Chapter 6 - For Johnathan - The Hentai School

“Boys have a penis, and girls have a vagina,” I began, in my lesson in hentai school. It was a lesson I never thought I’d have to give.

“This should be fun,” said Shart with an utter lack of confidence.

I knew that in modern, progressive America, there was some debate on the issue of sex education, but this was not the time for that.  This was not a walk before you run situation. The demons were not even at the crawling stage of their education on human sexuality. Neither their moms nor their uncle-dads could teach them, so it was left up to the school.

Several of the demons had actually gagged when I’d named the body parts correctly.

The large, bearded demon I’d walked in with looked at his crotch and swore. In a deep, gravelly voice that sounded like he came from Queens, he sighed, “I thought that looked weird.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a deep, gravelly voice with a lisp before.

“That was difficult to listen to,” said Shart.

“It certainly was. I’m glad I didn’t have to say it. I’m not a trained actor from Juilliard, though. A professional from there would do their absolute best to ensure an authentic accent,” I replied. “They also wouldn’t do something silly, like challenge the person writing the scene in a public forum.”

“You could always adjust your frame somewhat to be a woman,” I offered.

A tiny woman with a tiny voice, who looked like she had spent her whole life searching for something, asked hopefully, “Do women have both? If not, it is not going to help.”

A bearded demon wearing a cowboy hat responded with a southern drawl, “I don’t see your fascination with breasts. This thing is way more useful.” He was stirring his coffee, his hands folded neatly across his chest.

I sighed. “If you are going to try to pass yourselves off as humans, you are only allowed two breasts and one form of genitalia.”

The class groaned, and someone stuck up their hand.  “And only the women are supposed to have breasts, right?”

“No way! That’s terrible,” replied a barrel-chested human male. He had four breasts and a totally different, drunken, southern drawl.  “These things are great!”

“Additionally, both breasts need to be in the front,” I continued.

“But the one in the back is for dancing,” yelled a female demon, as she breasted boobily from her seat to demonstrate.

Huh, I didn’t think that was a real thing.

“Only two,” I reiterated.

“Ha, I told you so!” cried a boisterous woman, her dream of one day becoming a race car announcer clear in her voice. She was sporting one C cup and one DDD. If you could make them whatever size you wanted, why would you do that?

. “And the breasts should be almost the same size, but not actually the same size,” I said.

“What do you mean?” asked an Icelandic sounding demon. “Why only almost?”

“Human bodies aren’t really symmetrical. One boob is always a little bigger. One testicle is always a little bigger. It’s common for humans to even have one hand bigger than the other. It’s the same with feet. Some differences are more noticeable than others, but they are there.

“What are boobs?” a demon asked in an elderly woman’s voice.

“Yeah, and testicles?” questioned a male demon in a voice that reminded me of Alf.

“We will get to testicles in a bit. Those belong to the male reproductive system. Boobs are just another word for breasts.” I made a honking gesture with my hands, indicating that both breasts should be a bit closer together than most of the demons thought they should be.  One dumbass had fashioned hers to be three feet apart. Every demon in the room followed my lead.

“What the hell is that?” asked a thin demon with an Austrian accent.

“I think it's called a handshake. You are supposed to do that as a greeting,” replied another demon with a Scottish accent.

“What is the instructor doing now?” asked a third, sounding like a proud New Zealander.

“I remember this from human school!  Your head in your hands is what I believe they call laughter,” said a nearly pink-skinned demon in a South African accent.  “He is showing us how happy he is.”

The entire class put their heads into their hands in unison.

Hentai school was supposed to be the advanced version of their human training program.  If that really was the case, I had grave concerns about the quality of their overall educational system.  I would have left, but I was legitimately concerned that they might hurt someone without some sort of training.

I straightened up. “No time for that. This is sexual education.”  I would just power through and move on.  Doug wasn’t looking for me, so I was stuck here.  All I needed to do was get these demons through this lesson and let the clock run out.

Except there is no clock.

