Hello,

I'm delighted you're interested to learn about my high school days, which have just finished – my recollections of a young girl learning the real meaning of 'life,' discovering those innocent teenage joys of sexual pleasure, losing my virginity, and leaving school very 'sexually active.'

The school I attended is a private school, hours and hours away from home. It's a girl's boarding school and it's highly regarded throughout the world by those who know of it. And, basically, it aims to totally educate and to produce 'well rounded' young ladies.

So it's a school about life, preparing us for life.

And, as you'll discover, it's very different to 'your average high school.'

In our first years at school, for example, we learned about what would happen to us over the years ahead. Yes, we'd learn English, History, Maths, Science, but in our final year we'd also be taught how to be a 'real lady,' and all the skills that are required of a maturing female and ultimately a likely wife and mother.

And those lessons in our last year of school include things that are normally not taught in high school at all – like how to have and give great sex, and how to really make love.

The school – very unusually for a school - accepts that young ladies have sexual needs and wants. It also accepts that these are natural needs. And it believes is that it is not the school's role to arbitrarily restrict our sexual activity simply because a vocal minority of people consider these needs or wants as 'wrong' or 'inappropriate'.

So there are no school rules relating to anything that is of no real concern to the school. But, as was explained to us, we (and the school) were obliged to abide by the laws of the country and, while we were still relying on our parents, we girls were asked to respect any of our parents' specific wishes.

So, for example, it was explained to us that once we became sexually 'legal' (arrived at the age when the law recognised our right to have consensual sexual intercourse), the school would have no objection to us having sex unless our parents explicitly requested otherwise.

The school was even liberally-minded enough to provide us with rooms with double beds from the time we became 'legal,' and provided breakfast to any young man who we then invited to overnight in our rooms.

Sensibly, though, every young man had to first attend an extended interview with the Head before he was granted a 'passport' which allowed him into a girl's room. The Head also ensured he knew exactly what he could and could not do within the school ("no touching, no eyeing other girls") and – as I was to discover later – ensured that he knew how to properly look after a lady!

From a young girl's perspective, it was fabulous being taught about 'life' at school. We learned far more than we would ever have learned at home simply because we were not being taught things as individuals, but as part of a group of similar age (and sexually eager!) girls, and we were not being schooled by our parents with whom it would been very difficult to discuss our personal experiences and feelings, and many of the topics we discussed at school (such as the best sex aids to use, the best ways to masturbate).

And we were all very aware of what was happening to the girl living in the room next door or just down the corridor: we would all be very aware when she had just surrendered her virginity, or know she had a steady boyfriend who was screwing her madly every Friday, Saturday and Sunday night...and perhaps also during the day on Saturday or Sunday.

And, of course, we all quickly learned which boys offered the best lays and which boys were lousy lovers!

6pm Friday night through to 8am Monday mornings were considered 'visiting hours.' Regular boyfriends would often arrive Friday night and, in that senior year, doors along the corridor would soon be displaying 'Do Not Disturb' signs (this message being one that all girls respected, no matter whether the room occupant simply wanted to study uninterrupted, to sleep, was masturbating, or was receiving a shag!) and occasionally – as a joke – girls' doors displayed 'Man Inside' warning signs that had been borrowed from the doorway leading to our showers and toilets!

On Saturdays and Sundays many of the other local boys would also visit our school to meet girls. These local lads were fully aware of the benefits some of these girls might ultimately (and, occasionally, immediately!) provide.

The school, of course, had rules. The most important of these was that there was to be no sex at all involving a student and a staff member. Transgression meant instant expulsion for the student and instant dismissal of the staff member, plus reporting of the incident to the police. That, at times, was hard for both students and staff – especially when they were teaching us things like the finer points of how to really enjoy clitoral and vaginal stimulation.

The other rules mostly covered topics such as deliberate disobedience, insolence and disrespect for the staff or other students.

The school explained that its preferred method of discipline would have been the use of a cane – but, legally, that was not possible. So, instead, the school instituted an unusual regime of punishment and humiliation involving nudity – one that the girls happily accepted and, as we progressed through the school, a system that we girls increasingly realised had certain (unintended) seductive qualities available within it!

