((Crossposted and compiled from other areas of the Forum))
Chapter 1 Schoolyards

?I need two more Blood Juice Boxes,? Parisa smiled at the vampiric twins who stood patiently awaiting their treats. She wasn?t quite sure how the immortals were born as her understanding of the vampire lineage was spotty at best but thankfully History was not her subject. Trying to teach children about their heritage in a world as multihued as this one was an impossible feat. But then again, as her throbbing feet could attest to, teaching them the socialization skills necessary to survive in a peaceful cohabitation was no mean feat either.

?Right away, Miss Reese.? The lunch attendant herded the small pale children in the direction of the lunch counter and Reese decided this looked like a perfect opportunity to escape the din of the auditorium turned lunch room.

Threading her way through the rows of children busily seeing to their nutritional needs, Reese nodded to the smaller denizens as they were her particular charges. She had started teaching at RhyDin Elementary her first year outside of Elyria?s boundaries and was no longer surprised by the variety of ?foodstuffs? that surrounded her. She couldn?t begin to fathom how they managed to assemble all of the ingredients on a daily basis, taking into account all the special diets and dangerous allergies. Clearly labeled danger signs were not enough when dealing with the youth and dozens of Food Specialists moved amongst the children to make sure that there were no accidents.

?No, no Charlie, use the plastic utensils sweetie, that?s silver.? The furry young man in question growled his understanding as he fought to regain his human form after a near brush with painful consequences.

Reese smiled in gratitude at the woman who assisted him before sliding her hand across the sensor that allowed her entrance and departure from the cafeteria. The hallway was blessedly quiet and empty. Taking the familiar path toward the Teacher?s Lounge, Reese walked past the classrooms of her cohorts with the quickened pace of a person on their lunch hour. Her time was already diminished by the detour into the cafeteria but her two newest charges needed a little extra attention to help them adjust. She arrived at the door and repeated the same motion before the sensor to gain entrance.

The hustle and bustle of the lounge poured out around her in a gentle cacophony of murmuring voices, a cough there, a laugh here, a murmuring sigh, and the physical movement of a body of people. Decorated to resemble an old hunter?s lounge, (the questionable taste of a previous Dean) the room had always been slightly off-putting to Reese. Furs and hides decorated the floor, the huge hearth?large enough that two grown men could easily stand inside it?blazed with a fire that should?ve been cheery but seemed like something out of a grim fairytale. Hanging above the mantle was the portrait of the founding father, a dismally dark painting made more daunting by the disapproving glare that clung to his features. Tables and chairs had been added over the years in various ages of popular design and there existed a haphazard collection of couches, chaise lounges, and bean bag chairs as well. A flame-haired man turned at the sight of her and hurried in her direction on short legs.

?Reese.? Mr. Humphries? smile flashed golden at the sight of one of his favorite coworkers and Reese couldn?t help but return his grin, crouching down to give the leprechaun a quick hug.

Page 3

She watched him while he ate. His hair had grown so long since their elopement. Long hair was generally frowned upon in Elyrian society and she wondered if he wore it that way as a display of his continued defiance. Perhaps she?d ask him about it tonight when she ran her fingers through it as they lay in bed together. She enjoyed it. Though the facial hair he chose to adopt was less pleasing. His brown beard had a tendency to catch food in it and she found herself engaging in kissing with less frequency now that it came with the sensations of odd smells, textures, and sometimes even tastes.

?You?d better get a move on, lunch is just about over. You were late to begin with.? He encouraged even as he hastily spooned the deliciously creamy soup in between words.

She felt guilty for her idle thoughts made more censoring by her inner shudder at his lack of manners. The sandwich unwrapped and a half claimed. Sliding the other half toward him she was surprised by his quick grab, ?Thanks honey, a man couldn?t ask for a better wife.?

His wink would have been sweeter if she hadn?t noticed the soup that clung to his beard. She was about to offer him her napkin when he waved a hand in response to the imperious wave of his Department Chair. ?Gotta run. Looks like we?re going to have a team building meeting.? The possible responses tickled her lips but none were actually voiced as she watched him cross the lounge to become a part of a mingling group of people. She knew he would be filled with details tonight over dinner. The usual grousing one reserved for their bosses was a familiar subject as she could commiserate with his growing frustration. A quick glance at the clock revealed that her lunch hour was in its last minutes. Another glance revealed the empty state of her bowl of soup.

