How to Train Your Daughter Ch. 06

With the ring of a bell, twenty high school students had begun filing into the classroom and taking their desks, and as he watched them from in front of the blackboard, smiling and nodding and greeting them as they passed, Ryan Desilva concealed his nervousness as he consulted his notes and curriculum again.

In his early thirties, tall and lean, with a thick shock of dark hair and kind eyes behind a well-chosen pair of glasses, he could be described as Clark Kent-ish. He and his wife and two girls had moved from Texas a few months ago, where he had been a middle school science teacher, and he'd quickly gotten a job at the high school as a substitute while he searched for more permanent employment.

The transition had been great for the whole family, though substitute teaching had its downsides—Ryan usually only had a short notice to get a feel for what he would be teaching on any given day, and he was highly detail-oriented and committed to doing quality work in serving his students and the school administration. But he was adept at thinking on his feet, and he enjoyed working with the students, so altogether it was a positive situation.

He'd gotten the call last night to step in and teach today's social studies class for John Marshall, who had become suddenly ill and was in bed. And Ryan had to admit he was looking forward to the class.

As the last students found their seats, Ryan stepped forward and with a smile introduced himself as Mr. Desilva and explained the situation.

'Now as I understand things, this semester has been about social institutions. In the first part of the semester you studied the legislative process, and I believe you concluded that portion with a mock legislature to learn and practice parliamentary procedure, correct?'

The students nodded and agreed, and a clean-cut young man raised his hand and eagerly reminded everyone that he had played the role of speaker of the house, which received a combination of cheers and boos, presumably in proportion to the students who had formed either side of the aisle when parliament was in session.

Ryan chuckled, 'Then you spent a couple weeks studying the justice process, right? And then you did a mock trial?'

Again the students nodded.

'Excellent,' Ryan continued, 'so for the last two weeks you have been studying the Festival, and how it impacts various parts of society, yes? So today it looks like we will be doing a mock Festival Pageant!'

This time there was a chorus of cheers and groans. The boys were understandably excited about this idea, while most of the girls were slightly less enthusiastic. Ryan paid little attention, however; whether it was math, english, social studies, or any other subject, students naturally found some subjects more or less interesting or fun—but in the end his job was to simply teach them all.

He raised his hand to quiet the class, and, consulting his class packet, began to organize the project.

'We're going to have three boys take the roles of the judges—do I have any volunteers?'

Immediately eight hands went up as every boy offered his services to the learning opportunity. Ryan chuckled to himself and chose three at random, and beckoned them to the front of the room, where he handed them Festival scoring sheets which were clearly marked 'Replica—For Training Purposes Only'.

After learning that their names were Andrew, Samuel, and Max, Ryan turned to the class and asked if anyone remembered how the judges were selected for the Festival.

'They are the three oldest men in a district still able to have sex with a girl,' a young lady in the front row answered.

Ryan nodded.

'Correct. It is a position that is earned each year in the selection process, and it's a position of honor and respect. They have had the most experience with the female body, and are considered best able make determinations concerning the desirability of any given girl.'

Another young woman raised her hand.

'Mr. Desilva, how are they actually selected?'

'Great question,' Ryan replied, 'I'm actually new in town, and I know customs can vary, but back where I'm from in Texas they held an application event where anyone who wanted to be a judge could try out at the courthouse. Three girls who were serving light jail time would be brought in, and in exchange for assisting in the selection process they could have their sentences reversed.

'Then each applicant had fifteen minutes to demonstrate that he could successfully have sex with his choice of the three girls. The three oldest qualifying applicants became the judges each year.'

This explanation was met by several exclamations of 'ew!' and 'gross!', which Ryan played off by recommending that none of the girls in class do anything that might make them go to jail.

He continued, reading from his syllabus.

'So the goal of today is to complete this model Festival exactly as it is written here, and that is meant to accomplish two things: 1) help the young men in the class begin to develop a better understanding of how the young female body is evaluated in the Festival, and how they can use these same concepts to increase their appreciation of the female body in their own practical applications, and 2) help the young women in the class understand more clearly how they will be evaluated in their own Festival, and how they can apply that understanding in their own personal experience.

