"Ahem.
"Good mroning, students! Welcome to your first day at Mt. Dream College for the Gifted! This is your Headmaster, Mr. Schwarzweiss, and I hope you will all enjoy your new lives here under my care. Please report to the auditorium in fifteen minutes for orientation!"
You awaken to the sound of a dark, sensual male voice, slightly gravelly yet musically baritone. You blink up at an unfamiliar ceiling. What... where am I? You remember falling asleep in your room, but that is definitely not where you are now.
"Students who are late for orientation will be punished."
A shiver runs through you at the way the man's voice caresses the word "punished."
"What the hell..." You mumble as you sit up and look around. Mt. Dream College... for the Gifted? You'd never heard of it before. The room you're in looks both spartan yet somewhat posh. Potted plant, private fridge, desk and chair, doorway which you somehow know leads into a private bathroom with toilet, sink and shower. Another door which leads out into the hallway of your dorm.
Strangely, you seem familiar with the layout of the school despite not even recognising the name.
"Orientation..." You mutter. That seems like as good a place as any to get answers. Although anxious, you keep your wits about you for now. You need to find out what the fuck is going on, why you're in a school, and why...
Examining yourself in the bathroom mirror after freshening up, you realise you're a lot younger than you should be. You recognise yourself from your high school graduation photo -- you look to again be in your late teens, maybe early twenties. At about the same time you realise that you can't remember your own experiences at uni, everything after your eighteeneth birthday having become a hazy blur. You bite your lip, anxiety spiking.
The hell is going on... But you don't have a lot of time to dally over this identity crisis. You really don't want to find out what this "headmaster's" idea of punishment is.
Attired in a formal-looking school uniform, you exit your room and enter the dorm. You encounter a few others, but you do little more than exchange perfunctory greetings, their minds like yours preoccupied with the threatening situation. And again, despite never having set foot in this building before, you seem to instinctively know your way to the auditorium.
Whatever you were expecting, you are not disappointed. The auditorium looks like a fancy theatre, with thirty seats ranked in three shallow tiers facing a wooden stage, the back of which is hidden behind red curtains trimmed in good. You choose a seat, noting that about half of them were filled.
Almost the instant your butt sinks into the plush leather cushion of your chair, the lights dim, and an imposing figure steps out from the curtains and strolls forward, hands behind his back. Several students gasp, and you find yourself gaping at him.
He has to be at least seven feet tall, and utterly inhuman, from vulpine head to powerful paw-like feet. A band of smooth scales runs down from under his jaw to his lower abdomen, and patches of scales guard the backs of his forearms; the rest of him is covered in fur. Behind him a tail waves sinuously, covered in fluff like a fox's brush but much longer and ending in a bony black spade. Two curved horns adorn his head beside his pointed upright ears.
Just as stunning as his animalistic features is the way his naked body is neatly divided down the middle, the right side white, and the left black. The only exceptions are his horns, which are reversed so that the right is polished jet and the left pristine white; and his eyes, where the left sports a red iris on black, and the right a gold iris on white. Both have slit pupils, and glow a bit in the dim auditorium.
And, finally, poking out from a sizable sheath above a large, soft-furred ballsack, a solid red male tip also broke from the monochrome colour scheme.
You gulp, eyes riveted on the inhuman maleness. It makes you feel strangely... vulnerable, as though it's somehow more of a threat than the creature's intimidating muscles, claws and fangs, or this whole messed up situation.
"Good, it seems like everyone made it on time." The same deep, erotic voice that you had heard on the intercom issues from his snout after he surveys the auditorium. "It's a pleasure to meet you all! I am Solus Schwarzweiss; you may call me either Headmaster or Mr. Schwarzweiss. And you... you are the most talented in your fields. Full of potential, full of humanity's hope for improvement. That is why you were chosen... to play this game."
He chuckles, shivering your spine. "You see, a little while ago an Incident occurred. Its exact nature is unknown, but the world was changed overnight into a competing arena of video games. Some of you may be able to recognise what game has infected this school, though the amnesia resulting from being turned into my students will probably prevent you from recalling any details. Not that they would help you. This is my game now.
"There is, however, a major constraint on my conduct of this school. That is, how you win the game. You see, you are all playing against each other. In order to win, you must successfully kill one of your fellow students. If you can get away with murder, you're free to go. The others will automatically lose."
"What!" exclaimed someone. "That's ridiculous! You can't --"
"Interrupting the Headmaster is against the rules," warned Schwarzweiss, exposing his fangs in a grin. "The first minor infraction will receive a warning, but repeated or major rule-breaking will receive punishment." Again with that word. And, judging by the way his spire rose a couple of inches from his sheath, "punishment" was definitely something that turned him on. "Punishment varies by infraction. The most severe punishment is for those who attack the Headmaster or kill their fellow students, or willfully damage school property."