She took a few bites of the sandwich before hastily cleaning up her spot. Washing the bowl in the sink and setting it in the strainer for Mr. Humphries. She washed down the gritty flavor left by the homemade bread with the metallic flavored water that seemed commonplace in the Old Temple District.

Lunch behind her, Reese took the stairs as fast as her pencil skirt would allow. She had hoped to have a few minutes of prep before her class was returned from lunch but from the volume of noise coming from her classroom she knew she was already too late. Entering her door she smiled at the young assistants who nodded in relief at her appearance and quickly made their exits. Her class was chaos.

Bringing her hands up over head she clapped them together sharply once and then brought them to her lips, the universally accepted signal for silence and attention. It took a few minutes as they continued to converse in a variety of languages, the dull roar subsiding to reveal a few lone voices that soon quieted to the pressure of distinction.

Page 5

The school building was practically empty. She was one of the last to leave as the parent?s meeting had taken an hour to successfully orchestrate to a satisfying conclusion. Reese was one of the few teachers employed at RhyDin Elementary who did not mind meeting with parents. The horror stories of teachers disemboweled for offending a protective mother were only trumped by the equally terrifying accounts of teachers never seen again. The school employed many healers and insisted that one be in attendance as both helpmate and witness. This, combined with the contracts prospective parents signed had lessened the more dire outcomes; but still, most teachers were content to work with the students in the short time that they had them and pretend to know nothing of their home lives. In the melting pot that was RhyDin chances for miscommunication or possible misunderstandings ran extremely high.


?I must say you handled that Drow Priestess with surprising flair.? The grey-haired half-elf chortled as they exited the building together.

?Thank you, Gloria. I appreciate you staying after to see me through yet another parent?s meeting.? Reese sighed as she strung the handle to her bag over her shoulder.

?I wouldn?t miss it for an enchanted golem lover.? Gloria?s chortle turning into a snort, ?How did you know to point out that Charrlaine just wanted that little drowess? approval of her manipulating the assignment into a gain??

?Because that?s all these kids ever want, Gloria. Approval and acceptance.? A flicker of her father?s glower brought an uncomfortable shudder.

?Well they certainly made fast friends after that revelation. I can?t imagine the play date between the two of them. Succubus and Drowess playing with dolls? It gives me the willies.?

?Oh Gloria! Stop it!? Though Reese did have to laugh at the image of voodoo dolls, ?This kind of ethnocentrism is exactly what I?m trying to fix!?

?Oh I know! Trust me I know! Saint Parisa will solve the world?s ills one childish squabble at a time.?

?Poke fun at me all you want Gloria. But this is RhyDin. Differences should be celebrated not fought over. And besides, isn?t it all a childish squabble?? Making a hand motion toward the political signs that still clung to the walls that enclosed the school for safety.

?Oh so right you are, so right you are!? Gloria shook her head at her earnest companion even as she ran her hand over the scanner that would allow them to depart the school?s grounds. The rumbling sound of the giant wall so commonplace neither took note of it as they passed through. ?Where?s your husband?? She hesitated before heading toward her home nearer the West End.

?He went on home when he realized I had to stay after. Our garden needed tending and he wanted to get a head start on grading papers.?

A frown, ?You?re not walking home alone then are you??

?Gloria. I?ll be fine.? A hint of exasperation as she headed northward toward the bridge with a wave to her friend.

?Are you not headed home?? Gloria called after her, concern edging her voice up an octave.

?No, I?m headed to the Market District to run a few errands.?

?You be careful lass and keep an eye out, I think we?re in for a storm!?

?I will be! I promise!?

Gloria watched the young earnest woman make her way down the cobblestoned streets for a moment before with a shrug she shifted into a form more suitable for travel. A bird?s cry following Parisa.

The warm water beckoned.

Her shoes had been discarded upon the rack at the door and now she hooked her fingers in her pantyhose, peeling them off her hips and downward. Carefully she smoothed and rolled the nylons for they were one of her few remaining pairs and she didn?t dare risk a run in them. Soaking them in the warm water, she added chamomile and lavender extract from her garden. It took only a few minutes to wash them, wring them out and hang them over the line. Her skirt and blouse were removed and hung up as well. Soaping a cloth in the warm scented water she began scrubbing the nubile length of her youthful body in gentle circular motions.

