I sat on the bed unfastening my silk stockings and thinking about the evening’s events. I wondered what was in store for me at the Venus School for Young Ladies. It looked unlikely to be the demure training for married life that my father had imagined when he sent me away from my beloved Bill.
The door opened and my room-mate Beatrice swept in. Her lace gown was undone and I saw at a glance that she hadn’t replaced her knickers after her exhibition of lovemaking.
“I don’t know about you, Victoria, but I’m exhausted,” she said. She did indeed look tired. Her hair was wet and straggly, but there was a rosy glow to her face.
“I am quite tired,” I admitted. Beatrice jumped on to the bed and knelt beside me.
“Did you enjoy the demonstration?” she asked. I really did not know how to answer. I had watched her pleasure two young Austrian men in turn while our headmistress explained their actions. I blushed as I recalled how excited I had become watching them perform extraordinary acts upon each other.
“Y-yes,” I stammered, “it was, uh, exciting.”
“That’s good. I really wanted to be the one that Madame selected.”
“Didn’t you mind being watched while you, um, uh...”
“While I fornicated do you mean, Victoria?”
“Uh, yes, I suppose so.”
“Well, why not. If you’ve been trained to do something well, why not show off your skills.”
“Do the other girls think the same?”
“Oh yes, I think so. There was quite a competition for tonight’s show, but Madame says I’m the best at fellatio, and I do adore having a man lick me really deeply.” I blushed again at the memory of Eric kneeling between Bea’s legs and lapping at her sex.
“Do you love Eric or Hermann?” I asked innocently.
“Eric’s a dear and Hermann has the most wonderful cock. It is so broad that it really stretches you. But you mean love in the sense, am I going to marry them, don’t you?”
“Well, yes.”
“Of course not, you silly. They’re just for training, like the other boys. I’m going to marry a rich man and keep him happy for as long as he lives.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t met one yet – but I will.”
“Oh. Did you say there are more boys here?”
“There are five, or is it six. No, it’s five. Madame employs them around the house but they are really here to help us girls practise the arts of love. Look I’m ready to sleep, can you undo my corset?” She turned her back to me.
“Yes, of course,” I started to undo the lacing, “Perhaps you could do the same for me. I’ve never worn one before.”
Soon both of us had pulled off the tight garments and our stockings. Beatrice pulled the bedclothes over herself while she was still naked.
“I can’t be bothered with my nightdress. Come and cuddle up with me, Victoria.” It was another new thing after a day of surprising events but I did as she said and for the first time in my life felt my body touching that of another, skin to skin.

Lessons began next day and soon I was learning the knowledge and skills necessary to please a man, or at least Madame Thackeray’s vision of what men wanted in a wife. I studied art, improved my French and began a course in cookery. In the evening I joined my classmates in the drawing room dressed as we had on the first evening, in white corset, stockings, bloomers and a light dressing gown. For our first lesson Madame told us that if we were to give pleasure to a man then we must know what gives us pleasure. That meant “getting to know ourselves”, as she put it. She put up pictures of the female anatomy and got us to recite the names for the various parts of our fannies. Then she explained about the clitoris. I didn’t even know it existed before but apparently it is what gives women that wonderful experience of climax. She gave us each a small hand mirror and told us to return to our bedrooms. We were to examine our own sex, find our clitoris and stimulate ourselves until we managed an orgasm. It was the strangest homework I had ever been set.

I sat on the bed with my knickers off, my legs apart, holding the mirror at an angle so I could see what was going on down there with just the oil lamp for illumination. I soon found the hard little knob at the top of my slit which I presumed was the fabled clitoris. I twiddled it and rubbed it. I felt a pleasant sensation but I certainly wasn’t experiencing raptures like Beatrice had when Eric licked her. I was getting a bit fed up but then Beatrice came in.
“Oh, you’re here, I thought you would be in the lesson with Madame,” she said as she slipped off her gown and joined me on the bed, “but, I remember now, you are having your first lesson at getting an orgasm.” I blushed and squeezed my legs together. She laughed at my modesty.
“Any luck yet?”
I shook my head.
“It’s all in the touch. Look, let me help.” She wriggled closer and took the mirror from my hand. Then she caressed the inside of my right thigh.
“Come on, open your legs.”
Reluctantly, I parted my thighs a little. Beatrice lifted my knees and pushed them wider apart. I rested my head back on the pillows.
“There’s no wonder you had trouble. Your bush is so thick I can barely fight my way through to your little knob. It’s time we did something about it.” Beatrice leapt off the bed and into the bathroom, leaving me confused. A moment later she returned with a bowl of lather and a fearsome blade – a razor. She knelt between my legs and covered my mound with soapy suds.