1 comments/ 36007 views/ 4 favorites Leda & Swanne By: Hubee Leda had the misfortune to have a surname that started with an 'A', so she sat right at the front of the class, under the teacher's nose. She had good fortune to be pretty and well developed for her age. Having just turned 18, she looked older than her classmates in the all-girl school she attended. Swanne had the misfortune to be the only male teacher at the school, a major break with 150 years proud tradition, and the cause of much muttering from the other teachers, spinsters, virtually to a 'man', and 10 years older at least. He had the good fortune to be 'not ugly'. Not handsome, just 'not ugly'. Which was enough to fuel more than a few teenage fantasies amongst his students. She was the closest thing the school had to a tart. She was curvy and moved in a way that showed she knew it. She wore make-up, discretely, as well as perfume. Both were explicitly banned in the lengthy list of school rules. But these infractions paled into insignificance when compared to her flouting of the school's uniform code. In this area she was a legend in her own lunchtime, the subject of admiration, jealousy and desire in almost equal parts. The uniform should have consisted of - Pleated woollen skirt, to the knees. - Thick 'bullet proof' tights in summer and winter - White cotton blouse, long sleeved and buttoned to the neck. - Striped tie. - Underwear had to be of the most utilitarian design, big, baggy and practical. Is it a wonder that she ignored the rules? Instead of wearing what she was meant too Leda likes to make a few variations. Perhaps you would like to know how Leda gets ready for school? Shall we watch? Leda stumbles through her morning, waving goodbye as her parents leave for work. Watching until their cars are completely out of sight, she moves away from the window and pads softly to her parent's bedroom, excitement building with every step. "NOW I can raid Mummy's vanity!" she says to herself. Leda's mother, Claire had every hue of lip rouge, every kind of mascara and eye shadows. She stands before the door, and opens it slowly, as though about to enter a holy shrine. Ahh! There is the altar. The altar that she will worship when she is no longer a child, when she becomes a woman. Crystal atomisers filled with heavenly scents stand in a row like receptacles of holy water. "These are the things 'Claire' wears that make men's faces light up at Daddy's parties," she thinks, savouring the irreverence of referring to her mother by her first name. She uncaps "Wantonly Red" lipstick but forlornly remembers school rules. Replacing the cap, she rubs the cherry-flavoured lip-gloss across her lips, instead. This is quickly followed by a bit of powder on the cheeks and a little mascara on the lashes. (Although in this case 'a little mascara' might not be the description used by someone with a little more experience in applying the stuff.) Pleased with her face, but not her "look," she rolls up the waistband of her uniform skirt until it's much shorter than regulation, but shows her legs more flatteringly. She turns. Profiles. With a sigh, she realises that even thrusting out her chest doesn't quite give her the look she knows will come one day. "They'll grow," her mother had reassured her. "Yes, but when??" she wonders. Again, with a sense of awe and excitement, Leda opens the doors to the French armoire where Claire's "delicates," are stored in lilac-fragranced compartments. She takes out a wisp of silk, nothing like the coarse panties that she's forced to wear, and without hesitation, slips out of the offensive garment and dons the soft, tiny piece of cloth that just covers the hairs that have just recently sprouted. A matching bra beckons her, and she quickly whips off her blouse and clumsy camisole. The underwired, padded bra gives her the look she's yearned for. Before pulling her blouse back on and buttoning it, she gazes into the mirror once more, feeling deliciously naughty. The cups of the bra just barely reach her rosy buds. With a bit more daring, she yanks off the thick black tights of the school uniform, and luxuriates in the caress of her mother's silk stockings as she slides them on over her legs. 'I'm 18 now, I'm grown up,' she grumbles to herself. 'Why can't I wear grown up lingerie?' Just as she's about to try on a pair of her mother's high heels, a loud 'HONK' breaks the spell. 'Damn, Jenkins.' With a resigned sigh, she dashes off to hurry downstairs before her driver decides to come to the door. If she's late again, he WILL inform her parents, he'd warned. This is how Leda went to school that day. Considering what she was meant to wear are you surprised that she longed to look a little prettier, a little sexier? Dare I say it, a little more experienced? But appearances can deceive. She was, by a strict definition at least, still a virgin. He was, by no definition, a virgin. But this fact caused him no pleasure. His feelings about sex could probably only be described as twisted. It would take too long here to delve into his past, his youth, to discover the causes of this twisting. Suffice to say that he considered sexual urges sinful yet, with a not uncommon irony, they raged strongly in his blood. His ideas of women were 'Old Testament' to say the least. He viewed them as the cause of all sin, a source of temptation. They were to blame for the impulses he felt building inside him. If they didn't dress 'that way', or look suggestively at him, or talk provocatively, then he would not be torn by these torments of passion. Every woman was, in his mind, a harlot and his life was a constant struggle to avoid the snares and lures of these emissaries of Satan. If not Satan, then it must have been another deity with a devilish sense of humour who brought these two together. Let us see them now, in class. Events are coming to a head. It's all she can do to pay the slightest bit of attention in class. Unaccustomed to the fine undergarments, she finds herself constantly distracted by the silk's soft caress. Her eyes fall upon Mr. Swanne. Tilting her head to one side, she imagines that he is handsome, in a strange sort of way. His ice blue eyes seem to pierce through her as he frowns in her direction. She smiles to herself. "He's frowning so none of the other students will know that he likes me," she muses. Her fingers twirl a wayward strand of hair, and she runs it between her lips. Lips. Studying his lips, wondering what it would feel like to... The subject of the lesson is immaterial. What is material is that Leda is not paying attention. Swanne is a good teacher. His bottled up emotions manifest themselves in an intensity of delivery that is usually gripping. But Leda is daydreaming. Swanne is all too aware that his student is not paying attention. He is all too aware of everything that Leda does, or doesn't, do. Right now, as he strives to continue talking in a normal voice, he is aware of a number of things. For example, he knows that the girl's blouse is not buttoned all the way to the neck. In fact is probably not buttoned half way up. From his raised dais at the front of the class it is all too easy to look into the shadowed crevice of her cleavage, revealed by this state of undress. He curses his overheated imagination for suggesting that her breasts look larger this day. How can that be? The tugged down mess that is her tie seems to draw his eyes back to where they should not look. He can feel beads of sweat across his top lip, although