Beetle Juice (3 page)

It was true. Guided by the teacher, they smoothed out their minds and let the awareness come. It was familiar to Wetzel, but novel for the others. He played along, of course. It was surprising how readily the others picked up on it. It was a natural ability, so they were not learning it so much as discovering it, now that the suppression was gone. In a way it was like finding a new house and entering it for the first time. Soon the wonder faded, but the constant awareness of other minds did not. It was a new dimension of experience.

Then came the second aspect of the adult triad. “At this time you will be initiated into sexual expression,” Weava announced. “We will now demonstrate exactly what happens during sex.”

Could that be true? Wetzel was as bemused as the others in the class. How could they suddenly demonstrate what had been so carefully hidden before, throughout?

They did. An adult man and an adult woman stripped to show their full nude bodies. They stroked each other and the man's penis got stiff. “The purpose of the man's erection is to make it feasible for him to penetrate the woman and ejaculate his semen into her body,” the teacher continued. “Left to nature, this could impregnate her, and she would in due course bear a baby. However, all of you have been dosed in your food with contraceptive agents that will prevent conception. We do not want any girl conceiving until her adult transformation is complete, and she understands the full ramifications of the act. For these few months your only purpose in having sex is to enjoy it and learn how to do it properly. Only then will you have the background to make mature decisions about life relationships.”

The students exchanged glances. This was amazing! Suddenly everything that had been withheld from them was being explained and encouraged. Including the mystery of why they had had little or no interest in sex before, merely curiosity about what was hidden. That, like the telepathy, had been suppressed.

“First the physical component,” Weava continued as if unaware of the phenomenal impact this lesson was having on the students. The girls were blushing, and every boy had an erection, one of the embarrassing phenomena of sexual maturity. The teacher seemed not to notice. This was, it seemed, routine for her.

The demonstrators proceeded to perform the act, each stage described by the teacher. The woman lay on the bed while the man mounted her, set his hard penis at her cleft, and slowly pushed it into her body. Then he withdrew it part way, and thrust deeper. After several times he grunted with fulfillment and relaxed. When he got off the woman his penis was going limp, and dripping. He had, as Weava described, ejaculated into her vagina.

The students watched it all, fascinated and repelled. They were supposed to learn how to do this? Erections were one thing, but doing
that
with them?

“There are many variations,” the teacher said, “but this is the essence. We will in the next few days acquaint you with those variations of position, and with the types of manual and oral sexual expression. But today you must learn the mental side of it. Because, you see, both partners are telepathic. They can and do feel each other's climaxes. This lends a phenomenal extra dimension to the experience. You need to be thoroughly familiar with this aspect before you first have sex.”

“But the demonstrators just did it,” a girl protested. “We didn't feel any—any climax.”

“That aspect was suppressed,” Weava explained. “So as not to distract you from the observation of the mechanics. The next demonstration will be complete with the experience of the orgasm.” She smiled. “You will not forget that.”

Indeed, another couple demonstrated, and this time the entire class experienced the man's orgasm. It certainly would have been a distraction.

“The man gets the—the feeling,” a boy said. “Not the woman?”

“Not as readily,” the teacher said. “But she can, especially when the man is attentive to her needs and responses. Both parties can share that too. That will be demonstrated another day.”

Weava went on to explain that in other cultures women were sometimes raped. That was when the man was so eager for sex that he forced it on an unwilling woman. “But in our culture, rape is impossible.” And she explained why: if the woman did not want sex, her mental aversion spread to the man and he lost his erection and thus his ability to perform penetration. In fact she could so focus her thoughts as to make him lose it even if she was not averse to it. “The man has physical control, but the woman has mental control,” the teacher explained. “Of the two, the latter is more powerful. No girl will graduate from this class until she demonstrates the power to render a man impotent.”

Then she smiled. “This, too, we will now demonstrate. A volunteer, please.” She glanced at Wetzel. “You.”

He was floored. “Me?”

“Step to the front of the class and strip off your clothing.”

He was appalled. “But—but I have a—”

“Precisely.” With her telepathy Weava knew his state. She had been aware of the reactions of the boys and girls throughout. “Now.”

He had to obey. In that moment he realized that she knew about his own premature telepathy. That was why she had chosen him. The others were still uncertain in their mind readings, but he knew how from long experience. In moments he was naked before the class, his erection manifest.

“Like this,” the teacher said, approaching him. She was actually an attractive adult; several boys had had crushes on her before this. Wetzel might have, but had quickly buried the feeling in the emotional storm cellar of his haunted house. What was she going to do with him? He half dreaded, half relished the thought. To put his stiff member into a woman like her…

Weava looked at him.

Something changed in his mind. Not only did he lose interest in sex, he detested the very thought of it. His erection faded. His penis descended and shrank.

There was a titter in the class. His performance was humiliating. The one thing worse than having his erection exposed in public was losing it in public. Without sex.

“Every girl will have this ability,” the teacher said. She clapped her hands. “Class dismissed.”

Chaos erupted as the students compared notes and impressions. Wetzel was left standing in his shame.

Weava turned to him. “I selected you because I fathomed your telepathy, Wetzel,” she said. “You have had it for some time, but since you did not abuse it, we let you be. That makes you vulnerable to this suppression. Without sufficient telepathy you would not have been able to read my suppressive thought. It was not my purpose to embarrass you, though of course I did. I had to make it quite clear to all of you what the girls will be learning. Now I will make it worth your while, knowing that you like me. Dress and come to my house.”

What could he do? He dressed and meekly followed her.

She led him to her house and brought him inside. “Now you may have your first tangible heterosexual experience. This time I will not suppress your erection.” She undressed, had him undress, and joined him on the bed. His erection was back, as hard as before. “Show me how well you learned today's lessen.”