A dark whisper flew through my soul. These were immortal beings. They didn’t need to sleep or eat.  They could literally just do school in one sitting and would probably prefer that to actually having to come back repeatedly.

Fortunately, I had this. I believed in me.

“I don’t,” responded Shart. “But I’m here for it.”

I grabbed a pointer and thrust it at the diagram.

“Sorry, can we go back for a second?” a thin, nasally sounding demon asked. “Why would there be two names for the same part?”

“What?” I asked, my concentration broken by the interruption.

“You said breasts and boobs were the same,” she answered. “Why?”

“Oh, well, I don’t really know. Breasts is the anatomical word for them. Humans are, well, we are fascinated by our own bodies, and we can act somewhat immature about them sometimes.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” asked a gigantic demon. He sounded like he had a head cold.

I blinked. “Just that, we are ‘humans’, right? We’ve got to act the part.”

“Why is now the time you reveal that you can think on your feet?” asked Shart.

“Other names for breasts include tits, melons, boobies, ta-tas, funbags, and bazoombas. Of course, those are just some examples. There are many more. Now, on to the lesson. I again jammed the pointer at the diagram. “This is a penis!”

Several demons visibly paled. A morally sound and spiritually uplifted demon with a German accent asked, “Could you call it something less technical?”

“This is a purple-headed yogurt slinger,” I replied, jamming the pointer hard at the diagram.

“Couldn’t be. That’s a beverage served in the town of Zentarim,” spat a demon in an Italian-American accent.

“A one-eyed moisture missile,” I continued, once again glad that I was not a professional narrator.

“It detaches!” gasped a mustachioed Italian-sounding demon in shock.  Then I heard a scream.

“It does not! Go to the shop,” I ordered the demon.

“Why do humans have so much blood?” whined a demonic woman in a posh British accent.

“Uh, blood passes Mana through the body,” I explained.

“They aren’t wireless?” groaned a grotesquely thin woman in a cockney accent.

“No, you need to have blood in your system. Otherwise, you will die,” I replied.

“We aren’t here to talk about human deformities. Get to the sex!” yelled a very artificial looking demon. His voice reminded me of a fire and brimstone preacher.

“You take the hoo hoo dilly and put it in the cha cha,” I spat.  The demons started writing that down in their notebooks.

“Which is which?” asked a demon posing as a Canadian human.

“The hoo hoo dilly is the penis. The cha cha is the vagina.” I replied.

“The vergina is the woman’s thing?” asked a short demon with an elf’s voice.

“Vagina, yes.” I stated.

“Wait, when the male inserts his hoo hoo-” began a demoness. She sounded entirely too smart for her own good, despite the long, tragic past her voice alluded to.

“Hoo Hoo dilly,” corrected a cheery demon, sounding as though he’d just found out he’d won a prize.

“Yes, of course. When he puts it in my cha cha, is that when I bite the penis off?” she asked. “Or should I wait a minute?”

“You can really hear her tragic past when she speaks,” said Shart in utter appreciation.

“When a professional does something, you can always tell,” I replied solemnly. “No, you shouldn’t have teeth in your cha cha.” All the demonesses looked horrified.

“Where should we have them then?” asked the nasally sounding demon.

“Yeah, because I’m fairly certain we should have them somewhere,” added a French demon.

“I thought all humans had teeth, not just females,” stated a large, Hungarian demon.

“Let’s say we did decide to have teeth in our vagenies. How big of a problem is that?” asked a demoness who sounded like she worked at a 1950’s malt shop.

“How many of you have teeth down there?” I asked.

Every demoness in the room raised their hands. So did some of the males.  I stared at one of the men.

“There’s a hole in the back. Humans are known to thrust into anything, so it seemed reasonable,” he explained, the timber of his voice telling me a tale of a man on a soulful mission. Several of the male demons who hadn’t raised their hands looked thoughtful.

“If you want to pass as human, you are only allowed to have teeth in your mouth,” I responded.

“But the male human is trying to poke us with his hoo hoo dilly! Why [R1] would we not defend ourselves by every means possible,” asked a demonic woman with a mane of hair like gold. Her voice sounded like ice cream in the summer.

