Always Another Way

Always Another Way

The door slammed and Stephanie came in, her face purple with anger. She threw her handbag on the chair and flopped down shaking her head.

"That bitch of a teacher has hated me since I started as a teaching assistant in her year. She's nothing but a two-faced cow!" she was still raging.

"What's up Steph? I've never seen you this angry before!" her husband, Ian, looked concerned and went to put his arm around her.

It had been 'parents evening' at their daughter's school and Steph had been asked to attend a meeting with her head of year, Ms Gray - Steph's arch enemy! The school had already sent letters to the parents of children who had breached uniform policy and their daughter, Eve, was one of those warned.

As it is with young girls, school uniform had been turned into 'fashion' and short skirts were definitely 'en-vogue' in her class. Steph had deliberately turned a blind eye and allowed Eve to break school rules on a regular basis. With all myriad of other problems in school, she did not believe that the length of skirts was important enough to make a fuss of.

During the meeting, Steph and Ms Gray managed to get themselves into a heated argument about the pros and cons of applying school rules to the 'letter of the law' and 'what exactly constitutes good parenting skills.' It was unfortunate that this disagreement took place in plain sight of other teachers, parents and pupils. It was even more unfortunate that Steph lost her temper, saw red, and slapped Ms Gray across her face and called her a "stuck-up bitch."

Mr Fairhurst, the headmaster was close at hand and quickly intervened, ushering the angry teacher away. He then took Steph to his office and suspended her from her duties as a Teaching Assistant. His parting comment to her was, "This will have to go further, Stephanie. I will be in touch with you once everything has calmed down."

"What did Ms Gray say that made you so angry?" Ian asked.

"She accused me of deliberately sending Eve to school in clothes that don't conform with their stupid uniform policy.....she.... virtually accused us of being bad parents!" she replied.

"I don't think that slapping her across the face was a very good idea, whatever the provocation. The repercussions could be pretty serious," he pointed out. "You could be sacked.......or worse!"

"How can it possibly be worse than being sacked?" she answered.

"You hit her......that's technically assault!"

"I only slapped her face lightly. She had it coming. She provoked me. She should be sacked, not me!"

"Look, I'll try and catch up with the headmaster at the golf club tomorrow for a quiet word. Let's see where we go from there," he said thoughtfully.

After a restless night's sleep, Ian arrived at the golf club. He usually ran into the headmaster on the driving range, but as it turned out he was already waiting for him. They moved out of the earshot of others. He explained that Ms Gray was very upset and humiliated by the unsavoury situation and strongly felt that her authority as a teacher had been undermined. He agreed that Ms Gray could be a difficult and abrasive character, but in his position, he had no choice but to support his teacher. He also mentioned that there was still a real possibility that Ms Gray would take matters further and report Stephanie to the police for assault.

This was bad news! If Steph was to be prosecuted it could not only put her job in jeopardy, but a criminal record could follow her around like a bad smell for the rest of her life. It could also mean that she may not be granted a visa to visit the USA or Australia, where they had family and friends.

Back home, once Ian spelled out the potentially dire implications of having a criminal record, realisation hit home and Steph broke down in tears. It would be a complete and utter disaster for them both. Surely Ms Gray wouldn't be spiteful enough to take it that far, would she?.....The old cow probably would!

The next day Steph received a text message from the headmaster asking her to attend a meeting to try and prevent any legal action by Ms Gray. Ian and Steph talked about what she should say in her defence, but whichever way they tried to spin her story, it couldn't be denied that Steph had struck another teacher in front of witnesses.

Mr Fairhurst was very old-fashioned and dressed like a character in a Victorian novel. He was nearing retirement age, lived on his own and Ian always thought there was something slightly creepy about him. He had a tendency to leer at women and Ian had previously noticed him trying to catch a look down Steph's blouse.

"That's it, distraction tactics! That's what you need to do!" Ian announced in a 'Eureka' style moment of inspiration.

"What on earth do you mean?" Steph replied.

"We all know that old man Fairhurst is a bit creepy, but we also know he likes to ogle attractive women. You should wear a short skirt, flash a bit of leg, some cleavage and play 'the victim'. You never know, he may be lenient on you."