The drag of the cloth across her sensitive skin drew with it a shiver and upon its passage revealed its journey by the prickling of her flesh. Slick, the moist path trailed over her skin, highlighted by the crackling flames of the fire. She could see her reflection in the kitchen window she stood before and found herself stunned by how?wanton?she looked.

Curiosity flared and she slid the wet towel beneath the small globes of her left breast, lifting it in her grasp and dragging along its perky circumference. Her nipple peaked and a gasp parted her suddenly dry lips. She repeated the motion on her right breast and felt her heart rate quicken in response.

Dipping the cloth back in the sink full of still steaming water she squeezed out the excess and sat it upon her thigh, one small foot perching upon the stool. Down, over her thigh, cupping her knee, and sliding down her calf, she stroked the soapy warmth in a massaging squeeze of her towel draped hand. A sigh of pleasure whispered from her, as she shifted to repeat the same routine upon her other leg. A glimpse of a red skinned hand had her eyes drifting shut. Slowly she stroked upward, the warm wet drag of the cloth gaining purchase high upon her spread thighs. In her mind?s eye she saw Aukai, pictured his broad crimson chest, his soulful eyes, and his surprisingly wicked smile. Higher the cloth climbed. Her hand trembling now as her breath caught and held, her lower lip curling into her mouth, caught between her teeth.

The first brush of the cloth along the delicate apex of her thighs had her jerking forward on a rocking motion of her hips, a gasp tearing her lip free as her mouth parted abruptly. Bracing her free hand upon the lip of the counter, she gave into the urge to rock herself against that warm, wet, heat. Dragging the textured weave of the cloth as she pictured ?. Aukai.

She was quiet, the only sounds coming from the kitchen the softly rapid intakes of her breath and even as she climaxed she made but one small whimper. Shuddering, hips jerking and hand falling away as she slowly collapsed onto the stool. Mortification stained her cheeks a vibrant pink.

She?d never?

?the boldness of her actions had her writhing in internal agony of embarrassment aided by the carnal impurity of her thoughts. Guiltily she cast a look upon her sleeping husband and ricocheted out of her seated position to hastily finish her nightly routines.



Later, as she coaxed Weland to their bed she was relieved when he rolled over as soon as he hit the mattress. Her body still tingling and replete she fell into a deep slumber in which her dreams were painted a claret hue.

Height lessened, the swirling form of obsidian horns that spiraled from silken claret locks descending between her parted legs, fingers manipulating longing touches against her flesh on the way to his knees. The warm zephyr of his aroused exhaled caressed her thighs, teasing the span of flesh that lingered above the tops of her stockings with the tranquil draft that flowed between. The rush of excitement at his teasing gust of breath sent jolts racing through her and she did all she could to keep from falling back, fighting through the quiver of weakening arms to remain upright.

Fascinated by the sight of those sinister horns, she couldn?t help but watch as they swayed and swung with the touch of his lips against her thighs. The sight of them revived her strength and she sat up, reaching out to stroke those sable pikes. They were smooth like marble and made her fingertips tingle with charged energy. She traced their spiraling shape from tip to base, beckoning a moan from the mouth that nipped and kissed at her pulsating mons. The forked tongue that lapped across the thin veil of her panties raked harder, causing her fingers to clench and grip those horns as though handles, keeping her steady through the building euphoria that consumed her body.

The deft proficiency of tongue and lips were able to cast aside those lacy things, bending them to the side to expose her damp cleft to his eager mouth. Now, unveiled and unguarded, he split those velvet folds and delved inside, the length of his tongue applied until lips of different origin embraced.

Her head fell back as bolts of pleasure shot through her, the hold upon his sable horns the only thing keeping her upright,. Forced apart, her sheath clenched against his invading tendril, betraying any sense of reason with the undulation of hips to involve him further. Her legs draped across the masculine horizon of his shoulders, clenching and flexing with the pulsation of elation. Racked by turbulent release again and again, the growing pace of his licking efforts had her strangling sanity as much as control.