the day is not warm. As Leda stares out the window her knees have fallen apart beneath her desk. Unconscious of how much of her inner thigh she is showing to her teacher she twirls a finger in a strand of hair. Swanne is also very conscious of Leda's hair. Her wavy blonde tresses resist all attempts at control and restraint. Even today's pig-tails make little difference. To the teacher this hair looks dishevelled by carnal activity, rather than, the true reason, lack of attention. Swanne also knows that the girl's skirt is not the regulation length; nowhere near the regulation length. A hundred times he has pictured just how short is 'too' short. Sometimes, when his control slips, he imagines actually measuring the gap between knee and hem. Resting the cold brass tip of the tape measure against her knee and then running the tape up her downy thigh...up...up.... He stops striding across the front of the classroom, pausing in mid sentence, trying to regain his composure. He can feel one of his 'migraines' coming on. It is as a hot metal band is being tightened around his head. The chalkboard duster he has been clutching whistles through the air and, barely missing Leda, bounces of the wall. 'MISS LEDA!!!!', he bellows, causing several of the girls to shriek in surprise and fright, 'Can you tell me what I have been talking about for last 15 minutes?' The scared girl stares back at him, wide eyed, stunned and silent. 'None of your dumb insolence girl! Can you?' The room stands still, the world stops spinning on its axis. Even the motes of chalk dust, illuminated in the slanting early afternoon sunshine, cease their movement. Startled into reality, Leda struggles to snatch at words that her ears must have heard but that she somehow can't seem to put together. She stares at him blankly. 'No Sir.' The answer is a whisper, but in that silence a pin drop would be akin to thunder. Leda sits, head downcast. Swanne studies the top her head, breathing deeply with the effort of bringing himself under control, his thoughts buzzing through his mind like deranged wasps. 'In my office NOW Miss Leda. The rest of you, wait here until the bell rings and then you may go to lunch.' He strides to the door and holds it open, waiting for Leda. Slowly she rises from her desk and makes her way out of the room, unable to meet the glances of her classmates. 'He wants to be alone with me!' Her heart beats excitedly and her face burns hot. She wonders what he will do. Will he pretend to be so angry until the door is shut behind them? And then, will he suddenly smile at her? Will he touch her? Hold her in his arms? 'Imagine Mr. Swanne and me! Me, on his arm on New Year's Eve. Cooking for him and taking care of the house. And all those other things that mummy said only married people can do!!' Outside in the corridor Swanne, unable to trust his voice, gestures for Leda to precede him to his office. Their path takes them upstairs and as they climb the teacher's eyes are drawn to the girl's legs. As his gaze moves up he notices again how short her skirt is. Almost without conscious thought he slows his pace to allow her to get further ahead on the stairs so ..that... he... can..... see....... her.........STOCKINGS!!! Swanne sucks in his breath with lust at the glimpse of stocking tops. The sound causes Lead to look over her shoulder at her teacher. As she catches his amazed eyes she instantly realises what he has seen; this major, major infraction of the Uniform Code. She had forgotten about the 'panty raid' on her mother's lingerie drawer that morning, until now. (Good thing he can't see 'those' panties and bra she thinks to herself and shivers at the thought.) For a moment she holds Swanne's gaze and experiences a tumult of emotions. Shame causes her to blush pink to the roots of her hair. But at the same time a strange excitement causes her knees to tremble and her nipples to harden. For a second, she ponders the strange expression on his face. Then, slowly, she begins to think, 'He wants me! He's looking at me like Daddy looks at Mummy!' With a bit more sauciness than she should have displayed, she takes the stairs jauntily, letting her tush swish, just a little, for Mr. Swanne. She can't understand the sudden stiffness of her nipples; she certainly doesn't feel cold! She pauses at the entrance to his office, eyes downcast and still pink, till he catches her up. He is stunned to silence at the way she had just wriggled her ass at him on the stairs. 'Like a common street walker' he thinks to himself, 'in stockings no less.' He shakes his head in anger and amazement. 'That one so young should be fallen so low in the ways of sin and temptation. Trying to lead astray God-fearing men by displaying her sinful body. She must be "saved from herself", he thinks. But his mind runs on. 'Oh I'll save her all right. In a way that will make that bottom a little more difficult to gyrate by the time I've done with the tart.' As he opens the door all he can manage in the way of speech is to grunt, 'In' and she stumbles across the threshold. The noise of the heavy door slamming behind her resounds with finality. As the door thuds closed, Leda's mind stops wandering and she begins to tremble, finally having some sense of the enormity of what a 'trip to the office,' might mean. Swanne strides across the room to the window and stares out onto the playing fields. An impromptu hockey game has started and 20 or so girls are squealing and laughing in their gym-slips. Yet no sound penetrates the double glazed windows. Swanne, as the only male teacher in the school, enjoys the luxury of an office to himself. The room had previously been a servant's quarters and is tucked away under the roof of the main school building. It even affords the luxury of an en-suite bathroom, to save the school having to build additional toilets for just one man. Swanne tries to compose his thoughts, but the recent vision of this little strumpet's stocking clad upper thighs is imprinted on his mind, making concentration difficult. Eventually he finds his voice and starts talking, still looking out the window. 'You are my worst student Miss Leda. You never pay attention in my classes. This would not be so disappointing if I did not believe that you possessed some modicum of intelligence. On top of this you continue to flout the school's Uniform Code....in,...ah,...ahem,....a number of ways. I feel you need something to motivate you to concentrate, something to remind you that breaking the rules here is not acceptable. I have no alternative but to punish you. Corporal punishment is the only answer I believe.' Finally he brings himself to look at her. 'Do you understand?' He watches her as the words sink in. He can see her fear, the unshed tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, and it makes him feel powerful. Raising his voice he asks again, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND?' The slight nod of her head dislodges a single tear to trickle down her cheek. This sight causes a feeling of tightness to spread across Swanne's body. He actually stretches to relieve the tension he feels building within. That old, familiar tension. Swanne's words cut deeply. She hadn't expected him to take this severe tone. She wonders how far he will take it before he starts showing her or telling her how he REALLY feels about her. He moves close to the trembling girl and begins to circle her. Standing behind, out of sight he inhales deeply and catches a mixture of aromas. Soap and cheap perfume, shampoo and chewing gum. Cherry flavoured lip-gloss? To his senses the combination is very exciting. It smells like...innocence. Knowing that standing behind her makes the girl uncomfortable also excites him; so he stays where he is, revelling in her fear. The more scared and weak she becomes the stronger he feels. Leda can feel his presence behind her, before her, beside her. The feather light graze of his breath on her exposed neck makes inexplicable goose bumps cascade across her shoulders and arms. She suddenly feels very small. Swanne leans forward till his mouth is beside her ear. 