The English Teacher

All participants in these events were aged at least 18 at the time.

*

I attended an all girls private school which was a good school but it did have drawbacks such as the strict uniform code. The girls in the local comprehensive school could wear sweatshirts and trousers but we were forced to wear very traditional uniform which made us look the archetypal schoolgirl so when we were out in the city we felt like magnets for every pervert for miles. The boys from the comprehensive used to drool over us. Of course sometimes it was fun to enjoy the power which we had to make their hands slip into trouser pockets to ease the pressure but not all the males who enjoyed the sight of our white socks, grey skirts and crisp white blouses were young enough to be at school.

Of course the other drawback of our school was the absence of boys which meant that crushes among girls were fairly common. That is where this story begins because I had an almighty crush on Georgia who was in my Sixth Form year when we were doing our A levels. I would love to watch just the way that she moved and to hear her voice and when we had gym I could not resist surreptitiously watching her in the changing room and the showers. All that would have been fine but I had to go and write the letter.

It was never intended to be sent; it was just one of those things which girls write for fun to get our thoughts out on paper.

I can still see almost every word before my eyes now...

"My beloved Georgie, how I adore your firm slim body and the sight of your thick bush as you come out of the shower with your lovely puffy lips between your thighs. Your lovelips are much more developed than mine and I dream of squeezing their marshmallow softness and stroking your flat belly then working my tongue up your soft skin up to your round, full breasts...."

Well it went on a lot like that but what went wrong was that I was reading it during a boring bit in an English class and I saw Miss Adamson heading towards my desk so I slipped my guilty little letter between the pages of my exercise book. Of course you can guess what happened next; I forgot what I had done and handed in the book for marking at the end of the lesson. How could I have been so stupid? I realised what I had done as I was making my way down the corridor to my next lesson but it was too late.

For two days and nights I tortured myself as I waited for the axe to fall. I tried to make myself think that Miss A would not see the loose page and would mark and return the book with no harm done but what were the chances of that? Perhaps she would see it and just take it as a joke and ignore it but I knew that was a false hope. The Laurels made a lot of fuss about turning out moral young ladies and I knew something terrible would happen to me. I lay awake at night imagining what it might be. Would they make me read the dreadful letter out in Assembly or perhaps they would feel they had a moral duty to warn parents of the "moral danger" I presented. "Dear Parents, we feel it is our duty to warn you about Julie. If your daughters report any improper advances from this girl please report them to The Head for firm action to be taken." Or worse than that would they call my Mum and Dad in to see The Head and suggest that it was best for me to be removed from the school? How would I ever face my parents again?

Every minute that I was at school I expected to be summoned to see The Head or perhaps Miss Adamson and it happened on the Thursday morning after the English lesson. I had sat in terrible tension for the whole lesson and as we were filing out of the room Miss A stood beside the door so that I had to walk past her.

"Julie could you come to my office as soon as the lunch bell sounds today please."

There was no explanation but her voice was quite stern. Miss A was Head of English and she was also a Housemistress so she had her own small room in the Admin Block and I had been summoned. Were my days at The Laurels about to come to a humiliating end?

Of course being in her room as soon as the bell rang was impossible so I raced along the corridors as fast I could without breaking the rule about running and I arrived hot, breathless and nervous.

She was sitting behind her paper-strewn desk and right in front of her was my letter which, of course, was in my handwriting so there was no chance of denying my authorship. She held the letter up between two fingers as if it was contaminated and she asked me to explain. I stammered through a sort of incoherent sentence which I think contained words like "Joke..Bit of fun..silly game" and her face showed that she was unconvinced. Then she told me to read it aloud.

I was stunned. She had already read it, why did she need me to read it to her? Of course it was all part of the psychological warfare; she was deliberately humiliating me. I stood there trying to keep my feet still and feeling my face flushing red hot as I tried to apply my best reading aloud voice; this was truly horrible.

Then she asked what I thought she ought to do about it. I could not face her.

