St. Searle's Academy: The New Class - Part 4 free porn video

Formerly father and son, now identical twins, teenage sisters Jennifer and Jessica arrive at St. Searle's Academy for Young Ladies.... ST. SEARLE'S ACADEMY: THE NEW CLASS - part 4 by BobH (c) 2017 - 7 - Sitting in the back of the black London taxi carrying them from the clinic to St. Searle's Academy for Young Ladies, the boarding school that would be their home for the next four years, Jessica Smith stared down at her legs. Bare save for her white knee socks and her black Mary Jane shoes, they emerged from under her short, red tartan skirt and were totally alien to her, limbs that should belong to someone else. She had been a man of fifty, a powerful entrepreneur whose natural habitat was the boardroom and whose ruthless business dealings had made him both feared and respected. That man had dressed in three thousand dollar suits and been large and imposing, but she wasn't him anymore. Now she was a small, skinny, fourteen year old girl who looked even younger, and in place of a business suit she was wearing a schoolgirl's uniform. It was a lot to take in. Hardest of all to take in was that two hours ago one of the legs she was staring at had been gone, blown off in the explosion that had left her in critical condition. Virginia Chapford had just shown Jennifer and her the grisly photos taken of their broken bodies to leave them in no doubt they had been dying. She felt her hands beginning to tremble and knew the delayed shock Abigail had warned her of was about to descend on her. If she let it. She couldn't, she wouldn't. Maybe later, when she was lying in her bed, but not now. She needed to be strong for Jennifer. She became dimly aware that Jennifer was speaking. "If you have the means to save people the way you did us, don't you have an obligation to save others, too?" she asked. "No. If people learned that magic was real there would be panic," replied Virginia. "It would do more harm than good." The twins were sitting in the pull-down seats built into the partition between driver and passengers, while Virginia faced them from the rear seat. "So what's the deal with this school, anyway?" asked Jessica. "You said everyone in it is a criminal and used to be male?" "Correct. You two are exceptions. Abigail pulled rank and insisted I use the figurine to save you. Fortunately, you were close enough to the school for that to be possible. No pupil can tell another about her past, but it would probably be prudent to let the other girls think you came to us via the Federal Witness Protection Program, too. And you definitely don't want them to know that Senator Abigail Carson is your aunt until after she officially becomes your legal guardian." "Our aunt," murmured Jennifer. "That's going to take some getting used to." "Did she ask you about my company?" asked Jessica. "She did." "And...?" "Since the circumstances behind you becoming pupils at St. Searle's are highly unusual, I agreed. You will be allowed to work on your business interests remotely via computer for one hour a day." "Ah hour? That's not much." "On top of your academic studies it will be plenty. I've told Abigail that's all I can give you so that when Carla Mendez contacts you each day you'll be making decisions on only the most urgent and important matters. Others will have to handle the routine, day-to-day stuff for you. You're supposed to be dead, remember, so they would be doing so anyway." "It boggles me that Carla is another ex-pupil of St.Searle's, but I accept that's why it has to be her. She's the only one who can be allowed to know what happened to me. Abbie now controls my voting stock and she'll use it to ensure Carla gets voted in as the new CEO of Carson Industries. That's going to put several noses out of joint among the other, more senior board members, but they'll have to learn to live with it." "It's a shame Abbie can't be the one who you deal with, but I understand her position as a senator makes that impossible." "Yeah, she's not on any committees whose remit would affect my company operations, and she always recuses herself from any votes where there's a conflict of interest, but she'd fall foul of the Office of Government Ethics if she actually tried taking control of the company. No, as soon as she's cast her vote for Carla, she has to step back." "Agreed," said Virginia. "Ah, we're here." Jessica hadn't been paying much attention to the countryside they were driving through, but she looked out of the window as they passed through the school gates, surprised to see the window glass had been made tinted at some point on their journey so that no one could see in. In the grounds, as they drove up to the main building, a hockey match was in progress with one team wearing red jerseys and the other blue. "We don't play other schools at sports," said Virginia, "so all our games are internal