Chapter 5

I sat straddling the exercise-machine bench in the gym, a towel draped over my neck, running beads of sweat tickling my back and stomach. Grant sat beside me in a similar pose, with similar towel, similar sweat. He made an almost imperceptible gesture with his head, and spoke, his lips moving only slightly. “That him? The third one in line?”

I responded, my voice low, “Yeah, the carrot-top.”

Grant and I turned our heads slightly toward each other; we didn’t want to be staring at the First Years in the hanging class on the other side of the gym. I didn’t want to make any of them self-conscious, least of all the one I wanted Grant to see. The First Years had only been doing actual hanging for a few days. Being closely scrutinized from across the room by two red-uniformed graduates, famous ones at that, would likely freak them out.

The first student in the class was hanging, doing some frantic kicking as she listened to quiet instructions from Lucas. I whispered back, “I saw him the first day they were in here. It was like...” I allowed myself a small smile. “Like watching you the first time, all over again.”

Grant choked back a laugh and leaned casually on his upraised palm, elbow supported on his thigh. “It’s not that unusual that students come here with some previous hanging experience. You’re kind of the weird one.”

I grinned and gave a slight headshake. “You’ll see what I’m talking about.”

A second student mounted the platform, looking a little shy, still, at being naked at the center of attention of her class—she’d soon get over that. The boy we were watching, the cute red-haired one, jumped up next to her on the platform, with an excited grin on his face, putting the noose around his classmate’s neck and adjusting it, afterwards cuffing the girl’s hands behind her, then jumping back down to the floor again. Grant nodded slightly. The redhead had set the noose very quickly. Lucas had automatically stepped forward to advise him, but nodded and stepped back without comment when he saw the boy had done it exactly right.

While the girl was hanging, Grant asked me, “Are you sure we want to start with a First Year? Melissa and Jana are both really good already, and it wouldn’t take too long to give them some extra training. Jana gets some really great ideas. And they’re both Second Years, so they’ll still be here a long time. I want to get to my hanging before too long.” At present, the Dean’s order given to Grant and me to find worthy replacements as the creative leaders among the younger students weighed heavily on us, the only thing standing in the way of our worked-for and longed-for hangings. Well, except for lead time needed to schedule Grant’s performance

“Honey, there’s nothing wrong with Melissa and Jana, and sure, it makes sense to go with them. And we can start that right away, but I just want to see what you think of this boy first.”

“‘Kay. Look, he’s up.”

I started to turn my head, but remembered not to. Resting my chin in my hand, I threw my shoulders back a couple of times as if working out a slight stiffness, while watching the redhead out of the corner of my eye.

The boy was now on the platform, and it was descending. I sensed the intense focus that only Grant could muster as we both watched.

As the boy’s feet left the platform, he began kicking, and the difference between him and the first two students was obvious to me. His kicking was perfectly synchronized with the movements of his head. This was rare in First Year students

After about fifteen seconds, his kicking took on a new dimension. He lifted his right leg and threw it straight down, forcefully, and during the downstroke lifted his left leg and used it for a similar downward thrust. The entire movement resembled a diver climbing a step before leaping off for a plunge into the water. The momentum created by the move threw his hips forward in a very erotic thrust, while his legs, now both straight, strained downward, their muscles standing taut and quivering. This was similar to Shawna’s classic desperate-to-find-support move, but was not a case of switching, at some point, to Shawna’s move. Rather, the entire sequence of movements was a unified whole, a single smooth dance performed in mid-air.

As the boy’s hips swung back, he smoothly repeated the cycle of movements, and then a third time, before shifting back into more standard kicking.

By the time the boy finished the first cycle, I heard a sharp intake of breath from Grant. Lucas raised the platform as the maximum sixty-second time allowed novices was reached. I immediately turned to look at Grant, but Grant was still staring at the boy, wide-eyed, barely breathing. At last Grant shook his head slightly to clear it, and murmured, “Okay, I’ve never seen that before.”

I laughed. “So I don’t have to explain why I wanted you here?”

Grant laughed as well. “Uhhh, no.”

We sat and stretched for a few minutes, to avoid leaving immediately after the boy’s performance, then Grant finally stood and grinned. “We’d better go get Jana. Think she’s had enough yet?”

I was starting to rise, but dropped back onto the bench, laughing hard. “She’ll never get enough, hon.”

Minutes later, Grant peeked through the door of the cafeteria, then eased himself in. I followed and let the door whisper shut behind me.

The cafeteria was nearly deserted at 3:30, though individual students dropped in throughout the afternoon for snacks. Other than Grant and me, the caf’s only two other occupants at present were Julia, one of the Third Years, and Jana, who was exactly where Grant had left her two hours earlier.

Jana was naked atop one of the tables, her butt up in the air. She was tied so thoroughly that she couldn’t move. She was also blindfolded and gagged. There was a rope around her waist, and from the rope hung a vibrator, with a note on it that said, “Use Me.” Julia, who apparently had been sidetracked in her quest for a snack, was following instructions, understanding immediately, that she was not meant to use it on herself, but on Jana. I could clearly hear the humming of the vibrator as Julia used its tip on Jana’s pussy lips and clit. Through the gag, Jana was huffing high-pitched moans, her leg and buttock muscles clenching, the sweat pouring down her body and mixing with her juices. At last, with a muffled scream, she came; every muscle in her body quivering with tension. At last she relaxed, her throat making soft moans in time with her rapid breathing, the sweat springing out anew.

