Eric Olafson Midshipman Vol 4 Part 78 NEWPORT ACADEMY
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St. Searle's Academy: The New Class - Part 5 free porn video
All the girls at St. Searle's Academy for Young Ladies were once men,
most of them former criminals. Now the new intake are being given their
first mission....
ST. SEARLE'S ACADEMY: THE NEW CLASS - part 5
by BobH
(c) 2017
- 9 -
Finishing her bowl of cereal, Lucy Costello looked around the Great Hall
at everyone else eating their breakfast. Up on the stage at the far end
of the hall was the top table where all the teachers and the headmistress
ate, looking down on the pupils. Where that table ran parallel to the
width of the hall so the long tables where the pupils ate ran parallel to
the length. There were four in all - one for each year. It looked pretty
much like the dining hall at Hogwarts, minus the candles floating in the
air and the owls delivering mail. It also had rather less lavish food.
This consisted of a breakfast buffet laid out on long tables along each
wall from which everyone helped themselves, the food being about
equivalent to what you would expect to find in a reasonably decent hotel.
On their table the fourth years were making do with coffee, grapefruit,
and maybe a croissant, while the first years were piling their plates up
with sausages, bacon, and eggs after starting with orange juice and
cereal. The reason for the difference was obvious. Where the girls in the
fourth year were now fully-grown young women and very figure-conscious,
those in the first still had a lot of growing to do and that growth
needed to be fuelled.
Some of them, however, were growing more swiftly than others.
Lucy glanced across the table to where twins Jessica and Jennifer Smith
were sitting and studied them enviously. Where she had been at St.
Searle's six weeks they had only been here four, yet even in that time
they had started to grow both upward and outwards and were now an inch
taller than Lucy, with breasts that were also more pronounced than they
had been barely a month earlier. From what she recalled of her own
daughter growing up this was more than was natural, but then what they
were dealing with here wasn't the natural but the supernatural so who
could say what was and wasn't normal? Still, it was a startling growth
spurt, and one that showed no signs of stopping. Lucy, on the other hand
and to her great frustration had yet to experience any growth at all.
Irritatingly, the twins had been assigned a birthday in October which
meant that in a few weeks they would officially and legally turn fifteen
while she had to wait until June. Yes, the birthdays they were given
appeared to have been chosen entirely at random, but it still rankled.
Nevertheless they were friends and had become part of her crew, but there
were things about the twins that puzzled Lucy. Jessica was clearly the
dominant twin and Jennifer deferred to her, but there was more to it than
that. Spend any time with them and it soon became obvious that Jessica
was also the more mature of the two. This suggested that in their
previous lives she was almost certainly older than Jennifer. Lucy guessed
they were originally brothers, one older than the other, yet she couldn't
help feeling there was more to it than that, that she was missing
something. From what pupils at the school understood of it, the statuette
could make any two males identical twin girls whether they were related
or not. However, since Lucy could think of no good reason for Virginia
Chapford to do this to anyone other than brothers, it probably wasn't
that. They were certainly both very gifted academically and were aceing
all their classes, which made Lucy wonder what sort of criminals they had
been. Not mobsters like her, of that she was sure. White-collar, almost
certainly. They had likely committed fraud on a scale that made any money
she had stolen look like chump change by comparison.
Turning from the Barbie twins, as everybody called them, Lucy studied the
other two members of her crew.
Meghan Delaney barely looked up as she tucked into her food with gusto.
But then the readhead tackled everything with gusto. Open, friendly, and
enthusiastic, it had come as a surprise when she announced she couldn't
get on with her roommate and had requested a move. As a result she was
now the only one of the crew who had a room to herself, and one of the
few in the school. Her personality also seemed somewhat at odds with her
abilities. She was very good at opening safes and so had presumably been
a safecracker in her previous life, but Lucy had met safecrackers before.
They had all been very intense, very focussed individuals, a description
that didn't really fit Meghan.
Then, sitting beside Lucy, there was Deborah Wu.
