The limousine pulled through the imposing rod iron gate, the words “EROS ACADEMY” emblazoned above it. As the wheels rolled up the long driveway, past the manicured lawns and fountains, Michael felt his heart flutter as he looked at the tremendous building on the other end of the grounds. He could see other cars and gaggles of people milling about. He swallowed hard.
“Darling please, you seem so nervous, try to relax. This should be a happy day for you,” came a slow, slurred voice from across the aisle.
“Yes mother,” Michael said automatically. He turned his head away from the window and toward the other side of the car. His mother was lounging across the bench seat with her head in his father’s lap, running her finger along the brim of a half empty martini glass. His father had one hand on her head, the other on her leg, gently stoking her, an enthusiastic grin on his face.
“The years your mother and I spent at Eros made us who we are today Michael. Pretty soon you’ll get the lay of the land, meet some new friends and this will be your home away from home.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Michael said noncommittally, eyeing the cluster of people drawing closer. He sighed with resignation as the car rolled to a halt. A knot twisted in his stomach. He watched as the door opened and suddenly heard dozens of voices mingling together. The air was chilled and damp and he felt his stomach twist again as he breathed it in. Stepping out of the car was like stepping onto a strange and troubling new planet.
He stared up at the imposing structure; the huge arched door, the towering turrets, the slick stonewalls, notched with dark shuttered windows. He was used to big houses, his own family’s house was a sprawling estate, but this was practically a castle. He couldn’t imagine being finding his way around inside, especially with hundreds of other students making their way around him. He felt his head spin thinking about it. Glancing from left to right he noticed other people, most around his age standing beside pieces of luggage, some in cliques most by themselves.
There was a sound of something behind him and suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw his father, dressed smartly is his black, silk suit, as the valet took his bags out of the back and set them on the curb. His mother was draped over him, wearing a bright crimson dress, low cut and sheer to be nearly see-through that fell just above her chalk white knees.
“Michael,” his father said, “this is a big day for you. You’re sixteen now and you’re on your way to becoming a man. This is the place you’ll do it. I know you’re nervous, but l have no doubt you’ll make me proud. All you have to do is keep your nose to the grindstone and your mind open.” He stuck out his hand. Michael swallowed hard and nodded as he took it. He gripped it hard, knowing his father appreciated a firm handshake and pumped it. He looked over to his Mother. She gave his an affectionate pout.
“Honey! I can’t believe this day has come already! Aw, my little boy is all grown up! Just try to enjoy yourself and don’t be nervous. This place may seem intimidating now, but it’s not that bad, really.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. As she did someone stepped up behind them and cleared their throat.
“Ahem, are we checking in?” A woman said. Michael turned to see a thin, woman in a dark gray dress. Her dark hair was done up in a tight bun. She was smiling in a business like manor.
“Yes,” his father said. “Dravenwood, Michael. We’re just dropping him off.” He thumped Michael on the back roundly with his palm, hard enough to make him rock on his feet. The woman thumbed through a large black ledger.
“Dravenwood… Dravenwood” ah here it is, yes Michael Dravenwood. You’re first year here I see?”
Michael nodded, “That’s right.”
The woman’s smile widened. “Welcome to Eros Academy, I’m sure you’ll fit right in here. You’re family are noted alumni at this school.”
“Um… I certainly hope I live up to their example, Mrs…?”
“Hetaira. Lydia Hetaira, Headmistress. Mr. Dravenwood why don’t you head inside, we’ll be having an assembly in the Dining Hall shortly. Your bags will be brought to your dorm. Here.” She pulled a slip of paper out of the ledger. “The rest of your registration paper has been filled out but we will need we will need you to sign this.”
She glanced over her shoulder towards two young men in blazers and nodded. They come over and picked up the bags. Mrs. Hetaira walked away towards another newly arrived group. Michael turned towards his Parents again and smiled wanly. “Well…this it is,” he said. “I’ll write.”
“You’ll be seeing us soon enough baby. Won’t we Charles?” his Mother said soothingly, is father was standing behind her now, his arms wrapped around her waist, kissing at her neck smoothly. “Charles?”
“Hmm? Oh yes! Yes you’ll be home for break before you know it. And if you really need to speak with us you can call... Samantha, being back here… mmm, brings back so many memories…”
His mother smiled and twisted her head to look at her. “I can tell…” He she stuck out her chin and his Father leaned in and planted his lips on her, kissing her passionately. Michael rolled his eyes as the two of them groped and pawed at each other, stumbling blindly back to the open door of the limousine.
