Eric Olafson Midshipman Vol 4 Part 78 NEWPORT ACADEMY
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St. Searle's Academy: The New Class - Part 7 free porn video
The story of how the school came to be, followed by a Christmas
interlude. While the rest of their crew spend the holiday at St.
Searle's, teenage twins Jessica and Jennifer return to the home they last
set foot in when they were father and son....
ST. SEARLE'S ACADEMY: THE NEW CLASS - part 7
by BobH
(c) 2017
- 13 -
"Tea?"
"Yes, thank you."
Before arriving at St. Searle's, John Thompson was a coffee drinker who
looked down his nose at tea. But then before arriving at St. Searle's he
had never had tea that had been made properly. Virginia Chapford made tea
properly. Sitting in her office, watching her pour it from the teapot
into a bone-china cup, John reflected on how your opininon of anything
could change the first time you experienced it as it was supposed to be.
Virginia added milk to the tea and passed it across to him.
"Thanks," he said, accepting it.
Virginia sat back in her chair, took a sip from her own cup, and regarded
him levelly.
"What's your assessment of how our first years did on their yesterday's
outing?" she asked.
"Meaghan Delaney performed admirably. Our plan required her to open the
safe in under a minute. She did so in forty seconds."
"What about Miss Costello?"
"Lucy didn't have the same level of responsibilty as Meaghan. I'd rate
her performance as...adequate. She seemed distracted for some reason. She
made no mistakes, but she wasn't as focussed as she should've been."
"Does she suspect the gold figurine's true nature?"
"No. We've given her no reason to think it's a mystic artefact. She still
believes its value lies solely in it being solid gold."
"Good. Did the hospital security tape you secured during yesterday's
abortive mission tell you anything?" asked Virginia, taking another sip
of tea.
John had spent much of the night scrolling through the recordings, first
to locate those from the camera aimed at the wall safe in Dr Bulmer's
office, and then to see if the theft of the figurine that had preempted
their own theft of that item had occurred in the forty eight hour period
covered by the recordings. It had.
"Someone broke into the safe the day before we did and took the
figurine," he said. "He crawled through the ventilation ducts and dropped
into the office via the drop-down grille above the desk. Doctor Bulmer
was off sick so the office was empty."
"People actually do that?" said Virginia, sounding surprised. "I thought
that was just a TV cliche and that the fixings that hold ducting in place
wouldn't support a man's weight in real life."
"It helps if you're small, and this guy was."
"Could you identify him?"
"He was wearing a mask. So, no. Unlike us, he wasn't worried about the
security video and made no attempt to get hold of the recording. He was
good, too. Had the safe open in less than a minute using only a
stethoscope, just as Meaghan Delaney did."
"Dr Bulmer being out sick was awfully convenient."
"Too convenient. It's my belief someone slipped something into his food
or drink."
"The day before we were due to break into the safe ourselves, too.
Coincidence?"
"I don't believe in coincidence. No, like it or not we have to face the
possibility the people behind this were tipped off by someone here at St.
Searle's. It's the most likely explanation"
"The only ones who knew what we were planning were you, me, Charlotte
Kent, Meaghan Delaney, Lucy Costello, Rachel Cohen, Shondra Prentis, and
Laura Cole," said Virginia, raising a finger as she said each name.
"Eight people."
"I think we can safely eliminate you and me, and I'd trust Charlotte with
my life. That leaves five, all of whom were transformed by the statuette
and indoctrinated by you while they held it. It shouldn't even be
possible for any of them to betray the school, but I believe one of them
has. If I'm right, there's no point interrogating them. They're supposed
to be unable to disobey an instruction from a teacher, yet one of them is
clearly capable of lying. Somehow she resisted the indoctrination."
"This is a very worrying development, John. All five will have to be
watched, of course. Do you think the people who got to the figurine
before us are the same people who put the bomb on Abigail's plane?"
"I hope so. I don't like the idea of one enemy knowing about the school
let alone two. Unfortunately we don't have enough information to even
make an educated guess about this."
Virginia leaned back in chair, lost in thought. As she often did at such
times she let her gaze rest on a particular oil painting on the office
wall. It showed a young woman in 17th century garb. John had often
wondered who she was but never asked. He decided he would now.
"I've often wondered who she was," said John. "She clearly means
something to you."
"Hmmm?" said Virginia, turning to face him. "Yes, she did. That's Lady
Jane Carew. She was the first woman I ever loved."
"The first? Does that mean...?"
"That I'm a lesbian? Yes, John. I would've thought you observant enough
to have noticed before this."
"What do you mean?"
