My Degenerate Academia: A Grotesque Story

The Trio of Danger looked at the Gay Club with different eyes now. Caillou started to think that maybe being gay wasn't so bad after all. At least they wouldn't be rejected there. Braziel was signing everyone up, no questions asked.

But when the idiots approached the stand, they witnessed with horror in their eyes that all the sign-up forms were already gone.

"Sorry, boys," Braziel said, his fat ass jiggling as he shook his head. "This club is full. We've reached the limit of 100 students. But you can join the waiting list if you want."

"NO! WE'RE NOT WAITING!" Caillou yelled and stomped away; the other two followed him, their heads hanging low.

Mr. Hilter appeared behind them like a disgusting stalker. He was wearing his shit-filled diaper, which was leaking down his legs. "Having trouble, boys?" He asked, a wicked grin on his face.

"We have no club to join," Kristen said, wiping away a tear.

"According to the school rules, if you can't join a club, you'll have to be executed." Hilter giggled. "And guess who the executioner is? Me!"

The three boys' faces turned pale. They had to think of something, and fast. They could create their own club! That was the only way to save themselves from a certain death.

In reality, nobody would be executed. It was just another lie from Hilter to torture the students.

"What club can we start?" Caillou asked.

"We could start a club for people with small penises!" Chong Chong suggested, pointing at Kristen.

Kristen pulled his pants down and began to stretch his micropenis. "It's not that small! I can make it bigger! See?"

"Hey, guys!" Perea, the Colombian boy, approached. "I don't have a club either. Let's start a club together."

Perea had been rejected by most clubs because of his irritable bowel syndrome. He couldn't control his feces, and nobody wanted him in their club.

"No way! We're not forming a club with a farting machine!" Caillou yelled.

Speaking of shit, a loud fart was heard in the distance. It was Cerote, a very strange student. He had the body of a boy, but his head was a huge porcelain ball with two marbles for eyes and a creepy smile. His head was fixed to his body with two large bolts.

He could not speak, so he communicated through his anus and penis. Two throbs of his dick meant "no", one throb meant "yes." A fart and a throb meant "I'm angry." And when precum dripped from his urethra, it meant "I love you."

Chong Chong, who had a deep understanding of anus-based languages, translated: "He says he's also clubless. He wants to join us."

Most clubs had rejected Cerote because he didn’t speak, and the smile on the porcelain head was creepy as fuck.

Caillou looked at the group of misfits: the Colombian shit machine, the fat chink with the tied balls, the porcelain head boy, the micropenis freak, and the bald cancer boy. This was not a club; it was a freak show.

"Well, we have enough members to form a club," said Chong. "Mr. Eladio says we need at least 3 people to start a club."

"So what's our club going to be about?" Perea asked.

"We could be the Nikla Worpship Club," Kristen suggested, drool dripping from his chin. "We would dedicate our meetings to praising her beauty and..."

"SHUT UP, KRISTEN!" Caillou kicked him.

Everyone was heading to their respective clubs, and the trio of danger was still standing in the middle of the hall. Some students were looking at them and laughing. The pressure was on.

The losers decided to have a democratic vote. Chong Chong suggested that they all propose a club name and then vote for the best one.

After a long deliberation involving the exchange of fluids and flatulence, a consensus was reached.

"We shall be called The Friendship Club!" Chong Chong announced proudly, as if he had just come up with the greatest idea in history. “We'll have picnics, sing songs and..."

"NO!" Caillou yelled. "We're not going to be a bunch of faggots! We're the most dangerous gang in the world! We need a name that reflects that!"

The boys from class C, who happened to be passing by, started choking Caillou with a charging cable.

"SHUT UP, BALD FUCK! LET'S GET THIS OVER WITH!" Camacho yelled.

“Yeah! We want to learn the art of making love!” Shantonio punched the cancerous kid in the stomach.