He looked back towards the building. Exhaling slowly he started walking. It was easier now that the limo was rolling away and there was no way out. Others were finding their way in now, and he could see larger groups milling about inside and echoing conversations. As he slipped into the huge open oaken doors, he made his way into a parlor filled wall to wall with young people.
They chatted noisily amongst themselves. The air was warm and humid with the combined heat of over a hundred bodies. Michael ducked into an open space against the wall. He scanned the room, eyeing elegant suits of armor and classical busts. On the wall closest to was a large, finely framed oil painting of a woman. She was topless, wearing only a long dark skirt and a Victorian style choker around her neck. She held a riding crop primly in one hand.
An inscription at the base of the painting read: Victoria Marplecroft. Founder. Circa 1845. Michael looked back up at the woman’s face. Her cold gray eyes gazed sternly over the assembled gaggle. Her expression was of rigid solemnity. A chill raced through him and he pulled his eyes away quickly. As he did, something caught his attention.
A girl was standing along the same wall, looking roughly as out of place as he felt. She was tall, very fair skinned, with flowing locks of fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders. She was shifting a little on her feet, a shy expression on her face, her pink lower lip buried in her teeth as she looked up at a part of the wall next to portrait. Michael followed her gaze upwards towards a shield shaped crest on the wall. It was black with a slash of gold down the center, emblazoned with a gold E and a gold A. Beneath it was a plaque, displaying the words:
The Five Pillars
She was studying the letters with intense interest. Michael, feeling his heartbeat skip up a little started to edge slowly towards her. She glanced over at him. He stopped and gaped at her awkwardly. She started to smile a little. Michael opened his mouth, just as he was coming up with something to say, when there was the sound of door creaking open. The others began streaming out of the parlor and into the open doorway of the dining hall.
The girl smiled and started to walk away with the rest. Michael watched her merge with the rest of the crowd. He sighed and started walking himself. They slipped under the doorway and into the dining hall. The chamber was huge, stonewalls lit by hundreds of flickering candles, throwing long shadows on the walls. A chandelier hung from the slopping ceiling, over a series of table placed in the center of the room. Beyond that on the far wall there was a dais, on which sat a long table with a group of people behind it.
Michael was aware of the eyes on him. Faces half lit by candles fell silent as they entered. The upper classmen were seated at long tables, dressed in white and black uniforms. Michael felt them eyeing him and the others, accessing them. He looked back towards the table, trying to keep focus on it, but his head seemed to swell and spin. By the time he reached a chair, he groped the back of it to keep his balance.
He pulled the chair back an inch, then halted, glancing at the others around him. No seemed to know if they were meant to sit. The students stood awkwardly, murmuring in hushed tones awaiting instruction. Finally, Mrs. Hetaira rose from her seat and cleared her throat. “You may sit.”
Chairs squealed across the floor and Michael slipped into the seat. Mrs. Hetaira looked over the room and smiled. “Welcome everyone,” she said to the hushed crowd. “I see many familiar faces. To our returning upper classman, it’s good to have you back. To our new students, I hope you will find your time here enriching. Eros Academy has a proud tradition and heritage. We take only the best and that’s what we hope to produce. Here you will be taught the arts of sexuality, sensuality perversion and debauchery. You will touch and be touched. Kiss and be kissed. Fuck and be fucked. When you leave here, our goal is for you to be well prepared to join others like you, in a community of the elite, the debauched and the depraved.
“We’ll be having dinner in a moment. Then you will be shown to your dormitories. Before that, however I want you to carefully read the paper you were given when you arrived. After you have read it carefully, sign it and hand it in when you receive your uniform and room assignment.”
She paused as the students all pulled out the forms they’d been given. Michael had nearly forgotten it was in his back pocket and laid it on the table along with the others around him. “Now, without further ado, dinner is served.”
Chairs scrapped again as students began lining up to collect trays and have food ladled to them. Michael hung back and studied the form.