'I saw what you are wearing, as we climbed the stairs. The Code says that you must wear tights at all times. So why are you wearing the apparel of a prostitute?' Leda is too scared to answer. 'Are you a prostitute Leda?' The girl flinches as this question hisses into her ear. 'Nn...n...ooo Sir.' She finally manages to answer. The teacher moves in front of her, still very close. He takes Leda's quivering chin in his hand and raises her face so that she must meet his gaze. Studying her from a foot away he drawls, 'Lipstick........... mascara... ...rouge. You wear make-up like a whore as well.' He roughly runs his thumb across her full lips, smearing the girl's lipstick across her cheek, bruising lips against teeth. This minor abuse, this first contact, makes Leda tremble with emotions that she is unable to recognise. She is stunned, unable to comprehend what is happening to her. It wasn't like she thought it would be, but, he did touch her lips. It was the first time that a man had touched her lips. Relatives don't count. She moves her legs slightly, trying to loosen the wet silk from between her legs. Wet. How did that happen she wonders? Worried that in her fear, she might have..."leaked." The exaggerated slowness of Swanne's speech does nothing to mask the pressure building within his body. 'You look like a whore Leda.' She shakes her head. 'Is that what you would like to be Leda? A street walker?' Head shake. 'Would you like me to treat you like a whore Leda?' Voice growing louder and rising in pitch. 'IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?' The schoolgirl is too scared to cry and merely shakes her head, trying to articulate the huge 'No' that is stuck in her throat. Leda's eyes grow as big as saucers. He said the 'H' word! He called HER the "H" word! Leda may be unsure of the meaning of the word (or it's spelling), but she has a pretty good idea. She struggles to take it all in. 'Is this what a whore feels like?' she wonders. 'Am I?? Am I a whore?' The question is too big for her. This isn't what she expected at all. A flurry of thoughts flies through her head as she recalls...impure thoughts, mostly about Mr. Swanne. Her tongue seems to have been suddenly fastened to the roof of her mouth. Swanne turns away, satisfied. His enjoyment of this control over his pupil manifests itself in an erection that strains against his trousers and a continuing desire to stretch away his tension By now it is already too late to change the course of events. Swanne has stepped onto a path that permits no turning back. Were we able to stop him now, to question him, he would deny that what happened was pre-planned. He would believe his own words. Despite this belief, his fate, and that of Leda, have already been decided. Swanne takes up a four-foot length of bamboo from his desk and bends it theatrically. Leda is unable to tear her eyes from this terrifying sight. It makes her feel very 'strange'. Feeling 'strange' is how Leda thinks of the new sensations that have been assaulting her adolescent body. In her bed at home after her mother has switched off her light, she has been having trouble sleeping because of these 'strange' feelings. She has found, upon waking from troubling dreams, a dampness in and around her private parts. But she has been listening to the older girls whispering and has an idea what causes this 'strangeness'. Hearing more gossip, and aided by some surreptitious experimentation in the bath, she has taught herself how to relieve these strange feelings. But now she is feeling VERY 'strange', all sort of 'tingly'. Her eyes are riveted to the bamboo rod. Swallowing dryly, the strange mix of feelings make her feel like a deer caught in the headlights. A part of her wants to run and keep running to the safety of her room. But another part of her needs to stay and discover what causes these strange new feelings. This part wants to surrender responsibility and complete the journey that has begun, having no more say in the final destination than a leaf in a stream. Swanne swishes the cane backwards and forwards in the air as Leda watches, fascinated. 'I think the cane might be a little severe under these circumstances.' He says before placing the device, reluctantly, back on the desk. Leda & Swanne Leda is amazed to realise that she feels almost disappointed at this announcement. The 'tingly' feeling starts to recede. 'I think', he continues, 'that a spanking will be sufficient today.' At this pronouncement Leda's feelings of strangeness instantly return, intensified. 'Yes, across my lap for a spanked bottom should be sufficient.' He adds. To her astonishment Leda finds that, almost instantly, her panties have become very damp. So new is this experience that for a horrible moment she thinks she must have wet herself. Her mind and body are in turmoil, totally lost in this welter of new feelings and experiences. Internally she hears a tiny voice wailing, 'What is happening to me?' But externally all she can manage is an imperceptible nod and a tiny voice that squeaks, 'Of course Sir. Whatever you think best.' But, all she can think of, is the fact that her body will be in contact with his. His hand will touch part of her 'private parts.' The sublime wickedness of this idea fills her mind. Swanne sinks into his chair behind the huge desk and motions the girl towards him. As she moves closer he pushes the chair back to make room for her. She stops, trembling, at his side. Gently, almost pityingly, he guides her, taking her upper arm and steadying her as she stoops to lie across his lap. Soon he can feel her entire, insubstantial weight across his legs. Her recently budded breasts are crushed against his thigh and the feeling causes his cock to stiffen even further. It must be pressing into her stomach and he finds himself wondering if she has ever been this close to a penis before. The thought makes him shiver. She obeys as though she had no will of her own, laying her body across his lap, almost like a sacrifice. Strange stirrings beneath her body excite her. She isn't sure why, but, she likes the sensation. For another endless moment he pauses, savouring the anticipation. After the glimpse he got on the stairs he knows the little trollop is wearing stockings. But he tries to picture what her ass will look like before he gets to see it 'in the flesh'. He also knows that the delay will make the girl on his lap all the more fearful. The very air seems to stand still. For an eternity, Leda lays trembling, expecting something to happen, not knowing what they something will be, but...nothing! She trembles in fear, and yet, the interminable silence is so unnerving, she almost prays that he will administer her punishment swiftly! A new twist to increase her fear and shame springs into his mind. 