(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it.
I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part fourteen of my sorry tale.)
*
In their dormitory I lay motionless with my head under Veronique's pleated tartan school skirt, exhausted and relaxed. I shut my eyes and heard her say something to me which I did not quite make out. She lifted up her skirt and underslip and repeated it.
"C'est maintenant onze heures et ce sera des 'lumières-dehors 'sous peu. Vous pouvez rester avec nous pour la nuit mais vous devez choisir avec qui vous dormirez," she said.
This time I understood her to say that it would be lights-out shortly and that I could stay there with them but I had to choose with whom I would sleep.
I surveyed the room and was greeted my many smiling faces. Many of the girls by now were wearing pyjamas and nightdresses. I felt slightly miffed that I had not witnessed them undressing, but I suppose I could not complain, as I had seen them all naked in the changing room earlier. The showering session seemed like a long time ago.
I looked around the room and they all appeared breathtakingly inviting and enticing, but, emerging from the bathroom, I saw a tall black-haired girl displaying angular features and a prominent aquiline nose.
She stood in the doorway where her white knee-length nylon nightdress, with the light from the bathroom shining behind it, appeared almost transparent. She strode like a 'cat-walk' model towards me, her hips swiveling at every step. She had an austere, aristocratic, almost animal expression which was emphasised by her unplucked dark eyebrows and high cheek bones.
"Est-ce que Louise, vous souhaitez dormir avec M. Peeping-Tom, et avez le sexe avec lui ce soir?" enquired Veronique to Louise Bazaine, asking her if she wished me to sleep and have sex with her that night.
Her face remained expressionless but replied that she would like me only for sex, but showed little enthusiasm. She looked me up and down in a casual, almost off-hand, way. She glowered at me and walked to her part of the room.
A few minutes later a bell sounded announcing 'lights out' and I followed 'the model' to her bed near the door. She pulled back the crisp cotton duvet and slid in. I joined her but was aware that she was taking up most of the bed. Our cool limbs touched.
Throughout the dormitory the bedside lights were switched off, one by one, until the entire room was plunged into darkness except for one small light shining in the bathroom at the far end of the long attic room. Louise smelled of perfumed soap and toothpaste. I lay next to her listening to her breathing. In the gloom I could see her eyes staring at me, flashing, waiting for me to make a move.
Within seconds I was on top of her and we were kissing, our mouths locked, with our tongues wildly delving and exploring. I ran my hands over her body and tugged her nightdress up to her waist. She pushed her pelvis up so that I could ease the slippery nylon up to her breasts. We continued kissing while I fondled her upper legs, thighs and stomach. I avoided touching her between her legs but teased her, scratching her inner thighs, but stopping just short of her waiting vagina.
From the next bed, I noticed a pair of eyes watching us. In the half light I saw someone get up, run over and whisper something to Louise.
She said "Oui,"under her breath, between kisses, and the bed creaked behind me as someone else got in. Immediately I felt cool hard nipples on my back and long slender fingers gripping my now fully erect penis. A long leg was draped around my waist.
The girl, who had joined us in the bed, knew exactly how to stimulate male anatomy because within minutes she was wanking me at high speed, judging mysteriously that I was aroused enough to attain an orgasm. My kissing increased in pace. Louise groaned as I pushed two, then three fingers inside her dripping labia and wiggled them slimily about.
She attempted to say something to me, through our kissing, but it came out as gibberish. She moaned, swore at me, and then pulled me back into her face. Our kissing increased in rapidity with my fingers stimulated her clitoris, almost to 'crisis' point. One hand held my head as she forced her tongue brutally down the back of my throat.
Once again it appeared that both these girls were venting their pent up sexual frustrations on me, a mere 'Peeping Tom' in their eyes. I was again in a kind of 'French schoolgirl' paradise, savouring every sound, touch and smell from these gangling beauties lying to each side of me under the huge king-size quilt.
I continued with my fingering of Louise's now slimy labia and readied myself to enter her but this was to be denied. Out of the blue I felt the red hot sensation of seminal fluid gathering inside me, and welling up. Immediately I emptied myself in seven vigorous thrusts all over 'the model's' thighs, pubic hair and stomach. She groaned and swore at me, with the realisation that I had not penetrated her. The visitor in our bed began to lick my ears and continued wanking me, clearly intent on making me stiff once more.
I lay on my back with Louise curled up against me to one side, my fingers still stimulating her. The stranger, whom I could now make out to be Eloise Larocque, lay against me on the other side. I spread my legs and continued to finger Louise. She reluctantly pushed me away and told me, breathlessly, in French, that she was too sensitive and was unable to achieve an orgasm. She swore again.
Easing my arms around their shoulders I pulled them towards me. In the darkness I listened to both of them breathing against my neck. Eloise's curly hair lay across my chest as I nudged her playfully with my chin. I felt tiny flicks of Louise's eyelashes tickling my cheek and her hair spread across my neck and chest. Two hands caressed my stomach and cupped my balls. Two pairs of legs were spread over mine, trapping them, squeezing them and easing them apart.