Wizard College - Sexy Pranks Pt. 01

Magic spells tend to fall in and out of fashion with the season. And, just as it is with songs, celebrities, memes, and every other pop culture artifact, the popularity of a spell grows in direct relation to how stupid it is. Especially among the students at Wizard College, where you might hear of a spell that changes the color of only the backside of someone's school uniform and within a week the view from the back of any classroom was a rainbow of bright pink, green, orange and yellow. The young wizards called it "Colorjacking".

Then come the variations, like the spell that changed the color of someone's clothes only when they weren't looking, so even if they twisted in their seat to inspect the back of a shirt or pants they'd see nothing wrong. Of course someone always has to take it too far, and soon many an unsuspecting young woman was walking the halls with her clothes duplicating the colors of the body beneath. If she looked down at herself she'd see nothing wrong. Otherwise, the image of her invisibly supported bare breasts and darker areolas was projected on the shifting material of her blouse. Her skirt and panties looked like they were made of clear plastic, letting every other student known if she was shaved, trimmed or, in the case of Harmony Ginger, had a thick triangle of wiry brown hair between her pale thighs. That was when the school administration banned Colorjacking and all its variations under threat of expulsion.

Recently, a new spell had taken the campus by storm. It started off harmless enough with a very simple bit of magic: a tiny portal. Large portals, the kind someone could walk through and travel across the globe in an instant, were very advanced spells that took incredible strength and concentration to execute properly. But if the portal led to someplace close by and the portal was small, it was so simple that anyone could do it. It was only a matter of time before someone invented the OK Split: the wizard would make a circle with his thumb and forefinger, creating a portal between them. It was as simple an action as blowing soap bubbles between your fingers, but in this case you used the portal to play funny little jokes like make water from the faucet pour onto your friend's head from the air above them, or poke someone with your pencil from the other side of the classroom.

Of course it was sophomore Henry Pecker, with his unruly nature and twisted humor, who took the trend to an outrageous and depraved new level. In fact, he was the one who'd worked out the nude variation of colorjacking, a fact only his best friend Rob Weinie knew. For obvious reasons he couldn't tell their other best friend, Harmony Ginger.

Henry and Rob were sharing a pitcher of beer at Hattie McRabbit's, a popular bar near campus, when Henry started musing how he might take the OK Split to the dark side.

Hattie McRabbit was an ancient but kind woman who ran a clean and efficient bar, but it was her bad eyesight and trusting nature that made her bar especially popular with the students of Wizard College. Harry and Rob had enjoyed many an underage drink in her bar freshman year, but now that they were both of legal age they enjoyed the other perk of the bar: Hattie's daughter Rosie. Rosie was a lovely statuesque woman in her mid-30s, never married but never short on lovers, both men and women if the word around town was true. She had olive skin and shiny black hair that hung in waves across her shoulders and framed her strong but beautiful face. In the course of bustling around the bar, getting drinks, collecting glasses and taking food orders, her hair would sway and bounce just as the rest of her swayed and bounced: her full breasts filling out a loosely-buttoned shirt like two great cantaloupes, her tan cleavage glistening and jiggling beneath the parted cloth. Her tight but full buttocks bounced as well, nicely draped in the long swishy skirts she favored.

She was tough on students who tried to drink underage, and was known for her withering glare when a patron got too loud or handsy. But she knew how to work her assets. Rob, who lusted after her like he did nearly every woman he met, was openly staring at the impressive swell of her breasts and her high round ass. So was every other man in the bar, student and townie alike.

"Hello gentlemen," she purred, sidling up to their table. Both young men noticed how her heavy tits gave an extra bounce or two when the rest of her body came to a stop. "Another pitcher for the two fine young men who keep such a close eye on me from across the bar?"

Rob began to sputter, his face starting to match his firetruck-red hair. Henry gave Rosie an easy smile. "We just admire the way you keep bar. You're quite a sight."

She smirked and leaned closer, practically resting one heavy tit on his shoulder. "And I admire the way you look in this shirt, with the sleeves rolled up." As she said this, she rested one hand on the hard bulge of his bicep. Henry, a tall and broad boy with unruly black hair and stubble on his strong jaw, was used to this kind of attention. Not that it wasn't nice all the same.

