SMASH or PASS

Chapter 59: Chapter Fifty-Nine: Mana Needle

Third week.

I was in combat class.

Instructor Vance had moved to practical exercises.

Students paired up for mana projection drills. Each pair projected at a practice target: a stone block enchanted to absorb impacts and display force readings on a small gauge.

Dorian went first. He was paired with a noble woman.

’Tsk... no matter how I think about it I really don’t like him.’

I just really didn’t like him, wonder why?

Boom!!!

His mana projection hit the stone. A wide beam with blue-white light.

The stone cracked. The gauge showed high numbers.

"Excellent," Instructor Vance said. "Third Rank projection quality from a First Rank student."

Dorian returned to his position. His face didn’t change.

Excellent was his baseline I guess.

My turn.

The whole class was watching.

Several women leaned forward. Everyone expected the flicker: the half-second embarrassment from the entrance exam.

"Imagine them naked..." was the usual advice for crowd anxiety, right?

Well, I don’t really need to imagine as I have already seen, and fucked 90% of the women here.

Except for instructor Vance and some others... huh. Now to mention it, it is weird that I didn’t crack her yet.

I pointed my palm towards the stone.

I didn’t project a beam like Dorian.

I projected a ’thread’.

The mana needle. Mana compressed through a channel thinner than a hair. Total energy: tiny. Visible light: almost none. A thin blue-white line ran from my palm four meters to the practice target.

The thread hit the target.

It went through.

In one side, out the other. Three inches of practice stone, completely penetrated.

The gauge flickered, confused. Calibrated for wide-beam impacts, it didn’t know how to measure a puncture.

The whole class became quiet.

Instructor Vance walked to the target. She examined the entry point. Walked behind and examined the exit. She touched the hole. Her finger went in to the first knuckle.

"What technique is that?"

"Mana concentration. Chapter seven of the Fundamentals textbook. Professor Aldric Morne."

"That Chapter is supplementary reading."

"I read ahead."

She stared at me. Recalculating. The student with the lowest mana output had demonstrated higher material penetration than the Third Rank noble who’d cracked the target.

"The crack," she said, pointing at Dorian’s target, "is wide. Impressive force distribution. Standard projection."

She pointed at mine. "The puncture is narrow. Maximum penetration per unit." She touched the hole again. "This is not taught at this academy. Where did you learn practical application?"

"I extrapolated from the Chapter."

"Extrapolation doesn’t produce this level of precision." She crossed her arms. "I want to run additional assessments. Private sessions. I need to understand the parameters."

Aaaand Yup. Here we go.

"When?"

"I’ll submit the request through the department chair." She picked up a stone chip from the exit point. "For the record, your projection quality per unit exceeds anything I’ve measured in a First Rank student. while the total output is garbage. The efficiency is very high."

"Is that good?"

"That depends entirely on who finds out about it." She glanced at the door. "The academy files performance reports. Those reports are reviewed by oversight, which includes Thornguard recruitment and..." She paused. "Other organizations."

The Covenant of Purity. She didn’t say it.

"I understand."

"I hope you do." She gathered her materials. "And stop punching holes in my targets. The enchantment costs 50 gold per block."

"Sorry."

"No you’re not. Get out of my classroom."

Dorian had watched the entire demonstration. His target had a crack. Mine had a hole. A crack was damage. A hole was penetration. Different categories.

He looked at the hole. Looked at me.

"Interesting technique." His voice was flat. "Compensating for deficiency with precision. The approach of someone who has no other option."

"It worked."

"On a PRACTICE target. Practice targets don’t move. They don’t hit back. They don’t have mana shields." He picked up his bag. "I’ll be curious to see if your needle works on something that can bleed."

’Your two future wives count?’

He walked out. The class watched him go. The energy had shifted. The commoner who’d been collecting women had just demonstrated that his terrible mana output could do something the best mage in the class couldn’t.

◇◇◇

I walked out. Through the courtyard. Late afternoon light.

Fenra was at the gate. She saw my face. Whatever she read made her ears go forward. She pressed her nose against my hand longer than usual for three full seconds.

"Something happened."

She wagged her tail in a small, questioning manner.

"I punched a hole through a practice target with mana output that registers as barely above zero."

She wagged again. Bigger. Approving. She didn’t understand the technique. She understood the result: her human had done something strong. Something that mattered.

She pressed against my side. Close. Closer than she’d been in weeks.

We walked home through the evening streets. The market was closing up. Rose’s bakery had its shutters down. The guild hall’s lights were on for the evening shift. A few women on the street turned their heads as I passed.

Pixia spoke from my collar, quiet. "You showed them the needle."

"I had to eventually."

"You didn’t HAVE to. You chose to. In front of two hundred witnesses." She kicked her tiny legs. "The instructor will file a report. The report goes to the department chair. The chair sends it to oversight. Oversight includes the Covenant. The Covenant representative is the woman in white." Pause. "You just gave her more information."

"I know."

Fenra pressed closer against my side. Her tail wagged. Small but steady. The needle demonstration had changed something. For the first time in weeks, I’d come home carrying something other than sex perfume. I carried achievement. Combat progress.

’Wolfkin respected strength highly as I remember...’

I smiled as I patted her head.

Fenra’s wag got slightly bigger. She pressed her head against my hip.

At the apartment, she followed me inside and lay on the bed. Her side. The gap was still there. But it was narrower tonight.

Everything was moving. Some of it toward me. Some of it around me. Some of it, I suspected, against me.

But I feel a little relaxed now. For some reason.

I closed my eyes. Fenra’s breathing steadied beside me.

Sleep came eventually...

...Until I felt something hot and wet around my dick.