The pleasure was immense. Never had she felt a surge so strong. It was as though this desire was a living thing, a symbiotic twin to her that needed her compliance to survive. But more so, she wanted to comply. She wanted to see it grow and built, to become strong and fervent. The pleasure, the passion, seemed addictive and required, like breath and water. She couldn?t explain it; her mind a dizzying tempest of yearning.

All that she knew was that she wanted it. Wanted it now. Wanted it to never end.

As the final eruption shuddered her hips and stole her strength she fell back onto the desk, panting for breath, her firm and ample breasts causing the frilly garment that held them to rise and fall. She closed her legs, wanting to feel his crimson warmth and strength, and yet there was nothing there but space. She whimpered like a child and slowly parted her eyes to stare longways across the classroom.

Standing beside her, easily within reach, was the flawless perfection of crimson flesh. She looked first at his cream eyes, which were half-lit with heavy arousal. Her gaze descended quickly, though, falling along the chiseled lines of his chest and stomach to fasten upon the engorged pike that protruded from the apex of his hips. Throbbing, the upswept organ exuded a potent promise to deliver the most salacious pleasure.

Lazily she shifted, reaching out to enwrap the powerful stalk with her slim fingers. She wanted to touch it, to handle the weapon that would conquer the kingdom of her lust and ultimately force her surrender to the devastation it entailed.

Just as her fingernails scraped along the cylindrical length her hand was caught by the wrist and held fast, denying her caress. Again she whimpered, another juvenile irritation, but when she struggled for a closer touch she was deprived of the capture.

?What?? She whispered. ?What must I do to have you??

The Carnal Prince stepped forward, guiding her grasping hand to the side so that he could close the distance between them without gifting her with the touch that she so desperately sought. His other hand fell to her temple and gently brushed away the strands of beautiful flaxen hair that masked her alluring visage. Her gaze was uncovered, those brilliant jewels looking up at him as he bent at the waist, a measured descent that brought his face above hers. Her lips were sampled as the hand that stroked her face drifted away to firmly take hold of her right breast through her bra, the tip of his index finger dipping beneath to torment her taut nipple. His taste was that of her flesh, that of her sex, the tangy flavor of heat and release. She kissed him back, intoxicated by his offering, curling her free hand around the back of his head, fingers twining through sleek red hair, never wanting him to depart.

The kiss lasted forever yet was over far too quickly. He pulled back, breaking the embrace of lips whilst finger and thumb pinched her sensitive nub. She arched her back, into and away from the harsh touch all at once, and whimpered a painful sound. Her eyes, large and blue, stared up at him, wanting him to stop. Wanting him to finish.

?Show me.? He hissed against her mouth with the brush of lips and tongue. ?Show me how you would have it.?

She gasped, exhilaration flowing through her. She wanted nothing more than to show him. She arched upward to again claim a kiss, yet was surprised when all that she found was open air.

He was no longer beside her but back where he originally stood, perhaps even a step farther back so that she couldn?t touch him even if she were to reach.

?Not with me.? He said evenly, though the curl of such a fiendish smile told a story beyond stoic balance.

?Then with who?? She moaned, her hand extended, raking the distance between in hopes of just a touch. Just a glance.

?Him.?

?Him who??

?Parisa??

Parisa sat straight up, blinking rapidly to extinguish the residual haze of slumber. No longer was she in her classroom, but in a bedroom.

Her bedroom.

In her bed.

The heavy comforter spilled away to reveal her svelte form encased in her satiny nightgown.

?Parisa.? She heard the voice again, transcending the distance between her boudoir and the front door. ?I?m home.?

?Weland.? She whispered, and in that breath inhaled the soothing scent of cinnamon.

The man introduced himself as a psychiatrist, Dr. Shilo and revealed his connection to none other than Cameo Robinson.

Taking a moment to straighten the lines of her skirt and to run her fingers nervously over the pearl buttons that closed her sedate blouse, Parisa found herself hovering near the bookshelf she'd paused to straighten despite her invite to him to join her. He was incredibly handsome. His clothing obviously expensive and tailored for a body that was kept incredibly fit. Perceptive eyes gazed with piercing intensity from behind eyeglasses that probably cost as much as her house payment.