A first visit or two to the Head's office usually resulted in a 'friendly chat'. After that, the 'friendly chat' would be held with the teenage girl standing ('appropriately embarrassed, as a result of your thoughtless action') topless in front of the Principal. Further transgressions would result in her answering to him while she was standing there totally naked, and perhaps then being instructed to stand in the corridor outside his office for a set time – once again in the buff, with hands on head, so that there was no way of hiding her tits or private bits from the gaze of any passer-by.

This, no doubt, occasionally causing a male teacher to develop a spontaneous, unwanted erection!

And the ultimate punishment, which the girls jokingly referred to as 'the nip and

nipples punishment', required the offender to stand completely naked in front of an assembled male staff for an hour or so on a Friday evening whilst the men enjoyed nips of Scotch and, intermittently, verbally humiliated the girl for what she was publicly, unwillingly exhibiting.

I can tell you from experience, there is nothing worse than having to front up to a chemistry lesson on a Monday morning to be greeted by a man who, just days earlier, has suggested to his colleagues that you had a 'pretty ordinary-looking twat' ('you cunt,' I immediately thought to myself, particularly as I was quite proud of my oh-so-narrow, newly-acquired landing strip!)...which the other teachers had then all agreed was, indeed, the case.

I and the other girls soon got used to the school's revolutionary attitude to nudity. We were permitted, if not encouraged, to roam free around the school in the afternoons, once school had finished and all visitors had been cleared from the site. We could do so topless, stark naked, or wearing just our panties and bra if we chose to do so.

It did not take long to for us to get used to the occasional male staff member passing by of an afternoon, seemingly unconcerned and unaffected by our nakedness. And our seeing a naked girl walking from the showers to her bedroom, or from her bedroom to the showers, became a very common sight.

The swimming pool also had several 'nature' sessions available each week which I would often avail myself of, because there is nothing more sensual than being able to swim totally naked.

I earlier mentioned the cane. That, too, featured in perhaps the most surprising occurrence of my school years.

In our final year, we had long discussions about the role that BDSM could play in our sex lives and in our future relationships, and how physical pain could actually add to female sexual pleasure.

It still came as something of a surprise to then learn that the school actually encouraged us to sample the experience of being 'disciplined' with a tawse, with a paddle or with a cane – an experience, of course, the school was no longer able to deliver to us as part of its regular disciplinary regime.

And, of course, we could not now receive a beating within the school grounds, so arrangements were made to take interested girls to town for a 'discipline' session with 'Dave the Disciplinarian.'

We were, by now, quite mature and many of us had established relationships with young men from the area. So it was also suggested to us that we could visit Dave alone to feel the tawse, paddle or cane (or any combination thereof) make contact with our bare backsides, or we could invite our boyfriends along to witness our chosen 'punishment' and, while we were there, to then avail ourselves of the opportunity of administering the same 'punishment' to our boyfriends.

Perhaps surprisingly – but not really surprisingly having been a student for a number of years at this quite liberal school! – most girls opted to sample this real-pain 'punishment' that was offered to them.

Some girls were brave enough to sample the tawse, the paddle and the cane. And some girls DID take their boyfriends along to their appointment.

I subsequently learned that those who were to whack their boyfriend's bare bottoms during these sessions felt that this was one of the most empowering, most satisfying experiences they had ever had – especially as, invariably, the boys had developed hard-ons whilst first watching their girlfriend bent over, nude, accepting a brutal bruising of her dainty derrière.

Perhaps not surprisingly those erections were very quickly suppressed!

I decided to sample the cane. I'm not sure why I chose the cane – perhaps I thought it would be 'cleaner' and likely to inflict a more local, if more intense, pain.

And I certainly did not invite anyone to witness my likely humiliation.

I expected pain.

And pain is what I received!

Dave made me remove my pants and panties – and, humiliatingly, he closely watched me nervously undress - then instructed me to 'touch your toes' and rapidly administered two no-holds-barred strokes of the cane to my bare backside.

I involuntarily screamed as each stroke hit its mark.

He wasn't playing games – he was doing this to inflict real pain to me! (And, as I noticed from the obvious bulge that rapidly developed in his crotch during my short visit, it was doing something to him as well!)

I had felt nothing like that pain before. I immediately burst into tears as two parallel welts rapidly developed across my buttocks.

Showering that night was excruciating...and it was at least a week before I could again sit comfortably.

But I now understand 'real pain.' And, strangely, I did experience a little indescribable sexual excitement as I went into Dave's to receive the cane...and, immediately afterwards, I was certain that receiving a good shot of cum from a cock up my vagina would have been exactly the right salve for what I had just endured.