"That might work on Fairhurst, but what about Ms Gray?"

"Your meeting is with Fairhurst only, so it's got to be worth a try, hasn't it?"

Against Steph's better judgement, and in desperation, she agreed to dress for the meeting in a short skirt with stocking and suspenders (Ian's idea!) and a low-cut white blouse, showing plenty of cleavage. She was only in her mid- 30's but could easily pass for a twenty-something. She was gym fit and had a great figure, so dressing to look sexy was not difficult.

The meeting was arranged behind closed doors in his study, after school had finished for the day. As Steph entered the room, the headmaster took a long lingering look at her body. His eyes positively lit up. He liked what he saw. Steph had dressed smartly and just a little provocatively. She had made the effort to put on full make-up, bright red lipstick and had curled her shoulder length blonde hair, it looked as if she was going on a date. The beady eyes of the old man took more than a passing interest in the swelling of her creamy tits. The push-up bra had obviously done its work!

She sat on a straight-backed chair and crossed her legs making sure that the clasp of her black suspender belt and stocking tops were just on show. He noticed, licked his lips and stared openly at the unexpectedly wonderful sight in front of him!

To start the proceedings, Mr Fairhurst outlined the seriousness of the allegations made by Ms Gray that Steph had physically assaulted her. He then asked her to explain, in her own words, what had happened and the reason why she acted so violently.

Steph tried to explain her frustration regarding Ms Gray's over-zealous approach to her daughter's slightly short skirt and her complete lack of empathy. She accused Ms Gray of picking on Eve, when other girls in her class had worn identical skirts.

When questioned about the slap, Steph did not have a valid explanation for her actions and eventually burst into tears, admitting that she should not have resorted to violence. She apologised profusely and begged for forgiveness. Through her sobs, she explained that she really needed her job and if she was sacked it would be a huge problem, financially and logistically, for them as a family.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs a few times, making sure her stocking tops showed. After a lengthy discussion the headmaster pointed out;

"You cannot resort to violence when you get frustrated. You are a Teaching Assistant and you should know better. What sort of an example are you setting to the children?"

"I know, I'm truly sorry..... I really am. What can I do to make it up to Ms Gray and what happens to me now?" she asked.

"Ms Gray still wants to take the matter to the police, but in the best interests of the school, I have stopped her from doing that. I therefore have limited choices. I could suspend you without pay for a substantial period of time, pending a full investigation or I could dismiss you right here, right now for gross misconduct.

Unfortunately, both options would be very disruptive and time consuming for the school, as we would have to find a replacement for you. To be honest, nobody here wants to see you dismissed for one lapse in behaviour, but Ms Gray has to 'save face' and needs to be satisfied that some sort of justice is served. I am at an impasse, so what do you suggest I do?" he asked the tearful Steph.

"I....I don't know. Please don't sack me. It will never happen again. Please believe me it is so out of character for me. I have never done anything wrong before. Please...please" she sobbed.

"In the good old days, I could have dealt with you like a naughty schoolgirl and delivered six of the best with the cane. A bit of pain, then it would be over and we could move on. Ah, those were the days!" he smiled to himself as he reminisced.

Steph looked at him in astonishment. "You are joking.... aren't you?" she said suspiciously.

Looking straight at her stocking tops he replied, "As much as I would love to lift that short skirt and cane your delightful backside - it is more than my job's worth! It's a shame, really - it would have resolved it all quite nicely. An eye for an eye, and all that! I'm sure Ms Gray would have approved - she was always happy to dish out corporal punishment back in her day!"

"I....I just wish there was another way," said Steph.

"Mmmmm. Perhaps there is another way! It may be a little unconventional perhaps......"

"P....please, I'll do anything to keep my job!"

"You do understand that Ms Gray wants to take this matter further and will not be satisfied unless you also suffer some pain and humiliation?"

Steph nodded. "Yes, I know, all too well!"

"Well, as I said it is a bit unconventional..... but here is a business card for a bespoke uniform supplier I know. You must go there and mention my name to the proprietor Mr Havisham. It is strictly by appointment only and he will arrange to fit you out with a school uniform. You must then return here and wear it for Ms Gray to see. If she is happy, all legal and disciplinary action will be dropped and we can move on. Do you agree to these terms and conditions young lady?"

