School of Love Ch. 01

"I want you to remember to call me Emmelle, but you must call me 'Madame' in front of the students and while you're fucking me."

"Of course, madame."

"You're not fucking me yet, master."

Hearing her call me 'master' inflamed my passion for her, and I kissed her deeply.

When we came up for air, she whispered in my ear, "Master, fuck me hard and without mercy".

I sighed, "Oui, madame", as I pushed her down onto the bed. I laid her down, naked except for her stockings, suspender belt and spectacles. She spread her legs wide, giving me an inviting view of her sweet cunt.

I knelt over her, sucking one nipple then the other. I kissed up her neck and chin to her mouth. She returned my kiss with such hunger that I realised that foreplay was over.

Her cunt was wet and well prepared, so my cock slid in. I felt her strong pelvic muscles seize my cock and caress every inch of its ingress.

"Madame, your cunt is so tight!" I exclaimed.

"Say it in French for me, master."

I pulled back so that I could enjoy another languorous stroke inside her. My mind was addled, and my French classes had never taught me how to talk dirty. I started, "Madame, ta...", but didn't know the word.

"Mon con", she proffered.

"Madame, ton con est tellement serré."

"Bien. Alors, baise-moi plus fort, master!"

I understood her carnal desire. I took firm hold of her hips and drove my cock firmly into her cunt. We sighed in harmony at the primal joy of a hard fuck: her breathy coloratura over my guttural baritone. I quickly conducted another downbeat into her, producing a harmonic progression. I continued to piston into her hard and deep.

"Master, destroy me!" she moaned.

Every sinew was aflame as I clamped my hands to her hips and focused all my weight and energy into my cock. Like a martial artist channelling qi to smash a block, I pierced her with my straining cock. I pulled back and returned as a battering ram tearing into a besieged city. My sex sounds became vulgar grunts, as hers became impassioned screams.

I increased speed and fucked her harder than I thought possible. My madame wrapped her legs around my waist, making me mine her deeper and impact her exposed clit with every thrust into her.

"Make me come first, master!" she demanded.

"I'm going to fuck you into oblivion, madame!"

I could feel her getting close, so I eagerly pounded her, grinding her clit firmly with my pubic bone.

She screamed in English and French, "Fuck me! Baise-moi!", both as imperative and interjection.

When I began to think I couldn't maintain this level of vigorous fucking for much longer, her desires rose once again from her coital plateau. Her indecency became rampant, and her body became taut and convulsed in a magnitude of pleasure, as she screamed in absolute abandon. Her cunt closed hard on my cock, but I ploughed on as she writhed in orgasm under me.

I felt my balls tighten, and I knew what I wanted. I pulled myself out of her, and manoeuvred from between her legs. I slid my left hand behind her head and used my right to give three hard pumps of my cock. My cum exploded onto the right lens of her glasses in a milky pool that washed over the curved optic. I shifted her head and my aim so that my second shot covered her other lens. Then she slid her lips over my cock to take my remaining cum in her mouth. She let me fall back against the pillow exhausted, as I looked up at her semen-splattered spectacles and cum-moistened lips.

"Madame, you are an amazing fuck", I told her appreciatively.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to walk, after you fucked me so hard, master."

"You did ask me to destroy you."

"I know, I can feel the bruising. It's good to feel so totally fucked. Lucy wasn't wrong."

"I don't think I fucked Lucy half as hard as I fucked you. Your words turned me into an animal."

"How do my glasses look? I can't see much through them."

"It's just that you're a teacher, so in control, that I needed to deface your glasses with my cum."

"Can I clean them off now?"

I nodded, and she removed her glasses and licked my cum from them slowly so that I could watch.

She placed her glasses on the bedside table and pulled the covers back. We got into bed and lay facing each other, caressing each other, falling asleep.

****

I awoke somewhat groggy, roused by a hand stroking my hair. I blinked my eyes open to see the curtains were drawn back to the azure vista of lake, summit and sky. I could make out Emmelle haloed in sunlight, as she sat on the edge of the bed, teasing me awake with her touch. I blinked again, and drew myself up in bed. Emmelle was dressed in a navy trouser suit, her hair neatly fastened and her glasses not clouded with cum. I wondered whether I had only dreamed of having sex with my new boss.

"You needed a good sleep after the vigorous exertions of last night", she said tenderly with a smile.

So it was true!

