Andi and the Unruly Class Ch. 01

"Miss Kay, I'd like you to repeat your instructions for tomorrow." No raised hand. No 'please Miss,' just his bald statement. His requirement.

I didn't even try to resist or demand a more respectful tone, but obediently stated, "Mid-thigh skirt, hold up stockings, sweater or t shirt type top with no other top under, and nothing over during your class."

Of course, I was well aware that he hadn't insisted on the hold up stockings or the specified skirt for tomorrow, but I wanted to do it for my own sake as if it was a requirement. My tummy was again doing all sorts of funny but kind of nice things, and my fingers were fidgeting with my skirt at the sides of my legs. I needed to know if he was going to ask me to prove it again. I wanted him to ask. My fingers became more obvious in their unspoken request.

"Was there something else, Miss Kay?" he asked nonchalantly, clearly teasing me.

I knew he wanted me to ask, to beg. So I did. I was enjoying this game too much now and was hooked.

"You can see that I complied with the instruction to wear a mid thigh skirt .." Instruction?? I shouted silently to myself. Did I really mean to tell him how much I wanted this?

"Yes, we can," was his brief reply. He was making me work for it.

"I wore the stockings as well, again as instructed."

"I expected nothing less from such an obedient good girl."

Damn! He wasn't playing along! I sighed, supposing I'd be disappointed, but he was playing me.

"Were you expecting to have to prove it?" he finally asked, with only half a minute to go.

"Well, yes."

"Did you want to prove it?"

"I'm ready to," I answered dodging the real meaning of his question.

"You may ask us for permission to prove that you are wearing stockings."

That threw me a bit, but time was fast running out although the class didn't look like it was going anywhere just now.

Drawing in a breath, savouring the new low to which I was sinking, I asked,

"May I please show you all that I'm wearing hold up stockings today as you wanted."

"You may," Dave answered, grinning.

"Miss is really getting into this!" blurted a pretty slim brunette in the front row, and I frowned at Alicia. "I'm investing in next week!" I replied, trying to excuse my behaviour.

Just like yesterday I bent forward and lifted today's skirt high enough to show them my bare thighs above the stocking tops.

"Very nice, Miss!" "Great legs!" "Awesome, Miss!" were some of the comments, and I became a little giddy with pleasure.

"Higher, Miss Kay, lift the skirt higher," came Dave's voice. I complied until all of my thighs were visible. "And turn round," he added.

I did.

"Lift the skirt to your waist, Miss Kay," he ordered.

Oh, fuck! Could I do that? Show my knickers? They were nice knickers, plain dark blue bikini cut cotton. Of course I did.

"Wow!" "Nice arse!" "Peachy!" They couldn't see the colour rising from my chest to my hairline, or the glow of pleasure I was experiencing.

"Turn round again, Miss Kay."

I could have dropped the skirt back in place before turning, but I didn't, and now I was facing them with my stockings, thighs and knickers on show from my feet to my waist. There were lots of approving looks.

"Tomorrow you will wear a thong." stated Dave.

"Yes," I replied, the squirming of my insides confirming my secret delight.

"Good girl." The bell went, I returned my skirt to its proper state, and they left. On wobbly legs I went to sit behind my desk ignoring their grins and farewell comments.

THURSDAY (First Session)

I didn't eat much when I got home, just nibbled on some crackers and drank too much red wine. It was just a fairly inexpensive Merlot from the supermarket, but I drained the bottle as if it were a cola. In the morning my head protested loudly, hitting me repeatedly behind the eyes, but I got to school on time. All my lessons were already prepared, but first session it was Them, and I was both nervous and excited.

As they filed in I stood in front of the teaching desk, hands clasped behind my back. Feet together, mid-thigh dark green cotton skirt flaring nicely from my hips though figure hugging from there to my waist. The short sleeved pale green knitted cotton v neck top was tucked in and clung to my body, and I was aware that my white bra could be discerned beneath it. I had worn the gold drop earrings again, my hair in a ponytail, and this time I wore a green glass pendant that nestled in the bare v of the top, between my breasts. I felt sexy, and hoped they liked how I looked. I wasn't disappointed with the admiring looks I got.

