Author: Connard Wellingham Title: The Girls School Part: Chapter 02 Summary: Adam Hazel finds a new job at an exclusive girl's school where he finds things are not quite as they seem... Keywords: MF, Mf, FF, ff, M+F+f+, F+f+, bdsm, span, oral, cons The Girl's School By: Connard Wellingham Copyright (c) Connard Wellingham 2003 This story contains what is known as 'adult content', ie sex. Why one should be allowed to read about murder, torture, violence and killing but not sex is a mystery to me - but there you go, that's the way it is. So if it is not legal for you to read about sex where you are, or you are deemed too young to read about sex or, you find stories about sex offensive - DO NOT READ THIS STORY. This story is fiction. This story is FANTASY. It is intended solely for your amusement and enjoyment. The author would not like to mislead the more gullible among you that the world really is as depicted here. Whether the world would be a better place if people did behave as they do in the story is a moot point. This story can be freely distributed so long as; a) neither the distributor nor the recipient make any profit from it, b) no words are changed without the author's consent, c) the author is credited with being the author, d) this warning section is included, e) acknowledgment is given to www.asstr.org as being the original source of the text. The author welcomes helpful comments and can be contacted at cwellingham@SoftHome.net. Chapter 2: A New Beginning (nosex) For the first few days after his interview, Adam went about in on automatic pilot. He kept getting flashes of Anne Henderson behind her desk; those hypnotic blue eyes fixed on his and her full breasts shifting sensually beneath her blouse: of hot, teenage breath in his ear: of ivy, covered buildings with panelled corridors: of giggling schoolgirls in sheer black stockings and suspenders: of sly looks from lowered eyes. As the days went by, these visions faded until the interview almost seemed like a dream or had happened to someone else. Nearly three weeks passed and then two things happened which would change his life forever. The first of these was an incident in the classroom. Shortly after his return, class 4b had been rowdier than usual and a scuffle had broken out between two of the boys. One of them had picked up a steel rule and given the other a nasty slash across the face. Both had been excluded as a result of the incident as the head, on evidence from Adam and some of the pupils, had decided that they were equally to blame. But now the parents of the boy whose face had been hurt were threatening to sue the school for negligence and the Governors were talking about an internal investigation. Adam, of course, felt he was under a cloud of suspicion, the more so as he knew he had not been paying full attention that day and partly blamed himself for allowing the situation to develop. The second incident was the restrained green envelope which dropped on his mat one morning. Anne Henderson thanked him for attending the interview and was delighted to offer him the post of 'general science, mathematics and computing teacher' at a salary significantly in excess of his current pay. A further allowance would be forthcoming for 'additional duties to be agreed with the Principal in due course'. Nothing about this had been mentioned at the interview but he presumed that this would be some sort of standard allowance to cover supervision of dormitories, mealtimes, school outings, and so on. After all, somebody had to be on duty at all times at a boarding school. All in all he would be almost doubling his salary and be given more freedom to teach - and all in idyllic rural surroundings. If he had received the letter at any other time, he might have considered the offer more carefully, but, as he had been leaving that afternoon, the Headmaster had summoned him and had made vaguely threatening noises about appearing before the Board of Governors. Adam suspected that he was being thrown to the lions. The Headmaster, while excellent within the school environment, always seemed to be running scared of the Board and Adam had the nasty suspicion that the Head would not back him up in the event of any aggravation. So, that evening, he went out and got drunk and the following day wrote two letters. One to Anne Henderson accepting the post and the other of resignation to the Headmaster. ~~~~~~~ The next month passed in a whirl of activity. Throwing caution to the winds, he decided to sell his flat - and, of course, had to complete all the DIY chores he had been putting off, make arrangements to store his furniture, and so on. Then there was the inevitable round of farewells. He was amused, in a detached sort of a way, about the reactions of his colleagues. The Headmaster, after an initial bout of shouting, refused to acknowledge his existence. The younger, male, teachers openly congratulated him and made comments like "Lucky dog," in envious tones. A number reproached him for throwing his career away; although he reckoned they were secretly jealous. And a few even accused him of cowardice and running away from his responsibilities. However, he was too busy to be affected by their reactions. Even now, the whole situation was taking on a slight air of unreality. At last moving day arrived. As he locked the front door for the last time, he had a moment of doubt and panic. The sullen, grey sky did little to help and he started off in a depressed state of mind. He drove south, carefully nursing his old, overladen car and, as the miles rolled by, the weather began to improve and with it, his spirits. After a long but uneventful journey, he arrived at Greenwood. The evening sun cast a warm, yellow glow over the high stone walls that surrounded the grounds. As he had been too distracted to notice much during his first visit, he stopped to take in the atmosphere. