Stephik's leg won't stop bouncing under the desk as he sits in the front row of the lecture hall, his gaze unable to pull away from Doctor Albright, who is standing at his lectern and shuffling through some of his notes before he begins to talk.
He's a handsome man. He's tall and square at the shoulder, has grey streaking through his tied up bun of dark chestnut hair, and his eyes are an emerald-flecked grey. He has unusually large irises, his pupils permanent pinpricks owing to a magical injury when he was a child, and the green and brown in his eyes is obvious even from here in the first row of the theatre.
Stephik turns his head over his shoulder and looks at the number of men in the hall, the theatre at its full hundred-and-something capacity, and it's such a lot of young men, so many of them. The youngest will be the same age as Stephik, nineteen, and then there'll be some twenty and twenty-one-year-olds, and then there are a few of the mature students, too, some of them even as old as Albright himself, at fifty-something.
He can barely concentrate on Albright as he begins the lecture, speaking with wide, sweeping gestures of his beautiful hands, which are long-fingered and have freckles spattered across their backs that mirror the freckles on his nose and cheeks. He paints his nails green, and colour on them catches the light as he moves, just like it catches the green in his eyes.
This isn't really information they haven't got already -- he has a printed copy of the year ahead's syllabus in front of him, and he's excited about it, about understanding runic networking. He likes to work with wands and staves, loves the satisfaction that comes with channelling magic through finer tools, to give him more dexterity and more pin-point precision -- but channelling magic through mycelium networks, using fungal spores to attain control of a field in battle, or to spread healing magic across a wide enough area?
All too quickly, Doctor Albright has reached the end of his introductory lecture, and they're into the last half hour.
"As you know," Albright says, flipping his chalkboard over, and Stephik's mouth is slightly open, his breath catching in his throat. The diagrams on the chalkboard are frankly drawn in Albright's neat, mechanically careful hand -- of the inside of an anus, the prostate, and then an anus before preparation and after. "It is expected of students here at the academy to refrain from pursuing romantic or intimate relationships during the course of your studies this year -- the magic you're channelling in this course is very delicate, and any lapse in your concentration can have horrific results. We understand, however, that each of you are young men in your prime -- most of you, in any case," Albright amends, with a meaningful glance to a few of his compatriots in age at the top part of the lecture hall, and a laugh runs through the them.
Albright's gaze then falls on Stephik, and he curls one finger in a sharp indication for Stephik to approach him, to approach the stage, which Stephik does, his head held down.
"You have sexual urges, needs, desires. We have arranged what we find is a fair balance for your needs versus the necessary requirement to avoid outside distraction -- and an additional incentive for each of you to perform well on your examinations. Robe off, Mr Loven, or do you think your classmates have some manner of magical vision?"
Stephik shivers before he drops his robes off his shoulders -- before the lecture, Albright had already insisted he remove his underthings, that they were on a tight schedule, that there was no point wasting time on his fumbling with clothes and underwear.
"Good man," Albright says briskly, nudging Stephik forward, and Stephik stands naked except for his boots and lets out a soft noise as Albright puts his hand on Stephik's lower back and pushes him over the desk. "Over a desk like this, young man," he says -- it's advice for Stephik, but given loudly enough that everyone in the room can hear it -- "you might prefer the stability of bracing your palms on the wood like this -- it keeps you tall, doesn't it? Makes you feel less like you're being unmanned? But of course, if your peers are having you, they will be unmanning you, and there's no sense exhausting yourself in the process. Down on your forearms, please... Yes, that's it, very good. Thighs a little wider apart, hips back, there you are."
Albright doesn't comment on the fact that Stephik's cock is hard, but he can hear that other people are, hear soft laughs, and when he glances back, he sees people nudging one another as they look down at him.
At his hole. His cock. His cock, hard and hanging down between his legs, aching and craving to be touched.
"Mr Loven here averaged the lowest overall score of each of you on last year's final exams," Albright announces, and fuck, but the humiliation runs right through him and, insanely, down to his cock, makes his prick feel harder, makes it twitch between his legs, and there's more laughter. "Find that funny, do you?" Albright asks. "I can tell you that whilst Mr Loven's overall scores were lowest, he more than excels in the field of channelling magic -- I would be hard-pressed to believe any of you will ever see him in this position again."
Albright's hand slides between Stephik's legs, and he's caught between the flattery of the comment, the way that Albright's tone has gone hard to tell his classmates that he's good at this work, and the feel of Albright's hand around his prick, the sensation of him squeezing him, and it feels good.
"The lowest in the pack will serve the rest of his classmates. Outside of lesson time and protected hours through the course of each of his day for study, he will be available for the rest of you to use -- his arse and mouth, and depending on the luck of the draw, his cunt as well."
Stephik shivers again.
