Chapter Twenty: Graduation

Winter turned to spring and we held our Spring Festival, the first festival ever with no 'march of the littles', as there were no Bigs or littles now, just students. We still had a 'St. Circe's Behavior and Control Club', but that now consisted of two former littles, three former Bigs, and six girls from the regular student body who were either kinky or interested in the finer points of compulsion magic - I didn't ask, but I could appreciate either stance.

I fell into a holding pattern: class-gymnastics-studying; class-studying-work shift; tea time-studying-social outing. Depending on the day, things switched up a bit, but I did a lot of studying, a lot of class, and a heaping side of work for Doctor Sauvage (after I finished with A011, she decided to expand my purview to general decluttering across campus). I enjoyed my spots of Saturday tea, my 'shower time' with Cassie, my interludes with Magnus (and, occasionally, quartets with Cassie and Liam), and of gymnastics practice five hours a week.

Michelle wasn't satisfied with my progress in gymnastics, continually annoyed with my inability to do the same precision flips, turns, and feats of derring-do that she was. It made duet routines more difficult for us.

"You're in advanced gymnastics now," I pointed out. "You can do solo routines."

"Yeah, but you're my best friend in gymnastics. I want do get a good duet routine in before you graduate."

I gave her a little hug. "That's sweet," I said. "But I just don't have time. I'm not as good a gymnast as you, and I can't put in more than five hours a week. I mean... I'm pretty good, right? I'm advanced."

"You're barely advanced," Michelle said, rolling her eyes.

Mrs. Azucar's criterion for transitioning from intermediate to advanced was to complete decent routines on three different events. I'd been able to do that, and was 'adequate' by her metric - that meant very good by most standards, not embarrassing and probably pretty competitive at a high school level, but nowhere near world-class. In contrast, given her progress, Michelle could easily compete in the Olympics if she could get one in before puberty hit her like a freight train. But I was only Azucar-adequate.

I had enough on my plate, and my continued forays in gymnastics were mostly to keep my physical conditioning and agility up, as I might need those. My other notable pastime was my step-sister. Thanks to Simone and me, she'd gone from having the mindset of a typical-seeming eleven year-old (albeit with some behavioral issues) to that of a twenty-one year-old with an extra six months of prepubescent schooling slapped onto the end. Suddenly, she was surging in her classes, had ceased to get into trouble on any regular basis, and was absolutely frustrated with her lot.

"If I have to read one more Anne of Green Gables or whatever, I'm going to shoot myself," Amanda sighed.

"With what?"

"We have archery classes. I'll improvise. And the worst part? This kid body is just starting to get, you know, hormones? So now I'm starting to get urges - only, I don't think awkward kissing with tween boys is going to do it for me. I mean... that would be gross, right?"

"Pretty gross," I agreed. "They're basically kids. But if you can wait a few years, magic does some wonderful things for those St. Lovelock's boys. I promise, it won't feel weird if you let your body do the talking."

"Isn't it?" She looked at me curiously, both of us sitting on the stone bench in the greenhouse, our go-to spot for private sisterly talks. "Weird, I mean... Natalie, you're twenty-seven and you're fucking a sixteen year-old."

"Almost seventeen," I said with a blush. And that was a lie - I was sixteen and five months old, according to my school records. "And I'm not twenty-seven. Yes, technically I am, sure... but I don't feel that way in here." I tapped over my heart. "Magnus is in the same boat as me, really, just without the age-change bit. Yeah, that's a big bit, but not as big as you think. I mean... sexual mores are pretty plastic. Girls used to get married at thirteen or fourteen to guys twice their age, and today that'd be super creepy. But we're at a goddamn school for witchcraft, and with witches and warlocks, we've got our own sex thing going on. Dancing naked in the moonlight and what have you."

Amanda gasped. "You guys do that?"

"Only once," I said. "Figure of speech. Look, given the history between us, I want you to be honest with me. Amanda, is it super fucked up that I'm with Magnus, that I really like being with him? Or, for that matter, that I'm completely wild over my former roommate, and that it's probably the healthiest, most sexually-fulfilling relationship I've ever had? Considering, I mean, that I look and feel like this." I gestured to my body, thrusting my chest out for emphasis.