"Given the age I was raised in I am reasonably circumspect in such
matters, but Brenda is not. I'm surprised you haven't noticed how she
looks at me."
"Brenda Templeton? So you and she are...?"
"Lovers, yes. Honestly, John, why so surprised? My, ah, condition may
make it prudent for me to hide myself away in this school, but I'm not
dead yet. I'm centuries old but I'm still physically thirty and I have
the emotional and sexual needs of a thirty year old woman. The teachers
in this school have the same strong attraction to men as every other
woman who was a girl here, but they've chosen to remove themselves from
temptation and indulge their lesser but still significant attraction to
women instead. Most pair off with each other, some with me."
"So Brenda's not the first?"
"Hardly. There have been many wonderful woman in my life and in my bed
down the years."
"But they were all fourteen year old girls at one point, and you were the
one who made them that!"
"Yes, and many girls develop crushes on their teachers, which includes
me. Some grow up, return, and get to act on that crush. Does that shock
you, John?"
"I feel like it should, but it doesn't, no. So you and this Lady Jane
Carew. How did that work back then?"
"Quite well at first. In my social circle people would turn a blind eye
towards passion between woman so long as you were discreet and as long as
you eventually married a man. Jane accepted this, I didn't. I was
distraught when she married and I vowed no man would ever have his way
with me. My father was furious, of course, but I was adamant. I was still
single when I stopped aging."
"What was that like?"
"It wasn't like anything. I only gradually became aware I was no longer
aging as the years rolled on. When it became obvious this was the case,
when people started to notice and to talk about my condition, my by then
aged father sent me away to our family's estate in Scotland. Out of
sight, out of mind. Or so he hoped. But this wasn't a viable long term
solution. When he came to visit me I told him I couldn't bear being
cooped up like that and I wished to go travelling and see the world. As
long as I didn't stay too long in any one place no one would notice I
didn't age. To do this I needed him to establish a fund for me, one I
could call on whenever I needed and which would last centuries if
necessary, accruing interest over time. We were extremely wealthy and my
father loved me, so he agreed. I spent the next hundred years roaming the
world, and had many adventures. I was in America for your revolution. An
exciting time to be alive, that.
I didn't return to England and to London until the first half of the
nineteenth century, by which time everyone I had known was long dead, of
course, including my beloved Jane. I was tired. Not physically but rather
spiritually. My life lacked purpose. Then a man named Edwin Pemberton
entered my life. He was a member of the Order of Merlyn and he knew all
about me. He was also a lot like Lucius Duvall and held the same position
in its hierarchy, so perhaps it's a role that attracts a particular type
of person. Anyway, he had a proposition for me. He told me the Order had
recently acquired a mystic artefact of singular ability."
"The stone statuette," said John.
"The stone statuette," she agreed. "Having considered the matter they had
decided the best way to utilise its properties was to establish school
where wretched and feckless males could be transformed into young girls,
then taught how to become respectable young woman. He also explained why
this was important in the greater scheme of things, how over the
generation these transgendered woman having children would gradually
unlock the mystic potential hidden in all humans, something that would
eventually be needed for a war the Order knew would be coming in the
twenty first century. They had the funds necessary to buy suitable
premises and cover running costs and they wanted me to run the school, my
condition providing it with the continuity they wanted it to have. I
agreed, and that's how The St. Searle School for Wayward Girls came to
be."
Virginia paused to take another sip of her tea, then sighed.
"Things went well, at first. We prepared the girls for jobs mostly in
domestic service and the like when they would usually soon meet eligible
young men, marry, and have children. They were all as beautiful then as
they are now so finding husbands was never a problem. As for me...over
time I became a senior member of the Order while remaining headmistress
of St. Searle's, which is how I got involved in the battle with the
necromancer towards the end of that century. I've told you about him
before, but I've never explained the larger picture, have I?"
John shook his head.
"Just as a receding tide leaves water in rock pools so the previous age
of magic ending with the turning of the great celestial axis left behind
such magic as had been trapped in a large variety of mystic artefacts
such as those that still turn up to this day. At first there were a lot
of these, some whose ability to do what they did seemed inexhaustible and
others whose magic could be used up. Many of these items were sought out
and gathered together by the Order down the centuries. The largest number
we ever had to hand was during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I. It was
then that her spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham and the alchemist John Dee
- both members of the Order - conceived their grand plan. They were men
of their time and they believed the best way to be ready for the war the
Order knew was coming was to unite humanity under single rule, by force
if necessary. The war lay half a millennium in the future, which they
thought time enough to bring about this transformation. And so they
brought together all the many artefacts the Order had collected, pooling
the magic they contained. They used this to bend fate itself to their
will and enable the creation the largest empire the world had ever seen."