"Our taxi will be here in forty minutes, so take a quick shower and join me downstairs for breakfast."

She leant over and kissed my lips delicately. Then she rose, turned and left the room. I hauled myself out of bed, and took a quick shower. I dressed in yesterday's clothes — all my other clothes and belongings had been sent on ahead to the school — and took the elevator down for breakfast.

Emmelle was seated at a table by herself in the airy breakfast restaurant reading a copy of the day's Le Temps newspaper.

As I approached, she looked up from her paper. "Good morning, Ben. Please join me." She gestured to the seat opposite her and gave a sign to the waiter.

She folded her paper out of politeness. "I had muesli, croissant and jam, but I think you'll need something more substantial."

"Oh no, I'm happy to have a Swiss breakfast too, Emmelle."

"I enjoyed you fucking me hard last night, and I hope we can do it again soon. You need to keep your strength up, so I've ordered you an omelette." She didn't moderate her tone, and I'm sure the tables around us had heard her speak of our fucking.

The waiter arrived with a cheese omelette for me, steaming deliciously on the plate, accompanied with a noisette coffee. I thanked both Emmelle and the waiter for the thoughtfully delicious breakfast, and tucked into it.

As I finished my breakfast, she checked her watch — an elegant Cartier, I think.

"We should go."

We rose from the table and walked side by side to the lobby. She signed for my room, our room. I noticed that a young porter had brought down my carry-on bag alongside what I imagined to be her leather overnight bag — she had not been carrying luggage when she arrived at the hotel, so I imagined that she must have orchestrated all of this behind the scenes.

Emmelle turned from the front desk. "Let's go", she said to me, "Viens", to the porter, who followed with our bags. Through the door, we traversed the terrace to the quayside promenade, and crossed the road to the lake's shore, to the hotel's private jetty. Moored at the jetty was a small open launch in royal-blue livery with a golden tree and lettering 'ECOLE CHATEAU DE L'AMOUR' painted along the side. A similar blue burgee bearing the golden-tree emblem flapped in the gentle breeze at the prow of the launch, while the red-and-white Swiss ensign flew from the stern. At the helm of our 'taxi' was a young, petite South East Asian woman wearing a school uniform of royal-blue blazer with the golden-tree badge, white blouse tied with a black ribbon, short black pleated skirt and white knee-length socks.

"Good morning, madame", she greeted Emmelle warmly. "Good morning, master", she said, smiling at me. She took both bags from the porter and stowed them under the covered fore section of the launch.

Emmelle tipped the porter with red twenty-franc note, and then took the young woman's hand as she helped her board the launch. She turned back to me and introduced the woman, "Master, this is Aisyah from Malaysia. She's a 'lauréate' at the school, and she'll be taking us to the château".

"Welcome aboard, master", said Aisyah, as she offered me her hand to bring me on board.

I took her hand and climbed into the launch. "Thank you, Aisyah."

Emmelle guided me to sit with her in the stern of the boat, and Aisyah started the engine. The porter helped Aisyah cast off from the jetty, and she nudged the throttle to ease us away from the side. She pushed back the throttle, and we accelerated out into the lake. Once we were clear of the Ouchy ferry port, Aisyah swung the launch to starboard to follow the shore westwards.

Emmelle unbuttoned and unzipped her woollen trousers, revealing ivory satin knickers. She took my hand, kissed the knuckles, and pushed it down the front of her knickers. "Master, finger me all the way home."

She was slightly wet, and I quickly worked two fingers into her cunt. As Aisyah navigated along the lake, she didn't look back to see me fingering her madame.

Emmelle leant back, watching the water lap against the side of the boat, allowing her breasts to rise and fall with deep breaths as she enjoyed my fingers gently fucking her. I adjusted my angle so that my thumb could diddle her clit at the same time, making her moan under the sound of the engine.

Along the shore, the promenade was populated with little parks, playgrounds, and even a minigolf course. We passed the lakefront of the university campus, before that gave way to suburban West Lausanne.

All the while, my fingers mimicked the strokes of the launch's engine.

Slightly breathless, Emmelle sighed, "This is the village of Saint-Sulpice. We're almost there. Make me come now!"

There was not much room for technique, but I ground the pad of my thumb against her clit, while edging a third finger into her now well-moistened cunt. Her back arched with this renewed pleasure. Encouraged, I ploughed on. When she found her orgasm she came in rapid, tender mews and sighs against my shoulder.