Amanda thought about it, kicking her little legs on the bench. "Maybe not," she said with a shrug. "You're barely bigger than me, which seems like it changes things. Because you haven't got any power over them beyond that they really, really want to fuck you. That's exactly what you need for consent - no sneaky dealing, all cards on the table, informed, enthusiastic fucking."

"That sounds so strange coming from an eleven year-old," I said.

"Eleven going on twenty-two," Amanda stated. "Good talk, sis."

"Good talk," I agreed.

It was a good thing that I liked Amanda as a person and, especially, that she seemed to be warming to me, too, because I'd need her soon enough. Graduation was fast approaching, and with it would come my confrontation with her family.

+++++

Best Behavior classes were a very different thing these days, much to Mrs. Bishop's chagrin. We were encouraged to be well-behaved, respectful, and so on - all things to usher us along our behavior plans - but no longer were we told to 'obey our betters' nor that we were the least among students. It was obviously a hard pill for her, an inveterate martinet, to swallow. But swallow it she did.

Two weeks before graduation, we were tasked with assembling the decorations and preparing for the festivities, but we invited the other girls in to take part, to add their own suggestions, artistic flourishes, and boring, repetitive labor to the task. We had banners, streamers, murals, and hundreds of little origami flowers. A group of girls had formed a yearbook committee and, cameras being forbidden on the St. Circe's campus (I hadn't known that), they had suggested that each girl submit a self-portrait for the publication, so we all worked on those, too.

There was a quarter-mile running track near the south end of campus, and we set up for the graduation ceremony there - we gussied up the bleachers with padding and seat covers for the parents, hoisted a fancy pavilion tarp above it, and built a podium out in the middle green. I was pleased to find that my old DIY skills were still very much intact, provided I was wielding tools appropriately-sized for my small hands. Mrs. Bishop and Doctor Clay were in charge of orchestrating the ceremony with the co-Headmistresses presiding.

"The parade of students will come in from the south, each girl in the uniform of her main activity," Mrs. Bishop said. "We'll have about twenty minutes of demonstrations, and then the graduating girls will don their caps and gowns over their activity uniforms."

For most girls, the activity uniforms were the same as the school uniforms. Members of the chorus, for instance, simply removed their blazers and added a little scarf with the school crest and colors. I would be wearing my gymnastics leotard, which was fine - after I put on the graduation gown, nobody would be able to tell.

"Natalie, you'll do a special demonstration of your transformation magic," Mrs. Bishop stated. "That was a big hit at the Winter Festival, and I think it'll make a good impression."

"Um," I said. "Can Tabitha do it? I... I can't for graduation."

"Why not?"

The reason, of course, was that the Bryces couldn't know that I could do any magic, let alone impressive feats of it. This reasoning, though, wasn't likely to fly with Mrs. Bishop. She just wanted to look good in front of the board. I could work with that. I sidled up to her, stood on tiptoes to reach her ear, and whispered:

"I don't want to risk the school's contract over me - my behavior plan doesn't preclude magical education, but the Bryces won't be happy about it."

"Byron Bryce? On the School Board?" Mrs. Bishop asked carefully.

"Especially him," I nodded. Byron Bryce already knew that I'd learned at least some magic, but he had no idea how advanced I was and I had no idea how much he'd relayed to his son. If I was lucky, not much.

"We don't want to annoy the School Board," she agreed. "Tabitha, I'm sure, will do adequately if she can stay sober this time."

Thus, my role in the graduation proceedings was set: march in with the gymnastics squad, doing my little routine there, put on a shirt and scarf and perform 'Lovely Circe' with the chorus (standing behind a handful of taller girls on the stands so you couldn't tell I was still in my leotard), and then don my graduation clothes and get my St. Circe's diploma (a nice addition to my BS in mathematical economics, I'm sure). After that, I'd be a ward of the Bryces... provided they saw it fit to take me.

