Bambi's New Normal Ep. 06

Bambi woke up the second time disappointingly empty.

For a few seconds she lay still beneath the sheets, staring at the pale ceiling and trying to remember what day it was.

Right. Wednesday. Health 101.

She shifted her legs and felt the sheets drag softly against her skin. She slipped one hand beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts and found the cotton thoroughly soaked. A little flutter moved through her stomach. Bambi withdrew it almost immediately, marvelling over the pinkened wetness glittering on her hand.

Bambi frowned curiously down at herself. Her pussy was especially sticky, and she smelled not quite sweet, but somehow inviting, like something that made her think of warmth and comfort and fertility.

There was a large wet patch on the bed. She looked down at herself, then at the sheet in her hands. She should have been mortified. Bambi stretched, luxuriating in the strange, aching emptiness low in her abdomen. Why should she be embarrassed? The diaphragm had to dissolve after all.

Bambi's belly had flattened in the night, she discovered. She didn't like it as much as she expected. She almost missed the feeling of fullness in her womb.

But her alarm was beeping, and Tessa was stirring with a low, husky groan, some naturally sexy sound that would have sounded ridiculous a few days ago.

Bambi threw the covers back. The sheets came with them, clinging to her thighs before peeling away. She stared at the dark dampness on the sheet, then gathered the sheet into her arms.

As she bent over, she realized she liked the position. Her ass sticking out behind her, her pussy pink and dripping beneath her shorts, felt completely natural. She had no instinct to cover herself. Quite the opposite. It felt good. Bambi wanted her ass out, wanted to present. There was a heaviness low in her hips, a sort of expectancy, some kind of hunger she couldn't quite pin down.

Bambi smiled into her bundle while Tessa slunk about the room, getting ready, shimmying into skirts fitting shorter and tighter than they had only a few days ago.

As Tessa posed in a mirror, Bambi twirled into a new sundress, delighting in the swish of the fabric and the way it brushed against her thighs. It felt so good to touch herself, and she was lost in rubbing, rubbing, rubbing lotion on her legs until she noticed the time.

Bambi shook her head, turned towards Tessa, and oh, wow. Tessa was beautiful.

Bambi had always known that. This was different somehow. She stood watching as Tessa slowly drew her hairbrush through gold, morning light catching individual strands as they spilled over her shoulders.

"You've brushed that side three times."

Tessa blinked. "Oh." She laughed.

The laugh was contagious. It bubbled up easily now, bright and light in Bambi's chest, and she had to press her lips together to keep focused.

The dormitory bathroom was crowded, so they shared a sink near the end of the hall. Bambi brushed her teeth while Tessa fiddled with her mascara. Her reflection looked back at her with wide brown eyes and flushed cheeks.

A girl from across the hall was reapplying lip gloss over and over and over while staring into the mirror, mouth hanging open, eyes dull and starting to drool.

The toothbrush felt good in Bambi's mouth. She let it rest against her tongue. Then she pushed it farther back. She loved the pressure of something pushing down on her tongue. She opened her mouth wider and pushed the handle toward the back of her throat.

Would she be able to get a cock that deep?

Tessa coughed meaningfully.

Bambi started, nearly choking on the toothbrush. She stared at herself in the mirror. What the fuck? Oh, silly, she shouldn't try to deepthroat her toothbrush. What if she swallowed her toothpaste?

She rinsed her mouth. Bambi stared down at her sink, bizarrely disappointed, as a swirl of pink washed down the drain. Her mouth felt like it was missing something now. Like it wasn't supposed to be empty.

"Bambi?"

"Mm?"

"We're going to be late."

--

Bambi felt unaccountably unconcerned about her rising horniness.

She was used to waking with a vague malaise, an existential dread that had begun with her first period at twelve and had apparently ended sometime last night. Or perhaps the night before? Time was a slippier concept than it used to be.

Eventually Tessa tugged her into the commissary.

The dining hall was already busy. Students streamed between the breakfast counters with trays in their hands, talking over the hiss of the coffee machines and the clatter of dishes. Along the wall beside the seating area stood a row of refrigerated vending machines, each one brightly lit and covered in cheerful advertisements.

Bambi slowed as they passed.

The next machine advertised COWGIRL MILK™, a thick-looking energy-and-recovery drink decorated with a busty cartoon cowgirl and the words BUILD YOUR BEST BODY. Another offered SUCCUBUS SPIT™, a glossy red "semen enhancer" whose label promised to make the drinkers' cum addictive.

