Magic Student
I suppose you could say I was almost a squib.
That’s what they called me, after the Harry Potter books came out. It wasn’t entirely true—I had enough magic to count as a magician—but I was easily the weakest student in the class. I could turn you, my powerless reader, into a toad, yet there was almost nothing I could do to my fellow classmates. Their slightest protections were more than enough to keep my spells from affecting them. It was lucky I had a gift for making the best use of the little magic available to me. I was still surprised I haven’t been told to leave the school.
It was not an easy life. My fellow students practiced their charms, hexes, and curses on me all the time. There was no point in complaining. The rules of magical society are very simple. If you have the strength to do something, you can do it. I spent most of my childhood being humiliated in one way or another, from being turned into animals or objects to being hypnotised into making an utter fool of myself. It didn’t get any better when I turned eighteen and me and my peers went to college, the third and final stage in magical education. I had thought school was bad. College was worse.
There was nothing sexual in the first and second stages of education. The third seemed to be nothing but sex. (I’m sure we did lessons at some point, but it was hard to notice.) We were adults now and we had to sort out the alliances, from the romantic to the coldly practical, that would dominate the rest of our lives. It was not remotely safe to have nothing to offer. I, a young man with very little magic, had nothing. And I suffered for it.
It was bad enough having compulsion spells cast on me that made me take cocks into my mouth and suck them until they came. It was worse to be hypnotised into thinking it was what I wanted, to be worshipping a cock until the spellcaster came and I realised—in horror—that he had used a spell to fuck with my mind. And even worse … I was forced to drop my pants, bend over, and take a cock up my backside. I lost count of the number of boys who took sexual advantage of me. No one did anything to stop them. Why should they? I was weak and they were strong and that was all that mattered.
The girls didn’t pick on me. They didn’t have to. They had plenty of partners and very few of them would willingly let a near-powerless man like myself inside her. The risk of carrying a weakling child was too great, even though contraceptive spells were easy to cast. I hated that to. I liked girls, and I wanted to have sex with them, but witches had no interest in me.
And my time was running out. First-rank magicians, powerful or well-connected enough to write their own tickets, could do whatever they liked. Second-rank magicians were powerful enough to make a deal with the first-rankers, trading protection for service. Third-rank magicians like me had nothing to bargain with. We weren’t allowed to step back into the mundane world and use what powers we had for our own advantage. We were turned into servants, perhaps even permanently enslaved through magic. I had been told by quite a few boys, the ones who had enjoyed my mouth or my arse, that they would be buying my contract after I had been enslaved. It was a terrifying thought. I had some freedom at college. Once they put the slave collar on, I would have none at all. It was a fate I would do anything to escape.
But how?
There was no way to hide from the Magic Council. They might not care about me personally, or anyone else like me, but they would not want to risk exposing magic by letting me go. If I tried to run, I would be enslaved on the spot or permanently turned into a toad. Or something. I had heard enough horror stories about people who try to run to know it was impossible. The council did not let anyone go.
My desperation grew worse as time flowed by, heading towards graduation. I hunted for a job offer that I could do, but there were none. Not for me. I tried to look for someone who might prove a tolerable master, yet such paragons of decency were vanishingly rare in the magical world. I even tried to memorise ways to escape, to fake my own death, but none of them seemed likely to work. The best idea I had was trying to convince the headmaster to take me as a general dogsbody, one of the staffers who kept the college going. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had.
I was on my way to the headmaster’s office when I stepped into the antechamber and saw her.
It was no exaggeration to say that Hayley was the queen of the school. Hayley was tall, blonde, beautiful beyond words and powerful enough to dominate nearly every one of her classmates. The few who could stand up to her, in magic, were cowed by her family. Hayley’s father was right at the top of the tree, a de facto feudal lord ruling over a network of relatives, clients, and others who owed him fealty. No one had any doubt that Hayley would take his place. She had the power as well as the family collections. And she had no qualms about using it.
