The A.V. Club

A Novel by J.K. Ermon (jokermon)

This is a work of erotic fantasy fiction for the entertainment of adults only. Everything in this story is imaginary and is not meant to represent any real-life people, events, or medical conditions. It contains explicit futanari (hermaphrodite) content. If that's not your thing, or if reading this type of material is unlawful where you reside, don't read it. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older, even if it seems otherwise for dramatic or narrative purposes. Please enjoy this story responsibly and do not repost without permission. This story is copyright©2016 J.K. Ermon.

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Daily Grind

High school, like working life, consists of routines. The days and weeks blend into each other, punctuated by the odd quasi-memorable moment in all that gray sameness.

That spring, the memorable moments tended to be more jarring and frequent. And the sameness was a considerably brighter shade of gray.

My routine was a morning run followed by breakfast with my family, classes, lunch with Emily and my friends, post-lunch sex with Emily in the portable, and then more classes. Midafternoon study hall was group-sex time with Emily, Marianne and the boys in the AVC room. After school, I would hide in the basement Girls' room and spy on Emily's blowjob seminars (Marianne called them'semenars').

The girls flourished under Emily's tutelage. At the start of every session, they'd all suck her to completion (often tomultiplecompletions) and then let her fuck them any which way she pleased. New points of training and technique would be woven into these activities. It was all very freeform. You could see their sexuality blossoming. They couldn't wait to fling themselves into each new act or position.

The semenars would typically close with Emily having the girls eat each other out for her entertainment. She would masturbate to them and shoot cum all over each sixty-nining couple. To my discerning eye, the girls became just as adept at cunnilingus as blowjobs. Heidi Miller, in particular, became an especially skilled and eager cunt-lapper. She may have been a social outsider at Grant High, but she was the most popular girl in Emily's little club. The other girls always greeted her with hugs and kisses. She became their mascot.

The Monday after Barn Gangbang Sunday, the new training topic was rimjobs. After a good long warm-up, a naked Emily bent over in front of her naked pupils and an equally naked Marianne spread her cheeks wide apart. She gave the girls a truly lovely smile and nodded down into Emily's split.

"That," the brunette said, "is her dirty nasty shit-hole, and all of you are going to stick your tongues in it." Her smile grew impish. "Like this."

She bowed her head and licked Emily's asshole. The girls were all kneeling on their calves and bent forward until their pretty noses were less than a foot from Emily's butt.

"Don't just lick around it," Marianne mumbled. "Get your tongue right in there." She demonstrated.

"Ooh," said Heidi, and licked her lips unconsciously.

"Pay close attention," said Emily, a little unsteadily. "Because what she's doing feelsgreat."

One after other, starting with Heidi, each girl stuck her face between Emily's cheeks and rimmed her. Surprisingly, it was Linda Carruthers who won bonus points. She had the idea to reach around and masturbate Emily while she tongued her anus. Emily loved that. It gave her a very quick and powerful orgasm.

That's a real considerate girl right there,I thought.

Emily laughed breathlessly. "You guys mastered that quickly! Now onto prostate massage."

A whole lot of butt-fingering followed. At one point she had all four girls loving her up simultaneously; Heidi and Marianne each sucking a boob, Linda sucking her cock, Stephanie eating her pussy, and all four girls pumping her ass with their index fingers. It was the Fellatio Society's version of the Treatment. She just about drowned poor Linda when she came.

Tuesdays were pretty much the same except I had Chess Club after school. Ever since Allen left, they kept trying to make me captain, but I kept refusing. I had enough on my plate as it was.

Allen's departure made surprisingly few ripples. The Chess Club guys were the only ones who seemed to miss him, or were genuinely curious or concerned about where he went. He was technically an adult, so none of the teachers cared.

