Crimson Immoderation Part 15: Restraint

 I coincidentally run across her in the halls. “Oh, good morning Pyrrha. How are you doing with your new team?” 

 “Very well, thank you! But I can't talk, I'm running late for class, sorry!” 

 … We're in all the same classes. 

 -(-)- 

 “Pyrrha! Good to see you. May I join you for lunch?” 

 “Sorry! My team are doing sparring practice in ten minutes!” 

 I watch her quickstep away from me with an apologetic smile on her face, disappearing around the corner. Pulling out my scroll I check the bookings for the sparring rooms. JNPR not registered for any of them, not in ten minutes, not for the rest of the day. 

 -(-)- 

 Okay! This time for sure! “Pyrrha–“ 

 “Sorry!” 

 Oh for fuck's sake! 

 Weiss stares after her from beside me, watching the redhead hurry away into the first year dorms. “Wow, I thought you were exaggerating.” 

 “Right? It's getting kind of ridiculous. Why is she like this?” 

 “Well she's perfectly fine with me so clearly there must be something wrong with you,” Weiss sniffs haughtily. “Maybe she can detect the depraved hedonist inside you and is fearful for her chastity.” 

 “Keep on like that and I'll be the depraved hedonist inside you,” I growl without heat and, to be honest, without much lust. I'm just saying it to say it, not really in the mood for throwing her down, tying her to a bed and putting a fresh stick up her– Huh. Never mind. There it is. 

 “Promises promises,” she breathes out with a sigh. “Well as endearing as her unfailing politeness is, it can be a hindrance sometimes. What do you plan to do?” 

 “What do you mean, what do I plan to do? I called you in because I'm out of ideas.” 

 “Perhaps lay yourself bare like I did?” my diminutive girlfriend asks, getting a smirk and a once-over from me. “Not like I did for you, like I did for her!” My eyebrows raise and my smirk gets sharper. She flushes in response. “Not like–! I didn't–! You know what I mean!” 

 I chuckle at how she's still so easy to fluster before getting back to the point. “I don't know what changed, but I don't think she'll let me even begin anymore. Maybe she's decided she has enough friends, has her team, and that's enough.” 

 “That's so sad though,” Weiss murmurs. 

 I shrug. “Not really. For some people that really is enough.” It certainly was for me in my first life. I get the feeling Pyrrha is much the same, just wanting to be left to her own devices and not be tugged this way and that by friend circles.

  Good Blob that makes me sympathise with her so much more. I got annoyed when I was dragged to my own friggin' birthday party. If Pyrrha is anything like me and ended up thrust into the spotlight, constantly the centre of attention, constantly thrust into conversation with people she neither knew, nor cared about? I'm actually starting to feel bad about this course of action. Were I in her shoes, I'd hate me for being so pushy. 

 “You aren't giving up, are you?” 

 I glance down at Weiss, pause, then shake my head with maybe a little more sorrow than she would think is warranted. “No, I'm not.” Much as Pyrrha might dislike me for it now, this is necessary. Yes, she's a knockout. Yes, I want that amazonian beauty screaming my name in ecstasy. But this isn't even about that. This is quite legitimately an endeavour for the purpose of saving the world, or at the very least making sure Pyrrha doesn't get prematurely taken out of it. 

 And now my brain has decided it wants to run a skit of Pyrrha umming and ahhing, forced to choose between friendship or death. Friendship? Pouty Pyrrha face. Or death? Even poutier Pyrrha face. Good job, brain. Really earning your keep. 

 “Mister Dracul, Miss Schnee,” an airy, pleasant voice interrupts my nonsense distraction, bringing my attention to where Glynda has appeared. “I trust you two are enjoying your weekend?” 

 “Oh! Yes Professor!” Weiss, ever the pleaser of authority figures (at least the ones she likes) answers dutifully. “How is... Your day going?” she hazards. I guess not entirely sure how to small talk with a teacher. 

 “Quite well, thank you,” the Professor acknowledges before focusing on me. “Mister Dracul, I should hope your assignments for the weekend are complete?” 

 “They are,” I answer, confused at this prodding. It's actually quite a nice experience going back to doing homework. Oh no, a two thousand word essay? What hardship! And I have to look at a book to tell me all of the things to write about instead of coming up with everything myself?! The horror! Yeah, with how inured I am to writing a lot and how diligent my upbringing has made me, all that stuff gets done in like a couple hours at most. 

 “I see,” she responds, sounding genuinely surprised, “Your work ethic does you credit. I assume that means you have some time to spare at the moment?” 

 Well I was going to spend the afternoon with my favourite ice cream guzzler. I've been saving up for her for the past couple of days wanting to give her a treat. But, “I believe so?” I'm sure she can wait a couple of hours. Plus the added wait will just make her all the more enthusiastic. 