I had asked her out once, a couple of years ago, and she had turned me into a slug. The spell had been so powerful it lasted over a week. Biff Kentwood had, if the stories were true, groped her bottom and been turned into a pair of panties. He was never quite the same afterwards. Chad Rollins had done something to her—I didn’t know what—and what she had done in return had broken him. He was one of the very few students to leave education before graduation, and it was because of what she done to him. I don’t know what, but the lesson had been very clear. No one was going to get into her panties unless she wished it. She was so high and mighty that her consort would be chosen by her family, and cautioned that she would always be in charge. I didn’t know if I should feel sorry for the poor bugger or envious. The man who married Hayley would be set up for life.
And now …
She was facing the wall, her hands on her head, her skirt pinned to her jumper and her panties pulled down to her knees. I stared, drinking in the sight even though I knew she would kill me—or worse—if she realised I was there. Her bottom looked good in skirts and trousers, but bare it was absolutely heavenly. I couldn’t my gaze away from her curves and her perfect legs. I knew, too, what she was waiting for. The headmaster was going to cane her bottom. I wondered, numbly, just what teacher had had the nerve to send her for corporal punishment. If she bore a grudge, that teacher was doomed. And she would. I’d felt a teacher’s cane over my jeans and it had been agonising. The marks had taken nearly a week to fade. I didn’t want to think about what would be like to take a caning on the bare bottom. Hayley was in for a world of hurt.
A thought crossed my mind. Did I dare …?
I couldn’t do normal painkilling spells. No one had offered to cast one for me after my caning. They’d been too busy laughing every time I winced when I sat down. I had had to come up with something of my own, a spell so low power that it was almost undetectable. I had never tested it, not properly. I hadn’t dared provoke a teacher to cane me again. And if I offered the spell to Hayley …
A second thought crossed my mind. If I was very careful …
I cleared my throat, before I could think better of it. Hayley jumped and twisted her head so she could see me without moving too openly. She was utterly gorgeous beyond words, even when she was clearly so angry that the wrong word would get me turned into all hopping thing or worse. I kept my eyes on hers, not daring to hint that I might’ve been eyeing
her bottom. There were boys who cast spells to strip girls. The girls had no hesitation in cursing them in return.
“Go fuck yourself,” Hayley snarled. A tiny flicker of compulsion magic wove in and out of her voice. My hands dropped to my cock before I could catch myself. I was proud of myself for resisting, even though I knew she could knock my resistance aside at any moment. “What the fuck do you want?”
“You’re waiting to be caned,” I said. The look on her face convinced me to get to the point as quickly as possible. “You won’t be sitting down comfortably for a week or two. The headmaster curses his canes to make painkilling spells ineffective.”
Hayley glared. She had never been caned before. She was too well-connected to be punished for anything, unless it was very severe, and I doubted her parents had any fondness for corporal punishment. She didn’t know I wasn’t being entirely honest. How could she?
“What do you want?” Her voice hardened. “Or do you want me to turn you into a slug again?”
I tried not to flinch. I had wondered if she had forgotten me. I was nothing to her. Clearly, she remembered something. I hoped it was how easily she had turned me into a slug. The more she underestimated me, the better.
“I have an offer,” I said. “I know a spell that will make the caning completely painless.”
Hayley snorted. “Let me guess. You’re going to give it to me out of the kindness of your heart.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll trade. I cast a spell on you; you have sex with me.”
She made a sputtering sound. “Me? Have sex with you?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you want to have sex with me or do you want everyone laughing at you when you sit down for the next week or so?”
Hayley said nothing for a long cold moment. I couldn’t read her thoughts—that sort of magic was well beyond me, like so many others—but I guess what she was thinking. Getting caned would be bad enough for anyone, yet for someone like her it would be a great deal worse. She had rivals who would laugh at her, and her family’s enemies would try to use the story to undermine her position. The mere fact that Hayley, heir to her father’s patronage network, in had to bare her bottom and bend over for the cane would be bad enough. If she proved she couldn’t take it, who knew where it would end?
