The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

Briar sighed. More than anything, she simply wanted to cry.

  Uthiel hadn’t found release. He hadn’t even come close. She could tell without a doubt he hadn’t. He was still pulsating deep within her.

  But what if she were to do exactly as Idelette had just done to Glacio…take Uthiel into her mouth before taking him into her body? Could that possibly heal him? Lead him to his own pleasure?

  She vowed to try. What could she lose, after all? It hadn’t looked that hard.

  Within moments, the duet on the platform sang out their combined joy in a lyrical song of satisfied splendor.

  The lights came back up, and Mr. Chamman once more took his place at the podium. Briar watched her instructor thank and shake hands with the couple, and then turn back to the class.

  “That was a fine demonstration, indeed,” Mr. Chamman said. “We took the liberty of adding candles to your cubicles today in order to give you a small taste of ambience. I hope it helps. Please feel free to take as long as you need to practice.”

  Uthiel hugged Briar playfully and lifted her off of his still-swollen cock.

  Smiling impishly, he teased, “Well, my lady, it seems we’ve already practiced, and quite well, I might add. Though there is one area you could use practice in…talk dirty to me, Briar. Just a word or two, like Idelette and Glacio did with each other. Show me just a glimpse of your bad-girl side. I’m sure you must have one hidden somewhere.”

  Heat crept up her neck. “I wouldn’t know how.”

  Uthiel chuckled, “Come on, you can do it. Start with something easy. Think of the naughtiest word you know and say it three times really fast.”

  Briar swatted his shoulder. “People don’t really do that. You’re making fun of me. Anyway, I only know one naughty word, and I got into so much trouble for saying it when I was young, I wouldn’t dare do it again.”

  Uthiel grinned at her again and winked. “Say it, Briar. You know you want to.”

  She giggled, and looked to her right, then to her left. “Penis, penis, penis,” she whispered.

  He doubled over in laughter. “You’ve made my day, my lady. You get an A-plus, and you can talk dirty to me whenever you wish.” He stood and hiked up his breeks.

  Briar took hold of his hand to get his attention.

  He glanced at her, a questioning look on his face.

  She cleared her throat but couldn’t quite meet his eyes as she spoke, “My counselor says that High Mystic Purrell may be able to help you with your problem.”

  “Problem?”

  Briar gulped and averted her eyes once more. “You know, your inability-to-orgasm problem.”

  “You’ve been discussing my personal issues with others?” Uthiel’s voice, as cold as a deep winter’s night, chilled her.

  Briar shook her head. “I didn’t give her your name, I swear. All I did was ask if she knew anything that might help someone in your… situation.”

  “You had no right, Briar.”

  He paced back and forth in the cubicle. “I trusted you with a secret. You can’t heal me. I’ve already told you that. Nobody can. The only thing that will ever help me is the death of that bastard-ass dragon. Promise me you’ll not seek your counselor’s advice concerning me again.”

  Briar bit her lip. “I told you, I didn’t use any names. She doesn’t know it’s you. But, I promise, I won’t seek her help again.” She crossed her heart. “Forgive me?”

  Uthiel sighed, and the strained look on his face relaxed. “I’ll forgive you this time, Briar, but please don’t make me sorry for confiding in you.”

  Briar glanced at Uthiel and decided the topic had been discussed more than enough for the time being. “Thank you,” she sighed.

  “Not to change the subject, but I have one more thing to ask of you. Would it be a great imposition if I did to you what Idelette first did with Glacio? I haven’t had the opportunity to…you know, put you in my mouth that way. It looked…interesting.”

  He stared at her as if not comprehending her question for the space of thirty-six heartbeats before he suddenly smiled.

  Kicking off his boots and discarding his breeks, Uthiel sat on the edge of the bed with his feet planted firmly on the floor. His still-hard cock stood proudly at attention.

  He took Briar’s face gently in his hands. “My body is for your pleasure, my lady. Anytime, anywhere, in any way.”

  She knelt before him, her mouth suddenly dry, and gazed into his stormy eyes. “I wish to bring you pleasure, Uthiel. I wish to heal you. I wish it with all my heart.”

