The Good Housemaster

The Good Housemaster

Chapter Two

The house is tidy now, and I have a few bottles of wine chilling. With several hours left before everyone is expected, I sit down and run a finger on the edge of the red card. Letting my mind drift, it's almost like I could feel the chill from that Halloween night. The night so many things started to change.

I had kept my promise. Wastrope was extremely concerned after Penelope and I reported in. He immediately went to check on the proceedings, and we followed, of course. Not that he found anything too inappropriate. They were typical college kids at the end of the 60's after all. After a little back and forth about Amelia, he left and went to notify Headmaster Sherman. Several days later, I had found out through the grapevine that Brown had been reprimanded, but for what I was not sure. More importantly, Wastrope would be paying more attention to Amelia from now on. In the end, that was what Ms. Pritchard and I really wanted.

Things seemed to settle down over the next few weeks now that Penelope and I had smoothed things over. Brown gave me the cold shoulder for a while, but then became more like his enigmatic self as the exams were closing in. It almost became a pleasure to sit in on the weekly staff meetings...

* * *

"Is everyone prepared for exam week?" Headmaster Sherman asks all of us in the conference room. "I want to be sure there is one last opportunity for tutoring tonight and tomorrow. All doors are open; am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," we all respond with mixed enthusiasm. Everyone needs a rest, and Christmas break couldn't come soon enough.

"Has everyone turned in their tests to Ms. Pritchard?" We all nod in affirmative, knowing she would keep them safe until Monday. He smiles tiredly. "Fine then. One more push, everyone. Any questions?"

There are none, and with that, we file out into the hallway, heading to our respective classrooms or offices. Rounding the corner, I find nearly twenty young ladies queuing up near my door. "Are you all here for tutoring?" They all nod, so I open the room. "Might as well teach a class if this keeps up."

The bespectacled Miss Akins frowns. "But I do need help, sir. I was hoping for some time, um, one on one." She glances at all the other women.

"Sorry." I stride to my desk. "The best I can do is have all of you come up here within the next hour before dinner." I turn to everyone as they begin to sit. "You can move the desks if you have a study group. This time is informal..." The door opens and I smile. It's Miss Pritchard.

"Sorry, sir. May I join you?"

"Of course! Find a seat."

The tall lady looks around and sees Miss Akins and White waving her over. She smiles wanly and, with little effort, lifts a desk and chair over to them. I do a double take. How strong is she? I know she's practicing for the house team, but this is ridiculous! Seeing her getting situated, I relax. With Wastrope and Ms. Pritchard working together, the young woman is finally getting serious about her studies. Hopefully, she will use this time to her maximum benefit.

Several of the women start whispering among themselves as one by one each of them sits by me with their questions. Soon I realize that these were rather routine problems, and it takes me only a moment to explain things. Others; not even that much. "Miss White. I know we covered this two days ago."

The husky girl appears contrite. Lauren pushes at one of her tight brunette curls as she looks down at the page. "Yes, sir. I'm just not sure in this instance we would use this conjugation." She leans over me, pointing at the sentence in question. Her hand touches the paper, and suddenly it slides away. Overbalanced, she tumbles face-first, and I reach out instinctively as the heavy-set student almost falls right over me. I try to stand, but find she's nearly dead weight and collapses belly first onto my lap. Hearing a gasp, I struggle to raise her off me.

The entire class is now staring at the spectacle Lauren has made of herself. Her plump backside is directly below me, and she squirms trying to get some purchase on my armless chair. I cringe as her surprisingly firm belly is now in direct contact with my crotch! She keeps moving back and forth almost spasmodically. "Miss White! Stop and let me help you!"

It's no use as she continues to move back and forth, but I don't want to just shove her to the floor. She must have had the wind knocked out of her or something. The first-year begins to jerk, and I see a leg kick upward. To my horror, her dress flies up with it, and I now can see half of her knicker-clad bottom right below me! I stop trying to support her and push the dress back down, accidentally making contact with one of her squirming cheeks. Even that casual contact causes my student to stiffen, and suddenly she lets out a muffled cry.

"I'm sorry, but you must get control of yourself!"

Lauren is now shaking below me, and my concern begins to turn into fear. Is she having some kind of fit? Grasping her waist firmly, I try to hold her so that she doesn't fall. Her body grows taught at my touch, and she emits one last low moan. A moment later, she sighs and collapses into a heap.

