The School Room
by Koalas
Chapter 2 - Penelope's Wedding

What really is happening to all of those missing kids you see on milk cartons? I have no idea either, but it makes the excuse for a story.

I was not happy. My real name is Eric. But anyone that used their boy name could expect something awful to happen to them.

I had not been happy for at least two months. That was when I woke up with the other hundred boys in this hell hole. At first I was just scared and afraid. But it got worst as time went on.

First there was the boy that stood up to pee. They cut Isadora's dick off for doing that. He could never grow up to be a man now.

Next they glued wigs on everyone, and made everyone wear girl cloths, all of the time, and sometimes changing cloths a dozen times a day. Then they tattooed makeup on anyone who couldn't do their own well enough. They also glued boobs to everyone. I thought it was just stuff to hold the dress out like it had real tits, like older girls. But by the end of the day, they had attached themselves to everyone. Some boys got small tits, and a couple got tits bigger than my mother had.

Then they started randomly removing some boys testicles. All the time making every boy go to girl lessons and learn to be girls. Lessons everything that a girl knows. How to take care of babies, how to clean a house, how to put on makeup and cloths, just everything.

And now the rumor was that every ones hips were growing bigger like girls, and lots of boys were growing their own boobs, and soon every guy will be growing their own. After it was mentioned, and I looked around, I could see that it was true of everyone else, so it must be true of me to.

But today was the worst day of the last two months. Eric or rather Penelope, as my new name was now, is going to marry some sultan after lunch today. There was a note on the wedding dress in the locker that was holding my next change of cloths. “Prepare for your wedding after lunch” was all it said.

Maybe in some countries, 14 year old girls get married, But I was a citizen of the United States. And I was a boy. And I was only 12. OK, they had removed my testicles, but that didn't make me a girl. I still had my dick. It was the drugs that they must be giving everyone in the food that was turning everyone into girls. Altho, the boys that didn't have there testicles removed didn't look like girls as much as those that had them removed look like girls. But those that look the least girlish, was always given maids outfits and made to help some one else get dresses, and things. Sometimes it took three of the maids to get a guy into his outfit. This sultan dork seemed to like old fashion cloths, because a least once every time that we had to change cloths, someone ended up wearing cloths from a hundred years ago.

I had to once, and the cloths was from way back. They pushed up these fake tits, and then only covered the nipple. There was seven of those big white skirts that was under the silk dress. I also had to wear a white wig on top of my glued on wig.

Some guys had it worst than others. Isadora was the first to lose his balls and also ended up with pure white long hair. Elisabeth must have done something wrong, because every couple of days he would get another foot of extensions added to his hair, but always added two hairs for every one at the end. Now it was down to his ankles and was almost like a Christmas tree wide at the bottom, they also dyed his hair blond, unlike the other red heads in his class.

Isadora, Emma, Annelise, Aurora, the list of boys that had been called to the beauty room, and returned with out their balls, or with breast implants, or hair extensions, or tattooed, or other body modification was to many to remember.

The hated speaker voice from the ceiling said “Penelope please report to room 17, the rest the classes report to your normal classrooms.”

Anytime one person was singled out from the rest could only mean something nasty was going to happen to him.

I started to cry. Getting dressed into the wedding dress was forgotten. The three maids still tried to get it on me. Failure by anyone to follow their directions would always end with the necklace shocking you, sometimes until you withered on the ground in great pain. The maids was not going to let that happen to them, so they just ignore my crying and dressed me anyway into the wedding dress. The one of the maid, without saying a word, started putting makeup on me, as the last two put on the silk stockings, and arm length gloves.

They finished just as it was time for classes. I decided that I was not going to go. What could be worst than what was planned for me after lunch? They hadn't cut my dick off yet, or operated and made my chest bigger. So I guess that there was always something more that they could do to me.

I was not the last one up the stairs to the classes on the second floor, but almost. Most of the rooms were color coded. Mostly according to the clothes color that we wore, except for the Beauty Room, this is the first room that had been opened up. Another bad sign.

No one had ever been dressed in a wedding dress before. By the time that I got to the room, I was barely able to stand up because my legs were shacking so much and weak. I put my hand on the knob and opened the door. The first one to be able to do this.

This room with just like all of the other classrooms, except that where all of the others had lots of chairs in them, this one had one chair in it. A chair with no back, making it easier to put the stool under me and sit down with out wrinkling the dress. Another infraction of the rules that brought a quick shock to the necklace around my neck.

I sat and heard the door lock, as expected. I faced the large screen, expecting the teacher to appear like all of my other classes.

Instead a man appeared. “Hello Penelope, I am the sultan that you will be marring in about 4 hours. Are you prepared?”

“I'm a guy, I'm not going to marry another guy!” I said.

“I have chosen you to be first wife, but that does not give you the right to talk back to any man! I have conquered you and taken you from your fathers house. Now you belong to me. I will become both your guardian and your husband now. You have no choice in the matter. It is a well known fact that I do not like girls, so what I have stolen is what I will place in my harem. In time all of you will accept it. And if not, then there will be more punishment until you do.” And then he raised a box with a red button and pushed it.

I was on the floor in an instant screaming with pain. It seemed to go on forever, but then it stopped.

“Now Penelope, are you going to marry me, or do you need a reminder again?”

“No” I said with a little voice, because I couldn't speak any louder.

“Excuse me Penelope I didn't hear the words of affection, love and your desire to marry me. Penelope will you marry me dear?” the sultan said.

“Yes sultan, I will marry you” I said, afraid that he would push the button that he held in his hand again.

“Penelope, and how much do you wish to marry your sultan?” his liquid voice asked.

“I wish to marry my sultan with all of my heart” I answered back.