"The British Empire," said John, stunned by this revelation, "you're
saying it was an act of magic that set the British Empire in motion."
"I am. Has it never seemed improbable to you that a small, damp isle off
the coast of the European mainland should end up ruling a quarter of the
planet? There were reverses, of course, but at its height the Empire was
growing faster than those in London could keep up with."
"But their plan didn't work," said John. "In case you hadn't noticed, the
British Empire doesn't exist anymore."
"That's because what was birthed with magic was also killed by it.
Military might on that scale is a sledgehammer, but not everything
requires a sledgehammer. Sometimes all you need to achieve your objective
is a carefully applied scalpel. Because of its magical origin, the Empire
was in mystical terms like a living entity and like a living entity it
had a heart. That heart was London. Towards the end of the nineteenth
century, a necromancer made a number of ritual blood sacrifices in London
that would have appeared to a lay person to be little more than senseless
butchery. In reality these were scalpel cuts applied with great precision
used to power spells that did irreparable damage."
"You told me the Order took out Jack the Ripper," said John.
"We did, but it was too late: he had destroyed the heart and the body
died. The death was metaphysical of course - he hadn't killed an actual
living being - but he had killed the Empire. It's death throes took
decades, but that was how the fatal blow was delivered. Walsingham and
Dee's great plan, a project which had consumed most of the Order's
magical stockpile, had come to nothing."
"So I guess you know who Jack the Ripper was?"
"I always hated the name they gave the necromancer, but yes of course I
do. It was Edwin Pemberton."
"The guy who recruited you to the Order? But why?"
"I doubt we'll ever know. Unfortunately we couldn't stop him without
killing him. After that things went from bad to worse.
They called World War I 'the war to end war', which it didn't, but one
thing it did put an to was the school."
"I don't understand," said John, frowning.
"There was a day near the end of the war when, after breakfast in the
main hall, I stood up and told the girls I had terrible news for them.
When they left the school only one in ten of them was likely to find a
husband because the men the other nine should have married had been
killed in the trenches. And I was right; only one in ten of them did
marry. This was also why Montgomery was so cautious about committing his
troops a generation later in World War II, to the annoyance of American
commanders. But he had no choice. He should have had far more men in
uniform under him, but those who would have fathered his missing men died
in World War I and they were never born. With the severe shortage of men
after World War I, it would have been immoral to reduce that number still
further by taking men however feckless and transforming them into girls.
So the decision was taken to close down the school and to relocate it. In
the mid 1920s, I crossed the Atlantic with only the statuette, the school
photos, and my personal belongings, and opened St. Searle's Academy for
Young Ladies. The Order bought this estate for a song after its owner
lost everything in the Wall Street Crash, and the school has been here
ever since."
"How did you come by the portrait of Jane Carew?" asked John. "Did you
commission it?"
"No, she sat for it during her lifetime when she was still young and
beautiful. I bought it at auction shortly before moving to America. The
death of their sons during World War I destroyed several great families.
The fortunes of the Carew family had been fading for a while anyway, but
with her sons dead and the male line ended, Lady Carew decided to sell
up. Still, at least Jane's line survives in my descendants."
"*Your* descendants? But how...?"
"Because the man to whom Jane getting wed broke my heart was my brother
Thomas."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was a long time ago. A very long time. And I actually take
comfort in the fact that her bloodline and mine continue in my
descendants."
She took another sip of her tea.
"What about the other matter. Charlotte, I mean?" asked John.
"Inducting someone into the Order while they're still a pupil at St.
Searle's would be most irregular. In fact, it's never been done before."
"Yes, but the Charlotte isn't exactly a regular pupil. She has the same
skills as me and is a better sniper. I'd go so far as to say she's the
best shot I've ever known."
"I understand and I agree, and I don't deny she'd be an asset to us, but
it's not just my decision. I'd have to take it up with the others. And
you can rest assured I will."
- 14 -
"Jeez, I'm freezing my ass off," said Jennifer Smith. "I hope Mom gets
here soon."
It was December 24th, two months after the failed hospital heist. Having
just flown in from Albany, twins Jessica and Jennifer were standing
outside the Newark airport terminal building at the spot where Abigail
Carson should have been sitting in a car waiting for them. Both were
dressed in their school uniforms and winter coats, but with white
leggings in place of socks. Their long blonde hair was still in
regulation first year pigtails tied off with ribbons, and they were
wearing furry ear-muffs and woollen gloves.
"Here she comes!" said Jessica as a familiar limousine arrived and pulled
up in front of them. The rear door opened and Abigail Carson smiled up at
them from inside.
"Get in, girls," she said, "it's freezing out there."
