| Mature Fiction posted March 12, 2016 |
  |
Short Story
A Serpent Watching-Part 1
by michaelcahill
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
The author has placed a warning on this post for sexual content.
Making Briarwood School for the Blind coed would be a boon to my boring evenings as night watchman. I’m not one to complain mind you. These young blossoming gals put on quite the show for me every night. I can't complain about the perks of an otherwise mundane job. I have little to do but prowl the grounds protecting the girls from would be peeping toms and worse. I do that, and I watch.
Briarwood is like any other secondary school for the well-to-do. The students are on the snobby side. The curriculum is outdated and stodgy. The staff and faculty are outdated and stodgy too, and snobby as well. The students are all blind, which anyone involved will quickly tell you is not a handicap. You don't even have to ask. The American school system places these young ladies in the tenth, eleventh and twelfth grades. It is called high school by most in the country, snobs call it prep school. They are "preparing" for things of an important nature, you see.
Most are surprised to find it located in the deep south as not a student has a hint of a southern accent. Indeed, they all sound like New Englanders regardless of their state of origin. You can almost hear the steel guitars twenty miles away in Nashville.
The gates are impossibly tall and heavy, ornate wrought iron, Rococo as the headmistress is fond of pointing out. If that means a bunch of rusty metal serpentines of flowers and grapes, then I guess I got the rococo picture pretty clear in my head. Fancy pants comes to mind and I can almost hear my Grandma’s voice sayin’ it.
Oh, and spikes, can’t forget the spikes. There are spikes all over the gate and on top of the twenty-foot wall surrounding the ancient buildings huddled together and comprising the campus.
The school was founded in 1871 and very little has been done in the way of renovation since, either to the buildings or the method of instruction.
The inclusion of boys, as they call teenage young men, is shaking the foundations of the old school and the staff and faculty are none too happy about it. Head Mistress and lifelong spinster Hannah Emmerick considers the act of being born with a penis at the very least a venial sin. Any use of it other than the expulsion of urine … despicable. It is not an appendage she envies and certainly not one she considers allowing egress to, let alone lusting after, like these young heathen trollops under her charge.
And now her beloved Briarwood stands infested with young freshly awakened cocks as though an army of eager undulating worms has discovered the ripest most penetrable luscious red apple grove east of Eden. The vapors have become a constant state for her. There isn’t a lad in Briarwood who can rise from his desk without lifting the lid.
I take it all in and wait for nature to take its course. For the time being, I have my nightly rounds to make. The girl’s dorm is the largest building on the small campus. It is a single story facility with rooms surrounding the perimeter, each with its own door and bay window. The girls come and go as they please until curfew at nine PM sharp. One of my job functions consists of curfew enforcement. A violation calls for immediate reporting to headmistress, Hannah Emmerick herself.
In the four years of my employ, not once have I had to report a violation the headmistress. Hell no, do you think I’m missing the chance to watch a beautiful young seventeen-year-old rush into her room, frantically strip off her clothes and jump into the shower? Do I sound like some kind of idiot to you? No, the only report I’m making is how lovely her firm breasts look as the water cascades over them, and how excited she gets as she lingers between her legs and slowly pleasures herself for my benefit. Of course she knows old Darby Henry is watchin’. She knows it. She’s wishin’ I’d take the risk and join her too. But I can’t risk my job and she can’t risk her education. No, we’ll have to keep our lovemaking a secret--her and all the other girls here at Briarwood.
And now, I’m just biding my time. Those boys are going to come up with a way to get the swelling down in those aching protrusions ‘twixt their legs. I know these girls. They are going to be delighted to assist them any way they can. Me? I’ll be watching, just to make sure everyone’s safe.
But for now, there’s the business at hand if you’ll pardon the pun. Yes, come to the window so old Brady can get up close. Yes, baby, you know I’m right here, don’t you? You may be blind, but you can feel my presence, I know it, honey. Oh how beautiful you look in the moonlight. Slowly now, darlin’, slowly; we want to make this last. If only I could just open this window and feel that wet mound of hair against my lips. Is that what you’re thinking about right now with your eyes closed so tight? Are you thinking about your man, Brady, burying his face down there and tickling those tan thighs with his scruffy grey beard? Yeah, baby, I’m with you. Faster now, don’t hold back. Faster, let it go now ….
-to be continued-
Making Briarwood School for the Blind coed would be a boon to my boring evenings as night watchman. I’m not one to complain mind you. These young blossoming gals put on quite the show for me every night. I can't complain about the perks of an otherwise mundane job. I have little to do but prowl the grounds protecting the girls from would be peeping toms and worse. I do that, and I watch.
