Both boys were in their uniforms, crisp and clean. Linhart wished to the gods that he was wearing his combat fatigues. These long-sleeved dress shirts were spotless white and the red vests were embzoned with the image of a Phoenix, the emblem of Nexus Academy. Not appropriate clothing for wrestling in the dusty square.

  The deep red dress pants were easy to move in, but both boys had kicked off their shoes and socks at the edge of the square. Students do not wrestle with shoes on. Drystan folded his socks and pced his shoes straight and neat before turning back to the center.

  “Fighters, square up!”

  Xenia, the Stratega Fighter, approached Drystan and Linhart as they faced each other. She was close enough that Linhart could smell her. A pleasing medicinal smell. Her deep-brown skin glistened like it was covered in oil.

  Sinking to her haunches, she faced them and ordered, “Fight!”

  She’s right at eye level with it. Please, please, please go down, Linhart begged his erection.

  Drystan appeared unsure of how to start and was watching him closely. But something was wrong with the way he was standing. His stance was completely open, inviting Linhart to rush in for a grapple.

  “I’m sorry, Linhart.” He spoke in a soft voice, as they circled each other, “I don’t want to hurt you, but this is my chance to prove my worth to the Stratega.” He moved with girlish grace. This is not the Drystan he remembered.

  Then something occurred to Linhart. This was the first day of freshman year, and Drystan had absolutely no wrestling training, whereas he had two years of hard-fought experience under his belt. A smile crossed Linhart’s face. There’s nothing stopping him from making this younger, more innocent Drystan pay for the many humiliations the old Drystan had put him through.

  “It’s okay, Drystan,” Linhart said evenly, “Don’t hold back on my account.”

  Drystan reached out grabbing for his arm, but Linhart was ready. He shook off the weak grasp, and stepped behind him. Linhart reached under his armpits and joined hands behind the taller boy’s head, snapping it forward in a colr tie. Drystan stood filing about, unable to reach him. The audience was roaring their approval.

  Pcing his foot in front of Drystan’s, the two wrestlers fell face-first to the ground. Drystan hit much harder, with the weight of Linhart on top of him, and Linhart heard a cracking sound.

  Xenia, who was right there, inches away from the action, loudly decred, “First blood!” And the noise in the Pit rose to a deafening level.

  The two scrambled to their feet again, Drystan’s nose was a bloody mess. But Xenia did not pause the match to offer healing. Drystan looked shaken up but ready to try again. Linhart raced in again, his arms locking around Drystan’s waist, he lifted the taller man off the ground in one fluid motion. Drystan grabbed Linhart by the hair, pulling hard, but Linhart simply twisted his body, dropping Drystand ft on his back.

  Drystan was kicking and punching frantically, trying to get free, but strangely his strikes had no strength behind them. Huh! This was like fighting a little girl. Linhart y down atop him, spreading his weight diagonally across Drystan’s chest and shoulders. His forearm pinned one arm tight while his leg trapped the other. The pressure was steady and suffocating and Drystan was pinned to the ground for a ten-count, but Xenia still did not stop the match.

  Linhart noted with distress that his dick was still fully erect, and from this pose it was pointing straight up. Xenia leaned over him to check on Drystan, her sexy belly button and ridged abs hovered right above Linhart’s face. Her enormous tits hung down over his body, shifting and rubbing against him. From this angle, her sash only covered the center of her tits, and the tip of his dick was getting hooked on the bright purple material, somehow sliding into the tantalizing space between them. He felt precum flowing through his underwear. This is not going to end well!

  “Both fighters are still able to fight.” Xenia continued to move over top of them. Her tits were now pressed up against his thighs and his erection was poking her sternum. Her elegant hand reached out and grabbed his pants, giving his dick a squeeze as though commanding it to behave. Linhart let out a grunt of surprise.

  Linhart released his leg-lock on Drystan’s shoulder and instead wrapped his knee around Drystan’s neck. The boy did not seem to be responding much, and Linhart knew he needed to end this match before he exploded in his pants. Somehow, Xenia’s breasts dragged back to his crotch region, rubbing his bulge once more, but she still had a firm grasp on it. Her fingers pyed over the tip, and Linhart felt he could hold back no longer. Just as the flood of sensations were building to a climax, Xenia’s hand released him and tapped his leg.

