Academy Girl Calandra

Calandra glared at the assembled ward crystals and the blight they surrounded. The source of her misery and unearned despair, the faunaweed. She clicked her teeth, her pearly whites grinding as her lips pulled back. Perhaps if the professor stayed behind to supervise, Calandra might have played off her actions as a simple grimace.

It wasn't though.

She bared her teeth, a mouth filled with a full frontal snarl. Trembles ran down her body, ruining her perfect stance and elegant posture. She couldn't control it. Couldn't stop pulling back her lips, making her teeth stand out even more. Who was she to be behaving like an animal? Her nails clawed into milky-white palms, drawing blood as she tightened her fists.

Unladylike and certainly immature, Calandra couldn't help but indulge in her nasty habit.

Mere words couldn't convey the ire and utter disappointment that rioted inside of her. Who was he, the professor, to make her into a fool in front of her new peers? It was a joke. It was only a joke. Capital city humor, honestly. Big-breasted buffoons like Serafina are often given -and fucked and rutted in public spaces- to sate the appetite of a captive faunaweed. Her classmates were supposed to laugh and laugh. Calandra would smile politely, now firmly established as the new leader of her peers. And Serafina would, well, be fucked.

How could she have know that these backwoods dolts wouldn't share in the light jab?

Teeth glinting in the low light, Calandra averted her gaze. Despite her strength and confidence in herself, eighteen years of proving she could be something special, her eyes had the nerve to feel glossy, wet. Like she was truly, truly upset with their coordinated dismissal. The moment she walked in, it was obvious that Serafina was the freak of their class. How they avoided her and gestured to her book-barred bust. The cattalia clinging to her textbooks to hide her unsightly mounds and that tail, tipped with dandelion fluff, wagging from under her skirt.

Calandra sucked in a breath.

There was no point in crying over lost opportunities.

She was stuck with these fools for a whole year. Certainly, there would be plenty of chances to learn how to get in their good graces.

Something hot and wet ran down her cheek anyways. Calandra refused to think of it as a tear. Something must have gotten into her eye. It was the dust in the air, this out-dated and dirty classroom hadn't been aired properly. Chalkboards were for children who weren't born into a trade or guild. Wooden desks and seats were for the idiots that couldn't weave magic or have anything better to do with their spare time. Real guild-members didn't spend their time at school. They were out in the field, hunting and fighting and gaining

real

experience.

Pinching, her face went red and she sniffled.

God, this is why she couldn't deal with people her own age. They always made her feel so-

The ward barrier sizzled and Calandra snapped to attention. A sickly-pale vine pressed against the risen blue transparent field, wiping where her eyes might have been had if she stepped closer. Calandra choked, sniffling harder. She pulled on her sleeve and fixed her face, wiping the salty liquid away. How dare this thing show her pity. It didn't have eyes. It didn't have a heart. A blight it was. A miserable and shrunken thing.

But ah, her heart hurt.

In this strange place, far, far away from the capital city she loved, Calandra felt her loneliness sharply.

Her grandmother bullied her into attending. Preaching that she needed some time with other youth. Oh spare her! Her grandmother just wanted to put a Mundis in this aging academy before it closed. Some sort of grand gesture from the Mundis Clan to the other weaker guilds and clans that sent their children to attend. And what for? So her grandmother could pretend to be a saint? Calandra tried to think of anything else than her, that wicked aging fool.

Calandra's eyes found their way to the faunaweed, troublesome pest, and she found no peace there.

In its charm-etched pot, the faunaweed wiggled, swaying in a rhythm that was all sorts of infuriating.

Detention for her. Playtime for it.

As the professor showed her, she sprinkled aldine spice over her shoulders and ambled forward. The powder smelled of rancid meat and Calandra took care to not put too much on her. The spice may mask her scent from the faunaweed but she wouldn't dare risk carrying an offensive odor back to the boarding house.

And besides, she wasn't a cattalia.

The feeble-minded weed wouldn't want a thing from her anyhow.

Now into the drawn circle and beyond the protection of the ward crystals, she regarded her new charge. The faunaweed they caught was in dire straights. She never seen one look so pitiful before. Most of its vines were limb and idle, their skin bleaching into a bone-like color. The ones that were spared that horrid shade were only a hint darker, a lilac tan, if she had to be clever on the spot. Harvested of its fauna, it seemed to be dying very slowly.

