Tyballa
Copyright© 2010 by BadFred
Chapter 11: A Different Kind of Learning
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 11: A Different Kind of Learning - Cast down, banished to Earth for one human lifetime of servitude, a fairy princess finds herself at the Turnhill Academy for Girls. There she makes friends so sweet and pretty they melt her frozen heart. But she also learns a hard lesson: schoolgirls can be just as cruel as the cruelest fairy queen, and to love who she wants, she must foil the meanest girl at school.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including ft/ft Fa/ft Mult Reluctant Coercion Magic Lesbian Fiction Paranormal Humiliation Oral Sex Anal Sex Petting Teacher/Student Slow Caution Violence School
Chloe's aunt lived along a narrow, red-bricked street in a red-bricked building stacked six stories high. Next to the building, a narrow alley wound under an arch back to a small parking lot. Chloe pulled Brandon's car into the alley, slowly, almost scraping the paint, and on into the lot. The car was too large to fit in any of the free spaces, so we had to block another car.
"We'll leave a note," Chloe said, and she did, scribbling down her aunt's apartment number and leaving it on the windshield.
"The back door is always locked," she said, so we walked out along the covered alley to the narrow street and along the front of her aunt's building. Then we climbed flagstone steps to a stout wooden door. Next to the door, a metal plate with a row of numbered buttons was set in the wall. Chloe pressed one of the buttons.
"I hope she's home," she said.
Moments later, a voice came from a speaker. It was a woman's voice with a deep resonance that even the tiny speaker couldn't hide.
"Hey Chloe, why don't you and Tyballa come up," the voice said.
The door buzzed, and Chloe pulled it open.
"How did your aunt know my name?"
Chloe just smiled. We entered and climbed the stairs.
Her aunt lived on the fifth floor, and Chloe was huffing by the time we got up. "I wish they'd get an elevator," she said.
There were two doors on either side of the landing, one labeled "5A", the other "5B". Chloe headed toward 5A, and before she even knocked, the door opened revealing a woman.
Her hair was blond, long, and darker than her niece's. Her skin was soft brown with a scatter of freckles, and while she hadn't the lean, hard muscles of youth, her body had a certain softness. I could see so much lovely flesh. Her shorts were yellow and cut high up her thighs. Her blouse was sheer white cotton and only buttoned halfway. It did little to hide her breasts. She had Chloe's deep brown eyes. But the wide, welcoming smile was her own.
As Chloe stepped aside, I came forward and got my first long look at her. She got her first long look at me.
"Come in, dears," she said, and when I entered, she laid her hand on my brow and kissed my cheek. "Please close the door, Chloe."
Chloe closed the door. Her aunt led me down the hall by the hand and began a slow chant of soft words – so kind and lilting – from an ancient tongue that reminded me of deep forests with clean, flowing streams. I felt tingles and soft touches, and lingering magic – like no magic I'd felt before.
"Come sit with me."
I sat with her on an old couch with a floral design. Opposite us, Chloe plopped down on a chair with the same well-worn upholstery. Her aunt kept her hands on me.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"Lana," she said, scooting close to me, her hands resting on my shoulders.
"Hello, Lana."
"Hi Tyballa. So, you got mixed up with Woodhouse?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry. If we'd known you'd come, we'd have helped. At least we'd have warned you."
"Oh? Who's we?" I squished back into the soft couch and curled up my legs. She turned to me. Her breasts seemed very close.
"We witches. For Tyballa, I know who you are, and the Summer Queen is well known to us. We bear her little love. You will find friends among us, dear."
She put her arm around me. I pushed down my skirt and rested my hands on my knees. I wanted to trust her. I wanted to more than trust her, but I knew so little about witches other than strange, morbid tales. All the magicians I knew were men who wove twisted spells filled with malice. And of course the queen.
Were witches something different?
I think she sensed my hesitation. She took my hand. She waited, holding and caressing it, until I became calm. Then she said with a soothing voice, "Tyballa, I want to cast a deeper spell on you, like the one I just cast, but this will probe far, and I'll be able to see your full memory, about Mr. Woodhouse, and your blood, and the spells that you read. May I do this?"
I wondered about the spell that she'd just cast, and how much she knew already?
"Will it hurt?"
"No, dear, it will be very pleasant."
She kissed me on the cheek. Chloe leaned back in her chair and watched us.
"Yes. You may cast the spell."
Her smile deepened and she gave me more kisses.
"Follow me."
I followed her to another room with a parquet floor and no furniture. On the floor, taking up most of the space, was a five pointed star inscribed in white paint. At each point of the star, and at each place where the lines crossed, sat an unlit candle, ten in total.
