In the courtyard garden, Ember kneels before Ishaza's small table, the intense need of a new dose of aphrodisiac curling up in her stomach. It’s a good day; the dose feels hot, needy, but she’s able to channel it, to direct it where she wants. She’s feeling more than confident.

  "Devotary names," Ishaza says, her arrowhead-pointed tail flexing against the ground. She wears another of her dangerously low-cut numbers today, which bares so much cleavage it’s easy to imagine her dress falling off completely. "Restate the key points from your essay." She picks up her teacup and takes a measured sip of the jasmine tea.

  Ember takes a shuddery breath and directs her attention back to Ishaza's hooves. It’s not that she really needs the control exercise — it’s that it’s rude to Ishaza. Though she hasn’t seemed to mind in the past…

  "Devotary names go back to the traditions of the first kindled, but have been eborated on over the centuries. Originally they were purely fire-based names used to indicate that those who had been kindled had severed all ties with their past lives as mortals. As the guild became less exclusionary and secretive over its two centuries of existence, the meaning changed; in the modern day, devotary names are merely used to indicate that the wearer has set aside some portion of their past, and can be themed based on fire or flowers." The rote recital barely occupies her attention; her gaze drifts up from Ishaza's crossed thighs to her breasts and fixes on their soft curves.

  Ishaza continues. "Who introduced this shift in meaning?"

  Ember moves her gaze away, and a small smile comes to her face. The motion of control is natural now, after so many days of practice.

  She moves her gaze back to Ishaza’s breasts. No reason not to look, after all.

  "The guild leader Valerian took a new, flower-based name upon her instatement, and due to her strong popurity with new guild members, many others copied her usage. It had been changing slowly over the past few decades as the original founder became less and less influential, her isotionist policies being repced with Valerian's cautious embrace of the public eye." She's not really paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth; the important thing is Ishaza's gorgeous breasts. They're full and soft-looking and she's close enough she could reach out and squeeze them in her hands...

  Ember shifts on her cushion, rubbing her thighs together, her mind full of the fantasy of kissing and pping at Ishaza's breasts —

  Ishaza sets down the teacup with a firm click. "Does Valerian still lead the guild in the modern day?"

  Ember shakes her head, trying to clear the haze of clinging fantasies. "I —" She tears her gaze away from Ishaza’s breasts and presses her hand to her forehead. "She retired. She lives... in a small vil in Ignis with a half-dozen partners who have simirly left the guild after a term of service, and by all accounts is. Very happy." And very sexually satisfied, reading between the lines that she has a whole harem of her own —

  Ember shudders, suddenly overtaken by the image of a half-dozen Ishazas at her beck and call. One to kiss her, two more for her breasts, a fourth for her sodden sex, another to bring her tea and the sixth to keep the rest warm…

  Ishaza asks more questions. She gives her the rote answers she’s already memorized from her homework as her gaze drifts back to the subtle rise and fall of Ishaza's breasts, how they push out a little more with each inhale and settle with each exhale. She can even see the slight dimples of Ishaza's nipples against the fabric of her dress.

  Eventually Ishaza drifts into lecturing on the more modern history of the guild, but the words are fuzzy and faraway. She’s just in the middle of imagining Ishaza using her tail to fuck her when Ishaza’s words finally penetrate the haze of desire that’s built up around her.

  "I think that's enough for the lesson for today."

  Ember’s still occupied with Ishaza’s breasts. They look so nice to grab…

  Then she parses the words and a stab of fear goes through her. Ishaza only does that when she's completely missed a question — fuck, she's been staring at her breasts this whole time, too —

  "Yes, Courtesan," she says by rote.

  "You are dismissed," Ishaza says. "Put away the tea setting before you return to your dormitory." She gets up and walks away, her tail swaying behind her with the sashaying motion of her hips.

  Ember watches Ishaza’s ass as she walks away, her breath coming fast in her chest. Then she looks down at the tea service on its small table.

  "Okay," she says to herself quietly. "I've got this. I've — got this. It's okay. Just a few more hours."

  She picks herself up off her knees, and takes the teapot and teacup with her.

  ~*~

  Ember steps into the common room ready for a fight — or, well, at least a teasing battle — but much to her surprise, she's greeted by Fianna rather than Maeve.

  "Hey," Fianna says with a wave of her hand from the pillow pit, a smile creasing her unfairly pretty face. "How's it going?"

  Ember takes a breath, keeping her gaze off of Fianna’s slender hips and slight breasts. "Alright. Do you know where Maeve is?"

  Fianna shrugs, and runs a hand through her chestnut hair. "Last I heard she got called into town on some errand or other. I don't know what's up." She shakes her head. "How are you holding up?"