The day after Lucy arrived at St. Searle's, Kathy Cardinelli had brought
Debbie Wu to her room and announced that she was to be Lucy's roommate.
The girl seemed stunned and hardly spoke, which Lucy put down at first to
the trauma of her transformation, but in the weeks that followed it
became obvious that she was naturally shy and quiet, rarely speaking up
in company and never being the one to initiate a conversation. Lucy found
it hard to guess at what sort of criminal Debbie had been in her previous
life with that personality. She thought maybe she had been a computer
hacker but Debbie showed no greater aptitude than anyone else in their
computer classes. So either she wasn't a hacker or she was deliberately
hiding her skills. Now she was part of their crew too now, if only
because she was Lucy's roommate.
When everyone had finished eating, the headmistress stood up and made the
day's announcements. It was all pretty standard school stuff and Lucy was
only half-listening, until she came to the final item.
"Lastly", she said, "after classes finish today, "Shondra Prentis, Laura
Cole, Rachel Cohen, Charlotte Kent, Meghan Delaney, and Lucy Costello
will report to the Mechanical Studies room in the basement. That will be
all. Your Wednesday classes await you, girls."
Lucy frowned and looked over at Meghan who shrugged, as much in the dark
as her.
"Mechanical Studies," whispered Jessica as everyone filed out of the hall
in an orderly fashion, "why does Miss Chapford want you two to report
there with those third and fourth years?"
Mechanical Studies was what they called the room where they figured out
how to crack vault doors and safes.
"Beats me," said Lucy. "I guess we'll find out this afternoon."
Wednesday classes were on traditional school subjects including history,
geography, civics, English, and home economics, so it was almost a relief
when these were behind them and Meghan and Lucy could go down to the
basement together. When they arrived at the Mechanical Studies room the
other four were already there. Shondra Prentis and Laura Cole had an arm
around each other's waists and were whispering quietly to each other,
while Rachel Cohen was sitting on a workbench, swinging her legs back and
forth and humming a tune. Beyond the fact she was a third year, Lucy knew
nothing about Rachel. Charlotte Kent was standing on the other side of
the room to everyone else, the expression on her face telling the world
she'd rather be anywhere else but here. Lucy happened to be looking at
Charlotte when the door to the room opened and so saw her face light up
when Flash Thompson entered. It quickly returned to normal when Virginia
Chapford followed him in.
"Good afternoon, girls," she said.
"Good afternoon, Miss Chapford," they replied in unison.
"You were summoned here because the school has need of your talents. The
reason we need them is because of Miss Costello."
Startled, Lucy looked around. All eyes were on her.
"Me?" she said.
"Yes, you, Miss Costello. In your previous life you hid your ill-gotten
gains in various places. We have recovered most of these and added them
to the school coffers. However, one item we're particularly interested in
will require a special operation to retrieve since it's locked away in a
hospital. Would you care to tell everyone why, and what that item is?"
So *that's* what this was about.
"It's a small, solid gold figurine about six inches tall with rubies for
eyes. Looks like a Buddha, except that the figure is a lot thinner,
naked, and has both a penis and breasts. Doctor Patrick Bulmer works at
the hospital - Emmanuel Klein Maternity Hospital in Brooklyn - and he's
got a serious gambling addiction. He owed me and my, ah, 'associates' a
lot of money. Since I don't like having all my assets in one place I
offered him more time to come up with what he owed if he stashed the
figurine in his office safe for me. He agreed, of course."
"The first stage of our operation to recover the figurine took place
yesterday," said Virginia. "Miss Prentis, if you would?"
Shondra Prentis disengaged from her girlfriend and cleared her throat
before speaking.
"Rachel, Laura and I visited the hospital yesterday. Flash - I mean
Colonel Thompson - had briefed us on our mission beforehand and driven us
down to New York. He waited outside while Laura and I went in for our
appointment with Dr Bulmer, which had been arranged weeks ago. We were
masquerading as recently-married twenty year olds wanting to start a
family and looking into getting Laura pregnant with donor sperm from
their sperm bank. While we were in his office, his secretary buzzed
through and informed him a bicycle courier had arrived with a package he
had to sign for."
