Mrs Hendersons New Job

Chapter 1

It was a bright, sunny day as Charlotte Henderson drove up the driveway that led to St Jude's School for Troubled Young Men. It was an imposing, official-looking building; it housed between five hundred and eight hundred and fifty men between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, all of whom had been in some trouble with the law. St Jude's was a last resort, a place where delinquents' families would send them in the hopes of getting them to straighten up and fly right, while they were still young enough to change. And it worked – miraculously well, in fact. Ninety-five per cent of the men who attended St Jude's committed no further crimes. Unsurprisingly, the staff of St Jude's were extremely secretive about their work – after all, they made a lot of money out of being the most successful reform school in the country. So, arriving for her job interview, Mrs Henderson had no clue what exactly her job would involve. She'd be teaching – that was all she knew.

In the reception area, a well-dressed man met her.

"Hey," he said. "Mrs Henderson, I presume?"

"Yes. Hi."

He shook her hand. "Dave Smith, pleased to meet you. I'm the school therapist – the students come to see me with any problems they might be having and so on – you know the drill. Anyway, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to see Mary. She's been looking forward to interviewing you."

"Oh? Really?" Mrs Henderson was pleasantly surprised. It looked like she might stand a pretty good chance at getting the job.

She followed him through the school. Class was in session, but there were still one or two students in the halls moving to or from lessons. As she passed by them, they unashamedly checked her out. Well, what did you expect in a reform school? And it was slightly gratifying to know that even at the age of thirty-nine, her body still drove men wild. She put a lot of effort into maintaining her figure, and she was proud of her D-cup breasts, her slim waist and her wide, full hips.

Dave led her into the headmistress' office, where Ms Moore, the head, was sitting at her desk. As Mrs Henderson came in, Ms Moore got up to greet her.

Ms Moore was a little shorter than Mrs Henderson, with long brown hair, a slim figure and breasts that – while smaller than Mrs Henderson's – were still of a perfectly respectable size. She was wearing a pair of jade earrings. She wasn't wearing anything else.

"Good morning, Mrs Henderson," Ms Moore said.

"Oh – er...hi." Mrs Henderson was lost for words. Nothing quite matches the shock of seeing a beautiful naked woman standing in front of you as if everything is perfectly normal. Ms Moore stepped over and shook Mrs Henderson's hand, her round breasts swaying with the motion. Mrs Henderson couldn't stop staring at her new boss' body – her long, shapely legs, her slim hips, and the carefully-maintained strip of black pubic hair above her pussy.

Ms Moore smiled. "I know, you must be surprised. Have a seat, and I'll explain everything." She gestured towards a chair in front of the desk.

Mrs Henderson sat down, stunned. She felt as if she were dreaming.

"You're probably wondering why I'm dressed – or rather, not dressed – like this."

"Well, yes, actually."

Ms Moore smiled. "It's part of our policy. All female teachers are required to teach in the nude. We find it helps keep our students interested in their studies."

"Wait – all female teachers? Does that mean – "

"Yes, this would include you – if, of course, you take the job here."

Mrs Henderson felt faint.

"But before you make a decision, let me explain a bit about our policy. Ten years ago, St Jude's was struggling. We had the highest failure rate of any reform school in the country, our staff were resigning left right and centre and we were haemorrhaging money. We adopted this policy as a last resort – it was a desperate gamble, but it paid off. Our students began coming to class without being threatened with punishment; their grades shot up; and, most importantly, their recidivism rates went through the floor. Of course, we had trouble finding staff, but once we raised the salaries high enough that problem disappeared. After all, teaching is not exactly the most profitable profession – we find that most of our staff are perfectly happy to follow our rules in exchange for what we pay them."

Mrs Henderson had to admit, the money they were offering was incredible – she never would have thought she'd be rich from teaching, but this might just be her chance. Still, though, when she tried to imagine herself standing, completely naked, in front of a classroom full of young men, she felt as if she might pass out.

She sat, speechless, trying to arrange her thoughts. Through all the confusion in her mind, one thing stood out clearly; she really did need the money. She and her husband were drowning in debt, and this looked like the best shot she'd ever get at getting her finances in order. She took a deep breath.

"Ok," she said, "I'll take the job."

The next morning was the most nerve-wracking of her life. The plan was simple – Mrs Henderson would arrive at work fully dressed, then undress in the staff room. After that, she would be completely naked for the rest of the day, before getting dressed again after the day was over. The thought of spending a full eight-hour work day without a stitch of clothing terrified her, but she was willing to brave the humiliation. Stepping out of her car, she steeled herself; once she entered the school, there would be no going back.

As she walked to the staff room, she couldn't help but notice the way the students - and the male staff – stared at her. They all knew that, in a little while, they'd be getting to see a lot more of her.

The staff room, when she got there, was empty – thank God for small mercies. Mrs Henderson was already shaking with nervousness at the thought of teaching naked; undressing in front of other people would be more than she could stand.

She took a deep breath.

"Well," she said to herself, "May as well get it over with."

She hung her jacket on a peg by the door, and unbuttoned her shirt. Hanging it next to her jacket, she lipped out of her skirt and stood in just her matching black bra and panties. She started to hurry, wanting to finish undressing before anyone walked in. She took off her bra to reveal her D-cup breasts, remarkably perky for a woman pushing forty. Her red hair was just long enough to cover her nipples, preserving at least some of her modesty. She hesitated a moment before taking the final step – then, quick as ripping off a sticking plaster, she took off her panties and stood completely naked, save for her black heels and glasses. This was going to be an interesting day.