Part of me didn't want them to. I knew there'd be fallout from Sauvage, Mrs. Bishop, and even Lily if the Bryces demanded that I stay on another year and under a harsher behavioral regime - after all, there wasn't a whole lot they could actually do to me as a Sister Witch. I could be happy here, most of my friends were a year away from graduation, too, and Michelle would probably be two years. I'd have another year of weekly trysts with Magnus (assuming I wasn't punished too severely), and I could continue my studies. As strange as it felt to admit it, delving into forbidden magical mysteries had become a far more rewarding hobby than any I'd previously had... well, perhaps second to exploring my sexuality as a blossoming young witch. But I knew that this was no real option - each day risked my secret being exposed. Rowan Bryce would eventually discover that I'd completely dismantled any semblance of my original behavior plan and that I'd strategically positioned myself to gain the skills necessary to exact revenge. If he found out, I had little doubt that he'd arrange for another 'treatment' at the hands of Doctor Heirophant, and I had no idea what the gangling man was capable of. It certainly wouldn't be good.

As graduation day approached, I worked on my transformation magic - I had to convincingly hide my tattoos. I took a final stab at learning 'Seven More Summonings'. And then I said my goodbyes. I had a final quiet tea time with Simone, Cassie, and Lily, showcasing the animated tea set that Simone and I had been tinkering with for weeks, and later that evening we spent a few hours in Walukau. Magnus took my impending graduation especially hard, pulling me into an inescapable hug and crying into my hair when it was time to depart after our final social outing of the year. It might be months before we saw one another again - months if I was lucky. If the worst happened, I'd never see any of my friends ever again.

"I don't want you to go," he said. The sun had set, but the sky was still ruddy and fading to violet.

"I don't want to go, either. But I have to, Magnus. You understand that, right?"

He kissed the top of my head. "Yeah," he said. "I understand. I... look, I made you a present. It's a couple's present, sort-of."

He pulled back from our hug and handed me an off-white piece of paper about two and a half inches on a side. I turned it over in my hands, examining the faint symbols around its edges, tracing them with my finger.

"An indelible mark, cast from the imagination, made unto flesh and embodied with a kiss," I said, interpreting them.

Magnus was surprised - not many people can just read off symbols and figure what they do, and most of those folks have a couple decades of witchcraft under their belts. I'd just read it off and, frankly, I still wasn't quite sure what it did...

"You kiss it, your love puts it against their skin, and then it makes a tattoo to remember them by. Since you have a bunch of tattoos, I thought I'd get one, too, and you can have one to remember me by."

"So I kiss it?" I said. I kissed the un-symboled side of the paper, leaving a little pink mark from my lip gloss. "And then I...?"

"Press it right here," Magnus said.

He pulled his shirt off and pointed toward the center of his chest, just above his firm pecs. I reached up and pressed it there, gasping at the flow of magic between myself, the paper, and through his being. It wasn't a very powerful effect, but he'd done a good job in crafting it. When I pulled it away, he had a small tattoo there, about the size of my palm: an auburn-copper carnation with a single pink petal contrasted against the beginnings of a brooding sky.

Magnus did likewise, kissing his paper and getting handsy for a few fun moments before finding a spot on my belly, right below my navel, that had enough unmarked real estate to place it. I felt the flow of magic again, the effect prickling against my skin, before he peeled the paper away to reveal my tattoo of him: a shield with an oak tree on it. I ran my fingers along it and sighed.

"I don't understand," he said.

"An oak and a shield - strong and protective, loyal... the shield defends, and the tree provides, it remembers... and its bark is the same color as your hair, the leaves the color of your eyes."

"I like it," he said, nuzzling my cheek. Warm wind, perfumed with the smell of jungle flowers, wafted in from up the coast. "I wish I could be there to protect you."

I ran my fingers along his tattoo again and then bent forward to kiss it. He still smelled like the oils we'd massaged one another with earlier. "I know you do. But remember: I may be the flower, my Magnus, but I'm also the storm."