Wednesday nights, the A.V. Club went to Tin Pan Allie's in Claryville. Jack would always grumble about the expense, but we were always able to afford the door charge, the drink minimum, and the tips. Now that we weren't spending our dues on movies, beer, or grass (Donnie still partook occasionally), we could put our money where it counted: into the coffers of the local sausage economy.

~~~

That first Wednesday after Barn Gangbang Sunday, Emily showed up dressed like a trench coat flasher again. And just like a flasher, I knew she was naked underneath it. Instead of her tennis shoes, she wore her pink high heels, the ones with the ankle straps. Instead of her white athletic socks, she wore white stockings, the feminine kind that went to mid-thigh. She deliberately crossed her legs in the front seat so I could see.

To my surprise, Marianne tagged along again, this time with the boys in Mark's van. She hugged me and kissed me hello, which I guessed was a regular thing with us now. I sure wasn't complaining. She was wearing a tight black minidress. She had great legs, I noticed; long, but with a nice, well-curved thickness to them like Emily's. She was as tall as Mark in her black high heels, and towered over Emily.

When Ronnie stuck his head out for the ten-minute warning ("and have your moneyready,people") he paused when he noticed me. He beckoned, and with an uncertain glance at my friends, I followed him inside.

"Try not to get us kicked out again," Marianne called out just as the door shut. Ronnie gave me a wry look. I shrugged sheepishly and followed him through the dim service corridor to the main area.

Dee-Dee was busy behind the bar as we came in. She looked up and gave me a cheerful wave. I returned it.

Ronnie walked past the darkened lanes to the shuttered bowling shoe counter. He went inside through its side door and I followed him.

The footy smell of all those used bowling shoes was a little strong in that enclosed space. I guess Ronnie was used to it.

"Okay," he told me. "I talked it over with Lucy and my wife. You and your friends aren't eighty-sixed. But. No getting ass-fucked on the premises. This isnotconditional. This is backwoods Kentucky, not Nashville."

I wasn't aware Nashville, Tennessee was a hotbed of emergent sodomy, but I wasn't going to argue the point. I thanked him instead and promised him we'd all behave.

He paused. "Before we go and let everyone else in, can I...give you a little advice?"

"Sure."

"A little dickgirl cum is fine. It's good for you. Hell, they don't call it Kentucky penicillin for nothing. But just because a little of something is good, doesn't mean that a lot of it is better."

"Sorry?"

"The more of their cum you take, the more like them you become."

"You mean...attractive?"

"I mean queer," he said impatiently. "Dickgirls have sex with men and women. They're attracted to both. Men that suck off dickgirls, or let them fuck them, become the same. Yeah, they get healthy and handsome, but they also start finding other men attractive." He paused. "It's a dubious trade-off, kid."

I couldn't really disagree. This last month my sexuality had expanded in some startling ways. Honestly, though, I found my chemistry with Gladys more puzzling than my new appreciation for cock. I'd been admiring big dicks my whole life. Before this spring, however, they had always been attached to dickgirls.

"There's nothing wrong with being queer," he went on. "But the world we live in doesn't see it that way. Being queer...it just plain makes things more difficult. Queers get no respect. It's damn near impossible for them to do business or get anywhere in life, unless it's with other queers." He snorted. "Hell, look at me, I got four grown kids, I'm married to the prettiest girl in the county, and I still gotta fight against the current because I run sausage joints. I'm automatically suspect. Trust me, being queer? It'snokind of life."

I cleared my throat. I could tell this was something that Ronnie had strong opinions about, and I didn't want to needlessly aggravate him and risk getting me and my friends re-blackballed.

"The thing is," I said carefully, "since I've been dating Emily...I haven't started finding women less attractive. Kinda the opposite."

"Nor will you," he said. "That's not the point. Dickgirls are supposed to have sex with men and women. It's expected. Guys that do that get labeled queers, period. It doesn't matter if you sleep with a thousand women, you suck one dick, that's it. You're queer. That's just how the world works. I don't necessarily like it, but that's how it is. You need to know that."

I knew it all right. The AVC's Byzantine security protocols existed because of it.

I felt a little torn. On the one hand, I wanted to tell Ronnie that how the world worked at that point in history was pretty fucked up and things would never change if people continued to just go along with it. On the other hand, I didn't want to butt heads with him, about this or anything else. I liked him and admired his work too much.

Instead, I just nodded gravely and said, "I understand."

Ronnie sighed. I suspect he knew he hadn't changed me a bit, but like me, was unwilling to fight about it.

"Good enough," he said. "Well, time to get this show on the road. Oh, and Bobby?"

"Yes?"Jesus, what nowI thought.

He grinned at me. It was the grin of a charming rogue and raconteur, a grin to make a prom queen's panties hit the floor. It was aneverything's-gonna-be-finegrin.

"Have a great time tonight. That's kinda the whole point of the place."

I grinned back. "Oh, we intend to."

