Foxglove Academy for Girls

As is customary for youths all across the globe, any child displaying signs that mark them as nonhuman (witch, warlock, medium, vampire, etc) must enter a local or privately run academy where they not only learn skills to help them better survive in a society that does not always look kindly upon them, but to also learn how to harness the power that makes them so special. For many, this journey into adulthood is an exciting experience, for others it is a time to rebel. After turning 18 those troubled teens often find themselves pulled from their respective academies and thrust into one meant to curb their attitudes and rehabilitate them. Some who show promise may be transferred upon acceptance to other universities and continue on with their futures. For the rest, depending on their crimes, this is the last chance they have.

Welcome to Foxglove Academy for Troubled Girls, a place for those souls touched, or tainted by magic, to grow, learn, and with hopes, survive.

*****

Leona washed the potting soil from her hands and frowned when she was unable to remove some of it from under her nails. They'd been finely manicured once. Painted and buffed to a nice shine. Now after two weeks in this place, they were worn and chipped.

"I'm so damn tired of sticking my hands in dirt. How many times do we have to plant tomatoes for the cafeteria." She looked to the young woman beside her at the sink. "Can't they do it on their own?"

Amanda laughed. "Why would they do that when they have free labor right here? Besides, technically this is horticulture class so we get graded on the school garden." A dark tattoo of what appeared to be a celtic knot poked out from beneath her blouse along her forearm. She was one of the only girls she'd managed to get to know and still didn't really know at all.

The petite teen smiled. "I guess I see your point. Why not use us while they have us."

"Finally, you're learning your place, little girl."

Both erupted into laughter. Leona flicked a bit of cold water in her direction. "Unlike the rest of the sheep here, I'm not going to 'learn my place'. That isn't in my blood. In fact I'm surprised you're so willing to accept the way things are run." She playfully nudged her with her shoulder. "If my father had any idea of how this place was being run..."

Her friend smiled back at her but she could tell it wasn't entirely genuine. "I told you, Leona. You're gonna learn that there's worse things than detention here."

She shook her head. "They don't have anything I haven't already seen."

"Ladies." The deep voice cut through their discussion like a hot knife. Turning her head, Leona saw Professor Devereux standing behind them, watching the pair behind dark framed glasses. "I said get back to your stations."

Amanda dried her hands and did as she was told without so much as a hesitation. Leona on the other hand did not submit so easily. She took her time turning off the sink before leisurely moving toward her potting station

"We don't have all day Leona." He warned.

Passing him she realized just how tall he was, not that it took much given her petite stature. Still, the man towered over her with his broad shoulders, his expression forever stoic. Of course it would take more than his height to shake her into submission.

Rejoining the gaggle of young women she could do nothing but listen to the hum of countless conversations happening all at once. Most were of more superficial topics, while others were whispered in secrecy. None of which involved the new 'first year'. In fact the pale girl might as well have been a ghost living among them for the past few weeks.

"Ladies, some of you may hate me for this, but it's time for a quiz." Professor Devereux stood at the head of the class while the afternoon sun poured through the greenhouse window panes, turning his shoulder length, ginger hair into gold. Only a few responded with groans and those that did were careful to keep it as quiet as possible. "I think I've been too lenient with you all and, as I'm sure you heard during morning announcements, The Headmaster will be returning to the Academy soon and I'm sure he will be eager to see how much you've all learned since the beginning of this semester."

The apparent return of the Headmaster meant little to Leona. The figurehead of the Academy had been absent during Open Ceremonies, making the service feel that much more ridiculous as all she could do was stare at his empty yet heavily decorated chair.

Smoothing his tie down against his grey dress shirt, the professor grabbed a stack of papers from his perpetually messy desk. Without needing to be told every girl took a sheet and passed the stack on to the next.

Tests, quizzes, lectures... they were all three reasons why school life had never worked out for the teen. Was it so hard to simply allow her to do as she pleased without boundaries? Authority? By the time the paper reached her, and the professor retired to his desk, her mind refused to work. Sure knew some of the answers, but to figure them all out was a chore she didn't want to tackle. Leaning casually toward the left she spied on her neighbor's paper. That would get her by, after all it always did.

