In all my twelve-and-a-half years of schooling I'd never had detention. I was always the class good girl, something of a teachers pet, according to a number of my peers. At eighteen I was still a virgin, although not entirely ignorant of the ins and outs of sexual intimacy. Then one day, to my horror, I found myself with my name in the detention book, courtesy of what turned out to be a conspiracy by an evil-intentioned group of my peers who wanted to cause me a maximum amount of embarrassment. We had a new relief teacher who was a stickler for rules she'd laid down to the class on her first day, one of which was our eyes on her for the entire duration of the instruction period. Turning to talk with anyone behind was a capital offense, as far as she was concerned. When some small projectile stung my cheek I turned to remonstrate and this was enough cost me two hours' detention. Being a well behaved girl I didn't argue with my elders or betters.
I'd heard gossip around the school that some girls had escaped spending a full term of detention by having sex with the room's supervising teacher on that day. Being a virgin, that just wasn't an option, even if I'd wanted it to be, which I didn't. I'd rather suffer the indignity of a two hour punishment than be embarrassed by submitting to some groping old lecher smelling of drink and tobacco smoke.
As things transpired, it was Mr Ulrich who was on duty that day, a rather pleasant teacher who taught me social studies. He didn't smell bad, but of breath-freshener and hair conditioner.
"Ah, Miss Nash," he grinned. "What could you have done to deserve punishment. It seems hard to believe."
"I turned around in class and Mrs Gallop saw me."
"And why did you commit such a heinous crime, pray tell?"
"I think someone stung me with a pea-shooter, or something like that," I told him, indicating the still visible red mark on my face.
"Well I can't believe you'd have willfully disobeyed the Dragon-lady, so you can go home now," he chuckled.
"I wouldn't feel quite right about that, sir," I told him.
"Why not?"
"I'd feel like I was getting special treatment, something that others had not got. And if anyone saw me off early they'd know, then the whole school too."
"So what?"
"So I'd be embarrassed."
"Why?"
"Because everybody says there's a quid pro quo for getting out early from detention early and I don't want that kind of reputation, so it's best that I serve the full penalty."
"Do you believe it, about the sex I mean?"
"I don't know, but it doesn't matter, everyone else believes it."
He gave me a long, intense look.
"Did you engineer this situation to find out if the rumours were true?"
"No!" I told him adamantly.
"Well, in my experience a lot of girls do, for one reason or another. All the teachers have to be very careful about finding themselves alone with a female student. If a girl makes an allegation, true or not, it can damage a man's reputation permanently."
"Oh, I'd never do that, Sir," I assured him. "I wouldn't lie about anyone for any reason. I'd keep quiet rather than say anything bad about a person, anybody, even those I disliked."
"Well you're obviously as lovely a person as you've always seemed to me, but you shouldn't be so influenced by what your peers think about things."
"How do you mean?"
"Be your own person, have your own opinions and think for yourself rather than just following the herd and being confined to what's fashionable at the time. And don't just decide you don't like things because you haven't tried them yourself. Be curious and adventurous rather than avoiding situations, you'll find life so much more fun if you do."
"My mum's always warned me against taking risks, telling me that I should take the safety first option in all things. I suppose that's why I don't do anything much out of the ordinary."
"So how do you feel about those girls who do risk their reputations to do what pleases them, rather than keeping up the appearance of respectability? Is it contempt or do you envy their enterprise?"
I thought about this for a moment and realized I did envy those girls who had reputations as being sexually active, the girls who'd created my latest difficulty with their practical 'joke', then understood that I'd never have known the experience of detention without their having done that.
"The latter, I guess, to be honest about it," I blushed. "Not that I'd be inclined to emulate them. That's just not me and I really can't imagine myself going with any of the boys I know. I think I'd rather enter a convent, but I'll wait until I'm older to find someone more suitable to my taste and needs."
"Safety first, eh. No rushing into things," he chuckled and I felt slightly foolish.
I hesitated for a moment, uncertain about opening up to him about my true thoughts and doubts as to my sexual participation.
"I have no experience and I'm scared of embarrassing myself by not being able to go through with it at the crucial moment," I explained to him. "I'd just die, I know it."
"Well you'll have to hope you get to find that partner sooner rather than later, won't you?" he said with a teasing smile.
I held his gaze and gave him finger my best attempt at a coquettish look with a finger on my bottom lip.
"Please, Sir, would I be able to leave early today? I really need to do a chore, an errand for my sick mother. I wasn't expecting to be kept in."
"And you said you understood there is a quid pro quo for an early exit?"
"Yes, I must demonstrate that I'm able to do what I'm told by my teacher, absolutely, to the letter, I promise."
"Good girl," he grinned, putting his arm around my waist to lead me into the preparation room between the two classrooms.
My heart raced and my whole body tingled with anticipation of what I was soon to experience, although I was wondering whatever possessed me to allow myself to be swayed by his chat about my taking control of my life. However, I shrugged inwardly, it was too late to back out then and I was stuck with my decision, for better or for worse. It wasn't that I had any moral qualms over sex, just that the lack of acceptable partners had held me back as had fear of being labeled a slut or moll for having tried it with a local boy.
He closed the venetian blind and stood behind me and cupped my breasts in his hands, squeezing them delightfully.
"Oooh Mr Ulrich! What are you doing?" I asked mock-querulously.
"I'm feeling a pair of lovely, firm, young titties," he growled playfully, sliding his hands up under my shirt to expertly unfasten my bra and massage my bare breasts, thrilling me by gently pinching my swollen nipples between thumbs and forefingers.
One hand slid down my body, under my skirt and beneath my panty waistband to cover my furry muff. There was a pause in proceedings and I got the idea that he sought some response from me so I breathed "Yes" and wiggled my bum against his front, feeling the bulge there. I had no real knowledge of what a penis looked like, but it seemed to be awfully big by comparison with my little pussy.
A finger slid down my slit and back to find my clitty to press and circle it more pleasurably than I'd ever done to myself, causing my whole body to jerk and jump at the thrill, then into my sheath. After running it back and forth a few times he inserted a second, then a third. There was only slight discomfort as he spread his fingers, but then pleasure as he returned to an alternating regime of clit titillation and deep finger thrusting. It seemed that, given my pussy was able to accommodate a bunch of thick male fingers, I needed have few fears over the prospect of defloration.