'Pull your skirt up for me Leda so that I can spank your bottom.' He waits and watches as a shaky hand reaches back and grasps the hem of her skirt. As she lifts the material her lacy stocking tops come into view, then the bare white flesh of her thighs, then another treat from Mommie's lingerie drawer -- a tiny, silky g-string. The sight is almost too much for Swanne. His penis unfurls into full erection in an instant. At the same time a red mist of lust and anger starts building across the teacher's sight. 'Temptress!' he whispers loudly. Through clenched teeth he shouts quietly, 'JEZABEL!' The words strike out at her and land as surely as physical blows. Tears stinging in her tightly shut eyes, full of shame and fright, Leda senses something else in the teacher's voice. It isn't just anger, but, whatever it is, it makes her quiver. Without conscious thought he raises his hand and brings it down across the schoolgirl's left buttock. Her young ass is firm and unblemished. Slim, almost boyish, yet still curvy, without a trace of teenage puppy fat. To any other man it would seem like the perfect bottom but Swanne seeks to improve it with the livid imprints of his hand. He can hear the girl moaning and crying, begging him to stop. He can sense her biting her knuckles to quieten the cries. But he can also feel her wriggling in his lap, trying to manoeuvre herself closer his hardness. Trying to 'scratch' this overwhelming new 'itch' that she can feel in her most secret places. At first heat is all she feels. Inexplicable heat! Then a sudden flush of sensations, there! She had only felt that way in her bathtub when she had let her fingers stray to the same place where the demanding feelings are now engulfing her. All the while Swanne can see the other effects of the spanking. As he turns the young girl's bottom pink, then red, with his hand, he can see the cleft between her ass cheeks. He can watch as her struggles seem to suck the material of her tiny panties up into her cleft. He can see the material stretched taut over the dome of her straining vulva. But most of all he can see the wetness soaking the silk and making it transparent, revealing her young cunt to his view. A short pause, a savage tug of his hand, and the crotch of her knickers disappears between her labia. This vision inspires him to a few more savage slaps before he stops to admire his handiwork. Her pussy is split like a ripe fruit, dripping sticky juices. Her puffy, pouting lips glisten pink with wetness. Despite the fact that he has stopped the spanking Leda continues to writhe on his lap, still crying out, but not in pain. Not yet at least. Leda can taste blood in her mouth from biting the inside of her cheek. This same young mouth emits strangled sobs, not entirely due to his brutality. That savage tug that seemed to cut her in half has brought them on, along with an increase in all the strange sensations she is feeling. Her mind is made oblivious by these overpowering sensations, a transition has taken place. Leda is not thinking; she is feeling. Her only focus at this moment is the need to gain relief from the frighteningly exciting pulses throbbing through her. After a long moment she stops crying as she realises that the spanking has stopped. Her sobbing slowly lessens but the heat in her bottom continues to grow. It is so warm that she feels like her ass should be glowing. Gradually her shaking stops and Swanne, briefly satiated, tells her to stand. As she does so a small box falls from the pocket of her blouse. Swanne stoops to retrieve the packet, a cigarette packet, and stares at Leda intently. 'Do you realise how serious this infraction is?' Waving the cigarettes in her horrified face. 'You realise that you will be expelled for these don't you?' All Leda can do is shake her head from side to side, slack jawed with fear. Finally she pulls herself together enough to start muttering, 'No, no, not that, please, anything but that.' As she pleads Leda squirms, trying to extricate her panties from sticking to her skin. They are inexplicably sticky and wet, as are the upper parts of her long coltish legs. This plea excites the teacher. '"Anything" Leda? Yes I guess you would offer to do "anything" in this circumstance. Imagine the disgrace for your mother? Picture those headlines? "Anti-cigarette campaigner's daughter expelled for smoking.'' Chuckling at this conjured image Swanne continues, 'I can see the story now, "The junior Health Minister was said to be 'devastated' to learn of her daughter's expulsion from her exclusive girl's school. Her campaign to ban cigarettes is dead in the water as a result.''' Coming back from his reverie he notices Leda's shocked face. The full meaning of his words is sinking in and the blood is draining from her face, leaving her ghostly white. 'Yes it would be terrible wouldn't it Leda? You would have to do a lot in order for me to forget this. Sooooooo... you are prepared to do anything? Do you really mean that?' Leda's mind is full of the imagined scene of facing her mother under these circumstances. NOTHING could be worse than that! Eyes full of tears, she nods and whispers, 'Yes Sir, please don't expel me, please don't tell my mother. I will do anything if you don't -- I promise.' Leaning back in his chair, Swanne stretches his arms above his head and luxuriates in the feeling of power he has over the young girl. 'Very well Leda, you have promised. But I think you are going to find that your concept of "anything" is very different to mine. It will be an interesting educational opportunity' he says, smiling cruelly. 'Excuse me being blunt, young lady, but I want you to suck my cock. Do it well and I will 'forget' your indiscretion.' Swanne watches her face, waiting for the reaction, waiting for her look of shock, of fear, of disgust. Instead he sees only blank incomprehension. As he realises what this indicates he laughs out loud and asks, 'You don't know what a "cock" is do you Leda?' When she shakes her head he laughs with delight again. 'It looks like I am going to have to do more than teach the definition of "anything". And in my lunch-hour as well? What a dedicated teacher I must be. Very well young lady, time for you first lesson. Get down on your knees and crawl over here.' When Leda said that she would do anything, the worst humiliation she could imagine was something menial and manual such as cleaning chalkboards, or scraping gum from beneath student's desks. But, this command, to "suck his cock," has her mystified. In the back of her mind she has the tiniest inkling of what he might mean. But she pushes these thoughts away, concentrating on doing what ever it takes to avoid expulsion, avoiding bringing disgrace to her mother. Following Swanne's orders she drops to her knees, tentatively, still throbbing and pulsing from the spanking, and crawls to Swanne, thinking that this is the ultimate punishment. This position of servility, along with his threats of expulsion, serves to sober Leda. This had all started out as an innocent flaunting of the rules, a bit of harmless 'dressing up', but, feeling the floorboards beneath her knees and palms, Leda is truly contrite. She vows to herself that she will follow the school's rules from now on, and do whatever the teacher says, if only Swanne will let her stay. Swanne watches her painful progress across the floor as he undoes his belt and pulls down the fly of his trousers. He can see the expression on her face change as she begins to have some idea of what is in store for her. He thinks to himself, 'It is time this little harlot learned a lesson. If she wants to dress like a slut, then she can perform like one. That way she will realise the pitfalls of lustful, sinful behaviour.' Continuing this train of thought out loud, as if in prayer, he says. 