“I don’t let inferiors inside me,” she said. I wondered, idly, if she had let anyone inside her. I haven’t heard any rumours that suggested she had opened her legs to anyone. “But … What are you offering?”
“I can make it painless,” I said. “You just have to scream on cue.”
Her face twisted again. I wondered if the disgust of doing anything sexual with me of stronger than her fear of the cane, and the consequences of being caned so publicly. I was practically powerless, certainly when compared to her. Had I overplayed my hand? Or …
“I won’t have sex with you,” Hayley said. “But I’ll give you a blow job. If your spell works …”
I felt a thrill of anticipation. I had given enough blow jobs in my life, but no one had given one to me. If Hayley did it …
“I have to touch your bottom,” I said. “The spell should be unnoticeable as long as you don’t draw attention to it.”
Hayley looked quietly furious. I have been groped enough to know it wasn’t fun even if it was in a good cause. She bent slightly, thrusting her bottom towards me. I touched her bare skin, the sensation almost overwhelming me—my cock was suddenly achingly hard—but was no time to enjoy it even if she had let me. I muttered the spell, the tiny pieces of magic blurring into her skin and passing beyond my ken. I prayed with all my heart and soul the spell worked. If Hayley thought I’d tricked her, she’d kill me. Literally.
“Done,” I said. “Look me up afterwards …”
“No.” Hayley met my eyes. There was no time to dodge the spell. My willpower melted like snow in hell. “You are in my thrall.”
My body moved of its own accord. I couldn’t muster a single thought as I found myself turning and marching through the door, along the corridors and up the stairs to the dorms and suites reserved for the wealthy and powerful. No one tried to stop me. They could all tell I was in thrall, under the command of someone powerful enough to punish them if they tried. I heard snickers following me as I walked. Bastards. Being in thrall was always funny until it happened to you.
I couldn’t resist as my body marched through a door, closing it behind me, and turned and sank to its knees. I caught glimpses of a feminine bedroom and knew, beyond all doubt, that she had sent me straight to her room. I prayed, again, that everything went according to plan. If it didn’t … No one would say anything to her if she killed me, or permanently transformed me, or even took me as her personal slave. Not that that was going to happen. People were lining up to serve her and her family. She wouldn’t want someone like me, when she could have someone with enough power to serve her properly. No enslaved powerless for someone like her.
I waited. The spell didn’t let me go. I could move my eyes, but nothing else, and it didn’t take long for me to get bored of noticing a bra hanging from the door or a handful of other details, some of which would be more exciting if I hadn’t been waiting on the brink of apotheosis or nemesis. I knew boys would pay good money to know what was wearing under her shirt but they wouldn’t pay me—they just take what I knew and then leave me holding the bag. My body started to ache, but nothing happened. It was an incredible relief when she ran into the room and closed the door behind her, breaking down into giggles the moment she was alone. The way she was rubbing her behind was proof the spell had worked. She was clearly not in agony.
“It worked,” she said. “You’re a genius!”
I would have smiled, if her spell had let me. She lifted her skirt, pulled down her panties, and showed me her bare bum. The caning had left nasty marks, but she was clearly not in agony. I hoped she had had the sense to make a terrible fuss, when the cane touched her bare skin. The headmaster might have been suspicious if she hadn’t. I’d knew from grim experience that being caned, even over the jeans, was incredibly painful.
She snapped her fingers at me. “Release.”
I staggered and nearly fell as her spell let me go. “I told you it would work,” I said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“I guess you do,” Hayley said. She pulled her panties back into place, then smoothed down her skirt. I couldn’t help noticing her nipples were hard. I guessed being caned could be a little exciting if you weren’t going to be in agony. “Now, get your trousers and pants down.”
I did as I was told. My cock was already so hard it was almost painful. I hadn’t been so hard since a particularly unpleasant student had hit me with an hard-on charm in the middle of class. Hayley knelt in front of me, a faint smile crossing her face as she gripped my buttocks and ran her hands up and down my legs. I was surprised. Most female magicians dislike the symbolism of giving blowjobs. They have to be compelled to do it and I, of course, could never compel anyone to do anything. Hayley kissed the top of my cock, then opened her mouth and took me inside her. I gasped in pure pleasure. I had given many blowjobs myself, never willingly, but I never been on the other side. No one had ever gone down on me until now. She pulled back a little, her tongue licking up and down my tip, and took me back inside her. I almost lost it right there and then.