+++++

Graduation day was beautiful and sunny - of course it was. At St. Circe's, the weather, like the seasons, was about as predictable as a grandfather clock. Normally, we students weren't privy to the weather - if you were very polite in asking Dr. Clay, she'd show you her charts for the next month's conditions, but students were mostly kept in the dark. But you could bet that any day with the parents in attendance, let alone the School Board, would show off as much pleasant campus beauty as possible.

The parade was scheduled to start at noon and the parents and alumni had been arriving since before dawn, their expensive cars rolling down the main avenue, dropping off their VIP passengers, and then puttering off to god-knows-where to park. I was wringing my hands and stressing in the dormitory lounge, running a brush through my hair for the thirtieth time that morning, when Mrs. Law came in to inform me that the Bryces had arrived and were waiting for me.

"I'm not ready," I said. I took the drop of blood that Amanda Bryce had supplied me earlier that morning, encased in a tiny ball of preservative 'witch wax' that Cassie had made for me, and squeezed it into my little container. I'd been over my plan twenty times already and I still had no idea whether it was going to work.

"You're as ready as you're going to be," Mrs. Law said. "And if they don't like you as much as we all do, then fuck 'em. Right?"

"Right," I said. Easy for her to say.

Mrs. Law and I walked out, walked right past the administration building, past the topiaries and little garden side-paths, past the greenhouse where Amanda had given me her blood the day before, and over to Masters hall. It being graduation day, I suppose, there were no classes and so the whole building was free.

Headmistress Sauvage was there waiting for me, with Rowan and Katherine Bryce not far behind. No Lucian Bryce to be seen - I held a glimmer of hope in my heart. Maybe he was elsewhere. The doctor nodded to Mrs. Law and shot me an unmistakable look: don't fuck this up for me, Natalie, it said. And, our interests being aligned for the moment, I really hoped I wouldn't have to.

"I present Natalie for your inspection, Mr. and Mrs. Bryce," Sauvage said. "She looks a bit different from when you last saw her, but not too terribly, on account of her excellent behavioral progress. I'm pleased to say we've gotten through to your daughter, and I'm certain you'll be satisfied with the results."

Rowan Bryce allowed himself a sneering smile, and he strolled over to take a look at me, ice-blue eyes taking me in. "I certainly hope so, headmistress," he said.

"Shall I demonstrate to you..."

"That won't be necessary," Rowan said quickly.

He paced a slow circle around me, running his fingers through the high pigtails of my hair, their lightly-curled masses tumbling down to mid-back. He flipped up my little tartan skirt long enough to make it clear he was inspecting my panties.

"How long have we got until graduation?"

"She needs to prepare in thirty-five minutes."

"And I may inspect my daughter privately?"

The doctor nodded. "Room 202 is at your disposal. Shall I accompany you?"

Rowan Bryce chuckled. "No thank you. I'll have Natalie back down here within the half hour and let you know my decision."

Sauvage nodded curtly. "I've got a lot to attend to. I'll leave Mrs. Law here to ensure that Natalie gets to where she needs to be."

With that, she left. Rowan Bryce gestured vaguely and I followed after him. There was no coercion involved there - I suppose that was part of the point, to see whether I'd willingly and obediently follow him at my own peril. I did - I didn't have much choice if I was going to pass muster - following him up the stairwell and to Ms. Sturm's classroom.

Rowan paused at the classroom door, leering down at me. "Are you excited to be coming home to live with your step-mother and I?"

"Yes, sir." I said. "I'm looking forward to graduating."

"Let us hope, then, that you've learned your place, girl. I've promised your step-brother the chance to test your mettle. Will you submit yourself to him?"

"Yes, sir," I said, my eyes downcast. "A good girl obeys her betters."

"She does," he nodded.

He put his hand upon the small of my back and escorted me into the classroom, where Lucian Bryce waited, relaxed and looking like he owned the place. He sat in Ms. Sturm's chair with his feet propped up on her oaken desk.

"Lucian, I've brought you a gift - you'll get first crack at little Natalie. Won't that be fun?"

