Umm Ed, I was in the local pub the other day – you know, “The Gilded Ostrich”, and I found a diary. Naturally, a diary is a secret, precious thing that should be treated like a sacred document. So here it is.

Qmoq

Wednesday 17th May

Found another bra in the dorms. Why these girls are careless enough to leave their underwear in their lockers, I’ll never know. Still, Ed seemed pleased when I presented it to him, so some lass is not going to sit down for a week. Mmm. I know who I hope it is.

That new teacher arrives on Friday, Miss Sanchez or something. Ed seems very keen on her, but her list of requirements for her office seems long, to say the least. Why she needs a cabinet for her canes, I’ll never know: Ed just puts his in an umbrella stand made from an elephant’s foot, and polishes them with the fur from a cat he ran over once. And he’s had no complaints.

Thursday 18th May

Ach. I got her name wrong, it’s Miss Gonzales. Miss Marie Gonzales. Bet she’s got a stick up her ass, they all do, these young teachers.

Friday 19th May

Bless my old bones, I think I’m in love. Or at lust, at least. Miss Marie Gonzales is simply the most delectable creature that I have ever seen: from every angle she could produce drool at twenty paces. If she’s got a stick up her ass, my only problem would be that she’s not asked me to lick it yet. Or be it. Oh my, how I would love to bend her forwards over her desk, and slide my cock deep into that ass of hers, reaching over to squeeze her tits at the same time. She’s young, Mexican, jet-black hair that frames her pretty face and pixie nose, atop which she wears a permanent set of wide-rimmed glasses that suit her perfectly. And that body. Oh my lord. Got a kinda healthy Salma Hayek vibe about her, which can’t be bad. Ed introduced her this morning, and he had a damn filthy grin on his face too, don’t you know. Lucky bastard. She teaches General Studies, which is a waste of fricking time if you ask me, but I tell you, that woman could general my studies any day.

Monday 22nd May

Nope. I’ve looked at this for three days now and still don’t know what “general my studies” means. But my passion for Miss Gonzales mounts.

I walked past her lesson today, and saw her in action. She has a lot going for her, I couldn’t keep my eyes away as she reached up to write some words on the blackboard. She may have been writing something most profound: I didn’t see it. I only saw the tender, small hand that cradled the chalk, the slim, pretty wrist it was attached to. Her smart little business suit deserves a mention, it fitted her and showed off all her curves, yet wasn’t suited for a teacher that reached up too much. Even from my distance, I could see the tight skirt hitch up and reveal her stockingtop.

The girls were being their usual selves. Cariad was flicking elastic bands at Jennyfer, and Seababy was looking out of the window – she gave me a wink when she saw me. Only Suchaminx actually appeared to be doing any work, writing studiously, until I saw what she had written, when she stuck a note that read “Tawse Me” on Seababy’s back.

But when Miss Gonzales turned around, and fixed the girls with a stare, they all snapped rigidly to position, primly putting their shoulders back and producing tremendous strain on that third button. When she turned back to the blackboard, all the girls paid much more attention. Seababy darted her eyes in my direction, and raised an eyebrow at me, but was too scared to wink again.

I love her. Miss Gonzales, I mean. Not Seababy, though she’s nice too.


Tuesday 23rd May

Well, yesterday I thought I loved her. Today I only think I think I love her. She passed me in the canteen and seemed a little hoity-toity, snapping “I need to see you on Thursday in my office at five.” Even so, she held herself with a delicate grace, and that arse was still as edible as ever.

Wednesday 24th May

Had to clean the girls’ toilets today, the graffiti is disgraceful. I reported it verbatim to Ed, who nodded, said “Ooo that’s a good one,” and wrote it down. I was truly disappointed when I realised that cleaning it up meant I missed Miss Gonzales take the girls on a four mile run through the rain. I got a note from her though, which reminded my of our appointment. I held it to my bosom, then stuck it deep into my pockets, though I admit I was a bit uncertain.

Thursday 25th May

I hate her. God damn.

I went to her office at five, as requested, and without even saying hello or offering me a cup of tea, she asked me how often her office was cleaned. When I said it was cleaned once every three days, she hissed that this was nowhere near good enough, and it should be cleaned once a day, at least. Silly tart doesn’t realised I’d have to do it myself, not since two of the girls got caught with the cleaning staff. Then Miss Gonzales had the temerity to order her a large cabinet for her canes, and was quite specific about it.

“It cannot be more than four foot high or two foot wide, otherwise the canes would look silly hanging there.”

“If I got you a taller cabinet, you could chuck other things in the bottom. The punishment vibrators, for instance, are a pain in the doo-dah to keep anywhere, but they’d be perfect down th-”

“You silly little man,” she interrupted. “I am a pro-fess-io-nal woman. I do not cast my possessions into the bottom of a cupboard, I treat them with respect.”

Something in the way she emphasised each syllable of the word ‘professional’ made my blood boil, but I held my tongue.

“Well?” she continued. “Aren’t you going to measure the floor to make sure it can fit?”

I stared at her, perturbed but determined to show that I was a pro-fess-io-nal too. I got down on all fours, and shuffled to the wall, tape-measure in hand. She ignored me, of course, which was handy in one respect. I looked at her stockinged legs under her desk, just as she crossed them. Oh my, that flash of white panties made it all worthwhile, and the contrast against her dusky brown thighs was astonishing.

Without looking up from her papers, she called out. “Well, do you have anything that could fit in there?”

I stood up, and looked at the measurement. “Yes, Miss Gonzales. I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“See that you do,” she replied.