The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  Briar gulped and her hands trembled. She folded them in her lap and gave herself a mental pep talk.

  This is for Uthiel and I will not be afraid. This is for Uthiel and I will not be afraid.

  She took two deep breaths, said a quick prayer to Lord Draka, and swallowed down her fear.

  With her fortitude renewed, Briar leapt to her feet as the bell tolled the end of class.

  The High Mystic’s office door should’ve been a clue to the man inside. It was the only door in the hallway colored anything other than the same plain eggshell white as the walls.

  This door was a soothing, welcoming, bluish green. An ocean-blue color that inspired trust and serenity. It drew her toward it.

  The words High Mystic Purrell were stenciled in four-inch-high silver letters. The door enticed her to open it―dared her, almost, as if it had the power to hypnotize.

  Briar lifted a hand and knocked. And knocked. And kept knocking. Try as she might, until the door swung open, she could not wrench her hand free of its spell.

  She slipped into a room so mist-filled she couldn’t see her hand before her face. A deep masculine voice beckoned from somewhere farther in the room.

  “Do come in, Miss Tumbleweed. I’ve been expecting you.”

  The thick mist swirled about her as she gingerly traveled forward. She bumped her shin hard into an immovable object and gasped as the mist cleared away. She caught her first glimpse of the man behind the mysterious voice.

  On a gold velvet lounge just inches away lie none other than the beautiful bronzed god Ursula had healed the day Briar had first met Uthiel. He was smiling up at her…and he was also stark-assed naked.

  Briar jumped back at least a foot. His large cock stood at attention, pulsating, as if ready to strike. The thick phallus reminded her of a snake she’d once seen in a sideshow.

  “So, Miss Tumbleweed…Briar…I may call you Briar, mightn’t I?” Mystic Purrell didn’t wait for her answer. “What is it you require of me this fine day? A lesson perhaps? A love spell? Speak up, dear girl. No matter what you may have heard, you’ve nothing to fear from me.”

  A finger ever so slowly stretched out to touch the hem of her tunic, and Briar stepped back once again, almost tripping.

  Mystic Purrell chuckled, “Been warned, I see.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s of no matter. There is ample time for that. Come, come now, what is it you seek?”

  Briar took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She cleared her throat and opened her mouth. But before she got the first word out, a naked woman with hair the color of night and skin like cultured cream glided into the room through the curtained-off entry of what must be an antechamber. Her eyes were glazed, and she moved in a trance-like state. She stopped, staring, a few feet from where the mystic sat.

  High Mystic Purrell looked at the newcomer. “Ah, Dreanna, my dear.” He raised a long, wooden blackboard pointer and touched no more than a spot of skin on her arm. “Be a good girl and come suckle me. I have an urge.”

  Dreanna obediently made her way to the lounge, knelt between Mystic Purrell’s legs, and took his cock into her mouth. He raised his pointer and tapped her rhythmically on top of her head. “Suck, swish, swirl, swallow. Suck, swish, swirl, swallow.”

  Briar was so shocked, she completely forgot what she’d been about to say. With her mouth gaping open, she looked back and forth between the mystic and the naked woman.

  She didn’t know if she should―or even could―intervene, but she had the creepiest feeling she probably couldn’t stop what was happening. From her conversations with her counselor and Alchemia, she knew better than to get close enough to the mystic to put it to the test.

  Purrell turned his attention back to Briar. “Are you aware there’s more protein in one ejaculation than there is in a medium-sized pork chop?”

  Briar blinked but couldn’t take her eyes from the woman’s bobbing head. Up and down, it traveled in a cadence that never changed.

  “Protein…pork chops?”

  She forced herself to look High Mystic Purrell in the eye. She cleared her throat and readied herself to explain to the mystic why she was here. She stopped when he suddenly leaned over the far side of the lounge and picked up a small hardback book.

  “Have you, by chance, read my latest release? Me, Myself, and My Magnificent Cock.” He thrust the book toward her.

  Briar accepted the small manual and shook her head. “Mr. Purrell, I’ve come here today to discuss―”

  The mystic spoke over her, “It’s fascinating reading, if I do say so myself. The reviews I’ve been getting are absolutely astounding.”