Leaving their bags for the chauffeur to load into the trunk, they did
just that. As soon as they were inside, Abigail leaned across from where
she was seated opposite and wrapped them in a big embrace, kissing them
both on their foreheads.
"I've missed you," she said, dropping back into her seat. "Those few
minutes together when you were first transformed weren't enough, but that
was the way it had to be. You needed time to adjust before we saw each
other again."
"We missed you, too," said Jessica. "There are lots of things I want to
ask you, about the school and your role in it, but they can wait. I
just...we just...God! When we left home we were your husband and your
son; now we're returning to it, months later, as teenage girls with you
as our legal guardian and future adoptive parent. It's a lot to get your
head around, even now."
"It is," agreed Abigail, "and it's going to be awkward at first as we
adjust to our changed relationship. Do I wish you were still Matthew and
Connor? Of course I do. But the two people I love most in the world are
healthy, whole, and alive, which they wouldn't have been without the
school. For me, that's everything."
"For us, too, Mom," said Jennifer. "And now we've got used to it, being a
girl isn't so bad."
"I agree, and I can't believe how you've grown."
"Yeah, we do seem to be developing unnaturally fast," said Jessica. "Not
that I'm complaining."
"I'm sure you're not, but why do you still have your hair in pigtails?
You have to while you're at St. Searle's but you don't have to outside."
"We don't?" said Jennifer, as the limousine pulled away from the curb.
"But I thought we were compelled to."
"No. You were told you couldn't discuss the school with outsiders, reveal
who you used to be, couldsn't commit crimes, and so on. You were then
told you must obey the school rules."
"Of course," said Jessica, comprehension dawning. "While we can't go
against those first commands anywhere, school rules only apply in
school."
"Now you're getting it."
The twins shared a glance, then immediately slid the ribbons off and
started unbraiding their hair. Abigail watched in amusement then handed
them each a hairbrush and a hand-mirror.
"I had a hunch you might need these," she said. "Of course, you'll still
both need to get your hair styled properly. I'll take you to see my
personal stylist in a couple of days."
"We have to keep it long for school," said Jennifer, not looking up from
the mirror as she brushed her golden locks.
"And you will keep it long. Having it styled doesn't mean you have to
lose much length. So, tell me about school...."
They did just that, the twins talking, Abigail listening, and all three
of them gradually relaxing and loosening up so that by the time they got
to their Manhattan apartment the banter between them was almost what it
had been before. Almost.
"It's good to home again!" said Jessica when she stepped out of the
private elevator that opened into their penthouse home and surveyed the
familiar entrance area and staircase before her. Though perched atop an
exclusive apartment block overlooking Central Park, their home was no
mere apartment but more a two-storey mansion, a testament to what money
could buy.
"The large guest room is now your bedroom," said Abigail, "and Jennifer's
former bedroom as Connor is a guest room. I'll take you up to your room.
You'll have to carry your own bags, of course."
The staff all got Christmas off. Even their chauffeur was now heading off
to his family, transporting the twins from the airport having been his
last task until after tomorrow.
The large guest room was easily three times the size of the twins' room
at St. Searle's. Each side of it had a queen-size bed, dressing table,
desk, chest of drawers, and closet. Going over to one of the closets,
Abigail slid back the door to reveal a rack of clothing below which were
a dozen pairs of shoes, all with heels of varying height.
"I got Gail Davis to send me your latest measurements then went out and
bought two identical wardrobes," she said. Gail Davis was the school
nurse and took measurements of growing students every month.
She then went over to a chest of drawers and pulled out bras, thongs, and
panties.
"You may have to endure that institutional, white cotton underwear at
school, but while you're home you can indulge yourselves with proper
female underwear of silk and lace."
"Thank you, Mom," said Jennifer, clearly pleased, while Jessica said
nothing.
"Is something wrong?" asked Abigail, frowning.
"No, it's just...," began Jessica, before stopping and starting again.
"St. Searle's is almost its own little country, one hermetically sealed
from the real world. While you're there, with everyone wearing the same
uniform, you get used to its ways and can sort of ignore the fact the
rest of the world exists beyond the school gates. This makes everything
somehow more real."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"No, but it is going to take a bit of getting used to. But thank you for
this. There's no one better than you to ease us back into the real world
in our new roles."
So saying she went over to Abigail and hugged her, Jennifer joining in a
few seconds later.
"Right," said Abigail, when they'd finished hugging, "I'd better get
downstairs and get everything ready for dinner. Chef prepared it in the
slow cooker before leaving and it'll be ready in about twenty minutes.
That gives you time to freshen up and to change into something more
comfortable."
