The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  Zunnoab’s whiskers twitched and a paw covered his mouth. “You are the most unpleasant little man it has ever been my displeasure to work with, and I’m going to inform my mistress about your nasty attitude.”

  The gnome sucked in his tummy, stood to his full height, flipped the furry man the finger, and grabbed his genitals with his other hand, yanking them upward. “Inform ya mistress about this too, ya big sissy.”

  The bahsheer gasped, “Why, I never!”

  Leeky countered, “As if ya could get that lucky!”

  Briar stood speechless, watching first one man then the other. Uthiel was obviously not going to be any help. When she looked his direction, he was smiling and actually enjoying the escalating scene. She lifted her foot and stomped it down hard on top of his.

  “Oww! What the…? Why’d you do that?”

  Briar glared. “You could help me out here, you know. Make them stop fighting or we’ll never get this done before Headmistress Seychelle gets back.”

  The paladin scoffed, “Have you forgotten what you have me dressed in?” He turned in a circle, exposing his bare ass cheeks poking out of the holes of his leather pants. “Do you honestly think they’ll listen to me?”

  Briar giggled, then leaned in close and whispered, “It is a fine ass you have.”

  Uthiel laughed, “I do so love it when you talk dirty, my lady. I’ll try my best to distract them.”

  He sighed as he directed his gaze to Leeky. “Mr. Shortz, umm, I couldn’t help but notice you change your gloves often. How many pair do you have, and do they have a specific purpose?”

  The gnome turned, and his entire countenance changed. His face glowed, in fact.

  “What the tweezed eyebrows of a skirt-wearing ogre transvestite do ya think, lad. I’m a rogue.” He held up his two long-fingered hands. “These finely tuned instruments are my fortune and a national treasure, ta boot. There has never been a lock made these fingers couldn’t pick, a knife they couldn’t wield, or a lady they couldn’t pleasure, so I must protect them. During the war, the government even insured them for a million platt, and that was when I was still a mere novice. Priceless, that’s what they are now.”

  Zunnoab snorted loudly and Leeky lifted his nose, ignoring him.

  Walking over to what looked like a very old, well-used black toolbox, Leeky Shortz picked it up and hurried back to Uthiel and Briar. Setting it gently on the floor before them, he knelt with reverence, and flipped open the lock. Gloves of every color of the rainbow and different textures lay in neat, orderly stacks within.

  Carefully taking his bright red gloves off and holding them in his hand, the gnome looked at Uthiel with a faraway look in his eye.

  “The brown gloves ya saw me wear when handling the box are for dealing with dusty things. These red ones are my vacuuming gloves,” he stopped and glared over his shoulder at the bahsheer, “which is what I was doing before the pussycat there interrupted me.”

  Looking back at Uthiel and Briar, Leeky knelt and, with a single finger, touched a bright yellow pair. “These are my cooking gloves, and these white ones beside them are my checking-for-dust gloves.” He held up first a green pair, then purple, then orange. “Yard work, waxing floors, and cleaning sinks.” Softly he stroked a rose-petal-pink pair. “These I wear when I touch my lady.” His voice was raspy and he cleared his throat.

  Pair after pair he picked up and showed off. There were gloves for carrying wood, then a different pair for cutting it, and then yet another pair for cleaning up the sawdust left behind. Gloves for sweeping, gloves for doing dishes, gloves for ironing, even gloves for folding laundry. And then there was the flesh-colored pair with the suspicious-looking white splotches that the gnome dropped back into the box without an explanation as his cheeks turned as red as his vacuuming gloves.

  Quickly, Leeky lifted out a dark brown, dragon-leather pair and grinned at Briar and Uthiel. “Take a gander at these beauties.” He handed them to Uthiel.

  The paladin rubbed them between his hands with obvious appreciation. “Wow, Mr. Shortz, these are really nice. What do you use them for?”

  The gnome puffed out his chest. “Feel the roughness of the underside of those, young man?”

  Uthiel nodded.

  “Well, lad, ya won’t find a better set for holding onto a pair of stilettos, or any knife ya may find yourself wielding. Not bad when trying ta keep a grip on a big ol’ framing hammer either,” he chuckled.