  Briar shook her head. “I didn’t come here to discuss books. I came here for answers.”

  Purrell ignored her, adjusted his balls beneath the lips of the still-sucking Dreanna, and patted the woman on the head. Once more, the mystic leaned over and this time came back with four more volumes. He handed them to Briar.

  “These are must-reads. Riveting! And they hold the answers to almost any question you may have about life. Certainly the important questions.”

  Briar took them, careful to not touch even the tips of his fingers. She had no intention of ending up like Dreanna, whose full, pouty mouth slid rhythmically up and down the mystic’s impressive shaft.

  She glanced at the titles. A New Cock on the Block, Cock-A-Doodle-Do-Just-Any-Cock-Won’t-Do, and The Cock is My Friend, Your Friend, Everybody’s Friend. She shuddered. “What do your books have to do with my reason for being here? I have specific questions.”

  Just then another woman, also completely naked and identical to the first, entered from the same area Dreanna had. Her eyes were just as glazed over as her twin sister’s were.

  Immediately Mystic Purrell touched her with his pointer. “Dreena, my sugar lump. Do be a dear and scratch what itches me, won’t you, please?”

  The woman instantly proceeded to the head of the lounge, placed her long fingers into Mystic Purrell’s hair, and massaged. Her small, perky breasts were level with his head, and with each scratch she executed, her rose-tipped nipples slid in and out of his blond, Adonis-like curls in a disturbing, sex-like performance of their own.

  The man almost purred as he closed his eyes and tapped first one then the other of the women and chanted, “Scratch, scratch, suck, swish, swirl, swallow. Scratch, scratch, suck, swish, swirl, swallow.”

  He didn’t even bother to open his eyes as he spoke to Briar, “Are you aware that sperm is virtually fat-free and low in calories? The perfect food for those watching their waistlines, if you ask me. Now, dear, was there anything else you needed?”

  Briar stared at the man, wanting, at this point, to box him about the ears more than she wanted to ask him questions. She couldn’t do that, of course, because she hadn’t yet explained Uthiel’s problem.

  She swallowed her pride and took a deep breath. “Yes, Mr. Purrell. There is something more I need. I have a friend who―”

  The door burst open with a bang and in stomped a woman identical to the other two already in the room.

  With her hands on her hips, she stalked over to Mystic Purrell and glared.

  “What have you done to my sisters this time, you sicko pervert?” she yelled. “I sent them here to get the damn research material you said you simply had to have edited right away. How do you expect to meet your deadline if you continually insist on using your powers to force every female who walks through your door to do disgusting things to you for hours on end?”

  The new woman must have finally noticed her, because she turned toward Briar. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave. No matter what this depraved nutcase has promised you, trust me, it’s not worth it.”

  Briar gulped and backed toward the door.

  The stranger spun toward her sisters. She shook and tugged at Dreanna, trying to dislodge her from Mystic Purrell’s cock. With no success.

  High Mystic Purrell smiled indulgently, “Drelyn, my little tease, it’s alwa
ys good to see you too.” He raised his pointer and poked her in the ribs. “I’m suddenly warm, sweetling. Do be a dear girl and fan me.”

  Briar gasped as Drelyn’s clothing fell to the floor. In a trance, the third sister walked to the far side of the lounge, picked up a large fan made of pale blue feathers, and lifted it high above her head.

  Drelyn swept the fan up and down. With the upstrokes, her small, upturned breasts bounced and jiggled. With each downstroke, her nipples grew pebble-hard with the exertion.

  The Mystic reached out, tweaked the closest nipple, and grinned from ear to ear. It wasn’t her breasts that were at his eye level, however. Purrell rotated his body just enough to be able to slide his hand between her creamy thighs, and with a single finger, entered her pussy.

  Drelyn’s expression never changed, and neither did her sisters as the mystic’s finger slid in and out while the fan pumped up and down. The rhythm perfectly matched the bobbing, cock-sucking mouth of Dreanna, and the hair-fucking motion Dreena’s scratching made.

