Page 15 of Self Studies

If I showed I was following directions, he’d have no reason to approach me. A few breaths later, my mind was far away, deep in my mage-trance. Awareness of my magic filled my senses. A pool of refracted colors and molten heat waited just out of my reach.

Despite my efforts to hide, Professor Garnet found me. In my mage-trance, my physical senses were muted. However, my magical ones heightened, and his gem-red magic moved toward me, weaving between indistinct colorful pods of my fellow students’ mystical forms. In the shape of a man, the professor’s power condensed into tubes before flowing into pools in ever-moving shades stronger and brighter than anything else in the room. He sat before me.

His magic looked identical to Damon’s.

My control slipped. Despite the spikes of anger and resentment that now accompanied Damon’s memories, the truth remained, I loved him. He’d been my world. A tear escaped from the corner of my eye. Even in my trance, I could feel it slide down my cheek. The professor was speaking to me, but I didn’t register the words. Damon’s death began to destroy me once more.

Suddenly, large soft hands folded themselves into mine. The physical contact sparked my magic, making it surge forward, looking for somewhere to go. The barrier holding it back vanished. Tingles of heat kissed my every crevice and made my sex ache with need. Raw power encircled me like a lover before flowing into Professor Garnet. Lust and bliss became my world, my reason for existing. I was a vessel for power, for magic. I exist to be used; I silently screamed my truth. Let me give you everything.

The fingers intertwining with mine tightened. Heat rushed between my legs and sent pulses across my clit. Tears of relief spilled down my face. My master had been wrong; he wasn’t the only person who could use me. As my magic flowed into Professor Garnet, the hole surrounding my heart filled.

Someone was yelling and cursing as the muted world began to sharpen—parts of phrases filtered through my trance. “Stop. Release...me… Who. Maybe Prohibere…trigger word? Disaster. Is it a phrase? I command you to stop.”

My magic slowed at the word command, but the voice wasn’t my master. I needed this. I needed to be needed.

The yelling voice grew soft, and his grip relaxed. “Your master commands you to stop.”

Of its own will, the barrier flew up between me and my magic. The hands in mine ripped violently away. My panting sounded loud in my ears, though soon enough, the murmurs of my fellow students covered it. My pussy clenched with a desperate need to be filled. Slowly, I opened my eyes. The room was too bright. Green eyes, rimmed with ruby red, didn’t move from in front of me as my sight adjusted.

Tension hummed between us. Professor Garnet’s chest rose and fell in deep, steady breaths. Muscles bulged on his solid frame as if he’d been lifting weights. His mop of thick brown hair stood straight up, and my crystal magic kissed between the strands as it infused his very being.

Nostrils flaring, he fought to control himself. His erection visibly tented his pants. After a transfer, Damon’s erections had been so hard they’d caused him pain. It was my obligation to release him and heal his hurt.

I shook, both with need and fear, as I looked into Professor Garnet’s heated eyes, expecting the same. The line between pain and pleasure wavered on his face. I instantly regretted putting him in this state, but I wouldn’t take it back. I still had a purpose. Joy and determination erased any lingering doubt about my own will to live.

“Let me fix it,” I whispered.

It was part of the transfer. His release into me would complete the magic’s circle and relax my magic inside both of us.

Professor Garnet had both his hands gripped together in front of him. Slowly, they separated. One hand moved as if to tear my hoodie from me. I squeezed my thighs together in anticipation. Instead, he jerked back, falling slightly from his position.

As if reality snapped back into place, the movement of my fellow students drew my attention. The boy next to me still read his book, and the group of giggling girls had stopped meditating to gossip. Their light chatter filled the room.

I let out a slow breath. Relief and disappointment made my shoulders sag. Damon had never stopped himself, not once. Even when I’d been young and still adjusting to the new dynamics in our relationship. Memories I’d long refused to dwell on surfaced; Damon’s hands bruised my skin instead of caressed. His release had been at my expense, not my pleasure.

Professor Garnet’s self-control took on new meaning. I found myself following his deep breaths. My lust simmered into a controllable need. Damon’s actions hadn’t been his right, but until this moment, I’d not truly realized it.

“You do not exist to be used,” Professor Garnet said softly. I wasn’t sure if he’d spoken them, or I’d thought them.

“What was that?” The student who’d not been reading his book on my other side asked.

Professor Garnet flexed and tried, unsuccessfully, to smooth back his now spiked hair. A few of my rainbows swirled in his eyes. He stood, casually holding the paper in front of his crotch, and returned to the front of the class. “That’s an example of what not to do when facing an unknown mage.”

I blinked and narrowed my eyes at his non-answer. Although my magic subtly changed the professor’s appearance, my fellow students either didn’t notice or didn’t know what was going on.

Weekly, if not more often, I’d filled Damon with my magic. I got the feeling that maybe that wasn’t normal.

The sound of the foghorn blast made me scream and clutch my heart. A few students laughed at my reaction. Books disappeared into bookbags, and the volume in the room rose as students headed out the door.

I popped up with them.

“Wait,” Professor Garnet said, his voice swallowed by the chatter.

I still simmered with need and danced with my new self-awareness. Although I’d been prepared to die with Damon, I hadn’t. He’d lied about so many things. My need to experience the world solidified. It wasn’t something I would let anyone take away from me, ever again.

Fighting past a lifetime of training, I pretended I didn’t hear Professor Garnet and buried the lust coursing through me. The sea of students moving from one class to the next hummed with energy and noise. Although their sheer numbers still unnerved me, my sudden anonymity wrapped me in a comforting blanket. Securing the hood on my sweatshirt, I let the flow of my peers guide me into the halls of the Institute.

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