Chapter 43
by 
Lalelilo69
Shit. I wonder if craft repairs cars...
FAIL
John cast craft and focused on repairing the bumper.
Repair failed. Craft level 3 required.
“Shit.”
He shrugged and got into the car.
“Come on, Calista.”
She eyed the car suspiciously, then walked over to the passenger side, opened the door, and got in. John smiled at her hesitation.
“What’s wrong? Don’t trust my driving? I don’t blame you.”
He chuckled as she struggled for something to say, then kept driving to his new dorm.
Layla walked home on cloud nine, her smile never wavering.
We’re going to be together, together forever. We’re going to be together, together forever. We’re going to be together, together forever…
The same thought cycled in her mind the whole way back to her dorm. She glided through the door, not noticing the empty boxes sitting outside that meant her new roommate had moved in already. She closed the door and walked into her room in a state of euphoria, noticing neither the girl with headphones sitting on the couch nor the now open door to the bedroom across from hers. The bedroom had been fairly plain, only containing a bed and a dresser. Now a few posters hung on the walls, and a desk with a laptop on it had been placed across from the dresser. Layla closed her door behind her, ready to spend another evening alone with her fantasies of the Elementalist.
THUMP. THUMP THUMP. ZZZCLACK THUMP.
Liz’s electric blue eyes bored into the punching bag in front of her. She wore a black sports bra that compressed her already considerably small chest, along with a pair of purple skin tight short shorts. She held her fists in front of her face, as if to defend from any punches the bag could throw at her. Her left fist was cloaked in a web of electricity, her right in a golden radiance. She growled and unleashed a flurry of blows, alternating between the electric crackles of her left hand and the solid thump of her right hand. Her breathing became more labored as time went on, but her was relentless.
John parked his car in front of the apartment building that would be his home for most likely the next four years, then walked to the trunk and was about to open it when an idea hit him. He smiled and cast observe. An inventory interface materialized in the air in front of him, showing the three bags inside along with the spare tire, jack and lug wrench. He grinned and pulled the bags straight out of the trunk’s interface and onto his personal inventory interface. Calista was leaning against the car when John walked by her and slipped his hand into hers, pulling her towards the building Sera had described to him. His dorm apartment was on the top floor, easily accessible through the fire escape. He walked into the elevator with Calista and looked at her. She was smiling coyly. He smiled back at her, hoping that she was thinking what he was thinking.
She slipped her hand out of his and wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head up to his. He met her lips and they kissed, deeply and passionately. She tasted of pomegranates, which surprised John. They continued their embrace in bliss, their tongues dancing in each other’s mouths until the elevator reached their floor with a soft ding!. John opened an eye lazily, slightly aware that there might have been someone waiting for the elevator. There was. A student by the looks of it, a guy with black hair and a baseball bat rested over his shoulder. He smirked at John and gave him a thumbs up, then walked away.
Weird.
John gently disengaged from the kiss and led Calista down the hall. He looked at all the doors, looking for Sera’s sigil. It was on the second to last door on the left. John reached above the lintel and felt for the spare key that Sera had said would be there. He found it and opened the door to his new home. There was a living room complete with a small sofa, coffee table, and entertainment center directly to John’s left when he walked in. To his right was a small dining room, though some would call it a breakfast nook. It featured a small dining table and two chairs. Walking forward, the kitchen was separated from the dining room by a bar. Across from the kitchen and adjacent to the living room was a bedroom. Farther in was a bathroom on the right and a small laundry room on the left. At the end of the small hallway that ran along the center of the apartment was a window that led out to the fire escape.
John led Calista to the bedroom, where a bed and a desk were the only pieces of furniture. John pushed Calista onto the bed, resuming their kiss from earlier.
A Cadillac rolled silently over a slate gray bricked driveway. As is slid to a stop, the passenger’s side door opened and a man rushed out to open the back-seat door. The car was parked in front of a humble estate, whose front door was protected by a roman columned porte-cochère. The main building rose two stories high, and boasted a view of a private lake surrounded by cliffs.
Natalya Ankov stepped out of the car, followed by her two daughters Julie and Albina. They strode into the mansion and through its lavish halls. Natalya walked into a study where four men waited for her. They were identical to each other, the only distinguishable features being their different colored tricivara. They stood with their backs to her, looking out of large bay windows that overlooked the acres upon acres of land owned by the Ankov family. She cleared her throat as she reached the desk in the center of the study, and they turned to face her.
“Status report,” she demanded.
“The students are learning as quickly as we can push them. If we attempt to teach more than they can learn, we risk them not learning at all,” said the man farthest to the left.
“The armory is filling at an acceptable rate, and the variety of weapons and armor is exemplary,” said the one next to him.
“The gangs are relatively at peace with each other, deciding to deal with the newest threat together rather than fight each other. It is admirable, but can only last so long. Once they obliterate him they will be squabbling at each other’s necks soon enough.”
The one farthest to the right didn’t speak immediately. He took a deep breath before saying:
“I fear they will not be able to obliterate him as easily as you believe. We have all seen for ourselves the immense natural talent the boy has. He may gather a following of his own and then strike back at the gangs.”
Then Natalya spoke.
“What of it? As long as he doesn’t interfere with the training of the other students, our plans go unmolested. The competition may even drive the students to train harder.”
It was the man farthest to the left who answered Natalya.
“The purpose of the gangs is to drive the students to train harder, there is no need for this boy’s interference. It was unwise of you to offer him admission.”
“Whether it was wise or not is not the issue here. The boy is of little consequence. Our ambitions are too large for him to comprehend, our plans too multifaceted for him to discover fully, and our resources too plentiful for him to render useless. He is not a threat.”