“What the hell does that mean?” asked Shart.

“No idea,” I replied. “Human sex isn’t a form of attack.” Several demons threw their notebooks to the ground.

“What about death blows? I heard there were death blows,” yelled a Dutch demon.

“There aren’t death blows in sex,” I responded.

“I heard there were blows aplenty,” argued another demon, desire in his voice.

“They slow down once you get married,” said the French-accented demon.

“This is pure nonsense! Why must we be punished so?” screamed the pink demon, taking to her feet and cursing the ceiling.

“It's not that bad,” I soothed, trying to placate them.

“Oh great, the class is being taught by a Kevinist. Shall we all just bow down to the great <admins> and give up?” asked a demon, sounding like a sailor on shore leave.

There was a lot to unpack there, but the whole room was turning hostile toward me. I needed a distraction.  “Making the hoo hoo dilly hard is how sex happens.”

The irate demon dropped back to her seat, her pink hair fluttering down unnaturally. If pressed to say why it was unnatural, I would blame the roots of the hair. They went all the way down her neck.

“Hey, look, there’s a dial for hardness!” yelled one of the male demons in a voice that reminded me of Sherlock Holmes. Specifically, it reminded me of Rathbone’s Sherlock, not BBC’s Sherlock. I sat down when I heard a loud bang.

“So, the maximum human length is about the size of your hand,” I said. “If it hits the ceiling of the room, you made it wrong.”

“Oh,” replied the demon.

“If it goes through the ceiling, you made it very wrong,” I continued.

“That’s it!” screamed a green-eyed succubus.  Apparently, she had grown so irate that her human form had faltered. “How are we supposed to tear out your heart?”

“Maybe the woman’s heart is in her cha cha?” offered the elderly lady demon.

“If it is, I built my body entirely wrong,” retorted the green-eyed succubus.

“No! Humans sometimes talk about giving their heart to another human being, but it is just an expression of love. The heart is not actually removed,” I continued. “Without a heart, a human will die.”

“I spent hours making it removable,” screamed a Scandinavian demon. He held up his beating heart, which looked like a valentine card heart rather than a human one.

“Again, humans do not consider sex a fight,” I attempted to explain.

“But they get horny! How can that not be for a fight?” asked the same demon.

“Since you brought it up again, why are there so many ways for humans to die? They die without blood. They die without a heart. Why are they built so fucking fragile?” a demon roared, reminding me of a sasquatch.

“Horny is just an expression,” I said, deciding to ignore the deeper question of the human condition. I couldn’t even explain sex to these demons. I certainly wasn’t going to try teaching life and grappling with human mortality.  “Being horny means they really want to have sex. No one should be trying to kill each other in the process.”

“Just how does that work?” asked one of the demons. He had a Caribbean accent and was fed up with my nonsense.

“How does what work?” I snapped back.

“You know, we are learning about this in theory. Maybe it would be easier to grasp if we could just do it,” suggested the elderly lady demon.

“Yeah, we should know how the sex works in practice,” agreed the sailor-sounding demon.

I looked around at the sea of flesh in front of me. Horror began to overwhelm me, as I realized the direction the class was going in.  I, for one, did not want to even attempt anything with this cavalcade of misshapen beings.  You’d have to be a stone-cold freak….

“OttoSherman, I need you.” I called.  As he was on the town council, I could just call him with my <admin> skill.

“Finally,” said OttoSherman. “I’ve been trying to get you on the books for weeks. You look… tense.

“I’m not tense,” I spat.

“You sound tense, too,” he argued.

“I am not tense,” I repeated.

“Puma,” replied OttoSherman.

“Where?” I gasped, ducking and scanning the room. There were forty-two demons, a teacher’s desk with nothing underneath it, two absolutely useless diagrams, two light fixtures that couldn’t possibly hold a puma, and two misshapen human dummies. Maybe the pumas were inside? No.

I exhaled, relaxing slightly.

Then I looked again. Relaxing is when the pumas get you!

“That’s enough time for a zone search,” said OttoSherman patiently.