Then came the women's products.

SUNNYBROOK™ ORGANIC REPRODUCTIVE NUTRITION was sold in little glass bottles that looked almost exactly like old-fashioned milk bottles. The label promised Locally Sourced. Pasteurized. Hormone-Free. Beneath it, smaller print advertised protein, amino acids, and essential micronutrients.

Bambi stared at the bottled semen, sitting in a refrigerated vending machine beside breakfast.

"Come on, Bam." Tessa was already halfway to the breakfast line.

Bambi hurried after her, the smell of bacon and butter making her stomach twist pleasantly. She could feel people looking at her. Yesterday, that would have made her shoulders creep upward and her attention turn inward. This morning, she noticed the looks, felt the warmth they sent through her skin, and found herself enjoying them.

Tessa seemed to know half the people in the dining hall already. She waved to girls from across the room, called hello to someone passing behind them, and laughed at something a boy said as they carried their trays toward the windows.

Bambi was content to watch her, echoing Tessa's smiles and enjoying a slice of bacon.

Then she noticed the boys at the end of the table. The ones from yesterday. The ones she'd watched like a total pervert. Her pussy clenched at the memory.

Two of them were still rubbing sleep from their eyes, their hair mussed, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath the table as they attacked enormous breakfasts.

Marcus, the professor's son, joined them a moment later. He was quieter. He ate with quick, economical movements, barely looking up between bites as the other two talked.

Bambi admired the breadth of his shoulders, the straightness of his back. The way he wasn't jostled between the two larger boys, despite them towering over him.

She watched under her lashes, nibbling her eggs, as he ate. She wondered what he tasted like, as she sipped her tea, wondered what it would be like if she were kneeling between his legs, his hands in her hair the way he'd gripped that other girl yesterday. How his voice would sound as he came down her throat, ordering her to grind against a pillow, while she wore his jacket...

Bambi shivered. She'd shrugged on a sweater that fit comfortably yesterday morning, but now the buttons pulled tight across her chest. Tessa fairly bounced toward their first class, but Bambi kept fiddling with the fuzzy-knit cardigan, fastening and unfastening the buttons and enjoying the soft brush of her wrists against her fuller breasts.

They passed the campus bookstore on their way to class. New SmartWatches sparkled beneath the window lights, each one displayed on a little stand beneath a pink-and-red glittering banner that proudly proclaimed: FOR THE BUSY BIMBOS ON THE GO! Three bottle-blonde girls had stopped just inside the window, cooing over a bedazzled plaid model.

Bambi glanced back at the display as they hurried on. Tessa was already half a dozen steps ahead, her bag bouncing against her hip.

"Come on, Bam!"

Bambi hurried after her.

--

The Health 101 classroom was a lecture hall larger than Bambi had expected. Dark wood paneling lined the walls beneath tall windows, from which morning sunlight fell in pale bands across rising rows of desks.

A broad lecture platform occupied the front of the room, its dark wood trim concealing a seamless glass console. A massive display was built into the wall behind the professor's lectern, currently dark enough to resemble a blackboard. Beside it, heavy curtains stretched all the way to the door. The sleek white and chrome feet of what could have been medical equipment stood arranged along one side of the platform, most of it hidden behind a heavy curtain.

Bambi hesitated near the front row. A nagging feeling clung to her, a sense that she had forgotten something important, but everyone else was already finding their seats.

The girls settled into their chairs with breezy confidence. Some moved with a practiced roll of the hips. They seemed to know exactly how to be looked at. They knew how to cross a room full of boys without shrinking from the attention. They crossed a room full of boys without shrinking from the attention. Bambi saw it in their flirty smirks, their knowing glances, the casual way they adjusted their hair or leaned against a chair.

The boys sprawled in their seats, long legs stretched beneath the desks. When two chatting girls took too long choosing a seat, a boy near her hooked two fingers around the belt loop of her skirt and tugged her toward an empty chair. Another guy caught her friend around the waist and turned her neatly into place beside him. The girls squealed and laughed, swatting at their hands before settling into their seats with bright, flirtatious smiles.

What a pleasant nightmare.

Bambi wondered if she would somehow wake up bright and early one morning and find that the rules had finally uploaded into her head, somehow simply knowing what to do. Know when to smile, when to bat her lashes, when to lean in.