When she left Jennifer went immediately to her closet and began pulling
out various dresses.
"No trousers, I see," said Jessica, ruefully.
"Can't say I'm surprised," said Jennifer, holding one dress after another
against her body. "She wants us to both fully accept we're girls now."
"Yeah, except we have," said Jessica, watching her twin in amusement. "I
wonder what she'd say if she knew how much time we spend talking about
the members of various boy bands, and not just for Teen Culture class
either."
"She'd probably be happy we're getting interested in boys. She's been
through this herself, remember.."
"I suppose, yeah. Listen, while you decide on which outfits we should
wear I want to check out my office. I'll only be a minute."
"OK."
Her former office was just down the hall from their bedroom. It looked as
masculine as she remembered it, all leather chairs and polished wood. At
first, Jessica didn't notice any differences, then she saw that her
humidor had gone. That made sense. Abigail would have given her cigars
away. It might be a small thing compared to recent upheavals, but she
still felt a pang at the loss of this part of her former life. Sitting
down at the desk she turned the computer on. Her own former name was
still listed as a user, but a new one had been added: Carla Mendez. As
per her agreement with their headmistress, Jessica communicated with
Carla via computer for an hour every evening to oversee the family
business and keep track of what was happening. How often had Carla been
seated at this desk during those sessions, she wondered? She'd assumed
Carla had always been either at work or in her own apartment, but
apparently not. Jessica logged on briefly under her former name to see if
her password still worked - it did - then logged out again.
"So should we go with the blue dress or the sleeveless canary yellow
one?" said Jennifer when she returned.
"Blue, I think, and the matching one inch heels."
"Only an inch? Not two?"
"Let's learn to walk before we try running. Neither of us has worn heels
before."
"True enough. One inch it is, then."
The idea they would wear different outfits was not even considered.
Becoming twins might not have been their choice, but it was a role they
fully embraced.
"While we're here I think we should practice walking in heels and work
our way up to the taller ones," said Jennifer, who actually sounded
excited at the prospect. "It's a skill we're going to need."
"Agreed."
The underwear they chose included a thong, stockings, and a garter belt,
mainly because they had worn none of these before and wanted to try them
out. Or, more precisely, Jennifer did and Jessica went along with her.
She might be the alpha-twin in most things, but Jessica mainly followed
Jennifer's lead when it came to their clothes. Descending the stairs
Jessica was hyper aware of them and how odd these items felt against her
skin, but she knew this would pass. She had grown comfortable with much
greater changes recently, after all. Passing through the family room they
paused briefly at the impressive Christmas tree, under which lay two
small gift-wrapped packages with their names on.
"Ah, you're here," said Abigail when they entered the kitchen. "and both
looking pretty as a picture. Perfect timing."
They took their places around the kitchen table and she placed the pot
from the slow cooker on a mat in the centre. The smell coming from it was
mouth-watering.
"Chicken madras and rice," she said, using a ladle to fill their dishes.
"Enjoy."
"So," said Jessica as they ate, "I see you got rid of my cigars."
"Gave them to your cousin Thurston," said Abigail, "who was really happy
to receive them."
"I'll bet."
Jessica pondered whether to ask about Carla Mendez and why she would be
working from Jessica's former office then decided not to. That was a
conversation for another time, but there was one she wanted now.
"So," she said, when they had finished eating, "about St. Searle's;
there's more going on in that school than meets the eye, isn't there?"
Abigail Carson lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply before replying.
"I won't insult your intelligence by denying it," she said, "but it's not
something I can talk about."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both. You're just going to have to trust me and accept that for now."
Jessica considered this for a moment, then nodded.
"OK," she said, "but there is something I want from you."
"Oh? What?"
"A cigarette. No school rules here, remember?"
Abigail raised her eyebrows then laughed before sliding her cigarettes
and lighter across the table to Jessica.
The Carson family was one of those where the tradition was to open
presents on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day itself, so a little
later they went across to the tree.
"We didn't get anything for you, Mom," said Jennifer.
"I didn't expect you to," she said, ruffling her child's hair
affectionately. "Having you and Jessica here is all I wanted."
When the twins opened their identically-wrapped presents they discovered
identical gifts, and their eyes went wide.
"A magic rabbit vibrator," said Jessica.
"Every girl's best friend," said Abigail. "Trust me, you're going to love
them."
And when she eventually found time alone to test this, Jessica found that
it was so.
**********************
To be continued....
**********************
Notes:
This episode was going to contain the entirety of the twins' visit home,
but what with real world demands cutting into my writing time at the
moment, I've decided to split their visit in two and post what you've
read instead. A month between episodes is too long.
Arisha
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