Date: Wed, 11 Jan 2017 03:15:02 +0100
From: therhymer@cheerful.com
Subject: "A Day in the Life" Part III

personality
A Day in the Life, Part III
Meredith, 8 AM

By Rhymer

(Fm, inc, cons)


*****

This story is 100% fictional, the product of my imagination.

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If you would like to comment on any of my stories, please email me at
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fan of rape, forced sex, BDSM, humiliation, bestiality, or abuse, though.

Now, on with the show!

*****

Meredith Bains pulled up outside the front door of the Jackson manse, her
heart trip-hammering. She'd been tutoring Jamey for over six months now,
and she couldn't help but still be excited by the prospect every single
day. She felt a tiny twinge of shame; Jamey was a wonderful student, but
that wasn't what she really looked forward to, and it bothered her that he
wasn't even a teenager yet.

But it didn't bother her enough to quit. She even came by most weekend days
for a... visit.

She used her key to let herself in and proceeded to the kitchen where, as
expected, she found her favorite student addressing a huge pile of
scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. The poor boy's condition caused him
to burn a tremendous amount of energy. You've never be able to tell, but he
probably took in more than 15,000 calories a day.

"Sensei!" he cried, when he looked up and saw her. He hopped up from the
kitchen table to give her a hug. He was a handsome kid with honey-blond
hair like his Mom's, lanky and starting to get tall, with a swimmer's
physique of well-defined pecs, solid legs, and chiseled abs. She could see
all this because he was only wearing a pair of boxers. He had difficulty
regulating his body temperature, which was why it was chilly throughout the
house, and anyway clothes just got in the way of... other activities.

After running his hands down her back and giving her ass a fond squeeze, he
stepped back and looked her up and down dubiously. "What's that awful thing
you're wearing?"

What she was wearing was basically a muumuu, a sack dress that hid her
shape. "You need to concentrate on your lessons, not me, kiddo," she told
him, smiling. "Otherwise I'm going to end up getting fired."

"Aww, sensei!"

"Don't 'Aww' me, young man," she said mock-severely. "I won't give in as
easily as your siblings."

"Aww..."

"Sit down and finish eating, Jamey, then meet me in the study."

"Yes'm." He started chowing down, and she turned to go. As she reached the
doorway, he said, "An ugly dress can't hide the sparkle in your eye or the
beauty of your smile, sensei."

She turned back to him and grinned. If only the kid were six years older!
"D'awww, aren't you the little charmer?"

He smiled widely. "Why, yes. Yes I am."

When he arrived in the study ten minutes later, she immediately noticed
that an erection was tenting the front of his boxers. "I see that the ugly
dress tactic didn't work so well. How long has it been?"

He looked thoughtful. "Before seven o'clock?"

"My goodness, you're due then, aren't you? Would you like to take the edge
off before we get started...?" she suggested.

"Would I!" Jamey flopped down on the divan and adjusted the fly of his
boxers, exposing himself proudly to the world. "Ready when you are."

She approached the twelve-year-old and sank to her knees. As she went down
on him, his velvety hardness tickling her throat, her mind went back to the
first day they'd met...

*****

It had been a long and grueling interview, but Meredith felt positive about
the outcome. She waited demurely as Mrs. Jackson, the attractive
middle-aged widow sitting on the divan across from her, squared up her
papers, cleared her throat, and looked at her for a moment.

"I'll be frank with you, Miss Bains," she said finally. "You're the best
private tutor I've interviewed this week. I think Jamey would be in good
hands with you, and I'd like to offer you the position." She named a sum
that was easily enough to pay for the private tutelage of any three seventh
graders; in fact, it was enough to support Meredith quite comfortably.

Meredith blinked and asked, "Um... what's the catch?"

Jamey's mother smiled. "You *are* a smart one, aren't you? There is indeed
a catch. My son has a condition that... well, makes life difficult for
him."

Curiosity piqued, Meredith pressed, "What sort of condition?"

She sighed. "It's not something I can easily discuss, but basically he
contracted a particularly nasty case of pneumonia about this time last year
and spiked a fever of 105 degrees for nearly two days. It... damaged part
of his brain."

"So Jamey's mentally challenged?"

"Oh no, not at all! Jamey is an exceptionally bright and inquisitive
boy. The damage was to the amygdala, apparently, a part of the brain that
controls social behavior."

"So it's a behavioral problem?"

"...Yes. In a way. Though there are psychological and physical aspects to
it as well."

"Of what sort?"

