Reunion
In the dead of night, while everyone slept, I slipped carefully out of the dormitory. It was midwinter, and though I wore nothing but thin pajamas, strangely I couldn't feel the cold at all. Heart pounding with anticipation, I made my way toward the Annex, past the main building. The moment I pushed through the glass doors on the first floor, the moans of women lost in pleasure filled the entire building. "Ah... ahhn... aahhh..." The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and yet like nothing I'd ever heard before. I followed the sound, my chest hammering.
The source was underground. In one corner of a vast space stood a row of simple chairs, with men who appeared to be students scattered sparsely among them. Before the chairs was a stage, and on it a man and a woman were having sex. I took an empty seat in the front row. Beside me sat a stranger with his pants down, jerking off.
On stage, the man stood as he pounded into the woman from behind. She was crouched like a dog, her ass thrust up toward the man, her face turned toward the men seated in the audience. It was my mother. A face I had never once seen like this in my life. Whether from pleasure or pain, her teeth were clenched, drool dripping in long strands from her parted lips, her eyes rolled back nearly white. Every time the man drove into her, her heavy, sagging breasts swung as if they might tear free.
I looked around. The men each sat in their seats, cocks in hand, masturbating to the sight of my mother being fucked like a dog. The man beside me was shaking his cock like a madman too, and when I glanced at his face, it was my father. Looking strangely smaller and more shrunken than usual, he jerked himself off with a face twisted in fury, cursing the man on stage — that son of a bitch...
I turned my head back to the stage. The man fucking my mother in front of my father and me was the proctor, Yoo Chan-hyeong. Deliberately, brazenly, he met our eyes as he gripped my mother's soft waist and drove his filthy cock into her body again and again.
Then a strange sensation from below made me look down — a woman was sucking my cock. It was Yoon Ah-hyun. She knelt between my legs, staring up into my eyes as she sucked me off. Her hot, wet tongue slithered like a snake, coiling around my shaft. I couldn't hold back any longer. Just as I grabbed Yoon Ah-hyun's head, about to come straight into her mouth, laughter erupted all around me. The men nearby were laughing as they watched me. Yoon Ah-hyun was laughing too — even my father. The men leapt up onto the stage, threw themselves at my screaming mother, and shoved their cocks into that plump, soft body. I tried to stop them, but I couldn't — because Yoon Ah-hyun was sucking my cock so hard. In the end, watching my mother being gang-raped, I seized Yoon Ah-hyun's head and poured my cum down her throat.
When I opened my eyes, it was to an unfamiliar ceiling. It took me a long moment to remember where I was — the dormitory — and that today was my first day here. My lower half was soaked.
A wet dream, on the very first night...
Bitterly, I headed to the bathroom and pulled down my pants, doing my best to erase the images I'd seen in the dream from my mind.
All the students moved into the dormitory three days later, on the Friday just before the semester began. Over a hundred people arrived at once that day, and I couldn't tell what difference there was between them and those of us who had come earlier. As it turned out, everyone who had arrived early, like me, was assigned to the second floor, while the students who came all at once were placed on floors three through five. A small handful were assigned to the Annex — I assumed the dormitory simply couldn't house everyone, so part of the Annex was being used as overflow housing. Of course, that was a grave misunderstanding.
The first day was orientation. We received our textbooks and were briefed on the rules and instructions. Some of them I already knew. All electronic devices capable of communication or entertainment — smartphones, tablets, laptops, portable game consoles — were forbidden. Since I'd learned this through the mail, I hadn't brought any. Each room had an all-in-one PC, which could connect only to the academy's internal network using its assigned ID; through it we could access video lectures, study materials, and email. Entering another student's room was also forbidden. CCTV cameras lined every hallway, and we were told that anyone caught entering another student's room would be flagged immediately. These two rules were the most important of all — violate them, and you were expelled on the spot.