'So next we need three girls to volunteer as the Festival participants-anyone?'

This time only one hand went up, toward the back of the room. Ryan smiled at the owner, a tiny little thing with dark hair and full lips and an obvious energy one might call 'attitude', and asked her name as he beckoned her up.

'My name is Amia, Mr. Desilva' she answered, bouncing to the front of the room with a giant grin and sparkling eyes.

'Well thank you for volunteering, Miss Amia,' Ryan said, shaking her hand and leading her to stand in front of his desk. She was obviously not shy, and stood with her hands on her hips, gently wagging her backside as she waited for further instructions.

Ryan turned back to the class.

'Let me ask this—has anyone here already celebrated their Festival? I know most of you are a couple years too young to have, I believe.'

Two hands were raised this time, and Ryan smiled and told the owner of the first to put it back down.

'Shannon is my daughter, class. We're from Texas, and she has already been through this process—and she came in fifth! Thank you sweetheart, but I think you can stay in your seat today.

Ryan then turned to the beautiful brunette with green eyes who had slowly raised her hand, and asked her name and why she was in this class.

As she stood up to answer, Ryan saw she was wearing neither a bra beneath her sheer white school blouse, which was still only buttoned to just below her substantial breasts, nor was she wearing a skirt-she stood beside her desk wearing only her sheer white regulation panties, and her heels.

'My name is Jordanna,' she said softly, 'and I have had to repeat two years of school. I had my Festival last year, but I have a hard time with school stuff sometimes. Especially math.'

Ryan heard some embarrassment in her voice, but was pretty sure it had more to do with her academic insecurities than the fact that she was practically naked. He probed a little deeper.

'Miss Jordanna, based on your state of dress am I right in guessing that you have discipline problems as well?'

Jordanna nodded, frustration welling in her voice. 'Yes, Mr. Desilva. But it's not my fault-I just forgot to do my laundry yesterday, and I only had a black bra, and a black skirt! Mr. Dennison stopped me in the hallway on the way here, and he said since it's my second time this week not complying with the uniform code, he needed to confiscate them. I really try, Mr. Desilva-I really really do!'

Ryan felt badly for her, and decided not to risk making her feel more uncomfortable in front of the class. He smiled kindly.

'Miss Jordanna, I'm sorry to hear all of that. You may be seated, but please stay after class so we can discuss some ideas I have for you.'

Jordanna sighed in relief, and took her seat, and Ryan returned to his task of finding two more participants.

Scanning the classroom, his eye was caught by what appeared to be a pair of identical twins sitting next to each other and giggling-two delicious blondes, with strong, curvy frames, impressive breasts, and broad, nordic features. Approaching them, he learned their names were Serena and Selena.

'What are you laughing about, young ladies?' he asked

Serena, who appeared to be the more mischievous of the two, fought off her sister's attempts to prevent her from answering.

'Selena just said...she thinks you're...kind of cute, Mr. Desilva,' she laughed, much to Selena's horror and embarrassment. Selena flushed bright pink, and covered her face in her hands.

In spite of being both amused and flattered, Ryan frowned in his most teacher-ish way, and reminded the girls that not only was talking in class not allowed, but the subject matter was certainly not appropriate either.

'Miss Selena, I think that since you are having a difficult time sitting still and behaving yourself here, you should come with me and help the class in learning this important subject,' he said, taking her hand and leading her to the front of the classroom to stand by Amia. Selena was definitely the shyer of the twins, and her mortification at being selected for such a role caused her to flush an even deeper shade of pink. Nevertheless, she was cooperative and strove to be a good student, so she didn't protest as she took her place.

Finally Ryan looked out over the room again, and chose an adorable redhead with a soft smile and big glasses named Elizabeth, and motioned for her to join the other two girls with him at the front.

