Chapter 3: Settling In

The first few days of Adam's new job went by in a whirl of impressions and sensations. Greenwood was unconventional in many ways. He had known that things would be different, of course, from the beginning - but knowing it and experiencing it were two different things. Firstly he had two subjects to cover - the computing had, so far, not materialised and there had been no further reference to the 'additional duties' mentioned in the letter. As this was a boarding school, there were numerous supervisory duties, which all the staff seemed to do as a matter of course - although, he noted with wry amusement, he was not asked to supervise the girls' dormitories. Then, too, Anne seemed to have organised the classes in an unusual manner. As there were only 40 girls and five teachers altogether, conventional streaming was not practical. Still, some of the groupings were distinctly odd. He determined to broach the topic some time. As it was he had his hands full. His largest class had 8 girls and, contrary to his expectations, it was proving harder to deal with 8 girls than with 30. He retired to bed each night exhausted.

He was aware of other oddities. There seemed very little attention paid to games and sports, something he had sort of assumed went hand-in-hand with boarding schools. Riding seemed to be the only physical activity that was mentioned. In fact there seemed to be very few extra-curricular activities at all. The girls disappeared after the formal lessons and reappeared for dinner. It was very puzzling.

As he began to find his feet and relax, he began to notice more subtle distinctions and relationships. The grouping of the girls that he found so arbitrary to begin with seemed to work on a level he could not fathom. There was something about the girls that he couldn't quite put a finger on. For a start they were all mature for their years. Even the 14-year-olds could easily pass for 2 or 3 years older. What was more they were all extremely attractive - not one of them could be described as 'plain'. Indeed they were downright sexy. What is that mysterious element, that glamour, that makes a girl sexy rather than simply attractive? Whatever it is, these girls had it in spades. That was certainly one part of his unease - for the first time in his career, he was aware of his pupils as females rather than teenagers. He found himself watching them in the corridors, the enticing swing of their hips, the shifting of their developing breasts under the white blouses; ogling them as they ran across the school yard, young breasts bouncing.

But it was the uniforms that gave him the biggest shock. The glossy brochure he had read had stated that the school uniform was a dark green blazer, white shirt and charcoal grey skirt or slacks. The first two years were obliged to wear white ankle socks and the upper school black stockings or tights. In his mind he had sort of half assumed that the dress code would be strictly adhered to. He had imagined they would all dress like the three who had met him when he had come for the interview. The reality was that he had never seen such a bewildering variety of outfits, each of which seemed designed to enhance the charms of the wearer. Technically, yes, they were the school uniform - the jackets, when they were worn, were dark green, the shirts white and the skirts and slacks charcoal grey. But, beyond that, any resemblance to a uniform was entirely accidental. He seemed to be constantly surrounded by a sea of pulchritude. And it wasn't just the older girls, even the 2nd Form seemed intent on making him constantly aware of their developing bodies.

However, the real problem was that he wasn't connecting with them - and the harder he tried, the worse it became. He wasn't relating to them as he was used to and this disturbed him for he had always taken pride in his ability to relate to young people. All in all it was very frustrating and he began to wonder if he had made the right decision in coming to Greenwood.

He also became aware of subtle tensions in some of the classes, particularly with the older girls. Inevitably, being young girls in the first flush of womanhood, they began to flirt. He was used to this and had quickly learned, when he first started teaching, to ignore the none-too-subtle attempts of adolescent girls. But these girls were different: it was almost it was as if they were testing him in some strange and disturbing way. Not that they over- reached themselves or behaved out of turn, but, somehow, they made it clear that they were available - he only needed to say the word.

One incident, in particular, stood out. He was walking through the grounds one evening when he heard the sounds of girlish giggles coming from a small copse of trees. Knowing they were not supposed to be there, he went to investigate and was brought up short by their conversation.

"... and old George is always trying to cop a feel," said one.

In your dreams," retorted another.

Yeuch! Nightmares, more like. He's such a dirty old man."

He wouldn't really try it on, would he?"

No. He just pretends. Ms Henderson had made it quite clear what would happen if he did," said a slightly older voice.

Is that why we put on our little show? To keep old George happy?"

That's right. Ms Henderson reckons if we give him a bit of a show, he'll be quite happy and won't bother us."

Someone giggled. "I bet he gets his thingy out and plays with himself."

The words are 'cock' and 'masturbate' - or 'wank', if you want to be crude."

"Ugh. How disgusting."

"What? Saying 'cock' and 'wank'?"

"No, silly, the thought of dirty old George watching us and wanking."

"I don't think so. I think it's rather exciting knowing he's out there and getting all excited watching me."

"You're a complete slut, you are."

"Now, if only it was Mr Hazel," sighed one.

"Oh, yes. He's dreamy."

"If he got his cock out and masturbated, I wouldn't mind at all."

"You'd run away and hide."

"No I wouldn't. I'd..."

"What would you do?"

"I'd ask him if he needed a hand," she retorted defiantly.

This was greeted with howls of mirth.

"Would you put out for him, Cee?" asked someone when the laughter had subsided.

"Definitely."

"What? All the way?"

"All the way and back again. He could do whatever he liked."

"Me too," someone said dreamily.

"I think we probably all would, you know. If we were truly honest about it."

They fell silent and Adam felt his face flaming.

"He's a bit of a wimp, though," said one at last.

"How do you mean?"

"He's not very strict - not like Miss Beech."

"Miss Beech is fierce."

"I like her."

"You would. You're her pet."

"I am not."

"Yes you are. You suck up to her all day."

"I do not."

"Girls, girls," said a soothing voice. "I think we all agree that Miss Birch - I mean Miss Beech - is quite strict. What do you mean that Mr Hazel is a wimp? Haven't we all just said he's a dish?"

"I mean he's really nice and all that but..."

"You want him to spank your bottom."

The girl's dissolved into giggles and Adam fled. He was both incredibly aroused and more than a bit troubled by what he had heard. And the mystery that seemed to envelop this school only deepened.

He was a good teacher - he knew he was a good teacher. So why was he having so much difficulty in connecting with these girls. They weren't stupid; far from it. They weren't insolent or badly behaved: the opposite was the case - they were better behaved than he would have expected. So what was the problem?