The weak thing didn't even attempt to court Serafina when she was near, choosing instead to wave and wiggle as the professor prodded it.

Taking the cutting shears, she snipped and snapped the grayed leaves and cracked buds from the vines. A few vines attempted to evade her shears. Dipping and diving up and around each other like headless chicken. Three heads taller than her, the faunaweed was actually becoming a bother when she ran out of low-hanging vines.

Catching one slippery fellow, she held it down with both of her hands. Pressed against the plant's curious skin, Calandra's palm kept the shears in her grip. The faunaweed limbs were oddly skittish around the blade but they frolicked to her empty hand, rubbing up against it before they gave her the chase again.

With the one wiggling, but not trying to escape, in her grasp, Calandra had an idea. Before snipping some more, she used her hand to pet it. Slowly, her soft palm ran down the sizable length of the vine. All at once, it stiffened. Obediently staying in place. Warmth met her hand and the feel of the vine was, frankly, comforting. Like a smoothed piece of wood but much more flexible, her fingers cupped and wandered down the tensing expanse.

Touching the vine like this, her small hands dwarfed by the size and girth of its impressive length- Calandra found herself enjoying the gentle caress she gave it.

Small in stature, she found herself always having to look up at tall people. Fascinated and attracted and despairing. Being petite, she couldn't pretend that she didn't gain a complex over the years as other girls matured and shot up to great heights. And, well, she didn't. This faunaweed took the trouble of having dealing them out of the picture. It wouldn't make remarks about her size. That certainly made it appealing-

Calandra blushed. What was she thinking? This was a plant and she was cleaning it. Nothing more.

She certainly didn't trust it not to bolt once she stopped rubbing. So she brought her legs closer and guided it between them. Letting it pass through her lanky legs made her shiver, the warmth welcomed to press against her lower thighs. So big it was, making her knees fan out as she brought it closer.

Calandra expected a fight. Perhaps to be knocked backwards once she trapped the vine between her slender legs but none came. The vine dutifully stayed in place. Its snake-like tip envining around her legs to make circles in the back of her thighs. The sensation was- Calandra couldn't really find a word for it. Soothing. Simple. As the faunaweed continued to massage her knees, she found herself falling into a little rhythm. Stroke. Snip. Sigh. She went to work, cleaning the vine of its dead things and found her work growing slower and slower. It was the vine, the heat it emanated increasing to cozy fire-place levels.

Distracted, she hardly noticed that her sighs were growing longer. Less filled with the dread of busy work and more content. And the moment she realized that, Calandra couldn't stop the next sigh, a extremely inappropriate not-sigh, from leaving her mouth.

A stuttering half-moan escaped her lips and her eyes fell shut as she squeezed her legs harder. Spirits, why did it feel so-

The shears fell from her hand, hitting the floor with a solemn thump. Instinctively, Calandra went to pick them up. Awkwardly bending over as she was of the mind to not let the vine go. And the vine went further and further up. It hit the seat of her blue cotton panties, brushing up against her lower lips and sparked another stutter.

Calandra fell forward, her body braced on the vine. The intoxicating heat was everywhere. It swept into her clothes like she was nude, her body alight in warmth and comfort. It felt so, so good. Calandra rubbed her face into it, delighted that there was something holding and cradling her. She hated when tall people did it. Tricked herself that she didn't wanted to babied or thought of as weak but no- Being held like this was great. Wonderful. Calandra could fall asleep here, perfect like this.

Her eyes closed, cheek squishing against the vine's ever-loving embrace.

No.

No!

What if someone came in and

saw

her? Legs spread over the faunaweed.

She couldn't recover from that scandal!

Calandra's eyes flew open. She struggled to sit up and found herself straddling the vine, her clothed pussy pressed harder against the vine's heat. The faunaweed's limb jiggled from her movement, bouncing her body and rear.

Up she went, gasping. Down she fell, her hips and panties rocking into the vine.

The sensation was glorious, the air loud with her thighs slapping against the vine. Her pussy roused into play, her clitoris becoming hard and erect from the

accidental

spring back she created. If she didn't do anything, she could bounce herself to an orgasm and Calandra was never good at being silent. She'd do something ridiculous like giddily scream and clamp her legs around the vine, cumming with not a bit of shame.