At the end of class they all began filing out after turning in their quiz. Placing it on one of the many piles on his unkempt desk, it was a wonder he'd be able to even find them. When it came time for the petite blond to place hers with the rest, the warlock somehow knew she was there even with his back toward her.

"Leona." Her name always fell so roughly from his lips when he spoke it.

She stopped in her tracks, letting the rest of the class pass her by. The girl watched her teacher clip a few miniature branches off the twisted bonsai resting on his window ledge. "Yeah."

"Your skirt goes against Foxglove dress code.I don't want to see it again." The tall man glanced over his shoulder to look at her. "Am I understood?"

Leona ran a hand down her leg. Unlike the rest of her classmates the skirt lay well above her knees. She made him wait an extra beat before answering. "Sure. I understand."

His amber eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall. "When is your last class of the evening over?"

She shrugged, already knowing where this was headed. "Around 8 o'clock."

"See me afterwards. No latter than 8:10. I won't tolerate tardiness."

A less than genuine smile tugged at her lips. Her first detention. How wonderfully juvenile. "Yes, sir. I'll be here."

--

Leona made her way into the Horticulture wing with the same leisurely pace she had for everything these days. Moonlight crept through the greenhouse windows illuminating the rows of Nightshade they'd planted only last week. Already the buds had begun to blossom. Brilliant, dark blue petals opened up wide, barring their brittle insides for her to see. Leona looked down the line and found hers. The leaves were still green, as she was surprisingly happy to see, but unlike the rest the buds remained tightly closed.

"You're late." Professor Devereux's deep voice echoed along the glass window panes. Leona felt her entire body flinch hard.

It took a few moments before she was able to find her voice. "We had a practice fire drill in my dorm."

She moved forward. His large oak desk was nestled into the back of the greenhouse, forever covered in stacks of parchment he never seemed to get through. Tonight those papers floated effortlessly in the air with minds of their own

"I despise excuses." He said boredly. "When I give you an order it is to be carried out as I spake it." The broad shouldered man didn't look up as she approached. His eyes remained fixated on the leather bound book he scribbled in.

Leona watched the papers floating in the air, rearranging the piles in an unknown order. She could feel the magic spell he'd cast to make them move, crackling along her skin. She'd heard rumors about what he was, how he was one of the few warlocks teaching in the academy but she didn't fully believe it until now.

"Well, I'm sorry. Besides, I'm only ten minutes late." She shrugged while shoving back the straight blond hair that had fallen over her eyes. "What's the big deal?"

His quill stopped scribbling. Looking up over his book the Ancient Herbs & Horticulture Professor finally set his eyes on her. Reaching up he slowly removed the black rimmed glasses she'd never seen him without. "First years..." He shook his head. "You are by far my least favorite girls. For some reason it is so difficult for you all to realize that this place is the only thing standing between you and jail. And human jail is its own kind of purgatory for those like us. Yet, instead of realizing how very lucky you are, you decide to give me, one of the only people who hasn't fully given up on you, grief." He looked back down at his book. "What are you?"

The change in subject matter felt jarring. She cleared her throat. "A warg..." The word itself was something Leona treated as a slur against her. She hated it and how it made her feel less than human. So what she'd been able to see through the eyes of the family cat when she was five, or make the mailman a little more fearful when she would take control of the neighbor's german shepherd and chase him from the lawn? That was all just silly games.

"Ah, and I'm sure I'm right in assuming you have no interests in your abilities or the lore attached to your kind's history. You probably see your gifts as nothing more than parlor tricks." He paused briefly before speaking again. "Do you know why I asked for you to meet me after classes?"

Again Leona found herself shrugging. It took quite a bit more intimidation to get her to crack. She knew all the tactics and bringing up a sensitive subject wouldn't break her.

The professor leaned back in his chair. Now standing this close she could make out the pattern on the tie that laid smoothly down his grey dress shirt. Small oak leaves. Eyes that now seemed rather predatory looked her over. "What did I tell you about your skirt?"

