Peter Johnson obtained his degree in architecture twenty years ago, and although he wasn’t widely known for his projects, he was a fine architect. As a hobby, he would also read into ancient history and the common literature he could sift through. With blue eyes and brown hair, he was the average joe college professor. He would just bide his time to his lectures and only focus on being a scholar. He often considered himself a scholar, and this was how he liked to set himself apart from the rest of people.

More commonly, he thought of the world as a sheeple society, crafted and maintained by the political machine. The political machine was headed by the modern day aristocrats, as he liked to call them. His insecurity led him to be self-absorbed and mislead in society, bickering about how the new generation couldn’t put their phones down if it even meant death. “Bunch of fools…” Peter would often mutter to himself in his distorted perception of reality.

“That will be all for today, you are dismissed.” He said. His monotonous voice was clear evidence of his boredom. He sorted the papers at his desk into a neat stack, and then something caught his eye. A sticky-note with red ink plastered across its surface. Peter picked up the note and read it out loud while the last of his class made their way up the stairs and out of the doors. “Professor Johnson, I was hoping I could talk to you later after class about a few questions. Thanks… Elaina.”

He put the note down, a smile materialized across his face. It was his favorite student Elaina, she had lush blonde hair and plump lips. Her eyes were a steady green, but she wore glasses over them which the professor didn’t like. “Professor, I had a few questions to ask you.” Elaina’s voice suddenly came into perspective, her feminine appearance made Peter jovial to answer any question she had.

“Ahh, yes! I received your little note. Thank you for waiting until after class. Now what were your questions?” Peter immediately became a statue as he turned his petite form to the architecture book he used in class. This was his safe zone, he knew it too. Flipping through the book, he tapped his finger on his tongue and turned the pages to the lesson they had been studying today.

“Ohh...actually Professor, I was wondering if you could take another look at my grade in here. I just really need an A.” Elaina said. Her voice purred as her lips clasped. She purposefully hung her body low enough to expose her cleavage to tempt the professor. Peter was all hot and bothered by this point, this suffocating air was enough to make him scream. The snake in his pants was squirming and tossing, his virginity crying to be broken. “Y-Yes of course! Of course I’ll take a look Elaina!” He said.

After taking one glance at her cleavage, he was hard in his pants. Elaina was a manipulator and could get anything she wanted from this dried up professor. He was a sad man. An inconceivable pervert! She smiled internally, getting exactly what she had wanted. Elaina smiled with a softness in her cheeks, “Thank you professor! I’m so grateful--in fact, here’s my lunch since you’ve done this for me.” She said, handing him a sandwich in a ziploc bag. It had been perfectly prepared.

Peter took the sandwich, his hands shaking a little as he retrieved the packaged goods. “Oh thanks Miss Elaina. I’m happy for the exchange.” He was eager to keep her bountiful chest here in his presence as long as possible. The girl was looking uncomfortable now, and it was obvious she was ready to leave.

“Okay, thanks again! I’ll see you tomorrow. Byee.” She said in her girly voice, and even pumped her fist into the air as the metallic door closed behind her. She had seduced the professor into giving her an A. Elaina didn’t like to admit she was stupid in any capacity. In fact, she often credited her seductive skills as part of her intellect, which was subjective morally and practically.

Peter put the sandwich down after watching Elaina’s wide hips shake to and fro, right out of the door. He was a dog, and he acknowledged it. In a depressing sigh, he shifted his chair to his computer and began typing away at it. A few minutes passed and his fingers began to cramp up. “Damn you, old age!” He would curse himself. Turning his head in pause, he remembered the sandwich.

There was no reason at all to let a perfectly good sandwich go to waste. Taking the sandwich out of the bag was a rather disappointing realization though. The sandwich was quite soggy even though it had the design of something perfectly architectured. No pun intended. The sandwich had lettuce, tomato, and ham. Under the bread he found melted American cheese, pickles, and ranch dressing. Elaina knew this was his favorite type of sandwich! She had prepared this for him, after learning about his sandwich expertise of course.

He was baffled by the sheer amount of delicate work put into this sandwich. It was obvious she never intended to eat this herself, this sandwich had been specially prepared for the professor. Peter was livid with excitement, taking his first delectable bite into the beast. He quickly consumed it, and wiped his hands off with a nearby napkin.

Peter had been oddly satisfied with today. Usually he hated his life, feeling lonesome and devoid of himself. Today had been different, Elaina had provided him with a shimmer of light. A happiness so perfect and erect. He leaned back in his chair and glanced down at his wrist watch. His arms were curly with black hairs. “Damn! It’s late, I need to get going.” He said.