How good were the walls of the academy?

What if someone next-door heard and came running. How on earth could she explain herself out of that one?

And why was she making it worse?

That was the hard-hitting question she should be focusing on.

Calandra turned and let go, hitting the floor and regaining her sense of dignity. Nervously, she risked glanced back. The classroom was still empty. Silent. No professor or fellow student gracing the hall nearby. To her left, a row of windows overlooked rolling hills and the forest, Wickwood, further out. To her right, was the professor's desk and a closet where she was to place the faunaweed once she finished grooming it.

This was her last duty of the day. If she just finished it, she could be free to sulk in her room.

She couldn't allow herself to get distracted.

Calandra plunged herself into her work, stroking the vines and stripping them bare. But each time she petted a vine into good behavior, she found her looking less and less over her shoulder. As more and more of the vines were picked clean of their imperfections, Calandra found her mind wandering. If somebody were to come, they would have done so already. What point is there to check up on her, the transfer student, on the day before class officially began? Even if she made a mockery of herself by taking a long time on her task, they'd assume she'd already finished her work. The faunaweed safely secured in the closet and ready for another presentation tomorrow.

Calandra's mind ran in circles, her mouth growing wide as her teeth gleamed.

There was really no reason why she

couldn't

indulge herself in another habit.

Habits were good for you.

The faculty of this school wouldn't want to shun that practice would they? Of course, not. She was free to do as she wished. In fact, if they didn't want her to do it, they would've left someone behind.

That made perfect sense, didn't it?

Calandra snipped the last vine and considered her work. The faunaweed looked much better, lively and bright. The bone-color faded into lavender and new buds, actually plum-shade, a healthy sign, bloomed upon the vines. Enjoying the show, she clapped and the silly faunaweed preened.

The air filled with sparkling pollen, gold in color, and Calandra inhaled. Sweet and rich with her favorite smells; honey-dew, ginger, nut-meg and sugar-cane. The smells of home, the guild and her father's great cooking.

Ah, she didn't feel as out of sorts as before. That was a welcomed improvement.

Calandra took one last probing glance at the door, her eyes passing the sea of wooden desks and rows. This would be her classroom proper tomorrow but today, and if only for today, she would treat it as her bedroom.

And ah, it excited her.

Calandra lifted her school skirt, red and bell-shaped with white frills along the hem, over her wasp-like rear. The skirt, as she noted, unintentionally showed off her impressive rear assets. Outlining the cresting curves of her twin cheeks. There were no boys in her class today, a odd thing since the academy was for both genders, but she imagined if she had a few, they wouldn't be able to look her in the eye. Too busy with imagining with how her supple buttcheeks might feel in the palm of their hands, tender and warm and reddening from their tight grip.

Up and up went the skirt, the fabric teasing her shy skin. Her cheeks redden as she considered her stance and placement. Behind her was the door. If someone walked in, the first thing they would see would be her round and thick virgin buttcheeks in a vulgar display. The thought of it delighted her and her tongue slid along her plump lips in anticipation. No one was coming. Somebody was coming. The uncertainty was delicious.

Finally, her rear was exposed. Her unmentionables now, ha, mentionable. On the door was a vertical mirror, likely used to catch trouble-makers that thought to sneak out of class early. Calandra caught herself in it, her blue panties clinging snug to her pussy.

A wet spot growing as she bent further over.

Entranced, she studied herself. First was her long hair, the color of star-dust as any proper pure-blood Mundis, pinned into a side-bun. Then her eyes, green and clouded with naked lust. Then to her svelte figure, her academy garb complementing her form. She'd never been one for skirts before this. Pants made her look taller. And once more, to her panties, lovely things touching her lower lips and hiding her private place.

She was so caught in staring that she didn't notice the vine floating towards her until it wrapped around her knee. Calandra gasped, her balance broken and her arms uselessly flailing in the air. Another vine took her other knee and she was turned around, her front to the mirror. Her skirt fell right back down. Hiding her panties from view once more.

Caught in the vines, Calandra considered her options. She wasn't

truly

trapped. There were plenty of spells and tricks she could use to escape her bonds. But she couldn't bring herself to

want

to. She looked so appealing in that mirror, her legs bound, her lips curved into a naughty smirk.