  With an almost silent pop, Purrell let loose of his prize pussy and smiled at Briar. “Were you aware that only two percent of the population is flexible enough to perform fellatio on themselves?”

  Self-preservation overcame her shock. Briar took two steps back and closer to the door while shaking her head.

  High Mystic Purrell ignored her retreat. He sang his chant loud enough for all of Albrath to hear. “Fan, scratch, suck, swish, swirl, swallow. Fan, scratch, suck, swish, swirl, swallow.”

  He finally glanced toward Briar. “Now, my dear, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

  Briar dropped the books, turned, and fled. She wanted a shower. Her skin crawled and itched. The lingering feel of the mist, the man, and the memories of Mystic Purrell’s office clung to her like a layer of dust she couldn’t outrun.

  There wasn’t time, however. She couldn’t be late for Healing the Soul class.

  She didn’t make it more than three steps from the mystic’s door before she ran into the last person on Albrath she wanted to see. If the look of surprise on Uthiel’s face was any indication, he hadn’t expected to see her here either.

  Briar racked her brain for a plausible explanation for being in this part of the castle and couldn’t come up with a single one. She decided to go on the offense instead.

  “Uthiel, what are you doing here? You’re going to be late for our Healing the Soul class at this rate. We’d better hurry along.” Heat wicked up her neck, all the way to the top of her head. She swallowed hard, trying to cover her nervousness.

  Uthiel’s jaw twitched as he drummed his fingers against the side of his breeks. He looked angry, and Briar knew without a doubt he hadn’t been fooled.

  “I had a midterm appointment with one of my instructors, Briar. I can’t think of any reason why you’d be here, though. Why did I see you exiting High Mystic Purrell’s office? What business could you have had with him? He has a reputation of being a perverted expert on the subject of cocks. Are you having cock issues, Briar?”

  Her face burned. “It was just a wrong turn. I was asking directions.”

  Uthiel added tapping his foot to the twitching of his jaw and the drumming of his fingers.

  Her palms began to sweat, so Briar wiped them on her tunic. “All right, if you must know, I was doing research for one of my classes and needed to ask him a question about something regarding male…stuff.”

  “Which class?”

  Briar gulped. “Umm…Spirits and Spells?”

  “What was the question?”

  She was trapped and her anger rose. “What difference does it make? It was my question and he didn’t answer it anyway.”

  Uthiel tilted her jaw until she had no choice but to look him in the eye. “You were seeking his help concerning me. You won’t give up on your silly idea of healing me, will you?”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes, but Briar shook her head.

  “Why won’t you listen when I say you can’t accomplish this task, Briar? Why must you try and fix what isn’t fixable? I neither need nor want your assistance in this matter. The only thing that can help me is to find that red demon of a dragon and take its life for the life it took. Then and only then will I find any measure of peace. Don’t involve anyone else in my problem, Briar. I mean it.”

  Without giving her a chance to explain, Uthiel turned and walked away but not before leaving her with one last comment. “I don’t appreciate your efforts, Briar. I wish I’d never told you.”

  The tears fell then, and Briar was glad no one was around to see them.

  Why couldn’t she ever do anything right, and why couldn’t she make him understand how important finding a way to heal him was?

  ****

  She had always looked forward to Healing the Soul class more than any other part of her day. It was her time with Uthiel, her chance to have him all to herself, if only for a single turn of the hourglass.

  But she didn’t look forward to it today.

  After the disturbing appointment with High Mystic Purrell and the even more disturbing conversation with Uthiel, Briar dreaded walking into the room and facing her Healing the Soul partner again so soon.

  The class was already filling when she arrived, so she headed straight for her cubicle. Through the open doorway she could see Uthiel, and he wasn’t alone. A troll she’d never seen before sat on the far side of the bed, but it was the other occupant in the cubicle that caught Briar’s attention.

  A black-haired, high-elf female was practically sitting in Uthiel’s lap, cooing something in his ear, and Uthiel…Uthiel was smiling!

