Whitney was right on time. She grabbed a booth near the window while Jesse ordered drinks. They sipped and watched the students go by.

“Thanks for the latte.” She gave him that shy smile again. “I gotta say, I’m super excited to work with you on this porno. You’re a natural at this - that scene was amazing! I think we blew Professor Lovelace away.”

“Hey, you were the star up there! I was just following your lead.” Jesse decided to push things a little. “Besides, you’re a natural too - that was the best head I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

She waved him off. “No, that’s just lots of practice. I took a blowjob boot camp over the summer - I didn’t want to show up totally green. Trust me, you spend 90 hours in a month with somebody’s cock in your mouth, you learn a few tricks.”

Jesse took a long sip of his iced coffee, collecting himself. He took another bold step. “I’ve never gotten used to the taste.”

She shrugged and held up her cup. “It’s like coffee - bitter at first, but it grows on you once you drink a few gallons. Oh, are you ok!?”

Grabbing a handful of napkins, Jesse dabbed at the iced coffee he’d shot out his nose. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just sneezed.”

Having thoroughly embarrassed himself, Jesse pivoted the conversation away from semen.

“So, you transferred here - where from? Do a lot of students transfer to Amberfield? It must be hard to transfer credits to a Pornography degree.”

“I spent my first year at South Central College - it’s a small school in Shermer, Illinois with a good pre-med program. I’d mostly taken gen-ed stuff, so a lot of it transferred over. Even pornstars and whores have to take microeconomics and a foreign language.”

“But yeah, there are a ton of transfer students - this year especially. There was an article about it in The Daily Tramp.”

“It’s hard to tell your folks you want to fuck for a living when you’re eighteen. I know it was for me. Plus it’s so expensive! Better to do your gen-eds somewhere cheap. Have you been here the whole time?”

Jesse paused before answering. “Yeah, more or less. Hentai is one of my passions.” He realized as he said it that it was true, had been true long before any of this happened.

“I can tell. Your work is great! Anything good from your lab time today?”

Riding high on Whitney’s compliment, Jesse passed his phone to her.

“Hey, you drew me in your hentai! Great tentacle work in this panel.”

Jesse grabbed the phone back. Holy shit, he had drawn her into the hentai, white lingerie and all. He had never felt more embarrassed, and he quickly turned beet red. “I'm so sorry…” he mumbled.

“What? No! It's super sweet!” Whitney squeezed his hand. “I'm glad I made an impression. Thanks for pumping up my tits, by the way. They look great here.”

“Whitney, you have amazing breasts! They're lovely!” Jesse felt the conversation spiraling out of control again, but he was compelled to speak.

“Yeah, they're nice breasts, but A-list pornstars have big tits - massive jugs. I would have gotten them done before I came, but good implants are SO expensive, and I don't want those bad fakes.” She sighed. “Maybe I can get a part time job and save up…”

“Well the way I drew them is how they look to me.” Whitney gave Jesse that smile again and he pressed on. “Listen, I'm famished. You want to grab some dinner?”

“Absolutely. How about shawarma?”

They walked down to Grey Street and grabbed dinner, chatting about everything under the sun. They talked for more than an hour, long after the meal was done. Finally Whitney's phone buzzed.

“Crap. I have to meet up with my ‘History of the Orgy’ study group - we have a presentation due Friday.” She paused. “Will you walk me to the library?”

Ten minutes later they were saying goodbye outside. Jesse decided to go for a kiss - and was politely rebuffed. “I'm so sorry Whitney,” he mumbled. His blush rose up again.

She took his hand. “Nothing to apologize about. It's just a little fast for me. But you should definitely try again after our next date.” She gave him a flirty wink and went inside.

—

Jesse returned to his apartment. He finished his work for the day, shaved off his pubes, then went to The Daily Tramp website.

Record Breaking Transfers This Year: Most of any School in the Nation

According to the article, 71% of this year's incoming students were transfers, almost eight times the percentage last year and twice the rate of any other school. The Dean was quoted as being “unsurprised,” but everyone else was baffled.

“Ok, that sounds like a bunch of students got yanked in with me. That's good, I guess. They weren't just magiced into existence. Whitney is probably real.”

A musical noise from the kitchen interrupted his train of thought. He got up and found the red laptop open and powered up. Jesse groaned. “Really, now you’re charged?”

::It’s time to get working!:: The cherub was flitting around the screen, pointing at the New Document button.