Leona glanced down at her uniform. A black vest with the school's insignia was emblazoned above her right breast. The white blouse underneath was cuffed at her elbows, mainly so she could display the gold bracelets that dangled from both wrists. The skirt itself was her favorite part, along with the jewelry it set her apart from the rest of the young women who were all carbon copies of each other. Her milky thighs peeked out from underneath the dark fabric, showing enough skin to make others wonder about what rested between them. It had driven the boys crazy at her other academy. Everyone had wanted her, or at least a small show of what she hid underneath it.

"You told me it was too short. I figured I'd change it tomorrow. Didn't really see the harm in wearing it for the rest of the day." So he didn't see her fidgit, the teenager clasped her hands behind her back.

"You thought wrong. Very wrong. And let me remind you of something, Leona, something you were taught during your first week. When I ask you a question, and you answer, you end it with 'Professor Devereux, or Professor." Reaching up he ran his hand down the dark stubble of his jaw. "So, when I say, I know you cheated on your Poisonous Herbs Quiz today. You reply with..."

A sharp sting ran through her stomach. How did he know? She'd been so careful. Not to mention he'd been nose deep in his books during that class period. Or perhaps... this was just a test.

"I... I didn't cheat, Professor Devereux." She lied.

A small smile pulled at his masculine lips. "Good. You can follow orders after all." The tall man crooked his finger, beckoning her to come closer.

For the first time in what felt like forever Leona felt an odd sensation take hold of her. She was intimidated by this man when hours early she didn't believe it to be possible. Slowly her feet took her closer to the large desk and floating parchment. Her heart, an organ she'd long since thought to be frozen beat hard in her chest.

"This would probably go a lot faster if you just told me what you want me to do for detention." She said, in a last ditch effort to hold onto her resolve. "Write sentences, Plant vegetables in the dark." Even she had trouble believing the toughness in her voice. It was fading fast.

The man leaned his head to the side. The soft glow of candles cast odd shadows across his face, making it so she couldn't read him, not that he often appeared as anything but stoic. "Is that what you think's going to happen?"

Suddenly the magic spell she'd felt in the air vanished. Papers, no longer tethered to anything but gravity, floated down around the pair. Had she been anywhere but Foxglove, Leona would have run before he made his next move. After that she could alert someone, anyone who would listen as to how she was being unfairly treated. Slowly the delinquent began to realize that those privileges were far gone.

The Professor leaned further back. His hand reached down between his legs gripping at the hardness that had worked itself up beneath his slacks. As soon as her eyes saw it there she immediately looked away, shocked and embarrassed. "You like dressing like a slut. I can tell."

"No..I-"

"Shut up. That wasn't a question. And if it isn't a question you don't answer." His tongue darted out, drawing quickly across his bottom lip. "I'm sure you caused quite a distraction for all your classmates back home, strutting that ass all around the school, dishonoring the very name your academy held so dear." Devereux gave his hidden manhood one more small squeeze. "Turn around and show it to me."

Leona froze.

His dark, amber eyes showed a glimpse of anger. "Your ass. Let's see what you're so proud of." When she still didn't move he began to lean forward and said words she'd not heard since her childhood years. "Don't make me come over there."

His deep voice echoed around her in such a way that made her knees almost weak. Slowly she turned on her thick heels and tugged her skirt up over her round cheeks. Leona knew exactly what it looked like. As a girl her breasts had always been small, the pink nipples reminding her of little, sweet candies on her porcelain skin. But her ass she'd been forever enamoured by. Round and fleshy, it along with her strong thighs seemed shaped just for a man's delight.

"Does that bit of elastic even constitute as a thong?"

"Yes..." Quickly she added. "Professor Devereux."

"Good girl. Now come here."

Leona let her skirt hang back down over her rear and moved to bring herself closer to him. At near 6'1, even sitting the man managed to dwarf her petite, pear shaped body. His ginger colored hair was typically worn at shoulder length, but tonight he'd pulled it back away from his stubbled face. He grabbed her forearm roughly and yanked her to him. The teen, who'd been sensitive to magic since puberty, could feel the power lurking under the warlock's skin.

