Chapter 71: Aspiring to Onago High School, the Onahole Specialized School
What job do girls admire the most these days? The kind of job they'd swear they'd pursue if only they had the aptitude and opportunity.
In the past, it might have been celebrities. But times have changed, and mindsets have shifted. In this modern era, the job women aspire to isn't some celebrity gig.
It's onahole.
Explaining why is tricky. Pubescent girls are mysterious creatures, their complexities venturing into uncharted territory. All we can say for sure is the observable fact: girls idolize onaholes.
Maybe it's the freedom to express their primal female instincts without shame—that could be the allure. But that's just speculation.
Still, becoming an onahole isn't easy. There are only two paths to official status: getting fucked by the recommender from an Onago High School and earning their endorsement, or enrolling in Onago High School itself.
A narrow gate, indeed.
The first route is impossible without running into the recommender by chance, and since their identities are total secrets, self-starters haven't a prayer. It's like winning the lottery on a random stroll.
So realistically, the only viable path for someone dead-set on becoming an onahole is straight-up admission to Onago High School.
Onago—short for Onahole Specialized High School—holds irregular transfer exams. Nail a stellar performance in one of their many admission tracks, and you're in.
Across the nation, high school girls confident in their bodies and pussies grind daily for a shot at Onago transfers.
Yoon Ji was one such girl.
"Ah, haah...♥ Ah, ah... haaa.....♥"
The girl sat in her entryway, rubbing her pussy. The front door stood wide open. Anyone climbing the stairs and passing by would get an eyeful of her exposed slit.
Undeterred, she squeezed her eyes shut, focused solely on stabbing her fingers in and out, building her pleasure.
Fortune or misfortune, no one passed. But the razor-edge thrill remained unchanged.
Panting raggedly, she kneaded the plump flesh of her thighs with one hand while teasing her clit and probing her depths with the other, cranking her arousal to the max.
Finally, her pussy squirted a jet of climax juice—spurt—and she came.
"Aaaah! C-cumming! Nn, nnghaaah♥ C-cuuuumiiing♥"
Her orgasmic screams rang loud enough for the neighbors, as if daring someone to hear. Even knowing ears might be listening only fueled her volume.
As the cries faded, she opened her eyes, her heaving chest rising and falling. Those half-lidded eyes gleamed with seductive allure, far beyond her high school years.
Aspiring to Onago, this was par for the course.
Instead of closing the door first, she checked her phone timer beside her ass. The stopwatch read just shy of 13 minutes—well over 10.
Yoon Ji furrowed her brows and clicked her tongue.
"Haa.. Over 10 minutes again. I needed to cut it at 5, at least.."
Onaholes sometimes had to hold back orgasms for a man's amusement, but generally, a pussy that got wet and came quick scored higher.
Ideally, one you could control at will: hold out for an hour or three if needed, or squirt your brains out from a single thrust if you wanted.
Yoon Ji wasn't an official onahole yet, so hitting that level was a stretch... but failing her goal still stung.
"Door open threw off my focus.. The tension messed me up.."
She knew that was no excuse. As an onahole, she might have to masturbate publicly for dozens or hundreds, per the user's whim. Dragging it out for 10 or 20 minutes? Unacceptable.
And today, to shave time, she'd even fantasized about her favorite jerk-off fuel: forced creampie from a massive, stinking, brutal cock. Still no dice.
Proof she had plenty of refining left.
With a deep sigh, Yoon Ji stood for a cup of water. She left the door unlocked. Rapists breaking in? No worry—welcome, even. A rape experience would boost her Onago specs big-time.
Regrettably, modern guys lacked the guts; few showed the drive to ravage a prime pussy like hers.
Men these days.
Refilling on water, she glanced in the mirror. Cute face, slim waist. Modest tits, but thighs so plump and touchable they compensated. Shoulder-length wavy hair. Her expressionless face lacked playfulness, but any onlooker would call her a beauty sure to stir boys' hearts.
Even she thought so.
But it wasn't enough for top-tier onahole material.
"Pretty faces alone don't cut it anymore. You need real pussy skills and standout appeal."
As her hook, Yoon Ji minimized chest exposure but highlighted ass and thighs with garters and T-backs. Hide flaws, flaunt strengths. Onahole basics.
"......"
She checked her phone calendar app. Official Onago applications in a month. Interviews and practicals a month after—admission locked then.
She had to grind till then... but...
"No clue which track to pick. So many options.."
Onago had tracks galore: Pussy Pet, NTR Maso, Mother-Daughter (or Sisters) Rice Bowl, General, and more.
Pick the best fit from the horde... but abundance bred hesitation.
Hard to consult anyone. Few knew Onago admissions inside out. As a brand-new specialized school, it was unprecedented.
Its interviews and practicals were worlds apart from normal exams—no one to guide her.
So Yoon Ji scoured past acceptees' stories and the curriculum online, practicing accordingly... but how effective? Even she couldn't say.
"...Can I really pass Onago? Haa.. Worried.."
Confidence waning, she revisited her roots: why idolize onaholes?
Familiar taps launched a saved video. Shot at an airport: a woman in nothing but perverted lingerie, riding a man cowgirl-style in service.
Rumor had it she was some country's princess. Small-nation royalty? Irrelevant to Yoon Ji.
Just another weirdo in the world. Human onaholes were trending? Not her scene.
But that princess's ecstatic face shattered her detachment. Bliss serving Cock-sama. Joy in shedding human rights for onahole depravity. Hips pistoning nonstop, vibrations and pleasure pulsing through the screen. And that radiant smile.
Yoon Ji had her share of guy experience—pretty face helped. Three boyfriends; the first dumped pre-sex, but the rest went all the way.
Yet during those fucks, serving cock never crossed her mind.
The video's onahole, pouring her soul into it? Overwhelming. Yoon Ji despised her own childish romps. Hand dove to pussy; she masturbated on impulse—rare loss of control.
That's an onahole. Prioritizing cock service with body and soul. Paradoxically gaining true happiness thereby.
Later learned: this princess was a dedicated toilet, exclusive to one owner. Details aside.
The essence of onahole beauty captivated Yoon Ji.
"I'll enroll in Onago and become a real onahole, no matter what."
She steeled herself. But how? The path to her dream felt so daunting. If only... someone could tutor her.