"Another pitcher then. Especially if you're trying to get me drunk." Henry laughed, but his eyes met hers meaningfully.

"My god she wants to fuck your brains out!" Rob hissed as soon as she was out of earshot.

Henry shrugged. "She wants a good tip. Besides, I'm working on Violet Greene at the moment."

"Yeah, I'd like to give her a tip." Rob quipped, but his voice had a dreamy quality because he was watching Rosie's ass as she bounced and swayed among the tables. Henry turned to follow his gaze, unable to resist a lingering look at that sexy rump. There was no obvious panty-line, and given the tightness of her skirt at the top that meant she was presumably wearing a thong, or maybe no panties at all.

Even as his eyes took this in, Henry's mind was racing in another direction, spurred by Rob's comment.

He turned back around in his seat and watched Rob's hand slowly feel toward his glass, his eyes still on Rosie. When his fingers found the handle, they tightened and pulled the glass up to his face. He never noticed Henry's surreptitious movements under the table or his lips moving as he muttered the spell under his breath.

It wasn't until Rob started tipping the beer into his mouth and looked down the barrel of his glass that he saw it: there, rising into the swirling amber liquid from the bottom of the glass, was the fat pink head of a flaccid penis.

Rob spluttered, choking on beer as Henry quickly adjusted and brought his hands above the table. He raised his own glass to his face to hide his expression, but his eyes were watering with laughter. Some of the patrons seated nearby turned to look, but when Rob waved a hand to indicate he was OK, they all turned away just as quickly.

After a few hacking coughs, Rob rasped, "Was that your DICK in my beer?"

Henry nodded, still trying to contain his laughter. He didn't trust himself to talk, but he lifted one hand in the air to make a circle with his thumb and forefinger.

"You stuck your cock through an OK Split? Are you nuts?" Rob hissed.

"I must admit I tried to piss in your beer," Henry smiled. "But it was so fucking cold."

They both cracked up at this, and talked long into the night about the possibilities.

***

Henry sat in his Practical Potions class, feeling both bored and horny. Professor Cummbiche, a short and round woman with a terrible temper, was prattling on about the twenty-seven ways to prepare newt eyes for your cauldron, and how each preparation would affect the consistency of an Elixir of Good Breath. The room was as dark as the rest of the school, which was mostly lit by magical candles and torches. Even if this was the 1990s, the magical community was known for its love of both tradition and gravitas. It was a large classroom space with wooden tables spread across the room, and at each table sat two students. In front of each student was a small burner and a cauldron which would soon be bubbling with their latest assignment.

"You could slice the eye horizontally. You could slice it vertically. Zest it. Maybe pulverize. You could mash it..." Professor Cummbiche paced the front of the classroom on her thick little legs, counting off the preparations on her sausage-like fingers. She was so short that the students had to peer around their cauldrons to see her lecturing.

Henry didn't bother. He leaned back in his chair and considered the other students. Beside him, Rob had his chin propped on his hand and kept nodding off. They were sitting in the darkest corner of the shadowy room, their favorite place to be. At the table in front of them sat Harmony Ginger and Ho Lee, both paying close attention and scribbling notes furiously. At the table next to Henry and Rob's sat their least favorite people in class and possibly in the school: Duff Maldick and Priss Pumpington. They were a couple, possibly by default because no one else could stand them. Both pale, blonde and skinny, they could've been mistaken for siblings by anyone who hadn't seen them practically dry humping around campus between classes. Henry guessed that if they were siblings who fucked it wouldn't have been the first occurrence in either of their insanely rich and influential families.

The room was large, so there were several tables he couldn't see very well but he knew all the people who were over there: Jenny Chester, Sammy Filmore, Patty Grunkalunk, Vageena Patel, Dean Hardwicke, and Roger Roundly.

But at the table in front of the creepy incest twins was the sight that really grabbed his attention. Sitting next to "Loopy" Lucy Goodsnatch was the current object of Henry's lust, Violet Greene. Violet was a gorgeous curvy girl who'd recently broken up with her long-time boyfriend and had since been getting most of her calories with alcohol. So she was suddenly a little skinnier around the middle, tightening up her belly and ass, and the slight droop in her tits only made them more sexy, bottom-heavy and teardrop-shaped. Plus, the longtime boyfriend had been Sammy Filmore, and Henry was certain that smarmy little choad hadn't been banging her right for quite a while, if ever. He would've put money on that pussy being tight as a glove, and he had plans to put it through the paces.