What just happened? Did she faint away? I finally get my arms around her shoulders and slowly lift the young lady. As we finally get separated, I stand up to check on her. There are several snickers from the room. "This is not funny! She might be seriously hurt! Are you all right, Miss White?"

"I; uhhh, that was..." She's out of breath and appears quite flushed. Then the student brushes several curls out of her face. "Blimey!"

There are a few snorts from the class, but I ignore them. "If you're not hurt, then do you wish to go over the problem again?"

"Oh, no, sir. I... I have to get out of here..." She backs toward the door. "Sorry, sir!"

"Miss White..." But the young lady grabs her books and bolts out.

Miss Akins jumps up and starts for the door. "I should see if she's okay." With one last long look through her glasses at me, she quickly follows, leaving the whole classroom laughing behind her. I have a strong feeling that I was just had in some way.

"What's going on in here?!" Penelope is now at my door, staring in. "I can hear you three doors down!" The ladies all quiet down quickly as the stern, middle-aged professor gives them a withering stare.

"Hello, Ms. Pritchard. That's what I'm about to find out. Are any of you here to study seriously? I can assure you that if you're not, then I'll require you to be back right after breakfast for tutoring all morning!"

Several ladies glance at each other and then stand. One by one, they start leaving. A few have the presence of mind to apologize. As the last depart, I'm left with Amelia.

The blond daughter of Penelope looks at her papers. "I really do need help, sir."

Blowing my breath out to calm myself, I nod. "Of course, Miss Pritchard. What would you like to cover?"

The assistant moves a chair. "May I join you? All of the tests are stored."

"Of course, Ms. Pritchard. Miss P..."

"It would be simpler if you would call me Penelope. At least with just the three of us here."

I see Amelia's eyebrows ratchet up a notch, but she says nothing. "Alright then; Penelope. Let's begin, Miss Pritchard."

I let Amelia start with a few questions and get a feel for what chapters she needs the most help with. The tall blonde is quite stressed, with only four days left in the term. I patiently explain each topic, and after thirty minutes, she doesn't look quite as worried anymore. All too soon, it's supper time.

"That will do for now. I want you to work on editing your final draft tonight."

"Yes, sir," the tall blond says as she stretches. "It's gonna be a long night."

"Going to be," Penelope corrects her. "And then be ready to study in the late afternoon tomorrow. Before supper?"

I nod. "That should be fine. You're coming a long way, Miss Pritchard. Now go eat and be ready for tomorrow." I close up the room, and Amelia heads for her house to put her books away. I finish locking the door and find Penelope waiting.

"You really are talented at explaining your subject, Professor Wright."

"For my first year, right?" We begin walking towards the Main Hall.

"Don't sell yourself short. You just need to keep certain ladies from taking advantage of your; laissez-faire mode. Threatening them with what in effect would be detention is a good start."

"What of Miss White? The way she was..." I clam up as I realize how embarrassed I am.

Penelope looks at me sideways. "What WAS she doing, Professor?"

"She had fallen on top of me accidentally. At first, I thought she had hurt herself. Then..." I think back for a moment. "It was like she lost all control. She embarrassed both me and herself."

"Embarrassed? That doesn't sound appropriate." Penelope thinks for a moment. "Care for some advice?"

"From you? Always."

Her face cracks a bit. Was that a smile? "Well; the lady in question has been slacking off in my Phys. Ed. course since she started lacrosse. If you would take your concern to Wastrope, I can manage a very exhausting regimen for the girl."

"Using subterfuge like Brown? Didn't we just fight for that to stop?"

"It won't be underhanded, Professor Wright. You will go to Wastrope with your complaint. He will pull the young lady into his office, and you will suggest the punishment. Very straightforward, n'est pas?"

"Comme toujours, madame. After dinner?"

The serious looking woman arches an eyebrow. "So forward, Professor?"

"I'm sorry..."

"You really can't read people," she says, chuckling. "Everything isn't just face value, you know."

I nod my head as we enter the hall. Oh boy, do I now. It's as if all three of us are avoiding the elephant in the room. What happened at the party. My reaction to Penelope. The first day. However, until one of them brings it up again, I will keep my peace. At least until it rears its head again.

Quickly picking up our plates from the staff line, we sit down across from each other. Digging into my stew, I couldn't get what had happened earlier out of my head. Was my student; rubbing herself on me? If that were true, then she did deserve some punishment. I look up at Penelope and become curious about her idea. "What will you do with Miss White, if I may ask?"