At the front of the room stood a tall middle-aged man, silver at his temples and broad across the shoulders. He looked out across the room as if daring someone to come and impress him. He did not look like a man easily impressed.

When he spoke, his voice carried effortlessly through the lecture hall.

"I am Dr Brood," he said. "I've been teaching Reproductive Health 101 for thirty-one years. I had the privilege of seeing the very first booster generation mature into adulthood. I have likely taught your parents. I have most certainly taught your older siblings. I have seen thousands of young men and women come through this classroom."

Bambi pulled her sweater tighter around herself and scooted closer to Tessa.

"Some of you may feel nervous today. Those of you who have spoken with upperclassmen already on campus have surely heard of Health's reputation."

A few students laughed. Mostly boys.

"But there is nothing to fear. This course is designed to give you a practical understanding of your bodies, your relationships, and your responsibilities as adults."

The professor rested one hand against the edge of the lectern.

"You will study reproductive anatomy and hormonal development. You will learn about fertility, pregnancy, family planning, communication and consent, relationship formation, and the practical realities of healthy adult intimacy."

"Yes, you will participate in guided exercises. This course makes use of class participation wherever possible and, while not unorthodox," he sniffed, "perhaps unfamiliar assignments."

He looked sternly across the rows of seats.

"Understand that, now that you, too, are new, vaccinated adults, it is my job to ensure you are prepared for the modern, manmade world."

His firm expression softened into something almost genial.

"Miss Parkinson. Miss O'Malley. Up front, please."

Bambi's stomach dropped. She felt every pair of eyes on them--boys sitting straighter in their chairs, girls whispering behind their hands. Their attention prickled and raised goosebumps along her overheated skin.

Dr Brood turned toward the heavy curtains. With one hand, he pulled them aside. The wall behind them was nothing like the old-fashioned classroom. A recessed laboratory occupied the entire length of the room, all white surfaces and seamless glass, with sleek medical equipment arranged beneath discreet strips of lighting.

"Stand here," the professor directed. He motioned toward a sleek scanning frame. Two upright scanners flanked a low platform, translucent panels glowing beneath their feet.

"Now, these are our two volunteers. Both received the standard female dose Sunday evening, so we should be just over sixty hours in."

Bambi exchanged a wide-eyed look with Tessa before stepping onto the platform.

Dr Brood tapped the screen, and the image changed to a pair of silhouettes labeled PARKINSON and O'MALLEY.

The scanner hummed to life. A band of light swept slowly over her from head to toe, pausing briefly at her head, chest, abdomen, and pelvis. Bambi shivered as it passed over her skin. The sensation was feather-light, but there was something strangely intimate about being examined so completely without anyone touching her.

A slowly rotating three-dimensional rendering of her body appeared on the screen above the lectern. With a gesture from the professor, the image changed. Layers of the rendering peeled away, revealing a glowing network of organs and vessels beneath the skin. Every detail the scanner captured was reproduced with neon clarity.

The professor clasped his hands behind his back, smiling warmly. "Class, these are your aides. Their renderings will be updated weekly, allowing us to track how pregnancy develops the body." He gestured with a slight tilt of his head toward the row of shining white plastic-and-chrome medical appliances standing inside of the revealed lab portion of the lecture hall.

"Now, I am well aware that the theoretical frameworks of gestational biology can be... daunting," he paused, his gaze drifting across the room. It lingered a second too long on the women in the front row, a flicker of barely concealed condescension crossing his features. "Since this course is a general education requirement, we shall use practical, visual examples. I find that a more intuitive approach helps everyone, especially those of you who might struggle with the more rigorous clinical data, to keep pace with the curriculum."

A second window appeared beside the silhouettes, showing their baseline measurements and current measurements.

"You can see the most obvious changes here. Both our aides have begun gaining breast tissue, particularly through the upper and lateral portions of the breast. Their waist measurements have decreased slightly, while their hips and thighs have increased. These are early changes. They're going to become considerably more pronounced before quarantine is over."

"As you can see," he gestured to both of their pelvises lit up in bright pink, "We have already initiated a prime fertile phase. To ensure the timing of our observations remains surgically precise, our aides have been administered a potent ovulation inducer."

He enlarged another diagram. Bambi's heart thudded, the glow of the scanner painting her skin, her entire transformation projected above her head for everyone to see.