It was true. Because of the Trio of Danger's lack of initiative, the boys were late to their club meeting. They were all heading to the Love Club. Shantonio and the other jews from Class C had managed to impress Bodioca with their large, hooked noses, and they were accepted into the club.

With the defeat of Caillou, the name was set. They would be the Friendship Club. A name so cliche and innocent that it was almost offensive.

* * *

The next day, the clubs were in full swing. Nero had joined the Soccer Club led by Macarena. She was a tomboy with tanned skin and short brown hair. She loved Messi, and she was the best football player in the school. Macarena was a kind, naive, and innocent girl, completely oblivious to the perversion around her.

Nero joined when he heard that two rival teams would fight for a ball. He thought it was a game of war, where they would chase a fireball, the same way he played with his momma Remnya when he was a little kid.

"No, Nero! That's not how it's done!" Macarena laughed.

Nero had tackled Chiquilin from class E, breaking the boy's legs in several pieces. The child screamed in agony as Nero stood over him. "I won! The fireball is mine!" He held a ball he had just set on fire. "Mommy will be proud!"

"You have to kick the ball, not break people's legs, silly." Macarena gently tapped the ball with her foot, a simple, elegant movement. “Like this!”

"Oh!" Nero nodded and tried to glue Chiquilin's leg back together with mud, but it didn't work. The left leg was still dangling by a single tendon, but the right had flown entirely out of bounds. To keep things symmetrical, Nero simply pulled the left one off, too.

Macarena just smiled. She liked Nero because, unlike all the other boys, he didn't try to look under her skirt or touch her butt when she scored a goal. He was a gentleman.

The Anal Club was a bit different. Rea was the queen of the club, and she stood before her minions, showing them a graphic video on the projector.

"As you can see, the anus is the key to sexual pleasure. It's the most sensitive part of the body, and it can give people the most intense orgasms," Rea explained, pointing at the screen with a ruler.

The boys and the few girls in the room were taking notes and watching the video with wide eyes.

Ai-Chan was tied to a chair in a corner. Rea was gonna use her as a live example later.

Only the richest students and a few old men from England attended the Anal Club. It was a place for the elite, the ones who could appreciate the beauty of the ass and the ones who could afford the monthly membership fee of 4000 euros.

The Anal Club had a long history. It had been founded in 2996 by Rea's sister, Rena, and it had quickly become a popular club among the students. When Rena graduated from school, she gave the club to her younger sister, Rea, who took over as the new leader.

Sir Archibald Montgomery, a British man in his sixties, was a member of the Anal Club since its inception. He always traveled from his native Birmingham to meet with the club. He was a wealthy man and could afford the expensive fees.

The man had a mustache, wore a monocle, and always carried a cane. He was very polite and friendly, but he had a dark secret: he was a pedophile.

Sir Oliver Lancaster was his colleague and also a member of the Anal Club. He was in his fifties and had a similar background to Sir Archibald.

Then, there was the youngest member of the club, Sir Theodore Featherstone, an 11-year-old genius and a pervert. His father was a wealthy aristocrat, and he had paid a fortune for his son to join the club.

The three British gentlemen were always the first ones to arrive at the Anal Club meetings. It didn't matter if they had to wake up at 4:00 AM to get the flight from London; they were always the first ones to arrive.

Their wealth allowed them to have a luxurious lifestyle, even in a shithole like England, which had long been conquered by Indians and Pakistanis, who had destroyed the culture of the country and made it a hellhole for white people.

Speaking of which, the White People Club was the most exclusive one. Nikla and her members were standing in line with their arms stretched in a Nazi salute. She had managed to gather a total of 20 students after a careful selection process. She had rejected everyone with non-white ancestry and those who had dark eyes.

Kana was bored. She wasn't even a white supremacist. She had joined because she was Nikla's friend. She yawned and leaned against the wall. She could be being railed by Nero right now. Instead, she was stuck here with a bunch of racists.

TO BE CONTINUED...