This is a work of fiction. All characters portrayed are fictional and over 18 years of age. However, the school and its cute uniform exist and can be viewed online for visual context.
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What a wonderful discovery I made last week! While on a 15 minute work break and sipping on a very hot coffee, I sat in my office, flicking through some random classified listings in a little local newsletter someone must have dropped off or accidentally left behind. The classifieds contained the usual job listings, personals, local small business offerings and the like. I scanned them idly, half reading some of them and occasionally chuckling at the more unusual entries or ham-fisted attempts at self-promotion.
I finished my coffee, stretching in my seat as I yawned. I picked up the empty coffee cup to go wash it and was about to fold up the newsletter to throw it in the recycling bin when suddenly a small ad, caught my eye. Entitled: 'St Catherine's Toorak - girls now available for hire', I hadn't noticed it earlier because it occupied a small, bordered space by itself in the lower corner of the last page.
Of course, I was very familiar with the exclusive, all-girls senior high school. St Catherine's Toorak had a long standing reputation for excellence in education and included amongst it's students the daughters of many of the wealthiest families in the area. It's private school fees are proudly ranked as some of the highest in the country and they are renowned for producing very pretty school girls in their distinctive, grey-blue uniforms.
I eagerly continued reading the text of the advertisement:
'Now available for hire by-the-hour to complete odd jobs around your home, office or other setting. Very well behaved, elegant, dilligent young ladies - will do anything asked of them. Please contact us on the number below if you need further details or go ahead and make your selection online at (website address listed).'
The ad briefly continued:
'All money raised is donated to local charities and the girls are rewarded with special credits for their voluntary work.'
My mind raced as I imagined tasking delicious things for these cute school girls to do around my house or, indeed, right here on my office desk - once the blinds were pulled down.
I concluded that, if legit, it must be a new program the school has set up. Surely, I would otherwise have heard about it already. I put my dirty coffee cup back on the desk and spun around to my computer keyboard.
Typing in the website address provided in the ad, surely enough, a booking portal opened via the school's official website. So, to my immense relief I was satisfied that the school program was legitimate.
The webpage explained the service in a bit more detail: how 'volunteering' a certain number of community service hours was part of the students' curriculum.
Then there was a photo gallery of the available girls in the program, smiling sweetly in their school uniforms. Scanning over the selection, I quickly narrowed it down and clicked on the picture of a girl of stunning good looks. Her soft blue eyes and sweet mouth smiled back at me from the computer monitor, her light brown hair tied up with a sky blue ribbon into a ponytail.
This brought up a some larger photos and a brief bio:
Age: 18
Weight: 48kg
Hair colour: Light brown
Eyes: Blue
Hobbies: Gymnastics, reading and camping.
Available skills: Cleaning, filing, gardening, helping around the house or office.
There was apparently a flat hourly rate of $30 for the girls, so I booked her for 4 hours on Saturday, starting at 2:30pm.
I was then prompted to indicate whether any special clothes were needed (e.g. work wear for gardening) or whether they should attend in school uniform. I clicked on the school uniform option.
To complete the booking and lock it in, I provided some fake personal details, listed my home rental address, paid upfront and received a confirmation message.
I really had no odd jobs that needed attention at home, so I had to think hard on what I could pretend needed doing so that I could ease her into it when she arrived.
Eventually, I was ready with a short list of bogus housework tasks:
1. Dusting the top shelves in my library (I have a small, wooden ladder to enable this (which I will hold for her).
2. Scrubbing clean my shower and spa (she will need to strip down to her underpants so as not to get her school uniform wet).
3. School uniform back on - although no bra or underpants needed - and giving me an oil massage in the bedroom (back and front).
Saturday finally arrived and throughout the morning I couldn't stop thinking about what the afternoon would bring.
Since she was due to arrive at my house at 2:30pm, I ate an early light lunch and took a long, hot shower to relax. With about 30 minutes until her booking time, I reviewed the special items I had arranged the night before which I thought may be fun to use on her.
I checked everything off in my head as I looked over the box of items: a bottle of sex gel, a fresh safety razor and a can of shaving cream (just in case any pubic hair needs to be cleaned up).
Satisified that everything was ready, I cracked open a cold beer, flopped on the couch and flicked on the TV. That half an hour crawled along and seemed to last an eternity.
Finally, at 2:32pm, the doorbell rang - "two minutes late!" I thought as i glanced at my watch. Opening the door, my eyes were greeted by a delicious sight: the beautiful, young schoolgirl was standing there by herself in her blue-grey uniform. She looked even better than her online profile. She quickly introduced herself and apologised for being late. "Don't worry, you'll be making that up to me later" I promised as I slowly looked her up and down. Her St Catherine's summer dress hugged her teenage body in the afternoon sunlight and her sweet, shy face looked up at me expectantly. I noted the sky blue ribbon tied in her hair and her matching coloured ankle socks. I sucked in a little gulp of afternoon air in anticipation of the heady few hours I had in store for us. Did she really not know that I was about to fully use her body?
Smiling, I ushered her inside and told her of the 'tasks' she was to do: "dusting, cleaning and ... a bit of relaxation later on." She seemed a little unsure but nodded her agreement when I told her how wonderful it was to get some help around the house.
Before we got into the tasks, I sat her down on the couch and asked her if she'd like something to drink. "Yes, please" she said politely, "Do you have a diet cola?" I turned the tv off and grabbed a cold can of diet cola and another bottle of beer for me from the fridge. She seemed to relax a bit while she sipped on her drink, so I attempted some small talk with her.
She confirmed that she had just turned 18 and that this was her first assignment with the new school community program. She admitted that she had been a bit nervous to come to a stranger's house by herself but I seem nice, the house is beautiful and she assumed that the school had thoroughly vetted me. What misplaced faith! She still didn't have the slightest understanding of what was in store for her this afternoon.
Drinks and the small talk finished, I led her into my home library to start on the first task.
She was very impressed with the large collection of leather bound books and the rich smell of mahogany. "Here you go" I said as I handed her a feather duster. She nodded and carefully climbed up the ladder, hooked against a rail at the top of the book shelves. She tried her best and proved pretty good at reaching all the high shelves and the tops of the books. One of her arms stretched out with the duster, while her other hand grasped the top of the ladder. I stood underneath, of course, firmly holding the bottom of the old ladder to steady it while she worked above.
Head tilted up, my eyes drank in the sight of her teenage body moving under her dress.
Her white cotton underpants neatly covered her tight, young pussy and arse. Around the edge of her briefs I could see that her pubes were nicely trimmed, although obviously not bald. Something we would need to sort out a little later on, I thought to myself with a grin.
I tried as casually as possible to ask her about boyfriends and her experiences in this general area. She was quite shy and didn't want to talk about this at all - but I told her that this was part of the voluntary service and the school said I could have her do anything for the hours I had booked.
She bit her puffy lip and thought about how much she needed that special credit awarded for this work. So, with her mind resolved, she relented and told me that she didn't have a boyfriend. Actually, she confided shyly, "I've never ... really ... had a boyfriend at all" and that she'd only ever kissed a handful of clumsy teenage boys at a few boozy parties she'd been to.
Still a virgin! Incredible! Oh, how lucky was I to score this tender little helper in her cute school uniform for the afternoon. Virgin for not much longer!! I thought.
We finished in the library and moved through the house to the next task in the bathroom.