competitions. Every girl is placed in one of three houses - Curie, Sanger and Pankhurst, whose colours are red, yellow, and blue respectively - and they compete for the various trophies each year. However, the biggest and most prestigious trophy they compete for is the one given for the winning the spring fashion show. The models are usually fourth years, but anyone in any house who has the talent can be a designer." The car pulled up in front the multi-car garage attached to the western end the school building, which looked to have been an impressive mansion at some point. Their driver John Thompson had chosen the door immediately adjacent to the mansion. He pressed a button on his dash, and the door slowly opened. They drove in, the door automatically lowering itself behind them. Jessica noted with interest that this bay was walled off from the rest of the garage, though there was a door on the left that clearly gave access to it. "Follow me," said Virginia. They got out and entered the school through the door on the right. Passing through a nondescript anteroom, they entered a room that was all old wooden panelling and ancient oil paintings. Virginia seated herself in the high-backed leather chair situated behind a large and impressively solid desk, and indicated they should take the chairs in front of that desk. "My office," she said. "I'll have someone take you to your room and explain how we do things at this school. We're already two weeks into the academic year so the two of you have a little catching up to do." She pressed a button on the intercom on her desk and spoke into the mic. "Will Lucy Costello please come the headmistress's office immediately." This done she reached into her desk and pulled out a number of red ribbons, handing them two each. "Miss Costello will show you what these are for," she said. A few minutes later there was a knock on the other door to the office than the one they had used. "Come in," said Abigail. Lucy Costello entered and curtseyed to Miss Chapford. She was small and pretty (but then weren't they all?), her long dark hair braided into pigtails with a red ribbon tied into a bow at the end of each one. "You wanted to see me, headmistress?" "Yes, Lucy. This is Jessica and Jenifer Smith. I want you to show them the ropes like Kathy Cardinelli did you, then take them to their room and instruct them in how to braid their hair. That will be all." "Yes, Miss Chapford," she said, giving another curtsey. "Follow me please, girls" In the corridor outside she stopped and turned to face them. "Two weeks ago I was you, newly transformed into a teenage girl and pretty overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. I'll try to make this as painless as I can." "Thank you," said Jessica, "we appreciate it." Lucy then proceeded to show them all around the main building, explaining the areas they were and weren't allowed in, where things could be found, and such history of the school as she had managed to pick up so far. "So Miss Chapford doesn't age?" said Jennifer. "More magic! Does anyone know how old she really is?" "That's not information she's ever shared with any pupils, alas. Unlike her we do age, and we do grow. We all have monthly appointments with the school nurse, who weighs and measures us and we get new clothing issued as we get bigger. On your first visit she'll also tell you all about the joys of menstruation and show you how to insert tampons. You'll find them in dispensers in the bathrooms." "Tampons!" said Jenny, horrified. "I forgot that part about being female!" Jessica looked thoughtful. "Have you...?" "Last week," said Lucy. "Not something I want to talk about, but at least I'll know what to expect in the future. It's something we'll all have to put up with every month for the next few decades of our lives." "Oh, joy." "OK, so other stuff you need to know... Shondra Prentis is this year's head girl - which means she's in charge of the hall monitors or prefects as they call them here - and her girlfriend Laura Cole is deputy head girl. Their appointments were announced after breakfast on the first day of the academic year. They're also porn stars." "Say what?" "The school encourages everyone to earn money by any legal means they choose, and takes fifty percent. An internet sex show is one of those businesses with Shondra and Laura using make up and various facial prosthetics to disguise their features. It's a business that those running it in each fourth year pass down to someone in the next when they graduate." "How does letting girls work on a porn show fit with turning out young ladies?" asked Jessica. "What happens in school stays in school," said Lucy. "Money brought in from outside like that circulates through the school's internal economy. Again, as long as it's all legal and they get their cut, the school turns a blind eye to most of that activity." "So it's only fourth