Tessa, by comparison, looked perfectly at ease posing on glowing display. Her mouth curved just so, and when the machinery hummed to life, she gave the class a little turn that made several of the boys sit up straighter. Bambi knew that face--the coy, practiced smile, the subtle tilt of the head. She'd seen Tessa make it at parties, in photographs, around boys she liked, around adults she wanted to impress. Having known Tessa since they were children, Bambi knew the difference between Tessa being genuinely delighted and Tessa deciding that looking delighted was easier. There was something unreal about it, something perfect and practiced and artificial. Except lately, Bambi wasn't sure anymore. Tessa's mask was too perfect.

Bambi couldn't see much difference at all between the Tessa standing on the platform and the Tessa she had known yesterday, either. Tessa had always been tall and toned, with long legs and a figure that made clothes look as though they'd been designed around her. Whatever was happening outside was subtle to her. Inside, though, the display was almost incandescent. Different regions around her brain glowed pink, the light continuing down her spine and spreading through her pelvis. Even more dramatically, her fertility markers were glowing with the same bright red "OVULATING" tag as Bambi's own display.

Dr Brood paced the front of the lecture hall, the rhythmic click-clack of his polished oxfords echoing against the floor.

"Their reproductive systems are already becoming more active, and, as mentioned, fertility is increasing. The other major changes at this stage are in the nervous system. Their brains are also responding to the altered hormonal environment. Post-vaccinated women, as we know, experience elevated libido and contentment. But what does that look like in the brain?"

Bambi tried to follow the explanation. Dr Brood started talking about neural activity, hormonal signaling, metabolic prioritization. Something about the hypothalamus. Something about reward pathways.

A final overlay appeared across the brain, and Bambi caught fragments of the labels before they changed again: affective processing, attention reallocation--

Tessa looked over her shoulder at the screen. For just an instant, Bambi caught something underneath her friend's bright expression. Her eyes flicked across the display. Her stupid smile stayed perfectly in place, but there was tension around her mouth.

The professor clicked back to zoom in on the two silhouettes. "There's also increased blood flow and sensitivity in the breasts and external genitalia. The nipples in particular become much more responsive very early in the process. The clitoris swells and darkens to permanent prominence."

Bambi's cheeks flamed. She knew exactly what the scanner was showing now. The swollen, cherry-red bud that had been scraping against her gusset of her panties all morning, so sensitive that she was certain she'd already soaked through the cotton.

She wanted to tug her cardigan tighter, to cover herself, but the screen stripped her naked in statistics. She heard the murmurs ripple through the students filing in, felt the weight of male eyes lingering on her apex of her hips, female eyes darting between their own bodies and hers.

At least I have all my clothes on, Bambi thought.

The hum of the scanner died down, leaving Bambi and Tessa standing in the glow of their rotating, rendered selves. The professor adjusted his spectacles, his expression a mix of genial condescension and clinical detachment.

He stepped toward the front of the stage and produced a small, lacquered box. He gestured to Bambi and Tessa. "Now, young ladies, part of your role as aides will involve transparency. Please remove your undergarments and place them here."

Bambi's brown eyes widened, freckles stark against her flushed cheeks. She opened her mouth, but no words came out--only a faint squeak of disbelief.

Tessa just tossed her head, chin held high. She hiked her skirt up just enough, tugged her panties off, and dropped them lightly into the box. "Bam," She nudged the brunette. Bambi had spent her entire life being competent, modest, prepared. Now she felt...

reduced.

Bambi took a deep breath. Her fingers trembled as she reached under her sundress, tugging her wet cotton panties down her thighs. The cool air against her wet slit made her shiver, and she quickly balled the fabric in her fist.

The little bundle of cotton landed beside Tessa's with a soft, humiliating plop.

"Good," Dr Brood said calmly, shutting the lid and setting it aside. "Now, please approach the apparatus."

To one side of the stage stood a sturdy chair, simple but bolted to the floor, with rods rising from the back. Beside it was a stranger device: an arched padded bench with leather straps at the arms.

Bambi's stomach lurched at the sight. She stared at the arched bench, her mouth going dry, her mind whispering trap, her body whispering, fun.

Tessa's grin was equal parts brave and resigned. "I'll take the scary one." She strode forward, flopping onto the arched pillow as if it were a massage table, holding her arms out for the straps.

Bambi exhaled shakily, relief and guilt mixing, and slid into the normal-looking chair. The seat was cold through the thin fabric of her dress. I got the safe one, she thought with guilty relief.

She barely had time to adjust her skirt before Dr Brood clicked handcuffs around her wrists, securing them to the rods behind.