'May the Lord give me strength to teach this fallen woman the error of her ways and lead her back to righteousness.' He finishes speaking as the girl arrives at his feet. His penis is fully exposed to her horrified eyes. Fully erect at around 9 inches it seems to visibly throb. The head, about the same size and colour as a plum, is projecting from his foreskin, A trickle of thin pre-cum oozes from the slit. 'Time for your first lesson Leda, the correct names.' Taking his cock in his hand he strokes the shaft, 'This is my cock. You may also call it a prick, no other names are permissible. What is it called?' Leda stares in stunned fascination. Her tongue seems to have stuck to the roof of her mouth as she finds herself unable to speak. But, the insistent tone of Mr. Swanne's voice and the menacing way that he shakes his...p-p-prick pulls Leda out of her stupor. "P-p-prick, Sir. Or c-c-cock." She forces the words out, barely above a whisper. 'Very good lass. It is mainly used for pissing or fucking. But we are going to do something a little different today. Which leads neatly into lesson two. You are to suck my cock as instructed before.' Dropping into his lecturer's tone of voice he continues. 'The term is a little misleading so I will explain. By 'suck' I mean that you will lick it all over the shaft and then take of much of it in your mouth as possible. Don't worry if it looks too big right now, when the time comes I'll help you out.' The evil laugh that accompanies this last statement makes Leda start to tremble all over again. 'Do you see the white stuff leaking from the end? That is called many things, you will call it by one of its correct medical names, cum, jism, or spunk. There is plenty more where that morsel has come from. Your objective is to extract as much as possible from my cock with your mouth. Do you understand? He waits for a nod from the girl kneeling between his thighs. A tiny inclination of her head duly eventuates. Satisfied he continues 'Would you like to have your first taste of.........? Leda is stunned by the mysteries being unfolded before her, lost for words. It isn't until Swanne shakes the frightening object in front of her face, that she realizes that an answer is expected from her. In wide-eyed innocence and fear she looks up at him and says, "Jism, Sir?" she answers hesitantly. 'Very good Leda', the teacher responds. 'Now I want you to start by licking up the little droplet of 'jism' on the head of my cock. Keep your eyes locked to mine as you do so.' His eyes seem hypnotic to the girl and she has no thought of objecting. Shuffling closer on her knees she inclines her head. Her small pointed tongue flicks from between her lips as she holds his gaze. Swanne concentrates all his attention on the scene before him. He wants to imprint the scene in his mind forever. 'The virgin slut's first taste of spunk' he thinks to himself. As the tip of her tongue touches his cock head he cannot repress a shudder in reaction to her touch. But he continues to watch her as her nose wrinkles in disgust at the bitter salty taste. But, unbidden, her tongue laps up the oozing clot of sperm and swallows it. Swanne can only sigh and command in a croak, 'Lick the rest of my cock.' He then watches as she opens her mouth in response. In awe mixed with revulsion, she closes her eyes and begins to lick Swanne's swollen member. She starts methodically, working from the tip downwards. Each stroke of her tongue across the head provides her with another taste of her teacher's 'jism'. At first she has to fight waves of revulsion thinking, 'He said his cock was for 'peeing''. But finds that, after a while, it isn't at all unpleasant. Squirming between Swanne's long legs, she gets more comfortable for the task at hand and begins to lick in earnest. Determined to bring this to a conclusion, even if she has no idea what that conclusion might be. Knowing that she has no escape, she laps Swanne's long dick with increasing vigor. "Lick it all over the shaft and then take of much of it in your mouth as possible," he said. She licks it's entire length all the way around, and opens her mouth wider, preparing to try and engulf it's fullness with her warm, virgin mouth. Swanne slumps back in his chair in ecstasy as the schoolgirl begins to clumsily lap at his shaft. He makes no attempt to direct her efforts. The fact that his cock is the first she has ever tasted, that she obviously has no idea what she is doing is far more arousing to him than the most expert blow-job. If she had been better at her task he would have enjoyed it less. If a kitten loses its charm when it becomes a cat, Swanne feels that females are less fun when they think they know what they are doing. 'Give me an enthusiastic amateur any day,' he thinks to himself, groaning with delight as Leda's tongue catches an especially sensitive spot on his glans. 'Now we will move onto lesson three,' he announces, 'deep throat! Now Leda I want you to take the head of my cock fully into your mouth. Once you have it in your mouth try swirling your tongue around the top.' Taking a deep breath, Leda covers the head of Swanne's cock with her mouth and swirls her tongue around and around. It's silky softness begins to appeal to her. She finds herself feeling strange 'down there' between her legs again; a lot like when Swanne spanked her earlier. Leda begins to think of Swanne's manhood as she would a tasty lollipop and swirls her tongue around it with more enthusiasm Watching the young girl stretching her mouth and lips wide to accept her first prick is such an erotic sight that he groans aloud in appreciation. He feels his balls twitch and tighten, his shaft swell, in the first intimation of an orgasm. By now she can barely fit the end of his cock into her warm, wet mouth and the experience is so new and foreign to the girl that even this fraction of his knob causes her to choke. 'Come on you little trollop, swallow more. You should be able to get the whole thing down your throat!' he shouts cruelly. Losing patience he takes hold of a pig-tail in each hand and says, 'Let me help you.' With that, using her bunched hair, he roughly pulls her head down into his groin. This action forces virtually all of his length into the schoolgirl's mouth. He stands suddenly, ensuring that the last inch is forced home until his balls dangle on her chin. Still holding her pig-tails, ignoring the choking noises he begins to pump his cock into her tortured mouth. His voice coarse with lust he announces, 'Now for the fourth and final part of this lesson, your reward, you get to drink my spunk.' He increases his pace, fucking her mouth hard, still holding her hair so that she cannot pull away. The perverted nature of his actions cause sudden a prickling of guilt but these feelings are swept away by the onset of his orgasm. 'Here it comes girl! Don't waste a drop or you will suffer.' Then he is overwhelmed by his climax and cries out, 'Lord have mercy!' as he ejaculates. The unexpected ejaculations from Swanne's mouth and from his cock make the experience seem very holy to Leda. 