She didn’t stop. She took me as deep as she could, then let me go and licked my shaft and my balls. I was nearly lost in pleasure as her fingers slipped between my buttocks and stroked my anus, one finger threatening to slip inside me. I forgot myself, my hands reaching down and into her blouse to stroke her breasts. It felt like touching heaven. She seemed to hesitate, then snapped her fingers. My hands snapped back of their own accord, then slapped my bottom hard. Very hard. She made me spank myself as hard as I could.
“This is payment,” she growled. “After this is done …”
My hands settled on my head and stuck there. I swallowed hard as she returned her attention to the job at hand, taking my cock back into her mouth. Any qualms I had had about my plan vanished. I didn’t know what she would do to me, after I had touched her like that, but I knew it could easily be fatal. Or worse than fatal. There was an entire pond of powerless who had stumbled into the college grounds, been used as test subjects for particularly nasty spells, and then permanently transfigured into toads. Hayley could do that to me, if she wished, and no one would stop her. A transfigured powerless would eventually forget that he had once been a man. A transfigured magician never would.
I gathered my power, my tiny magic, and braced myself as her fingers explored my crack. I felt as if I was going to explode in her mouth. Hayley seemed lost in her own pleasure as she gave me pleasure, although I knew better than to think she would let me go after everything. The pleasure built and built until I started to come, my cock filling her mouth with semen. I expected her to gag, and spit it out, but she swallowed. I cast the spell as I came, letting the semen carry it into her mouth and into her body. If it worked, I would have a chance to be more than a collared slave. If it didn’t …
Hayley sat back on her haunches, my semen dipping from her mouth. “I hope you enjoyed that, you little bastard,” she said. She raised her hand threateningly, not bothering to conceal the motion. My hands were still locked on top of my head. “And now …”
I triggered the spell. I would have preferred to give it more time to bed into her body and magic, but I had to act now or lose everything. Hayley’s eyes went wide with shock as she lost control of her own body. She froze, unable to move anything save for her eyes. I saw them narrow as she tried to counter my spell, but it was impossible. Her defences were designed to root out intruding magic, but my spell turned her own magic against her. I might lack the power to force her to do anything, and she knew it, yet if I used her own magic …
I grinned in relief and pure delight. I had put her under my control, but because I had used her own magic to do it she couldn’t fight me off. I had subverted her power so completely she couldn’t even try. And she couldn’t even ask someone else to help without making herself vulnerable to them too. She was mine.
“Undress,” I ordered. “And make it sexy.”
Hayley stood, slowly. I watched, drinking in the sight, as she removed her clothes one by one. Her shirt came off to reveal her breasts, her nipples hard … I wondered, suddenly, if there was a part of her that enjoyed being submissive. There were plenty of boys who insisted girls were always submissive to boys, but I never met any girl—certainly not magical—who had been submissive without being forced into submission. She pushed her skirt and panties to her ankles, then stepped out of them. Her pussy was glistening with moisture. I commended her to turn and show me her rear, a perfect ass despite the marks. She really was mine.
I could barely speak. “Get down on your knees and bend over,” I ordered. I had to take her like a dog if I wanted the spell to bed in properly. “Now.”
My cock was suddenly hard again, very hard, as she did as she was told. I drank in the sight before me as I advanced on her, pushing my cock into her moist wetness. Hayley was tight, so tight I knew she was a virgin … that she had been a virgin. The doubts vanished as I fucked her as hard as I could, feeling her gasp in reluctant and compelled pleasure as I came inside her. She seemed to collapse, as I pulled out. I could practically taste her shock and despair as the truth sank in.
She was mine now. And there was nothing she could do about it.
And me? I was going to take advantage of her to build a career for myself.