Office Hours Ch. 09

Sabrina had bought the crystal cheap at one of the many Renaissance Fairs that Lindsay had roped her into attending with her. It was at one of these festivals that Sabrina had also purchased her cloak. Lindsay had agreed to keep quiet about the exorbitant price Sabrina had paid for the garment, so long as Sabrina kept her mouth closed about finding Lindsay going at it with the buxom girl from the Drench the Wench booth behind the glassblowing tents. That girl had a real knack for turning up in shady corners with strange women.

The Empress luxuriated for a long while, allowing the slave to pleasure her as she offered taunts and insults, yanking his long hair and smacking at the crystal in his mouth through his cheek. At last she wrapped her legs tight around the boy's waist and pulled him low by the rope around his neck to sink her teeth into shoulder as her body shivered with lovely little orgasm.

"Well done, Toy!" said the Empress, sitting up and shoving the young prince to the floor. "The dozens who die daily attempting to free you would surely be proud of how thoroughly you satisfy their murderer."

The slave clearly wished to protest and plea, but his tongue was still occupied desecrating the sacred Heartstone.

Axian stood, adjusting her cloak and fetching her switch from the bed. She gave Prince Maka several hard, practiced swats around his shoulders and thighs, and the boy settled on hands and knees. The Empress fetched a goblet from atop the dresser and sat on her slave's straight back, folding her legs prettily. She sipped wine from the same vessel from which she had gulped the blood of the boy's father after carving the heart from his chest. (Then and now, it was cranberry juice and vodka).

"Prince Maka fon Glostler," mused the Empress. "Joy of his mother, pride of his father...the hope of a nation. And now?" Axian gave the slave a swat on the ass with her switch and cackled with evil laughter. "A piece of meat I use to amuse myself! A plaything. Isn't that delightful? Well? Speak."

Empress Axian held the goblet to the prince Maka's chin and he reluctantly spit the Heartstone into the wine. "You're twisted and cruel!" the boy hissed.

"Oh, I know." Axian caressed the slave's ass with the length of wood in her hand and pressed the goblet closer the boy's lips. "Drink."

Prince Maka screwed his eyes closed in agony and forced himself to sip wine tainted with his people's defiled treasure, from a goblet forever stained with the blood of his kin.

The Empress laughed again and stood. Setting aside the goblet, she pulled her leg back and kicked the boy hard in the stomach, sending him rolling and coughing onto his back. (They were, of course, both acting—despite the theatrics, Sabrina had given Jason little more than a tap. She had grown much more skillful, and careful, in only hurting him for fun, rather than for real).

Through Empress Axian's powerful witchcraft, Prince Maka had no choice but to always be hard for her. And so, before the boy had even stopped choking for breath, the Empress tossed back her enormous cloak and straddled the slave on the floor, grabbing his prick and plunging it inside her.

"Please," gasped the pathetic Toy. "No more!"

"Try again!" roared the Empress, grabbing her slaveboy's bangs and slamming his head against the floor several times.

Maka winced and hesitated before finally stammering, "Th-thank you, My Lady..." as the Empress began to grind atop him in earnest.

Axian wrapped her hands around the Toy's neck above the rope and started bouncing harder, relishing the heat that burst up into her body with every wet slap. It never got old, not ever ever, this fiery merging of their bodies. As usual, though, the Empress' mask became cumbersome as she rode the boy, so Axian loosened the strap and tossed the heavy thing away, throwing back her head with a liberated sigh and slicking her sweaty hair. She had grown it out some recently, though it was still fairly short, especially compared to Jason's mane. He had kept growing out his own silly mop, though at least a tape measure had recently proved that she was slightly taller than him.

"I may be cruel," Divine Axian panted, her bare face pressing close at the slaveboy's. "Twisted, yes. But that is why I am Matriarch of the Nine Seas...that is why your parents' crowns shattered under my feet and your people prostrate before me in terror..." Axian gently kissed Prince Maka's worried, frowning lips. "And that is why, as you feasted on my sex this very night, my armies were at that moment already reducing the borderlands to ashes!"