"Cheating and lying isn't permitted at Foxglove, Leona. In fact it would be against the rules for me to allow you to leave this room without being punished." Quickly his strong hands turned her body so her back was facing him and then hoisted her small figure into his lap. He smelled of lavender and musk, a man who worked day and night among nothing but plants and soil. The girl's heart beat heavier in her chest now, her adrenaline mixing with a twinge of fear. "What kind of teacher would I be if I didn't discipline you?" He whispered into her ear.

The professor's cock pushed itself between the cheeks of her ass, allowing her to feel its thick shape. All those years of fooling with boys in the back seat of cars with their small pricks didn't compare to the hard cock hiding in his pants. Rough hands slid up her knee high socks before gripping the pale flesh of her thigh. "Now show it to me."

Leona looked down at her legs spread over his. Tentatively, she hiked up her skirt to show him the black thong barely hiding her sex.

"More." He demanded. "I want to see your pussy."

The dirty word caused butterflies to swirl in her stomach and yet she still obeyed. A manicured nail reached down and tugged the thong aside to show him her shaved pussy. Every inch of her body was pale except for the lips of her sex that seemed to blush a soft rose. The professor reached up and cupped her gently before allowing his thumb to flick across the area where her clit would be. Leona gasped.

"Sluts like you enjoy that don't they?" He whispered, this time pressing his face against her so she could feel his chin at her ear. His fingers drew up her pink slit. She trembled in his lap. Devereux's other hand worked its way up her body. Leona felt his fingers shove their way beneath both her blouse and sweater vest, roughly reaching for her breasts. Her nipples were hard long before she'd sat in his lap. The moment he'd order her to lift her skirt her body had begun to disobey her mind and react. He tugged hard at her bra beneath her clothes until her pert breast could be cupped and kneaded.

She cried out in both surprise and pain.

"You're already wet." Looking down at his fingers, she watched them move back and forth across her. After a few flicks she could see the wetness making his fingertips glisten. They pushed past her blushing lips to the pink of her clit.

"Oh god."

Tingles of pleasure radiated out from between her legs, causing her skin to flush. A tremor trickled through her legs and caused her feet to swing so far away from the floor below. At his mercy she could only watch herself be disciplined.

"Look at me, Leona." He ordered.

The delinquent pushed her head back into his chest and allowed her green eyes to meet his. "Are you going to cheat in my class again?" After he asked his question two fingers slowly plunged into her wet opening. She answered him with a pleasureful mewling that didn't at all ask for him to stop. He rocked his fingers in and out of her. "I asked you a question."

"No.." She moaned. "I won't do it again, professor."

By now the sound of wet suction filled the air as her juices gushed out around him. Without warning he slid in another finger.

"Oh god." Leona looked down to watch his hand move against her. "I promise... I promise I won't..." Again and again his fingers disappeared inside of her, pushing against her most sensitive parts, parts only men knew how to reach. Pleasure, both heavy and intense began to build up inside her small body.

And then suddenly his fingers pulled free. "I want to believe you. I really do." Devereux gripped her lower chin and pulled her face up to look at his. "But you're such a good liar. You've had 18 years to perfect that skill." For a second his fingers dipped into her mouth, forcing her to taste her sweet nectar while his other hand still tugged at her nipples beneath her shirt. "I think you need more in depth methods of punishment. Don't you?"

Sucking on his index finger Leona was still in the strong afterglow of what she could only assume was ecstasy. Did he want an answer? She found herself asking while looking into those stern amber eyes. And if she was to respond, what would her answer be? Did she want more of his teaching? Could her body withstand his abuse? Or better yet, would the professor allow her to reach a climax?

Devereux slid her off his lap so she could stand on shaky feet. He tugged down the skirt over the swell of her shapely hips and gave both cheeks a hard smack that took her breath away. "Take off your clothes. Leave the socks and shoes." Each word was said so matter of factly it made her believe this method of punishment was commonplace for him.

When her clothes were abandoned beside his desk he pulled her onto his lap a second time, now with her facing him. The broad shouldered man gripped her ass cheeks in both hands, massaging and spreading them without mercy. Her hands pressed into his chest which she now could tell was hard and muscled. "Go on, I'm sure you know how to take it out."