'Lord have mercy!' she echoes in her mind as her mouth is crammed full of cock and the flow of fluid spurting from the teacher's cock is only a little more in volume than the fluid running from her slit and down her pale thighs. As the cum spurts across her tongue and his tight balls bang against her chin, her little clittie seemed to grow twice its size and almost as hard as the rigid flesh in her mouth. His strangled cry accompanies the groans in her throat, now being filled beyond capacity. Afraid and inexperienced, she doesn't know what to do. She feels the need to breath, to swallow, but if she opens her mouth, Swanne's jism will spill out and Leda shudders to think what possible punishment might follow. Screwing her eyes shut tight, she attempts to swallow, gulping and gagging, but can't. She starts to choke. Her coughing causes the newly ejaculated seed to dribble from her mouth. Much to their mutual disgust it is even running out of her nose. It is everywhere, trickling off her chin to splash on her starched, white uniform blouse. As Swanne feels the post orgasmic tremors diminish he opens his eyes to stare down at Leda. Her face is stained with tears and smeared with sperm. Her eyes are full of pleas. Renewed feelings of guilt begin to gnaw at his conscience. He can blame himself for the girl's condition or........... 'Look at the state you are in you little strumpet, you cock sucking whore. Covered in semen! Have you no shame?' he roars. He reaches for the cane on his desk at the same time as he tries to grab her shoulder and lift her to her feet. All he gets is a handful of the Leda's blouse, which tears away in his grasp. He stands transfixed by what he sees. Leda's mother's bra supports the girl's firm little titties as if offering them up to Swanne. Her tiny nipples, bullet hard, protrude from the lacy cups. The teacher feels tremors across his body and his deflating cock starts to stiffen again. How can he possibly withstand the 'snares and lures of Satan' when they are soooooo irresistible? 'Temptress!' he cries, before raising the cane above his head. Without hesitation he brings it down across her young breasts with zeal. As he raises the bamboo switch again he sees the livid stripe left on her flesh. Excited at this spectacle he lashes her a few more times, the last blow catching her across both nipples at once. Leda & Swanne Each lash takes Leda's breath away; the pain is so intense. But that last blow across both nipples, after what she has just experienced, proves too much for the young girl. The pain spreads like white heat and causes the moisture between her legs to pool, and a pulsating irritation that could only be assuaged by some kind of physical pressure. When Swanne stops flogging her one hand moves to caress her striped tits, trying to stroke away the pain. With the other hand she presses her fingers onto her mound, no longer surprised at the copious moisture she feels there. It seems to help, but at the same time, seems to increase her desire for more; much more. But more of what she wonders? Somehow, the words that he hurled at her, strumpet, cock-sucking whore, temptress, described her feelings so well that she feels resigned to admitting to herself that she must be all these things. Hardly aware of what she is doing, her fingers press down on her clit and rub it rhythmically. Without taking his entranced gaze from the girl, Swanne reaches over to his desk and with one long sweep, sends everything on it flying. He picks up the lust-filled girl and sets her on her desk. Her hand never leaves her virgin slit. He sets her on his desk lengthwise and moves his chair to one end to watch, stroking his twitching member now that it's losing its former post-coital super-sensitivity. Hardly missing a beat, Leda keeps stroking herself. 'Continue,' orders Swanne, voice thick. As though she could do anything else! Leda is enthralled by the new-found pleasure that engulfs her and she isn't about to stop...at least, not yet! The physical pleasure transcended her former embarrassment. She seems to hardly be aware of Swanne's presence. She finds that tugging on the waistband of her mother's panties causes the wet material to friction across her straining clit. The sensation is lovely for her and the sight is very gratifying to Swanne. He watches as Leda's labia, still only sparsely sprinkled with hair, bulge out on either side of the knickers wedged deep in her slit. He can see her cunt juices virtually whipped into a white froth around her tiny, tight hole. Pulling himself together he reverts to teacher mode. 'Play with yourself Leda.' In trance-like response, Leda's small hand bunches up more of the flimsy silk cloth, pulling the crotch up tighter. The fingers of her other hand creep down lower, lower, down her baby smooth belly, down to the curly little hairs, lower, down to that uncomfortable pressure that begs attention. Her eyes close and nothing else seems to exist for her at the moment as these new-found pleasures overshadow all sensibility. Spreading her legs wider, she tugs on the crotch of the panties rhythmically, her hips rocking, keeping time with the motion. Small whimpers of delight escape the girl's throat; the throat that has just experienced it's viriginal invasion of cock and cum. Her fingers seem to be sucked in to the vortex of heat between her legs. She insinuates her fingers under the barrier of her mommies panties. Swanne strokes his cock into full erection as he watches the girl lose herself in the joys of self-exploration. 'Do you enjoy that Leda? Your fingers deep in your hole?' he asks. Her response is a low guttural moan in the back of her throat. The questions continue. 'What do you call that part of your body that you are playing with Leda?' The girl is suddenly embarrassed at the thought of answering this question. She thinks she knows the 'right' word but is not sure how to pronounce it. In order to avoid the shame of not saying it right she gropes into her (not very distant) childhood memories and stammers, 'M...m...my 'front bottom' Sir?' She is mortified when he roars with laughter before bellowing, 'Wrong Leda! It is called your 'cunt', or your 'pussy'. I prefer cunt. From now on that is the only name that you will use. What is it called?' 'Pussy?', 'cunt?', 'pussy!, 'cunt!'. She turns these new words over in her mind like shiny pennies of forbidden knowledge. She is filled with a sudden surge of strange pride in the ownership of such womanly things. Knowing that the man is waiting for an answer to the question she looks up at him, smiling, and says, "It's called my cunt!" she exclaims, relishing the way the word feels and sounds in her mouth. 'Very good lass.' He purrs. 'Now tell me, did you enjoy being spanked and caned? Did it make your cunt wet?' Her answer is a low sibilant 'Yessssssss', as her fingers continue to probe her virgin sex. 'Did you like the taste of my jism? Would you like more?' Another 'Yes'. 'Do you know why that is?' The excited girl can only shake her head, lost in her efforts to scratch the 'itch' in her cunt that she just cant seem to reach. 'It is because you are a slut, a tramp and a whore Leda. What are you?' Leda is shocked back into the present by this suggestion. She has heard these words before and whilst she isn't sure she understands them, she knows they are bad. She knows they mean that she is a bad girl. She wont admit what her teacher wants her to say. She opens her eyes and stares directly at Swanne, framed between her wide splayed thighs. 'I'm not a sl.......', unable to bring herself to say those words, 'I'm not any of those things.' She insists. Swanne is furious. 'Yes you are Leda!' he roars. 