“Please Penelope get back on your stool. This is a meeting between lovers. You don't have to bow on the floor like a common servant does. Raise and let us plan our happy nuptials together my dear So that it will be blessed and give a happy union for the rest of our lives.”

I felt like I have been run over by a car, but I struggled up and on the stool. There I bowed my head and considered what to do. If I did anything that upset him he had that button. I would do anything to avoid that punishment again.

“My Penelope, you have dirtied your beautiful gown. We'll have to get you another one for the ceremonial today my dear.”

I didn't know what to say, how do you talk to a mad man?

“If you are going to marry me till I die, can I at least know your name?” I asked.

“I have many names, but why doesn't my wife just call me Malik?”

“Malik, why did you have to pick me? There are many other beautiful girls here to select from” I said.

“Penelope, I don’t like girls, It makes me sick to think what is between their legs, I like what you have. So you shall me my wife.” Malik said.

“Malik, if you hate girls so much, then why are to making all us look like girls?” I asked, while keeping an eye on the finger that was close to the box. He had taken if off in a relaxed mood, but I had to keep his finger off, while learning what this mad man wanted with a hundred boys.

“Yes, but my father has told to stop my foolishness and settle down with a girl. If I can show him that I have a hundred girls then he will leave me alone and be happy as long as he sees girls in my harem. I get all of the boys I want to bed, so I'm happy. All of you boys were infidels, but now I will bring you to believe in the true faith, so you will be happy.” Malik said.

“Malik, none of us are happy dressing like girls.” I said.

“What is this nonsense. I have put male clothes in with you, and you have learned to hate them. Over time you will learn to enjoy being in my harem. You will learn to love me. Or you will suffer such pain that you will wish that you would die. One day you will learn to love me. That is what I have you for. What you want is of no concern to me, you are my slaves, you will obey me.” And with that he got up from his chair and walked out of the room.

I could hear voices from the door that he went through that we still open. “I want her to beg to marry me as soon as possible. I want the marriage held before that. I also want her muzzled during the wedding so that she can not say anything, the law says that a virgin that does not speak at her wedding, gives consent by her shyness. She also needs to be trained in a wives duties on the marriage night. See that it is done and all is prepared. Then set up another day for the wedding, she has upset me so much that I would beat her to death for not being subservient enough to me on my wedding night. Also set up more training for everyone to want to obey me without question. And see if we can video tape the wedding to send to my father. Make it look good.”

The woman that had always been in the girls lessons in the classroom came in. “You foolish girl, you might have upset him enough to have you killed. Now enough of this foolishness, you could have made him mad enough to just have all of you killed and started again, or with some other scheme.”

“You will marry him, and give him great pleasure for his wedding night. You can not stop those things from happening except with your own death. It is better to live for tomorrow than to die a foolish death today. Do you understand me Penelope?”

“Yes, I understand” I said.

“OK, then we will start with your part in the wedding. First the word marriage that you must know is Nikah. Nikah literally means sexual intercourse. To marry is to have sexual intercourse with your husband.”

“How can a boy have sexual intercourse with another boy?” I asked.

“You have been trained for that. You will put your knees next to your ears, and let the sultan have his way with you. That's all you have to worry about.” the instructor said.

The instructor picked up the box. I almost fainted when her finger went over the button.

“Are you ready to learn what you have to do now Penelope?” the instructor asked.

“Yes” I said.

“From now on the first words out of your mouth will be to beg the sultan to have somebody to teach you what you must do to Kikah the sultan.” and with those words she pressed the button.

I was expecting a long bout of pain, but it came and went so fast that I didn't scream until the pain was already over.

“What do you say Penelope?” the instructor asked.

“I beg of the sultan to teach me how to kikah him” I said as quickly as I could.

“That's better. As you see, I am easy, but I can be as harsh as the sultan.” She said.

“I beg of the sultan what I am suppose to do?” I said.

“You are to say:I have given away myself in Nikah to you, on the agreed Mahr. ” she said.

“That's all I have to do?” I asked.

“Well then at some point in time, the sultan will take you to one of his bedrooms and have Nikah with you. And give you that room as your Mahr. He will also give you one of the maids to help you always be available for his pleasure” she said.

“I beg the sultan to do this thing then after lunch.” I said as I watched the box with her finger over the button.

“Is there any other question that you might have for me now?” She said.

“Will he marry all of the boys that he has kidnapped?” I asked.

“The sultan considers you all girls that he has won in a battle. The battle was to create terror in the hearts of America, and with the capture and carrying away of so many with out being caught he has succeeded. So you are his rightful spoils of war, not kidnapped.” She said.

“I beg the sultans enlightenment on my lack up understanding of war.” I said.

“He would consider that correct, as you are now nothing but a woman to warm his bed at night. And women captured in war have no rights” she said.

“The sultan will be giving you a closet full of clothes. He will expect you to always look and sound like a women of beauty and grace. As a servant of his household it will be my job that all of you will always improve for the service of my sultan.”

“As a wife, and especially as the first wife you will be going outside with him a great deal. But you must never forget that someone from the household will always have this box, ready to make sure that you don't insult our sultan. Do you understand?” she asked

“You mean that if I start to say anything to anybody about being a boy, you push the button.” I said.

“Yes, exactly. Now I should have had my finger down on the button this whole time. But you have agreed to become first wife, so I have cut you some slack. But that slack is now gone forever. If I ever hear of you referring to anyone from my sultans harem as being male I will press the button and not let up for an hour.” She said with cruelty in her eyes, while looking down at me.

I fell to my knees and put my head to the floor. “I beg of the sultan to forgive his first wife the cruelty of making such a false statement. I beg the sultan to give me grace and forgiveness in this poor woman’s lack of understanding. I beg that I might please my sultan with marriage today, and bring pleasure to his bed every night.” I was shacking from the thought of another push of that button.

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