I, _______ by signing my name on this form assure that I am sixteen years of age and that I enter into the tutelage of Eros Academy of Licentiousness of sound mind and body. I certify that I am disease free, and that I enter into this program knowing that it is of a sexual nature. I Acknowledge that the remote possibility exists that I may contract an STI, and or may impregnate/become impregnated and release Eros Academy of any responsibility in the event of any such circumstance. By signing my name on this form, I pledge to obediently follow the instructions of my professors and that I will do my best to live up to the Five Pillars: Lust, Indulgence, Pleasure, Passion and Exploration.
Michael read and reread the document. He scanned the other faces that had remained seated. Down at the very end he spotted her again. She was had her own form in front of her and was taping a pen against her teeth pensively. As if she felt his gaze she glanced up. Michael smiled nervously, and looked away. He looked back and saw her smiling back, roses blooming in her cheeks. She taped her teeth once more, then leaned forward and signed.
Michael smirked, took a deep breath and wrote his name on bottom line.
After a meal of surprisingly good meatloaf, gravy and peas, the Upper classmen were dismissed and the freshmen were instructed to line up by the far wall, beside a nude Greek style statue. Counting heads, Michael surmised there were just over a hundred of the newbies. A few of the girls were speaking quietly with each other; most of the boys were just standing quietly. A young man with a meticulous part in his rust colored hair, dressed in black trousers and a white shirt appeared at the head of the line. He offered them a professional, toothy smile.
“Hello everyone! I’m Deacon Crane. I am a senior here at Eros Academy and a prefect. I’ll be showing you to the freshman dorms. Now follow close, it can be a little confusing until you get the hang of it.”
He turned on his heel and started down the hallway. Michael followed behind, trying to stay in single file with the other students. He clutched his note, folded in his sweat slick palm, firmly. They moved through the oaken paneled halls, past leering busts and antique oil paintings. The halls hummed with activity. The line of freshmen weaved between maids, workmen, professors and students, trying to keep up with Deacon as he marched onwards, turning around occasionally and walking backwards. When he did he would shout some piece of information about where they were, or what they were passing. Michael strained to hear him over the general ruckus.
“We’ll be crossing the courtyard,” he shouted, “and heading into the west wing and through the dorms. Once we get to freshmen rooms, you’ll be issued your uniforms, room assignments and schedules. Feel free to wander if you like until curfew at 11:00, but don’t go off the property and try to get a sense of your surroundings. Any student not in their dorms after curfew will be subject to punishment.” He never stopped moving as he spoke, just slipped out of the archway and into the court way.
They walked on behind him and Michael felt a rush of cool fresh air pour over him. It was night now, the full moon and stars bathing the slick stones of the yard in their pale light. In the center of the yard stood a large marble fountain. Michael waited for his eyes to adjust and make sense of its shapes. After a moment it came. It was a figure of two nudes, a man and a woman, seven feet high on a pedestal. They were clutching each other, the male with his hands wrapped around her waist, the female holding his shoulders. The detail of their faces was expert, their features contorted in an eternal climax. Water flowed freely from the male’s stony erection over his partner, and in turn, it gushed out of her sex and between his legs and into the pool below.
Michael felt himself getting hot despite the cool air. He tore his eyes away from the fountain and towards the far wing. He became aware of other figures in the shadows of the courtyard. Moving figures. Sitting around the pool, in the lines of trees, pressed against the wall. They pressed themselves against each other, gyrated and swayed. Michael could hear their soft sounds. Giggles, coos, light moans and whispers. Bits of exposed fleshed come into soft focus fleetingly before disappearing out of view again. ‘Upper classmen,’ he thought, trying not to look to closely into the writhing shadow. ‘Happy to see each other ... will I really will become comfortable with it…with that? Doing that…so brazenly?’
Clearly others noticed too, because the line slowed a bit, heads craning to see. Crane walked on a bit before noticing he was losing them. “Come on now! There is a lot to get done, let’s not dawdle!” He called. If he was put off by the displays of affection, he did not show it. ‘Probably he can’t wait to get rid of us so he can couple up himself.’ Michael thought as the freshmen picked up the pace and were led out of the courtyard and into the dormitory.
More hallways followed. More statures and paintings, more doors and passages and Michael was just beginning to wonder how the hell he was supposed to find his way around this place when they started up a spiral staircase. They wound there way upwards, their footfalls echoing off the stone. Passing long corridors as they went. At last, they reached the very top.