She grasped my wrist, eased my dank hand from her knickers, and sharply refastened her navy trousers.

"Here we are: this is the mouth of the river Venoge, and here are the school grounds." She gestured toward the geography of the shore.

The river emerged into the lake, creating a broad promontory on which stood the fifteenth-century château I recognised from the pictures. The grey-stone castle was surrounded by a cluster of charming wooden buildings in the Swiss style, interspersed with manicured lawns. The school grounds were bordered by the river Venoge to the west, Lake Léman to the south, and a small wooded area around the other sides.

Aisyah eased up on the throttle to a gentle purr, and nudged the launch towards the shore. A small pier jutted from a wooden boathouse that sat on the secluded beach that fringed the lakeside. As we drew alongside the pier, she took the engine down to a lazy beat, to a crawl. As we approached the boathouse, automatic doors opened to reveal a floating wet-dock boat garage. Aisyah eased the launch inside and cut the engine. With the bowline held over her shoulder, she leapt from the launch onto the small interior dock. Her miniskirt flew up mid-leap giving a clear view of her white cotton knickers. She tied up the boat fore and aft, and offered Emmelle her hand to disembark.

We thanked Aisyah, and Emmelle lead me through a door at the back of the sizeable boathouse out into the dappled September sun.

Emmelle started to show me around. "Aisyah is the elected commodore of our school's yacht club. She loves boats, and can be found down here when she's not in class. Our boathouse has quite a collection, from rowing boats and racing sculls to larger sailing and motor boats. Our beach is down here." She pointed past the end of the boathouse to where wooden steps descended to a secluded patch of sand lapped by the lake. "We even have a sauna here", she said pointing to a small pinewood hut behind the beach. "The student council demanded it three years ago. The girls love it."

We passed the sauna, and I saw the school grounds laid out before me. A broad well-kept lawn swept down from the grand château to the boathouse. Lining the route, on each side, were generously proportioned Swiss chalets: three-storey wooden lodges with quaint verandas and gently pitched roofs. Boxes of geraniums decorated each chalet.

****

Emmelle led me up to the second chalet on the left. It's name 'Clio' was carved in a wooden board at the foot of the steps up to its veranda.

"This is Clio, the house you will be responsible for as master: just ten girls."

We ascended to the veranda, where a young Japanese woman in the school's royal-blue blazer, black miniskirt and knee-high white socks stood to attention outside the main door.

"This is Sakura. She is a 'royale', one of our few fourth-year students. She has a lot of experience. She has a bachelor's degree from Keio University, and is now studying for a master's degree in linguistics at Lausanne. She is the head girl of your house. Her role is to make sure that the students in your house behave themselves, and to assist you as master."

"Welcome, master", said Sakura with a slight bow of her head. Rather than using her black ribbon to tie her collar as Aisyah had done, Sakura wore hers as a choker, knotted at her throat.

Emmelle addressed me, "I shall go up to the château now; there's always administration to be done. I leave you in Sakura's hands, and let her show you around the house and to your new apartment." She turned to Sakura and added, "Sakura, report to me after you have shown your new master around".

"Oui, madame!" she replied cheerfully.

Emmelle leant in and we exchanged the customary three cheek kisses. Then she descended the steps, and made her way up the path towards the château. I watched her walk away: the prim directrice by day, incendiary sex goddess by night. I was confused.

"Welcome, master", repeated Sakura as she held open the door to the chalet.

Inside was an elegantly decorated open-plan living area. Abstract art hung on the walls, and comfortable couches surrounded a stone fireplace.

"This is our common area", began Sakura, her accent a mixture of French and Japanese. "The girls relax here in our spare time. It is not cold enough for us to light the fire yet, but it is most welcoming when it's needed. There is a small kitchen and dining table, and we have ping-pong here next to our X-Box, for relaxation."

We toured the open-plan ground floor, and then she led me to the wooden stairs, cantilevered up the side wall.

"Above we have the girls' dormitories."

The top of the stairs met with an open wooden balcony overlooking the living area below. As we neared the top, a tall, blonde girl crossed the balcony wearing only a thin cotton bathrobe that barely reached halfway down her thigh.

Sakura introduced me to her, "This is Hanna from Germany. She's a 'phaselle', a second-year pre-uni student in the house".

"Welcome, master", said Hanna, and she gave the same little bow that Sakura had given me.