Briarwood is like any other secondary school for the well-to-do. The students are on the snobby side. The curriculum is outdated and stodgy. The staff and faculty are outdated and stodgy too, and snobby as well. The students are all blind, which anyone involved will quickly tell you is not a handicap. You don't even have to ask. The American school system places these young ladies in the tenth, eleventh and twelfth grades. It is called high school by most in the country, snobs call it prep school. They are "preparing" for things of an important nature, you see.
Most are surprised to find it located in the deep south as not a student has a hint of a southern accent. Indeed, they all sound like New Englanders regardless of their state of origin. You can almost hear the steel guitars twenty miles away in Nashville.
The gates are impossibly tall and heavy, ornate wrought iron, Rococo as the headmistress is fond of pointing out. If that means a bunch of rusty metal serpentines of flowers and grapes, then I guess I got the rococo picture pretty clear in my head. Fancy pants comes to mind and I can almost hear my Grandma’s voice sayin’ it.
Oh, and spikes, can’t forget the spikes. There are spikes all over the gate and on top of the twenty-foot wall surrounding the ancient buildings huddled together and comprising the campus.
The school was founded in 1871 and very little has been done in the way of renovation since, either to the buildings or the method of instruction.
The inclusion of boys, as they call teenage young men, is shaking the foundations of the old school and the staff and faculty are none too happy about it. Head Mistress and lifelong spinster Hannah Emmerick considers the act of being born with a penis at the very least a venial sin. Any use of it other than the expulsion of urine … despicable. It is not an appendage she envies and certainly not one she considers allowing egress to, let alone lusting after, like these young heathen trollops under her charge.
And now her beloved Briarwood stands infested with young freshly awakened cocks as though an army of eager undulating worms has discovered the ripest most penetrable luscious red apple grove east of Eden. The vapors have become a constant state for her. There isn’t a lad in Briarwood who can rise from his desk without lifting the lid.
I take it all in and wait for nature to take its course. For the time being, I have my nightly rounds to make. The girl’s dorm is the largest building on the small campus. It is a single story facility with rooms surrounding the perimeter, each with its own door and bay window. The girls come and go as they please until curfew at nine PM sharp. One of my job functions consists of curfew enforcement. A violation calls for immediate reporting to headmistress, Hannah Emmerick herself.
In the four years of my employ, not once have I had to report a violation the headmistress. Hell no, do you think I’m missing the chance to watch a beautiful young seventeen-year-old rush into her room, frantically strip off her clothes and jump into the shower? Do I sound like some kind of idiot to you? No, the only report I’m making is how lovely her firm breasts look as the water cascades over them, and how excited she gets as she lingers between her legs and slowly pleasures herself for my benefit. Of course she knows old Darby Henry is watchin’. She knows it. She’s wishin’ I’d take the risk and join her too. But I can’t risk my job and she can’t risk her education. No, we’ll have to keep our lovemaking a secret--her and all the other girls here at Briarwood.
And now, I’m just biding my time. Those boys are going to come up with a way to get the swelling down in those aching protrusions ‘twixt their legs. I know these girls. They are going to be delighted to assist them any way they can. Me? I’ll be watching, just to make sure everyone’s safe.
But for now, there’s the business at hand if you’ll pardon the pun. Yes, come to the window so old Brady can get up close. Yes, baby, you know I’m right here, don’t you? You may be blind, but you can feel my presence, I know it, honey. Oh how beautiful you look in the moonlight. Slowly now, darlin’, slowly; we want to make this last. If only I could just open this window and feel that wet mound of hair against my lips. Is that what you’re thinking about right now with your eyes closed so tight? Are you thinking about your man, Brady, burying his face down there and tickling those tan thighs with his scruffy grey beard? Yeah, baby, I’m with you. Faster now, don’t hold back. Faster, let it go now ….
-to be continued-
Briarwood is like any other secondary school for the well-to-do. The students are on the snobby side. The curriculum is outdated and stodgy. The staff and faculty are outdated and stodgy too, and snobby as well. The students are all blind, which anyone involved will quickly tell you is not a handicap. You don't even have to ask. The American school system places these young ladies in the tenth, eleventh and twelfth grades. It is called high school by most in the country, snobs call it prep school. They are "preparing" for things of an important nature, you see.
Most are surprised to find it located in the deep south as not a student has a hint of a southern accent. Indeed, they all sound like New Englanders regardless of their state of origin. You can almost hear the steel guitars twenty miles away in Nashville.