As he settled into the offered seat he began with an explanation, "I've been hired to offer my services to Cameo Robinson and am on a fact-finding mission, if you will. I thought it best to visit her place of employment, to speak with her friends and--"

"Oh we're not friends." Parisa quickly interjected and then felt a rush of heat stain her cheeks at the intensity of his questioning look. The memory of Cami's name upon her husband's lips so shortly after he had...had..she pulled her mind from it. Faltering, she sought explanation, "Well, I mean we are, but not in any real sense." She was making it worse judging by the quiet contemplation of the hawk-eyed psychiatrist, "I mean we work together. We're co-workers. And we're acquaintances. And we're quite friendly."

She swallowed, "Friendly at work." A breathy sigh, "But not outside of work. We don't really associate. Do you see what I mean?" She finally ended her nervous expulsion, unaware that she'd been wringing her hands.

"Of course." He responded in an urbane and soothing tone, "Why don't you join me?" Motioning to the seat across from him and somehow managing to maneuver himself to the position of host within her own classroom. Obediently she found herself relinquishing the role to him quite willingly as she settled into the seat directly across from him. "And explain to me, in more detail, what you mean. Just so I'm sure."

She lost track of her own words. Her halting voice rarely rising above a soft sound just above a whisper. She didn't mean to mumble, and certainly wasn't trying to evade. She wasn't even sure what she was saying as she simply tried to give him an answer that would appease the spotlight intensity of his gaze: "I don't really engage in the gossip, Doctor, it's not my place to ponder at her actions and one never knows what truth there is to the conjecture."

"So she was involved with someone then?" He had zeroed in on something in her tangent that had drawn his attention.

"Well, I couldn't say for certain. I wouldn't dare offer an untruth, I know what people are saying about her...her..indiscretions..but I just don't--" The sudden thought of Weland being one of those indiscretions had her throat constricting.

"But people believed Miss Robinson was engaged in several relationships with other staff members?" His voice remained perfectly modulated, encouraging her to confide.

"I..I..." She couldn't escape the images that were assaulting her. A claret background providing a canvas for the sinful imaginings.

The sudden sound of a mass of children moving through the hallways freed her from her stasis and she stumbled to her feet, "I'm so sorry, Doctor, but my class is returning and I really should get back to work."

"Yes. Of course." He rose with seamless fluidity, the lines of his slacks returning to grace his legs with perfect creases. A masculine hand adjusting his tie before extending in an offering toward her, "Dinner then. Tomorrow at the--?"

She cut him off again, her rudeness would later bother her as she replayed the conversation, "Oh no, I can't go to dinner with you. I'm married."

His smile was almost a gentleman's smirk, "I'm aware of your married status, Mrs. Covington, but I do believe we should continue this discussion. If dinner tomorrow night doesn't work I can have my assistant contact you to find a better time that suits."

There was something about the possessive glint in his eye that held Parisa frozen and only able to utter again, "I'm certainly sorry, Doctor, but I can't do that. I can't have dinner with another man without my husband in attendance. It just isn't done where I come from." She managed to explain even as the image of she and Weland joining this man in an elegant restaurant had her mentally in awe. They wouldn't even be able to afford the water, she was certain.

"I see." He acknowledged with a tilt to his head as if conceding her the point. As the influx of her students poured through the door he departed with a simple statement that left her unaccountably flushed, "A disappointment surely. If I have need of you again I will be by."

Distractions were children's bywords and she wasn't able to give much thought to the encounter or much else for the rest of the day.

Aukai?s influence.

The sun peeked through the window slats and Parisa found herself studying the eddying swirl of dust motes that sparkled and twisted about. Despite being fully awake in that instant, she made no effort to move. She focused on breathing as if it were the most important and single job of her day. If she could just focus on breathing she wouldn?t have to think about the events of last night.

Weland?s heavy body stirred near hers and she did not flinch. Nor did she alter her breathing as she presented the fa?ade of deep sleep. Careful so as not to wake her, he moved slowly from their bed and she held a relieved sigh until the bathroom door closed behind him.

