Chapter 5

Interlude

“Are you sure it’s him?” he asked.

“One hundred percent,” the minion said. “We took a sample of his DNA and compared it to the sample in our files. He’s the grandson of the Old Man.”

There was no way for the Old Man not to know this. “Damned old wreck,” he thought. “So that’s why Samuel Johnson was transferred out of St. Mary’s. Now that the Old Man has his blood child to groom into the position, Sam is not needed anymore.”

This development had thrown a wrench on his plans. Without the weak, manipulable Samuel gone, all his machinations had become meaningless. He would need to start from zero, unless...”

“That will be all,” he said. “My secretary will give you a check for your trouble.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hughes.”

Michael Hughes was a first cousin of Robert Hughes, the owner and master of St. Mary’s.

A sly grin curled at the corner of Michael’s lips as he pondered his cousin, Robert. “Robert is a fool,” he thought, shaking his head in disbelief. “He has all this power at his fingertips, yet refuses to use it.” The possibilities were infinite - a whole school dedicated to creating skilled and seductive vixens who could be molded into powerful instruments. This world was dominated by men, but deep down they were at the mercy of women. And Michael wanted nothing more than to dominate those women. But alas, his idiotic and idealistic cousin held onto his morals, refusing to yield the power that could be theirs for the taking.

But Michael had no such qualms. He may have been a minor trustee in their family business, but he saw beyond that title. With this power, he could finally rise above others and claim what was rightfully his. It was a shame that Samuel, whom many believed would inherit it all, had been pushed aside by the arrival of Peter Robinson. For now, Michael would bide his time and play along with Robert’s foolish notions. But one day, he would make sure he got what was coming to him.

Manipulated Hearts

Peter was sitting in front of the class, explaining the tenets of Game theory and its importance in economics. Of course, nobody expected those girls would leave the school to become experts, but to grasp basic concepts would help them in their future financial planning.

By his side sat Jessica Gonzales, a stunning brunette with captivating eyes and long, slender legs. Those legs were currently resting on Peter’s lap as he brazenly caressed them in full view of the class. Miss Gonzales, being of Latino heritage, had a bit more hair on her body than some of her classmates, and she was self-conscious about it. But Peter’s gentle touches were meant to reassure her that she was just as desirable with her natural hair as she would be with shaved legs. As he gestured to the board with one hand, his other hand roamed her legs from her groin down to her heels. Her eyes were closed in bliss, savoring the sensation of a masculine hand on her body. This was vastly different from the touching she had experienced from Mr. Ochoa in the past. While he was a good teacher and knew how to push her buttons, he lacked the finesse and sensitivity that Mr. Robinson possessed and was already becoming known for among the students.

“Now then, ladies,” Peter continued after briefly interrupting himself for a caress or two, “in constant-sum games, players have completely opposing interests. However, in variable-sum games, they may all come out as winners or losers depending on their strategies. Are there any questions?”

There were no raised hands in response.

“Very well,” Peter said smoothly as he pressed a button on his tablet. “You will now find several examples on your tablets. Your task is to classify them and provide a brief explanation for each one within the next fifteen minutes.””

A collective moan echoed through the classroom as Peter’s twisted smile spread across his face. While the other girls began their assigned tasks, Miss Gonzales hesitantly looked at him.

“Should I go to my desk, Mr. Robinson?” she asked, her voice quivering.

“No, Jessie. Not yet,” Peter replied, his dark gaze fixed on her legs. “I want to play with them a bit more. May I?”

Miss Gonzales’ once shy smile was now filled with eagerness. “Of course, Mr. Robinson!” she exclaimed.

Peter wasted no time and immediately began caressing one of her feet, his touch sending shivers up her spine. After a minute, he took her foot to his lips and gazed around the classroom, noticing Patricia Stone watching him with an enigmatic smirk. Returning the smile, Peter continued to lick and suck on Miss Gonzales’ delicate toes.

The young woman’s body trembled with pleasure as she let out uncontrollable gasps and moans. “What are you ... oh God, it feels amazing!” she exclaimed.

Peter ignored her plea and kept at it, switching between her feet until she was practically panting with need.

“Please, Mr. Robinson ... I need it!” Miss Gonzales begged, unable to resist any longer.

Grinning, Peter nodded and watched as Jessica quickly sat in front of him, skillfully undoing his fly and releasing his throbbing member. Without hesitation, she eagerly sucked on it for a moment before standing up and positioning herself over her teacher’s lap. With a feral growl of satisfaction, she impaled herself on his cock causing an audible gasp to escape from both of their lips. The other girls in the room tried to focus on their work but were inevitably distracted by the intense and sensual scene unfolding in front of them.

“You and Mr. Ochoa couldn’t be more different,” Angela commented as they sat in the bustling cafeteria, surrounded by the chatter and clattering of silverware on plates. Peter took a bite of his sandwich and waited for her to continue.

How so?” he asked, genuinely curious about her perspective.

“He’s more inclined towards group settings, teaching several girls at once. But you, on the other hand, prefer a closer, more personal approach, focusing on one or two students at a time.”

Peter nodded, understanding. “Each girl is unique and has different needs. I try to cater to them individually.”

“I know, and I think the girls appreciate it,” Angela said with a smile.

“I hope so. By the way, according to the roster there should be three male teachers, but right now there’s only Ochoa and I. Where’s the third teacher?”

Angela looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Samuel had to suddenly step down from his position as our third teacher. We haven’t been able to find a replacement yet,” she explained.

“Did he do something wrong?” Peter inquired, picking up on Angela’s unease.

“No, not that I’m aware of,” she replied hesitantly. “He left the day before you arrived. I heard he was offered a great opportunity at a male boarding school in Australia.”

