"Welcome to Sex-Men - the place that makes dreams come true."
That one off-handed remark had become ingrained into Miles' memory. In fact, that very moment had defined who he would become. It had cemented his career path. Miles had planned to attend university, get a degree, then become a successful accountant. He wasn't particularly interested in business - it just happened to be the path he was headed towards. Then that - the
incident
happened, and it changed Miles' life forever.
Where was he now? He looked down at the small, hand-held bag he carried around with him. In the dark of the moonless sky, it was almost impossible to see. This was going to be a difficult mission, and Miles knew it. The last Sex-Man who had infiltrated the DBS Girls' College had vanished from existence. No-one had gone after him; after all, who would dare set foot in that place? Yet Miles had proven himself time and time again. With a track record of thousands of satisfied girls, he had made a name for himself. Urban rumours circulated about a legendary Sex-Man unlike no other.
And therefore, it was no surprise when Miles received a voice message, claiming to come from the DBS Girls' College.
'We need you here, Miles,'
a girl had whispered over the line.
'The DBS. We can't bear it any longer. Last week, a girl got caught masturbating, and the Grannies chopped her fingers off. I need you. I'm so horny right now, I could almost orgasm just thinking about it. But I can't. We can't. The Grannies would literally kill us. Please, Miles. You're our only hope.'
Miles had hesitated upon hearing the legendary religious school's name. The teachers - or Grannies, they were called - had zero tolerance for any form of sexual activity. All kinds of punishment, from flaying to keelhauling, and even dismemberment, were all somehow permitted by the local government. Perhaps it was that ridiculous religious freedom law, Miles remembered, which the College had exploited to their full advantage. But there was no choice. The students needed
him
, and he had to deliver. If not, what would his purpose in life be?
And so now Miles groaned, cresting the top of the dirt path. It had been a long, arduous trip up the hill - no, mountain, given just how massive it was - and Miles wasn't sure if he had the energy to make love to a hundred teenaged girls. They were all over eighteen, of course; Miles had made sure of that. He quickly ran for the cover of the trees, hoping to be no more than a swift shadow in the wind. He knew there were cameras posted along the walls of the building, and Miles had gauged their blind spots a few days back.
Miles pushed his way through the shaggy shrubs, keeping to a crouch. He couldn't let himself be seen, not now. He was so close. He could almost touch the brick wall of the building, the impenetrable castle that rose above him. Miles laughed. The medieval design of the school was almost as old-fashioned as the people running it, he thought. Then with a final leap, he arced over the clearing between the bushes and the wall, leaving the cameras' line of sight as quickly as he entered.
Up above him, the towering wall loomed. Miles glanced up and smiled. Excellent. The brick had crumbled away in countless places, leaving plenty of hand and foot-holds for Miles to scale up the wall with. And so he began, glancing around quickly, feeling the cold air on his neck. His fingers dug into the rough crevice, scratching his tender skin. But he couldn't stop now. The girls needed him more than he needed the comfort of his bed. Tonight, he would be putting his skills to use. Miles clambered upwards, placing a tentative sneaker in another crevice, and he began to climb.
The wind buffeted him, seeming to push him away from the wall. Miles tried not to look down at the ground. He had always had a fear of heights, and all his training still hadn't quite hammered it out of him. He resolved to keep going.
Left hand, right foot. Right hand...