"That was me," said Rachel.
"He apologised," continued Shondra, "and told us he'd be back in a
minute. As soon as we were alone in the office we leapt into action. I
moved his diploma aside and took a photo of the wall safe behind it with
my phone. We'd been told where it would be and I took the photo because
our informant - Lucy, I now know - wasn't knowledgeable enough about
safes to tell us what type it was. This only took a few seconds so that
when Dr Bulmer returned it looked as if we hadn't moved."
"We made a follow up appointment with him," said Laura, picking up the
story, "but we won't be keeping it. While Shondra was photographing the
safe I was scanning the office and a spotted a small, concealed camera
over the door aimed at the wall safe. As soon as we left Dr Bulmer's
office we went looking for the recording room. Since there are screens on
the main reception desk manned by security staff that monitor all the
public areas, it seemed unlikely the recording room would also be manned,
and that turned out to be the case when we located it two floors down."
"It had a small window in it about six inches by eight," said Shondra,
"and it was in a public area, near a nurses' station.
Openly examining it without being seen was impossible, so Laura and I
made out against the door while surreptitiously
getting what we needed. First I took a photo of the contents of the room
through the glass, then I spun Laura around so that I was the one with
their back to the door and she could place the small laser scanner in her
hand over the lock."
"You've head about those devices you place on the floor in the middle of
the room that then do a full 3-D scan of it using a laser, yeah? Well
this was a small version of that device. It did a full scan of the inside
of the lock through the keyhole," said Laura.
"When a nurse came over and told us to stop our 'unseemly' display I
thought we might have been interrupted before Laura could complete the
scan."
"Fortunately, we hadn't," said Laura. "Once we got back here and fed the
scan into the appropriate software it was able to generate a 3-D image of
the key which we then used a 3-D printer to produce."
"Well done, Laura, Shondra," said Virginia Chapford. "Your part in all
this is now done so we'll leave Colonel Thompson to brief the others on
the next part of the operation."
When they departed John turned to the others.
"From the photographs they took we were able to identify the wall safe as
a Samuelson TM-80. As you'll have noticed, we've taken our own TM-80 out
of storage and set it up on a workbench in this room. Does that safe
present any difficulties for you, Miss Delaney?"
"Nah, piece of cake," said Meaghan. "All I'll need is a stethoscope."
"What *I* need is for you to be able to get into it in under a minute. To
that end you'll spend all day in here tomorrow practicing on our safe to
get your time down. We'll be travelling to New York on Friday. Charlotte
and I will be newlyweds, while you and Miss Costello play my adopted
daughters from my first marriage...."
- 10 -
John Thompson smiled as Charlotte Kent ran her hand over his head and
tutted.
"You can grow your hair out now, y'know," she said, "you're not in the
military anymore, Johnny."
"Old habits," he replied. "I got used to the buzzcut so I kept it when I
resigned."
It was several hours after the mission briefing and they were on the
couch in his small apartment over the main garage, Charlotte snuggled up
against him with her legs tucked under her. He had an arm around her
shoulders. The TV was on in the background with its sound turned down,
ignored by a couple who only had eyes for each other.
"Do you ever regret it?" she asked. "Resigning, I mean. You were career
military. We both were."
"Not for a second. If I hadn't you'd either still be in a coma in a VA
hospital, or you'd be dead and lying in that grave of yours in Arlington
for real. Everyone in our unit made a promise to do right by the others,
and we're the only two who made it out of our last mission alive. We
shouldn't even have been in that damn country nor could anyone ever
publically acknowledge we had been, but orders are orders."
"I've never been involved in a bigger clusterfudge...darn it! It's been
ages since I last forgot I can't swear anymore!"
John laughed and kissed the top of Charlotte's head.
"I think it's adorable," he said.
She smiled, and slid her hand inside his shirt, running her slender
fingers over his 'six-pack' abs.
"That's me," she said, "totally adorable and totally ready to let you
have your way with me."