  Digging deep into the toolbox, Leeky Shortz lifted out a pair of shiny silver gloves so sparkly they glistened with an all-encompassing spectrum of color.

  Briar had an urge to hug the little gnome as she watched tears shimmer in brown eyes too large for his chubby gnome face.

  “These I wear when I pick locks. Aren’t they amazing?” He turned them around and around, letting light glitter through them.

  A moment later, however, Briar no longer wanted to hug him. As a matter of fact, she would have gladly choked the gnome as he lifted up a familiar-looking, midnight-black pair of gloves, then hurriedly stuffed them back into his toolbox.

  “Umm, can’t remember what that pair’s for. Need ta get back ta my duties. What the slimy green ooze on the underbelly of a two-platt hooker are ya thinking? Don’t ya young folk have better things ta do than pester a hardworking gnome?” He kept his head down as he repacked his toolbox, put his red vacuuming gloves back on, and got to work.

  Briar glared at Leeky but he refused to make eye contact with her. Not remember, her foot! Those were the exact gloves he’d been wearing when her panties had disappeared in the hallway and the same ones he’d had on the night she and her friend Alchemia had run across him. Why, that dirty little black-glove-wearing, panty-stealing gnome.

  She had work to do, however, so Briar dismissed all thoughts of Leeky Shortz as she knelt down and flipped open the box at her feet. A cloud of dust floated upward.

  Coughing, she glanced at Uthiel. “Guess we’d better get busy too. Headmistress Seychelle said to have you chained up by the time she got back from her meeting.”

  Uthiel eyed the box dubiously and backed up a step. “I don’t know about this, Briar.” He looked at the winch-like system set up in the middle of the room. “I’m not so sure I like the idea of you chaining me and hefting me three feet off the floor.”

  Patting his exposed ass cheeks through the holes in the skintight leather pants, he added, “Especially dressed, or should I say undressed, like this. There are those who may get the wrong idea. I’m not saying that even chained up I can’t take care of myself, but I’ve gotta admit, I’m a little concerned right about now.”

  Briar put her hands on her hips and glared. “Haven’t I been practicing for weeks with knots and chains?”

  Uthiel closed his eyes and nodded.

  “Have you in any way, shape, or form been injured since we started this class?”

  A devilish smile lit Uthiel’s face. “Well, no, but you do have to admit, Headmistress Seychelle has done an excellent job of keeping flammable materials out of your reach.”

  In the nick of time, Uthiel jumped back and escaped what would’ve been a pretty good kick to his shins.

  Briar reached into the box and came back up waving papers clutched tightly in her hands. “See, instructions! Nothing can go wrong. I do know how to read. Now stand still and let me chain you.”

  Uthiel took a deep breath, said a silent prayer to Draka, and put his hands to his sides.

  Briar stared at the page, trying to understand the diagram and read the instructions. Attach chain A to slot B, loop it around the waist and secure at slot C. Sifting through the box, she found three chain As.

  Thinking perhaps she should organize the parts first, Briar dumped the box out and noticed a small box inside the larger one. Written in bright red letters across it were the words Safety Devices.

  Opening it, she dumped the contents on the soft, furry white floor. Packaged condoms of various sizes, colors, and shapes, two pairs of shiny
handcuffs, a silk scarf, and what looked almost like a short, flesh-colored dildo with an overly fat head and pacifier-like ring on the end of it.

  Briar held it up to Uthiel’s face. “Where do I put this, and what do I do with it?”

  Uthiel jumped back as if burned. “No, you don’t. Not just no, Briar, but oh, VoT no! Get that thing away from me.”

  Leeky Shortz walked over, took off his red vacuuming gloves and replaced them with rainbow-colored ones before taking the device from Briar’s hand. He twirled it around and up and down between his fingers.

  “What the bare-shaved hoo-ha of a red-freckled ogress do ya make of that? It’s been years since I’ve seen one of these. Umm, lass, if ya ever find yourself in a place where they’re issuing butt plugs as safety devices, ya might not wanna stay around there very long.” He placed it back in her hand, switched gloves once more, and continued vacuuming.

  Briar’s face radiated instant heat, and she dropped the object back into its box.