I thought to myself that perhaps this wasn't a Japanese thing, but part of the school's discipline.

Hanna continued, "Please excuse me for my state of undress. I've just had gymnastics, and am about to take a shower". She gave another slight bow and continued along the balcony, her bathrobe barely covering her athletic ass.

"This is the dormitory for the pre-uni students", Sakura continued, leading through a door, "our pre-uni students are 18 and 19 year-old school leavers who study with us before going off to university. We currently have five students in this grouping in Clio".

The dormitory was large and airy, with a beautiful picture window looking out over the lake. Five single beds were arranged around the room, each accompanied with its own personal space. On one of the beds, a woman's gym kit lay in a crumpled heap, recently vacated by Hanna's hot body, no doubt.

Sakura led me back onto the balcony. I looked down and saw a black girl in the same school uniform below, stretched out on the couch reading a book. Sakura led me into the next room. It was similar to the last, but perhaps a bit more tastefully decorated.

"We have four more students in here: this is the dormitory for our post-uni students. We're all in our early twenties, so a little older than the others, and it's good to have a separate dorm from the younger ones. You'll meet everyone soon, but most are out at studies. Many of the post-uni students take master's degrees at the Uni, the polytechnic, the art school or other nearby places."

We walked back out onto the balcony.

This time, the young black woman looked up and called, "Hi!"

"Martha, this is our new master; show some respect!" Sakura called down angrily.

At that, the girl jumped up, dropping her book, and gave a little bow. In an American accent, she called up, "Sorry, master. I hope you like your new home with us. Clio is really the best".

"Hi Martha! It's good to meet you", I shouted down cheerfully, attempting to soften Sakura's disciplinarian introduction.

Sakura turned to me and whispered, "Martha is a 'profane' from the United States. She's a first-year post-uni, but she didn't study here before uni. She'll definitely be taking your classes".

We moved along the balcony, and Sakura gestured for me to go through the third door. This was the bathroom, sparkling clean, with little bottles of expensive toiletries between the white sinks, and four toilet cubicles facing four shower cubicles. Sakura followed me into the bathroom, making me move further in. The sound of water flowing in one of the showers made me turn to see Hanna washing herself. Even though the shower screen was lightly frosted, it left little to the imagination. The tall, blond, athletic, German 19-year-old was standing naked under the water jets, massaging shampoo into her scalp, with her breasts jiggling with the movement.

"Hanna, you've got a great body", called Sakura, as she caught me openly ogling her.

"Thanks, Saku!" Hanna called back from the shower.

Sakura began to leave, and I thought it better to beat a retreat before Hanna realised her new master had seen her in the shower. The far end of the balcony gave way to another wooden staircase leading up to the next level.

"And we live up in the attic, master", Sakura said as she led me up the stairs. "As head girl in the house, I have my own room next to the master's apartment".

At the top of the stairs was another balcony that looked down through the chalet to the communal level below. Two armchairs and a table were set out on the balcony.

"Here is a good place for the master and I to sit and keep an eye on all the girls", Sakura continued. She opened the door at the top of the stair and gestured that I go in. Inside was a smallish bedroom with a double bed, decorated with pretty curtains and J-pop posters. "This is my little room. I live right across from you if you ever need me, master", she said, smiling warmly.

I turned to follow her back out onto the upper balcony, but spotted a light-blue rabbit vibrator sat openly on her bedside table. It was going to be hard living in a chalet full of young women knowing that there was a naked German in the showers below and a horny Japanese woman frigging herself next door.

She led me into my apartment and handed me my keys. My apartment was open-plan, with a living area and galley kitchen, opening onto a small study and a bedroom. It offered stunning panoramic views both down to the lake and up to the château. I saw that my books had arrived and had been put on the large bookcase in the study, with my hobby telescope set up beside it. The bed was a handsomely appointed king size.

"Welcome to your new home, master. All your books are in the bookcase. We've laundered all your clothes and put them in the closet", she said, opening the closet door near the bed. "Your private bathroom is here", she opened another door, "With a bath and a shower, as I'm sure you won't want to share with us downstairs". She grinned at me with that last comment. Walking back to the study desk, she leafed through the files that had been placed there. "Here's all the basic information you'll need about the school, your schedule, and the student files on all the girls in Clio." She picked out one of the files, opened it, and showed me her name and an old photo of her on the top page. She left it open in the middle of my desk. "Make yourself at home. Would you like me to make you a coffee?"