He gently removed her hand.
"You know that I can't," he said. "Kissing and cuddling only until you
turn eighteen."
"This is ridiculous!" she said. "We're almost the same age. I turned
eighteen years ago."
"The old you did," he said, "Kevin did, but the new you is officially and
legally still only seventeen. I want you as much as you want me, but that
stuff matters to me."
"Then the night before my birtday I'm going to be in this apartment with
you, waiting for the clock to strike midnight. The minute I'm officially
eighteen again we're going to celebrate by having you pop my cherry,
deal?"
"Deal," he said, laughing.
"Sometimes I wish St. Searle's was still in England," Charlotte grumbled.
"The age of consent is sixteen over there so we could have already been
getting it on together for a year."
"There are days I still can't believe what has happened between us
already."
"That when I was transformed and had grown from a girl into a young woman
we'd fall in love?" she said. "I think it was practically preordained.
When I started getting attracted to boys, me falling for you was
inevitable given our shared experiences and us having been brothers-in-
arms. What I wasn't at all sure about was if you'd fall for me. You knew
me as a guy, and I had no idea what you thought about transsexuals since
it wasn't something we'd ever talked about."
"I wasn't expecting to and I hadn't planned to, but watching you grow
from that gangly girl you started out as into the gorgeous young woman
you are now, I couldn't help myself. I didn't even try to fight it."
"I'm glad, Johnny, really glad. Now if only you'd let me in on all they
have you doing at St. Searle's. You're a weapons teacher and chauffeur
slash bodyguard, but there's more to it than that isn't there?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Come on, Johnny; after all we've seen and done, all our training, I know
what to look for. There's more going on here than the girls realize."
"Yeah, yeah there is, but I can't tell you. It's... classified."
"Classified? By who? We're not in the military anymore. This is a girl's
school."
"I'm sorry, Char, but I'm not allowed to tell you, I'm truly not. I gave
my word."
"Well, okay," she said, "I trust you, but if you're not going to tell me
you need to cuddle me some more."
"Works for me."
With Charlotte snuggling up to him even tighter, John Thompson found his
mind drifting back to that day in the Veterans Administration hospital,
the day his world changed forever....
"I'm sorry, Colonel Thompson, but there's been no improvement in Sgt
Lane's condition, nor do we believe there ever will be. Medical science
has done all it can for him. Even if he were to wake from his coma he'd
never move again. His spinal injuries are too great."
Gripping the rail at the end of his injured comrade's bed,
John Thompson let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging at her words. Dr Jill
Milton had been his last hope. If even she believed that nothing could be
done for Kevin then nothing could, so where did he go from here?
"He's still alive in there you know," he said, staring at the tubes
running in and out of Kevin's body and at the bellows moving the air his
own lungs no longer could. "When we play him his favourite music the EEG
shows his brainwave activity spike so we know he can hear it and is
reacting to it."
"Yes, but sadly only our machines are keeping his body alive, and that's
not going to change. Stop the machines and he dies. Keep them running and
he could still be here, like this, ten years from now. Is that what you
want for him? I believe Sgt Lane grew up in orphanages before joining the
military and listed you as his next of kin?"
"He had to list someone. So yeah, he did."
"Then you're the one who has to decide his fate and what to do next.
However, before you make a decision I'd like you to ring this number."
She handed him a business card containing only a phone number.
"What is this?" he asked, frowning.
"Medical science has done all it can for your comrade. Ring that number
and you might find an alternative source of hope."
"I don't understand what you're telling me."
"I'm not authorised to say any more. Just ring the number. What do you
have to lose?"
What indeed? Which is how, two days later, John Thompson had found
himself meeting with a stranger in a far corner of the car park at Newark
airport. Silver-haired and bearded, the man was wearing an immaculate
dark suit and carrying a silver-topped cane.
"Are you Duvall?" John asked.
"I am indeed," he said. "Colonel Thompson, I presume?"
"You're not what I imagined when we spoke on the phone,"said John, as
they shook hands.
