Rosemary Johns - Rebel Academy - Curse

Tonight, I was allowed to be possessive.

Sleipnir, Magenta, and I crawled over Fox like he was our sacrifice as much as our prize. I shot him a sly grin, before tweaking his nipple. Even though he groaned, his dick twitched.

Interesting.

“Perhaps, this is the off switch?” I said, before trying his Off Nipple, just out of scientific interest.

What do you mean that you don’t believe me?

“Well,” Magenta teased the nipple, which I’d just tweaked between her teeth, and Fox yelped, “at least we’ve found what controls his voice box.”

Sleipnir firmly clutched Fox’s dick, moving it back and forwards; I winced. “Huh, here’s the joystick.”

Magenta looked up from licking Fox’s nipple; he was quivering now and making these cute yipping sounds. “I can assure you that it gave me joy. It’s rather an uncouth term though. Why not the pleasure pole or the Cum Exploder?”

Fox, Sleipnir, and I all grimaced at the same time, and I patted my own dick in comfort.

Sleipnir stroked Fox’s joystick faster with only the flimsiest impression that he was using it to play any game but the Driving Fox Crazy Game.

Magenta sucked up Fox’s neck, as if searching for the non-existent stop button (and I’d never turn off my foxy anyway), while I ran my finger down his stomach, before skirting his balls and down his perineum.

Fox’s breath hitched.

I gusted my breath between Fox’s legs, nudging them apart, before winking at Fox.

I circled my finger over his hole. “Found it.”

Then I laughed, as Fox’s pupils dilated, and I lunged up to kiss him. I tongued him deeply, pressing my body to his; our dicks coiled pleasure through us, as Sleipnir’s hand was caught between us both, wanking us off. Magenta in turn dropped to her knees, catching Sleipnir’s pulsing dick between her lush lips.

Pleasure flared through me at the sight.

We were connected. Our tongues, dicks, and hands touched. The falling stars rained on us like a million stars had imploded. It wound our pleasure higher.

Nearly there, so close… We were all so close…

Was this how I got my wish for multiple orgasms?

Yet even as my balls ached and at last… now, please now… I came across Fox in a pearly streak that mixed with his own warm arc, and we groaned in ecstasy into each other’s mouths, it was weirdly incomplete.

Sleipnir followed, moaning louder than Fox and me combined, before he showed Magenta just how talented a god’s tongue could be.

Yet the Princes weren’t with me in our tangle of blissed out pleasure, sleepy joy, and tacky cum. Even if they weren’t bonded to me, they were still mine. Incubi possessiveness was this whole thing .

Plus, now that Titus had set us the task of creating the Enchanted Ball, it was even more important that we broke the wards. We needed to escape before the Dragon Court descended into war, Titus wrecked Lysander at the Enchanted Ball, and Midnight died from the Sleep Deprivation Hex.

The House of Crows controlled the students, calling breaking them reforming .

But I wouldn’t be broken again, and I wouldn’t let the Princes be either.

This time, no matter the danger, we were fighting back.

Naked bondage was becoming my familiar classroom experience. At least in Spells, Hexes, and Potions. I tingled with a weird anticipation for which of those three thrilling...okay, horrifying ...options would be guinea pig tested on me today. Was this how they controlled and brainwashed whipping boys into obedience?

If I didn't get tied down in Professor Bacchus' lesson, then I wouldn't know what to do with my feline self.

Was dancing to “Stop in the Name of Love”, while shaking my furry ass in Bacchus’ face and whacking her with my tail an option? You know, on that options sheet for our studies that we'd never been given.

Possibly, that was why she tied me down in the first place.

Slugs and beetles, I was screwed.

I groaned, dropping my forehead forward and then groaning again, as it thunked against Midnight's.

I grimaced.

Whoops.

Pluck my prickles, this morning I wasn't even waiting for Bacchus to hurt me (or get the Princes to do it with their experimental hexes), I was going for it myself.

Who said that I wasn't committed to the Rebel Academy's mottoes? I'd even internalized my mage self-loathing.

Who'd have guessed that I'd have turned out to be my own worst enemy?

Well, everybody.

" Ehm , sorry." I rubbed my head side to side against Midnight's like that had magic bruise removal properties. "The head bump greeting is reserved for those you love in shimage society. It's an honor like..."

...Wedding vows...

I might've invented the whole head bump thing, but I still shivered with delight, when Midnight with a careful reverence bumped his head against mine again.

Oww...

Couldn't I have invented a less painful way of showing love? Rebel Academy truly was corrupting me already. Could Bacchus make me want to punish my own foxy arse?

I took a deep breath, counting backward from one hundred. Then I regretted the deep breath because ancient magic bloomed out of the room's spores, and I choked on it.

Familiar or not, I still hated being ensnared. It'd taken me a decade to escape the attic that my family had shut me in, and all the witches wanted to do was wall me up and tie me down again.

I pulled on the purple vines that bound me cross-legged on the floor to Midnight, and they only tightened. I winced, hating the way that Midnight did too.

How many times could you say sorry in one class? I'd bet that I'd smash that record today. So, something to look forward to.

The vines wound around our arms, holding us together from elbow to wrist, and then where our knees touched sort of like a pretty center piece.

I couldn't even wriggle or tap my foot like last time, and each movement jerked Midnight because we were connected. I gritted my teeth against the urge to squirm like the Itching Balls Hex had been cast on me; the floor was a tangle of roots, which also curled around the moss walls, and they dug into my private places .

Bacchus and Hecate combined in this classroom with its blacked-out windows and naughty roots, and they had far too much fun tormenting mages.

Midnight's soft charcoal gaze met mine; his dark eyelashes were sinfully long. "My king."

My breathing slowed, along with the thudding of my heart. Even the roots appeared to lose interest with my balls.

I smiled. "My knight."

Midnight's eyes brightened. He was also naked and palely beautiful with raven hair that tumbled to his waist. His prick was lost in the forest of his hair. I could see its pink head, peeping at me with a twitching hello .

His prick liked me. I was the Prick Charmer.

Midnight's skin next to mine looked like we'd always meant to be tied like this together. Although, that could be the bondage brainwashing talking. He always appeared calm like kneeling as if he was classroom equipment or hanging by his ankles was no different to taking notes on a lecture. For him, it wasn't.

Yeah, an academy education offered equal opportunities. If by equal you meant... you’re lucky not to be thrown to the wolves, shut up forever, or walled up alive pathetic whipping boys...