"Please lie in the center of the pentagram, Tyballa, while Chloe and I light the candles."
I did. And they did. And when the candles were lit, Lana knelt next to me and rested her hand on my brow.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
She began a slow chant, and her mind touched my mind. Relaxing, surrendering, I let it in. Drifting. Pleasant tingles. It was much like a climax, but softer, lingering more. She was so beautiful. Then something changed. The room disappeared. I floated in a cloudy haze and relived my horrible time with Mr. Woodhouse, but it was like seeing another girl, a girl who was loved and watched. No harm would come to her. Her blood was drained, but she recovered. Then she escaped. She took down the men. Then she was in the workroom. She sat and slowly read the terrible spells – but this time I knew their full measure and all the darkness they contained. Like a tiny dull pain, I felt his malice and craving, and his boundless fear of death. Then I was with Renee in her room. Her slow breath passing through pursed lips. I had such little hope for her. That made me sad.
Renee faded away. Again I was in my own body, my own flesh barely dressed. Lana curled next to me one one elbow and gazed at me. Her blouse hung open revealing a dark nipple on a freckled breast. Chloe leaned against the wall and watched us.
"You still bear much love for Renee Woodhouse," Lana said, as if stating a fact.
"I do."
Her voice turned serious. "Renee is not someone we care for."
"Oh?"
We both sat up. She reached and took my hands.
"Tyballa, Renee has caused a lot of harm. There is a sickness in her, an anger, a deep selfishness. We tried to deal with her a few years back when she first came to the Turnhill Academy. We tried to – well – help her see the right path, but she strayed."
I let go of her hands. "You shouldn't talk about my friend that way." But the words sounded false when I said them.
She stood up. Then, as if she hadn't heard me, she went on, "I blame her dark Woodhouse heart. An evil spirit follows that bloodline. Tyballa, loyalty is admirable, but be careful. Renee is a cruel, petty girl who demands too much."
I looked away, but I felt the truth of her words, the truth of Renee and how she treated people.
"Things are bad without her," I said.
"How so?"
"Renee protected us. I mean – she understands about girls who hate lesbians, and the teachers, and how to stay on top of them."
"And how does she protect you, Tyballa? Through fear or love?"
Fear, of course, but how does one protect through love?
I looked up at her. "Fear. People are afraid of her, but she loves too – very much."
"She uses her magic, yes?"
"Yes. Well – her father's magic, I guess."
"Well, Tyballa, you girls indeed need protection, and a little fear can be quite useful, when used with wisdom." She paused, as if deciding how to continue. "Tyballa, you must learn some magic, and you must take Renee's place."
I sat up, surprised.
"Me? How could I... ? I haven't Renee's power, nor her cunning."
She squatted and again took my hands. "We can help you with the power. I can give you the magic you need. A few simple spell are usually enough to make the difference."
"And the cunning?"
"That's up to you, dear, but – well – you're not without resources. Chloe will assist" – she turned to her niece – "for I think you two are now close."
Chloe looked uncomfortable. Lana was very close. I rose onto my knees.
"She says she'll only kiss me," I whispered.
"Kissing is enough," Lana said, and as if to prove it she kissed me. Chloe shifted her feet, but kept watching.
"Does this sound good?"
It sounded amazing, and frightening. But still... If I could learn magic ... If I could learn magic everything would be better.
"Yes," I said, "Yes, very much."
Then, to stop the warning in my heart, I added, "But I won't give up on Renee, not completely."
"That's fine, dear. We won't ask you to abandon your loyalty, nor your love." She smiled. "Now, how would you like to learn your first spell?"
"I'd like that very much."
"Good."
She still held my hands and her blouse still hung loose. I pulled her toward me. "But first ... can we fuck?"
Her eyes got wide.
"Yes, dear, we can do that."
I parted the front of her blouse and began licking her breasts.
"Oh darling ... Mmmm ... That's enough," Lana said.
By then we'd moved to the couch. She was leaning back with her legs parted, no shorts, no panties. Her blouse hung unbuttoned. Between her legs, I knelt and rubbed my breasts up and down over her pussy, smearing its creamy fluid over my nipples, my cami was longs since cast aside. Then sitting back, I brought my own breasts to my mouth and licked them. She must have found that sexy, for she gave me a wicked grin. I leaning forward and licked her pussy again.
"Oh! Please! I really can't take anymore."
She pushed my head back and closed her legs. I considered fighting her, forcing my way back in to that delightful place, for I hadn't had enough and wanted to keep eating her, but I let her push me. I stumbled back a bit. I thrust out my hand to keep from falling.
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