Dave seemed to ignore me as he came in and took his usual seat.

Damn Him!

I started the lesson and despite a lack of reaction from Dave it was going well. They seemed to have read the notes I'd given them and actually understood them. This was going to work as a partnership.

In the first open forum of the lesson, where I answered their questions on the notes and our text, I made a point of assuring them that it was ok to ask questions that might appear perhaps silly, because there was a good chance that someone else had the same question.

Dave finally put up his hand.

"Yes, Dave?" I asked, a little surprised that he had reverted to such respectful behaviour.

"What you're saying is that we should trust each other, not make fun of another person's ideas, or thoughts or ways of expressing themselves?"

"Well yes, absolutely. If you all remember, its one of those things we discussed in out first lesson together."

"I think its really important, Miss Kay," he continued, "We all need to trust each other to not embarrass anyone else about how they express themselves in this class. My Dad always says that Trust is one of the most valuable commodities, and should be prized. He's a very wise man, my Dad. Someone to be listened to. He says a betrayal of trust undermines relationships, and proves a person unworthy of loyalty. They lose all the protection of friendship!"

That sounded almost like a threat, and looking round the classroom I saw that all the others understood what Dave was saying. I was impressed at how respectfully he spoke of his father, who sounded like quite an interesting man.

Dave added, "What happens in here, stays in here. Agreed?"

He might as well have said 'understood'. Everyone in the class nodded, including me.

"Good. Now, Miss Kay, come here please and continue the lesson." Dave pointed to a spot just to the right of his desk, at the back of the class.

I could have protested that this made no sense since everyone would have to turn round, and not have their notes in front of them, but of course I simply obeyed and walked to where he indicated, turning my back on him to face everyone else, so that he was slightly behind my left shoulder.

Carrying on from where we left off I started going through the points I'd made on page three of the handout. After a minute or so I was getting into my stride and most of the students had their papers in their hands to follow along.

That was when I felt the hand softly caress my left calf, the one nearest Dave. I faltered, turned it into a cough to clear my throat and continued. His hand carried on stroking up and down, now reaching the back of my knee. Looking at the faces in front of me I saw most eyes were indeed on my left lower leg, not my face. They knew what he was doing. Everyone kept a straight face, and I continued talking. I lost track of what I was saying as his hand crossed the threshold of my knee, running up the back of my thigh as far as the hem of my skirt.

I think we were all mesmerised over what he'd do next. Dave surprised me by sliding his right hand, it must have been his right, along the inside of my leg just above my knee, and I could feel his strong fingers delicately pressing into the front of my leg where surely everyone could clearly see. In fact some moved in their seats for a better view.

I knew I'd stopped talking when Dave softly chided, "Keep talking, Miss Kay, there's a good girl."

Obediently I carried on, not saying anything brilliant but waffling on topic. All my attention was on his hand. Which was when it slid smoothly up between my legs until it reached my underwear. Everyone must have known how high he'd gone. The soft flesh of my inner thighs were pressed tightly against the palm and the back of his warm strong hand.

"Move your feet apart, Miss Kay," he ordered, his quiet firm voice carrying to the front of the room, and faltering in my explanation I immediately complied, the whole class watching.

"Recite the quotations we should learn," he continued, and I started on the first, the rest of my being focused like everyone's eyes on the hand pressing up into my groin. Looking down I could see the outline of his motionless hand distorting the front of my skirt.

I stammered my way through the first short quote.

"You may back to your desk, but if you stay here I will go further," Dave said in his assertive way that carried to everyone in the room.

I simply moved my left foot a little further from my right, and started the second quote.

A slight gasp could be heard but I don't know who uttered it.

With more room he shifted his hand to firmly cup me from underneath. His hand was pressing into my pubic mound, then he started moving that hand forward and back, slowly, teasingly, so that every forward movement would push out the front of my skirt. I'd stopped talking again and his hand was becoming even more obvious, rubbing his palm against the soft folds between my legs.

Suddenly he stopped and took his hand away saying, "Go back to your desk."

"Yes, Dave," I replied without thinking, blushing and hurrying to where I should have been. Once there I found the courage to turn an face the class, but they were still looking at Dave. He was holding up his right hand, palm toward them. It was glistening, slickly wet. Yes, I was soaked.