years that make porn?" said Jennifer. "Of course. We may all range from our twenties to maybe our seventies in actuality, but physically - and legally, as per our new identities - most of us are underage, and we don't want to encourage paedophiles. For these purposes our real ages don't matter, only our apparent physical ones. I mean even looking outside the school, is a paedo going to be turned on by photos of someone twelve years old who looks twenty, or someone twenty who looks twelve? It's going to be the latter, right?" "I see your point," said Jennifer. "Other money-making enterprises include the school still. They set it up in the chemistry lad every day after classes are over and have it going all night. The stuff it produces is sold as premium vodka. It's apparently very good, but since school rules forbid the drinking of alcohol I've never tried it." "Why is the school so interested in 'money-making enterprises'?" asked Jessica. "Given that people are delivered to us by the FBI, presumably the place is officially sanctioned at some level and so gets a budget of some sort. Since they'd want to keep the school secret I imagine it's a black budget, but they're hardly going to under-resource the place." "Air America," said Lucy. "Sorry? I don't understand." "It's the most popular theory among the girls. In the mid-sixties Richard Helms, who was then director of the CIA asked one of his subordinates how many aircraft they owned. He thought this was a simple question, but it was three months before he had his answer. It took that long to research, and when they got back to him he was shown a map of the world dotted with hundreds of pins and told about the dozens of airlines and hundreds of planes the CIA owned. Because they generated a profit and so were self- financing, these airlines didn't show up on any CIA budgets and so were able to operate largely without oversight. That's what we think is happening with the school. The more it generates its own funds and the more generous the donations it gets from ex-pupils - the school Ferrari was a gift from one of them - the less it needs to worry about oversight and the more it can follow its own agenda, whatever that is." "That...actually makes sense," said Jessica. "This is one very strange school," said her sister. "You have no idea," said Lucy, "but before this day is over you will. OK, time to take you to your room." - 8 - "They know you need time alone when you first get here to absorb what's happened to you so they don't expect you to go down to dinner, hence the sandwiches on top of your drawers," said Lucy, after showing them everything in their room. "Any questions?" "No cell-phones?" said Jennifer, appalled. "What century is this?" "They don't stop you having one if you've got the money to pay for them, but they mustn't contain cameras," said Lucy, "since photography isn't allowed within the school grounds. We're also not allowed to take phones into class with us so there's no point carrying them during the day, and it's not as if we're allowed to contact anyone from our old lives, so they're not much use to most of us after class. Older girls who want to keep in touch with friends who've graduated or who have boyfriends tend to have them, but very few first years bother." On both beds was a small pile of magazines "What are these?" asked Jessica. "That's the last two week's worth of the teen magazines every girl gets issued with," said Lucy. "Are we expected to read them?" "You're not only expected to read them, but to absorb their contents. You'll be tested on your knowledge in Teen Culture class." "'Teen Culture'? You mean being able to name the members of every current boy band, be up on the latest teen celebrity gossip, and know what's happening on whatever TV shows teenage girls are obsessed with at the moment?" "That's exactly what I mean." "And we get tested on this as if it was an academic subject?" "For us it is. When we meet other teens, *real* teens, we have to appear like we belong to their age group. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it. Oh, and every evening a local radio station that broadcasts the music teenage girls are currently listening to will start blaring from the speaker over your door. At least the volume isn't high enough to interfere with your studies, which is good because you can't turn it off. The music is something else that gets covered in Teen Culture class." "I'd prefer to listen to Puccini while enjoying a Merlot," murmured Jessica. "Are there any other classes specific to us being teenage girls now?" asked Jennifer, ignoring her twin. "Oh yes. There's Fashion History, where they teach us the names of all the dizzying variety of items of women's clothing that exist, and of the styles and variations of each there have been down the years. And hairstyles. There's more to all that than you'd think. Then there's