Training

The sun beat down hard on the courtyard, the center of three immense housing blocks where we, the recruits, had slept. A dense forest surrounded the buildings. Today, we were all there, lined up for this first practice. The uniform left no room for the imagination: a vest marked "MJO" and pants.

My eyes couldn’t help themselves. Everywhere I looked, bouncy buttocks strained the dark fabric of the female recruits. But it was Bya’s ass that drew the most attention—it made me get hard as hell every single time.

Three examiners stood straight in the middle of the courtyard. Silence fell when they announced the formation of groups of twenty.

"The goal of the Magical Justice Organization is order. And order begins with structure. We are going to name three leaders. Each will choose nineteen recruits to form a unit that will remain together for the coming months," said the bearded examiner.

One of the men, who was bald, randomly designated the first leader: a Black woman whose steel gaze looked like it could pierce through concrete.

"I want only women," she said directly and coldly. "A name for your group, recruit?" the examiner asked. "Womencool," she snapped. "We don't need testosterone to shine."

She then looked toward us and the white men, adding: "And above all, we won't have to endure their hungry dog stares every five seconds."

Next, a tall Black guy, broad-shouldered with a nonchalant expression, was designated as leader. He stepped forward with a heavy pace, looking bored by the whole situation.

"You," said the mustachioed examiner. "Your name and your group." "Malik. I’m taking the Black men. We work better among ourselves; we understand each other." The examiner nodded as if mentally noting the answer. "And the name of the group?" Malik shrugged, indifferent. "Group B." "Just 'B'? That’s all you have to propose?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow. "I just had no idea for a name, sir..."

I wasn't surprised. Here, we were taught communism and the priority of the group. Those coming from the same territory as James, however, came from families where individualism prevails; they always looked down on us.

James was the last one named. He stepped forward, adjusting his vest with a natural, practiced arrogance. "Group A. Only whites, because we have more in common." "Why 'A', Mr. Sermord?" the examiner asked.

James sketched a contemptuous smile, throwing a glance toward the leader of Group B. "Because A comes before B."

A heavy silence settled in. Malik clenched his fists, his braids quivering with rage. Behind him, several Black men let out muffled curses.

"Look at him, that son of a bitch," Driss whispered in my ear—an acquaintance of my build with braids. "He already thinks he's above everyone." "He doesn't just think it, Driss," I murmured, my heart beating too fast. "He’s convinced of it."

James didn't even seem to notice the animosity he was creating. Or rather, he relished it. He turned toward the women of the Womencool group, his gaze sliding over them with obscene insistence—especially over Bya’s sexy body while she looked away—before returning to us with that same superior smile.

The groups separated, each heading into the forest. The women isolated themselves in one corner, while James's Group A pointedly moved away from ours. We began the "Quick Step" exercise. The goal: to cover ten meters in one second using magic to hide quickly during missions.

It was hell. I felt the magic burning in my legs, but I only covered five meters at most. Around me, the other men were struggling just as much. Driven by curiosity, I slipped away toward the edge of the forest to observe the women.

Hidden behind the trees, I saw them. It was worse for them. Most didn't exceed three meters and complained that it was too difficult. Then, Bya launched herself. She reached ten meters on the first try, easily. I wasn't impressed; she had experience, after all.

"Bya, you are really good!" Lina exclaimed, jumping with excitement.

I remained pensive. I had always noticed that: the women in my circle were good at theory, but as soon as it was time to use magic concretely, the men seemed better.

After practice, we all met in the cafeteria without the examiners, to eat. The atmosphere shifted when a woman suggested putting on music for a dance duel against another woman. In an instant, the room became electric.

All the men watched the two women shake their asses to the rhythm of the fast music. I saw the envy in the eyes of the other men, both Black and white. I started to get an erection myself; my pants were suddenly becoming too tight. A few minutes later, all the women were dancing, grinding low and shaking their butts. All except Bya, who remained seated, amused by the spectacle. I knew she didn't dance to that kind of vulgar music.

Suddenly, I saw Driss take a deep breath and stand up. With the confidence he often displayed, he approached Lina, who was grooving while shaking her posterior like the other women, much to the delight of all the men.

I wasn't surprised by Driss's behavior: he had been in love with Lina since we had classes together a long time ago. He talked about her like she was a goddess, and I always saw his frustration when other men ogled her. Luckily for him, I knew Lina was a virgin and had never had a boyfriend—surprising, given how many men wanted to fuck her, myself included.

Driss started dancing less than a meter away, facing her. She smiled, seemingly enjoying his presence. I’d be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. Then, Driss changed position. My fists clenched as I saw him move behind her. He put his hands on Lina’s hips and gently pressed her ass against him. Lina immediately pulled away, looking uncomfortable, and went to dance further off.

I smiled. I knew Lina wasn't the "physical" type; she was waiting for a boyfriend for that kind of contact. She knew Driss just wanted to feel her backside grinding against his penis, which was impatient to get acquainted with her bouncy ass. Driss looked embarrassed but kept dancing to hide his shame. The Black men looked at him with pity, while the whites mocked him openly, whispering to each other.

Later, I ran into Driss in the restrooms. He was slumped over, looking miserable. "It’s okay, Driss. It’s just a dance," I said, trying to cheer him up.

Suddenly, a stall door swung open. James stepped out.

He stared at Driss with total contempt. "That was truly pathetic," he said with a sadistic smile. "What did you think would happen? Women like Lina are for men like me."

He dropped his voice into a suave, arrogant tone. "Don't worry, I’ll know how to take good care of her," he said, massaging his penis through his pants.

Driss, filled with rage, lunged at him. But James was too fast. He used a speed magic I had never seen, dodging the blow and striking Driss with brutal precision. Driss collapsed, groaning in pain.

James turned toward me, a predatory smile on his lips. "And you, Jamal? You want a lesson too?" "No," I murmured in a detached tone.

It wasn't in a hand-to-hand duel that I wanted to beat him but through my relationship with Bya.