Chapter 1

Brunswick Manor is a college for sixth form students between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. It has a long and distinguished history as one of England's foremost academic institutions. Rebecca Lewin is an English and drama teacher of the highest calibre, having taught at some of the best schools in the country, before coming to Brunswick seven months ago. She has an impressive CV, one any teacher would be proud of; however, there were some things about Rebecca Lewin, or Becca as she preferred to be called, that she was glad her current employers were not aware of. Becca was a bisexual with a voracious appetite for young women. Given that she taught some very attractive and vulnerable young women every day, Becca Lewin thought that she had one of the best jobs in the world.

To look at, Becca was nothing special, not particularly pretty but not plain either. She was from a Jewish background, though she was not religious herself. Her hair was collar length, and very dark brown, almost black, and she had a slightly swarthy complexion, with a rather large nose. It was her nose that stopped her from being pretty. Because of a slight myopic condition, she'd worn glasses since she was a young girl. She wasn't a tall woman, only five feet four inches, and like so many women her age, thirty one, she was struggling with her weight. As a result, Becca's shape was somewhat dictated by her wide hips, large rear and huge boobs.

She made her way along the corridor of the third, and top floor of the building, carrying a stack of exercise books, it was eight forty-five. Here was located a small gym hall with changing facilities and two classrooms. The larger was Becca's English and Drama room, the other room was an art studio. As she approached the door, the narrow corridor was lined with students waiting to be let in to the room. Becca said 'good morning' to the assembled class and received a barrage of 'good morning Miss Lewin's' back. Taking a key from the bunch attached to her waistband, she unlocked the door, entered and put the pile of books on her desk. Sitting down, she went through the attendance list, calling out the list of twenty-two names, only three of her pupils were not at school that day. Putting the list back in her desk drawer, she moved up and down the rows of desks handing out the marked books, stopping at every student to make a constructive and encouraging comment about the submitted work. Sitting back at her desk, Becca surveyed the sea of young expectant faces, some were smiling, some were just waiting expressionless for her to begin the lesson. One particular face amongst the eighteen year olds, was that of Sofia Rees-Davis. The look on her face was different to any of the others, she was looking at Becca with a expression of admiration bordering on adoration. Becca was not surprised by this because she and Sofia had been having a sexual relationship for the past three weeks. The student occasionally glanced over to a door in the corner of the room and smiled knowingly. This was the door to a small storeroom where the two women had first kissed and touched each other intimately, and where only a few days ago, had indulged in full sex. Early on, Becca had recognised the first signs of a schoolgirl crush. The prolonged eye contact, the ever ready smile, the contrived excuses to be alone with her, all signalled an adolescent caprice. It was reprehensible for her to take advantage of this naïve girl's feelings, but her carnal desires were far too strong to be countered by any sense of propriety or guilt. Becca was fully aware that although these pupils were above the age of consent, her relationships with them constituted an instant sackable offence. It was seen as 'moral turpitude' but Becca's intense sexual drive, her needs, her demons conspired to minimise any influence on her actions.

As Becca embarked on a discourse of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' she could not stop thoughts of the lovely Sofia invading her mind. It was difficult to maintain a coherent stream of thought about Miss Austen's beautiful book while memories of Sofia's young, and even more beautiful body competed for her attention. Sofia had thankfully stopped staring at her and was now engrossed in the text book in front of her. As Becca spoke of the interplay between the book's characters, of Elizabeth Bennet, her daughters, and Darcy, she felt herself detached, as if her narrative was voiced by someone else, allowing her to freely entertain sweet thoughts of Sofia.