'Alright, class,' he said, consulting his notes once again, 'now I'm going to draw a scoring chart on the blackboard, and while I do that, young ladies you can please remove your blouses and skirts. Since this is just for educational purposes, and none of you have celebrated your Festival yet, you may leave on your bra and panties.'

He began drawing a simple graph with boxes for each of the girls' names above several empty boxes he would fill in with various scores. The girls looked at each other with a little dread, and began undressing. Amia was the exception, however-it was evident she enjoyed showing off her body, and she gleefully stripped to her undies and struck a little pose when she was finished.

It was a beautiful sight, and Ryan took a moment to enjoy it along with the young men in the class-three lovely females in the most minimal of coverings, lined up at the front of the class as three of the most interesting teaching tools ever devised.

Allowing them to retain their underthings sounded more generous than it was in practice, as the school uniform regulations, while carefully considered, were not written for the sake of modesty.

All three of the girls wore the prescribed white open-cup shelf bras, which provided some support while ensuring that their nipples remained in direct contact with their blouse during the school day. Normally the constant gentle rubbing of the fabric, along with the air flow, kept them erect and visible through the light cotton; now, however, their nipples were simply exposed completely, perched above the edge of the bra along with their entire areola.

It was difficult to tear one's eyes away from the six delightful little buttons of flesh that were so elegantly and frankly offered, but down below the view was nearly as good-sheer white panties were the rule, and the requirement was that 'some detail' of what lay beneath should be visible. In this department, too, all three girls were compliant, and the eyes of the class flicked enthusiastically from one barely obscured cunny to the next.

Ryan returned to the class packet and retrieved three numbered armbands, which he handed to each of the girls.

'These are just like the armbands worn by the contestants in a real Festival, class-Amia, you'll be number one, Selena, you're two, and Elizabeth, you can be three, ok?'

Elizabeth pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled shyly at Ryan as she took her armband. She was studious and smart, and she wanted to be a physicist one day. Being practically naked in front of her classmates wasn't the way she had wanted to spend the morning, but she knew that certain laws governed the entire universe, and she took comfort in the fact that she could learn to follow those laws to get what she wanted. Right now, those laws said she would volunteer to help her classmates—and herself-better learn to navigate the complex system of social mores that they had been born into. She was ready to perform that duty to the best of her ability.

'Class, you'll see on the chalkboard I've also listed 1, 2, and 3, with boxes we'll use for scoring, and the gentlemen playing the judges should also have sections for each contestant on their scoring sheets.'

Ryan walked to the chalkboard and indicated the chart he'd created.

'Samuel, will you please read each of the categories on your sheet there?'

Samuel stepped forward, and in a clear voice began reading:

Face:

Symmetry

Eyes

Nose

Teeth

Lips

Cheekbones/Jawline

Hair

Body:

Symmetry

Proportion

Body Fat/Composition

Belly

Shoulders

Arms

Legs

Feet

Breasts:

Symmetry

Proportion

Firmness

Shape

Areolas

Nipples

Buttocks:

Firmness

Shape

Proportion

Genitals:

Front View (legs closed, general score)

Rear View (legs parted, general score)

Direct View (legs spread)

Symmetry

Proportion

Inner Labia Shape

Clitoris

Hymen (must be intact)

Lubrication

Taste

Ryan was startled as Samuel read the last section, and went to take a look at the boys' scoring sheets. The syllabus had indicated that because this was a class which had not yet celebrated its Festival, the girls playing the contestants would remain in their underthings and the evaluations would be simplified-but sure enough, the scoring sheets provided in the course packet were exact replicas of official scoring sheets, and included detailed genital scoring.

He shook his head and pursed his lips. This was extremely annoying-nothing was worse than inconsistency, and it was frustrating that somehow the course writers had missed this contradiction. All Ryan wanted to do was make sure he taught his students well, and it made things so much more difficult when the course was giving conflicting directions. He had to make a decision.