“I don’t have anything to work on! My course load doesn’t involve graphic design any more - thanks to you.”

The cherub ran through its animation cycle, still pointing.

“Fine, whatever!” Jesse fished the STD pamphlet from his bag, held it up and clicked the Capture button. “This thing sucks, those Institute bimbos haven’t got a clue. I’ll do them a favor and fix it.”

He spent half an hour editing their pamphlet, making something a student would actually read. In his old life, it would be an A+ project.

::I’m sorry, but this is an insufficiently creative project! I can’t save this!::

“STOP IT!” Jesse shouted at the laptop, prompting banging from downstairs. He picked up the laptop and shook it violently. “I know you’re not a program, you chubby fucker - stop lying to me!”

::Hey, fuck you! I’m not chubby!::

Jesse dropped the laptop, fell on his ass, eyes wide with terror. The cherub put its hands up in exasperation.

::YOU SAID YOU KNEW!!:: the cherub shouted, its voice distorted by the shitty laptop speaker.

“I WAS BLUFFING!” Jesse shrieked. More banging.

The cherub flopped to the bottom of the screen, face in its tiny hands.

::Godsdamnit, I am in so much trouble. Alright Fisher, get your shit together and stand up. We still have to finish a project tonight, and this pamphlet isn’t gonna cut it.::

Jesse sat, staring at the laptop for a full minute before he could move. “You tell me what the fuck is going on, or I’ll smash you with a hammer.”

::Man, I just work here. Boss says you gotta make sexy projects, so you gotta make sexy projects. Getting pissy won’t change anything. So let’s work together and we can both go to bed.::

“Why?” Jesse picked up the laptop and stared hard into the cherub’s eyes.

::Why what?::

“Why everything!? Why me? Why sexy projects? Who is doing this? Is this a test? A punishment?”

::Can’t tell you.::

He shook the laptop again. “Can’t or won’t?”

The cherub shrugged. ::Either. Both. You get no answers, only projects.::

Jesse’s eyes grew dark, furious. “Are the people here real? Are they actual people? Did they exist before all this started? Is Whitney real? If you don’t answer me, I swear to God you’re getting a fire axe in your CPU!”

::THEY’RE REAL, THEY’RE REAL!!!:: the cherub shouted. ::Boss dragged in people who’d want to be here! She doesn’t force anybody to do anything!::

“The fuck are you talking about?” Jesse was still irritated, but the cherub’s answer had washed away the fury. “I got forced into all of this!”

::Wrong! You could’ve gone to your teacher and asked for an extension. You could’ve just taken the F. You chose to use Grand Design, chose to follow my prompts. You bought the ticket, now you take the ride.::

Jesse dragged himself to the couch and flopped down. He said nothing for a long time. “Fine. Fine. Let’s do this.” He turned to look at the cherub. “But send that pamphlet please. I know it doesn’t count or whatever, but it really needed improvement.”

::Uploading.:: The cherub pulled a pack of cigarettes from the back of his little diaper and lit up. ::That’s a freebie, ‘cause I feel bad about jerking you around. Now, what kind of project do you want to do?::

“I don’t know man! What defines a ‘sexy project?’ What the hell am I expected to do?”

::You gotta make the world sexier, and you have to do it with skill and style. Gotta give it 100%. Beyond that it’s up to you.::

“You gave me the ‘School of Pornographic Arts’ prompt.”

::Yeah, but you’re the one who wrote up twenty one bullet points about it. Fields Medals? Really? Do you know what Sexual Mathematics means? ‘Cause I sure as fuck don’t!::

“Ok, ok, something sexy.” Jesse closed his eyes, tried to think. What could he possibly do to make things sexier than he already had? He thought about the day’s events, thought about the porno shoot, thought about Whitney and her shy smile and her white lingerie.

“I got it.” He titled the page ‘Body Modification Day.’

The cherub nodded, impressed.

::Ok, we can work with this. What’re you thinking, some cutting edge surgical center? The Gender Engineering department could have all kinds of advanced gender affirming and body modification technology. Couple of weeks of recovery, and your lady friend could have the tits of her dreams.::

“Surgery? Couple of weeks? We have full-length porno to make for our final project.”

“Your ‘boss’ wants sexy magical changes? I’m gonna give her sexy magical changes. We’re riding the fucking lightning tonight!”

In huge comic sans, Jesse typed BOOB JUICE on the center of the page.

::I’m in so much godsdamn trouble.::