◇◇◇

In the deep, black well of sleep, I felt it. A soft, wet, living heat enveloping the head of my dick.

Gentle, at first. Almost tentative. Then bolder. A slick, swirling pressure. A soft pop as it pulled back, then the deep, engulfing slide as it took me deeper.

"Schlorp~..."

My body reacted before my mind did, hardening in the warm, practiced mouth. A low groan escaped my lips.

"Mmmh~ Glup~"

The sounds were shameless, lewd, and even theatrical in the dark. A hungry, wet sucking, punctuated by little hums and gulps. "Ngh-ah~ Slurrrp~"

I forced my eyes open, blinking in the dim moonlight from my window.

"....!?"

Pixia.

But not the tiny, centimeters-tall, wise-cracking fairy mentor. This was a full-sized woman, naked and glowing faintly with a soft blue light, her head bobbing in my lap. Her long, white hair spilled over my thighs. Her pointed ears twitched with each movement of her jaw.

"P-Pixia...?" My voice was a sleep-thickened rasp.

She pulled off with an obscenely loud, wet "POP~!" A string of saliva connected her glistening, pink tongue to my tip. She looked up, and her face was a picture of whorish delight. Her usual sharp, knowing eyes were glazed, her lips swollen.

"You were so... tense, Noel~" she purred, her voice was the same, but huskier, dripping with a new, sinful cadence. "All that stress from those mean human women~" She gave the head a long, flat lick. "Laaaaaaaaap~" "I thought I should... relax you~"

Before I could form a coherent thought, she dove back down, taking me so deep I felt her throat open. "GURK! GULP-GULP-GULP~!" The swallowing sounds vibrated through my entire body. She was sucking me like a starved succubus, with none of her usual grace, all frantic hunger and wet, noisy enthusiasm.

Her hands clutched at my hips, her nails sharp and faintly glowing, digging in just enough to sting. "Nnnnghyeah~! So big! So tasty~!" she moaned, the words muffled by my flesh. "I wanted to taste this for soooo long~! Ever since I met you~!"

She switched techniques, bobbing her head fast and sloppy, letting spit fly. "Schlick-schlick-schlick-SLURP~!" Each sound was punctuated by a breathy, whorish gasp. "Hah! Hah! Do you like it? Do you like how I suck your big, fat cock~? Glrrrk~!"

I was powerless. My hands found her head, tangling in her silken white hair, holding her as she devoured me. She looked up, meeting my eyes as she deep-throated me again, and her expression was one of pure, blissed-out submission. A fairy older than kingdoms, a being of wisdom and guidance, reduced to a drooling, cock-drunk slut in my bed.

She was right about one thing. I wasn’t tense anymore. All I could feel was the building, volcanic pressure in my core, and the symphony of her slutty, worshipful mouth.

The sight of her, Pixia, my ancient, usually-so-proper fairy guide, transformed into a blue-skinned, drooling cock-sleeve was too much. The theatrical, exaggerated slurps and gulps, the complete surrender in her glazed eyes, it shattered the last of my control.

My hands, already tangled in her silken white hair, tightened into fists. I held her there, locked on my dick, and thrust my hips up off the bed, fucking up into that wet, welcoming heat of her throat.

"Nnngh!" she gagged, her eyes widening for a second before rolling back in pure ecstasy.

"Swallow it," I growled, the command ripped from me.

She didn’t need telling. Her throat convulsed around me, milking, begging for it. With a final, guttural groan, I came. I erupted deep into her gullet, pulse after hot, thick pulse shooting directly down her esophagus.

She tried to swallow it all, her throat working frantically. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. But it was too much, too fast. A thick, white rivulet burst from her left nostril, tracing a lewd line down her blue cheek before dripping onto my stomach. She didn’t pull away. She kept sucking, kept swallowing, taking every last drop until I was spent and soft.

I finally released my grip on her hair. She pulled off with a final, wet, exhausted "Pwah~", a thick rope of spit and my cum still connecting her ruined lips to my tip. She panted, her chest heaving, the glowing blue tattoos on her skin seeming to pulse. The cum from her nose dripped onto her exposed, stiff nipple.

I didn’t let her rest. I rolled us over, pushing her down onto her back on the mattress. She went willingly, spreading her legs before I even asked. Her pussy was already glistening, a neat, pink slit against her blue skin.

But I wasn’t going there yet. I moved behind her, getting on my knees. I grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her stomach, then pulled her up onto her knees. Her ass was presented to me.

Two perfect blue orbs, soft and full. A faint, intricate glow emanated from the skin.

I raised my hand and brought it down in a sharp, stinging slap.

SMACK!

The sound was crisp in the quiet room. A bright, glowing handprint bloomed on her right cheek. She yelped, a high, surprised "Kyya~!", then pushed her ass back toward me, a wordless plea for more.

"Such a greedy little fairy," I muttered, my voice rough. I traced the outline of the handprint with my fingertips, then slid them down the cleft of her ass, teasing the tight, winking pucker of her backdoor. She shivered, a full-body tremor.

My other hand went lower, brushing through the soft, downy fur at the apex of her thighs, finding her soaked slit. I rubbed two fingers along her outer lips, gathering her slickness. She moaned, low and needy, pressing back against my hand.

"So wet," I murmured, bringing my slick fingers back up to circle her asshole. "All this, just from sucking my dick? You really are a slut, aren’t you?"

"Y-yes~!" she gasped, her face buried in the sheets. "I’m a slut! A slut for your big, fat, delicious cock~! Nnngh~ Please..."

I kept teasing, circling both holes, spreading her slickness, watching her squirm and beg, her blue ass glowing in the moonlight, a perfect, shameless offering. The night was far from over, and my ancient fairy mentor had just become my newest, most depraved plaything.

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