  "Doing alright, I guess," Ember says. "I was all psyched up for a big confrontation, but I guess something more important came up..." She shakes her head, feeling the heat in her, the pulsing need in her sex. "I'm almost disappointed." She might have gotten to fuck her… no, bad thought.

  Fianna shrugs. "I mean, look on the bright side. If she doesn't come back she can hardly accuse you of avoiding her." She spreads her hands. "If you wanted to be sporting you could wait for her with me. Maybe I could brush your hair, like we talked about yesterday?"

  Ember exhales, and nods. "Yeah. I hardly want to just disappear on her." Her body is flushed and warm, but she's okay. She can afford to wait a little. "I'd love my hair brushed." The feeling of having someone stroke their hands through her hair would be perfect right now. Though having them touch other pces might be even better…

  "Come sit down, then," Fianna says. "I'll just go grab my brush." She goes and ducks into her room, returning moments ter with a silver-handled hairbrush filled with stiff bristles. She sits cross-legged in the pillow pit next to Ember, and beckons Ember to y her head in her p.

  After a second or two of deliberation, Ember ys her head down in Fianna's p, facing away from her toward the kitchen. "Thanks," she murmurs. The heat in her swells at the touch of skin on skin, but it’s alright. She’s just getting her hair brushed.

  "Don't mention it," Fianna says. Her fingers carefully uncsp Ember's butterfly hairpin, undoing her ponytail; she sets the pin aside, then settles the brush in Ember's hair and begins to stroke it through slowly, one stroke after another, brush after brush along her sensitive scalp.

  It's good. Calming. Her whole head fills with warm tingles at Fianna's gentle brushing, and her breath slows and stills. She closes her eyes after a few minutes. She feels rexed. Warm. Cared for.

  The warmth in her is a little more insistent now, given all the gentle touches Fianna's giving her, but it's hardly her fault. She’s just feeling the aphrodisiac. That’s all.

  After a few minutes, Fianna sets down the hairbrush and starts to just pet Ember's scalp, her nails digging in gently along the nape of Ember's neck and the top of her head.

  "You're really cute when you're like this," Fianna murmurs. "It's like you're a cat all curled up in my p."

  Ember lets out a pleased mmmm and nestles a little more into Fianna. She likes that image. Maybe Fianna could put a colr on her next? She’s read in Laenan some people are into that…

  "Aww, adorable..." Fianna smiles. "Do you mind if I pet your back a little?"

  Ember gives a soft, approving mmm. It's nice to be touched by Fianna...

  Fianna's hand slips down Ember's back, and starts to stroke back and forth along her spine, feeling each bump in it through her shirt. "Good girl," Fianna says. "Good, good, good girl." She rubs and strokes at Ember's shoulders and back, fingers wandering across her skin.

  Ember sighs hard, and rubs her thighs against each other. It's hard to keep from drifting off into fantasies. Maeve kissing her feet, Fianna groping her breasts, Camellia eating her out... Why not all of them at once... She could kiss at Ishaza’s gorgeous breasts while she was at it…

  Slowly, her mind drifts off into a happy nd of heavy petting where she's pampered and adored by everyone. Heat and bliss tangle together in her head, images of hands in her hair, on her breasts, stroking her clit, grabbing her ass…

  "Very good girl," Fianna coos. She keeps petting, soft and gentle, her hands steady in their rhythmic strokes.

  The more Fianna pets her, the more Ember's imagination gets away with her. Her dreamworld grows in eboration, starting to involve multiple copies of her fellow students and teacher. Ishaza petting her hair and telling her she's a good girl while Camellia eats her out... Fianna reaching down and stroking her pussy as well... Maeve coming back and sitting on her face...

  Her hand presses in between her thighs, and she grinds against it gently, her head full of warm and needy thoughts. It feels wonderful, soft waves of pleasure rolling over her body as she rubs herself through the thin cloth of her dress.

  Fianna just smiles. “Such a lovely girl. Doesn’t it feel so good?”

  Ember lets out another nguorous sigh. “Yeah…”

  “I can think of a way it’d be better, though,” Fianna continues. “Wouldn’t it be so nice to have sex?”

  “Yeah…”

  Another voice drifts into her awareness.

  "Wouldn't it be so nice to fuck Maeve?" it says quietly. "To press your cunt to her thigh and grind until you saw stars? To be one with her? To be taken by her? Wouldn't that be so wonderful?"

  Ember lets out a long sigh. "Yeah," she says dreamily. "That would be so wonderful." Images of Maeve touching her all over run through her mind, kissing at her breasts, stroking her between her legs, slipping her fingers inside her…

  "Do you want that?" the voice asks. "Right here, and now?"

  Now that she thinks about it, it sounds sort of like Maeve...

  "Yeah," Ember says softly. "I so do."

  "Then," Maeve's voice continues, "Let's."