Bizarrely, I look on it as a badge of honour that I am one of very few girls who can now boast 'I received two cuts of the cane on my bare backside while I was at school.'

Those final-year BDSM 'Life' lessons were probably one extreme in the range of things we were taught – but they were extremely popular. So popular, in fact, that the class asked if we could organise a short midnight BDSM party on the last evening of that term.

The school had no reason not to agree to our request. And the BDSM 'Life' teacher (a younger female member of staff) volunteered to supervise. I was elected to a small committee that organised a box-full of BDSM necessities for the party.

The evening was an absolute hoot. The whole year dressed (or undressed!) for it – so there were lots of suspenders and stockings, outrageous red frilly panties, and numerous pairs of bare breasts on display!

The riding crop was put to frequent use on asses, between legs, and on nipples.

And one girl, as 'punishment' for arriving with an overly hairy twat, volunteered to be stripped naked and to be tied down with her arms and legs spreadeagled.

A couple of other girls eventually squatted between her splayed legs, gleefully pissed on her conspicuously exposed cunt and then burst out giggling – which promoted the supervising teacher to call 'lights out' on the evening when she finally realised how much the party had degenerated!!

Really the only thing missing from the party was available cock and free-flowing alcohol – which surely would have only transformed the party into an unrestrained orgy!

School was not always like that. We studied our fair share of mundane maths, science, history, English, music, art, economics and other things...but the school knew that we had been in their care for much of our formative years so took the attitude that it would also have to educate and guide us in other ways and to talk to us about things that, if we were living at home, our parents might (or might not) discuss with us.

'Life' classes were invariably the most popular classes. In these we learned to cook, to clean, to sew...and, in general, how to keep house...personal grooming and beauty ('men prefer girls with neatly timed pubes. You may get a last-minute invite to a party where everyone then goes skinny dipping, so it pays to always be at the ready' – which resulted in a very high proportion of girls in my year sporting Brazilians or otherwise well-trimmed bush) ...the trials and pleasures of being married and being a parent...how to budget...how to shop...and a whole slew of practical things such as how to dump a boyfriend in a friendly, gentle way, right through to how to give yourself multiple orgasms.

And those 'Life' classes that in some way related to sex were especially popular.

In junior years we had been taught about the 'birds and bees' facts of life in Biology, about contraception...and girls had enquired (accompanied by lots of girlish giggling) about masturbation.

Having learned that 'playing with yourself' was natural, normal and enjoyable, I can remember frigging myself frequently – in bed, in the shower and occasionally in boring English lessons when I would have a hand in my panties giving myself a good little rub.

In the senior year there was absolutely no topic that was considered taboo.

At various times we discussed love and sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, losing your virginity, BDSM, fisting, big cocks and small cocks, how many times a night?, how to avoid being considered a slut, prostitution as a career and as a way of making money, sex toys, erotica and pornography, orgassssms (mmm!), multiple orgasms, catering to men's needs and desires, how to ensure a man gives you what you really want, foreplay, sexual etiquette ('letting your best girlfriend's man screw you is fraught with dangers. What if he discovers you provide a better screw than does your girlfriend?'), sexual diseases, sex games, different sex 'positions,' and many other intriguing topics.

Sometimes these classes were taught by a teacher. But most topics were assigned to individual girls or groups of girls to 'research and report.' That was homework we really enjoyed!

It seemed to be assumed by both the school, and the girls at the school, that you would lose your virginity soon after becoming 'legal', so 'how to' was certainly discussed around then, and it was also suggested that this might be an appropriate time for all of us to consider receiving a contraceptive implant.

Not this this was the only contraception available to us. Everyone in the school knew where they could pick up condoms when needed. And, if all else failed, we all knew the school Nurse had a small supply of Morning After Pills in her emergency kit!

In my case, I surrendered my virginity shortly after I became 'legal.'

I'd been interested in Matt for some time, and he was soon pushing for us to make love. I rebuffed his advances until I was absolutely sure I was quite ready for 'the big day' – even promising him, after he had called me a prick-tease, that if he waited a little longer I would certainly give him the honour of popping my cherry.

He had a school passport to my room, and I'd taken him there numerous times to enjoy long pashes and to allow his hands to play in my panties. I'd even sucked his cock a couple of times, causing him to cum - once into my mouth (yuk!) and at other times into a hand-towel that we had at the ready.