"No!" Prince Maka moaned. "No, no! Do your oaths mean nothing?!"

"Nothing to a worthless Toy!"

At that moment, basking in the slaves humiliated agony, Empress Axian tossed back her head again, shuttered, and growled through clenched teeth as an orgasm seized her body and blasted her mind of thought.

Sabrina melted atop Jason. She panted into his neck awhile as he scratched her back and pecked soft little kisses against her ear. But soon she popped up and knelt on the carpet next the kid, stroking his paint-streaked face with one hand while the other started pumping his wet, still-hard cock.

"You've been having trouble coming all week," Sabrina said. "Stop lying. You're nervous about graduating this weekend, aren't you?"

Jason closed his eyes, sighing deeply at Sabrina's vigorous, expert touch. "You still haven't said you're proud of me for graduating a semester early, you know."

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "I got my undergrad over a year early."

Jason chuckled, then was quiet for awhile, only grunting and mewing with pleasure every now and then as Sabrina worked him.

"It's a big change. I feel like I'm losing everything I know. No more classes, no more office hours...And of course the magazine wants me to start work practically right away."

"You aren't losing me," Sabrina said, kissing Jason between the eyes. "That isn't changing. We'll keep having office hours every day, you and me, from now til forever. And whatever does change, I'll be there to help you figure it out." Jason smiled and nodded, taking Sabrina's hand and kissing her palm. Only a little later, he finally came over Sabrina's pumping fist, biting his lip and pressing her fingers to his cheek. "There you go. That's my kiddo."

Sabrina ruffled Jason's hair and stood, snatching a waiting towel from the nightstand to clean her sticky hand while she put on her glasses. She always thought she should feel ridiculous wearing the red cloak after the game had ended, yet she never did.

"You're so mean," Jason commented, gathering himself up. "I thought the borderlands were off limits, what with the displaced Brothers of Talmat trying reestablish their rectories."

"Pompous seditionists!" Sabrina said in her Empress voice. "That was merely a ruse to foster the insurgency's bid to retake Castle Rikes, and-" Sabrina sighed as she shrugged the cloak off onto the bed. "You've turned me into such a dork."

"You brewed up the scenario all on your own!" Jason protested. "All from that pretty brain of yours."

"Yes, well, you started it. You started it all." Sabrina put on a falsetto and fluttered her hands about. "Oh, Professor, I love you! Oh, Professor, let me take your picture!"

Jason strode forward and kissed the back of Sabrina's neck. "Hey, it all worked out," he said confidently. "And just who's portrait was it that I recently sold to that gallery downtown? That photo of some wanton young woman having her last ever cigarette deep in the woods?"

Sabrina smiled and slipped into her comfy, cotton robe. She patted Jason's cheek and said, "Tidy up," as she strode from the bedroom.

A single floor lamp in the far corner of the living room lit a shadowy path into the kitchen. Cookware piled on the stove, still fragrant with oil and herbs, scented the air. Sabrina opened the refrigerator and claimed the last beer still remaining after a lively evening. She wrenched off the cap and sipped, standing in the kitchen doorway and peering over her living room. The couch on which she and Jason had so thoroughly acquainted themselves was still pushed against the far wall, but it had been joined in the room by two more couches and at least half a dozen assorted chairs. Everywhere were little tables which were still littered with countless cans, plates, and glasses. The detritus of another successful Thursday night.

It had been Dr. Michaels' idea, though Jason had teased it out from idea to fruition. A weekly gathering of promising students, congregating in Michaels' own home for a mature discussion of their writing, literature, music, film...anywhere the conversation led, so long as it was intelligent and interesting. Initially she had only attracted a couple of attendees beyond Jason and Lindsay. These days, it was a passionately vied for club. Yet it remained invitation only, and though wine and beer was served generously to those old enough to partake, any who thought they were attending a party were quickly weeded out.