Her eyes flew wide. "B-but--"

"Relax," Dr Brood said gently, as though soothing a skittish animal. "The scanners require immobility, for your safety."

The screen above them shifted. Their rendered bodies mimicked them perfectly: Tessa bent over the arched bench, Bambi upright in the chair, both projected in exact detail. With a flick of Dr Brood's hand, their clothing disappeared in the render, leaving 3-D nude figures rotating in the air.

Murmurs rippled through the freshmen seated in the hall. Bambi squirmed against her cuffs, her face burning with embarrassment and something else - a thrill she couldn't quite place. Her nipples were hard, her skin prickled, her eyes were wet, and she could feel the dampness, too, between her thighs. She tried to focus on anything but the towering render of her body, but her eyes kept drifting back to the pink glow reflected on the pale walls of the classroom auditorium.

Dr Brood raised a hand, silencing the whispers. "Observe. These young women exemplify the effects of the vaccine and of the induction treatment they received yesterday. You see here--" he gestured at Bambi's rendering, zooming in until her pelvis filled the screen--"the ovaries. Note the enlarged follicles. The solution they received was designed to push their cycles into peak fertility within twenty-four hours. Both Miss Parkinson and Miss O'Malley are now in a properly receptive state."

The render shifted, showing her internal organs glowing faintly. Bambi gasped softly as her own uterus appeared ten feet tall above her, her ovaries pulsing like twin pomegranates.

"Notice also the vascularization," Dr Brood continued smoothly, pointing out highlighted blood flow through their uteruses and vaginal canals. "This explains the heightened sensitivity many of you may already be experiencing. Increased circulation creates both greater lubrication and greater arousal response."

Bambi's heart hammered as her naked render spun slowly overhead, every detail of her transformation on display. She felt Tessa's eyes on her from the bench, and when she risked a glance sideways, her friend was grinning fixedly despite the restraints, making eyes at the guys nearest to her.

The renderings spun silently overhead as Dr Brood adjusted a control on the podium. "Now that you understand the ovulation induction process, we will demonstrate the two standard methods used in surrogacy and reproductive health programs. Miss O'Malley will illustrate intravaginal insemination via injection, while Miss Parkinson will show a continuous insemination protocol using a mechanical surrogate device."

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the freshmen seated in the tiered hall. Bambi's fingers strained against the cuffs behind her chair as her pulse skittered. Tessa gave her a quick, sideways wink that was equal parts bravado and terror.

"First, Miss O'Malley," Dr Brood said, stepping toward the arched bench. He lifted an instrument from a sterile tray: long, chrome, phallic in shape, its tip rounded and gleaming with gel. "This injector contains a double dose of biological material. To increase pregnancy success rates, the mixture is delivered gradually, and the subject must be in a state of orgasmic receptivity."

Bambi watched Tessa's face. Her friend's fingers flexed against the restraints. Her smile had disappeared. Her eyes squeezed shut.

Bambi's stomach twisted. "Tess?" she whispered.

Tessa opened her eyes and looked straight at her.

For one second neither of them moved.

Then Tessa smiled. It was utterly, symmetrically sweet.

Bambi hated that smile.

He positioned the device at Tessa's cunt. She gasped, eyes wide, wrists bound to the armrests, as he violated her in one steady thrust. The professor's tone never faltered.

"Observe the physiological response." He pressed the injector into her, and her body jerked, the muffled whimper spilling into the microphone feed. On the screen above, her 3D rendering flared red at her vaginal canal and cervix.

With one hand steadying the injector, Dr Brood used the other to demonstrate: kneading her ass, pinching her protruding nipples through her blouse, stroking her clit until she writhed. "Orgasm nearly triples conception probability in ovulating subjects. Note Miss O'Malley' hips rocking without conscious control. This indicates a favorable response."

When her cry split the air, trembling, the hall rustled with a mix of shocked laughter, nervous silence, and breathless anticipation. Dr Brood only nodded. "As you see."

He withdrew slightly, leaving the injector buried. "This device will release its contents gradually, simulating coitus. As you can see, the insemination device requires manual control, making this an excellent opportunity for hands-on participation. There is little value in teaching reproductive health as a purely theoretical subject when you have the opportunity to learn through direct experience. But one student cannot hold it alone for the entire session. Volunteers?"

Hands rose hesitantly, then more eagerly. He beckoned the first forward, a tall boy with trembling hands. "Hold here. Thrust steadily. Change partners every few minutes."