"Don't know Miss."

"Well I have to know. I have to do something don't I? Do you have any idea of the seriousness of this?"

I mumbled that it was not really serious as I had not actually DONE anything but that was not the right thing to say. She made her anger very plain.

"Not done anything? How do you think your classmates would feel if they knew that every time they changed for Gym they were being weighed up as sexual partners? What will their parents say about their daughters being abused in this way?"

She had beaten me into silence and my lower lip was trembling. I was having to work really hard at not bursting into tears and then she asked if I had any Gym lessons scheduled for the remainder of the week. I told her that I had Gym the following morning and she sighed deeply.

"I will tell Miss Cheesley you are doing a job for me. Come and see me in The Library at the start of your Gym period. I don't want you anywhere near the showers, changing room or the swimming pool and I don't want you touching or eying up any girl at all. Can I trust you or do I have to warn the Reeves to keep a watch on you?"

I could not believe what I was hearing. She was talking about making me a total outcast but I assured her that she could trust me. A very dark cloud had settled on me and it did not lift. Girls of our age routinely hug as a greeting and whenever any of my friends came near me I drew away in case word got back to Miss A that I was breaking her trust.

So on Friday morning I reported to The Library and Miss A led me into her storeroom and gave very detailed instructions for the tidying up which I was to do instead of joining my fellows on the sports field. I then expected her to bustle off and leave me to my chores but she had a shock for me.

"Give me your skirt."

I just stood there in shocked silence. Surely I had misheard.

"Come on girl. I need to know that you will stay in this room and I am hoping that losing your skirt means you will not dare wander the school."

Looking at the floor I reached behind myself and unzipped my skirt then I stepped out of it and handed it over. Even our Victorian school did not insist on regulation knickers so I was now in my white kneesocks and bright pink cotton briefs which did very little to hide the shape of my pussylips. Miss Adamson swept out of the room shutting the door behind her. The tasks which she had set for me were quite ambitious bearing in mind that I only had an hour so I set to work but it felt very odd being here in just my knickers and I was terrified that someone would come in and find me. My captor did not return till ten minutes after the lunch bell and I could hear girls outside the storeroom door in The Library. I had finished my tasks but was now coming to think that she would leave me here for the entire lunchbreak.

Suddenly she was back and she left me in my knickers as she made a quick inspection of the room to see what I had done then she handed me my skirt and stood watching me as I dressed but she was not finished with me.

"I still have to decide what to do with you. Come to my cottage after school. You can phone your mum to say you have a detention."

I had to join the rest of the school in the dining room but as soon as I had eaten I took myself off to a quiet spot behind the sports pavilion where I hoped no-one would find me. I just could not bear being with anyone in case I suddenly started blubbing. I used my mobile phone to call home and told the answering machine that I had volunteered to clean the Library Store for Miss Adamson.

Now you need to know a bit about Miss Adamson. She looked only a bit older than some of her girls although, to have reached the position of Head of English, she must have been quite a reasonable age. She lived alone in an old cottage in the school grounds. The cottage had been built for a favourite servant when the school was a private manor house. Miss Adamson was always very smart in a stylish, under-stated way and there was gossip about her among the girls who wondered how such an attractive woman had remained single. Sometimes we used to giggle about the fact that her cottage overlooked the sports field and we imagined her behind her net curtains watching us play hockey in our short games skirts with our young boobs bouncing in the confines of tight t shirts. This speculation about Miss A made my present plight all the more bitter. We had no actual evidence of her sexual leanings but it was a cruel irony that she was punishing me for...what she was punishing me for.

So at 4.45 that Friday I stood on her doorstep and jangled the brass bell beside the door. When she came to the door I noticed that she had changed into a pale green cotton skirt and a darker green blouse with pink embroidery down the front. Her well-shaped legs were bare and she was wearing black, flat shoes.

She ushered me down the narrow passage to her stone-flagged kitchen at the rear of the cottage and she seated herself beside the scrubbed pine table as I stood silently waiting for her to speak.