  He cupped her chin once more and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers in a tender kiss. “Though you can not heal me, you do give me pleasure, sweet Briar, much pleasure.”

  He straightened and Briar flicked out her tongue, tentatively tasting the very tip of his cock. She smiled as his all-male essence teased her taste buds.

  Placing a hand on each of his knees for balance, Briar slowly took the head of his cock into her mouth, savoring the sensation of silk upon steel. So soft, the skin was. And warm, and alive, and sweet.

  She closed her eyes and allowed her tongue to explore, taste, touch, and play with the different textures. Though the skin on top was soft, the underneath had a corded ridge that tickled Briar’s tongue as she slid it back and forth.

  The protruding veins on both sides intrigued her with the feel of coursing blood so swift and powerful, so much this man. The almost inaudible groan she heard escaping his lips spurred her on.

  She suckled him in earnest, letting her mouth take in as much as it could, ‘til the head of his cock touched the back of her throat, then back out until only the very tip remained hidden from view.

  Sweet. The man tasted of warm spice and hot toffee.

  For long minutes she played, content with learning the feel and taste of him. The realization that this particular position held much power had her smiling once again.

  She nipped the very tip of his cock and he shuddered beneath her. She darted her tongue into the small hole on the top and his whole body shook with spasms.

  Still, she could tell he wasn’t close to release. His breathing was too steady, and though he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, there was a part of him he was holding back.

  His hands clenched her shoulders and the muscles of his fine ass contracted and expanded as he slid his cock in and out of her mouth, helping her pleasure him. She took her hands off his knees and placed one firmly around his shaft as the other grasped and fondled the sac that held safe his testes.

  She squeezed him gently at first, then tighter and tighter.

  “You vixen!” he gasped. Her blood boiled and her heart pumped even faster.

  A steady rhythm ensued, and for the first time, Briar felt she was one with this man. An extension of him; separate, but yet the same. The feel, taste, and smell of him was now a comfortable normalcy.

  She slowed the pace and concentrated on the pounding of his heart through the veins of his cock, then sped up once more and gloried at the quick intake of his breath.

  He was getting close to release now, she could feel it. With his eyes closed and head thrown back, his cock pulsed as rapid and strong as his own heartbeat. Soon it would be time to slide up his body and take him inside herself. Soon she would see him healed.

  Her hair hung down her back and curled about her face. For a fleeting moment, Briar wished she had fashioned it into a braid today. It was in her way and getting in her mouth. She flipped it over her shoulder and out of the way.

  The smell of burning hair and Uthiel’s scream of “Briar!” startled her. She jumped up and away.

  Briar swatted at her scorched, singed hair, and knocked into the candle that must have set her hair on fire in the first place. The candle tumbled out of sight and hot wax flew through the air, landing squarely in the middle of Uthiel’s naked lap.

  The next scream from Uthiel’s lips certainly wasn’t Briar’s name.

  ****

  Mist swirled about Briar�
�s ankles and she fought what she knew would be coming. The day had ended horribly and the only thing in all of Albrath she wanted was a good night’s sleep.

  But it wasn’t to be.

  “Our destinies are intertwined, young Healer. Yours, mine, and the paladin’s.”

  Briar squirmed in her bed. “No, they’re not, Carnelian. He hates me and never wants to see me again.”

  A warm sigh coated the chill of her skin.

  “Half-elf, half-human females can be so dramatic. The paladin does not hate you, trust me in this. He saves his hatred for someone else. Love the paladin, Healer. Love him before it’s too late, and learn.”

  Chapter Nine

  She couldn’t wear it where anyone might see her, she simply couldn’t. Not that she knew how to put it on in the first place. But still, she couldn’t and wouldn’t.

  Briar held one skimpy piece of black leather in her hand and stared at the pile of odds and ends on her bed.

  How had such a horrible misunderstanding happened? She closed her eyes tightly to trap the threatening tears, not wanting to give into them as she had over and over the night before.

  Even comforting words from Alchemia hadn’t helped stem their flow.