"I think now is the perfect time for you to show us that you obeyed my instructions from yesterday, Miss Kay. You will face us and lift your skirt to your waist."

"Yes, Dave," I replied as they all turned to look at me, wonder and excitement and curiosity on their faces.

I was loving this. Surely Dave understood that? Bending forward I grasped the hem of my skirt in our now usual ritual, and lifted, peeling it up to my waist.

"Feet apart, Miss Kay."

Obeying, I knew that the soaking wet front of my white thong would be visible to everyone, possibly through it even my trimmed dark bush.

"Turn around, show everyone that you're wearing a thong."

I turned, and stayed like that through the indrawn breaths, until I had permission to turn again.

"Face us, and let your skirt back into its proper state," which I did.

"There's one more thing," he added, with a pause for dramatic effect.

"You will not wear a bra tomorrow. At any time. Understood?"

I gaped. I think my mouth literally fell open.

"You can't be serious!" I stammered.

"Do we need a repeat of yesterday's disciplining? It will be more serious each time I have to discipline you for disobedience!"

Through my mind rushed the fear of him asking me tomorrow to prove that I wasn't wearing a bra, but maybe he wouldn't repeat that particular trial.

There was a knock at the door, and then the Deputy Head, Mr Cosgrove came into the classroom.

"Don't mind me, " he said, "I'm just going round a few classes before the Inspectors are in next week, making sure everything is ok," smiling at the class but giving the impression that he was checking up where behaviour might be in doubt. I knew he was following up from when it had looked like I'd kept the class back.

"Everything is fine, Mr Cosgrove," I assured him, "We're just preparing ourselves for next week, so that we can all look good."

I didn't know if I was taunting Dave, challenging him or giving in to him.

Turning to one of the brighter boys in my class, the Deputy Head asked,

"So Brian, tell me a little about the text you're studying."

The slim student with short dark hair sensibly repeated some of what I'd most recently covered from the notes, and then Sandra interrupted and corrected him. That lead to Alicia countering with one of the observations we'd made yesterday and soon there was a healthy and informed discussion which actually sounded quite impressive.

"Miss Kay has certainly done a good job getting you to engage with the text! I'll have to make sure that the Inspectors visit this class. There's no reason why they shouldn't, is there?" he asked me, but his question was clearly directed at the class, who he still suspected of playing me up the other day. Although he was short, his stocky frame leant him an authority.

"No reason at all, Mr Cosgrove, " I replied, "as you can see, we engage in discussion and the sharing of views and opinions, but its all well disciplined."

"Ah, that's good to hear. So no, um, no problems with 'not obeying instructions?' That would make me very disappointed," he responded with quiet emphasis.

"Oh no, no problem at all," I assured him, "all instructions are carried out in full, completely," sneaking a glance at Dave who remained impassive as if this had nothing to do with him.

"Excellent! Carry on the good work, all of you," and smiling at the class he left, closing the door behind him.

"You heard the Deputy Head, we are to continue where we left off. In this class where my instructions are carried out in full and completely. Aren't they, Miss Kay?" announced Dave.

I just nodded, and detected a look of glee on many faces.

"Say it. Repeat back to me your instructions for tomorrow."

"I will wear a mid thigh skirt, hold up stockings, t shirt or sweater top but no bra all day."

I knew my face was red and could almost hear my heart thumping, but the excitement and admiration directed toward me was the reward I needed, and knew I'd done the right thing. Yes I was embarrassed, yes humiliated, yes it was totally inappropriate. But I loved it. Dave knew. Somehow he knew. He also knew I was waiting for it ... for him to say it

"Good girl," and I let out a sigh of contentment.

FRIDAY (Last Session)

Soon after arriving at school Mr Cosgrove sought me out in the Staff Room and asked me to join him in his office for a word. Quickly gulping down my coffee I followed him, nervously running through in my mind all the things I might have done wrong, hoping desperately that he hadn't found out about That Class.

Closing his door he gestured to the pair of comfortable seats at one side of his desk, and I perched carefully on the edge of one.

