Crazy Sex Adventures(Erotica)

The next few weeks went fine. The girls were pleasant and open to learn, the duties of a House Master were few and I was enjoying the work.

The girls were definitely cut from the same cloth. Born into reasonable money, they were expected to be well educated and sophisticated so that they could snag the best husbands. Work and career were lower on their list of aspirations compared to fashion, travel and money.

They were all immaculately groomed with gorgeous long hair and small chins and noses. Where there mothers might have been secretaries (to the boss) or p. a.’s or maybe Air Stewardesses (marrying the pilot) their daughters were sent to Benlow to get the education they needed so that University might be an option but was unlikely to be the outcome. The girls spent 6 months in Daddy’s business before travelling to Switzerland or the French alps to work in chalets.

The girls knew more about hem-lines and the right sort of shoe to wear than about trigonometry.

My next ‘run-in’ with Miss Archer came in my fourth week. I heard shouting one night and went out into the hall to see Phillipa slam down the payphone and then smash the handset against the wall. I was aghast, Phillipa was one of the most quiet characters around. She turned to see me and then froze. Her eyes immediately fell to the floor and her shoulders slumped. I ordered her into my room and asked her to explain what had happened. She’d had a bust-up with her boyfriend and she’d ‘phoned to confront him with something or other and then gotten angry. All the time she was apologising and offering to make good on the repair to the wall. It occurred to me that money was not a problem for these girls and so I decided on the extra punishment of writing an essay on ‘The Control of Anger’. She grumpily accepted this and left.

The next day I was called in to see Miss Archer who was fully briefed on all of the details of the night before. Apparently a cleaner had found some mess (even though I’d told Phillipa to clear it up) reported it and Miss Archer had made her own inquiries. I put it to her that she could have asked me but she dismissed this with a flick of the hand and said she’d tried to get hold of me but I was in a class or unavailable. I said nothing but her tone softened a little and she said “Mr. Kelaway, Benlow is a school of tradition. Discipline is one of our most treasured traditions. The girls are sent here to learn respect. They are sent here by their parents and in most cases their mothers were pupils here also and as such they must value our traditions and our methods”.

At this point her voice hardened a little, “But discipline is not something we take lightly. It must be enforced, rigidly at all times”. I started to reply but she carried on, “What you did last night, whilst good intentioned, has not taught Phillipa anything. She must be disciplined strongly so that there is never a reoccurrence of such behaviour”. I could tell any argument would be futile and doing a quick bit of mental math it became obvious that I needed this job more than an argument so I just agreed with her. I accepted her views and excused myself.

Walking back to the house that afternoon I saw Phillipa and quickened my pace to walk alongside of her. She didn’t say a word when I asked if she was O. K. She didn’t say anything in fact, just ‘ummed’ and nodded as I spoke. We parted at the house. About an hour later there was a knock on my door and I called out for the person to enter and in walked Simone.

I liked Simone a lot, she was bright and good fun but she knew when to cut the crap and get down to the work. Simone had the loveliest long dark brown hair. It almost shone in spite of its’ dark colour and it moved and fell around her shoulders effortlessly.

She stood in-spite of my offer of a seat and looked directly at me. She accused me of getting Phillipa into trouble with Miss Archer and what had happened was my fault. She was clearly agitated and wasn’t thinking clearly. I asked her to expand on what she was saying but she was too worked up. Finally, she took a seat opposite me and calmed down. It turned out that as soon as I had left miss Archer’s study, Phillipa was called in. She’d been told that Miss Archer and I had agreed that more discipline was need and Miss Archer had administered 6 strokes of the cane.

I was dumb-struck. I’d heard that British schools still used corporal punishment but I’d never come across it personally. I assured Simone that this was none of my doing and I was annoyed that this had happened, but Simone looked directly at me and said “If you’d been firmer with Pippa originally, then this wouldn’t have happened”. I was silenced, she carried on “We all get spanked and caned at Benlow, I’ve had it twice this year already – we’re used to it” she paused “But no- one wants it from Archer” and her words trailed off and she looked away. I thought I saw her wince.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

After I’d thanked Simone for her explanation, it must have taken guts on her part, I thought about what she’d said. The girls were looking to me to keep things ‘In House’ as it were. But spanking and caning girls wasn’t my thing, it wasn’t a teaching ‘tool’ I’d ever used. And where to spank them? On the hand, legs, behind even? I thought about it some more that evening but finally turned in and had a rather strange and slightly erotic dream about some faceless girls all bending before me and lifting their skirts.

These were dreams I tried NOT to have! They can be dangerous when you’re a male teacher! Particularly when I’d got a thing for uniforms! I woke myself and got out of bed. I took my case from under the bed and found what I was looking for. A magazine with the subtle title of ‘Boobs, Skirts & High Heels’. Basically a skin mag of buxom women spilling out of tight blouses, or women in an office environment reclining over desks and showing their legs. I flicked through and couldn’t resist tossing off. I’d found that this released some frustrations and kept my mind away from the obvious distractions a school can offer.