Chapter 3

In the morning, after breakfast, the school's guidance / career counsellor showed me to my new office. I would report directly to Miriam, not to Gloria or Julie, a chain of command that I could both understand and live with, and was quite a bit happier with.

Apart from anything else I was very keen to not poach on anyone else's hunting grounds; this is known to often lead to chest-beating (first phase), followed by fisticuffs (phase two), and ultimately pistols at dawn or any number of other fateful horrors. None of which held any real appeal.

I was quickly disabused of these notions, Anthony (Math and Physics) was Rachel's (Chemistry) husband, and he seemed to be very much in love, and/or unwilling to do anything outside of his marriage bed; he didn't come across as too much of a pussy-whipped sissy-boy. Chris (English Literature and Drama) fell into the 'don't ask, don't tell' category, he most likely would happily roll over, and take it where the sun didn't shine. Alain (French and modern history) was now old enough that the only way that he could perform more often than once every two or three nights was with a little blue pill. Warren (Geography) was damaged goods, he had been injured in Iraq, and all the king's horses and all the king's men were unable to put Humpty (or at least the important bits) together again (maybe one day modern medical technology will eventually start to catch up with modern military technology, but not yet).

The other three men on staff had very little contact with even the staff, let alone the girls; Jason was chief of security and had several other ex-Marshalls (and other various flavours of ex-Special Agents – they were seldom willing to swap stories, even with a combat veteran), all female, to look after. Ryan and James, (ex-Air Force and ex-Army, respectively) both happily married, their wives being in the kitchen and the laundry respectively, were groundskeepers, and spent too much time riding lawnmowers and vacuuming the swimming pool, to even notice that they were surrounded by good-looking, and needy pussy.

My first appointment was with Clara, from Georgia, her father a member of the House of Representatives, fourteen, very much still a virgin, although her horse-riding may have already accounted for much of her hymen. After having had her in my office for over half an hour, with no screams or other sounds of sexual excitement, Miriam came into my office and basically read me the riot act. Clara claimed that she was only there for one reason, and she thought I looked 'nice enough' to be the dude that did the deed.

"Unfortunately I am unwilling to just get a young girl undressed and start fucking. I want to talk, get to know her better, make love. I mean we are investing quite a bit in her education, aren't we?"

Miriam answered, "Maybe your method might have merit, but you may have to fit in several such interviews a day, and you could end up running out of time."

When I had finally finished with Clara, she had declared her undying love for me, but she was now a de facto woman, I went up to lunch. Gloria told me in no uncertain terms that I was still on probation and that if I did not do my duty, they may have to release me, and finding another worthy cherry-popper may take an inordinate amount of time, and energy. She would be very pissed off if that were to happen – she may even feel herself forced to remove certain body parts; that I and any future wife might later come to regret the absence thereof.

My job description – make their first time, in fact any other time as well, be an enjoyable time. Be gentle. Give them an experience that they would know that other men can do just as well, but if I did it right, they would always judge other men, hoping for as good, although seldom better (my ego coming to the fore).

Over the next week, I took at least one class a day, sex ed. in front of an all-girl class, I was never sure that I was doing right, but both Miriam and Gloria were happy with my performance. I had four eighteen year olds, three seventeen year olds, six sixteen year olds, and thirteen younger girls all raving about my performance by the end of the third week. By the end of the second month, with fully half of the semester still to go, I was starting to have repeats. I shouldn't have been surprised, in a school that numbered less than two hundred girls, and fully half of the older girls were already experienced, and half of the younger girls were still not ready (one of those impossibly unquantifiable intangibles).

I had by the Christmas break sampled in excess of two-thirds of the girls, as well as most of the female staff; some of them more than once. And I still had the rest of the academic year to go! If one of the Lotharios from high school or the Don Juans from basic training, or any of the Valentinos from university had asked me just then, if I could think of a better choice of career path to the one that I was now on, I would have blown them all a raspberry of note, knowing that whatever else, none of their boasting came close to my reality.

But most importantly, for my own peace of mind, I was able to sleep well at night. I was usually so exhausted, or actually had someone in my bed, that my nightmares, were for the most part, things of the past.

Very early in the first semester, I had had one notable experience, where it led to many more with a lot of the girls who might not have shown much interest otherwise.

I suppose that I do qualify as what could be termed an alpha male, and I do have a dominant personality, I found that I really do enjoy straight sex, and everything that goes with that, including the foreplay, and after-play, showering together, and even just cuddling. But the one thing that had never really appealed to me, was the world of BDSM.

Now don't get me wrong, I have experienced pain, real pain, I just have no use for it as a form of leisure, or of pleasure? Pain for pleasure is an oxymoron if ever I heard of one, but that is only an opinion – and as we know everyone has one.

There was this one occasion, when I came to realise that there was one aspect that did make a lot of sense, or at least that came to work well for me. Spanking.

Ingrid, a large-boned, buxom senior of very likely Scandinavian or Teutonic heritage, and sassy as hell, had decided to try make my life a misery. I don't know where she got the idea that she could do that, but, anyway what she was doing and had been doing, led to her being put over my knee. She was one of those who had thought that she didn't need me or what I could teach her.

She ended up learning a valuable lesson.

It was Sex Ed. class on my second Wednesday afternoon, since I had arrived, in other words my second lesson for that particular group of students, just after lunch. She and two of her cronies had decided to disrespect me and the rest of the class. They weren't even whispering, but talking loudly; that was disrupting the class. Although she was taller than me, and had in the past been able to intimidate male (and female) teachers and other people, including even her own parents, this time she found herself to be in the submissive role.