'You dress like a whore. You enjoyed being punished. You sucked my cock and drank my cum and admit to be hungry for more. Now you display yourself in front of me like a wanton strumpet. A "proper" young lady would have done none of those things. You enjoy all of these things. This is the proof that you are a slut. I'll ask you once more, what are you Leda?' She shakes her head left and right, wishing the desk would just swallow her; help her escape. But, there is no escape. She opens her eyes and sees Swanne's hard lanky form loom over her. His fearsome scowl demanding her reply. Suddenly aware of what she's been doing, her hands fly to cover her private parts. 'What have I done??' she demands of herself; wondering how she could do such a thing. And she begins to wonder. 'Am I? Am I a ... (shudder)..a...s-s-slut???" Mr. Swanne straightens and Leda realises that she had better answer quickly. But she will not admit to this. 'NO!!! NO, I'm not a s-s-slut!!' she cries, dissolving in tears. With one swift movement, Swanne deftly turns Leda over on the desk, taking up the bamboo cane. WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Swanne brings the cane down mercilessly, lustfully on the smooth flesh of Leda's ass. With each stroke he demands an answer, 'What are you?' WHACK!! 'What are you?' WHACK!! As each blow rains down on her buttocks, Leda's resolve diminishes and her arousal grows. Finally all her jumbled emotions well up, the pressure like the seconds before a thunderstorm breaks. "YES!!! I AM a slut!" The words choke through her tears. In uncontrollable sobs, she cries, "I am a slut, I am a slut, I am a slut!" Like admitting to a long buried sin Leda feels an enormous relief at this admission. And in the secret places of her heart, she wonders if she's saying it because she's afraid that Mr. Swanne will continue punishing her, or afraid that he will stop. The feeling of triumph at breaking her last shred of resistance fills Swanne and translates itself into a throbbing erection. Luxuriating in the sensation he looks down at the young girl's abused ass. Between her thighs, striped where a few strokes went astray, her pussy is clearly visible. The lips are puffy and swollen and clearly very wet. Struggling to control his breathing Swanne announces. 'Now I am going to give you what every good strumpet lives for Leda. I'm going to fuck you. Do you know what fucking is girl?' Without waiting for an answer he proceeds to tell her. 'I'm going to stick my cock into your tight little cunt. I'm going to ram it in until you feel as if you will split. I'm going to take your maidenhood, your virginity, your innocence.' Saying the words and thinking of the deed arouses Swanne further. 'I'm going to make you into a proper little slut. How does that sound to you Leda?' The words swirl in her head. "Strumpet...proper little slut?" They echo through her body and reverberate through the wooden desk upon which the upper part of her body lays; a helpless sacrifice. Swanne's words ring in her ears. Body memory of her fingers, there...in her..cunt, her now-stinging cunt, made burning hot from Swanne's stray blows, make Leda's legs spread involuntarily. She readies herself for what is to come, without protest, resigned and expectant at the same time. Her heart pounds against the wooden desk, and the tension is unbearable. Only one thing will break it. Only one thing will bring her the release that her body so desires. "Make me a slut, Sir," she whispers. The resulting silence is deafening. Her body trembles as she awaits the invasion. Swanne stares mesmerised at the tender flesh before him, wanting and needing to defile it. But wanting and needing to hear her say it again even more, he waits He waits for her further response and the silence is unbearable. The words stick in her throat. Her mouth does not obey her. 'Yes!' she screams inside her head. 'Goddamnit do it!! Do it NOW!!' But, some part of her doesn't allow her mouth to obey her body's desires. Frightened, yet more thrilled than afraid, she wills herself to answer. Still he waits. His patience is rewarded. 'Please, Sir,' she begs in the smallest little girl voice. "Please make me a proper little slut." For, all Leda knows at the moment is that she will die if she doesn't feel his cock in her cunt right now. Right now, all she knows is that she must get...FUCKED! The young girl's words cause the teacher's cock to swell even further with excitement. Moving closer to Leda's prostrate form he grabs hold of his straining prick and points at her virgin cunt. 'Very well Leda,' he says. 'If that is what you want.' He positions the mushroom shaped head of his manhood against the slick lips of her girlish slit. He pauses, savouring the moment. Even a man with his predilections and in his position doesn't get too many opportunities like this. 'Not often I get to pop a cherry,' he thinks to himself. 'Better take it slow and make it memorable.' She shuts her eyes tightly awaiting the onslaught...of what? She doesn't really know what to expect, but she's tasted of small pleasures in her bed alone at night, and she's dreamed of what it would be like to feel a man's cock in her cunt. In her head, she can say the words that offend her sensibilities to utter out loud. "Cock. Cunt." She trembles. Clenching her teeth, she wonders what Mr. Swanne is waiting for. His cock head is soon nuzzling against her wet pussy lips. Suddenly alarmed Leda looks back over her shoulder at her teacher. With a pleading look in her eye she asks, 'Will it hurt Sir?' Laughing cruelly he responds, 'I certainly hope so!' Taking hold of her slim hips he jerks his pelvis forward, forcing the first inch into her slit, forcing a gasp of pain from her lips. Swanne's tumescent flesh causes Leda's cunt to quiver. She feels her slick lips part and wonders what more will follow. Bewilderment makes Leda's eyes fly open wide! The shock! The sudden realization that this is really happening. What was it her mother had warned her? Once her virginity was lost it could never be regained? She begins to realize what that means as searing pain rips through her tenderest secret place. No man had ever touched her there nor even seen her naked. Except for Mr. Swanne. And now, he was claiming her in the most permanently intimate way! He can feel the evidence of her excitement, her wetness engulfs his cock head, but her passage is still extremely tight. Another hard thrust and Swanne can feel the fragile resistance of her hymen 'impeding' his progress. He can hear Leda crying and moaning in pain and fear but ignores her. He tugs back on her hips and thrusts forward at the same time. He feels her maidenhead tear as his cock rips into her. This violation tears a shriek from Leda's throat as she feels his cock stretch her young cunt. "Nooooooooooo!!!" she screams. But, it is too late. Too late for recriminations, too late to regain what has been taken, and too late to stop the other feelings that course through her body. For, as frightened as she is, as painful as the hot pain burns through her cunt, there is also a wild excitement that grabs her just the way Swanne grabbed her hips. With a satisfied grunt and a last shove he has the entire length of his cock buried in her. Holding still for a moment he feels a trickle of extra wetness flowing over his length. Pulling back slightly the teacher sees the proof of his students innocence staining his shaft. Groaning with lust he pulls all the way back and thrusts into