~~~

And we did. The headliner was Sophie Evans,akaTally Whacker. She'd been visiting with the Jespersons for the week leading up to her booking, which was how she was able to pop over and spend Sunday afternoon with us. I supposed having headliners over for extended sleepovers was a regular thing for Ron and Dee-Dee.

That Wednesday, Sophie more than made up for her previous cancellation. She put on an absolutely stellar performance. She exploded onto that small stage practically on fire in her red-and-gold cocktail dress. It did not stay on for long. She wiggled out of it with some truly inspiring undulations as the sound system blasted Link Wray'sRumble.

There was something almost iconic about that striptease. The way her huge bare breasts burst into view and then her great curving kielbasa was just quintessential sausage joint. Tits and then dick. It was the Platonic ideal of the act.

Naked, she swung her hips and strutted fearlessly into our groping hands at the foot of the stage. I can still remember how she flung her head back and laughed as she connected with that entire crowd. I could feel it. It was like a glowing web of healing sexual energy springing out of her. When I touched her, her skin was supercharged with it. She made my dick surge with power. The more we touched her, the stronger that connection grew. I don't think the regulars noticed, but it was plain as daylight to me, and to Emily and our friends, too. Sophie certainly wasn't holding back. She gave us all full rein. She let the audience really get acquainted with her.

Then she was right into the squirt show and held back nothing there as well. She really let us all have it. She aimed at people's faces and shot off with no warnings. She undulated her hips with her hands interlaced behind her head and sent ropes of sperm flying all over the crowd. She laughed even as she moaned. The way each orgasm sent shakes through her whole body made the spectators gasp out loud. It was a beautiful, almost choreographed sequence of ejaculations.

Music-wise, she favored a lot of fifties rock and roll -- Little Richard, Chuck Berry and pre-movie era Elvis. She never stopped moving to the beat of each song and always managed to come in time with it.

She encouraged alotof audience participation. She brought out a box of toys and let us use them on her. From bulbous-tipped anal probes to realistically-molded dildos, everybody got to stick things in her. It was tons of fun. Sophie came so much that I got the impression this was as much for her own entertainment as ours. She wound up covered in as much of her own cum as her audience.

While Marianne rammed Sophie's cunt with a big beige dildo, she spontaneously began sucking her dick. Sophie looked delighted and came in her mouth within moments. That naturally took things to the next stage. The rest of the audience began pulling out their dicks and Sophie dropped to her hands and knees to dole out blowjobs.

Just like before, when Emily opened her trench coat and revealed her emergent status, the crowd went wild. She was already starting to come before Sophie fully got her in her mouth. The onlookers went wilder still when it was Marianne's turn and the sultry brunette lifted her skirt to reveal nothing but brown-furred pussy. Sophie licked it. In fact, she burrowed into Marianne's privates and sucked her to a thigh-quaking orgasm in no time.

Sophie sucked off everybody else, and then turned around and presented herself for intercourse. Everybody stuck their dicks in her. Emily got more applause that anybody else when it was her turn.

When it was my turn, it felt so good to stick my dick in Sophie's sperm-filled cunt. I stroked her enormous prick and gloried in the spasmodic clamping of her insides as she spurted off. I loved watching all my friends and those random strangers slamming their dicks into her as well. She moaned and cried out in unfeigned joy. It made me feel good. It gave me a sense of completion and belonging.

These are my people,I thought.Dickgirl freaks, all.

Things got even wilder. With Mark leading the charge, we stripped Marianne naked. She pretended to struggle as we held her legs apart and encouraged Sophie to mount her. The audience loved it. Their clapping almost drowned out the music as the tawny-skinned goddess slipped her great curving prick into the pale and voluptuous beauty. Once Sophie began thrusting, Marianne stopped pretending. She French-kissed the brunette dickgirl and licked all the audience members' cum off her face. When Sophie came inside her and inundated her with her own unique brand of vitamin J, Marianne moaned like her heart was breaking.

Once Sophie pulled out, Ronnie had a turn on Marianne, and then Harold as well. Marianne got very excited and orgasmic as the diminutive Professor Wexler rode her. He spanked her thighs and pinched her nipples cruelly hard.

"I could tell you had a nice hot cunt," he panted. "And that you knew how to use it. Keep squeezing me, bitch."

