1st Period History
As tempted as she was, Abbi resisted the urge to run to her dorm room to change her offending panties. Any staff encounter between the Betty Page Building and the Anais Nin Dormitory without a hall pass would surely mean more punishment for her chastened bottom. Seeking out the Vice Principal for permission was out of the question too. Embarrassing.
Even though her trip to the nurse's office took less than a half an hour, homeroom was empty, and the students had moved on to other classrooms for their first official period. Ms. Buchanan was still at her desk, reviewing papers.
Abbi wondered when the illusion would merge with reality, when she forgot she was just one participant among many. It still felt like playtime, not that far removed from the sexy Skype sessions with her online Daddy. Ms. Buchanan seemed fully immersed and so had Nurse Polk. Abbi felt a pang of jealousy when she saw her there, marking up a planned lecture.
"Oh, Miss Abbi," Ms. Buchanan exclaimed. "I realized after you left that I should have given you your classroom assignments for today."
"It's ok Ms. Buchanan," Abbi demurred. She felt reluctant to engage. The illusion of being a schoolgirl hadn't yet become real, but the punishment for her first infraction was.
"The Sophomores were sent to room 205, just down the hall, for History class. I can take you over there if you like."
"Um, no Ms. Buchanan," Abbi said. "It's just a couple of doors down, I'm sure I can find it."
"Ok, just don't be afraid to ask for help," Ms. Buchanan flashed a matronly smile. "That's what we're here for."
"Yes, Ms. Buchanan," Abbi returned the smile and felt herself relax a bit.
Abbi left the homeroom and found the door to room 205 quickly. She hesitated before entering though. She felt an absurd urge to knock, unsure of how her late entry would be taken by the teacher.
I'm going to drive myself crazy, Abbi thought, if I worry over every little thing I do could get me into trouble.
Abbi entered a classroom that was a vivid memory of a time she never experienced, at a school she never attended. Unlike the generic Homeroom, Room 205 was decked out with considerable detail. The personality of the history teacher shone through the decorations. From the country flags to the maps and pictures of world leaders, the hand cut letters in bright construction paper above the whiteboard, books piled on a heavy wooden desk, even a handmade sign next to the clock proclaiming "A Watched Clock Never Ticks", it all screamed tenured history teacher.
Ms. Ford looked up in surprise from behind her lectern. Just behind her in big friendly letters on the whiteboard was her name and the class title "The History of the Kama Sutra".
"Ah, Miss Abbi," she said. "There you are."
"Nurse Polk needed me in her office, for a, you know," Abbi shut that admission down quick. Her face flushed again with the knowledge that she almost told everyone what happened in the Nurse's Office.
"Understood. Please take a seat."
Abbi moved to the only remaining desk, front and center. She knew all her sophomore classmates were looking at her, but she managed the trip without making eye contact. Abbi slung her backpack in the wire tray under the red plastic seat and sat.
Ms. Ford resumed her lecture. She was not tall, but her presence filled the room. She was the most striking woman Abbi had seen in a long time. The other girls in her dorm were cute, young, and girlish. Kamilla was especially beautiful to her, but Ms. Ford was a capital-W Woman. Her height was the only thing average about her. Her bust and hips strained so hard at the fabric of her black pinstriped pantsuit, Abbi believed if she sneezed or laughed too hard, Ms. Ford would be naked in an explosion of fabric. Her fiery red hair was pulled back in a severe bun (the hairstyle of choice for all the female staff of the Academy, it seemed) and her delicate highlander features were highlighted by a small amount of expertly applied makeup.
It was hard to judge her age, but Abbi guessed Ms. Ford was maybe 40. Older people were always more attractive to Abbi, but Ms. Ford had her attention in a way that she had never experienced before.
Enchanted.
It took a little while for the content of Ms. Ford's lecture to penetrate Abbi's enchantment.
"...It's so much more than a sex book, as you'll find. The Kama Sutra has seven chapters filled with advice for a fulfilling love life, with sexual congress being just one aspect. Most of it would seem antiquated or backward to you reading it now, but it's an important cultural cornerstone."
Abbi finally looked around. The other students also sat enthralled. Kamilla sat just to Abbi's right, and her slack expression and dilated pupils would have made her inner state obvious if anyone cared to look away from Ms. Ford.
"Does anyone know how the Western World came to know about the Kama Sutra?" Ms. Ford asked.
The boy to Abbi's left raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Kyle."
"Didn't Richard Burton translate it and give it to his friends in Britain?"
"Richard Burton was an actor married to Liz Taylor," Ariel interrupted. "Dummy," she added.
"Miss Ariel, we don't call our classmates names," Ms. Ford admonished. "And raise your hand before talking."
"Yes Ms. Ford," Ariel responded, a blush already reddening her cheeks.
"Mr. Kyle is right, actually. Sir Richard Burton was a rather notorious British explorer in the 19th century who translated several works beside the Kama Sutra, 1001 Arabian Nights and the Perfumed Garden, for example. Even though Burton's translation changed the meaning of the Kama Sutra in ways he felt would read easier to his staid Victorian audience, it was banned from printing for decades. This of course meant just about everyone read it anyway."
The class laughed at this observation. Ms. Ford voice was authoritative but soothing, and Abbi found herself lost in the lecture and unable to look away.
After speaking on the subject for a little while longer, Ms. Ford took out a tablet from which she commanded a screen to descend from the ceiling in front of the whiteboard on one side and a projector from the other.
"Now students, before I present this slide show, I expect you to act like the mature young men and women that you are. These images may be titillating, but I would hope you treat this with the same respect you would a trip to an art museum."
Someone muttered "Huh, titillating," and there were a few giggles. This was sure to go well.
The lights went out and blackout curtains rolled down in front of the high frosted windows. She showed slide after slide of sex positions, starting with depictions in worn old sculptures and illustrations, some textbook vector drawings. Abbi became stimulated again, and she was sure she wasn't alone. A few murmurs were heard, but the slideshow had their full attention.
Ms. Ford offered no commentary, only sat at her desk watching her students carefully.
Then came more modern still images, some artfully staged with sleek models, others far cruder, clippings from old porno mags and screencaps from PornTube.
"Ms. Ford? What are the people doing in these pictures?" asked Blair.
"Weren't you listening earlier, Miss Blair? These images are depicting sexual intercourse."
"Like, making babies?"
Everyone laughed, but Ms. Ford looked stern.