Where are you?” I asked, wondering what he meant.

“I’m at the retirement home,” answered OttoSherman.  The home was a new building off the town square. He would be able to get to my office pretty quickly.

“Why are you there?” I asked.

“To visit my grandmother. Since she came to Windfall, I get to see her every day. It is our special time. You know, she has to keep calm due to her heart condition,” said OttoSherman. “Why do you ask?”

He sounded hopeful.  I shuddered.

“I was going to have you go to the Gateway in my office. I need you down here in Jersey. I’ve got a bunch of demons that need to be taught the proper way to have sex. However, since you are bus-“

Suddenly, there was a drawn-out shout of euphoria.

“I’m at the gate! It’s not open.  I’m going to try to pry it open with my bare hands.  I’m not strong enough! Fenris doesn’t know how to open it,” yelled OttoSherman, his voice growing increasingly desperate.  “I’m going to use my ax!”

“I’m not sure this was a good idea,” I groaned.

“Following my axe has never steered me wrong,” replied OttoSherman.

I activated the Gateway and OttoSherman stepped in, already wearing a gimp suit.  I waved at a surprised Fenris.

“Why are you already in a gimp suit?” I asked.

“I told you I was visiting my grandmother at the retirement home,” stated OttoSherman, as if that didn’t raise far more questions than answers.

Fenris looked into the room, saw all the demons, and shook his head.

“You summoned a human to give us sex lessons?” asked one of the demons.  “Wow, impressive.”

“Yes, I’m sure this one will be able to explain what a missionary is,” said the pink-haired woman.

“And he brought an assistant,” stated a third.

I looked up, expecting to see Fenris making a terrible life choice. Instead, I saw a withered old lady with a walker. She, too, was wearing a gimp suit. Before I could say or do anything, she smiled an old, crooked smile.

“I want to die doing what I love,” stated OttoSherman’s grandmother.  “Getting lots of strange someplace dangerous.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I said.

“Don’t worry, love. I’m a logophile,” she replied.

“You… love… words?” I asked.

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” grinned the old woman.  I had a feeling logophile did not mean the same thing on Ordinal as it did on Earth.

I glanced over at one of the larger demons. “I’m just going to go. You can take them back through a demon door[R2] , right?”

“Of course, but I don’t see what a human could possibly teach us. Why does he have rubber gloves?” drawled the southern demon. A look of dawning horror crossed his face.

“Do you know how to Gobble Gobble Goo?” OttoSherman asked the class.  The demons looked at each other and shrugged.  Nodding, OttoSherman called out, “MeeMaw, take out your dentures.”

“You don’t have to teach me to suck eggs,” said the woman. “I left them at the retirement home.”

I was going to say something to OttoSherman, but there was no point.  He was already explaining to a half-dozen misshaped demons how they needed to fix their bodies for proper use.

Placing my hand on MeeMaw, I activated the Treatment skill and dumped a ton of Stamina into her. It wouldn’t fix all her problems, but most of them could be powered through with a combination of Mana and Stamina. She was still fundamentally an old woman when I was done, but I was more confident that her heart wouldn’t just give out.

As Mee Maw dove into a group of demons, I snuck out.

“Your species is gross,” I thought to Shart.

“Oh, yeah, just because we immortal beings don’t understand biological sex, we are the dumb ones,” said Shart.  “You realize how gross sex is, right?”

“Only if you do it right,” I replied.

Doug was waiting for me. “You didn’t already go in, did you?  I found your rig, but there was some stuff I had to check on.” He gestured down the road.

“I can go into the club?” I asked.  “I thought that place was only for demons.”

“Every so often we get a demon summoner down here. It’s only proper that we have a mortal rig,” offered Doug.  “It prevents your brain from getting turned into mush.”

“Sure, I have questions,” I offered, following Doug to the building.  At the entrance, a bored-looking demon watched a monitor of some sort. A sign had been nailed to the wall above her head.

“Welcome to Limbo.”

“I can explain,” began Shart.

[R1]Is this a rape joke?

[R2]DD or dd