"It will be," Lucian agreed. He advanced on me, circling around me in exactly the same way his father had minutes earlier - maybe the creepiest family trait of all time. "I can't wait to get started."

"Please, the minutes are ticking," Rowan said. He started to sit. Was he really planning on sitting a spell to watch his son rape me?

"I'm not going to do it with you here, father," Lucian said with a sigh. "I promise I'll be very thorough."

Rowan nodded and made to leave, whispering to his son before he left: "See that you are - we own this bitch. And she'll pay for what she's done, again and again. A thousand times over. You're the master - take control, take what's yours. Do you understand?"

"I do."

+++++

The moment the door clicked shut, Lucian smacked me across the face. The blow genuinely surprised me, and he'd given it enough force to send me staggering toward the student desks. I held my face and looked up at him - I didn't have to try very hard to summon tears.

"Cut the shit, Natalie," Lucian said. "You're forgetting - I know you're not the meek little doll you're pretending to be."

He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me back to the front of the room. "You're hurting my arm," I said truthfully.

"Good. I don't care if you're meek or resistant. It doesn't matter. You're ours to break - to break for what you did to Amanda. I'll have you as much as I like when I'm home, and it won't matter if you like it. I'll control you and make you act like you want it, no matter how much you hate me. That fucker, Magnus, has never made you moan like I'll make you moan. And, when father grows bored of you, he'll sell the broken shell that's left to the most depraved whoremonger he can find. What do you think of that, sister?"

"I..." I broke down. I collapsed to the floor, crying - or at least that's what I looked like I was doing. I took the opportunity to squeeze the container with my little Amanda Bryce-powered concoction into my St. Circe's choral scarf. "Please... I'll do anything," I said.

"You're damn right, you will," Lucian said.

He dragged me back to my feet, lifted me up, and bent me over Ms. Sturm's desk. The next step, I suppose, was to flip my skirt up, pull my panties down, and take me from behind. But he was already blinking and wavering as he set me on the surface. He let got and staggered back a step.

"Wh... why do I feel?" he mumbled. "What did you do?"

I hopped down from Ms. Sturm's desk and backed him up into her chair, his steps uncoordinated and his body responding to my little nudges. Once he was seated, eyes lolling around his head, I bent down and whispered:

"You're mine to break, fucker. Since you won't remember a word of this, I'll tell you - I'm going to make you tell your father than you fucked me and that I took it like a perfect little doll. And I'm going to graduate, and he's going to take me home, and then I'm going to make all of you pay for what you did to me and Amanda. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Nooo..." he said weakly, his hands flopping about, as if to bat me away.

"Now... forget everything I just told you. Can you do that?"

"Yesss..." he hissed like a deflating tire. I could feel him trying to hold onto the memories, but even with a half-strength potion of mental-lock, a very recent memory was too malleable to hope to hold onto.

"Good... now this is what you're going to tell your father we did..."

+++++

Rowan Bryce heard a lot of bumping, crying, and grunting. Hopefully, he had a good imagination, because I had fun making sounds, like when I hit the big flat metal shelf and it rang like a gong. Toward the end of the potion's effects, Lucian was with it enough to snarl out commands and to laugh in that cruel way of his. And then, as I felt the power of the potion beginning to fail, I commanded him to snooze in Ms. Sturm's chair and I rumpled my clothes and curled onto the floor, quietly sobbing.

"It's been half an hour, boy!" Rowan Bryce said, banging on the door. "Enough sowing your wild oats, Lucian! Time's up!"

Lucian came to, eased up, stumbled to the door, and then whispered everything he thought he'd done to me to his old man. And the bastard chuckled, glancing over to my crumpled, defeated form and clapping his son on the shoulder for a job well-done. This was a man in dire need of comeuppance and a category-5 storm's worth of karma coming his way. But one thing at a time: I had to graduate first.