The other woman squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. "Frankly, it's not
something I feel comfortable discussing, but I really, really like
you. Would you be willing to sign this non-disclosure agreement before I
continue?" She handed a single-page document to Meredith, who frowned and
then read the document.

It basically said that if she revealed anything said henceforth, she'd be
sued six ways to Sunday. It wasn't exactly kosher, but she needed this
job... and what could be so terrible that she couldn't handle it? Even if
the kid was violent, she was almost six feet tall and had a brown belt in
Tae Kwan Do. Shrugging, she signed the paper and pushed it back to
Mrs. Jackson.

The other woman sighed with relief. "Oh, goodness, you don't know how happy
this makes me. I just hope you'll still be willing to sign on once you hear
the details about Jamey's condition."

"Well, shoot."

"Very well. My son is hypersexual." When Meredith didn't immediately
respond, Mrs. Jackson continued, "He becomes sexually aroused easily and
often, and if it's not taken care of immediately, he becomes extremely
agitated, though not aggressive. No drug treatment we've tried has worked,
but we're still experimenting. For now, though, it's something the family,
I and my other three children, have accommodated and learned to deal with."

Wide-eyed, Meredith asked, "How often does this happen?"

Head down, Mrs. Jackson said quietly, "On the order of a dozen times a
day."

"A dozen...!"

"Sometimes more." Mrs. Jackson looked up at her sharply. "You have to
understand that Jamey's a good kid, a very good kid. Always has been. He's
not going to hurt you, not ever. But I can guarantee that at some point,
probably right away, he's going to make a pass at you. He can be very
charming about it, but he's also very persistent. When that happens, you
have two choices: you can put him off and let me know, and someone in the
family will take care of it for you. Or you can handle it yourself."

It grew so quiet that Meredith could hear her pulse pounding in her
ears. Finally, she squeaked, "Handle it myself?"

Jackson nodded. "Consider it a perk, if you like. In fact, for every
four-hour instruction session, you may spend up to an hour helping my son
deal with his condition... and enjoying yourself in the process. I know
it's difficult to get past the fact that Jamey's just twelve, but I have to
tell you, it's hardly the most terrible thing that could happen to
you. Jamey is a very considerate and inventive lover."

Meredith blinked rapidly. "And you know this...how?"

"This is where the NDA comes in," Mrs. Jackson said, smiling. "Think back,
and you'll remember that I said that the family has learned to deal with
his needs. How do you think we did that?"

"No!"

"Yes. We're a rather liberal bunch...and we'll do anything to help
family. All of us."

"But you have another son...! And your youngest daughter isn't ten until
next week!"

"That's true." Mrs. Jackson looked at Meredith evenly. "I'm sure you don't
know what to think right now."

"I certainly don't."

"That's understandable. Now --"

"Wait, wait." Meredith held up her hands. "Okay, I get it that drugs don't
work. But this...?"

"I assure you, Miss Bains, that we would all prefer that Jamey were normal,
but he isn't. And we are determined to limit the knowledge of his true
condition as much as possible. We're all enduring this until we can fix it
somehow...and if we get pleasure out of the situation, that's incidental."

"But, but, can't he...?"

"Masturbate? Of course. But there are problems. First of all, he does it
often anyway. Second, as much masturbation as he would require would be
painful and possibly damaging. And third, it just doesn't work very well
for him. He gets aroused again almost immediately. There's something about
human contact that soothes him, and makes the refractory stage
significantly longer than otherwise."

"Okay. Well."

"Maybe it would help you to meet him," Mrs. Jackson suggested.

"Um, okay."

Mrs. Jackson picked up a cell phone from a nearby end table and tapped a
key. Meredith heard a tinny chirp that must have been the person on the end
saying Hello, whereupon she said, "Honey, come to the study. I've got
someone here I'd like you to meet. Oh, and wear something." She broke the
connection and peered at Meredith. "Jamey's condition leaves him overheated
most of the time, so he usually doesn't wear much, if anything. But don't
worry, he'll be dressed when he arrives. Somewhat." She tapped the fingers
of one hand on the arm of the divan. "Expect him to dress provocatively."

Seconds later Meredith heard a cheerful "Hi!" at the door, and she turned
to see one of the cutest boys she'd even encountered standing there,
grinning widely. Legally he wasn't nude, but he may as well have been. All
that he was wearing was a tight bikini swimsuit that revealed every contour
of his buttocks and privates, as well as the fact that he apparently didn't
have much in the way of pubic hair so far. Swallowing her nervousness,
Meredith just nodded and quietly returned his greeting. Mrs. Jackson looked
at her approvingly.