"Wait." A thoughtful-looking young man with glasses and light pink hair frowns. "Headmaster, may I ask a question?"
"Very well."
"You said the goal of this 'game' was to kill our fellow students, but now you say that's against the rules?"
"You're not actually thinking of murdering us!?" objects another student.
"I just want to be clear on the rules."
"Very astute," praises the fox-dragon. "You win the game by getting away with murder; that wouldn't be a challenge if you could just slaughter each other in the open, would it? Oh no. Being caught will result in losing the game as well. Thus, after any body is discovered, a 48-hour period of investigation will ensue, and after that a trial. Whoever the student body deems guilty will then suffer punishment."
He smirks again at your expressions. "Don't blame me; I'm as much a prisoner of the game as you. My only leeway as Headmaster is to set the punishments and the other rules. Those rules are: this is a school, so you must attend classes, which will be taught by me. You are not to interrupt me. You must do what I say. There will be a curfew at midnight, after which everyone must be in their own rooms, which will then be locked until eight the following morning.
"Breaking one of my rules will result in the offender being... changed, to something more pleasing to me. Which brings me to what 'losing' the game entails: becoming my sex slaves. To repeat, you lose if you are killed, convicted of murder -- whether guilty or not -- or someone gets away with murder. So, are there any questions?"
"D-Do we have to kill each other?" a nervous student asks.
"No, of course not! In fact, I'd rather you didn't -- I don't want anyone getting away. If you all manage to survive a year here, you will 'graduate' and a new set of players will be drawn from the outside world."
"What does 'graduation' entail?" asks the pink-haired boy.
"Whatever you want it to," he replies with a toothy smile. "You will understand when you see what kind of classes I will be teaching. But it doesn't qualify as victory, I can assure you -- if you complete your education here at Mt. Dream, you'll be forever marked by the school."
"It seems we'd be 'marked' by it regardless," someone remarks sarcastically. "I don't imagine murder is something you can just walk away from."
"Maybe, maybe not." The Headmaster shrugs.
"What's to stop us from just leaving?" someone else asks.
"Well, if you look around, all the outside doors and windows are sealed by metal plates. The outside quadrangle is surrounded by a wall, and over everything is a dome that is guaranteed to keep you in -- and everyone else out. To further discourage outsiders from interfering in your education, there are a number of traps surrounding the school property, and you will not be able to connect to any external media -- though be assured, the cameras you see are not just part of my surveillance system, they are recording your adventures for the entertainment of a mad world."
"If things out there are so crazy, why even bother trying to win?" you ask.
"Again, please don't," the fox-dragon reiterates with another toothy grin. "I want you all to be good, happy students, and not worry about freedom or a potential killer in your midst. But I didn't choose the game; I'm just trying to make the best of a bad deal."
"U-Um..." The nervous kid manages to pipe up again. "A-Are the victims really going to d-die?"
"That is what usually happens when someone is killed," answers Mr. Schwarzweiss. "The body will be removed one hour after discovery, so be sure to examine it thoroughly."
He waits for a bit, but everyone has fallen silent.
"It seems there are no more questions. Very well. Since the game has affected your memories, you probably don't know each other even if you did before. So now I will begin the introductions. First, I would like you to meet my assistant."
On cue the curtains draw back, revealing the depths of the stage. Sitting quietly on her haunches is what at first looks like a large red latex dog or wolf. Though you quickly spot the heavy, round breasts she sports, and as she rises to a bipedal stance you realise that she is also anthropomorphic.
Though whether she is alive or not seems debatable. She seems to have a small speaker built into her chest, just above her cleavage, and you can't tell if the latex is just skin-tight or her actual skin, as you can see her nipples and the cleft of her vagina, which is outlined in yellow. Further yellow stripes encircle her wrists, hocks and neck, given the impression of collar and cuffs, while a yellow O-ring gag keeps her mouth permanently open.
"This is Valerie Jackson," the Headmaster states. The sexualised figure pantomimes a curtsey. "She was once a teacher at this school, and tried to preempt the game when it first infected this school, but lost to me when I was chosen as Headmaster. Now she serves to demonstrate what happens to those who break the rules."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, students." A synthetic female voice issues from the speaker. "As a living sex doll, I look forward to showing you how to serve the Headmaster, and taking care of any needs you might experience." Her rubber tail wags, even as her eyes, which still look human, seem distant and unfocused.
"Now, to introduce the students." A list materialises in Schwarweiss' claws. As he beigns to read from it, a spotlight shines on the boy with pink hair. "Jesse O'Brian, Gifted in Logic."
He reads off several more names and specialties, each student highlighted in turn. Then you blink as the spotlight illuminates you.