'Alright class, so like I said earlier, the purpose of this exercise is to give you the best understanding of how the real Festival works and for you to discover what you can all learn from that—so I think in the interests of thoroughness, girls, I'm going to ask you to take off your bras and panties as well please. I know you have not celebrated your Festival yet, but this is purely an academic exercise being performed for the benefit of a group of peers, so everything we do will fall under the 'Acceptable' category in the Treatment and Handling of Pre-Festival Females regulations.'

The reactions of the three girls were amusing in their variety.

Elizabeth pushed her glasses resolutely up her nose, gave a nod, and with a dutiful 'yes, sir', calmly removed her remaining clothing in a business-like fashion. She placed her panties on her other clothing, and returned to standing stock-still, hands at her sides, like a mannequin. She knew that as a future scientist her mission was to always contribute to furthering the cause of knowledge, and she was being called upon to submit her body for the purposes of science and education. She was proud to offer it in whatever way would be most beneficial to advancing that cause.

Selena blushed again; the thought of exposing herself completely to the substitute teacher whom she had been betrayed for thinking attractive was simply horrifying-but she had no recourse, and she slowly, reluctantly undressed. She turned away from the class (and Ryan) as she pulled her panties down her impressive butt, obviously uncomfortable with letting everyone see her, and as she returned to her place, Ryan had to reprimand her gently to remove her hands from in front of her cunny and from covering her breasts. With pleading in her eyes, she complied, slowly bringing her hands to her sides as she knew was expected, and letting Ryan and her male classmates appreciate everything she had to offer.

Ryan's cock leapt to life as she did; she was a spectacular young woman with a full, athletic figure. Her vulva was thick and juicy looking, with a fine sprinkle of blond hair that shimmered in the sunlight coming through the classroom window. A deep, dark crevasse in the middle of her mound hinted at untold richness inside.

Amia had no such qualms about sharing her body, for her part. She locked her sparkling eyes with Andrew, a well-built, athletic boy with a nice smile, and pulled her panties down first-then stood there, bottomless, with her legs apart, so he and the rest of the class could enjoy viewing her pussy while she slowly removed her bra. When she finished, she returned with a naughty smile to her hands-on-hips pose, making sure everyone could see everything.

Ryan tore his eyes from Selena for a moment and returned to instructing the class.

'Ok we are going to move this along a little-we have a lot to cover still! Let's talk about how the evaluation process works.

'Gentlemen, you will evaluate each girl on her own merits, and score her accordingly on a scale of one to ten in each of the categories that Samuel read for us. That means that you aren't ranking the girls-just focus on one girl at a time, and in each category indicate the level of desirability of each element, on its own. You will use your own sense of pleasure, beauty, and desirability to do this-pay close attention to your impulses and physical and emotional responses as you do each evaluation. That intuition will be your main guide.

'All girls are desirable—they are created literally FOR pleasure. The objective of an exercise like this, and the Festival itself, isn't to point out things you don't find attractive—rather, we want to develop a thoughtful, fine-tuned appreciation for all the various aspects of every girl.

'Part of being a well-developed man is being able to derive pleasure from many varieties of the infinite possible iterations of the female body. Just take a look at your three classmates here-each of them is completely unique, each one a delightful and lovely interpretation of what a young girl can look like, from their faces, to their bodies, to their girl parts. And in this exercise we're going to take a deeper look at what makes each one especially alluring to each of you.

'At the end of the evaluation process your scores will be averaged both within the categories, then as an aggregate, which will determine the overall most desirable girl and the ranking from there down.

'Let's go ahead and begin with girl number three, Elizabeth-can you step forward please?'

Ryan took her firmly by the arm and led her a couple steps in front of the desk so all the students had a clear field of view.

'Gentlemen, much of the evaluation is visual in nature, and you can begin to fill those boxes in now. She has a very cute face and quite a nice little button nose, would you guys agree?'

He gave Elizabeth a little twirl, so the judges and the rest of the class could get an appreciation of her backside.

'Judges, do you have any comments about her butt?'

The three boys were obviously highly turned-on by the wealth of femininity displayed in front of them, and they seemed a little tongue-tied. Ryan saw some instruction was needed.