Chapter 15

“Excellent.” First thing next morning Janice was looking over my shoulder while we took a look at the footage. “Isn’t she lovely? Still fifteen too, that’s premium. Well, worth more than sixteen anyway. Such a vigorous orgasm, and that bit of reluctance is pure gold, especially with her getting into it so thoroughly afterwards. Okay let me have me the five-minute edit this evening, then see what we’ve got from later on. They’re still at it, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” I switched back to the live pictures, where Rose was stirring under Candace’s wakening caresses. The temperature in the infirmary is controlled remotely from Janice’s office, so the quilt was mostly on the floor and we had a perfect view of the two delectable bodies nestled affectionately together.

“Good,” Janice was energised, presumably anticipating the impending fresh sex scene followed by a shower scene. There’s a camera in the shower, so we’d get titillating steamy shots from outside, and crisp hi-res shots from inside. The girls would be be going in nude together, getting wet, soaping each other, rinsing, drying, then having another session on the bed, before leaving to walk along corridors and up stairs just in towels. “Get your breakfast and carry on later. What’s your first class? Physics? Alright send me one, this has made me feel like some action.”

Janice only sleeps four hours a night and had had breakfast already. Now I had to send a girl for her to lure into sex, or cajole or who knew. Janice’s office has no cameras in it - or at least not on the system I had access to - so I could only guess what would happen. I just knew my freedom, or relative freedom perhaps I should say, depended on my sending her a luscious young thing. I told myself Janice wouldn’t do anything too awful to her, so the girl wouldn’t just call the cops.

The girls all had their phones of course - even Janice hadn’t hoped to make a phone ban stick - but they were here because the parents they’d have called to get them out of here were the very ones who’d sent them here in the first place. So Janice could push them a bit; but only so far.

My physics class was Key Stage 3, meaning Year 9. It was unfortunate, but I couldn’t do anything about it. So when the girls had finally trailed into the converted bar, I started the lesson, about gravity and planets, and after giving my presentation did the usual thing of involving the class.

“So,” I addressed the nine fidgeting students “who wants to start off the discussion?”

Silence.

“Okay, let’s start with orbiting and gravity. Tell us something about how they’re related...” I scanned the room for the least attentive pupil: “Evelyn.” It was the tiny one from Room 8. She glowered blankly at me. “Alright, what is it that makes planets go round and round instead of zooming off in a straight line?”

“Gravity, I suppose,” she grumped.

“Right, good,” I congratulated her. “Now onto you Stella, tell us how the size of a planet makes a difference...”

I worked determinedly along the two rows of girls, extracting responses like teeth, until I came to the prettiest one - like Bob I was hoping to gain favour with Janice and eventually be set free. “Now you Sofia. How do they know what distance to launch a satellite to?”

“I don’t freaking know do I?” I hadn’t covered this issue, and she knew my question was unfair. Also she was exploring the unfamiliar boundaries of Janice’s regime. Janice, who does focus more intensely than lesser people, had decreed we were not going to waste our energies on trivial rules about clothing, language, hairstyles, manners and other minor issues.

She wanted applications from desperate parents, fees paid, and enough exams passed to avoid inspections. That was all. Oh and extras if possible. And video. Focus. Teachers’ orders had to be obeyed to avoid complete chaos, but we were to issue as few of them as possible. She wanted the girls to be free, and get filmed being free.

“Alright well,” I said to the beautiful brunette Sofia, “what do we call a satellite whose trajectory keeps it in the same place?”

“I don’t know, you didn’t say did you?” I could see she was starting to feel shown up, in case the others knew. She was a little insecure, like many of them.

“Come on,” I ramped up the pressure, “what do you call something that’s not moving, relative to Earth?”

She looked down at her table, saying nothing. Her lovely cheeks were glowing with the humiliation, though she was trying to hide them amongst her mass of glossy dark-brown hair - a huge number of thin, straight strands that envelop her shoulders and half her back.

“Just make a start,” I encouraged her, “if something’s not moving what is it?”

“I DON’T FUCKING KNOW,” she wailed and threw her pen at me. She was insecure, but not passive. There were tears in her beautiful hazel-brown eyes.

“Well you’ll have to go and see the Head, since you won’t try,” I said. I felt bad, but perhaps Janice would start by consoling her and work it that way? “Come along to her office. And next time do as you’re told.”

“I would do as I was told if I fucking could!” she spat, but she stood up and I shepherded her out and along to her fate, whatever it was going to be.

“I feel bad about it,” I confided to Candace and Bob, in our tiny shared office at break time.

“I know,” Candace nodded, “I feel the same. Rose is going to be being leered at all over the Middle East, at the best, by lots of dirty old men, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“And I’ve got to edit up the video,” I said.

“Janice has got us stitched up tight,” sighed Bob.