A pair of vines took hold of her skirt's hem, dragging slowly up her skin. Calandra shivered, watching herself be undressed and aroused by the peep-show she made. Once her skirt was up into the air, the vines struggled with it. Calandra sensed that plants might not find clothing all that useful to keep and and unbuttoned it before lifting it up and over her head. There the red garment drooped, a few feet from her school-issued brown boots.

The faunaweed stilled, as if thinking. Calandra giggled, finding it charming. With a nearby vine, she tugged it closer and brought it to her panties. With her hands around the tip, she deliberately rubbed into her panties, pushing the vine into her clothed folds and dampening flesh. The vine writhed in her hold, increasing her pleasure.

While she guided it, a pair of vines took to her white school blouse. Snaking around her, and not even bothering with the buttons, they pulled up the shirt across her taut belly. One firmly held her shirt while the other went under the bunched fabric. The vine hooked across her simple bra and pulled, snapping it in half. Calandra gasped, eyes going wide as the vine did away with the remnants of her bra. Slithering over her small mounds of perking tit-flesh as it went for the tattered straps.

Now bra-less, the vines touched her in and out of her blouse, the fabric adding even more texture to make a pleasant and erotic friction with. In the mirror, she saw her nipples poke through. Resembling tiny pink cherries as they were enticed into hardening. More vines took to her chest, popping buttons and fighting with one another. Her blouse went up and up and finally, her breasts were bared to the air. They were small things, each breasts less than a cup of grain if one held them.

The faunaweed didn't seem to know what to make of it. Normally, she'd be offended but with the faunaweed, it was oddly adorable. It learning how to touch her breasts. Her ass got pinched and slapped aplenty but nobody wanted anything to do with her chest. One vine stroked both her arolas, marking the darker dusk-colored skin contract. Another pressed her breasts together, making a tiny valley from her tit-flesh. Pleased by it, a smaller vine slid through, caressing the flesh tunnel made. It tickled, the smaller vines textured like lips. In its own way, it felt like the faunaweed was kissing her. Her pebble-like nipples harden, rising out of her skin and jutting out like they were seeking kisses as well. The smaller vine noticed, brushing and fondling her nipples briefly before resuming the path of kisses it laid between her breasts.

Vines squeezed around her cresting mounds, pushing up, and others wrapped around her nipples, twisting and pulling.

Lewd sounds escaped her mouth, her voice light and careless. She moaned, losing her rhythm as her breasts were prodded and played. Her tit-flesh blushing and growing tender under their frenzied care. The vine between her legs carried on without her input, thrusting faster and further. Calandra's hips began to shake as her pleasure went higher and higher. Her panties were soaked. Sweet juices trickling down her thighs. The vine riding her seemed to like her feminine fluid, touching her sex and trying to pump her for more.

With her hands free and unattended to, the vines came for them. Thick vines, darker in color, the proper textbook purple for a faunaweed, pressed into her palms. On their tips were a leafy, cock-like head that radiated heat and leaked green, sugary-smelling goo. That sap, Calandra frowned, trying to remember the properties she must have known about it. Wasn't it the base of a high-level cure-all potion? It was so hard to cultivate faunaweed into sparing a single drop and here it was, presenting it to her.

Curious on its taste, Calandra pressed her mouth against one and licked. Mmh, it tasted so good. Like apples mixed with honey. Calandra licked with vigor, making her chosen vine slick with saliva. The other thick vines pressed harder into her hands and she cupped them, rubbing up and down their lengths. They twitched and throbbed in her hold, weeping even more goo that splattered on her half-nude body. As the goo fell on her body, painting it streaks of transparent green, she felt her sensitivity rise. Her breasts ached. Her panties and pussy drenched as her liquid pleasure seeped as rivets down her legs.

The clip to her side-bun popped without noticed and her long, mid-shoulder length hair, flew into her face. Thanks to the sweat building across her body, her messy bangs clung to her face. Making her appear disheveled and freshly-fucked, her skin rosy and glowing. Reflected in the glass, she looked less of a student and more of a lady of the night, her white locks falling whichever way they pleased and hardly hiding her nipples and modesty.