Once alone she sat up quickly, determined to get dressed before he returned but her body protested. A stiff soreness throbbed throughout her slim body. Stifling a moan she forced herself through the unaccustomed dull ache and moved to the kitchen sink. There was no need to disrobe as for the first time in her life she?d slept naked. What was left of her favorite comfortable chemise stood as testament to her evening, the tattered remnants mocking her from her living room floor.

The running water disguised the shuffling steps of her husband and it was with some startled wonder that in the midst of her careful washing she had become his audience. She froze and stared at his beloved and bearded face, following his gaze down her body to the bruises he?d left behind.

?Reese?? He choked.

She blushed bright pink as she realized he intended to talk about what had happened last night, ?Weland.? She interrupted though she had nowhere else to take the conversation.

?I?m-Reese, I...? He took a step toward her but seemed hesitant as if he were afraid of his welcome.

Ever the obedient wife, she could not stand to see him in pain despite the source of it being remorse for her own. Dropping the cloth that she?d been using to cleanse herself, she moved toward him, her pale skin illuminated with the breaking of the dawn through their kitchen window. And there in the small cottage they?d made a home, she embraced her tortured husband and offered him sweet forgiveness without ever being asked.

Chapter 5: A Vacation

She'd been given the week off. It was rather startling to have this much free time. Ever since she and Weland had left behind Elyria they'd been struggling to survive, struggling to make ends meet. There was rarely a free moment and to find herself on leave with pay was startlingly refreshing.

The first day of her vacation she'd spent doing household chores and gardening that had been needing attention. She'd spent an hour creating a special meal for her husband only to have him return late that night with exhaustion putting him to sleep in his favorite chair before the fire, the bread the only part he'd managed to consume.

Restless, she'd cleaned up and found herself at a loss. Idle time was not welcomed and she found her thoughts constantly returning to yesterday.

Her scream had alerted the vice-principal and the leprechaun had been mightily angered by what he'd encountered. It was he that she'd have to thank for rescuing her from whatever the Principal had planned. And it was Grace who had seen to her injuries. Injuries from the night before were placed at Hardwicke's feet and in a shameful inability to explain otherwise, Weland and she had not corrected the assumptions made. With the secretary's testament already standing he was to be incarcerated when he'd gone blithering insane, babbling about demons and whores.

Parisa was quite simply relieved that his breakdown meant that he would not be going to court. There would be no trial for her to partake in as he was immediately shunted away to a mental institution.

Weland's snores drew her back from her contemplation and she sighed. They hadn't spoken. Not really. Not about anything of any importance and she couldn't help but feel that he was avoiding her. Watching her sleeping husband she wondered again at the red sheen she'd seen in his eyes and disturbed by the thought she left him to sleep there, retiring to bed alone.

Chapter 6: The Principal's Office

The bustle of the school washed over her with such a simple familiarity that she felt an urge to cry. Forcing a smile upon her lips instead she nodded to the teachers she passed. It took a moment for the tempo difference to register but when it did she paused to contemplate it.

Everybody was incredibly industrious this morning. In fact, not even Mr. Humphries did more than offer a beaming grin at the sight of her return when normally she would've spent the next ten minutes attempting to escape his hyper conversation.

Parisa entered her classroom and rounded her desk, carefully placing her stack of supplies within reaching distance. There was a neatness to her organization that spoke to her love of simplification but possessed little in the way of rigidity. She was tidy.

Taking her packed lunch with her to the teacher's lounge she made a detour by the office to gather her mail. Distracted by the pile of colorful fliers she was startled from her thoughts by the deep gravelly voice of male authority, "Miss Sarban, please bring me the files on discipline measures."

The perky new secretary bounced up from her seat, "Yes, right away, Mr. Roth."

Parisa followed the secretary's fluttering pace to the door to the inner office and there engraved upon the window was the name.

______Dominic Roth, Principal______

Through the doorway she could make out a large figure sat imposingly behind the desk. A delicate shudder took her and she felt a sweep of unease fill her.

As the door closed behind the secretary she snapped out of her dazed observation and chided herself for her reaction. She knew nothing about this man and was letting her own experience with his successor color her judgment.

Shame put a pretty bloom to her cheeks as she hurried from the office and back to the tasks she needed to accomplish before her pupils arrived. She'd need to think of someway to alleviate her guilt at her spurious judgment and soon.