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Subject: The Girl's School 3 (MF Mf M+F+f+ FF ff F+f+ bdsm span fdom cons)
Date: Fri, 17 Sep 2004 15:19:04 -0700
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The Girl's School 3 (MF Mf M+F+f+ FF ff F+f+ bdsm span fdom cons)
By: Connard Wellingham
Chapter 3 - Settling In (nosex)
The first few days of Adam's new job went by in a whirl of impressions and
sensations. Greenwood was unconventional in many ways. He had known that
things would be different, of course, from the beginning - but knowing
it and
experiencing it were two different things. Firstly he had two subjects
to cover
- the computing had, so far, not materialised and there had been no further
reference to the 'additional duties' mentioned in the letter. As this
was a
boarding school, there were numerous supervisory duties, which all the
staff
seemed to do as a matter of course - although, he noted with wry
amusement, he
was not asked to supervise the girls' dormitories. Then, too, Anne
seemed to
have organised the classes in an unusual manner. As there were only 40
girls
and five teachers altogether, conventional streaming was not practical.
Still,
some of the groupings were distinctly odd. He determined to broach the
topic
some time. As it was he had his hands full. His largest class had 8
girls and,
contrary to his expectations, it was proving harder to deal with 8 girls
than
with 30. He retired to bed each night exhausted.
He was aware of other oddities. There seemed very little attention paid
to games and sports, something he had sort of assumed went hand-in-hand
with
boarding schools. Riding seemed to be the only physical activity that was
mentioned. In fact there seemed to be very few extra-curricular
activities at
all. The girls disappeared after the formal lessons and reappeared for
dinner.
It was very puzzling.
As he began to find his feet and relax, he began to notice more subtle
distinctions and relationships. The grouping of the girls that he found so
arbitrary to begin with seemed to work on a level he could not fathom.
There
was something about the girls that he couldn't quite put a finger on.
For a
start they were all mature for their years. Even the 14-year-olds could
easily
pass for 2 or 3 years older. What was more they were all extremely
attractive
- not one of them could be described as 'plain'. Indeed they were
downright
sexy. What is that mysterious element, that glamour, that makes a girl
sexy
rather than simply attractive? Whatever it is, these girls had it in
spades.
That was certainly one part of his unease - for the first time in his
career, he
was aware of his pupils as females rather than teenagers. He found himself
watching them in the corridors, the enticing swing of their hips, the
shifting
of their developing breasts under the white blouses; ogling them as they
ran
across the school yard, young breasts bouncing.
But it was the uniforms that gave him the biggest shock. The glossy
brochure he had read had stated that the school uniform was a dark green
blazer,
white shirt and charcoal grey skirt or slacks. The first two years were
obliged
to wear white ankle socks and the upper school black stockings or
tights. In
his mind he had sort of half assumed that the dress code would be strictly
adhered to. He had imagined they would all dress like the three who had
met him
when he had come for the interview. The reality was that he had never
seen such
a bewildering variety of outfits, each of which seemed designed to
enhance the
charms of the wearer. Technically, yes, they were the school uniform - the
jackets, when they were worn, were dark green, the shirts white and the
skirts
and slacks charcoal grey. But, beyond that, any resemblance to a
uniform was
entirely accidental. He seemed to be constantly surrounded by a sea of
pulchritude. And it wasn't just the older girls, even the 2nd Form seemed
intent on making him constantly aware of their developing bodies.
However, the real problem was that he wasn't connecting with them - and
the harder he tried, the worse it became. He wasn't relating to them as
he was
used to and this disturbed him for he had always taken pride in his
ability to
relate to young people. All in all it was very frustrating and he began to
wonder if he had made the right decision in coming to Greenwood.
He also became aware of subtle tensions in some of the classes,
particularly with the older girls. Inevitably, being young girls in the
first
flush of womanhood, they began to flirt. He was used to this and had
quickly
learned, when he first started teaching, to ignore the none-too-subtle
attempts
of adolescent girls. But these girls were different: it was almost it
was as if
they were testing him in some strange and disturbing way. Not that they
over-
reached themselves or behaved out of turn, but, somehow, they made it
clear that
they were available - he only needed to say the word.
One incident, in particular, stood out. He was walking through the
grounds one evening when he heard the sounds of girlish giggles coming
from a
small copse of trees. Knowing they were not supposed to be there, he
went to
investigate and was brought up short by their conversation.
"... and old George is always trying to cop a feel," said one.
In your dreams," retorted another.
