I was quite excited. This was my very first day of classes and I wanted to look perfect. I knew I was smaller and younger than most first month students and therefore I had to take more care to succeed. This was an opportunity that only came once and I WAS determined to be the best student in the entire class. Ok, so I might not be able to excel THAT much, but it won't be for lack of trying.

All first months students wore only the basic uniform. I read ahead in the catalogue and couldn't wait for month three. Wow. They had to have upper classmen to help dress in the morning. But I had to pass the first two month's courses first. Of course the month I was REALLY dreading was month six. I was definitely not a natural so I would have to really work hard just to complete this month. But month seven and all the work will have been worth it. And I will have been the youngest graduate in three years!

Wow. I better get my brain in gear and stop fantasizing about the future or I'd never get past month one. I looked around me and I guess, small or not, it seemed every one was a bit nervous. They were all new like myself even if some of them were as much as 2 years older. In fact most of the school's recruits were 16. They usually don't take much younger students since they claim boy's younger can not really know themselves well enough to make such an important decision. And here I am at 14.

I remember when three months ago I was at home and when my parents started mentioning about my choices for high school, I simply could NOT get interested. An academic education was definitely NOT for me. Not the usual trade schools either. But I had watched a holo-advert in the public forum about this school and knew instantly that was the school for me. It's really hard to explain, but I simply KNEW. My parents absolutely forbade me from even applying. But I knew my rights. According to the 2256 Constitutional Amendments for Children's Rights, if a student can prove enough mental and emotional maturity, he (or she) has the right to choose the remainder of his (or her) education

I showed my Dad that right on wrist-com. (It had all the usual meta-links). My Dad finally had to give in. My Mom cried all the next day but I was adamant. This I knew was right for me. After all it was my future.

My Dad told Mom that even IF I qualified to choose my future schooling, which he had serious doubts, there was NO WAY I'd pass the entrance requirements of the school anyway. So they were happily sending in applications for me at several different academic establishments -- Dad was sure that I would follow in his footsteps as a Media Consultant. He had a LOT of high powered connections.

But I still had my dream. Not only did I surprise my parents, the board before whom I had to prove my maturity was equally as surprised. I was one of the youngest kids to have gained status as an educationally emancipated minor. Lots of big words saying I could now pick my school.

Of course my parents were horrified with my choice, but were actually petrified, when the next month, three people were specially sent by the school to interview me. I guess the application I filled out, and the paper I wrote why I should be admitted, had gotten me this far. Two of the people were some strange type of psychologists while the other was a one of the school's instructors. He REALLY intimidated me. I was so scared. But I simply tried to answer all of their questions as best I could. And hope for the best. It was the very last question asked that threw me for a loop. It came from that instructor.

"If I ordered you to leave the school, even though you were passing all your courses, what would you do?"

I couldn't think. Why would that even be fair? I finally gave the only answer I could think of at the time. "I'd probably cry as I went home." And as an afterthought I added. "And maybe try to reapply."

I felt better when I saw him smile.

So here I was. My father sent me on my way from the air terminal. My Mom was so distraught that she didn't comeeven that far. I was hoping that when she saw how happy I was with my new position (I am assuming that I would graduate in after the 7th month), that she'd finally realize that I had made the choice that was right for me.

Wow. I looked at the color code time monitor and realized I'd been daydreaming again. I now had to REALLY hurry. I made sure my brief was situated correctly so that when I sat down in class, it would be in the necessary position. And my neural monitors were all positioned correctly. I then put on my sandals and scooted off. As I entered the class room I thought my smile would crack my face. I'd made it!

As I sat down on the prepared butt plug, I touched the pad and the monitor responded: "Slave Training: Month One -- Basic Fucking and Sucking."

I smiled as a not so tiny electric jolt in my rectum informed me to pay attention. And I saw I was not the only one with their thoughts momentarily elsewhere.