She came so hard she nearly screamed herself hoarse.

~~~

The patrons of Tin Pan Allie's were spoiled for choice that Wednesday. Between Sophie, Emily and Marianne, they had a smorgasbord of sensory delights. Unlike the first visit, when Emily only did blowjobs, this time, she let everybody do whatever they wanted. So did Marianne. All three of them were powerhouses of emergent energy. Every time they came, or brought others to orgasm, they emitted megawatts of that ineffable sexuality.

The most surprising event of that show was Gladys Nessman showing up halfway through.

I was standing back, watching and masturbating as Sophie and Donnie double-penetrated Emily while other men lined up to stick their dicks in both women's mouths. Marianne was being similarly swarmed beside them. I felt the prickle of eyes on me and turned to see Gladys standing by the bar. She was staring open-mouthed at me and the spectacle before me.

Dee-Dee had opted not to take part that Wednesday. She was pouring Gladys a beer and handing it over when I noticed her. Gladys took it from her numbly without taking her eyes off me and the show. I saw her throw back half of it with one big slug. I saw her eyes widen as the vitamin J registered.

I had lost my pants somewhere along the way. I padded over to her barefoot, with my erection jutting out between my shirttails.

"Hello Gladys," I said, and bent to kiss her on the cheek. She turned her head at the last second and kissed my lips. It was a brief but meaningful smooch with a flash of tongue. She was wearing a batik-print caftan with a flowing purple gypsy skirt and an orange paisley kerchief. I'd never seen her dressed in such a relaxed and bohemian style before. She looked great - healthy and vital.

Her eyes snapped back to the action onstage. "So," she said. "This is a sausage joint."

"How did you hear about this place?" I asked.

"Emily told me." A slow flush colored her cheeks as she studied the moving bodies. She took another deep swallow of her Seahag punch and emptied the glass. "Oh my."

Dee-Dee poured her another one. "Three drink minimum, honey."

"That'll be fine." Gladys laid a five on the bar and slid it to Dee-Dee. "Just keep them coming."

She drank again, and then closed her eyes, rubbed her cheeks and smiled. I knew what she was feeling. Sophie's sperm had lost none of its absurdly happy and effervescent nature.

"I..." Gladys uttered a low chuckle and started again. "I didn't think it would be..." She made an incredulous gesture towards the stage. "All this."

She took another stiff drink. Her eyes grew glassy. "It truly boggles my mind that all this has been happening under my nose...for decades. And I had no idea."

We stood together and watched the show. Suddenly she leaned forward and squinted.

"Is thatMarianne Fleischmann?"she asked.

I nodded. "The one and only. She and Mark are dating."

She shook her head and laughed. "ShehatedHome Economics. She was more of an academic. One of my brighter girls. But very impatient."

"That hasn't changed," I said.

Gladys nodded. "She's changed a lot in other ways. I guess we have Emily to thank for that."

Her free hand absently grasped my penis. She stroked it slowly as she sipped her drink. We both watched the bodies onstage combine and then reconfigure.

"Bobby," said Dee-Dee, "aren't you going to introduce me to your lady friend?"

"Oh sure," I said, abashed even through my emergent haze. "Gladys Nessman, meet Nancy-Dee Jesperson."

"Call me Dee-Dee, Gladys, everybody does."

Gladys put her drink down to shake her hand. She didn't let go of my penis.

"How on Earth did you get involved in all of this?" Gladys asked her.

"When I was Bobby's age I ran away from home and fell in with a dickgirl named Candi. Best thing that ever happened to me."

Gladys picked up her glass. She turned slightly to address Dee-Dee but still didn't relinquish my dick. She beat me off slowly as I watched Emily and the others.

It was quite a sight. Ronnie and Harold had sandwiched Marianne and her plaintive moans could be heard over the music. A man I didn't know was feverishly groping Emily's ass while Sophie and Donnie continued to dual-prong her. Sophie flung her head back and came in her ass. My lips parted as her buttocks and flanks trembled; it was an awe-inspiring sight.

"What I can't understand," Gladys was saying, "is how all this stays a secret. I mean, I know the way small towns gossip. How is this not all frontpage news?"

"Well, it's part of the culture here," said Dee-Dee. "And not talking about it is part of that culture. Everyone who knows, takes part, and has no reason to blab."

The A.V. Club - Chapter 24

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