Soon a rotation was established, students cycling in and out, guiding the injector into Tessa's bound, writhing body as she moaned through clenched teeth, her belly slowly swelling with the thick white mixture.

The faces blurred together after a while, their hands slick with Tessa's juices as they passed the injector along. Bambi caught glimpses instead: a familiar jacket, a boy's nervous hands, someone laughing too loudly. Then Marcus stepped forward. His gaze never left Tessa's writhing form. He took the injector, his fingers wrapping around it like he knew exactly what to do.

Bambi sat frozen, her breath shallow, her gaze flicking between the live scene beside her and the towering render on the screen just behind her. Horror churned in her stomach, but so did heat, slick dampness spreading from her lap, her pussy flush and pink and begging for her turn. Shame and arousal tangled into one unbearable knot.

Bambi watched, her eyes glazed over with arousal and humiliation, as Marcus positioned himself behind Tessa. He was closer now, close enough for her to see the muscles in his arms, the way his jaw tightened as he concentrated. She could hear his breathing, ragged and heavy, matching Tessa's moans.

Marcus thrust the injector into Tessa, and she cried out, her body jerking. Bambi could see the white mixture glistening on the device, could see it sliding into Tessa's cunt. She felt a pang of jealousy, of longing, as she watched the boy breed her friend.

Tessa's cries grew louder, more desperate, as Marcus thrust into her, his arm moving in a steady rhythm. Bambi could see the wetness on his hands, could hear the sloppy sounds of Tessa's cunt being filled. She could smell the musk of their combined arousal, thick and heavy in the air.

As Marcus withdrew, Bambi could see the white mixture coating his fingers, could see the way it glistened in the harsh lights of the lecture hall. He passed the injector to the next student, his hands still slick with Tessa's juices.

Bambi's gaze lingered on those hands, on the way they gripped the injector, on the way they had gripped Tessa. She couldn't help but imagine those hands on her, filling her, making her cry out like her friend. Yet, she was perversely so, so grateful Tessa had been the one chosen to go first. Bambi clung to her naivety, held onto an absurd hope that perhaps she might be skipped over this time, if only she might drop the class before next time--

Until Dr Brood turned toward her.

"Miss Parkinson," he said gently, as though inviting her into a conversation. He pressed a button on the chair.

A hidden mechanism whirred. A thick, gleaming dildo slid upward from the seat, already dripping with a slick sheen of lube.

Bambi's eyes went wide, mind scrabbling for an escape route, knees spread wide. "Wait, I--"

The chair shifted, tilting her hips forward. In one smooth thrust, the dildo speared into her, driving deep until it knocked bluntly against her cervix. She shrieked, the sound breaking into a moan, her wrists rattling the cuffs.

Somewhere in the lecture hall, somebody chuckled.

"Observe the lubricant," Dr Brood explained calmly to the class, even as Bambi's body shook around the intrusion. "Specially formulated to enhance sensation. Unlike Miss O'Malley, Miss Parkinson will not be filled until she achieves orgasm three times." He held up three fingers for the class. "Only then will the machine dispense the semen supplement."

The dildo began to piston, steady and relentless, battering her cervix with each thrust. Bambi writhed, tears springing to her eyes, her lips parting in helpless cries.

"Notice her nipples swelling and her change in breathing," Dr Brood pointed out, gesturing to the screen where her render showed her breasts flushed, legs spread open, impaled on a neon cock. "Her vaginal canal is already spasming in response to stimulation. When she climaxes, you will see the corresponding spike on the heart rate monitor."

The hall was silent but for the sound of her moans and the soft slap of the machine's rhythm.

"When insemination begins," Dr Brood continued evenly, "the base of the device will swell, forming a seal. This prevents leakage, ensuring maximum conception probability even in a seated subject."

Bambi gasped, her whole body trembling, humiliation and arousal bleeding together until she could no longer tell one from the other. She stared at the backlit wall, unable to bear looking at anyone. On the screen, her body glowed with each spasm, a living diagram of her own surrender.

She thought she could hold out, but the chair's thrusts were merciless, the lube making every stroke feel molten. Her belly already ached with fullness, her thighs slick with shameful wetness, and the class watched every twitch, every moan. And she knew: the machine wouldn't stop until it wrung three orgasms out of her, until she was filled, sealed, knotted, and displayed just like Tessa.

Bambi's thighs tightened. She was going to cum in front of everyone.