  Unfortunately, the surprised and pain-filled look on Uthiel’s face was now, and would be forever more, permanently etched in her memory. But it was the embarrassed, angry, and disappointed gaze he’d leveled on her moments later that was now burned into her very soul.

  When the cubicle door had burst open after his scream, Mr. Chamman and the entire Board of Directors―with Headmistress Seychelle leading the way―stared at Uthiel’s exposed genitals covered in hot wax and quickly shrinking before their very eyes.

  Of course, the conversation that followed was of no help to the situation either.

  “Didn’t I tell you she’s a prodigy, Mr. Chamman? And here you doubted me,” Headmistress Seychelle beamed. “I’ve personally seen her dominate this sweet little paladin on three different occasions now. I simply insist she gets out of class on time so she may come to my office for private tutoring. A talent such as this can not be ignored and must be carefully nurtured.”

  “‘Sweet little paladin’?” Uthiel hissed. He rose gingerly, plucked the cooled wax from his cock and balls, and carefully tugged his breeks back up. He picked up his boots and walked out without so much as a backward glance.

  “It was an accident, a horrible accident,” Briar protested. Her words had fallen on deaf ears.

  He would never forgive her this time, that was for certain, and he would probably never speak to her again.

  The tears did fall now. She’d failed. She’d lost him before she had a chance to heal him, and all because she was an uncoordinated ninny.

  Why was she like that around him? It didn’t happen in any of her other classes. Of course, there weren’t body parts touching other body parts in her other classes. At least, not her body parts.

  And then there had been the dream again last night, just when she’d convinced herself the first one had been simply the product of something she’d eaten and not a stupid message about her destiny.

  And now this. Was life conspiring against her?

  Because when Briar had thought it couldn’t get any worse, the package arrived at the door of her dormitory this morning, along with a note from Headmistress Seychelle. Here is your Dominatrix apprentice uniform. You will wear it every day during our class. Don’t be late.

  To her credit, Alchemia did try to hide the shock on her face when Briar showed her the outfit but, ultimately, her friend failed. Her quick, hard hug was more apologetic than comforting. She stuttered as she walked out the door on her way to classes. “It…it…uhh, well, it will be fine, Briar. You-it…umm, yes.” Her words didn’t ring true, even to Briar’s desperate ears.

  Briar took her pillow out of its case and tossed it on the bed. Stuffing the leather pieces, spiked collar, chains, and stiletto-heeled boots as deeply as she could into the pillowcase, she slung it over her shoulder, sighed, and headed off to her first class of the day.

  For now, she would wear her plain white healer’s tunic. The time for Headmistress Seychelle’s leather nightmare would come soon enough.

  ****

  “Oomph.”

  Sarco hit the ground for the second time in as many minutes. VoT, this hurts.

  He glared at his friend and growled, “When I agreed to cross swords with you today, Uthiel, it wasn’t with the understanding that you’d pummel me into fodder. I haven’t yet broken my fast this morning and I doubt I’ll be able to keep even a crumb down now.”

  What he didn’t say aloud was the question foremost in his mind: what the hell was Uthiel’s problem?

  Uthiel dropped to his knees. Sweat glistened on his chest and his breath came fast and hard, and he finally met Sarco’s eyes.

  Sarco sighed and waited for Uthiel’s explanation.

  It wasn’t long in coming.

  “I am truly sorry, my friend. I had no right to wake you so early or to take my frustrations out on you as I have.” He snorted, and his voice boomed throughout the arena. “‘Sweet little paladin,’ that’s what Seychelle called me. In front of the whole Board and the class. If I could wrap my hands around the Headmistress’s neck, I swear I would.” Uthiel sat back on his heels. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t choke the life from her, but I’d make her think I was going to.

  “And then there’s Briar. What in the name of Draka am I going to do about Briar?” Uthiel glanced around the arena as if an answer might magically appear upon its cold walls.