Julia heard a noise behind her, turned, and saw Grant and me in the room for the first time. She grinned at us, turned off the vibrator and dropped it to let it dangle. She came to the door, chuckled quietly, and said, “I just came in because Sandy told me they had some Purity peaches in here. Turned out they were just regular peaches. He probably doesn’t know the difference. But this was a lot more fun anyway.”

I blinked in surprise. “Purity peaches?” The term brought back a memory I hadn’t thought of in years.

“Yeah, we used to get them for snacks at home. My dad never knew why they called them that. But they were really good.”

Funny you should mention it, I thought. I happen to know where they come from. I was about to start an explanation that would have turned into a longer story than Julia probably wanted, but at that moment Jana, who had probably recognized my voice, began weakly struggling with the ropes again, and mmmmphing against her gag. I grinned at Julia. “We better get her out of that. Talk to you later.”

“Okay.” Julia gave me a smile and departed through the door.

Grant walked over to Jana. In a conversational voice, he said, “Did you have a nice time, sweety?”

Jana stopped wriggling, and sighed. Very softly, she purred, “Mmm-hmm.”

Grant began untying the ropes, while I retrieved a spray bottle of cleaner. After Grant had freed Jana, I wiped down the table’s surface and dried it with a towel. I put the bottle back, then came back over to help Grant support Jana, who was too drained to stand on her own.

As we guided a staggering, still-naked Jana back toward his room, Grant asked, “So how many new friends did you make?”

Jana giggled. Her speech was slightly slurred, her brain fuzzy after two hours of continuous sexual stimulation. I knew that the feeling of being helplessly restrained, and available for anyone’s use as a sexual toy, had kept Jana constantly buzzed even when she’d been alone. “Five. And I came three times. Don’t know if they’re friends now, ‘cause I don’t know who any of them were. Kind of wish I did, now. ‘Specially the one who made me come twice.” She giggled again. “ ‘S funny, none of them went and brought a bunch of people in. Thought I might end up with a big crowd around me. Scared me a little. But they all decided I was ... like their private little game.” Another giggle.

I shook my head, grinning. “Must be something in the psychology of Noosemeisters. We should do a study.”

Grant raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Think we just did, hon.”

In the Second Year hallway, Jasmine came out of her room and stopped suddenly when she saw Jana. “Jana, are you all right? Do you need any help?”

Jana gave her a sideways grin, still leaning on Grant and me. “No, no, I’m okay, Jas, really. Better than okay.” Still another giggle.

Jasmine gave me a seriously puzzled look. Though alcohol and any form of recreational drugs were completely unavailable inside the Academy, Jana looked for all the world as if she’d been on an all-night bender. Jasmine turned to me and asked, “So she’s really okay?”

I grinned at her. “Like she said.”

We had reached the door to Jana’s and Melissa’s room. Jana said to Jasmine, “I’ll tell you about it later. Maybe. Need a little rest now.”

I pushed the door open, and saw Melissa at her desk, studying. She looked up, and smiled as always when she saw me. “Hi ... oh!” She blinked when she saw Jana. Reading Jana’s expression, Melissa said to me, “So ... I should assume she liked it, whatever it was you did?”

I flashed Melissa a special, fond smile. “I think you could say that.”

We were about to ease Jana down to the bed she shared with Melissa, when she suddenly put her arms around Grant. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She kissed Grant, hard.

Grant returned the hug, and stroked Jana’s hair as he kissed her. “Anytime.”

I took one of the chairs in Wendi’s and Lucas’s room. Grant turned to me and said, “So will you do most of the talking? You’re better at that than I am.”

I nodded. “Well, I can start it off, sure. But you need to tell him what you want, and find out how deep his knowledge goes. That’s what you’re better at. Than anybody.”

Grant grinned. “Well, maybe.” He looked at Wendi. “We’re all set, here, if you want to call him now.”

Wendi, one of the two Dorm parents for the First Year class, thumbed a switch on the dorm intercom. Leaning forward, she spoke into the microphone, quietly. “Holden Maitland, could you come to the dorm parents’ room, please?” she sat back and looked at me. “That just went to his room. If he’s not there, I’ll make the call more general.”

I nodded. After no more than sixty seconds, there was a soft tap at the door. Lucas called out, “Come in.”

The door opened, and the boy Grant and I had watched in the gym now poked his face in tentatively. I could see him now for the first time, close up and clothed. He was tall and slender, perfectly proportioned for a Noosemeister, already with the slightly longish neck that all students had after a year or two. The bright white of his First Year uniform made his fair skin seem a little darker, the single color of the fabric contrasting with the dotting of freckles on his skin. Above his anonymous metal “Slave Boy” collar, his reddish-brown hair reminded me of Zeke Hillcrest’s—or rather, of Larry’s hair in Zeke mode. I had never actually met the real Zeke, though it felt as if I had. The hair was longer than Zeke’s, hanging down a couple of inches below the boy’s shoulders, framing a face a little more narrow than Zeke’s, with a straighter nose and very cute, though at the moment it held a frown of concern, as if the boy thought he might be in some trouble.