Chapter 8

The next day, after hours of reading in a new text, Laurel decided to really push, and see how far she could force the shape of a summoned creature. When she cast the spell, instead of the materialization of a furry frog with wings, there was an explosion of vile fluids and viscera. Covered in goo, Laurel checked and rechecked her steps to figure out how it went so wrong. Finally she reviewed her assumptions and checked her summoning circle. It had been sabotaged.

When she opened the door to her bedroom to get her things for a shower, she found Chelle and Ashton sitting on the edge of her bed, naked. Her hand was at work on his package, trying to coax him hard. Laurel had never had romantic designs on Ashton, and yet she was jealous.

“Oh, hey! Glad you’re here!” Chelle said standing up. She towered over her sexual partner. “Can you show me that refractory period spell again? I thought I had it down, but, you know,” she said, gesturing at Ashton’s dick.

Laurel didn’t respond - she just dug in the closet for her robe and picked up her shower basket.

“And when are we going to get to that birth control spell?” Chelle continued. “It should be one of my safe days, but you can never be too careful.”

Laurel sighed and yanked at Ashton’s mystical energies, turning her hands indelicately to help retune his body. Immediately blood began to flow into Ashton’s dick once again. Laurel picked up her things again and dashed out.

“Thanks!” Chelle said apologetically before the door closed.

Laurel deliberately took a long shower, but when she returned to her room, the short man was between the tall woman’s legs, pumping away. Laurel left again after throwing her gut-stained clothes in the hamper.

After dinner, Laurel psyched herself up to confront Summer. She would apologize and reset their relationship - put an end to the animosity.

“Um, Summer, I was hoping I could talk to you,” Laurel said uncertainly.

“What was that?” Summer said impatiently.

“I wanted to apologize...”

“What was that? Speak up!”

“I wanted to say I’m...”

“God, speak clearly!” Summer erupted, stepping into Laurel’s personal space. “I can’t stand this mewling! If you’ve got something to say, say it. To my face. Be a woman!”

Summer’s scorn just made Laurel softer and less sure of herself. She backed away. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I...”

Summer talked over her again. “Do you not realize how disrespectful you’re being right now? Putting the burden on me for your inept communication? Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?”

Laurel had retreated as Summer ranted, now finding herself curled up in a ball on a dining room chair with Summer standing over her. She looked to Jennifer for help but her teacher watched the scene dispassionately.

Theo put a hand on Summer’s shoulder. Summer spun, knocking his hand away and she pointed a finger in his face. “Jiujitsu black belt, mother fucker,” she warned him before walking away.

Despite her mood, Laurel taught another sex magic class: the others were just too excited, and engaging her academic brain helped Laurel forget about her humiliation. In order to practice, everyone stripped down to their underwear in Chelle and Laurel’s bedroom. There was, necessarily, touching of all sorts, to help identify various body mechanisms. Touching Theo’s abs made Laurel weak in the knees. Feeling his body-energy’s sexual dynamics made her hurt with how badly she wanted him.

The lesson ended when Ashton pulled Chelle on top of him on her bed. It was obvious that their desire exceeded their modesty, and that anyone who stuck around would get a show.

Theo put his arm around Laurel. “Grab your things. You can sleep in my room tonight.”

Laurel wrapped herself up in a cocoon of blankets on the unused bed in Theo’s room, staring at him. He picked up a guitar from a corner of the room and began playing a gentle melody, still in his underwear. She watched, rapt, until he finished his song.

“Do you think, maybe, if I tuned my glamour to look more like a boy...?” Laurel wondered. Theo flashed her understanding eyes and shook his head. “I’m really good with glamours,” Laurel tried again.

“No,” Theo answered. He put the guitar away. “But if I were straight, you’d be my girl.” He shut off the light and climbed into bed. Laurel listened to him breath while he fell asleep. Feeling lonely and still not quite tired, she silenced her phone and, under her covers, watched videos of animals mating.

That night, Laurel dreamed she was back at college. She went to classes, ran into people in the library, had lunch at the student union. But every time she tried to speak, instead of words coming out, she bleated like a goat, and people ignored her.