"Well Julie so it seems from your letter that you dream of undressing young Georgie. Is that correct?"

"No Miss, I...."

"I think you see her in her smart uniform and you think you would like to strip her and use her for your sexual pleasure without a thought of how humiliating that would be for her."

I was burning with the injustice of this but I knew there was no point in arguing. Miss A was talking about making the punishment fit the crime and curing me of my unhealthy obsession; I did not really take in the details but her last line brought me back to reality with a shock.

"Take off your clothes."

"Miss?"

"Julie you are not in a position to stand there and ask stupid questions. I am trying very hard to decide whether to simply walk you along to The Head right now and I will do just that unless you are completely undressed by the time I count to five. One."

This was awful. Being made to strip like this was bad enough but I have told you about how we suspected Miss A was not exactly hetrosexual so it felt like undressing and being watched by a man. But I knew I was trapped so I desperately dragged off my red cardigan and began to fumble urgently with the buttons on my white blouse. The blouse joined the cardigan on the table as she reached a count of two and a half and my fingers felt as fat as sausages as I stood wriggling with my hands behind me working on the clasp of my brief white bra.

I felt her eyes burning into my small boobs as I kicked off my shoes and dragged my skirt down and off.

"Four."

My heart was thumping. I knew that what I was doing was so far away from normal behaviour as to be beyond description but I had to complete this ghastly strip before she reached five. I peeled my knickers off and left them on the floor as I hopped from foot to foot and cast off my socks leaving my bare feet on the cold stone floor. I ended up panting and very aware of my chest moving up and down and my knickers and socks strewn around my feet. I had one arm folded across my boobs and one hand inadequately covering my dark triangle of fuzz. Miss A stood up and made no secret of the fact that she was staring at my naked body.

"Put your hands on your head like the bad girl you are."

The events of the past week had stripped away my will and I immediately obeyed feeling very vulnerable and small. Still her inspection continued then she walked behind me and I felt her warm fingers stroke my bum. My lip turned inwards then she was in front of me again and I saw her gather up my clothes from the floor and the table. To my horror she put all my clothes into a wooden cupboard and dropped the key into her skirt pocket then turned towards me with an evil grin.

"Do you think Georgia would like to see you now little Julie?"

I shook my head while keeping my hands in place on my head. She moved towards me so that she was inches in front of me with her eyes still raking every part of my boobs and my most private area. Suddenly my heart almost stopped in mid thump as the doorbell jangled. Miss Adamson's voice was back to the sharp commanding tone which she had used back in the Library store room.

"Don't move a muscle."

She hurried back up the passageway to the front door and I heard the voice of Mr Berry who taught art. Miss Adamson was chatting to him in a welcoming tone as she brought him back to the kitchen.

"Don't mind Julie. We are just dealing with a little disciplinary issue."

I could use words like "embarrassment" or "humiliation" but the English language just does not have words to describe how I was feeling. Mr Berry was probably in his thirties and some girls had crushes on him. He was enjoying an unrestricted view of the most secret parts of me and I would have to sit in front of him for every art lesson till the end of the year. It was clear that Miss A had arranged for her visitor to come at this time so she had deliberately set me up for what was happening to me now. They sat at the table with her back to me and him facing me over her shoulder so that he had a clear view of naked Julie as they talked about whether the art department could provide scenery for a play which she was preparing for the end of term.

The clock was on the wall behind me so I had no idea of how long I stood there with the chill from the floor penetrating my feet and the chill from the air contrasting with the searing heat in my face. I was trying not to meet the art teacher's eyes so I was staring straight ahead at nothing but I could not keep my eyes from straying towards him to see if he was watching me and, of course, his eyes rarely left my body.

Eventually I became aware that they were winding up their business and they stood up. I was willing him to leave as quickly as possible but Miss Adamson had another idea of how to humiliate me.

"Dave. Do you remember you were talking about introducing the girls to life drawing?"