the defenceless girl again. She screams once more but the pain is diminishing, changing. "OH God!!!" she screams inside her head. Or did the words actually come out of her mouth? She doesn't know. She is oblivious to anything but the pain...the pain and the way it spread throughout her loins and...yes...makes her want more!! MORE!!!! Her arms beneath her body, hands joined as if in an attitude of prayer. The heat, pleasure growing, releasing liquid pleasure with each stroke. Something inside her begins to anticipate the next thrust and the next. She prays that he will stop and yet she prays that he won't! Swanne begins to increase his pace, fucking his cock into the young girl's cunt. With each thrust the walls off her tight tunnel open to greedily accept the invading length of his phallus. With each stroke his cock squelches in the mixture of Leda's juices and her hymen's blood. With each thrust her cries turn from pain to pleasure until her moans turn into mewling as another approaching orgasm tightens the muscles in her lithe little body. Her cries of pain turn into cries of pleasure. Her body trembles and she no longer attempts to understand what is happening to her but gives herself up to it. The sensation is like no other she has ever experienced in her life. Her heart pounds through the desk. A strange new desire builds inside her like a seething volcano threatening to explode. Swanne feels his own crisis build in his body. Time to continue the violation. He withdraws from the child's ravaged pussy, causing her to sight with frustration. With a minor adjustment he places the stained head of his cock against the tight pucker if her ass. He forces it forward until he feels Leda stiffen. 'What is it you want whore? Tell me!' With a gasp Leda cries out in frustration, 'Fuck me Mr. Swanne!!! Fuck me!! Just don't stop, please don't stop' her outburst dissolves into a pleading whisper. 'Tell me where, Leda.' Swanne demands, forcing open her tight bud with the head of his cock. 'Hurry up, whore!!' he demands in exasperation; the desire to hear her beg almost as strong as his overwhelming desire to feel her tight ass-hole squeeze his cock. She can't stand it anymore, the feelings that have begun demand release. She stretches her arms out and grasps the ends of the desk as if holding on for dear life. She thrusts her young, saucy ass against Swanne's pelvis and groans, 'Mr. Swanne....please fuck my ass!!! Fuck me any way you want, anywhere you want.' Having uttered the words, she screws her eyes tight, tight, awaiting the pain she is sure will come, and the pleasure that will follow. A shiver runs through Swanne's sweaty, lanky body as he hears her words. Ahhhhhhh! It was worth waiting for! Barely able to control himself, he plunges forward forcing his way through the hot, tight tunnel. Leda screams out and stifles her cries with her little fist. Is this what she asked for? Is this what she wanted? Her head tosses left and right...no..no.. no.... Oblivious to anything but his burgeoning desire, Swanne's body continues the assault as though he no longer had control of it. Something outside himself has taken over and it WILL not be denied. It demands satisfaction. His steady rhythm causes Leda's cunt to press against the edge of the desk again, and again and again. She finds herself consciously rubbing against it at every opportunity and the volcano within awakens like a genie in a bottle that refuses to stay confined. Swanne grabs at Leda's hips clumsily, then holds them with a vice-like grip as his own desire ruptures forth. With a strangled cry like a low growl that frightens Leda, Swanne's balls tighten as never before and his rock hard cock rams into Leda's bleeding and torn hole. "Te absolvo!" Swanne roars. He thrusts into Leda's aching hole in spasms, depositing stream after stream of his jism into her once-virgin ass. He gasps and draws in a deep breath as he slowly withdraws his spent member. "You are absolved, Leda.' He gasps. 'This is how little sluts like you are absolved of their sins." Leda sobs. Thoroughly stilled, she becomes aware of the warm liquid that runs down her thighs, and upon her asscheeks. The knowledge of having experienced pleasure as well as pain is difficult for her to comprehend and accept. As her own breathing slowly returns to normal, she is shocked to admit to herself that she can hardly wait to experience this again! Swanne gets her attention with a hard slap to her ass. With a start, she raises her sore body from the desk, suddenly aware that she is no longer captive in that position. She fleetingly wonders how long she had lain there when she could have stood up. She watches as Swanne takes something from a drawer. He walks behind her and for just a second, she stifles a giggle for, she has never seen a man naked before and something about Mr. Swanne's disheveled state amuses her. That is, until he walks behind her and pulls her arms back hard. Something cold, metal, restrains her wrists and she's rudely pulled down on her knees. Walking back around in front of Leda, Swanne holds his blood-soiled, slimed with cum cock in front of Leda's mouth. She recoils in horror. He smiles. "Yes, Leda, now you're going to clean my cock like the good little cocksucking slut that you are." She is all at once shocked at how different it looks now and at the same time, horrified at having to put it in her mouth after where it's just been. Mustering a shred of defiance, she cries, 'No! Please, Mr. Swanne, don't make me do that!' He smiles. 'Yes!' he thinks. This is almost as satisfying as the orgasm that freed him from months of lustful desire moments ago. With an evil grin, he puts his face inches from hers and hisses, 'Haven't you learned yet, Leda? YOU NEVER, NEVER SAY 'NO' TO ME!!!!' The look of stark terror in the girl's eyes would be something that he would replay again and again in his head for days to come. He grabs a fistful of Leda's hair and forces her mouth over his limp member. Leda can't believe the transformation of this once stiff, longer, harder ...thing. She weeps as her tongue snakes out tentatively, revulsion at the brink. To her surprise, it doesn't taste as bad as she thought it would. With an air of resignation, she takes to her task. Funny how doing this to him makes her own juicy sex quiver again! The feeling scares her and she determines to finish what she must do to hurry up and get out of there and re-live it all over again in her mind. "That's enough, slut!" Swanne pulls her head back. Once again, he puts his face inches from hers and utters with relish, 'You ARE a slut, Leda, MY little slut, and I will teach you many, many things you have yet to learn.' He pulls her up by her hair and she struggles to her feet, yelping. Swanne whirls her around roughly and releases her wrists. Leda & Swanne 'Now, get dressed and get out of here. You will come to my office every lunchtime from now on. Understand that you much to learn and the lessons will be hard. But I will train you to perfection. That is my vocation, my passion -- to teach.' Swanne declaims, before turning away from the ravaged girl to stare out the window. Leda scrambles for her clothes, dressing hastily, clumsily as she makes her way to the door. As her little hand reaches for the handle of the door she whispers, towards her teacher's back, 'I will pay attention in our "special" classes Sir. I want to become your star pupil.' Only when the door clicks closed does Swanne allow a smile to cross his face.