The 150 students in total were divided by academic ability into five classes of thirty each, and — to my considerable annoyance — the classes were named A, B, C, D, and F. I was assigned, of all things, to Class F. Class placement, however, would be reshuffled each month based on mock exam results. I would learn a few days later that all ten students assigned to the Annex were in Class A. Even if my class placement changed, my dorm room wouldn't, so there was no chance of my ever moving to the Annex. What made me envy those assigned there was learning that it also served as the instructors' residence.
Despite being an all-boys academy, more than half the teaching staff were women, and all of them were strikingly beautiful. Each subject had two or three instructors — one main instructor and the rest assistants — and by curious coincidence, all the men were main instructors while all the assistants were women. Among the rare few who were both women and main instructors was my interviewer, Yoon Ah-hyun, who taught English. But there were plenty of female teachers far younger and prettier than her. Living in the Annex alongside all those women — no wonder I envied them. The Annex housed male teachers as well, I reminded myself, and living among the instructors would only mean stricter control — and with those thoughts, I had no choice but to jerk off.
Each building had its own cafeteria, and the food was excellent. The infirmary had an actual doctor on staff, and even an ambulance in case anyone needed to be transported to a hospital. The doctor was a woman too — older-looking, but quite beautiful. Even the middle-aged women working in the cafeteria were pretty. There were so many beautiful women it felt almost strange, but from the students' perspective, as long as the quality was there, there was no reason to dislike being surrounded by pretty women.
The quality of instruction was superb. It was still the season of burning ambition, and not just me — all the students threw themselves into their studies. After afternoon classes, dinner, and a shower back in my room, I would sit back down at my desk to study on my own or catch video lectures on my weak points. In such a comfortable environment, with nothing to focus on but studying, I grew confident that if I just kept this up, I could get into medical school a year from now. After about a week, I noticed cliques forming among guys who'd grown close, but I'd never been the sociable type to begin with, and I didn't particularly want friends, so I didn't speak to anyone. None of the other students bothered to approach me either — the unremarkable loser of Class F.
Around the two-week mark, something began to bother me. The way the Annex group from Class A kept looking at me. I didn't know their names, and there was no way they knew mine, yet whenever I happened to glance up during a meal in the cafeteria, it felt like they were watching me — or talking about me. Quite often they'd be laughing innocently, murmuring happily among themselves, while their eyes stayed fixed on me. But I didn't have the courage to go over and confront them. Beyond the fact that they were the top group in Class A, there was something about them — an aura, almost. I'd seen kids like that back in school too. Overwhelming confidence. Whether from talent or circumstance, an unshakable certainty that they were special, superior, born above everyone else. Only people with the same level of self-esteem can stand up to people like that. I had none. Even though I was almost certain they were laughing at me, I deceived myself with the thought that I just didn't want the hassle, and forced myself to ignore them.
One day in the third week, I was eating lunch alone in the cafeteria when someone suddenly sat down across from me. A solid build, a friendly, easygoing face. He looked at me with a grin and said,
"Hey, you remember me, right?"
Who was this? Staring at him, his face did seem somehow familiar. As I was racking my memory, he spoke again.
"You're Lim Won-jung from XX Middle School, aren't you?"
It was definitely the name of the school I'd attended. And the memories started coming back. Short-cropped hair, tons of friends, the guy who always ran the final leg of the relay at every sports day... but his name wouldn't come.
"Ah... I think I remember you, but your name is..."
"Kim Se-hwan, you idiot. Remember now?"
That was it. That was his name. Unlike me — good at studying, hopeless at sports — he'd been great at sports and terrible at school. Cheerful and unpretentious, he got along with everyone; he'd talk comfortably even to a friendless kid like me, and whenever I was walking home alone he'd come sprinting up out of nowhere and throw an arm around my shoulder. He was also the son of the family that ran the local snack shop, and his mother was quite the beauty, which made her popular among the adolescent boys of the neighborhood. We'd been in the same class in second year of middle school, and the year we moved to third year he transferred somewhere else and the snack shop disappeared — but I still remembered blushing as I snuck glances at the cleavage of the woman who handed out the food there. His mother.