By nature, the roster was constantly changing, but there was a contingent of regulars that the Doctor adored. Jennifer, who was quite the wit even though she prefaced most of her arguments with Hemingway quotes. Andrew, who was only slightly more Catholic than he was gay. Caleb, who insinuated himself into the kitchen more and more with every meeting, much to Jason's chagrin. Azalea, who had coped with being dumped by Lindsay by remodeling herself as a genuine expert in all things theater. Rose, the chubby beauty who was shamelessly biting at the champ to take over the Editor in Chief position of the campus paper from Jason. Flannery, ever-journaling, who everyone agreed was clearly unhinged but undeniably knew her opera.

Friends, all.

Even good ol' Ted Barlow sometimes sat in on the meetings, usually with his wife, Jenny, who was a genuinely lovely woman, and always understood the kids' esoteric literary puns far better than her husband. Faith Handly, the pretty public speaking professor that Dr. Michaels had bonded with at lunch so long go, was a rare attendee, but a delightful lunch companion who kept Michaels company under the old campus oak most afternoons. They had grown so close, in fact, that Faith had recently confessed to having a short affair with a grad student almost of two years younger than her. The scandal!

Jason found and latched onto Sabrina's arm as she looked out over the dim, cluttered room. He was wearing boxers and a dark tanktop, his shaggy hair pulled back in a fluffy ponytail and still smelling of coconut after all this time. Sabrina handed him her beer for a sip, doing her best to forget that he had only been 21 for a few months.

"We're running out of room," he said, following Sabrina's gaze over the crunch of couches and chairs. "Your salon is the most popular thing to happen to student life since coeducation."

"Ours," Sabrina said, nuzzling the side of her boyfriend's head with her own.

Jason was, publicly, the semi-official cohost of the Thursday meetings. He was always there before anyone else showed up, and usually there after everyone had left, though he sometimes left early to maintain the illusion that he wasn't sleeping over most nights. He did all the cooking (with some help from Caleb), providing a feast of fingerfoods for all, and heartier fare for those who would have it. Tonight had been shrimp cakes, baked brie, stuffed cherry tomatoes, and goat cheese enchiladas.

"Some of them are catching onto us, you know," Jason said. "Judging by Caleb's smirking, he's pieced it together, and Lindsay says that Rose is practically writing fanfiction. Though knowing Lindsay, she's probably the co-author..."

Sabrina grabbed Jason, yanking him into her arms from behind and almost doubled over to give him a rib-cracking squeeze. "Let them talk! It's just gossip. I'll set Lindsay straight tomorrow after her poetry reading, remind her to keep her trap shut."

Sabrina and Jason had made it for an embarrassing short while as a secret couple before Lindsay had walked in on a topless Sabrina straddling Jason in his little apartment. To her credit, the little ditz had kept their secret well, and indeed that embarrassing moment had only cemented Sabrina and Lindsay's friendship.

"God, you're going to another of her readings?" Jason moaned. "I was messed up in the head for a week after the last one."

Lindsay was going through an unfortunate goth phase, black lipstick and all, following the bitter breakup with the latest of her long, long string of lovers. Her writing was suffering as result.

Sabrina shrugged. "She's my best friend."

Jason laughed and twisted around to kiss his girlfriend's chin. "C'mon, Sabrina. It's really late. Let's go to bed."

Sabrina smiled and kissed the boy back, over and over, and followed him back into the bedroom. She changed out of her robe and into a pair of boxers and a T-shirt—Jason's boxers, and Jason's T-shirt, emblazoned with Charmander, her very favorite Pokemon.

Sabrina settled into bed first, as always, with Jason cuddling in under the covers atop her moments later. The boy settled his face in home between Sabrina's breasts. She squeezed his head against her with one hand while caressing his back with the other, kissing his scalp and savoring the hot weight of her beloved kiddo draped over her.

"It's really not so bad, huh?" Jason murmured drowsily against his girlfriend, his teacher, his mentor. "In a few more days, you can finally meet my parents. And in a few months, we can finally stop sneaking around and be open about what we are. Be a normal couple." Jason snorted and snuggled closer Sabrina. "Normal! Ha!"

"Heh!" Sabrina said, her eyes suddenly wide open. "Heh heh..."