 “Good.” The blonde pulls out her scroll, tapping at it a few times before putting it away again. Turning, “Follow me please,” she strides away. 

 “Um, should I–?” Weiss tries to ask as I follow the teacher. 

 “I have things well in hand, Miss Schnee. I'm sorry for interrupting your day.”

  I shrug at my girlfriend, honestly not knowing what this is about but going along with it anyway. Glynda leads me out of the courtyard, into the main school building and down into the hallway where the sparring rooms are located. Raising her scroll she puts it against the scanner, the door unlocking with a click. “This way please.” 

 “What's this about?” I ask as I follow her in and see the place is a mess, probably left that way by the last occupants.   

 Glynda tuts out of irritation, flicking her riding crop this way and that to set the room to rights. Flicking open her scroll again, “CRDL. I'll have to have words with Mister Winchester later,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Mister Dracul. You have a problem with your semblance.” 

 “Well, I wouldn't really call it a problem...” I equivocate, trying to find better words to describe it. “It's more like a... Somewhat inconvenient facet that can occasionally prove a hindrance– Okay, it's a problem.” 

 “No need to be defensive,” the combat professor assures me, hoping to soothe any ruffled feathers. “A semblance is a reflection of the self so it's perfectly understandable to take criticism of it personally. However, flaws within the self and flaws within the semblance are equally important to be acknowledged, understood and if necessary, curtailed. No matter how frustrating it may be to confront one's shortcomings,” her crop points at me and I feel every hair on my head straighten, including my beard, tangles uncurling, as though a fine tooth comb went through all of it, “Self-control is what keeps such things from getting out of hand.” The crop is put up and I feel the grip on my hair release, letting it return to natural waves. 

 I swallow in discomfort. So she's obsessive-compulsive? That... Rather explains a lot, actually. And she probably trained a lot to not do what she just did all of the time. “I think I understand.” 

 She nods. “Good. So, your semblance. I'm afraid you'll have to pardon me for my amateur psychology. But from what I've seen and heard, it allows you to ensnare someone, steal all of their strength to use for your own purposes. And if you acquire too much power, you lose control of yourself, attempting to accomplish all of your goals without thought behind your actions. Is that an accurate summation?” 

 It's like an arrow through the heart. “Well when you lay it all out like that...” 

 “Hm,” she chuckles, “I wouldn't worry. Yours is hardly the most sinister semblance I've seen. I imagine such a thing would be fairly standard for a power-hungry type of person, whether they're that way out of benevolence or not. You would be surprised how terrifying even a benign personality can make a semblance. I remember once we had a student who simply wanted to be loved by everyone. So... His semblance allowed him to control hearts.” 

 “So... Mind control.” I can see how that would be considered worse than my semblance. As someone who basically has access to both. 

 “No,” she denies, leaning up against the back of a chair. “He had the power to control hearts. Literal, physical hearts.” 

 … Oh. 

 She takes my silence and widened eyes as understanding. “Your semblance says something about you, but it doesn't say everything, and it doesn't even say it clearly. Not to mention the strange edge cases such as the Schnee family. The point is, your semblance reflects only a single side of who you are. And if in that reflection you see something you dislike? Perhaps working to change it will allow you to change that aspect of yourself.” She frowns at me as she stands up straight. “As an educator, I find my student ceasing rational thought out of arrogance–“ the riding crop strikes the chair and I jump, “to be something worth correcting. Do you agree?” 

 In the face of her narrowed eyes, “Yes ma'am!” I yelp more than answer. 

 “Good. Now, let's begin.” She offers me her hand. I can't hide my confusion as I just look at it. “Well? You require someone to drain. For this, I will be your training partner. You will drain me and try to retain control as you reach your berserker state.” 

 “Are you insane?” I demand, rearing away from her hand. “I can't believe you would suggest such an unsafe–“ My words are cut short as the table and chairs quickly warp and twist around me to form a cage, arms raised above my head, legs locked together. 

 Glynda raises a sculpted eyebrow at me. “You believe I couldn't capture a thoughtless beast should I need to?” she taunts.   

 Carefully she directs the few loose objects to disentangle from me, letting me free again. “Why?” I ask, brushing off my sleeve out of habit even though there's no way my clothes won't end up scuffed again anyway, “If you can restrain me for this, you should.” 

 She sighs disappointedly. “Fear of yourself, hm? That's the wrong attitude to take, Mister Dracul. It's part of you. Not something to be fought, it's something to be understood. I don't fear you killing me. You won't. And fearing your power will only leave you less able to harness it.” 