They'd connected midway through a party last weekend, and had made out pretty hot and heavy before someone found them and informed Violet that her friend was puking into a closet. Henry had managed to get his hands on her tits and the memory of their soft heft made his palms tingle. Even though it had been over the shirt he clearly felt her nipples get hard. And when he'd rubbed them harder with his thumbs she'd gasped in that tremulous way that let him know she was already halfway to a climax. She had left him with a mournful pout and a squeeze of his hard cock through his jeans that let him know they'd be finishing this next time.

Now he couldn't wait for the weekend, and he couldn't stop staring. She'd been sloppier about her uniform since the breakup: Her sweater was hanging on the back of her chair, her white blouse was half-tucked into her tartan skirt, and her kinky blond curls were swept carelessly up into a pony tail, exposing her long neck to Henry's gaze. He could see an expanse of pale thigh between her knee-high socks and the hem of her skirt, which she'd carelessly hiked up further as she slouched back in the chair with her legs splayed out under the table. She let her shoes drop from her feet, and the bottom of her white socks were dirty.

His gaze moved back up her body until he saw that she'd turned to look at him, with an easy grin and a naughty look in her eyes. The tip of her pink tongue swiped across her top teeth, then she bit her bottom lip and he saw her run one hand up her thigh, gathering the skirt with it and pulling it up almost to her panties. Then she yanked it back down with a defiant smirk, sitting up straight and proper and turning her attention back to the droning professor.

Henry chuckled to himself. Her teasing had worked, and now his head was positively swimming with desire. His stiff cock throbbed painfully in his uniform pants, and he adjusted position to give himself more room. Then he remembered an idea he and Rob had joked about in the bar, a crazy notion that neither took seriously at the time.

Under the table, Henry made a circle with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, muttering an incantation under his breath. When he looked there was a faint blue ripple in that round hole, confirming the spell had worked. With a deep breath, he probed into the space with the middle finger of his right hand, and watched the tip disappear.

The pad of his finger felt warm and damp. He slowly slid it back and forth in the silken furrow where his portal led.

He saw Violet gasp with a start, sitting up even straighter in her chair. Watching her, he applied some pressure. Violet's sex was compressed between her body and the chair, not to mention the snugness of her panties, but even so it only took a little more pushing for her lips to split and engulf his finger. His digit sank into her heat, finding a well of lubrication that had been gathering. The hot liquid dribbled down his finger and he smeared it between the lips of her pussy, sliding them further apart and giving him access to the hard nub of her clit. It was already enflamed and stiff, reminding him of the way her nipples had stabbed into his palm through her shirt and bra. He stroked it, applying an insistent pressure.

Violet tried to stifle her moan, but the noise that squeaked out of her made Lucy Goodsnatch turn and regard her neighbor with a quizzical expression. Violet either couldn't meet her eyes or didn't notice, because she only sat with her hands gripping her knees under the table and shuddered. Henry pulled back.

Harmony asked the professor a question that sounded really smart, and Henry was glad he'd be studying off her notes. It wasn't that he was dumb, it was just that she was good at listening to long lectures and constructing coherent notes, while his talents and interests lie elsewhere.

"Are you ok?" Lucy whispered.

Violet gave a quick smile and nodded. When Lucy turned away again, Henry sank his middle finger back into her juicy snatch. A shiver ran through the girl, and Henry smiled with pride. He went to work, alternating between stroking her clit and pumping his whole digit up into her tight center.

He watched the red blush rise from the collar of her blouse, coloring her neck and ears and cheeks. Her thighs trembled and fell further apart, allowing him more access.

She ran as hot as he'd hoped, and within a minute Henry could tell she was close to cumming. He hit her clit repeatedly, stroking it in a circle with a steady rhythm. Then he watched her go over the edge. Violet silently gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. Though the rest of her body was almost completely still, her feet were writhing and contorting beneath the desk.