  Raynorel toddled into the room and drew to a halt beside Briar. “Ray loves cock!”

  He grabbed the butt plug between his teeth and trotted off with it. Briar grabbed him by the collar and halted his progress. “No, bad boy. Put that down!”

  She wondered why the first turn of the hourglass of each Dominatrix class session was spent babysitting Ray. Seychelle didn’t even ask anymore; she simply disappeared before class time and didn’t return until the session was almost over.

  She wagged a finger at him. “That belongs with the other stuff from the box, Ray. Now be a good boy and give it back.”

  Though the tug of war lasted a couple of minutes, she did manage to get Ray to release the plug when she grabbed the knobby orange dildo he’d deposited at her feet moments ago, and lobbed it as far as she could.

  “Fetch, boy!”

  Zunnoab discreetly knelt down and retrieved the butt plug. Tucking it into his pocket, he walked away, mumbling, “I’ve been wondering where that got off to.”

  Uthiel glared at Briar. “Now do you see why I’m just a tad reluctant to let you truss me up like a holiday bird, my lady?”

  Hands on hips, lower lip thrust out, and nose tilted ever so slightly upward, Briar smirked, “Uthiel Stoutheart, I never in my wildest imagination thought I would see the day a few flimsy little chains would scare a big strong paladin like you.”

  Uthiel sighed. “It isn’t the chains that scare me, my lady. It isn’t the chains.”

  Leeky took his vacuuming elsewhere.

  ****

  She stood back, evaluating her work with a slight frown on her face. Briar had to admit, it didn’t look quite like the diagram, but then Uthiel’s squirming wasn’t helping matters.

  “Briar, I know for a fact I’m not supposed to be head down, hands behind my back, knees to my chest, and my ass left unprotected and sticking up in the air. I’m telling you, you did something wrong.”

  Briar lifted her eyebrows, rolled her eyes, took a deep breath, and shook her head. Why couldn’t the man just be quiet for a few minutes longer and let her figure out, in peace, what, if anything had gone awry?

  Turning the diagram right side up, then sideways, then upside down, Briar sighed. Maybe her attempt looked a little different because she was using a human. In the diagram, a dwarf with a beard longer than he’d been tall had been used.

  “There’s nothing wrong with how I did it, Uthiel. I followed the directions to the letter. I’m sure when I add the last piece it will all come together and look just like the drawing, you’ll see.”

  Uthiel wiggled. “I really don’t see how anything could fix this, Briar. I’m telling you, you did something wrong. You need to undo it and start over.”

  Briar stomped a foot. “I did not!”

  Uthiel lifted his head as best he could. “Did too!”

  She walked toward him with the last piece in her hand and read the instructions aloud. “Attach the end of chains A, B, C, and F through the lock and snap it securely shut.”

  Uthiel startled as the lock slipped through the chains at the back of his waist. “The key, Briar. You do have the key, don’t you?”

  Snap. She clicked the lock shut.

  “Of course I have the key, silly. You don’t think something as important as the key would be left out of the box, now do you?”

  Zunnoab left his desk and strode over to the couple. With a paw on his chin, he appraised Briar’s work. “Umm, Miss Tumbleweed, I’m afraid I’m going to have to agree with Mr. Stoutheart on this one. I do believe you have made an error in judgment somewhere along the way.”

  Uthiel snorted, “You think?” Wiggling, he glared at Briar. “Get me down from here, please. All of my blood has run to my head. I’m getting dizzy and my hands are numb.”

  Briar sighed. “I suppose you both are right. It still doesn’t look like the diagram.”

  Bending, Briar searched through the remaining odds and ends in the box for the key. She dumped out the contents and sorted through them, twice.

  Lifting the box, she looked under it. She looked to her right, to her left, behind her, and even took a couple of steps forward and backward, just to make sure she wasn’t standing on the key. Her heart pounded.

  “Uhh, Briar?” Uthiel squirmed.

  She glanced desperately toward the bahsheer. “Mr. Zunnoab, do you, by any chance, see the key?”

  The catlike creature looked surprised. “I thought you said you had it.”