 “I don't–“ I stop, knowing an argument against this will fall on deaf ears. She's resolved herself to help me with this. But if that's the case, she should know what she's getting into. “Professor,” I look her up at down, then lock eyes with her, willing her to understand, “I won't be trying to kill you.” 

 “Oh?” she questions. “Oh! Well, that's flattering, in an admittedly uncomfortable way. Though rest assured you won't be doing that either,” she assures me, even as her stance straightens just a little more, her bust pushed just a little forward. “I will say though, it's good you take your actions in that state as your own. Others in your position might have sought to disassociate themselves.” 

 I shake my head. “It's like you said, everything I do in that state is something I want to do.” 

 “Hmmmm...” she hums, but doesn't tell me what she's thinking. Just offers her off hand again. 

 I really hope this doesn't go badly. I take her hand, activating my semblance, just focusing. Control. Keep focused. Keep calm. Don't lose yourself in the– 

 -(-)- 

 GLYNDA 

 The teacher watched as her student touched the back of her hand only as much as was needed for his semblance to work. The vibrant glow was an oddity. She supposed subtlety wasn't high on his list of concerns when it came to getting what he wanted. It wasn't exactly a secret, at least among the staff, that Vlad Dracul was engaging in vigourous relations with his entire team. The young man didn't even try particularly hard to hide it, despite his relationship with the younger Schnee daughter. 

 Perhaps he mightt be the second coming of Taiyang she thought with a wry smile. Gods knew he wasn't satisfied with his entire team either. Perhaps she should have given the blond charmer a shot back then. 

 No, she was an utter mess in those days, back before she got her neuroses under control. 

 A mess, just as the Dracul heir was at that exact moment. She watched him twitch, once, then it was like a switch had been flipped. Quicker than she had expected from him, his hand snapped open and shut around her presented wrist, continuing to drain her as he pulled her in and– 

 Her weapon came up in her other hand and a deluge of metal fell upon him, coiling around his legs and spreading them, bending him forward, cuffing his hands together. As he struggled she dug her heel into his wrist, breaking the grip on her hand. 

 She watched him continue to struggle. Continue trying to break free. Her eyebrow raised as she witnessed some of his restraints start to give under the strain only to be adjusted and refit even sturdier. Interesting. 

 The wait for him to come back to his senses wasn't long compared to the story the news was selling. Only about ninety-six seconds. Though a full minute and a half of thoughtlessness in a battle could be deadly in the wrong circumstances. “Welcome back, Mister Dracul,” she greeted his waking mind as she fully removed the restraints. 

 He groaned as he stood, rubbing at his wrists, stretching his quadriceps. “How did I do?” 

 “Your asking that question should also answer it.” 

 He winced. “Ah, I suppose you're right.” 

 “Not to worry Mister Dracul,” she assured him. “I set aside time for this assuming it wouldn't be quick. Though we're already learning from this. Your strength and speed are enhanced while you're berserk, for example. Perhaps as a way to quickly bleed off the excess energy at your disposal. Are you ready to make another attempt?” she asked offering her hand. 

 He gave her a strange look. “I feel like we're not going to get many attempts if I'm draining you and you need to restrain me with your semblance every time.” 

 Oh, that was just adorable, though she chose to show irritation in her expression instead. “Mister Dracul, I think you'll find I'm quite a bit sturdier than your usual opponents. I can quite happily continue this until the booking for this room ends.” 

 “Right, right. Sorry.” With clear hesitance, his hand was on hers again. 

 The process repeated more than two dozen times. All with negligible progress. She hadn't expected to solve the problem that quickly of course. A semblance is not an easy thing to tame. The years of training to get her own semblance to sit down and be quiet had long ago taught her that lesson. Still, she had hoped for at least some hint of how to tame Vlad's particular... 

 … Tame. Tame? 

 The next time he snapped out of it she redirected one of the chairs used to restrain him towards herself and took a seat on it, crossing one stocking-clad leg over the other. 

 “Ugh, nothing again?” he asked, groaning. It was amusing to her that despite his worries for her stamina, he seemed to be experiencing mental fatigue. Another side-effect of his semblance. 

 “If I may ask you a question Mister Dracul,” she said, not actually asking permission but making a show of doing so, “You remember the experiences, even if you can't control yourself, correct?” 

 “That's right,” he confirmed, taking her relaxed pose as permission to take a breather. 

 “Do you remember what drives you in those moments also?” 

 He grimaced as he cast his mind back, likely drawing on some unpleasant memories. “On that day...” he trailed off, eyes going slightly vacant. “I had just... Wanted everything to die. There was so much rage and pain, and without thought to guide me I believed if I killed enough bandits, enough Grimm, that the pain would stop. That had been all I wanted.” 

