Forseti: Applying to Top School
Staring up at the tall marble columns, Forseti coughed to hide his nervousness (which is what all Tops do when they are nervous). Coming from the north, where most of the Tops were large, Forseti himself was a big man. Tall, with long red hair and a beard to match, and muscles that had been developed naturally, Forseti still had to crane his neck to see the top of the structure. The large pillars held up the horizontal entablature that proclaimed the building to be “MT. OLYMPUS SCHOOL OF HIGHER EDUCATION FOR TOPS”.
This is where his grandfather wanted him to go? He thought to himself. He had been more than happy to attend the nice wooden structure that housed the “NORSEMAN TOP ACADEMY” in Valhalla. But no one argued with Odin. And Odin had decreed (yeah, he really decreed!) that Forseti would attend the Mt. Olympus school as a foreign exchange student. Of course as Forseti was a Top, he’d never argue with the senior member of his family. The fact that Odin had an unlimited supply of switches from the Tree of Life, never even entered his mind.
Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders (Tops do that to look bigger, it’s all an illusion, well except for when it’s not!), Forseti opened the large granite doors. Trying to walk as quietly as he could, he grimaced at the echo his shoes made on the hard oak floor. Even as he grimaced at the sound, he couldn’t help but admire the gleaming wood. He wondered how they kept it so well preserved.
When he stopped admiring the polish on the floor, Forseti noticed a door with the word Office ornately carved into it. Knowing that first impressions were the most important, Forseti smoothed his hands over his long red hair that he’d tied back with a piece of leather. Lifting up his muscular arm, he knocked briskly hoping it sounded like a Top’s knock. When he heard a woman’s voice granting him entrance, Forseti stepped inside.
“Hello, Ma’am. My name is Forseti, I’m the Norse god of Justice,” he said in his most toppish voice. “My grandfather, Odin, has sent me here to learn to be the best Top I can be.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Aletheia replied. And she would know as she’s the goddess of truth and sincerity. “I’m an alumnus myself. You will not find a better school for Tops.”
Forseti thought of the Academy back home, but didn’t contradict the woman (Tops don’t start arguments, they finish them), so he just agreed. “Yes, Ma’am. I would like to fill out an application.”
Aletheia rose and walked to her filing cabinet. Finding the proper folder, in the proper filing cabinet, she quickly pulled out the single application form (just a side note here, Brats can be very organized too. It’s not just a Top’s trait. And no, not obsessive, or OCD, but concerned that every file is properly stored! More Tops should take that Advanced Definition class, then we wouldn’t have these types of discussions!). “Here you go. Do you need a pen?”
Damn, he thought. I didn’t bring a pen or a pencil; they’ll never think I’m a Top if I’m unprepared.
“Don’t worry, many Tops are nervous their first time applying. Here you go,” she said, and handed him a pen.
First time applying? He thought to himself. Then knowing that it was only a myth that Tops can read minds, he voiced his question. “First time applying?”
“Oh, yes,” Aletheia said. “We are the top ranked school for Tops. We want to make sure our students are fully prepared to enter such an extensive course of study. Brats deserve the very best, you know.”
Nodding his head in agreement (and secretly gulping down the nerves that had leapt into his throat), Forseti took the pen and application. Turning around, he saw a couch with a table beside it; perfect place to fill out the application.
The first couple of questions were not difficult to answer. He should be considered for admission because he was the god of justice, the son and grandson of exalted Tops, and he wanted to learn how to be the best Top he could for his future Brat.
No, he didn’t have any firsthand experience with a Brat, but he’d seen many of relationships and would like to eventually have his own Brat.
Question number 3 was a bit tricky. What was he looking for in a Brat/partner? He was looking for a lover and a life partner in a Brat. Now this was where he started to panic. Did they want specific details? Height? Weight? Shaking his head, he told himself that didn’t matter. What mattered was the heart, the love he would have for his Brat. And the love his Brat would have for him.
Forseti was able to answer the question about his goals. He wanted to continue practicing law (well, what else would the god of justice be if not a lawyer?).
Beads of sweat broke out on his brow as he thought over the next question. What kind of Top are you? Forseti thought, I’m a Top, but what kind of Top am I?
“There’s a water fountain, right outside the door if you need a drink,” Aletheia said.