The gates are impossibly tall and heavy, ornate wrought iron, Rococo as the headmistress is fond of pointing out. If that means a bunch of rusty metal serpentines of flowers and grapes, then I guess I got the rococo picture pretty clear in my head. Fancy pants comes to mind and I can almost hear my Grandma’s voice sayin’ it.
Oh, and spikes, can’t forget the spikes. There are spikes all over the gate and on top of the twenty-foot wall surrounding the ancient buildings huddled together and comprising the campus.
The school was founded in 1871 and very little has been done in the way of renovation since, either to the buildings or the method of instruction.
The inclusion of boys, as they call teenage young men, is shaking the foundations of the old school and the staff and faculty are none too happy about it. Head Mistress and lifelong spinster Hannah Emmerick considers the act of being born with a penis at the very least a venial sin. Any use of it other than the expulsion of urine … despicable. It is not an appendage she envies and certainly not one she considers allowing egress to, let alone lusting after, like these young heathen trollops under her charge.
And now her beloved Briarwood stands infested with young freshly awakened cocks as though an army of eager undulating worms has discovered the ripest most penetrable luscious red apple grove east of Eden. The vapors have become a constant state for her. There isn’t a lad in Briarwood who can rise from his desk without lifting the lid.
I take it all in and wait for nature to take its course. For the time being, I have my nightly rounds to make. The girl’s dorm is the largest building on the small campus. It is a single story facility with rooms surrounding the perimeter, each with its own door and bay window. The girls come and go as they please until curfew at nine PM sharp. One of my job functions consists of curfew enforcement. A violation calls for immediate reporting to headmistress, Hannah Emmerick herself.
In the four years of my employ, not once have I had to report a violation the headmistress. Hell no, do you think I’m missing the chance to watch a beautiful young seventeen-year-old rush into her room, frantically strip off her clothes and jump into the shower? Do I sound like some kind of idiot to you? No, the only report I’m making is how lovely her firm breasts look as the water cascades over them, and how excited she gets as she lingers between her legs and slowly pleasures herself for my benefit. Of course she knows old Darby Henry is watchin’. She knows it. She’s wishin’ I’d take the risk and join her too. But I can’t risk my job and she can’t risk her education. No, we’ll have to keep our lovemaking a secret--her and all the other girls here at Briarwood.
And now, I’m just biding my time. Those boys are going to come up with a way to get the swelling down in those aching protrusions ‘twixt their legs. I know these girls. They are going to be delighted to assist them any way they can. Me? I’ll be watching, just to make sure everyone’s safe.
But for now, there’s the business at hand if you’ll pardon the pun. Yes, come to the window so old Brady can get up close. Yes, baby, you know I’m right here, don’t you? You may be blind, but you can feel my presence, I know it, honey. Oh how beautiful you look in the moonlight. Slowly now, darlin’, slowly; we want to make this last. If only I could just open this window and feel that wet mound of hair against my lips. Is that what you’re thinking about right now with your eyes closed so tight? Are you thinking about your man, Brady, burying his face down there and tickling those tan thighs with his scruffy grey beard? Yeah, baby, I’m with you. Faster now, don’t hold back. Faster, let it go now ….
-to be continued-
 Recognized |
Characters:
Headmistress Hannah Emmerick: Sighted, runs Briarwood with an iron fist as it were. She has been there since she was a student herself.
Darby Henry: Night watchman also sighted, enjoys peeking through windows at blind female students showering and masturbating. Also patrols the grounds hoping to find students engaged in sexual activity for his viewing pleasure. Has discovered Hannahâ??s unusual methods of pain/pleasure recently.
Lloyd Langerhorne: Known as Void Lloyd, roommate of Jonesy and recipient of his castoffs. Believes he is Adrianaâ??s boyfriend though she is using him to get to Jonesy.
Liston Edward Jones: Known to all as Jonesy. The male stud on campus. All the women want him and he is glad to accommodate. Lloydâ??s roommate and friend.
Jane Cummings: Adrianaâ??s roommate and good friend. She has hooked up with Jonesy on several occasions.
Sheriff Samuels: Lead investigator charged with discovering who has committed murder on the campus.
Tony Tucker: A reporter for a local newspaper with information that shines a poor light on Hannah.
I don't agree that this needs to be "under the veil", but I'll put it there nonetheless out of respect for those who do. :))
This is pretty tame actually, however there are elements of all three of the warnings withing and implied and the story is no doubt leading to more of the same, so best to warn if it's no t one's cup of joe.
Not sure what I'm going to do with this. Just trying new things. Open to suggestions. I have ideas, but I'm not sure if they'd go over well here. Not that I should consider that, but then, why not consider it and take it elsewhere if such is the case? We'll see.
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. michaelcahill All rights reserved.
michaelcahill has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.