The pieces clicked together in Peter’s mind. “Just like Mark Dickinson was given a cushy job in Spain?”

Angela’s expression turned serious. “I don’t believe so. If that were the case, I would have heard about it.”

Peter couldn’t help but wonder if there was a pattern emerging with problematic teachers being offered desirable positions elsewhere. But for now, he pushed the thought aside and focused on enjoying his lunch with Angela.

Peter’s heart raced as he was summoned to Mrs. Duran’s office several days later. As he entered, he was taken aback by the presence of Angela and Mr. Ochoa, their expressions etched with concern.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Robinson,” Mrs. Duran gestured towards a vacant chair. “We have some important matters to discuss.”

Peter followed his colleagues’ lead and remained silent, waiting for Mrs. Duran to continue.

“I’ve called you here in regards to Melissa Page’s incident,” she began. “Miss Dickinson, please report your findings.”

Angela cleared her throat and retrieved a file from her portfolio before starting to read aloud.

“Melissa Page shows clear signs of psychological manipulation,” she announced gravely. “Based on our early conversations, it appears that her sponsor has been carefully grooming her for at least six months in order to pass our screening process. This is deeply concerning because it not only means that she was trained to deceive our psychological tests, but also that her sponsor had prior knowledge of what questions would be asked.”

Mrs. Duran was visibly shocked by this revelation.

“Are you certain of this?” she asked incredulously.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Angela confirmed grimly. “During our interviews, Melissa was able to recite specific questions and answers from our tests almost verbatim. It’s evident that there are copies of all our tests out there in the wrong hands.”

“But then how did she fail during her induction?” Mr. Ochoa interjected.

“It seems ironic, but it actually has to do with her love for poetry,” Angela explained further. “Her romantic writings served as a sort of shield against the deeper layers of her indoctrination. When it came time for her to put all her training into practice, her subconscious mind rebelled and manifested signs of discomfort, which thankfully were picked up by Mr. Robinson.”

All eyes turned to Peter, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“She even pleaded with me to continue,” he added. “But I could tell her heart wasn’t truly in it.”

“We are fortunate to have such perceptive instructors like Mr. Robinson here at St. Mary’s,” Mrs. Duran praised him. “You have a talent for reading the true intentions of our students.”

“What will become of Miss Page?” Mr. Ochoa inquired. “If her entry test results are now deemed unreliable, she may not be suitable for St. Mary’s after all.”

“I have not decided yet,” Mrs. Duran said. “For now, she’s attending only female-teacher classes, that’s why neither you or Mr. Robinson have seen her in class. And her uncle has been informed that she’s adapting well to her new environment, that’s all. But let me be very clear about this. As I told Mr. Robinson before, Miss Page is now a St. Mary’s student and, as such, we will protect her, even from her own family.”

“The other question is: Why?” Angela intervened. “Why would anybody want to have a spy in our school?”

“A spy?” Mr. Ochoa asked, shaken.

“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “She told me that her uncle had ordered her to report about how things were done here.”

“A vague command,” Angela said, “but a command nevertheless. I assume he would wait until she was already immersed in our school life before starting to ask more pointed questions.”

“I’ve ordered an investigation on Mr. John Page, Melissa’s uncle. I am still waiting for the results.”

“As I understand, to know about this school, even less to become a student in it, a referral is needed. A contact with impeccable credentials.”

“And you’re right, and that’s the most disturbing piece of information. His referral was our former teacher, Samuel Johnson.”

“Have you contacted him?”

“No. I won’t contact him until we have a lot more information. If he’s a mole, we don’t want to alert him.”

Peter could feel the fire of arousal coursing through his veins as he lay next to Shannon Hannah, her body pressed against his. Without hesitation, he began to trail his tongue along her sleek skin, starting at her neck and down her chest until he reached her armpit. She had taken great care to keep it clean for him, and he reveled in the intoxicating scent and taste of her flesh.

Her breath hitched as she let out a gasping moan, “Oh, Mr. Robinson! I love this, I love when you make love to my armpits!”

“Glad to be of service,” he answered, his voice laced with desire as he continued to lick and kiss every inch of her underarm. He knew from her dossier about her maschalagnia - an armpit fetish - and he made sure to indulge in it fully. Just like Miss Stone’s foot fetish, this was one of the many desires and yearnings of his students that he willingly explored, expanding his own horizons and forging a bond far more intimate than any missionary position could offer.

But as their passion intensified, Shannon directed his head towards her nipples, starting with the right one. And with his mouth still filled with the taste of her sweat and skin, he eagerly complied until she grabbed his member and directed it to her wet opening.

As Mr. Robinson entered her, she couldn’t help but let out a surprised gasp. His movements were swift and confident, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. It was different from Mr. Ochoa’s penetration- not as long, but much thicker, filling her in a way that made her head spin with euphoria. Their bodies moved together in a frantic rhythm, building towards an intense climax. She could feel herself getting closer and closer, until finally her orgasm swept over her like a tidal wave and she released a primal cry of pure ecstasy.

This was one of the many teachings at St. Mary’s: during sex, if you feel the urge to cry, shout, curse, or wail - do it. Give in to your primal desires and let them take over. This rule applied to both teachers and students alike, creating an environment of uninhibited passion and pleasure during sleepovers.

As the night wore on, Peter’s mind raced with restlessness. He cast his gaze upon Miss Paget’s nude form lying next to him, admiring the way the moonlight filtered through the window and danced across her soft, smooth skin. With a gentle touch, he traced his fingers over her breast, eliciting a soft sigh from the sleeping girl. But despite her presence, his thoughts were consumed by Melissa Page. Something was stirring, something unknown and unsettling. And he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that crept over him.