  Blood rushed through Briar’s veins and pounded in her temples. It was difficult to breathe, and her first thought was the almost uncontrollable urge to rip black hair from its roots and toss the woman off a cliff. Her fingers tingled with the desire to do just that.

  They didn’t notice Briar as she made her way into the cubicle. Uthiel glanced at her, but quickly looked back at the other woman. “Oh, Briar, say hi to Olivia. She’s going to be part of our group today.”

  Steam would have blown from her ears if Briar could’ve managed it. Instead, she schooled her expression, plastered a smile on her face, and extended a hand as she sidestepped until she was once more directly in Uthiel’s line of sight.

  “Nice to meet you, Olivia.”

  The two women’s fingers had barely touched when Olivia jerked her hand away as if she’d been touched by something dirty. The simpering smile on her face never faltered as she smiled at Uthiel and said in a voice dripping with honey, “Why, your little Briar is just the sweetest thing, isn’t she? So…very common.”

  Briar cringed, and a part of her wanted very much to slap the condescending smile from Olivia’s gaudily painted bright red lips. Her hands itched to feel the woman’s cheek beneath her palm.

  A voice from the other side of the bed drew her attention.

  “Aren’t you gonna introduce me to the lovely lady, mate? I’m part of this group too, ya know.” He winked at Briar and smiled. “A very active member of the group, if I have my say about it.”

  The man leered. Briar could barely keep her plastered-on smile from wavering. He was a troll, an honest-to-goodness troll with pale green skin, greasy black hair, yellowed tusks, and sharp, fang-like teeth. He reminded Briar of a guard dog she’d once seen in the Dak Forest. A very big, always hungry, always-ready-to-pounce guard dog. She didn’t like this man in the least, and her skin prickled uncomfortably when he held out his hand.

  “Zasix’s the name, luv. And it’s surely a pleasure to meet a sweet, ducky little chit like you. Bet you’ll taste yummy.”

  Lifelong lessons in manners prevailed, and she tentatively accepted his hand in greeting. His palm was sweaty and Briar couldn’t help but flinch and tug to free herself.

  Zasix, however, didn’t let go.

  He slowly brought her hand to his mouth and sucked one finger deep into his wet, slobbery mouth w
hile grinning lecherously at her.

  Briar’s protective force field zinged to life and she quickly tamped it down before it could shock him. Bile threatened to rise in her throat, and she swallowed it back. With more than a little effort, she wrenched her hand free of Zasix’s hold and wiped off his sweat.

  She glanced toward Uthiel to gauge his reaction to Zasix but all she could see was the other woman. Olivia was plastered against Uthiel, glued so closely not even a feather could’ve passed between them.

  Enough was enough. Perhaps she had been in the wrong, seeking help from High Mystic Purrell for Uthiel’s problem. And perhaps she couldn’t blame Uthiel for being angry with her for interfering, but that didn’t mean she was going to take this.

  Briar walked over and plopped herself on the edge of Uthiel’s lap while turning toward Olivia. She bumped against the other woman hard, forcing Olivia to scoot over. In a single motion, Briar slipped into the vacated spot.

  “Oh, pardon me, Olivia. This is my seat. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Olivia was practically thrown up against the troll and obviously didn’t appreciate it in the least.

  “Why, I’ve never been treated so rudely!”

  Briar smiled sweetly. “Was I being rude? Dear me, I certainly didn’t mean to be. Where I come from, out in the woods, that’s just what we call marking our territory.”

  Olivia stood, her face as red as her manicured nails.

  “It wasn’t my idea to be paired up with the likes of you in the first place. I’ll not tolerate being treated so shabbily. I’m accustomed to better. You obviously aren’t of pureblood like me, are you? Hmm, let’s see…half-elf, are we? How provincial,” she laughed cruelly.

  Briar opened her mouth to retort, but Uthiel’s hand clamped tight across her lips, preventing her response. Angry eyes the color of a stormy sea stared at her, as his head shook back and forth.

  How dare he take the side of the black-haired hussy over her!

  She bit him.

  Not enough to draw blood, but just hard enough to let him know she wasn’t going to sit by quietly.