"No," she whispered. Worse.

She was going to breed herself in front of everyone.

Bambi's pussy throbbed in time with Tessa's cries, her own need growing with each thrust. She could feel the dildo inside her, could feel the way it stretched her, filled her. She didn't want, no, she did want, ugh, she didn't want to admit that she wanted, yearned, ached to be filled like Tessa, wanted to feel that thickness, that heat.

Her clit throbbed against the dildo's movement. The pressure built too quickly. She tried to think about something else, anything else--the lecture hall, the windows, the dark wood, Tessa--

Her whole pussy clenched. Her back arched off the chair, her thighs shook, and a helpless cry tore out of her. The monitor above her spiked at exactly the same moment.

A few students laughed nervously. Someone whispered, "Wow."

"Excellent," Dr Brood said. "There. You can see the involuntary pelvic contractions accompanying orgasm."

Bambi pulsed around the dildo. Her clit was still swollen and hypersensitive from the first orgasm. Every stroke rubbed directly against it. Pleasure shot through her before she was ready for it, and her hips jerked forward.

Her second orgasm surged through her, enormous and sudden, and she made a small, broken sound. Her fingers curled against the restraints. Heat raced up her stomach, across her chest, down her thighs, until there was nowhere left for it to go. Her legs shook uncontrollably, her stomach tightened, and she cried out loud enough that the sound echoed off the lecture hall walls.

Three familiar, leering jocks in the front row adjusted their cocks.

Marcus, the third to the right, closest to the door, was staring directly into her eyes, as the dildo began to pump in steady, mechanical, THUMP THUMP THUMP sounds.

There was something different about the way he looked at her. The other boys had been staring openly, grinning and whispering to one another, but Marcus wasn't laughing. His intent attention stayed fixed on her face, then dropped briefly toward her belly before returning to her eyes.

"That's it," Dr Brood said. "You can see how quickly the response returns."

She wanted to tell him to shut up. She wanted to shout that she had never felt this good in her life. Instead, another orgasm was already building. She had barely caught her breath when the sensation began building again.

Each moment stretched excruciatingly fast and slow, too much all at once and and not enough. The dildo pressed deep inside her, withdrew, pressed back again. Her swollen clit rubbed against it with every stroke, and each movement sent another pulse of pleasure through her.

She heard Dr Brood explaining something about neural response. She couldn't follow him anymore. Tessa made a sound from the other side of the room. Someone asked a question. A chair scraped against the floor. She inhaled--and her entire attention collapsed inward.

Her pussy squelched around the dildo.

The monitor spiked, and Bambi felt herself come apart.

For one impossible instant, there was nothing in the world except warmth and Marcus's eyes and the overwhelming certainty that everything was exactly where it belonged.

Bambi's back arched. Her eyes squeezed shut.

The monitor screamed upward.

Bambi's world shattered into a million tiny, brilliant pieces as the orgasm tore through her. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a maelstrom of pleasure that consumed her completely. She felt like she was floating, her body weightless, her mind a blank slate of pure sensation.

The pleasure was so intense that it was almost painful, a sharp, electric current that coursed through her veins. She felt every inch of her skin, every hair on her body standing on end. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She felt alive, more alive than she had ever been, and it was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

As the orgasm subsided, Bambi was left trembling, her body coated in a sheen of sweat. She felt different, changed, as if the orgasm had somehow altered her on a fundamental level. She felt a profound sense of satisfaction, a deep, resonating fulfillment that seemed to reverberate through her entire being.

She opened her eyes, her vision still hazy, and saw Marcus still watching her.

A shiver ran down her spine. There was an intensity in his eyes that she couldn't quite understand, a depth of emotion that went beyond mere curiosity or lust. It was as if he could see right through her, into the very core of her being.

As the dildo continued to pump inside her, Bambi felt a sense of rightness, of completion, that was almost overwhelming. She didn't understand it, couldn't explain it, but she knew that this was what she had been searching for, what she had been craving without even knowing it. She felt like she was finally, truly, alive. Finally, truly content.

The room had gone strangely quiet except for the mechanical rhythm of the injector pumping Tessa and the deep, steady piston working inside Bambi. Their raw, broken cries filled the silence, punctuated by the wet sounds of their bodies and the occasional hiss of released fluid.