"You will remember, of course, that this is a peer of yours, not merely a synthetic toy or some whore from the city streets," Albright says sternly, and Stephik hears the quiet pop of the stopper coming loose from the bottle as he opens the lubricant. "There is a reason we have you release your frustrations on one your classmates as opposed to an outside party -- all parties are assured to be clean, won't bring in outside distractions, and there is an expectation, too, of certain solidarity, hm? You will properly prepare your classmate for use, you will take care to avoid using him so hard as to injure or badly strain his arse or his throat, or his cunt, if he has one.
"Now, to use his arse, you will drizzle some lubricant over your fingers, like so, and then rub it around his hole, hm? Mr Loven here is a pretty and hairless youth, so we have quite fine visibility," something about his phrasing makes Stephik's brain and skin sing, Albright calling him pretty, and he wishes in the moment that Albright would use him too, fuck him too, "but for a hairier classmate, you'll need to be more assured that he's properly wet here, hm? You want to massage his hole just like this, rub about the muscle, get your lubricant here and shiny -- see how this tight pucker is becoming less wrinkled the wetter it gets?"
Stephik can't help the noises that are eking out of him, the soft whimpers that are coming out of his throat as he presses his palms harder into the wood of the table, because it feels good. Albright's fingers are massaging firmly against the tight ring of his arse, working the muscle under his touch as he does his best not to squirm or shudder or twitch.
He wants Albright to be impressed with him. He wants Albright to be proud of him, to like how Stephik feels under his hand -- he wonders if Albright will think about it tonight, will think about easing his prick into Stephik's arse after he's done prepping him for the class to see, and it makes Stephik's head spin, the thought of it.
"You're massaging this muscle to loosen it, hm?" Albright prompts. "There are two rings of muscle making up this little sphincter, so you massage from the outside, and then you press in, like so..."
Stephik wails, his head dropping to the backs of his hands as Albright slides his fingers an inch or so into his arse and begins to press and massage more lube onto the inner part of his asshole instead, and there's laughter throughout the room, but Albright ignores it.
He sets one hand gently on Stephik's lower back and rubs a slow circle into the skin with his warm palm, and at the same time twists his finger around the edges of his hole, rubbing lube into the skin from all sides, and it feels good.
"If you want to best pleasure your classmate with a cock, his prostate is just here -- you see it on the diagram on the board, hm? So in this position, with his prostate at the base of his prick, you want to press with your fingertips like... this..."
Stephik lets out a harsher sound, but manages to muffle most of it into the back of his forearm, tears on his cheeks at the sheer intensity of the sensation -- Albright is rubbing in slow, deliberate circles right against his prostate, and Albright had warned him yesterday afternoon that it would be intense, that the sensation would overwhelm him, but he hadn't been prepared for just how much it would. He's openly sobbing, his thighs trembling as they spread further apart on sheer instinct because he just wants more of Albright inside him.
Everyone's watching him.
He's aware of it, aware of the hundred other mages that are staring down at his open hole and seeing it twitch and clench down around Albright's fingers, seeing Stephik's thighs shudder, seeing his cock leak because Albright's fucking milking it.
He's dripping on the floor, and drops of his pre are falling onto the floor between his legs just like his tears are falling onto the desk between his hands.
"Of course, given how many of you will be using your classmate, whatever lucky young man that proves to be after your mid-term exams, you might want to do the opposite."
Stephik lets out an involuntary sound of loss as Albright fucks him with his fingers, fucks deep into his arse with the two of them pressed together and very carefully avoids his prostate, and Stephik feels like he's aware of every inch of vein inside his body, feels like he can feel just how hot his blood is. Every thrust of his fingers, Stephik can feel how it's not so much as grazing his prostate, can feel how full he's getting and then the emptiness, can feel the stretch of sphincter muscles, can feel his cock bobbing in the air as he slightly moves his hips with Albright's touch.
"See how my fingers are entering him but aren't putting too much direct touch on his prostate, hm? Your classmate will only be able to come so many times in one day, and too much direct prostate stimulation once he's milked dry, so to speak, can be not only too pleasurable, but painful, even."
Albright pulls back his hand, and Stephik lets out another quiet sound of loss, breathing heavily into his hands and staring forward, tears brimming still under his eyes, more of them wet on his cheeks.
He can't bear to turn around and see the eyes of everyone on him, see everyone staring at him, looking at him, thinking about sliding their cocks into his hole and using him, and Gods, fuck, he hasn't even thought about oral, or... or other stuff.
Albright's voice washes over him, and he doesn't fully tune into it as he keeps trying to control his breaths -- hears Albright talking about techniques to relax one's throat to accept the cock into it, but that there's no obligation for any of them to learn such techniques if they prove too difficult; hears him talking about avoiding haemorrhoids, to go to the college physician if they need them treated and cared for; hears him talking about contraceptives for those who can get pregnant; hears him talk about the regular tests for sexually transmitted infections, and that for anyone who is having sex outside of the program without prior permissions, there will be punishment.
"Very well," says Albright. "For the next three weeks, I'm sure the lot of you can conduct yourselves with appropriate decorum -- after your initial exams are marked and tallied, the first of you will be plucked out for use by his peers. After each exam this year, a new candidate will be taken from the pile and will take over these conjugal duties. Any questions?"