  Sarco stood and dusted himself off, wishing he had insightful words of wisdom to offer his friend, but he didn’t. Words of wisdom required experience with the thinking process of women, and other than enjoying more than his fair share of feminine pleasures, his experience was limited to their bodies, not their minds. It had to be that way. As the heir to the Lordship of the Elves, he couldn’t allow himself to get too close. Duty dictated his future spouse be chosen for him, not any he himself could handpick.

  Sarco settled for saying something more relevant. “I have no idea what you should do about your Miss Briarlarn Tumbleweed. What I do know, though, is every time she causes you bodily harm, it somehow trickles down to me.”

  Uthiel chuckled. “I really am sorry.” He stood and paced.

  “In some ways, Sarco, Briar’s the most amazing woman you could ever imagine. She’s innocence and sunshine and, at the same time, she drives me to distraction.”

  Uthiel paused and ran his fingers through his hair. Sarco allowed him time to gather his thoughts, realizing his friend needed a sounding board a lot more than he needed actual advice.

  “What’s to be done with a woman like that? Perhaps I should break the tie between us now, while I still have flesh on my bones.”

  “It’s too late for that, and you know it.” Sarco picked a stray piece of debris from his robe so he didn’t have to look at his friend. Uthiel would have a hard enough time hearing Sarco’s thoughts on the matter without forcing eye contact. “You’re already in love with her. It’s written all over your face.” He glanced up to see the effect of his words.

  Uthiel shook his head and resumed pacing. “No, I’m not. Don’t even say that. But my feelings about the little…trouble-maker aren’t important. What is important is how I am going to walk back into Healing the Soul after what happened yesterday? I can’t, I won’t. Fuck, I just need to drop the stupid class and get it over with.”

  Sarco scoffed. “You can run but you can’t hide from this, my friend.”

  Uthiel’s expression was bleak. Sarco wished he had the power to take away his pain. For Uthiel was hurting, and if Sarco ever doubted it before, his friend’s next words confirmed it.

  “It’ll be best for the both of us, won’t it? Briar’s becoming too attached to me anyway, and, I have to admit, I do like her more than I should.”

  Uthiel’s expression turned to one of stubborn determination. Sar
co had seen that same look on his friend’s face many times and knew Uthiel Stoutheart wasn’t going to listen to reason from anybody until he was good and ready.

  Uthiel fisted his hands at his sides. “I can’t allow the feelings between us to grow, Sarco. It wouldn’t be fair to her. She deserves a whole man, not someone like me.”

  So that was the problem? The oh-poor-me-I-can’t-shoot-my-load-so-I’m-not-a-real-man issue? Good Lord Draka!

  Sarco stood and strode toward the arena double doors. If he couldn’t reason with his blockheaded friend, perhaps he could piss him off enough to open his eyes. “What bull! When did you become such a big la-la sissy whiner? I never in an eon thought I’d see the day Uthiel Stoutheart, the mighty paladin, would run scared from a slip of a girl. Go home and douche your vagina or something.”

  That ought to do it…yup. He could hear Uthiel’s approaching footsteps.

  Instinct warned him to protect the area where his head met the rest of his body—a swing from Uthiel’s broadsword just might separate the two. But he resisted the urge. He trusted Uthiel with his life, he always had. He always would.

  “I’m not running away from anything,” the paladin roared. “You know as well as I do that I’m no good for her. I’m trying to do what’s right here, and in the process, perhaps preserve what hide I have left.”

  Sarco stopped walking away. It was time to relent. If he was ever going to get through to his friend it was now.

  He strode back to Uthiel and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t you understand? You can quit your class, you can even try to avoid Briar altogether, but Uthiel—my oldest, dearest friend in all of Albrath—in the end, you simply can’t run from love, for it will find you. And whether you know it in your heart to be true or not, you’re in love with the girl. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes.”

  Uthiel shook off Sarco’s hand, and for the space of the dropping of three grains of sand, his mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water.

  “I am not!” he yelled.

  Sarco sighed and folded his arms across his chest, tired of fighting this battle. “Personally, I’m happy for you, Uthiel. You’ve been alone for far too long. Why can’t you accept the gift fate has given you? Embrace it, even? It’ll be easier in the long run.”