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Mrs Jennings' Sentence [Mrs. Smith's Academy #3]
by Clemency Jopling

Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Continuing a Saga in the Grand Tradition of Classic Victorian Erotica! Clemency Jopling, a well-known British novelist, writing under a pen name, continues his all-new tour through the psyche and fetishes of Victorian amour. The third volume of his bestselling "Mrs. Smith's Academy" series (which is modeled after an actual institution of the era), finds the headmistress Mrs. Jennings applying the academy's unique brand of discipline to a handful of intractable 18-22-year-old young ladies who have proved too much of a handful for their families. Mrs. Jennings must also cope with a Peeping Tom whose nocturnal lurkings and peerings have made a great disturbance among her young charges. To prevent unpleasant publicity that might harm the academy's reputation, rather than call in the police, Mrs. Jennings hires a private detective to catch the culprit. But, when the private richard finds himself surrounded by so many comely, lonely young women, he does what any other read-blooded Victorian male would have done--and the complications begin? "Wonderful! As good a read as Fanny Hill and Autobiography of a Flea." (Sibley Whyte, former editor The Fetish Times.) Look for Mrs. Smith's Academy Vol. I and II.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/SIZZLER, 2005
eBookwise Release Date: July 2005

eBookeBook

9 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [241 KB]
Words: 58676
Reading time: 167-234 min.


CHAPTER 1

One afternoon last summer, the phone rang.

"Higgins!' said a most commanding voice.

I felt a strong urge to stand to attention. 'Yes sir?'

"It's Colonel Groper-Bodley-Hedde here.'

"Good Lord,' I said. 'Is it really?'

"Yes. Groper-Bodley-Hedde. GBH, most people call me. Heard of me, have you?'

Actually I hadn't. I was just surprised by that extraordinary triple-barrelled monicker, but I didn't tell him that.

"Well, the name does ring a bell,' I said, because I find that flattery pays.

"Yes, course it does, course it does,' the Colonel bellowed down the phone. 'