Tales Told Out Of School. 4. Iris Corrects An Unfortunate Mistake.

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A man spying on them in the showers?

Solange continued, now that she had their undivided attention. “He obviously intended to spy on us while we were showering. He was intending to spy on me; did spy on me as I was just changing to get in some tennis practice when I noticed something.

I heard the scraping of a brick being moved, so I investigated outside when I’d got dressed and saw where there was a loose brick, but he must have heard me, or had finished gawking at me and had gone by then.

“I have a good look around now before I change or shower, and I don’t go in there alone any more. It’s not the place I’d want to be cornered by any man after stepping out of the shower if I was alone. Other of those girls would not have minded seeing a man come into their shower with them. He would not leave unscathed in some delightful way if he did trespass like that.

“I’d changed by then and he never saw much, and like I say, he had gone, so I went off to practice, and said nothing until now, but I stewed about it. We’ll have to put that on the 'to do now’ list, and decide what to do about him.”

She looked at the expectant faces as Dolores scribbled, taking notes.

“If he was prepared to do that, then we should wonder what else he might have done to spy on us, or is planning, especially in the toilets or dormitories, as the maintenance men are often up there too, working during the day, and will be for the next few weeks as they make changes, so you had all better keep your eyes open for those teeny, little, hidden cameras. “

She looked around at their astonished faces. “That’s all I have to say.”

Another voice chimed in. “You can all relax. I already did something about it!”

Iris, usually one of the quietest and most mature girls at table, spoke out. She had everyone’s attention. She was almost always last to speak, and often had the cleverest thing and the most pungent witticisms to say in her broad Yorkshire accent that was rapidly fading after the teachers kept correcting her. It was barely noticeable now when she was outside of that room in the school and being criticized for it by one or other of the teachers, but when she got out of school, or she get hot under the collar, she would let rip with some of the most colorful expressions, so starkly expressed.

“He came back, just as those showers were about to be humming with naked girls after hockey; tits and quims everywhere, and I caught him at it after you’d left. I’d just come in from hockey practice, and told him to fix it, ‘or else’, so he mortared it up again as I supervised him. He tried to make up some weak excuse about there being a wasp’s nest started where the mortar had fallen out, and that he’d just fixed it. It sounded like a lame excuse to me. I was tempted to box his ears!”

It seemed strange. Girls generally wanted boys to look at them, and notice them in that way, even to become intimate with them when the time was right—the girls talked about it enough—but when a man or a youth got too close to them, the girls often got scared and lost their nerve.

They’d soon get over it. They better had, or they wouldn’t get very far in life. In some ways it was a man’s world, but women; some women; the really smart ones who knew how to pull a man around by his dick and his balls (as one of the girls had pointed out to her shocked, but rapt, audience), still controlled the important things. It would have been more in keeping with their advanced education to have referred to the story of Lysistrata, and her fellow women, withholding sexual favors from their menfolk until the women got what they wanted, rather than talking about ’big dicks’ and ’balls’.

“After all, when you think about it, each one of us is sitting on a gold mine, if we learn how to use it to best advantage.”

There were not many who did not soon understand what she was telling them.

When those other women, in the Lysistrata story, got what they wanted, they would happily give the men what they most wanted (to screw them again), which was usually what the women wanted too (to be screwed), so everyone was happy again. A ’dicking’ a day, keeps the blues at bay. Once a King, always a King; once a night, is essential for marital harmony as that gigantic marital peacemaker gets its way and ploughs its eager furrow in that once-maidenly little garden.

“It’s a case of knowing when to get rid of your panties, and inviting him to get to know you that way without you being too obvious about it and scaring the poor blighter away.”

The silence dragged on for a while after that shocking statement. All that could be heard was the working of jaws, chewing gum, and the nervous tapping of a pencil.

Someone dragged Iris back to what she’d said earlier.

“Or else what? What did you threaten him with, that Tony Harcourt? He wouldn’t like that.”

Iris smiled, happy to say how she’d blasted him. “He didn’t like it. I told him that I’d tell his eldest brother; the Harcourt that owns that little company, and then I’d tell Miss Marlborough, the headmistress, and then we could all stand back and watch the fireworks fly, and see how their reputation would take a beating. They’d no longer be working in the school of course, and that would be a big financial loss for them, and he knew it.”

The other girls were all listening to what Iris had to say and listening to their stomachs rumbling. One was agitatedly chewing gum, a big ’no-no’ in the school, and another was twiddling a pencil and looking out of the window across to the playing fields where they would all rather be, with the sun shining and the evening meal still some hours away.

“They’d be kicked out of the school of course. I thought he was going to cry. I almost began to feel sorry for him. I wasn’t polite about it, and said quite a few other things too, that no lady might ever admit to knowing. I almost used the ‘f’ word, but didn’t, though I did use quite a few others, and boy, did he listen up then. But then I’m not one of these polite twerps that skate around an issue, and I wanted him to get my point. I bet he didn’t think a female might know those kind of words.

“I heard an Irish navvy, swearing once, and I was so enraptured and in awe, I just had to listen and learn some of those expressions except I had to leave PDQ; pretty damned quick, as I think he had other intentions on me when he discovered me eaves-dropping on him.

“I think that Harcourt youth understood me well enough. That’s all a man knows or listens to; direct language with a few jabs thrown in. He mortared it in place while I watched him, and then I saw him gone before anyone else went into the change room.”

She let out a big sigh having got it all off her chest, and a magnificent chest it was, too. Iris was one of the better-blessed girls, physically, in the entire school.

“We should never go in there alone without someone to stand guard. You never know who might walk in on you when that room’s full of steam on a colder day, and there’s no privacy whatsoever in those showers! Anyone can walk in on you, and you’d never know until it was too late.”

They all would have liked to have been present for that undoubtedly priceless exchange between Iris and Tony Harcourt.

When Iris got annoyed, she could say enough to shock anyone; not deliberately impolite things either, but just by being outspoken in an unmistakable and forceful way.

Morgana, another of the girls in her final year, entered the conversation then.

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