It was raining outside - a typical Amsterdam spring day with heavy grey cloud casting a chill gloom upon the city. A Little natural light was managing to find its way through the dirty, rain spattered windows as they rattled in their frames, carrying with it the luminous presence from the spring leaves on the trees outside that lined the canal. Inside, the room was cool almost cold: the old cast-iron radiators beneath each window giving out only enough heat to take the edge from the day.
I studied the room feeling another thrill of anticipation run through me. It was a classic classroom with bare wooden floorboards and faded cream paint on the walls, the front of the room was dominated by a large blackboard with 'Welcome to St Mary's, class of 2007' written in large chalk letters - the writing sloped down to the left as if the writer was unused to a blackboard. The chalk continued to scratch, spelling out a line beneath the first. 'Miss Megan.'
The writer turned towards her class of mostly empty desks and tapped a ruler against her palm. She made a striking figure in a long flowing black cloak that offered tantalising glimpses of black corset, stockings and heels as she moved. As she placed a hand on her hip, the cloak fell open displaying a tanned chest and breasts forced up by the corset, nipples barely concealed by a soft lace trim. For a moment, she allowed us to admire her - the long stocking clad legs, suspenders lying taught against warm, tanned thighs - the corset, satin and very expensive - Miss Megan was truly stunning. Long dark hair gathered in a classic schoolteachers'bun and beautifully made-up face with deep red lipstick and heavily applied black eyeliner presented us with a teacher to adore.
There were three of us sitting at separate desks in front of her, writing pads and pencils in front of us like good schoolgirls - good and very nervous schoolgirls.
We had never spoken. In fact, we barely knew each other beyond chatting on the internet. For me, laughing, giggling and flirting with other women was a wonderful distraction from the reality of my working day in a bank. I had found two other women that loved someone controlling them as much as I did, and we would chat, flirt and say outrageous things in the security and privacy of our own computer screens. But then I had introduced them, via the chat site, to Mistress Megan, a very special person that had shown me a world of incredible pleasure. A day after I had introduced them, we were talking excitedly about the invitation each of us had received - an invitation to a weeks summer class with 'Miss Megan' where strict school code would apply.
I wondered again at what that last part of the invitation had meant. Of course, I knew how Mistress Megan liked to play. She had instructed me to dress in school uniform several times before and teased and embarrassed me ... but the other two girls were basically strangers to me and I felt incredibly self conscious sitting here dressed as I was - I wished again that I had worn a cardigan or something, it really was chilly.
I love wearing a school uniform. The first time Mistress Megan had told me to dress up in one and play the part of a shy schoolgirl I had thought she was joking. I wore a uniform like this for several years at school in England, but I'm 28 now so that had been some time ago. I remember telling her I would wear anything she asked ... do anything she asked. I wanted to please her desperately and had in mind lacy, revealing lingerie, but no, she wanted me to dress in school uniform and so I had done so ... and now it was my favourite thing to wear. It's funny really. I could wear expensive, silky or lacy things with stockings and heels, and feel incredible ... but I wouldn't feel as naughty and sexy as when I was wearing a sexy school uniform.
I glanced down at the skirt I had chosen for today, red plaid that I had frayed and torn it at the hem so that it was little more than a rag barely covering my bottom. When I was sitting, it fell away to the side exposing my legs to my upper hip. It had looked incredibly sexy in the mirror when I tried it on for the first time in my apartment, but now I thought maybe I had gone a bit too far - it screamed slut and I was incredibly nervous. Maybe I should have worn something a little less provocative. I changed my position on the hard wooden chair and waited for class to begin, wondering what she had in mind. The two other girls were fidgeting, waiting for Miss Megan to say something. They were undoubtedly as nervous and embarrassed as I was, probably more - at least I knew Miss Megan.
My legs felt cold. I had tried on stockings - black with a suspender belt firstly, and then a white Pair of hold-ups, but I had finally opted to wear little white socks and black heels on my first day of summer school. I should have worn the long grey socks, they looked and felt sexy and would at least have kept me warm. I had bought a new white blouse with short sleeves and a red and white striped school tie to match the skirt. I knew my lacy black bra was showing through the blouse and the matching knickers were small and uncomfortable ... but in a nice way - I liked the feeling of them cutting up between the cheeks of my bottom ...they felt suitably naughty for the occasion.
Mistress Megan brought the ruler down hard on her desk, startling me out of my reverie. I sat up and twiddled my pigtails, straightening the red ribbons tied into the ends, genuinely quite nervous of what was to happen.
'Welcome to St Mary's, girls. My name, as you can see from the board, is Miss Megan. For the duration of your stay, you will address me as Miss Megan. Do you understand?'
'Yes Miss Megan,'we chimed together.
'Very good, girls. I am sure that you're aware of why you are here, but I will remind you anyway. You have all shown yourselves to be a disruptive influence in your own schools, and your teachers have all but given up on you. This is your last stop. Unless you graduate from St Mary's, you'll be expelled from the British education system. Therefore, I cannot emphasise strongly enough how important it is for each of you to do exactly as you are told during your stay here. This is possibly your last chance. You are here to learn obedience. My teaching practise may seem extreme at times but never...and I mean never refuse me ... do I make myself clear?'
'Yes Miss Megan,'we each replied warily.
'Very good, girls. Should you, at any time become uncomfortable and wish to leave the class, you need only say, 'expel me.' If you choose to do so, however, be warned - whatever activity we are engaged in will immediately cease, but you will then leave this classroom, leave the city, and never come back. If you say 'expel me,' it is a final wish to quit ... to be expelled ... there will be no going back if you say it but the opportunity will always exist for you. Do you all understand, girls?'
'Yes, Miss Megan.'
'Good.' Miss Megan sat on her desk and crossed her legs, the cloak falling away to the sides. 'I know that two of you are new to St Mary's. Joanne ... Anna, please stand.'
I watched as the two girls stood up, the wooden chairs scraping noisy on the bare-wood floor as they pushed them back. They both waited, hands folded in front of them, eyes held downcast, for Miss Megan to continue - at least, I considered, they looked as embarrassed as I felt.
Anna was the youngest. She appeared to be about eighteen, long blond hair, very attractive and was fighting to conceal an almost constant smile. I instinctively liked her. Her skirt was blue and green tartan plaid, pleated and only just long enough to cover her bottom. She wore long, grey socks held up with blue ribbons that were very pretty with black heels. The other girl, Joanne was also very pretty. She was a little closer to my age, with light shoulder-length brown hair and had a blush of embarrassment colouring her cheeks. Both had very nice figures - I looked forward to getting to knowing them both better.
Standing up, Miss Megan walked forward and stroked the ruler down Joanne's front, slowly following the outline of her breasts, and then hooked it beneath her skirt and gently lifted it. Joanne didn't move, but the blush became deeper and she swayed on her four inch heels. I could see that her black, seamed stockings were attached to a suspender belt and that she had deliciously long legs. I felt my nipples harden and crossed my legs as I watched her discomfort.
'Please .. don't ... I'm...'
'Shhh ...' Miss Megan reached forward and laid a finger against Joanne's lips. 'Good morning, Joanne. Welcome to St Mary's.'
'Good morning Mistress, thank you for inviting me,' replied Joanne in a whisper.
'Sit down.' Joanne Sat, a look of relief crossing her face, and Mistress Megan moved across to Anna.
'Good morning, Anna. Welcome to St Mary's.'
'Good morning, Miss Megan.'
Miss Megan's ruler lifted Anna's chin and turned her head from side to side. 'A little more eye make-up tomorrow, Anna.'