Steph paused to think about it. "I thought you said that my punishment would be pain and humiliation. If coming in to see Ms Gray wearing a school uniform is the humiliation part - where is the pain part?" she asked.

"Well spotted my dear! My good friend Mr Havisham will be able to answer that question for you when you go to see him! You did say you would do anything to keep your job.......didn't you?" he reminded her of the perilous predicament she was in.

"If I agree.... there will be no further actions, and my slate will be wiped clean?" she asked.

"Absolutely. You have my word on that."

"Ok, I agree. I'll do it for the sake of my job," she reluctantly mumbled.

"Excellent! I have used the services of Mr Havisham's fine establishment on many occasions, especially in difficult and delicate circumstances, just like this one. I'm sure you will find the process quite enlightening! You must understand that this is a strictly confidential arrangement and you must not disclose any details to others. If you do, the deal will be withdrawn and the disciplinary action will be back on the table."

"And, oh yes, just to complete the circle - when you come back to school wearing your uniform, I will allow you to make your argument to Ms Gray regarding short skirts being acceptable - if you think it is still valid of course!" he looked over his glasses and grinned at her.

Steph left the headmaster's office with a brown-coloured business card in her hand. The gold writing had faded, but was still legible;

Havisham Uniform Supplies Ltd - Bespoke Services

Steph decided to strike while the iron was hot and rang for an appointment straight away. In her mind, the sooner this sorry episode was over and done with, the better. She called number on the card and spoke to Mr Havisham himself. She asked for a uniform fitting appointment and mentioned Mr Fairhurst's name, as requested.

"So, my dear, is the appointment for your daughter?"

"...er no it's for me."

"Ah, I see. Are you one of Mr Fairhurst's referrals?"

"...er. Yes"

Almost immediately Mr Havisham's tone changed and he talked to her as if she was a schoolgirl, rather than a grown woman. He gave her specific instructions on how to find his shop, the exact time she must be there and even what clothing she should wear for the appointment. It was very specific and somewhat intrusive; black stockings and suspenders under a black skirt and white blouse. His parting demand was that she must shave off her pubic hair before the fitting and not wear a bra!!

"What the hell have I got myself into, and what kind of a shop is it where you are required to shave yourself and not wear a bra?" she thought to herself. The fact was, she was totally committed to this and couldn't back out without serious consequences.

Embarrassingly, she was forced to disclose the details of the meeting to her husband. To her disgust, he was pleased at the outcome and took an immediate, unhealthy interest in his beautiful wife having to shave off her pubes and be fitted for a school uniform. His more than generous offer of 'shaving assistance' was flatly turned down by Steph as she was getting more and more apprehensive about her mysterious appointment at the shop the next day.

Havisham Uniform Supplies Ltd. was situated in a small town about 20 miles away and Steph followed directions to a narrow alleyway with small shops down either side. As most places had already closed for the evening, there were very few people about. When she reached the address on the business card, there were no lights on and no signs of life inside. The door was locked so she peered through the window and could make out a selection of uniforms in the fading light, so she knew that she was at the correct place

She pressed the doorbell and waited with butterflies in her stomach. She half-hoped that nobody would answer and they had forgotten about her visit, but her hopes were dashed when a light at the back of the shop came on and an old man walked slowly to the door. He peered through the glass on the door to see who was there. A key turned and the door opened slightly.

"Stephanie?" he asked through the small opening.

"Yes. I have an appointment," she smiled a nervous smile.

"Ah, good! I am Mr Havisham, the proprietor of the establishment. Come. Come." He opened the door and beckoned her into the shop, looking out to see if anyone in the street had noticed his late-night customer. He locked, then bolted the door and lowered the blinds.

Mr Havisham wore a brown tweed suit with a waistcoat and an old-fashioned pocket watch and chain. Physically, he was of average build with thinning hair and a greying, wiry moustache. He had half- moon wire framed reading glasses on end of his nose and an old yellow cloth tape measure around his neck. He did look rather distinguished, as if he had been in the military as a younger man.