He stood up and his heart immediately felt stricken with disease. A strange, but wholesome feeling that seated him back into his chair. He could hear his heartbeat as he began to cough up ludicrous amounts of blood. Hazy vision, extreme nausea, and cold veins. Something wasn’t right here. His esophagus felt like a hole was burning right through it.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Peter struggled to his feet and attempted to scream, but only made incoherent noises as he sprawled out on his desk. His skin pores were on fire as he rolled around on his desk, coughing up blood and struggling to catch his breath. His mind suddenly went black as his body grew cold after nearly ten minutes of struggle. Peter Johnson was pronounced dead on that night, and no one has been identified as a suspect yet.

Black. Gray. White. The room was calm. It had a single light source with a throne at its peak. The throne was crafted of bone and strange golden twigs with a single shadow enthroned upon it. “You shall be born again. Do you wish to carry an advantage with you to the next world?” It said.

The figure’s voice held dominance over Peter’s poor soul. He was confused and distraught, still shocked and oblivious to what had happened to him. Why? He asked himself, although he would be too blind to actually see the truth. He felt rushed by the authority of the figure in front of him.

“I-I would like to retain my memories into the next world, and have confidence in myself!” The poor Peter would emasculate his shame with a bold request. The man in the throne of bones simply laughed. He put a hand over his face as he bursted into laughter. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Fool. You’re advantages have been granted, but you’ll never surmount to anything. I am the pinnacle of life itself. I determine your fate with the snap of a finger. You humans amuse me most. May you have better luck in the next world, I’ll even spare you this gift.” A magical transgressive orb formulated in the being’s hand. “I grant you the power of my system, and that it may garner you strength. With this system you can forge your own path to the top. Meet me at my throne mortal.”

The being said as lines of ones and zeros shrouded Peter’s vision into a distant fog. White. Gray. Black. Peter’s consciousness faded into nothing, as his soul was transported to the next dimension. A miraculous white orb that drifted through the void of space and into the fiber of time itself. The soul had found its new vessel inside of a newborn baby. That baby had a name, it’s name was Tylor. Tylor Justifix.

Right when the consciousness was established, a black system manifolded into existence. Peter could now see the system granted to him by the god. Engraved into his soul, the information displayed the following:

SYSTEM

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Name: Tylor Justifix

Title: The Virgin Boy

Race: Human

Age: Three hours old

Gender: Male

----------------

Stats:

Level: 1

Strength: 1

Vitality: 1

Agility: 0

Dexterity: 0

Intelligence: 1 (+37 )

Wisdom: 1 ( + 12 )

Luck: 0

----------------

His stats were quite unique for an infants. The conscious embodiment of the infant meant that he wouldn’t be strong at all to start. Although, his intelligence and wisdom were carried over by the god who had transported his soul here. He was glad he had been given an advantage in his second life. Although he wasn’t sure where he was.

The place was odd and unfamiliar to him. Cradled into a small perpendicular box, he was fairly warm with a glass sheet above him to keep him inside. There were holes for breathing inside the box. A few faces peered into the box and made Peter feel very unnatural at this size. He must have been a newborn at best. The glass slide was removed and the tanned woman grabbed Tylor out of the box. He was eerily quiet and reserved. The baby was refined and a shell of something vastly more intelligent.

The woman removed her garment to the side and revealed her breastfeeding tit. She shifted the baby closer to her side so it could suck the milk out and be properly nourished. It didn’t take long before Tylor was sucking on the tit and drinking the milk in abundance. Peter was going absolutely crazy, he hadn’t had this much action since ever! He was in heaven, even though his body didn’t comply with his morbid desires.

Title Gained: Tit Suckler - - - - -

Tylor could get used to this! It wasn’t long before they set him back in the box and set the glass back into place. Peter was withdrawn from reality, but also disappointed it had to end. He puckered his baby lips and kicked his feet. He was getting quite accommodated to this new body, feeling refreshed from that old-man body. It was like getting a new shell, or a new home in that aspect.

Peter was curious to his surroundings and had a desire to see outside of this putrid box, but he didn’t have much of a choice at the moment. He would just have to bide his time and create a game plan. This time his plan didn’t include virginity. Forget that stuff. The surge in his confidence was because of what he had wished for as an advantage in this life. He could understand that much, but why had the god given him this system? What did the god gain from giving him his system?

Right now, that didn’t matter. Peter only wanted to see this new world and discover its secrets. He wanted to build some shit! A loud bang erupted in the room, and some dirty looking men hit the woman who had breastfeed Tylor. They would rip off her garments and some rather disgusting noises ensued. They left after about an hour, shutting the door and buckling their belts. The poor lady cried and cried, cradled into a ball on the ground. Peter couldn’t see any of this, but he had a good idea of what had happened.

He had a pretty good idea on how Tylor was created.