So I knew what I was going to receive!

Not that that eased my apprehension. I remember thinking at the time that Matt's cock was huge and wondered how on earth Matt would be able to get it in (as it turns out, his was actually a very average-size erection). And I'd learned in class, and from other girls, that first-time was likely to be painful and I might bleed – so I feared the worst.

We did it in the Missionary Position on my bed.

There was no blood. But it hurt. Yes, it hurt! Matt was a little rougher than I'd hoped and, I suspect, a little over-eager to get inside and shoot his cum load into pussy.

But, despite the pain, at last I'd experienced what it was like to have cock in vagina, and had finally 'become a real woman' by surrendering my virginity, having been fucked, been deflowered, been screwed, lost my virtue, lost my chastity, been defiled, gone all the way, fornicated, made out...or whatever is the best way of describing it! Yeah!

And I could now add my name, the date, and 'by Matt' to the 'Deflowered Here' list on the inside bottom of my desk drawer – a permanent record of one 'right of passage' for girls at this school, and a record that it appears has become something of a historic 'school tradition' in each of the senior girls' rooms. (I'd previously noted that there was no entry for the previous year, so wondered about that. And I was intrigued by two girls' names alongside two different boys' names with the same date a few years back, and wondered whether two close friends had decided they would lose their virginities simultaneously or whether it was a case of 'I'll let you watch, if you let me watch' deflorations.)

I remember missing dinner that night and, as I was escorting Matt to his car, noticed that a 'Man Inside' sign had mysteriously hung itself on the doorknob of my room. And next morning, at breakfast, I had to (somewhat proudly) admit to my girlfriends that 'I lost it last night' – which immediately generated 'congratulations, you've joined the club' and, perhaps unfair, 'you'd better get on with it' ribbings of those who remained virgins.

I'd be surprised if any girl (other than possibly the lesbian or two in our year) ultimately left that school with their virginity!

As an aside, Matt and I subsequently made out each weekend for the next couple of months, until I decided it was time I started to get the feel other cocks filling my vagina.

So, in the last months of school, I became a bit of a slut – playing with, being played-with by a different guy each weekend. School work then became confined to weekdays...but weekends were fun! There again, I reasoned, I'd only be young once...and school willingly provided a room in which I could enjoy as much sex as any schoolgirl could want...so why not??!!

So, what else would you now like me to tell you about school?

* * * * *

Several months before our final exams, every girl in final year received an invitation from a local resort to a 'recovery week' event to be held after the exams at that resort. We were expecting these – 'recovery week' was an annual event for those leaving our school. It was obviously paid-for in some way by the school, but this was never admitted (so that it was not a school event, and we had by-then officially left school so school rules no longer applied) and it was presented as a resort-initiated event.
We girls, and all the school staff who were also invited, commonly called this 'cunt camp.'

There would be lots of relaxing, lots of drinking, lots of playing around, and we girls 'could take the opportunity to thank the staff for what they have done for us in whatever way we chose.'

Needless to say, all the male staff (whether in a relationship or not) were there, as were a few of the female staff.

I'd decided I would try to intimately thank a few of the staff. I had my eye on one of the sports masters in particular. And I (and probably most other girls) felt we perhaps should thank the Headmaster – although he, having had most of us at some time stand before him at some time unwillingly exposing our private parts, would probably have come to cunt camp knowing exactly who he would most like to provide a 'farewell fuck' to, so I realised feeling his cock in my vagina just may not happen. And, I had decided, there was no way my chemistry teacher was going to get inside my 'pretty ordinary-looking twat!'

The Activities Officer at the resort welcomed us over drinks and suggested first activity should be an informal barbecue and, for those who were willing, a skinny-dip in the pool. She felt sure that this would be the ideal way to start the week.

Well, that was tame...and, looking objectively at 'recovery week,' things just got more intimate from that point on.

'Cunt camp' certainly did live up to its name!

There was lots and lots of cunt on display (not that that was a novel experience for the girls who, after all, had frequently seen our schoolmates and fellow boarders naked) and the male school staff were now also more-than-willing to display their assets.

And I suspect that even the least appealing girl who wanted 'a bit' would have been well-poked at least once during that week. Eager girls and the more attractive girls would have received a lot more than that.

Realising that Ed the Sports Master was likely to be in demand that week, I headed straight to him once we jumped into the pool.