"So, old man Fairhurst sent you here, did he?"

"Yes, he did."

"Ah, you must have been a very naughty young lady then! All the customers he refers to me have usually done something pretty bad......but obviously that's none of my business, so I'll say no more. The good news is that you are here now, so I will try to provide my usual high standard of service."

He turned on the lights and looked her up and down again.

"There is a changing room at back of shop. Feel free to have a wander around. I will be along shortly to measure you."

Steph wandered around the racks a little aimlessly, unsure what she was expected to pick. It wasn't just skirts, blouses, sweaters and knee socks. The shop had shorts and t-shirts for gym class, and even a lingerie department.

Suddenly Mr Havisham appeared out of nowhere.

"Right, let's not waste any time, I need to take your measurements."

He led her through an unmarked door to room at the back of the shop.

"Please follow me."

"Sorry for the delay, I had to double-check with Mr Fairhurst as to what level of service he prescribed for your misdemeanours. He said you were a 'level 5', so we can begin at once."

"Level 5. What does that mean?" she looked puzzled.

"Oh, it is a scale that we use to determine the level of punishment to be administered."

"What is level 5, is it good or bad?" she asked.

"Well.......it's not good for you.... but it's great for me!" he smiled knowingly.

"So, let me begin by taking some of your measurements young lady," he said. "Kindly remove your jacket."

Steph slipped it off and hung it on a peg. There were mirrors on all the walls of the changing room, so Steph could see all sides of herself. She could also see the old man staring at her and shaking his head.

"I thought I gave you specific instructions to not wear a bra for the fitting!" he exclaimed.

"Yes but....." she tried to apologise. He cut her short.

"No if's or but's. You obviously cannot follow basic instructions. I can see why John sent you to see me! Take your bra off now!"

Steph knew she had messed up again, so turned her back to Mr Havisham and started to unbutton her blouse. She took her time, waiting for him to leave the changing room, but he didn't move. She nervously looked over her shoulder at him.

"Hurry up, I'm waiting!" he pointed a bony finger to his watch.

Steph realised that he wasn't going anywhere, so allowed her white blouse to fall down her arms and off. She was standing in the changing room of a locked shop, stripped down to her bra.... in front of a total stranger.

"Allow me," the old man chipped in. "I am a professional!" he reached out and started to unhook her bra clasp.

"Whoa..!" she exclaimed.

"Please allow me to do it," he said in a tired, fed-up tone.

Before she knew it, her bra went loose so Steph hugged the cups tightly to her chest as the old man lowered the straps off her shoulders.

"Look, I need to measure your bust, so you might as well drop the false modesty now, young lady!"

Reluctantly she loosened her grip and he pulled her bra down her arms, dropping it on the bench. By now Steph was feeling nervous and uneasy with the situation. She had to remind herself that she was doing this to save her precious job!

Mr Havisham slapped her hands away from her breasts and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her tits were beautiful, firm and round, with quite large nipples that were already swollen and standing to attention. He commanded her to turn and face him.

"The reason I need to see your breasts is that Mr Fairhurst has sent instructions that you are not to wear a bra with your school uniform. I will have to find an appropriate shirt for you."

Without asking, he reached out and lifted the underside of her tits with his hands.

"It looks like they can support themselves," he smiled as he fondled them.

Steph squirmed with the touch of his cold clammy fingers on her tits. It sent shivers down her spine. It was so gross! Why didn't she scream out? But then his thumbs rubbed across her nipples. Strangely they were already half-erect. Why was she beginning to enjoy the tingling sensation? She began to breathe heavily and her eyes almost closed as she stood there and let him play with her tits.

"Would you like your nipples to poke through your shirt?" He asked casually as he rolled them in his thumbs and forefingers. Steph moaned before answering,

"Mmmmmmm. Whatever you think is best!"

"I think you have lovely nipples," he pinched them softly, "for a young girl like yourself, I think they will look better poking through."

Steph didn't care much about what he was saying. To her shock and horror, the old man's expert touch was getting her aroused. Her dark red nipples were now embarrassingly hard from his stimulation.