Deportment." "'Deportment'? Is that something we need?" "It is, and yeah I was dubious about it at first, too; we all were. Despite our transformations most of us start out carrying ourselves as if we we're still men. In Deportment classes we're taught how to sit demurely without 'manspreading' our legs, how to walk like a lady rather than swaggering along like a trucker, and feminine gestures to replace our masculine ones. It's embarrassing as heck at first, but they soon knock that out of you and get you to realise how important it is to get that stuff right. If you tried to do this by yourself you'd be far too 'swishy' at first; most guys would. They teach you to do these things right, then they're drilled into you relentlessly until they become second nature, something you do automatically without having to think about them. Or so I'm told. I've only got a few lessons under my belt so I'm not there yet. Elocution is included as part of Deportment class so that we'll talk like ladies, as well as move like them. It's only been two weeks but they've already improved my vocabulary." "How about make-up?" "We don't start make-up classes until we're second years, and we're not allowed to wear it until the following year. Now, as per Miss Chapford's instructions, I need to show you how to braid your hair into first year pigtails like mine. Do I have a volunteer?" The twins looked at each other, then Jessica shrugged and sat down at her desk/dressing table. "I guess that would be me," she said. "Watch carefully - you too, Jenny. You're both going to have to do this for yourselves every day you're first years." Lucy had been dealing her own hair long enough now to quickly and efficiently braid Jessica's hair into pigtails, tying a bow around the end of each with red ribbons. When she had finished, she stared at Jessica's reflection for a few seconds before snapping her fingers. "That's it!" she said. "What is?" "I've been trying to think who your faces reminded me of," said Lucy, "and I just realized who it is." "Who?" said Jennifer. "Barbie. You both have the face of a Barbie doll." "Omigod, you're right!" said Jessica. They had button noses, full lips, and large, startlingly blue eyes, that gave them perfect doll-like faces. Add in their long blonde hair, and the resemblance was unmistakeable. "If I spotted it other girls will too," said Lucy. "You know what that means, don't you?" "Everyone's going to call us the Barbie twins," said Jennifer, groaning. "You got it." "Do you think we'll develop the same body as her as we get older?" asked Jennifer, looking at her sister. "God, I hope not. With how super-skinny yet top-heavy she is that doll has got one weird figure." She let out a deep sigh. "I'd kill for a cigar about now," she said. "Yeah, a nice, long Cuban would be perfect," said Lucy, wistfully. "You're an afficionado of good cigars, too?" said Jessica, her curiosity piqued. "Well, I'm not sure I'd call myself an afficionado, but I always appreciated a fine Corona" "I preferred a Churchill myself. I like the extra length." "Romeo y Julieta?" "Of course, but they had to be genuine Cuban cigars and not from the Dominican Republic." "Oh definitely." Jennifer burst out laughing. "What?" said Jessica, irritated by this. "Sorry, but it's just so strange seeing two young girls, their hair in pigtails with bows on the end, reminiscing about their favourite cigars." "Unfortunately reminiscing about them is all we can do. You're allowed to smoke when you reach the fourth year, but only cigarettes. Cigars are 'unladylike', apparently. Right, that concludes the introduction to the school I was given on my first day, but there's more." "There is?" said Jennifer. "Yeah, now we get to the cool stuff, the stuff the rest of us first years got shown on the actual first day of school. Since you weren't here then I get to show you that too. Follow me." Lucy led them out of their room and down the hall the laundry chute at their end of the floor, stopping at the wooden panel beside it. "Looks like just another section of wall panelling, right?" The twins nodded, wondering where she was going with this. "Wrong. Just like the same panels next to the laundry chutes on every floor it's actually the door to a concealed cupboard, and the concealed catch is here." She activated the catch and the panel swung open. In the space behind it was a triple-level rack holding rows of Uzi sub machine guns. "Wow!" said Jennifer, eyes wide. "What...why?" "A precaution in case the school is ever attacked." "Is that likely?" asked Jessica. "Should we be concerned?" "Well the school never has been attacked, and I don't know who would attack it, but there are also sniper rifles in cabinets at the top of the stairs leading to the roof. As to whether we should be concerned or not, your guess is as good as mine. We're responsible for keeping the Uzis on our floor ready for action