Yeuch! Nightmares, more like. He's such a dirty old man."
He wouldn't really try it on, would he?"
No. He just pretends. Ms Henderson had made it quite clear what would
happen if he did," said a slightly older voice.
Is that why we put on our little show? To keep old George happy?"
That's right. Ms Henderson reckons if we give him a bit of a show, he'll
be quite happy and won't bother us."
Someone giggled. "I bet he gets his thingy out and plays with himself."
The words are 'cock' and 'masturbate' - or 'wank', if you want to be
crude."
"Ugh. How disgusting."
"What? Saying 'cock' and 'wank'?"
"No, silly, the thought of dirty old George watching us and wanking."
"I don't think so. I think it's rather exciting knowing he's out there
and getting all excited watching me."
"You're a complete slut, you are."
"Now, if only it was Mr Hazel," sighed one.
"Oh, yes. He's dreamy."
"If he got his cock out and masturbated, I wouldn't mind at all."
"You'd run away and hide."
"No I wouldn't. I'd..."
"What would you do?"
"I'd ask him if he needed a hand," she retorted defiantly.
This was greeted with howls of mirth.
"Would you put out for him, Cee?" asked someone when the laughter had
subsided.
"Definitely."
"What? All the way?"
"All the way and back again. He could do whatever he liked."
"Me too," someone said dreamily.
"I think we probably all would, you know. If we were truly honest about
it."
They fell silent and Adam felt his face flaming.
"He's a bit of a wimp, though," said one at last.
"How do you mean?"
"He's not very strict - not like Miss Beech."
"Miss Beech is fierce."
"I like her."
"You would. You're her pet."
"I am not."
"Yes you are. You suck up to her all day."
"I do not."
"Girls, girls," said a soothing voice. "I think we all agree that Miss
Birch - I mean Miss Beech - is quite strict. What do you mean that Mr
Hazel is
a wimp? Haven't we all just said he's a dish?"
"I mean he's really nice and all that but..."
"You want him to spank your bottom."
The girl's dissolved into giggles and Adam fled. He was both incredibly
aroused and more than a bit troubled by what he had heard. And the
mystery that
seemed to envelop this school only deepened.
~~~~~~~
He was a good teacher - he knew he was a good teacher. So why was he
having so much difficulty in connecting with these girls. They weren't
stupid;
far from it. They weren't insolent or badly behaved: the opposite was
the case
- they were better behaved than he would have expected. So what was the
problem?
The 5th year were the worst. He had 5 students for maths - all of them
exceptionally good-looking even in a school full of attractive girls -
and they
knew it. And they knew that he knew it. At first they seemed to be
normal, if
somehow wise beyond their years, schoolgirls. But, as his confusion and
uncertainty increased, they gradually began to change.
It was all very subtle to begin with; a extra touch of make-up here, an
extra undone button there - and the flirting was low-key; too much eye
contact,
coy looks from lowered lashes, a toss of the head, a pout. As the days
went by
the flirting became more open and more brazen. They would stand too
close to
him; sit and stared at him intently all lesson; lounge back in their
chairs so
their breasts were clearly outlined, lifted and out-thrust in miniature
bras;
they would smooth their tight school skirts down their thighs. When he
addressed them, they would slowly run their tongues over their lips before
replying or pout if he had reason to upbraid them. He was not at all
happy with
this but his professional pride made him keep silent and try to ignore
their
teasing. 'It's just a phase,' he told himself. 'If I ignore it they'll
get
tired of it and stop.' But it was hard to ignore and it began to affect
him.
He started to have erotic dreams which disturbed his sleep.
The more he tried to ignore it the worse it got. The other classes
started, moving gradually down the school to the 4th, 3rd and even a few
of the
junior girls. And the provocative behaviour of the upper classes got more
blatant. They started wearing stockings, rather than tights. With
their skirts
being so tight, the presence or absence of suspenders underneath was
obvious.
They wore more make-up and shoes with higher heels. They stopped
wearing bras
altogether. They would sit with their legs apart so he could see their
crotches
- which were covered by a variety of attractive and revealing underwear.
Physics was the worst as they had to move around and he had to come
close to
them to check their experiments. When bending to a low cupboard, for
example,
they would do it with straight legs so their skirts would pull tight
over their
bottoms, revealing the outline of suspenders and lacy panties. They
would reach
up to high shelves on tiptoe with outstretched arms, preferably with the
light
behind them so their breasts were silhouetted, high and firm. When he
bent to
check an experiment, his eyes would meet an indecent amount of cleavage.