  Linhart was going crazy with build-up. His balls were as blue as the sky. He released Drystan and found the boy was no longer conscious. By the way he y limp on the ground, he might’ve been knocked out a while ago. Linhart rose, listening to the whoops, hollers, and animal calls of the audience. The students had really enjoyed the action. Xenia reached for his wrist, and raised it high in the air in victory. Linhart felt a sticky substance on her fingers, and was mortified.

  “The winner is Freshman Linhart,” Xenia decred, apparently not noticing the fluid running down her hand, “Or should I say, Freshman Lionheart!” The crowd roared in approval, and Linhart marvelled at the response.

  “There will be no further csses today. Now, return to your housing quarters and prepare yourselves,” her voice shifted back to the sweet sound of instructor mode. “There will be an all-student assembly at the Lyceum at first-dark. The commander will be addressing the entire student body. Attendance is mandatory. Css dismissed!”

  Linhart was ready to walk away as well, when he noticed that Xenia still had a tight hold on his wrist. Looking down, he saw that her sash had loosened during the bout. Her deep cleavage rose in time with her breath, and he had to will himself to look her in the eye. She stared back at him, her mouth slightly open. They were the same height right now, though Linhart knew he would grow two more inches in the coming year.

  “Come with me, freshman.” She spoke to him softly and firmly. “I need to talk with you about your… man problem.”

  Linhart’s heart dropped. And he nodded to her in understanding. Just when he thought he had evaded trouble. His brain was still cloudy though, whether from horniness or the time slip, and his crotch sang a song of pressure buildup. He was in pain, but he couldn’t tell her that, so he kept his mouth shut. This is definitely a man problem!

  The healers had emerged once again, this time loading Drystan’s limp body onto the stretcher. Linhart grabbed both pairs of shoes before following Xenia to the open door ahead. He knew that this was the entrance to the subterranean fighting facilities, though he’d never been there himself. Only seniors and instructors were allowed entrance, but it seemed that that was where Xenia was guiding him.

  The door led to a sloped hallway that descended into the earth. So they entered a room that was dug surprisingly deep into the hill. Nearby, a teacher’s desk covered in papers was lit by an oil mp. Next to the desk, a number of sofas were pushed together in a square, with four Healers lounging upon them, chatting. Most of the long narrow room was occupied by two rows of medical beds which stretched to the room’s other end. There were at least ten on either side, and three of them were now occupied. The two Healers they were trailing eased Drystan into a fourth bed.

  Most of the healers appeared to be boys, though it was hard to tell with the hoods of their monastic white robes raised. Xenia sat at the desk, and gred at the Healers. All conversation stopped, white-robed figures bunched together protectively, bowing deeply.

  “How are these losers doing?” she asked, her eyes were on a boy who was straightening Drystan’s legs. His robes had fallen loose revealing a pasty-white shoulder. He hastily pulled it up again.

  One Healer pulled back his hood, revealing a youthful face with a stubbly beard and short purple hair. He reported in a no-nonsense tone, “The girls have taken medicine and will not awaken for several hours. Their bodies should be completely restored at that time.” After a brief pause, he gestured to the fourth occupant, “The attack victim is still recovering. No change since he was brought here this morning. It appears the boy was raped and beaten. His body will take much longer to heal. He is receiving wakeful medicine, as his head injuries make it unsafe to put him asleep.”

  “Hmm…” Xenia’s face clouded with anger for a moment, but then her eyes darted over to Linhart. “You’ve done all you can. Good work Healer Niels. I am ending your volunteer shift early, as you’ll need time to prepare for the all-school assembly.”

  “Thank you, Stratega Xenia.” Niels bowed again, “But should we not first care for these injured freshmen before we leave?” Niels drifted over to Linhart and put a hand to his forehead. “This one is in urgent need of release. I have some medicine which will help.”

  “No need, Healer Niels.” Xenia spoke quickly and rose to her feet. “I will treat their needs myself.”