"I never am what people expect."
"So you have a way of making Kevin well again?"
"I do."
"And the price? You're not offering this out of the goodness of your
heart."
"You leave the military and come to work for us for a minimum of seven
years. We have need of someone with your abilities to replace the man who
has fulfuled that role for us for the past thirty years and who has now
reached an age where he wishes to retire."
"Who is 'us'? I won't do anything illegal or betray my country."
"Nor would we ask you to. Well, betray our country, anyway; we do
occasionally have to do things that are technically illegal, though they
are always done for the greater good."
"Whose greater good?"
"Ultimately? The entire world's."
John thought about this for a moment.
"Assuming I agree to your proposal, how can you mend Kevin when every
doctor I've consulted says that's impossible?"
"Magic."
"Magic? Seriously? I come all this way and all you have to offer me is
this bullshit?"
"We expected you to be sceptical, which is why I was sent to make the
introduction. You don't believe magic exists; I can prove to you that it
does."
Duvall made a fist of his left hand, concentrated on it intensely for a
few seconds, then opened the hand. A small, perfectly formed sphere of
light about the size of a pool ball hovered there, an inch or so above
his palm. It slowly expanded until it was about six inches in diameter.
"It's a trick!" said John, eyes wide, "It has to be!"
"I assure you it's not," said Duvall. "This is a sorceror's sphere.
They're a sort of measuring device. And they're getting bigger every time
I produce one."
"What do they measure?"
"Ambient magic. It's something akin to background radiation, always there
to some degree, but the amount has been gradually increasing for years."
Duval slowly closed his hand, the sphere shrinking as he did so before
finally popping like a soap bubble.
"Even if I accept what you just demonstrated was real magic, it still
doesn't prove you can heal Kevin."
"No, it doesn't," replied Duvall, "but it should be enough for you to
take a trip to witness a demonstration of that process for yourself."
He reached into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a plane ticket, and
handed this to John.
"Your flight to Albany leaves in forty minutes."
He took it, of course.
Even though Duvall had warned him what to expect after giving him his
ticket, John was still surprised to see the black London taxi waiting for
him when he emerged from the terminal at Albany sirport. Its driver, who
had been standing next to it, recognised him immediately.
"Colonel Thompson," he said, taking John's hand and pumping it
vigorously, "it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Alan Munn."
Munn was tall, heavily built, and looked to be around sixty. He also had
a way of carrying himself that identified him instantly to John as ex-
military.
"We'll have to talk on the way," said Munn, "because our passenger is
here."
John turned in the direction Munn was looking to see a small, nervous-
looking and clearly Jewish middle-aged guy heading their way flanked by
two large men in suits, wearing shades. He sighed. Sometimes the Feds
couldn't make themselves look more obvious if they tried. With a minimum
of words exchanged, Munn took custody of their prisoner and the men left.
"Boy am I glad to see the back of them," said the man. "I'm Simon
Goldberg and you're taking me to my new life in witness protection. So
where we goin'?"
"If you'll climb into the back of the car Mr Goldberg I'll let you know
when we get there," said Munn. "You get to ride in front with me, John."
As soon as they were all in the black cab, Munn put it in gear and pulled
away from the terminal, heading for the exit.
"I've turned off the intercom so Goldberg can't hear us through the
divider," he said.
"Good. So, witness protection. I guess that means the guys who brought
him here were US Marshals?"
"No, FBI."
"Huh? But the US Marshals Service oversees the Federal Witness Protection
Program."
"They do, but our relationship with the government is... unusual.
"Fair enough, for now. So how did you get this gig anyway? I'm guessing
there'a a lot more to it than being a driver."
"There is, and they recruited me the same way they'll recruit you," he
said.
"I haven't agreed to be recruited yet."
"No, but you will. My brother was dying, terminal cancer, and my services
were the price for saving him. I'm guessing they've offered to save
someone important to you, too."
John nodded.
"They have," he said. "Do you ever regret your choice?"