I must have been clearing my throat to mask my uncertainty, he thought. Smiling at the goddess, Forseti went out the door to find the fountain. Sipping the cool, sparkling water, he decided not to over-think the questions.
Straightening up, he walked back into the office with purpose (Tops do that-walk with purpose). He was doing this for his future Brat, and he’d give it his best shot. Picking up the pen, he set about his task again.
What kind of Top am I? A nurturer? Protector? Ok, that’s easy, I’m a protector. WHY? Damn, getting into Top School was harder than he thought. They asked the hardest questions. He reminded himself yet again, this would all be worth it once he held his Brat on, or even over, his lap.
As he continued through the questions, wiping his brow with a nice clean handkerchief (isn’t it amazing that Tops always have a handkerchief or tissue handy?), he finally came to one he was confident in answering.
# 8. How do you believe a Brat/partner would benefit you?
His brow furrowed (that’s how much he was concentrating) as he wrote: A Brat/partner would benefit me by allowing me to love and protect him. He’d complete me, mind, body, and soul. I would benefit by having and loving a Brat as much if not more that he would benefit from me.
The last couple of questions concerned his strengths and his weaknesses. Living with his grandfather, Odin had given him plenty of time to know and understand his strengths and weaknesses. The Tree of Life not only provided switches (and he squirmed just thinking about that!), it also provided pencils in which writing assignments and lines could be completed.
Finishing up the application and checking it twice, he took it to the receptionist’s desk. As he turned the form in, Aletheia handed him a scroll. “Here is a list of our courses,” she explained. “Please take a moment to select the ones you’d be most interested in, and write them on the back of your form.
Forseti took the scroll, and as he unrolled the sheet of paper, it seemed to grow longer. It was as if a yahoo group was adding more courses! He scanned the list even as it grew.
Looking over the courses, he started to shake. There were a few classes that scared him. And he was a Top! Lexan: The Practical Demonstration, was one that scared him the most. He’d heard of the fearsome Lexan, and from what he’d heard, Forseti wasn’t sure he even wanted to hold one, let alone use it on his precious Brat’s backside! He liked a nice pink bum, he did, but he didn’t want to HURT it. Well, not much.
How to Make a Paddle didn’t seem too bad, until he read further. The words ‘proper school paddling form’ seemed to leap off the page. Did that mean he’d get a…er, bum’s on demonstration? Maybe he’d leave that class for his senior year.
Other courses weren’t quite as intimidating. Eyebrow Lifting wasn’t necessary, as he had been born with that gene. The same was true for Switches: the Truth and the Hype. You didn’t live with Odin and not get a complete history of switches.
However, To Spank or Not to Spank and Lie Detection appeared to be required courses, and ones he’d definitely want to sign up for. He decided if he was going to take To Spank or Not to Spank, it only made sense to also take, Instruments: What to Avoid and What to Have as well as How to Hold a Well-Spanked Brat.
Some of the classes were, well, bizarre. WL time out? Now that just seemed a cruel and unusual punishment. However, Forseti had heard that the moderator of that group often hid under the bed due to the amount of posting. Hiding under the bed had led said moderator into battling vicious dust bunnies. Maybe that discipline technique was really for the WL group moderator, so that he could have a chance to catch up with all his emails. It probably also gave the moderator’s hunk a period of time to relax from having to apply his own knowledge of Meltdown Correction.
Deciding the four classes would be enough for his freshman year, Forseti handed the form back to Aletheia. She smiled sweetly up at him (That’s the smile that kept her own Brat, Nyx, up at night).
“Usually it takes four to six weeks for the application to be reviewed. However, I believe Aether and Odin have talked with each other about your admittance. I’m sure you will be hearing from the committee soon,” she said.
Thanking her politely, as all Tops know how to do, he let out a sigh of relief. The first step to his very own Brat had been completed.
As he stepped out of the office, Forseti heard rumbles of Top laughter and sweet Brat giggling. Quickly moving aside, he saw the source of the merriment. A large Top (see it’s not always an illusion) was laughing as he pulled his Brat along by his legs. The Brat’s butt left a nicely polished floor in its wake.
Smiling to himself, Forseti knew that his grandfather was right; this was the perfect Top School for him and his future Brat. The large granite doors shut behind him, but didn’t block the sounds of laughter continuing from the Top and Brat polishing the floors. Yes, this was the school for him.