'I'm in need of some urgent attention tonight,' I suggested. 'Could you come to my room later?'

'I was hoping you'd invite me to,' Ed replied. 'But I've already promised to look after another girl tonight. How about tomorrow morning straight after breakfast?' he enquired.

'That's a date," I replied. 'But can I be greedy and also reserve you overnight tomorrow?' I asked.

'Sure,' Ed responded.

'And every other night?' I said cheekily, pushing my luck.

'Bookings are only open 24 hours in advance,' he replied. 'And, anyway, you might think I'm a lousy lover...so I'll catch you at breakfast tomorrow.'

Ed is one of the younger teachers. I'm very interested in sport, so we had seen quite a bit of one another at school. We got on extremely well and I'd tease him from time to time (he brazenly called me 'my little nymphet' on one occasion, so after that I always referred to myself, when talking to him, as 'your little nymphet').

I must admit, I'd had the hots for him on more than one occasion. Oh, how I then yearned for him to get inside my pants! – no, for him to just rip them off and...

And I suspect I may have caused him to develop an erection once or twice. I'm absolutely sure he'd seen me naked (at my nips and nipple punishments, at least), which I hope had turned him on - but until that night in the pool at cunt camp I had not seen what had kept hidden in his gym shorts.

And I was not disappointed by what I discovered. Ed is well hung – with the sort of tool every girl dreams of. He is handsome and he is fit. And he is single – so I'd not feel any of that guilt, that seems to be inbuilt in all girls, when they have (or try to have) an affair with another girl's 'currently off limits' man.

So what's the next best thing for a randy girl do if the man of your choice is screwing a classmate? See if someone else who is acceptable is interested, of course.

I was out of luck. My next two preferences were 'otherwise engaged.'

So I took Ed to bed with me in my imagination, dreaming of what he would be delivering to my 'male box' the next morning and the next evening.

Lying on my back, legs splayed, with my fingers down between my legs, I could 'feel' Ed's gentle fingers caressing my clit...his erection (a couple of my fingers substituting) travelling up and down my love tunnel pleasuring 'his' female...him feeling and tapping my engorged clitoris...exciting me...making me feel really good, really feminine...making me squirm and pant...ultimately finger frigging me to an immensely satisfying orgasm.

The next morning I experienced the real thing...from the real thing...

Offering myself, submitting myself, just making myself available to Ed so he could give me whatever he felt was best...

Oh boy, Ed knows how to make a lady feel great! He was a far better lover than any of the young men who I'd previously allowed between my legs – Ed was a 10, they were a 1 or, at best, a 2!

I very rapidly started mentally kicking myself for not having ignored the schools 'no sex with staff' rule and for not having found some way to accept regular 'remedial tutoring' from Ed. (And I knew exactly what 'remedial help' I needed!)

Ed took things very slowly. We spent perhaps an hour just kissing, embracing one another, touching, feeling, feeling, feeling – as if we were both making up for time lost. That's the sort of thing a girl (or at least I) really enjoy.

I got to handle his manhood. He got to feel my breasts...my butt...between my legs...right in between my legs. He knew where to find my clit and how to get it engorged.

And he ensured that he knew exactly where to find my g-spot...and soon had me bucking with pleasure...and just desperate to have his erection inside...deep inside.

His love-making was equally pleasurable: he went in slowly and orchestrated his thrusting and grinding so it became progressively faster, seemingly deeper, increasingly more enjoyable.

And he brought me to orgasm (oh, pure pleasure!) before finally he delivered his load of cum...and then just lay with me, embracing me, kissing me. That was pure bliss!

Ed told me, as we were showering, I was a particularly satisfying screw and, as a real compliment, asked if I was still available to spend every night of cunt camp in bed with him.

Was I ever?

He even said he was embarrassed, and apologised to me, for feeling obliged to service several other of my classmates during the day, each remaining day of Camp. 'Oh yeh!' I thought to myself!

Ed performed equally well in bed every night...and totally satisfied my now-rampant teenage sexual needs that week.

And, as the week progressed, I became more and more convinced that I was someone unusually special to Ed.

So cunt camp for me (and my c...!!) became the real highlight of all my school years!

And I'm now seriously thinking about enrolling at a different university, to be in the same area for a few more years...to enable my relationship with Ed to perhaps progress.

I'll keep you updated about what happens.