+++++

Graduation itself was straightforward - we had our march, during which I bounced and flipped with the gymnastics squad. I was near the front with the advanced girls - behind Michelle, Lorelei Waters and the handful of gymnasts who were really competitive at the sport and in front of the intermediate girls who couldn't quite pull off impressive tricks.

After the march, I threw my dress shirt on, my little choral scarf still damp from the potion I'd gassed Lucian Bryce with, and sang the St. Circe's anthem, 'Lovely Circe':

'Sing we under our great Circe,
Lady of great might and mercy,
Mystic madam, Lady Starlight,
In your doorway, young minds take flight,
In your aegis, safe from all harm,
Lovely Circe, your school is home...'

And so on, five stanzas worth of it. Afterward, Sauvage and Lily each gave brief speeches wishing us luck, Sauvage charging us with keeping the school's reputation (such that it was) strong and Lily charging us with using our learning here for the good of the world. Then there was the keynote speaker's commencement address, a St. Circe's alumnus who was now some bigwig in the pharmaceutical industry.

"Remember, you've been given the tools for success, but you have to think outside the box if you're to use them well," she said - words that very much resonated with me. "For my part, I like to think I have. You cannot sell potions in the outside world, nor practice the craft openly - you'll either get in trouble with the mystical authorities, find yourself running a two-bit corner shop in a bad neighborhood, or be ridiculed right out of town. But if you sell them a pill... that, they'll buy, and happily. You must present yourself in a way that the world will accept you, as a pill they will swallow - coat that pill correctly, and you'll make a billion dollars," she said. "Well... I hope. As of this morning, I'm only worth three hundred seventy-five million dollars." That earned a chuckle from the crowd.

She went on for maybe fifteen minutes - I've heard many worse commencement speakers than Kyra Bradley, Sister of the Starry Night, CEO of SyphoPharm. Then the graduates, myself included, were called to the stage, where we accepted our diplomas, shook hands with all of the VIPs up there, and walked back to our seats.

"Are you going to be okay?" Lily whispered as we shook.

"Yes," I said. "I... I think so." But I wasn't at all certain.

She nodded. "Remember the ring - my sanctuary is yours, should you need it."

"Thanks."

Then I went back to join my 'family', Amanda Bryce shooting me a questioning look, which I returned with a slight nod. Lucian Bryce sneered at me, fully believing he'd done horrible things to me and seemingly proud of it. The redness in my face from his smack had faded, but I could still feel the remnant of its force - so I hadn't gotten out unscathed, and I might yet suffer more.

"Wasn't that a lovely graduation?" Katherine Bryce mused. "Are we taking little Amanda home with us?"

"Not until two weeks in July," Rowan stated. "But it was lovely seeing you, Amanda, dear. Can you wait another month to visit home, sweet?"

"Yes, papa," she said, betraying no hint of irony. I wondered what that reunion would be like.

As we turned to leave, walking out to the road with a dozen other families, Cassie dashed out from the student section and wrapped me in an amazon death hug, lifting me right off the ground. She spun around on her feet and I caught a fleeting glimpse of a very annoyed Rowan Bryce.

"Breathing," I croaked.

"Stay safe," she whispered.

Then she put me down and backed away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Rowan put a protective hand against my back to prevent further distractions and I boarded his big chrome and black luxury SUV. We rolled along the cobblestones in silence for an awkward minute, me sharing fleeting eye contact with Rowan, Katherine, and Lucian Bryce before turning my gaze downward like a good servant. Then, as we approached the standing stones at the edge of campus, the car pulled off to the side of the road.

"I'll not have you entering my household as a free woman," Rowan stated.

With a gesture, he summoned dark cloths out of nowhere, sending their fibers wrapping and binding me - not the first time it had ever happened, but he was clearly quite skilled with it. The last thing I saw before they wrapped around my eyes was his crazed smile. I felt strong arms lifting me, depositing me in the back of the vehicle, and moments later felt the cobblestones turn to smooth asphalt. I was now a prisoner, deep in the domain of the Bryces... and as they took me from my school, I felt the magical blood pact between St. Circe's, the Bryces, and myself dissolve. Now, my only obligation was revenge.

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