He became distracted and found his normal fluid teaching style was
disrupted. The vision of these nubile teenagers displaying themselves so
wantonly began to haunt his waking hours as well as his dreams. He would
imagine the girls in obscenely erotic circumstances. His genitals became
unusually sensitive and painful, and he began to get erections at
inappropriate
moments. He found himself masturbating more and more frequently. His
imaginings shifted to include the younger girls. Even the 1st and 2nd
years
made frequent appearances in his lust-filled nights. He was deeply
ashamed of
himself; of this sudden craving for young girls, of this breakdown of his
professional attitude, of his inability to make real contact with his
students,
of his utter frustration. Never before had he been so intensely
affected by the
students he taught - and so utterly unable to cope. He began to both
dread and
eagerly anticipate his classes. He regretted coming to this
godforsaken place
and seriously wondered if he should resign.
The final straw came when Felicia Romiss bent over to reveal the round,
naked cheeks of her bottom and he realised, with absolute shock, that
she was
wearing a thong. What made it worse was that Felicia had the most perfect,
rounded bottom he had ever seen and was a frequent visitor in his erotic
fantasies. He decided enough was enough and went to consult the Principal.
"What can I do for you, Adam. Everything all right?"
"Actually, I've a slight problem that I'd like your advice about."
"I did wonder. I've noticed you've been a bit, shall I say, distracted
recently and looking distinctly out of sorts."
Adam looked surprised. "To be honest, I've not been sleeping well. That's
part of the problem I wanted to discuss with you."
Anne smiled at him encouragingly and he wished, for an instant, that she
was not so stunningly beautiful.
"It's a bit, er, delicate - and I'd like to approach it in a roundabout
sort of way, if you wouldn't mind," he began, tentatively, looking down
at his
feet.
Anne looked slightly puzzled but indicated he should continue.
"The girls are expected to keep the school dress code at all times?"
"Yes, you know that."
"I'm just trying to establish the groundwork. Please bear with me for a
moment. How much variation is acceptable?"
"In what sense? "
"I mean other than the regulation blouse and skirt and jacket. Shoes, for
example. Or make-up. Or stockings. Or underwear," he blurted out.
"Well," said Anne, looking at him speculatively. "We don't have any hard
and fast rules but ... look, Adam, perhaps you should just come right
out and
tell me what the problem is. I've probably heard a similar one before."
She
smiled.
Adam took a deep breath. "Well, it may be me. Perhaps I'm not coping
with this all-girl environment. I know this sounds silly and a bit
paranoid
but, recently, I believe that a number of girls have started to flaunt
themselves at me. Trying to provoke me - or distract me. And the fact
is -
they're succeeding!"
"Hmm. You'd better give me some details."
So Adam told her about the stockings and the make-up and the high-heeled
shoes and the panties and the lack of bras and the looks and touches.
When he had finished Anne sat back thoughtfully.
"And this is putting you off?"
"I'm afraid it is. I'm a healthy, heterosexual male and they are very
attractive young ladies. And it's not fair on the others if I'm constantly
being distracted by a flash of stocking-top."
"What you need is a girl friend," Anne said smiling.
Adam flushed and opened his mouth to protest but she leaned over and
patted his hand.
"No, sorry. Joke in poor taste. I agree that this behaviour is
unacceptable in class. You've done the right thing in ignoring it as
far as
possible and consulting me. What are we going to do about it? Who are the
worst offenders?"
"Well, there are about 5 altogether but Melanie Harden, Veronica Spelling
and Felicia Romiss are the most blatant."
Anne laughed. "Funnily enough, you do not surprise me. I could probably
have named them myself. They're minxes. The ringleaders in any
trouble." She
looked at him speculatively. "In these circumstances - once a problem
has been
brought to me and I've agreed - there would normally be a punishment
session.
And, as the complainant, you will have to administer it."
Adam sat back in shock. "But ..... "
"No 'buts'," said Anne firmly. "You know our policy and, if I remember
your words at your interview, you said you would carry out school policy."
"Surely there's some other way."
Anne shrugged. "Then you would have already solved the problem and you
wouldn't be here, now. We'll make it after tea tonight. Here."
Adam struggled with his conscience for a few moments. He did not really
believe in corporal punishment but he had agreed to it and he did have a
problem.
He sighed resignedly. "OK, Anne. As you say, it's school policy and I
agreed to it. But I still don't like it. What time?"
"7 o'clock. Be here about 15 minutes beforehand, please."
END of Chapter 3