  Uthiel muttered louder and louder, “What did I tell you? Make sure you have the key first, Briar, that’s what. Was that so hard to do? I can’t believe this. Wait, yes, I can. Get me the VOT down from here!”

  Briar wrung her hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get Mr. Shortz. He can pick the lock. It’ll be fine, Uthiel. You’ll see.”

  “Ray loves cock!” He deposited his slobbery, orange dildo right below Uthiel’s head and grinned up at him, reminding them both that he was still in the room.

  “Don’t you dare leave me here with him, Briar.”

  She gazed hopefully toward Zunnoab.

  “Oh no, not me, young woman. My duties are here in this office. I’m not going to track down that horrible gnome for you. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Mr. Stoutheart and Ray.”

  Briar sniffed, and swiped at her cheeks, trying to hide the escaping tears she’d so valiantly kept from falling. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart.

  Uthiel must have seen them, though, for he sighed. “Briar, come here, please.”

  She didn’t want to go to him. She didn’t want to see his disappointment in his eyes. She wanted to run away and keep running until The Academy―and her classes, and even the paladin she was forever damaging―were far behind.

  She didn’t, though. Briar was no coward, and she told herself that three times before she finally knelt close to Uthiel’s face. “I’m sorry, Uthiel. I should’ve listened to you.”

  Uthiel shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, my lady. At least you didn’t catch me on fire this time, and I can’t think of another person who I’d ever want to chain me upside down. Right now, though, you have no choice, Briar. You must go find Mr. Shortz.”

  Ray leaned forward and sniffed at Uthiel. “Ray loves cock!”

  Uthiel shuddered. “Hurry, Briar. Just hurry.”

  ****

  It took ten minutes to locate Leeky Shortz, then another five to explain without tears exactly what she needed him to do and why.

  By the time they returned to the trussed-up Uthiel, Headmistress Seychelle herself was there. She circled Uthiel with one finger tapping thoughtfully against her blood-red lips, a confused look on her face and worry lines creasing her brow.

  Briar cringed as the Headmistress locked gazes with her.

  “Hmm. Though I do applaud your ingenuity, Miss Tumbleweed, your inability to follow simple directions concerns me. I pride myself on being able to detect talent even when others can’t see it, and I thought that’s what I saw in you. It’s become painful
ly clear in your case, I was wrong. You are the worst Dominatrix I have ever seen. After you get poor Uthiel down, turn in your leather. It’s back to being a regular student for you.”

  Headmistress Seychelle turned and walked out.

  Tears rose to the surface again, and Briar wasn’t sure if they were tears of joy for getting kicked out of Seychelle’s private class, or tears of frustration for the situation she’d put Uthiel in. She chose to do the only thing she could think of. She closed her eyes to stave them off.

  Leeky Shortz’s voice took on a comforting, almost fatherly tone when he spoke, “What the crossed blue eyes of a pox-faced barbarian does that old biddy know? Don’t ya be worrying yourself, lass. Ya didn’t really wanna be in her old class anyway, did ya? Put it out of ya mind. All is well. I’ll have the lad down from there in a flash.”

  Bending, the gnome opened his toolbox, took out the silver lock-picking gloves, and wiggled his fingers into them. Dragging a stepstool to the inverted paladin, Leeky Shortz climbed until he was even with Uthiel’s butt cheeks. “Excuse me a second, Paladin, but I’m gonna have ta climb on ya ta get ta that lock.”

  Uthiel shook his head. “Do whatever you must.”

  Briar smiled at the rogue gnome, thinking him her knight in shining armor.

  That thought didn’t last long, however. When Leeky Shortz finally got himself into position, standing with a foot balancing precariously on each bare ass cheek, he exclaimed, “What the left ball sac of a one-legged dragon were ya thinking, lass? How in the name of Draka did ya manage ta go this wrong? Uthiel, when I get ya down from here, I suggest ya start running and don’t stop ‘til tomorrow, or perhaps even next week.”

  Briar didn’t smile again the rest of the day.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Briar squinted and scanned the sheet of paper listing the exam room numbers. It didn’t work. She still couldn’t read it clearly. The nagging headache and nervous, queasy stomach that had been plaguing her since the moment she’d woken had the numbers dancing all over the paper.