"Come sit with me, son," she said, and Jamey strutted across the room to
her. In spite of herself, Meredith felt a spike of interest as she watched
him cross the floor, his muscular backside flexing. He sat down next to his
mother, where he snuggled in tight and put his head on her shoulder,
grinning mischievously.

"This is Miss Bains," Mrs. Jackson said, stroking his tousled hair. "I'm
hoping to hire her to home school you, since I've got to go back to work
soon." She had explained earlier that she had been on a sabbatical from her
job as a college professor; now Meredith knew why.

The boy sat up. "Cool! I know it sounds weird, but I've kinda missed
school."

"What were you studying when you got sick?" Meredith asked.

He held up a hand and ticked off fingers. "Physical science, algebra,
English, Reading, American history, and, um," he held up the thumb on his
free hand, "Sex Ed." He glanced at his mother.

She said, "Miss Bains knows about your condition."

"Oh, okay!" He smiled. "Don't need that anymore, right? I'm an expert!"

"I... I suppose," Meredith said hesitantly. "Which subjects do you like
best?"

"History and science. The rest I'm kind of weak on," he confessed.

"Don't let him fool you," Mrs. Jackson said fondly, "he gets good grades in
everything."

Still smiling happily, Jamey glanced at his mother -- at her breasts,
really. Then he turned his gaze on Meredith and asked, "When do you start?"
He absently reached down to rub his groin, and when Meredith looked down,
she saw that he had a noticeable erection. She stared with mingled
mortification and fascination. It was actually quite an erotic sight.

Jamey noticed where she was looking, and his smile widened. "Sorry about
Mr. Happy, there. I have no control. You know, you have the most beautiful
eyes," he said sweetly.

Meredith had no idea what to say. Finally, she replied, "You think so?"

"Very much. So... what can I do to make you decide to come teach me?"

"Don't badger the poor woman, Jamey," his mother cautioned.

"I'm sorry, Miss Bains. So, maybe we should get to know each other better?
Would you like to come to my room and, you know, talk for a while?"

"I don't think I'm ready for that," she said in a rush. She was lying. She
found this boy, with his long, lithe body and hard cock, highly attractive,
and she was so moist now that she was afraid she'd drip when she walked.

"Aww!" Jamey looked at his mother. Was he trembling? "Mom, can you... take
care of me?" he asked anxiously.

"Of course, darling. Miss Bains, if you could wait in the living room for a
bit?"

"I, yes. I suppose." She stood and turned to go...then turned back to look
at them. Jamey was all over Mrs. Jackson already, kissing her the way a son
should never kiss his mother, and rubbing her breasts through the fabric of
her dress. Mrs. Jackson's nipples had tightened to hard points, clearly
visible even through her dress and brassiere, making it obvious that she
was just as aroused as her son was. One of her hands was in Jamey's briefs,
stroking his penis lovingly, and she could see the swollen mushroom-cap
head of it peeking above the elastic.

Holy fuck. She felt her own nipples tingle and harden, and felt an almost
electric buzz in her pussy. That decided her; she cleared her throat. "I'll
take the job," she said loudly. "And Jamey, I've changed my mind. Let's go
to your room and... talk."

His bright smile lit up the room.

****

She was yanked back to the present when Jamey groaned, "I'm gonna come,
sensei!"

As much as she liked having sex with Jamey, Meredith hated the taste of his
semen. It was thin and bitter, and there was always so much of it. So she
pulled back and stated jacking him with one hand, while with the other she
scooped up a small open jar from the end table. She got it there just in
time to catch his jizz as it flew.

While Jamey was gasping like a beached fish, she examined the contents of
jar critically. It was mostly clear, with a fine taint of milkiness. Very
little sperm, she imagined; Jamey's mother had told her he was probably
sterile. There was a lot of semen, too: probably half a cup, compared to
the couple of tablespoons most healthy men shot. Poor Jamey's body must be
a kind of spunk factory; no wonder he was so aroused all the time. "And how
many times have you had sex this morning?" she asked.

"Three times, I guess."

"How many orgasms?"

"This was the fifth time, sensei."

"Incredible."

"Um, I could go again."

She would have loved to have his hard boy-cock thrusting into her cunt from
behind right then -- he could last forever that way -- but instead she said
brightly, "Not right now, sweetie! We have to get *something* done."

She put the sample aside, and after Jamey had recovered and had a candy
bar, they launched into the day's first teaching session: Physics and
mathematics.