but this body made my belly flutter, sticky juices leaking into my panties to soak them. My nipples hardened so much they poked visibly through my shirt, no bra to hide them. Not like I was advertising it—what the hell!
I casually raised an arm to cover my chest, rubbed my thighs together, and hurried to my spot. Or rather... got down like a dog.
"Ngh."
Bending at the waist and dropping to my knees hiked my skirt, fully exposing my panties. My hefty tits swayed with burdensome weight. Passing girls giggling or boys chuckling made me feel like they were mocking my panty-flashing pose. I wanted to believe it was paranoia, but the shame was intense.
Better not look ahead, right?
Two thoughts clashed in my head: the urge to peek at the panties in front of me, versus it being wrong—even in this world, I had to hold onto my humanity. But as always, desire won.
I cracked my eyes open, subtly lifting my head to peer straight ahead.
"...Hnnph!"
I tried not to make a sound, but my breath caught anyway. Sure, the ass was huge and hot, but... these panties are way too slutty, aren't they? Never thought I'd see leopard-print panties up close in real life. Tanned skin outside made it even lewder. Like those tanned gal types from porn comics.
Lifting my upper body a bit to peek past her back, I saw wavy blonde hair. Yup, full-on that concept.
"Hey, what're you doing?"
"Huh? You talking to me?"
"Yeah, you. My ass behind you. Dunno what you look like, but why're you sniffing my ass like a perv?"
"Sniffing? No! I wasn't!"
I jolted upright—forgetting I couldn't see her face—and shook my head frantically. Her voice was clear, but all I saw was ass; it felt like chatting with a talking butt. So weird.
Damn, why's she so scary?
She was younger than my mental age, but one word and I was cowed. Reflexive, like facing a delinquent girl from back home. Cocky tone, weird perfume, freaky panties. Even tough girls wouldn't wear leopard print, but this was a porn comic world, after all.
"Really? Fine then. If you had a dick, I'd spread my pussy lips wide for ya—but you're here too, so you're just another pussy bitch like me."
"Ah, uh... yeah."
"What? Why so timid? Gimme your name. Kinda awkward talking like this."
I stared at her leopard panties again. First words were a curse-bomb, scary vibe—but up close, she didn't seem bad. Her words were nuts, sure, but that was this world.
Feeling like I was still talking to her ass, I gave my name.
"Yoo Chae-a. Call me Chae-a. Twenty, same Bitch Class as you."
"Hnng, same age. I'm Geum Ye-rin. Say hi if you see me around school. Friends are nice. This is fate, y'know."
"Y-yeah, fate."
First day, and my first friend was this blonde tanned delinquent type oozing vibe. Back then, I'd have loved it—now, who knows. They say your first friend matters most. As I pondered pushing the convo or bailing, someone joined behind me—I gasped in surprise.
"Hey, but Chae-a."
"Yeah?"
"Stop huffing your hot breath on my pussy, fuck. It's making me wet. Not my owner—just another bitch like me getting wet is embarrassing."
"Ah... sorry."
The moment I replied, Ye-rin reached back, flipped her panty crotch aside, and flashed her glistening pussy. Clear droplets beaded there, just like she said.
"See? Skin's dark, but this is pink. Hehe."
"......"
First day of school. I saw my first friend's pussy before her face.