Her pussy clenched around his finger, and more hot liquid trickled down his hand with each spasm. One, two, three hard squeezes, and then small after-shocks that faded into the distance. When she was done, Henry removed his finger and broke the portal. For a few minutes he looked straight ahead and pretended to pay attention to the lesson, even when he sensed Violet turn and look at him, briefly, as if trying to confirm a suspicion. Under the table he rubbed her juices between his fingers and felt the precum leak out of his aching cock into his briefs, like the hot and steady flow of an imminent volcano. He'd never been so feverishly turned on his life; the simultaneous intimacy and disconnection was his hottest experience yet. While he fingered her and forced her to cum in the middle of class, Violet had felt like his sexy marionnette.

Next to him, Rob still dozed lightly, his eyes drooping and popping open again, over and over. Henry reached over and held his fingers under Rob's nose.

The smell of pussy hit him like smelling salts. "Huh? What?" Rob gasped quietly, sitting up straight and looking at Henry. After a moment the light came on in his eyes. "What did you do?"

Henry didn't want to take the time to explain, but needed a witness to what he was about to do, because even his best friend might not believe it later. And just in case anything went wrong. "Just watch," he whispered.

At that moment "Loopy" Lucy Goodsnatch was living up to her name, absentmindedly twisting a lock of her purple hair around her finger and rambling on to the class about some conspiracy she'd heard about the harvesting of newt eyes. The timing couldn't have been better, because Lucy was loud and boring; as long as she was talking, everyone else would be staring off into space, lost in their own thoughts. And Henry knew she'd talk for a while.

Violet was leaning forward in her seat with her elbows on the table, her face hidden behind her cauldron so Professor Cummbiche couldn't see the color in her cheeks, or the fact that she was still gasping.

Henry wrangled his zipper down—not an easy task when sitting—and pulled his stiff rod out into the open air. It was an impressive piece of meat, not enormous but always a little bigger than the girls were used to. Now, though, it was harder and thicker than he'd ever seen. It was engorged to capacity, angry red and so slick he didn't even bother to spit on his hand and give it a few preparatory tugs.

He made another portal with his left hand, carefully calibrating the exit point as he recited the spell. The air between his fingers became a glowing blue circle, and he held it above his cock.

Taking a deep breath, and ignoring Rob's noises of protestation, Henry slid the wide circle of blue down over the tip of his penis, immediately lodging the dome of his cock in the slick heat between Violet's pussy lips. He watched her whole body tense and held himself there, throbbing at the entrance to her drooling sex.

Violet slowly lowered her head, the strands of hair that had come loose of her ponytail hanging down toward the table. Her head lifted slowly, then lowered again. She was sending a signal. She was nodding. To drive the point home, she slowly spread her legs, her tartan skirt sliding further up and revealing an upper stretch of thigh as pale and smooth as porcelain.

Henry needed no further invitation. He pulled the magical ring down his cock, burying another two inches before he met resistance. For a moment he wondered if she was somehow, through some strange twist of fate and Sammy Filmore's incompetence, a virgin. Then he realized it was just the angle.

He shifted his hips, trying to gain more access, pumping shallowly into her. She was slowly making her own explorations, rolling her pelvis and turning it first one way, then the other. Suddenly, and more forcefully than he intended, Henry shoved nearly his whole cock up into the girl. The very moment he had access to her love tunnel, he'd filled it neatly.

"It's a conspiracy on all levels!" Lucy Goodsnatch repeated, louder this time, at the same moment that her friend jerked in her seat and squealed, unnoticed.

The velvet heat that gripped Henry's cock was divine. He felt like he'd plunged it into a thick, hot jelly. Then her pussy spasmed around him, and a ring of pressure ran from the base of his cock to the tip, like he was being milked.

He held himself still, and as she came down from her orgasm Violet could feel the pulse of his heartbeat in his twitching cock, there in the center of her body.

As soon as he could tell she'd stopped cumming, Henry began to pull out—slowly, so slowly—and push back in again. In a couple of thrusts he was giving her the full length, and the way her eyes shot open when he was buried to the root told him she was feeling more full than she ever had before. Every girl he fucked said that, claimed she couldn't take any more right up until the moment he planted himself balls deep, the head of his cock bumping against the opening of her womb.