so once a week we each have to strip and clean one of them. And, yes, those who don't know how are shown by our weapons master, John Thompson." "So he's more than just a chauffeur, then?" "Much more. When Flash drives you he's not just your chauffeur but also your bodyguard. He's ex-special forces and carries concealed weapons at all times, but even without them he knows a lot of ways to disable or kill an attacker. He's been with St. Searle's three years. He replaced the guy who used to have his job, who was getting too old and needed to retire." "You said the teachers here are all ex-pupils, which makes sense, but he isn't. How would you go about recruiting a man like that to a place like this?" "Beats me," said Lucy, shrugging. Jennifer was concerned about the Uzis. "What's to stop a girl taking one of these and running amok?" she asked. "School rules," replied Lucy. "None of us can go against them thanks to the compulsion we're under. We can only use the Uzis if the attack siren goes off, so that's not something you need worry about. Now let's look at the laundry chute. Notice the button beside it. When you have laundry you need to press that button before dropping it down the chute. That signals the laundry hamper to move into position. Twenty seconds after the last item drops into it it will roll back out of the way." "To what purpose?" asked Jessica, sounding puzzled. "These aren't just laundry chutes. They're also escape chutes. They're large enough to take even fourth years and they have no vertical drops, so you can slide down them quite safely. Let's do that now. There's a bar to hold onto just inside up under the lip..." So saying she grabbed the bar, swung herself into the chute in a single fluid movement, then released it. The twins gave her five seconds then Jennifer swung in after her, followed five seconds later by Jessica. They shot out of the chute the other end at just the right speed to land on their feet, take a step forward, and stop. "Welcome to the basement," said Lucy. The twins looked around them, taking it in. They had emerged from the third of a line of six such chutes, each with a wheeled laundry hamper beside it. "Two chutes from each floor," said Lucy, "the bends and gradients arranged so whichever floor you start from you come out here at pretty much the same speed. The layout at this level is the same as above, essentially an 'E' shape with the middle leg longer than those on the two wings. To our left is the corridor containing the laundry. This leads to the west wing, which is a locked storage area. To our right is the corridor containing the kitchens. This leads to the east wing, which is also a locked storage area. Directly in front of us is the corridor in the middle leg of the ''E', the one that runs under the Great Hall. Let's explore it." They moved forward into the corridor. The entire left wall was glass. Beyond it lay an indoor shooting range, every lane occupied by a girl firing off some sort of firearm. "The school shooting gallery," said Lucy. "Just as well the glass is sound-proof or the noise would be deafening. You're allowed to come down here and practice as much as you want, which is a good thing since it takes time to learn to compensate for having a smaller body. The range is properly ventilated, of course, to carry away the lead particles. Behind the wall on the far side of the gallery is the school armoury. There's some major ordnance in there, too. As you can see, Flash Thompson is supervising, which is part of his job as the school weapons master." "I'm not sure he's doing much supervising at the moment," said Jennifer. "He seems more interested in that girl smiling up at him. Pantihose but no heels, so she's a third year, right?" "Yeah, that's Charlotte Kent. As the only guy here Flash gets a lot of female attention, but she's the only girl whose attention he returns." "Are they lovers?" asked Jessica, regarding the brown-haired beauty. "Some people think so, yeah, and that she secretly makes her way to that apartment he lives in over the garage most nights, but I don't. Officially she's only seventeen and won't turn eighteen 'til this time next year. Even though he knows she's actually older than that, Flash is the type who's too much of a boy scout to take advantage of her. Bet she wants to take advantage of him, though. There's no shortage of girls here who'd like to, given the chance." "What's she like?" asked Jennifer. "Pretty scary, actually. She carries herself like someone who could really mess you up if she wanted to. Kind of like Flash himself. Maybe that's the attraction. She's also the best shot in the school and one of a handful of girls assigned to those sniper rifles I told you about. OK, on the other side of the corridor we have the rooms where the special, after hours classes take place. Let's check one of them out, shall we?" Inside the room she chose