This opened up a whole new conversation and guess who she was proposing as a model. They discussed which age groups should take part in the project and Mr Berry thought that, as figure drawing was generally considered difficult, it was best to start as early as possible and continue up through the school so that the girls kept honing their skills. They were discussing me as if I were not there and I did not dare to say a word.

"So perhaps we could arrange for Julie to visit each art group in turn so that they all became familiar with the subject...."

"Would you say she is a good subject?"

He walked around me like a man inspecting a used car.

"Well the small bust development is not typical for her age but that could be used as an example of how the artist can compensate for short comings in the model by using creativity. After all drawing is not supposed to be like photography. Do you think we could trim the pubic hair? The labia can be quite hard to get right and if we remove the hair it gives much more detail."

And so it went on as they discussed their project seemingly unaware that I was a human being whom they were proposing to expose naked to every girl in the school. All I could do was to stand there trying not to think of the comments which would be thrown at me every break time. "Julie the stripper....Miss Tiny Tits....Floppy Fanny."

Finally she saw him out and came back to me. She flopped down on a chair and told me that I could lower my aching arms which I did with quite unnatural gratitude bearing in mind that it had been she who had put me into that position in the first place. I kept my arms at my sides not daring to cover up without being given permission.

"Naked bodies are not really so much fun as you thought are they?"

"No Miss."

She stood up and put her arm gently around my shoulders.

"I hope you've learned that girls like us have to be careful Julie."

What was she saying? Did she mean...?

She spoke quietly.

"Come with me."

And she led me up her winding staircase and into a lilac bedroom overlooking the sports field where our second team were playing against the comp at hockey. Miss Adamson sank down onto the bed and pulled me down beside her. Her arm went around me and pulled me into her body. As I looked towards her she placed a finger on my lips then she removed the finger and gave me such a delicate little kiss as she began to unbutton her blouse. I just sat there feeling loved and comfortable as she cast her blouse onto the floor and removed her bra.

Her breasts were pear shaped and quite round and full underneath. She took my hands and placed one on each of her breasts then she shimmied out of her skirt leaving herself in just a little pair of lemon lacy briefs.

Once again her arm went around me and she laid back pulling me down with her. I was aware of the girlish shouts from the hockey field as our lips met and her tongue began to explore my mouth; it seemed so natural to respond in kind and I felt her hand on my thigh. The hand moved to my pussy and began to stroke my intimate lips as I parted my legs to indicate willingness. She was urging me to touch her and I gladly did so as the room began to fill with gentle moans of satisfaction. My teacher whispered that I should help her out of her knickers and I did so, feeling that this could not be real. She had a neatly trimmed fuzzbush and her lips down there were lovely and puffy and so soft to the touch. She must have showered just before I arrived because all her skin, especially her pussy, had a delicate scent of lily of the valley.

I cannot give you a proper blow by blow account of the action because my mind was so full of endorphins that it was no longer keeping accurate records but I know that our tongues explored every part of each other's bodies and we were still entwined there as the light began to fade and the noise from the hockey match ceased. I so loved the salty taste of her pussy and the texture of her tongue as it ticked my own cleft that time for me ceased to have any meaning but my mature lover was in control. She whispered to me in the gloom.

"You have to go my love."

I knew she was right but it was such an effort to leave her warm bed and go downstairs where she gave me back my clothes. Claire (first names now) drove me home but I had left her my knickers as a souvenir so that I could think of her fingers caressing my most intimate garment and perhaps her nose breathing in my smell. When we pulled up outside my house her hand eased up my skirt and gave me a lovely squeeze as she explained that she could not kiss me goodnight in case we were seen.

Of course that was only the first of our secret meetings. Sometimes I would find an excuse to stay late after school "To help Miss Adamson with cataloguing the library" and sometimes we would have clandestine meetings at weekends. I loved creeping up to her cottage or even sometimes spending a whole weekend at a hotel having told my mum that I was having a sleepover; well I was having a sleepover.