Dr Brood carried on as if delivering a lecture on anatomy to medical interns. "Observe Miss O'Malley," he said, gesturing toward Tessa's holographic rendering. Her body was bent helpless over the arched bench, her belly visibly rounder than when she had first mounted it. "The injector delivers a finite supply of inseminate per thrust. This movement ensures hormone activation via prolonged contact with cervical and uterine tissue."

Tessa whimpered as another student shifted their grip on the injector, thrusting it with uneven strokes that drew another guttural moan from her throat. Her rendering lit up with bright contractions, her hips rolling reflexively. Some students watched with mouths slightly open; others scribbled frantic notes on their tablets as though trying to anchor themselves to the academic veneer of what they were witnessing.

"Alternatively, for Miss Parkinson," Dr Brood continued, gesturing toward Bambi, who slumped in her chair, hands cuffed, belly rising inch by inch as the semen mixture filled her. "Her apparatus demonstrates a continuous insemination protocol. The inflating seal at the base ensures no leakage. As she has already achieved the required three orgasms, further climaxes will only improve odds of conception."

Bambi's body hummed with a profound sense of contentment, a feeling she'd never experienced before. She had never felt so full, so warm, so completely satisfied, something deeper than pleasure, somewhere underneath thought itself. Her whole body relaxed around the knot-like base with a helpless little shudder. The semen inside her was warm, almost comforting, and it seemed to pulse with energy, filling her completely, stretching her walls in a way that was both overwhelming and oddly reassuring. She felt every inch of her insides coated, every movement of the dildo sending ripples of pleasure through her, heightened by the knowledge that she was being filled with something meant to create life.

A boy in the second row raised a tentative hand. "Professor, um... are they going to stay like that for the rest of class?"

"Precisely," Dr Brood said smoothly. "Prolonged insemination increases impregnation probability. The girls will remain here until the bell."

The class rustled, half with disbelief, half with anticipation. Bambi's cheeks burned hotter as she realized: she would stay cuffed, filled, vibrating on display for nearly another hour while her classmates studied every twitch and moan. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Dr Brood paced slowly between the two girls, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. "As you progress in this course, you will see many such demonstrations. You will also learn how to identify subtle signs of arousal: the flush of the chest, involuntary muscle contractions, changes in vocal pitch. These indicators are universal." He stopped near Bambi, resting a hand lightly on the back of her chair as if to steady her while the machine pumped steadily into her cunt. "These young women serve as role models, and you owe them your attentiveness."

The lecture wound down, the professor explaining hormone cycles and conception rates while the machines continued their work. Tessa's muffled cries rose and fell, punctuated by the shifting of students cycling through the injector. Bambi's sobs softened into trembling whimpers as the fullness in her womb stretched her uncomfortably, her belly taut beneath her sundress.

Finally, Dr Brood glanced at the clock and closed his tablet. "That will be all for today."

For a few seconds, nobody moved. Then the hall erupted with low conversation.

Some boys filed out in little knots, talking excitedly about getting their girlfriends pregnant, how good the aides had looked with their bodies already changing, and how they couldn't wait to see what their own girls would look like once they were carrying. Others shot each other knowing grins, their attention still fixed on the platform as long as they could manage it.

Girls walked slower, some glancing back at Bambi and Tessa with flushed sympathy, others wide-eyed and glassy, their gazes lingering on the restraints and the equipment as though they were already imagining themselves standing where Bambi and Tessa had stood, waiting for their turn.

When the room emptied, Dr Brood finally approached the machines. He pressed a sequence of buttons; the injector withdrew from Tessa with a wet hiss, leaving her belly swollen and her thighs trembling. The piston inside Bambi slowly retreated, the base deflating before sliding free with a gush of warmth that stayed sealed deep inside her. Both girls sagged in their restraints, gasping.

"Excellent work, both of you," Dr Brood said with paternal satisfaction. "Just one last precaution," he said, holding up a sterile packet. He slid firm rubber diaphragms snugly into place. Bambi whimpered as the barrier locked against her cervix, sealing in the warmth that already sloshed heavily inside her womb. Tessa cursed under her breath but submitted, her cheeks flaming as Dr Brood's gloved hands pressed her open and fitted her with the same.

"These must not be removed," he instructed, his voice grave. "They will hold until your bodies have fully absorbed the solution. If I find they've been tampered with..." His gray eyes had flicked between them, not unkind but sharp. "There will be consequences."

He unlocked their cuffs, steadying them as they staggered shakily to their feet. "You may feel residual fullness for the rest of the day."

And then they were sent hobbling back across campus.