"I was really impressed with the progress you've made with your English senior class. They showed an involvement and enthusiasm I've rarely seen. I very much want the Inspectors to visit, but I'm aware that you might find that a bit daunting, so I thought I'd sit in on your next lesson with them, to give you a sense of what its like having someone observe you in a real lesson."

I was sure that he meant it kindly, but how was I to manage the class's expectations with him in the room?

I replied, "It's OK Mr Cosgrove, I was observed plenty of times during my teaching practice, and once I'd got used to it I wasn't phased by it at all." I so hoped to put him off.

"That's great! Then it won't bother you that I'm there." He smiled, pleased with himself.

"There was one thing I wanted to ask you about," I said, changing the subject. "What do you know of Mr Jordan, you know, Dave Jordan's father? He speaks so highly of his Dad."

"Oh, he rarely if ever comes to school. He's a local businessman, very influential, but not the public works kind of influence. All behind the scenes. He seems to know everyone who matters and they all know him. I believe he owns a string of shops and pubs and a club. Are you worried about David? Did you want to talk to his father about him?"

"No, actually Dave has been really good and very attentive. Its just that at the last Parents Evening no one was there for him, and I just wondered."

"If there's nothing amiss, I shouldn't make any waves if I were you. Oh, and by the way, don't take this the wrong way, but you seem to have softened the way you present yourself in school. It suits you very well, makes you seem more approachable. I hope you're not offended?"

"Offended? No, of course not. Your comments are welcome. Its good to hear the opinion of an experienced man. So yes, I've been trying a different approach to my appearance with some guidance from someone. I think its making it easier for me to build a relationship with my students, but one in which obedience is demanded."

"It seems to be working with your Seniors. Well done and keep it up. I would encourage you to continue to develop your style, and the relationship you have with them."

Feeling slightly giddy I asked, "So I should take it further, in the direction its going. Continuing to work on the obedience, the safe environment in which self expression is encouraged, and the exhibiting of assets and best points?"

"I wouldn't have put it that way myself, but yes. And feel free to express yourself in your clothing. I like the shorter skirts and the jacket off."

I detected a slight uneasiness in him as he said this, perhaps worried that he might have overstepped the mark.

Standing I turned a little to my left and right, looking down at my legs, and asked,

"You don't think the skirt is too short? That I have the legs to carry it off?"

"Definitely not too short, and the legs are great," he replied carefully, as if testing boundaries.

"That's good to know," I grinned at him, innocently I hoped. "So I could get away with an even shorter skirt?"

He laughed, "probably not next week while we're being inspected, but yes, a little shorter. I'd like to see more of your legs," and I knew how big a risk he was taking by saying that.

"I think we can manage that," I replied smiling into his eyes.

Just then the bell sounded.

"Time to get back to it," he announced, standing, and we filed out of his office, me in front, him behind. I hoped he was checking out my bum.

After lunch I had a free session then it was that time again. I was keyed up and almost twitching in anticipation, my excitement only tempered by knowing that at some point Mr Cosgrove was going to walk in.

I realised I'd spent the whole day waiting for this.

My stockings were again the dark lace top hold ups, and today's skirt was a fairly thin yellow cotton, again hugging to my hips then flared. Once again I wore a thong, today a black lace one that probably showed through the thin yellow cotton. With no bra on, I'd compromised and over the white cotton figure hugging v neck t-shirt wore a pale green lambs wool button front sweater, open, so that I could pull it over my breasts when Mr Cosgrove was in the room, and open it either side of them when he wasn't.

Because I didn't know when the Deputy Head would join us, I waited for the class sitting at my teaching desk, sweater open but carefully covering my breasts. As the bell sounded I looked up and very soon the first of my class came in through the door, looking excitedly towards me, and then frowning in what I took to be disappointment at an expectation denied.

Dave came in with the last three and didn't even look at me, but took his usual seat at the back, finally glancing over to me, his face impassive.

I knew that I owed them an explanation.

"Right, well good afternoon class. Today Mr Cosgrove will be joining us again for some or all of our lesson, so I've had to make some changes to accommodate that. Please turn to the last couple of pages of your notes so that we're ready for him."