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the tall trees, a pair of wood pigeons cooed at each other and, from a copse on the other side of the road, raucous rooks gathered, flapping in from wherever they had been foraging during the day. It was an idyllic scene and he breathed a deep sigh of contentment. Restarting the car, he drove through the gates, solidly made and in good repair, he noticed, and along the gravelled driveway. The drive twisted and turned through a small wood and then emerged into an expanse of grass, not quite cultivated enough to be called a lawn. At the far side stood the main school building. It was a scene out of time with its ivy-clad walls and deep-set windows. The doorway was a gothic arch approached by a flight of broad stone steps. He could almost see the horse-drawn coach at the front door, with liveried footmen, ushering bewigged gentlemen and elegantly gowned ladies up the steps. At that moment, two girls in the dark green blazers of the school emerged, shrieking, at a run - and the spell was broken. He laughed at himself for having such a flight of fancy and drove round the buildings until he found an area where cars were parked. As he climbed out and stretched muscles stiff from long hours of driving, a man dressed in a brown overall came hurrying over the courtyard towards him. "Oi. Whadda you want?" he demanded. Adam looked at him askance. The man, like his overall, had seen better days. He was obviously the janitor. "I'm Adam Hazel, a new member of staff," he announced. "Oh. Sorry, sir," said the janitor, changing his tone instantly. "But you can't be too careful these days, you know. George Horwood, school janitor. So you're Mr Hazel, are you? Ms Henderson said to watch out for you and to show you to your rooms." "Uh, thank you. It's OK to park here?" The man looked disparagingly at Adam's battered car but said, "No problem at all, sir. You might want to drive round to your place to unload, though. I'll show you where to go." He led Adam round the building and across a lawn edged with flower beds to a building that, at one time had been a barn or stables but was now a small apartment block. Stone stairs with a carpet runner led up and along a narrow corridor. At the far end, he unlocked a door and ushered Adam in like an estate agent with a prospective client. "Here we are, Mr Hazel. Apartment 4." Adam was impressed. The apartment comprised of a living room, 2 bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. The ceilings were low and the rooms were not overly large but it was remarkably well appointed. He wandered around, opening doors and peering into cupboards with George hovering in the background. "Very nice," he said, at last. "Right you are, sir. I'll leave you to get settled in. Here's your keys. Goodnight to you, sir." He almost backed out of the room and Adam wondered, fleetingly, if he should have tipped him. Thirst, hunger and fatigue were fighting for pole position in Adam's consciousness. He decided that, at least, he should bring his car round to a more convenient spot for unloading. As he dumped the first armload unceremoniously on the kitchen table, hunger and thirst became the front runners and he wondered what the eating arrangements were at the school. With a curse at his own stupidity, he opened some cupboards at random. To his surprise they were not empty, as he had expected. Indeed, they were remarkably well stocked with the basics and the fridge held milk, eggs, butter, and so on. With a sigh of relief he went to fill the kettle - and discovered the note. It was from Anne, welcoming him to the school, and stating that she would see him the following morning. Several hours later, having at least unloaded the car, he fell into bed and was asleep immediately. ~~~~~~~ It was late when he arose the next morning. He had barely finished his breakfast and was contemplating, over a second cup of coffee, what his first move should be when Anne appeared on the doorstep. Today she was wearing a loose, beige jumper, black toreador pants and a dark green jacket. Her fine, blonde hair was pulled back and tied with a black band. She looked stunning and he realised, that she was a truly beautiful woman and he was already more than a little infatuated with her. "Good morning, Adam," she said as he stepped aside to let her in. "You've arrived safely." "Good morning, er, Anne," he replied. "Yes, thanks. Very tiring but no mishaps." "You found everything, then?" Yes, indeed. It