"Oh, I'll lead her through some routines. Running. Jump rope. That sort of thing. I'll be leading by example, of course."

"You can keep up with a nineteen-year-old?" Her birthday was earlier last week.

"Yes, Professor. I make it a point of pride that I can outwork and outlast these much younger students."

The older woman smiles, and I could just see a few faint lines around the eyes. Her skin is nearly flawless, and I realize that she could easily pass for thirty. How young was she when she had Amelia? "My apologizes. I should have known that you would take your health seriously. I'm barely twenty-four and would probably be outmatched by you in a workout."

"Possibly." She tilts her head. "I wonder..."

"Ms. Pritchard?" I can tell she's thinking about something.

Her pale eyes refocus on me, and she shifts in her seat. "Never mind. Any plans for the holiday?"

I shrug. "I'll go see my parents up north for a few days. Then, come back here to get ready. There's a lot of literature I need to catch up on. The second semester will..."

"I have nowhere to go, really."

I realize I'm being somehow insensitive. "I'm sorry. You have no other family?"

Penelope picks up a carrot and starts to nibble on it. "Just Amelia. My father died in the Blitz, so mother sent me to the country to wait it out. It was a nice place near York. Full of gardens and places to wander. That summer, she disappeared."

"My God..." I put my fork down. "How?"

"I don't know. The Home Guard reported several deaths near my old home in London, but they never located her." She shakes her head. "Anyway, the Barnaby's were so nice..."

My eyes widen. "Barnaby? Doctor Edward Barnaby?"

"Eddie? You know him?"

"He was my boss at Princeton!"

Penelope smiles. "Well, he was a younger man then. I was only ten. His parents took me in and cared for me until I finished school."

I sit back in my chair. "Wow! Of all the coincidences. I'll have to give him a ring and tell him where you are."

"No need. I was introduced to Brown by Eddie several years ago. His reference allowed me to get this position, and our family moved nearby shortly afterwards. How did you get to know him?"

"I was top in one of his classes. After he found out I wanted to teach, he pushed me into completing my Masters in Education. When I'd finished, I began to wonder, though. He stuck me in a room, sorting old documents and reference cards. I hardly saw anyone all day."

"So, no gallivanting around campus for you?" Penelope asks.

"Mmmm, no. I was a bookworm dedicated to my work and almost became a hermit."

"A hermit teacher." She smirks. "I hope you won't go back in your hole, Professor."

"Never, Ms. Pritchard. I enjoy our conversations too much."

Her smile grows, and the blonde waves her fork at me. "Now, Professor..."

"Ms. Pritchard?" It's Housemaster Brown. Where did he come from? "Professor Wright. Am I interrupting anything?"

Penelope's expression cools. "No, Housemaster. Is there something we can do for you?"

"Headmaster Sherman requires your assistance. We are having the rules and codes meeting for next semester."

Penelope sighs. "Of course. Let him know I'll be there as soon as possible."

I grimace. "Duty calls, I guess. Breakfast then?"

The fair woman rises, and her nod is more than courteous. "Absolutely, Professor. I'm looking forward to it."

I sit back as Penelope follows Brown out of the Main Hall. I catch myself staring after her, and I look down at my plate before anyone notices.

* * *

Between the few remaining tutorials and a meeting with Housemaster Wastrope, the rest of the evening passes pretty quickly. As I lay down, my thoughts continue to dwell on Miss White. Ms. Pritchard obviously thought what she did wasn't so innocent as I initially thought. Why would my student do that? Were they having a laugh at me? Getting very frustrated, I punch the pillow and close my eyes. It didn't help that as I lay there, my head feels strange. Almost like; I have pressure building up at the back of my skull. Eventually I begin to doze, and my mind floats into a fitful sleep...

...I'm back at the storage room in Cambridge. Look at all of the books and reference cards. Days of work. Weeks even. No complications. No interruptions. I start to relax as I pick up a folder. It's Amelia Pritchard's admissions packet.

"Sir?" To my surprise, the young lady is standing on the large table in her uniform, looking down at me. "What am I doing here?"

"You are here to be assessed, Miss Pritchard." That rich, cultured voice. Just like at the party. "Please stand at attention."