“Alright, here we are,” Deacon said, sounding out of breath himself as he led them down the carpeted hall. There was a T-junction up ahead and a very long table had been laid out. “These are your dormitories,” he said giving them another professional grin. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “When I read out your name step forward and hand me your form. Then grab your packet off of the table. Keys to your rooms are in the envelopes with your schedules. Don’t lose them. They’re laid out in alphabetical order. Let’s see…Appleton, Rosemary.”
“Here.” A slender girl, with pixie cut brown hair stepped forward. She was tall, and wore Capri pants that accented her long coltish legs. She handed her form to Crane and walked down the Hall. Appleton was followed by Atkins, a short boy with an unkempt mop of dark hair, then by Baker, a full figured young woman with dirty blonde hair. One by one they went. Michael scanned the thinning crowd, Keeping his eyes peeled for red hair and pale skin, so that he could at least learn her name. He was so distracted he didn’t hear when they called him.
“Dravenwood?!” Crane called a second time.
“Huh? Oh! Yes, um h-here. I’m Michael Dravenwood,” he said, gently nudging people aside. He held out his form and Crane took it without even an upward glance, just cocking his thumb down the hall at the table. Michael walked away from the crowd, down to the far end of the table.
Place cards indicated whom each package was laid out for. His was near the end. It was a bulky, white plastic bag with a manila envelope lain on top of it. The envelope was labelled, “Michael Dravenwood. Room 433.” Michael picked up the assorted good and nestled them under his arm. Others were walking along the side of the table towards him now.
‘433…433…’ He began slowly walking back down the hallway, eyeing the doors as he went. He found his room after about two minutes of searching. He set the package by his feet and began to open the envelope. He was anxious to be alone for at least a few minutes. Unpack and reorganize his thoughts. Get back a little sense of some control. The key was just sliding home in the lock when he heard a voice behind him.
“Excuse me?” it said. It was light, and perhaps a bit timid.
He looked up quickly and immediately felt his stomach do a cartwheel. It was the redhead. He opened his mouth and several seconds went by before he could think of what to say. “Ye-ye-yes?” he stammered.
She smiled and when she did he noticed the roses blooming again in her cream colored cheeks. She glanced at her feet then back up. “Is, uh, that room 431?”
Michael looked at the door next to his own and nodded. “Yes it is.”
Her smiled widened. “Well, then I guess we’re neighbors…I’m Jessica.” He tucked her package under her arm and stuck out her free hand. Michael took it. Her hand was warm and electric in his; he felt another cartwheel in his stomach.
“Michael. Michael Dravenwood. It’s nice to finally meet you. I mean meet you! I mean, well, I noticed you, that is I, um, saw you and wanted to introduce myself, I err…”
“I understand. I noticed you as well. It’s nice to meet you too.” She walked around him to her door. Michael fumbled with his key as he watched her move. “Can I ask you something Michael?” Jessica asked, her voice an octave lower.
He looked back to her face and nodded silently, his desire to be alone forgotten for the moment. She bit her lip briefly, “Do you feel, I mean does all this... make you nervous?” she whispered conspiratorially. “I mean. I’ve always known I’d be coming here, and it’s not like I’m not a prude I guess, but I dunno, now that I’m here t all seems so strange.” She sighed deeply and shook her head. “You probably don’t have any idea what I’m talking about.”
Michael shook his head promptly. “No, no! I know exactly what you mean. It’s really strange! I feel so out of my league here!”
“Really? Oh, feels so good to know someone else feels that way. Though I never thought it’d be you what with you being a Dravenwood.”
Michael smiled. “What’s my family got to do with it?”
Jessica shrugged nonchalantly. “Well… our families travel in the same circles, and let’s just say, I’ve heard some stories about Dravenwood men.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “You can’t believe half those stories.”
“If you say so... anyway, it was nice talking with you,” she said opening her door.
“I’d love to talk with you again. If that’d be alright.”
She stopped halfway into her room and blushed again. “Well, we’re going to be neighbors. I think there’s a good chance we’ll talking.”
“Great! I mean…that’d be nice. Goodnight. Nice chatting with you.”
“You too.” With that, she went into her room. Michael sighed a little and went into his own.