was most kind of you and completely unexpected." "No problem," she smiled. "I thought I should show you round and introduce you to people." "That would be fine. To tell the truth I was wondering about that very thing." She led him over to the main building and gave him a guided tour. The school had been originally built, as he had suspected, as the country seat of minor nobility. During the First World War it had been used as an army hospital. After a variety of owners, it had been used as a research establishment during World War II, though what kind of research Anne did not know, and abandoned at the end. The legacy, she explained, was a number of ruined buildings in the grounds that were extremely unsafe and out of bounds to all. After two decades of neglect, it had been acquired by a major corporation who had wanted to turn it into a residential training centre. They had refurbished some of the main building and then, for some reason, had abandoned their plans. The School had bought it for a song. Greenwood Academy for Girls - or Young Ladies, as it had originally been known - had been around in one form or another since the early 1900s. It had been set up at the time of the Suffragettes to educate the young ladies of the area and, although never particularly well-known, had managed to survive the various fashions and fluctuations in education. The Board of Governors had been running the school for decades and, for them, education had stopped sometime around 1940. Although they had acquired the property cheaply, they had refused to spend any money on refurbishing it. Years of financial neglect had eventually brought the Health and Safety Inspectors who promptly condemned the whole property - main school, outbuildings, dormitories, the lot. It had seemed that this would spell the end of the school but, at the last minute, a benefactor stepped in in the form of a former pupil, the widow of a wealthy businessman from America who had, somehow, heard of the school's plight. I return for her patronage, however, she demanded changes. The Board were dismissed, as was the Headmistress and a number of teachers. There was a new Board with a Chairman appointed by the benefactor. Educational consultants were employed to revise the curriculum. The present premises were acquired, modernised and adapted. And, finally, Anne was appointed as the new Principal. In her three years she had increased the roll from 20 to 40 and doubled the number of exam passes. Adam was impressed. As Anne had been giving her potted history, she had been showing him round the main buildings. Most of the classrooms were housed in what used to be the out-buildings and stables. It seemed to Adam that the builders had gutted the interior, leaving only the outer walls and then re-built from scratch. A lot of money had been spent, that was for sure. The classrooms were all clean, bright and equipped with all the latest support equipment and gadgetry. The science laboratories were models of what school science labs should be. There was a language laboratory and a computer room. The original manor house had also been completely refurbished. It still had a few classrooms, but mostly housed the girls' dormitories, offices, staffroom, senior common room and Anne's apartment. What was even more impressive was that all this had been done while still retaining the look and feel of a Victorian country house. There was wood panelling everywhere, and deep carpets, high sash windows, discreet lighting. The other feature of the main building was that it was a rabbit warren with corridors seemingly everywhere. Adam's first impression was that there were probably three different routes between any two points in the building. "I'm very impressed," Adam said at one point. "But I find it a bit odd." "Odd?" said Anne, a bit put out. "Well, 'disconcerting' is probably a better word." "Oh? How so?" "It's all very impressive and I only wish I'd had this sort of environment in my previous jobs. But, I'm afraid, just now, it feels a bit like a Wendy house - a school in miniature." "Well, we only have 40 pupils," said Anne, offended. Adam held up his hand to pacify her. "I know. I appreciate that. There would be no point in having classrooms for 30 with only 10 pupils in them. The problem is me, not your school. I'm just so used to large schools with hundreds of pupils and crowded classes that it'll take me some time to get used to the scale of things here." Anne smiled, "Yes, I suppose it will. It must seem very small after your last school." "I'm not complaining, mind. In fact I'm looking forward to the change and the challenge." "And I'm sure you'll rise to it. And now, some coffee." Over coffee in the staff-room, they discussed the curriculum, the school timetable, Adam's teaching duties and other minutæ of schoolteaching. As he watched her, perched on the edge of an armchair with her elegant legs crossed, he could not, yet again, help admiring her looks and poise and confidence. "Well," said Anne as the discussion drew to a close. "You'll have to excuse me but I have some work to do." "Even on a Sunday?" "I'm afraid so. To be honest, Sunday is a good day for paperwork. At