"Sir?" The tall blonde was about to step down, but now she freezes. "Professor Wright, where am I?"

"You are dreaming, Pritchard. Now stand at attention. You remember how to do that at least."

The pale blond lady keeps looking around, mystified. "This is so weird."

"I said attention!"

I shiver. The voice had become ugly. It's deeper. More commanding. Amelia immediately stands upright with her hands at her sides. I scan the room, but no one else is here. Yet, there is something...

"So, Alan, what are we to do with you?"

I grow wary. "Who is this? What do you want?"

The voice laughs. "You're so clueless. Well, not completely. I can't blame you for your lack of sex drive. It happens to the best of us."

This dream is getting, as Amelia stated; really weird. "Sex? What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's the whole thing, really. At least for us. I've put her on a platter. You have to just take advantage of the situation."

I'm appalled. "How could a teacher even...!"

"You have felt it when you touch. You know that connection can only happen between the two of you."

"How do you know...?"

"Don't, sir!" Amelia is looking very uncomfortable now.

"This is your dream. Why shouldn't I know everything?"

I begin to wonder. No dream was ever like this. Is this my deep subconscious talking? "Take Amelia?" I scowl. "I would never harm a student. Ever."

"Harm? If you would only pursue this. Get closer. You will both find yourselves most willing. Can't you see she's attracted to you?"

I look up and see Amelia shaking her head. "No. Not in that way." Her cheeks color just as she says it.

"Ahh. She is so confused. Blossoming into full adulthood, but finding herself apart. Not able to partake in the pleasures that others seem to feel. Except with you."

Suddenly, I feel the draw again. Something in Amelia. I can sense her fighting it. I do as well.

"Intoxicating, isn't it? How can each of you resist? Be your honest selves and understand your true power."

"Power? What power?!" My mind is getting muddled. I look up and see her eyes fixed on mine. The young woman's cheeks are completely flushed now. I blink as her hand moves towards her top button. Just as Amelia's fingers reach for it, she seems to become aware of what she is doing and jerks it back to her side.

"So repressed both of you." A deep chuckle. "Why don't I help you two loosen up, as the hip say today?"

Now I know something's absolutely wrong. There is no way I would conjure a phrase like that. And yet, a warmth is gathering inside me. It's getting very hard to ignore. I begin to try to walk away. To wake up. To do anything!

"There's no reason to fight it."

Why can't I wake up? Dammit! Why am I getting hard again in front of Amelia? It's not like before, when we were touching. This feels so base. So dirty. I think I know why. "Get out of my head!"

"I'm your id. You can't deny me here."

I feel a tingling sensation run up and down the front of my stiffening member, even though it's still in my pants. "What is this?"

"You are doing it to each other. Just look at her."

I do so and see the fair eighteen year old's cheeks are starting to flush. In fact, she's starting to breathe unsteadily. "Sir...?" The young woman begins to stare at my crotch with widening eyes. Then, impossibly, the two large buttons of her school dress coat unhook by themselves, and the garment is roughly pulled down off her shoulders. Amelia's arms start to move in an effort to pull it back up, but then return firmly to her sides. The coat falls to the table she's standing on.

"Your subconscious gave her that instruction. She will do as you desire."

"No..." I struggle with the stroking sensation I'm feeling around my cock. "I don't want this..."

"Your feelings for her are why this is continuing."

"Professor?!"

I look up, and something's happening to Amelia's blouse. The collar pops open as the top button at her neck falls to the table. The girl stares down in shock as, one by one, they all begin springing away. Again, she doesn't seem to be able to move before the blouse is somehow drawn open in front of me. Her plain, white bra is revealed, and I see her blush has spread to the top of her chest.

"Oh, sir... Why am I...?"

She's feeling the same thing as I am! I have to wake up. Everything in my brain is telling me this is wrong, and yet my body continues to betray me. I have to focus. If I can get control of myself. Amelia finally moves a bit. It's working. Maybe we can do this together. Then I see one of her hands shoot up to her mouth to cover a shuddering gasp. The other... Oh, no. The other trembles; and then reaches to cover where her bra is. Not in shame or modesty, though. My student gives her b-cup a squeeze right before my eyes, and she moans softly. "Miss Pritchard... You can't..." I'm trying. I really am. I struggle to rip my eyes away from; her pliant skin. The hand pushes under the plain cotton. There's a louder moan. Oh, God! She's lifting it up!