And in minutes he did. Guided by her quiet words, he got on her and in her. He did not climax as fast as the demonstrator man had, but after many thrusts, encouraged by the teacher, he succeeded getting his first orgasm. It was enhanced by his realization that she could have aborted it at any time, but had not. Did she actually like him back, maybe a little?

She kissed him as he concluded. “Was it worth it?”

“Oh, yes!” he gasped.

“I always liked you, Wetzel,” she said, answering his thought. “You're smart, you behave well, and there's something appealing about you. In due course you will practice sex with the girls of other villages, as they mature. In the interim, I will be at your service.” She smiled again. “And yes, you may talk about this incident, and I will confirm it. You have technically become a man.”

His suppressed crush on her burgeoned. Fully aware, she held him and kissed him again before dismissing him.

So it was. He did talk about it; indeed he could not avoid it, because others had seen the teacher take him to her house, and asked him. He had become the teacher's pet, a mark of favor. The adults, of course, already knew. He suspected they had read his mind as he penetrated her, getting a vicarious first experience. Weava had known exactly what she was doing. At any rate, his embarrassment had been wholly erased. He was now the envy of the other boys.

The girls were drilled in the suppressive technique, while the boys were instructed in sexual manners. Virginity, they were assured, was unimportant; what counted was the mutuality of the experience. If a girl foiled a boy's erection, he was still at liberty to attempt to persuade her to allow the completion of the act. Success was its own reward. The students were not sexually or romantically interested in each other; they had associated too closely, too long. But the class was taken to visit the next village, whose teens had been similarly educated, and soon boys and girls were paring off to practice. The couples were assigned by the teachers; it was not romantic.

“Here is the rule,” Weava said. “You will all strip nude. Each boy will attempt to penetrate his ad-hoc girlfriend. She will attempt to foil him, not physically, but by mentally stunting his erection. If she does not succeed, she will accommodate him gracefully. If she does, he will compliment her on her proficiency.”

Wetzel's partner was Weena. She was a sultry brunette, and her breasts were not large but firm and well defined; she was more woman than girl. “Try it, big boy,” she murmured. “I'll even let you take hold of me first.”

She had confidence. Was it warranted? He put his arms about her, his member rampant.

And stood there as it sank into oblivion. Damn!

She smiled, picking up his thought.

“Congratulations,” he said, uncertain whether he was frustrated or relieved.

Weena laughed. “You're a good sport. Now I'll let you do it for real, if you like.”

“No, you won. I got to do it only if you couldn't stop me.”

“Or if you could then persuade me. You can if you try.”

But he was confused, embarrassed, and uncertain. “No.”

She shrugged, hardly concerned. “Suit yourself.”

Later he wondered why he had demurred, after being so eager for it before. And realized it was because of Weava. He knew she would give him sex, and he really didn't want it with anyone else.

As it turned out, none of the boys succeeded; all the girls of both villages had learned the melting thought. But it was an excellent demonstration of its effectiveness. Most of the girls had then relented and let the boys have it. As the teacher had said, virginity was nothing; sex was fun to do, because the girls could read the climatic passions of the boys, thus also experiencing them. With telepathy there was no such thing as one-sided sex; if one person got an orgasm, both did.

Another week they went to a third village for more practice. And there Wetzel was astonished.

His assigned partner was a svelte blonde with corkscrew curls. She seemed oddly familiar. “Don't you recognize me?” she inquired coyly.

“Willa!” His childhood acquaintance had matured into an impressive young woman.

“Hello, Wetzel,” she said.

“But—but I thought you—”

“You were supposed to,” she said. “I was merely moved to a special camp for precocious telepaths. As it turned out, I was physically precocious too.” She half turned, inhaling, showing off her full breasts and tiny waist. She was certainly more mature physically than the other girls. “I asked to join you here, and they let me, though I have long since demonstrated my ability to foil sex. Not that I ever really wanted to. Let's get more private.”

“But this is a class!” He was still stunned by the discovery that she was not only alive, but completely healthy.

Willa raised one hand in a signal. Her teacher nodded.

“This way,” she said, leading him to a house.

Inside, they talked, catching up on the years they had been apart. “I hated letting you think I was dead,” she said. “But I was forbidden to contact you. The message that girls
don't
play show-me with boys had to be made brutally clear.”

“That was the reason? I thought the telepathy—”

“Telepathy was the real reason,” she agreed. “The show-me was the fake reason. They don't want precocious telepaths among the children, and they don't want it known how many there are. So they sequester them. You were lucky they didn't sequester you.”

“I thought I was hiding it.”

“You did, for some time. They were impressed. So they let you be as long as you behaved, and you did behave. But now you can let go.”

The teacher had told him the same thing. “That's nice.” But his lifelong caution remained, and he did not tell her about the mental storm shelter. He did not know at what point they had caught on to his telepathy; it might be fairly recent.

“I always liked you,” she said. “As I guess I made clear in the haunted house. That's why I wanted to play the game of show-me with you.”

“And we never quite did it,” he said ruefully.

“We'll do it now.” She started removing her clothing.

Now his caution became intense. Why was she coming on to him like this? He quickly buried the thought. “No need. I have already seen it.”

“We'll do more than see. I'll pretend I can't foil your erection.” She smiled knowingly. “In fact, I'll show you how a girl can do the opposite. It's really the same ability, reversed. I can make it so hard you just have to use it.”

“You can do that?”

“You doubt?” And suddenly he had an almost painfully stiff erection, and the desire to use it, exactly as she had said. It did make sense that control went both ways. It wasn't thought projection so much as his inability
not
to read the insidiously suggestive thought she made.