least I get some peace to do it." ~~~~~~~ He spent the rest of the day working. Although the girls wouldn't return from the Easter break until the Tuesday, he wanted to be well prepared. And he was acutely aware that he would have to reconsider his whole teaching method and style. Some of his classes only had a handful of students - more like a study group than a formal class. He was deep in reverie when Jacqueline appeared at the door. "There you are," she said. "Are you coming to dinner?" He looked up. "Dinner? Is it that time already?" Jacqueline laughed. "You must have been a busy beaver. If you're not quick, you'll miss it entirely. If you're nearly done, I'll take you over." Hastily, he finished what he was doing and followed her over to the refectory. She was dressed in jeans and a loose jumper. The jeans fitted her snugly and he admired the sway of her hips and the rolling of her bottom. At the entrance to the refectory she turned back to him. "Enjoy the view?" He flushed but decided to brazen it out. "Yes," he said meeting her gaze frankly. "Good." She pushed open the door and led the way inside. The refectory resembled a small restaurant more than a school dining hall. Beechwood tables for 4 or 6 were placed pleasingly throughout the room and divided into groups by troughs of potted plants and low lattice-work screens. Lights were suspended from the ceiling on long poles and designed to throw their light downwards. Although large and high ceilinged, the room was soundproofed enough to give a feeling of pleasant informality and intimacy. They collected trays from a rack and were served with soup, stew with potatoes and green beans, and lemon meringue pie. The food was surprisingly good and Adam tucked in with a will. "That was good," he said with a satisfied sigh as he polished off the last of the lemon meringue pie. "I hadn't realised how hungry I was." Jacqueline smiled. "The food is one of a number of perks here." She went and fetched two cups of coffee. "Thanks. What sort of perks do you mean?" "Oh, you'll find out," she said, enigmatically. "How are you settling in?" "Fine. It's a bit of a culture shock, but I'm looking forward to meeting the girls." Jacqueline laughed. "Yes, indeed. You'll find them a bit different from what you're used to." "How so." "I'll let you find out for yourself." "Why? Are they a problem?" "No, not at all. Nothing like that. Forget I mentioned it. What d'you make of our illustrious leader?" "Ms Henderson ... er ... Anne? She's very ... dynamic." He flushed. "She is. And demanding. And beautiful, wouldn't you say?" "Er.... yes, I suppose she is." "Come on. Be honest. She's a schoolboy's wet dream." He flushed again. "I'm not sure we should be talking about her like this." "Pshaw. She knows it. I know it. You know it. She puts the rest of us to shame." He looked up, startled. "Oh, no. I wouldn't say that. Perhaps 'the first among equals'." "You haven't met us all yet." "True, but if they're all as attractive as you .... " It was Jacqueline's turn to blush and he continued hurriedly. "I haven't seen anybody around, so far. Is everyone still away on holiday?" "Yes. I'm only here as it's my turn to chaperone." "Oh. Do some of the girls stay over the holidays, then." "Sometimes. Some of them have parents who work abroad and don't seem to have enough interest to see them even for a week." She sounded disapproving. "It's not as if they couldn't afford to fly back here, or fly them out." He shook his head, sympathetically. "That's a shame for the girls. It must be difficult enough being at boarding school for a whole term, without having to stay over the holidays too." "Oh, we manage to keep them ... amused, quite successfully." Adam stifled a large yawn. "Oh, I'm sorry. My manners are appalling. I don't know quite why I'm so tired." Jacqueline smiled. "That's OK. I was thinking of heading off myself. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day." They walked back towards the apartments. "What number are you in?" asked Jacqueline. "Number? Oh, Four." "I'm in One. On the ground floor." "Ground floor. Very nice." "It has its advantages." "Are they all the same?" "More or less. Variations on a theme, you might say. I've got French windows, for example." "Handy for clandestine visits. Sneak in and out without anyone seeing," grinned Adam. Jacqueline looked at him sharply. "What made you say that?" From her tone of voice, Adam realised that, for some reason, he had made a gaffe. "Sorry. Poor attempt at a joke." She relaxed slightly. "Yes, I suppose they would be." "Nice in the summer, though," said Adam, attempting to recover the situation. "Yes. I quite like being able to take my coffee outside on warm days," said Jacqueline, as if realising that her reaction might have been excessive. They bid each other 'goodnight' at the main entrance and Adam made his way thoughtfully to his apartment. 'What a strange reaction,' he thought. 'Unless, of course, she really does have clandestine visitors. Perhaps she's got a secret lover who sneaks in in the middle of the night!' He shrugged mental shoulders. 'Whatever. It's her business. Her private life is of no concern to me.' END of Chapter 2