His bags were stacked neatly on one of the two beds in the austere chamber. The room was divided perfectly down the middle. Two beds, two closets, two dressers and two desks. Michael kicked off his shoes; his feet ached pleasantly. He sat at the foot of his bed and began unpacking slowly. He As he pulled out his socks and underwear, and hung the white button down uniform shirts in the closet, he tried to clear his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about those figures in the courtyard though, and imagining he was down there with them in the dark. Picturing his hands sliding over soft smooth skin, while other hands moved over him, he shuddered and exhaled slowly as he felt his face getting hot and a lurch between his legs.
He pulled out books and linens, all the while relishing the silence of seclusion and throwing cautious glances at the door, waiting for his roommate to arrive. He was setting up his setting up his desk, looking for an outlet for a lamp when he made a strange discovery. He was down on his knees, feeling along the wall, when he found a small indent in the wood. Frowning, he poked at it curiously. It moved. There was a sliding panel in the wall. It slid back revealing two holes in the wall. Michael squinted at it. He had an idea of what he was seeing but couldn’t quite grasp it.
He leaned forward and looked into the holes. His was looking into a room almost identical to his. He could see Jessica. From this angle he could see most of the room as if was just a few feet off the floor. She was sitting on her bunk, her bags at her side, a paperback open on her lap.
Michael’s eyes bulged. A peephole! What the hell was peephole doing here. He felt a tremor run down his spine and his mouth opened. He should have looked away. Then again, this was so peculiar. How often did you come across something so odd? It couldn’t hurt to look just a little more.
Jessica looked up from her book, stretched and yawned. She sat there for a moment looking at the ceiling, seeming lost in thought. There was something thrilling about watching her when she didn’t know she was being watched. He felt a queer sort of rush doing it.
She abruptly got to her feet. Michael shifted his weight. His knees were starting to ache but he couldn’t bring himself to move. She walked around her desk to her dresser. Michael watched as she pulled out a pair of PJ bottoms and a T-Shirt. She threw them on her bed. ‘Oh God! Is this really happening?’ Michael thought. He felt himself tremble again. He leaned in closer to the wall, steadying with his palms, his mouth suddenly dry as she kicked off her shoes one by one.
She didn’t hesitate at all as she pulled her shirt off. Why would she hesitate? She had no idea a teenage boy was crouched on the other side of the wall leering at her. ‘Oh God I am a pig!’ Michael thought as Jessica reached around her back and worked at the hooks of her powder blue brassiere.
“Oh!” He gasped softly as her smooth, milky white breasts tumbled into view. He was suddenly was aware of a dull ache between his legs as his member became rock hard and pressed snugly against his trousers. Instinctively he reached down to his crotch and squeezed his swollen cock.
Jessica stooped as she slid her jeans down her legs and before Michael could believe what he was seeing, she stood back up, totally nude. He gasped again as he drank in her form. Unblemished skin, peach sized breasts topped by rosy pink colored nipples, a patch of fiery pubic hair between long, shapely legs. He squeezed his pulsing cock once again as it throbbed.
She stooped once more to pick up her jeans and as she did, her breasts dangled out in front of her body. Michael grunted softly, feeling a heat creeping up his face and a trickle of sticky pre-cum drip from the tip of his penis down his thigh. His fingers began to massage his groin. She moved lithely over to the bed, tossing her clothing into the hamper as she went. Every movement she made seemed exaggerated to his eye. The ache in his crotch was intense. He was breathing hard now. ‘Look away! Look away!’ But he couldn’t. He felt his body tensing.
As she reached her bunk, she bent to pick up her pajamas, giving Michael a fleeting glimpse of the lips of her pussy protruding from beneath the curves of her buttocks. It sent him over the edge. He shuddered violently as he felt his cock spasm and a stream of warm cum flooded down his thigh. He panted as he looked down, seeing a patch of darkness spreading over the crotch of his pants.
Suddenly Michael heard the click of the door opening. His head spun around and he watched, frozen in place as it swung back to reveal a tall, slim young man, with dirty blonde shoulder length hair. He gave the room a quick scan a quickly his eyes fell on Michael as he crouched on the floor by his desk.
Michael’s jaw hung unhinged. ‘Say something!’ he thought desperately. ‘Explain this!’ But his brain simply refused to oblige. What explanation was there? How could he justify what he was doing? He waited for a look of disgust to come over the boy’s face. Instead, his face brightened in a smile.
“Oh, hello. Looks like someone’s found one of the peepholes.”
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/novels/eros-academy-chapter-1-welcome.aspx">Eros Academy: Chapter 1 Welcome</a>