a small group of girls from the various years, led by a teacher, had removed the outer casing of a very large and imposing bank vault door, one held upright in a substantial metal frame, and were studying the mechanisms within. They looked up as Lucy and the twins entered. "Hi, Lucy," said a red-haired first year, waving to her. "Hi Meaghan, Miss Crain; I'm just showing our new arrivals around like the headmistress asked me to." "What's going on here?" whispered Jennifer, as the group returned to their task. "That's Meghan Delaney, the first person here to make friends with me," said Lucy, "and they're trying to figure out the best way of cracking that door." "That's an Ingrams Mark 12 vault door," said Jessica, looking stunned. "They only came on the market three months ago. What the heck?" "We're told we can only use our criminal skills in service of the school and our country," said Lucy, "but those skills are only any good if you keep them up to date. Whenever a serious new safe or vault door comes on the market the school orders one through a respected third party. Then Miss Crain and those among us with safe-cracking skills take it apart and learn all its secrets." They walked further along the corridor. In the walls, just beyond the end of rooms on either side, were the mouths of two more chutes. "Escape chutes from the Great Hall," explained Lucy. "Their other ends are under the stage at the far end." While the rooms on either side had come to an end at what clearly corresponded to the back wall of the Great Hall above, the corridor continued, though narrower and with a lower ceiling. "Escape route," said Lucy. "Let's see where it comes out, shall we?" They walked what Jessica judged to be several hundred yards before coming to a wide ladder that led up to a trapdoor. Climbing these, they opened the trapdoor, and found themselves in the school stables, curious horses gazing down at them from adjacent stalls. "This stall is always kept empty of horses," said Lucy, closing the hatch. "Help me move straw back over the hatch to conceal it." This done, they headed out of the stable and took the footpath back to the school. On the way they passed the swimming pool where fourth years in skimpy bikinis were lying on recliners in the unseasonally warm mid- September sun, chatting to their friends or languidly smoking cigarettes, while younger girls splashed about in the water. "Wow, most of those fourth years look like models," said Jennifer, eyes wide. "If we have to be girls it's good the figurine makes us hot ones rather than ugly ones," said Lucy. "Amen to that," said Jennifer. Lucy took them back to their room in the main building and left them at the door. "I'll see you tomorrow on our morning run," she said, as she headed for her own room. "I'll introduce you to my roommate then, too." Alone at last, the twins sat down on their beds and stared at each other. "Hell, of a day," said Jessica. "No kidding," said Jennifer, nodding her head. "We get turned into teenage girls, then we discover Mom used to be a guy." "Are you OK with that? About your mother, I mean?" "It's a surprise, but of course I am. If I was attracted to a girl and she told me she was transsexual I'd still date her. Like being gay, that stuff isn't as big a deal to most of my generation as it was to yours. How are you dealing with it?" "She's still the woman I fell in love with and married twenty years ago so yeah, it was a shock and it'll take getting used to, but it doesn't change anything." "No, us being teenage girls now is what changes everything, and our old selves being officially dead. It makes me queasy to think today is the day we died." "We should check the news," said Jessica, going over to her desk and opening her laptop. It didn't take her long to find a news report online. The death of a senator's family in an explosion was always going to be a major story. "....footage of the aircraft exploding on take off at Albany airport, captured on a cell-phone...." "Jesus!" said Jennifer as they watched the plane explode and become engulfed in a fireball. "As badly injured as we were, it's amazing we made it out of that alive at all." The report continued with a clip of their concierge opening the door of a limo for her and helping Abigail Carson out. Ignoring the assembled members of the press, she crossed the stretch of sidewalk in front of the tower containing their Manhattan apartment, her eyes concealed behind a pair of dark glasses, and entered the building. "This was Senator Carson returning to her New York apartment ten minutes ago. Her representatives have asked that she be left alone at this difficult time to grieve the loss of her husband and her son." Jennifer came over and hugged the sister that had been her father, staring at the screen. They held each other for a long time. ********************** To be continued.... **********************