 “But it's not always like that. It's how I knew what I would try to do today. When I was younger, the first time I experienced it, it was on a day my father insisted we train together. I hadn't wanted to. The Schnees were visiting, you see. I wanted to spend time with Winter instead. A precocious crush is a terrible thing.” He laughed to himself, as if revisiting some other, more pleasant memory. “Well, most of the time it is. In any case, I hadn't understood it at the time but suddenly my mind went blank. I shoved my brother so hard I broke his collarbone, then flew out of the training hall looking for Winter. I was only twelve. I don't quite know what I would have done if I found her before my father caught me. I imagine snuggle into her like a cat.” 

 Glynda fought to suppress a soft smile. It was good he didn't have only painful memories of his semblance. That road only led to the kind of self-loathing seen in people like Qrow. A fate she wouldn't wish on anyone. “And what does that side of you want today?” 

 His cheeks burned, reddening just a little. From embarrassment? No, no. He was no blushing virgin. It was shame. “I already told you that.” 

 “In point of fact, you didn't,” she reminded him. “I would like for you to tell me, in plain spoken words, what you want.” She had deliberately chosen not to delineate between him in this moment and him in that state.hey were one in the same. One was just more honest about it. 

 “... Plain spoken words, hm?” he asked, taking in a deep breath in then out through his nose. “I want to breed you. I want to lock your ankles behind your head and ravage your body, plant my seed in your womb and watch your belly swell with my children.” 

 … Well. She... had quite literally asked for it. “Alright then.” Standing, her fingers moved to the buttons on her pencil skirt, popping one, then another, then another, letting the garment slip down her legs. Kicking it away, she sat back down with legs spread to show her black lace undergarments, before crossing one leg over the other. Hm! That wide-eyed stare as he drank in her stocking-clad legs was also rather flattering! “Shall we try again?” 

 “I... Not that I don't appreciate the view, believe me, but–“ 

 “Is it that hard to understand?” she asked. “Think of it as incentive. Both for your thinking brain and unthinking body. You want me? I'm right here. But I have no interest in a mindless beast. If you can't control yourself you'll end up right back where you were before. So,” Once again, she held out her hand, “Shall we try again?” 

 He swallowed, nearing her, taking one last long look up her legs, at the apex of her thighs, then took her hand. 

 Once again, seconds ticked by as he sapped her energy before he began twitching. Once. Twice. Three times. 

 Then was forcefully bent over backwards before he could tear open her top.
 Progress! 

 -(-)- 

 VLAD 

 This is the best lesson I've ever had in anything ever. 

 After Glynda's, err, 'change in tactics', I start to make slow but noticeable progress in at least keeping myself contained. It's only for a few seconds, and it's only to the point I can force myself to not act instead of acting with thought behind it. But it's something. 

 And I got to stare at Glynda's legs the whole time! Seriously, she's like six and a half foot tall, woman has legs for days. 

 Sadly, with the end of the session, the legs go away back under the pencil skirt. 

 “Eyes up, Mister Dracul.” 

 Right! Yes! My eyeline moves up to her eyes again, seeing a glimmer of amusement in them. “So... The whole... That was a... What's the word...” Come on brain! Start working again! “It was just a ploy, right? You weren't serious?” 

 “You'll just have to keep improving to find out.” 

 I do my best not to whimper. This woman is the definition of cocktease, I fucking swear. 

 “I will arrange for another session this time next week,” Glynda informs me, not even asking if I'll make time. “I wouldn't recommend trying this with any of your paramours. They aren't as equipped to deal with the consequences as I am. Do you have any other concerns before I return to the drudgery of school administration?” 

 “Ah, yeah. I may have, in the heat of the moment, divulged a particular interest of mine and since it's already out in the open with you and all–“ 

 “Student pregnancy is frowned upon but tolerated. The female student in question will be removed from combat classes, live exercises and mission roster after the first trimester and will return to them three months after giving birth. They may be required to go through make-up work at that time before they will be allowed to graduate,” she rattles off as though it were a line she memorised. Might well have been. 

 “So... It's okay if I were to–?” 

 “If you 'breed' your entire team,” using my word for it to make the point clearer, “your team will be removed from the school rolls and you will begin again the next school year.” She glares at me, eyes screaming 'Do not fucking do this'. “As a first year student. Any further questions?” 

 “No ma'am.” 

 “Good. Good evening Mister Dracul.” 

 I watch her sashay out of the door, breathing deeply. I'm going to get a bit and bridle, and a tail plug. And then I'm going to let Neo take that woman for pony rides around the academy. This I fucking decree! 

 Not only that, I think this actually gave me an idea for Pyrrha.