"Never. I'd have done anything to save my brother, but it turned out this
was a job worth doing, vital even. That's why I've done it for thirty
years."
"Duvall said it was of global importance, not just national."
"Oh, it is. I'm not allowed to tell you any more until you agree to join
us, but it will blow your mind."
"Yet you're retiring."
"I am. I'm slowing down and my reflexes are not as fast as they were.
They need someone younger and stronger, and I've reached a point where I
want to spend more time with my family, such as it is. In fact I'm just
back from visiting my sister and her husband. I was there a few days ago
for the christening of their new kid, my niece."
"Does she have many children?"
"Five. Three by her first husband, who are all off in college, and two by
her new husband. To tell you the truth, I think it was her inability to
cope with 'empty nest syndrome' that led to the breakdown of her first
marriage. She wanted children again, so she's starting a new family with
her second husband who's eighteen years her junior."
"So your sister's in her forties?" said John, doing a quick bit of mental
arithmetic.
"Forty five," said Munn, "though she could easily pass for a dozen years
younger. She's so happy to have babies once more I wouldn't be at all
surprised if she has another in a year or so, and maybe even another one
after that. I watched her breastfeed my niece when I was there and I
don't think I've ever seen her look happier."
Shortly after this John got his first sight of St.Searle's and then found
himself in the headmistress's office, watching in open-mouthed
astonishment as Simon Goldberg was transformed from a thirty-something
man into a teenage girl. Duvall's stunt could have been a trick, but not
this. Magic was real. Virginia Chapford told the dazed girl her name was
now Rachel Cohen and had another girl come and take her away.
"*That's* how you'd restore Kevin to health?" John said, stunned at what
he had just witnessed. "By turning him into a teenage girl and having him
be a pupil at this school?"
"That's the way the statuette works, Colonel Thompson," said Virginia.
"It's the only method we have of restoring your comrade to full health.
And attending the school is by far they best way of adapting to the
change. Accept our proposal - join us - and you'll be here to watch over
her and to see that we treat her properly."
"It's what I did," said Alan Munn.
That's when the penny dropped.
"Then your sister...."
"Used to be my brother. I've only ever had one sibling."
"I don't know whether Kevin would go for this," said John, "and I can't
ask him."
"Young and healthy versus confined to a bed and unable to move?" said
Munn. "That's a no-brainer, surely?"
It was. Soon after this Sgt Kevin Lane was collected from his VA hospital
by an ambulance into which he was loaded complete with all the equipment
keeping him alive - the ambulance had arrived with brand new replacements
for the hospital - and driven away. A few hours later at the Ronald
Clinic, twenty miles outside of Albany, he lay with his hand on the
statuette as a team of nurses and doctors led by Jill Milton stood by,
ready to remove that self same equipment and yank out all the tubes
leading into his body.
"Get ready to remove everything on the count of three," said Virginia
Chapford. "One.. two.. three!"
The instant everything had been removed, she quietly muttered a single
word...and it began.
"A penny for them?"
"Hmmm?" said John, returning to the present. "Sorry, I was just
remembering the day you became Charlotte. I was a mass of nerves,
wondering whether or not I'd made the right decision?"
"Are you kidding me?" she laughed, shaking her head. "Honestly, Johnny,
there was only one right choice and you made it."
Something on the TV caught John's attention and he sat bolt upright,
dislodging Charlotte.
"Hey!" she said.
"Sorry," said John, grabbing the TV remote and unmuting the sound, "but I
need to see this news item."
"...just announced that their tests on the wreckage of the aircraft in
which billionaire businessman Matthew Carson and his son Connor died four
weeks ago are now complete. As a result of those tests they are able to
confirm the explosion that killed them was caused by a bomb, as widely
assumed. No individual or terrorist group has claimed responsibility so
authorities as yet have no idea whether Matthew Carson was the intended
target or if it was his wife, Senator Abigail Carson, who should have
been on that flight with him and their son. So while we may not know who
was responsible or who their target was we do now know this was no
accident. It was cold-blooded murder."
**********************
To be continued....
**********************
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