“Your mind is clouded by your pride. We will not have years of preparation go to waste. For now, the students will be ready when they will need to be. If the situation changes, and the boy is at fault, we will not hesitate to withdraw our support from you.”
Natalya frowned.
“Very well. Now, what funds must we allocate to…”
Calista’s moans reverberated through the apartment. She was on her hands and knees on the edge of the bed, John standing behind her. He slammed into her tight pussy as it hugged his dick, her juices dripping onto the floor. He had his hands on her wide hips, which had been hidden well by her chiton and Firesmith Academy skirt. His every impact sent ripples across her shapely ass. Her moans grew ever more frantic, what were once loving whispers of his name were now nonsensical cries of immense pleasure.
Tricia Gorbachev, the Golden Rose’s healer, watched disinterestedly as the young man who both saved and nearly killed the Warden squatted and stared at the damage to his car. Her drones beeped at her as they crossed the street and opened the door to an empty shop. She followed them, dragging her medical equipment behind her. The drones had laid Moira on four tables they had dragged together to create a makeshift operating table. She heard the roar of an engine starting up and then driving away.
Good. He heeded my advice.
She tapped a button on her equipment case and different holographic displays booted up as the drones began undressing the maimed paladin. She was left wearing only a pair of steel panties, made long ago to protect the honor of the Wardens. Tricia tsked at the primitive magical technology.
My suit does a much better job.
She glanced at Moira’s ample chest.
Though it would need major adjustments.
She looked back at her holograms and started working on healing Moira.
Calista bounced up and down in John’s lap, her eyes screwed shut in pleasure. John was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands on Calista’s hips as she rode him. Squelching sounds could be heard across the room, and her guttural moans filled the apartment. John’s eyes were closed as well. Calista’s pussy clenched around his dick in a near continuous orgasmic state. He hadn’t felt this way since Omorfia had woken from her coma. He groaned as he held Calista down, cumming deep inside of her for the second time that afternoon.
After two hours of Tricia tapping away at her screens, Moira’s eyes fluttered open. Her first reaction was confusion, as was expected. Then came the horrifying realization that she was nearly naked, blood rushing to her face and chest. Then came the even more horrifying realization that she was nearly naked in a nearly public place, which brought with it a frantic and mostly futile attempt at covering her chest with her arms.
Tricia’s mouth twitched in the semblance of a smile.
Emotions make people weak. I must continue to work to suppress mine.
“By the Lady, Tricia! Surely I could have survived the few minutes it would have taken to bring me farther into the building!”
She was practically sputtering in embarrassment. Tricia’s drones attempted to hand Moira her clothes, but she was too busy floundering for more things to say to notice.
“You seem stressed. When was the last time you reached orgasm?”
This question effectively snapped Moira’s mouth closed. Her face turned a deeper shade of red, almost matching her hair.
“Why I would never!”
“You admitted to it while you were delirious last time I had to heal you. Minor Lich, I believe it was.”
Moira’s eyes bulged from indignation at Tricia’s accusations.
“I was delirious! Surely you can’t give any statements I said in such a state any credit?”
“I can and I will. I repeat my question: when was the last time you reached orgasm. All of this stress is no good for your immune system.”
John laid on his back, Calista’s pussy dripping onto his face. He reached out with his tongue, teasing her clit, and felt her moan around his dick. She was laying on top of him, slowly and sensuously giving him a blowjob. He increased the pressure, licking frantically all around her clit as well. He was rewarded with pleasurable vibrations all along his length, bringing him very close to the edge for what would be the third time that day. He dove as deep as he could reach with his tongue, exploring every fold of skin available to him. Calista came up for air and moaned, a throaty, passionate, moan. She began to kiss and lick along the sides of his member, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He came again, getting jizz all over Calista’s face and hair.
“I am not stressed! You only see me agitated because of the situation you have put me in.”
“Which one? The fact that you were texting and driving? The fact that you got hit by a mage driving a car? The fact that you let him get away with neither a briefing nor an interrogation?”
“None of those! The fact that you have seen it fit to operate on my indecently exposed body in a public area! The dishonor it would bring the Lady if any were to walk by and see the lewd scene you created! I cannot imagine!”
“You need to destress.”
Tricia’s voice was still clinically unemotional. It had the persuasiveness of a trained professional that stated the facts and only the facts.
I need to destress as well. Now would be the time I usually afforded myself a bit of release. If we were to destress together, it would save both of us time.
Moira looked, impossibly enough, even more horrified at what Tricia was implying.
“HERE?”
“The streets are guaranteed to be empty for at least another hour. This restaurant doesn’t open at all today. My drones can clean up any trace of evidence that we were ever here. If you wish, you can walk to your home and destress there, but I doubt you will be as successful. I am proficient in more techniques than you most likely know exist.”
Moira’s breathing was labored. She seemed to be grappling with herself internally over whether to accept Tricia’s offer or not.
John and Calista stood under the shower together. John was still hard, but Calista was exhausted. He rubbed her up and down with soap, making sure to pay special attention to the areas that he knew had to be absolutely clean. She gasped and purred as he washed her, the warm water coupled with his caresses magnifying the afterglow. She turned around and began to wash him, her slippery hands rubbing all over his body.
Moira slowly began to nod. Then shook her head violently.
“Not here. We can’t. Not here. At least let’s move farther into the building. I don’t want to see the windows.”
“Very well. My drones will notify us if anything is amiss.”
Tricia walked towards the counter where transactions were made. The floor behind it was clear and clean, but she sent a drone to sanitize it just in case.
“Here. We won’t be seen behind here.”
Moira looked at Tricia with a pitiable longing in her eyes, then produced a key from somewhere in her clothes and unlocked the chastity belt.
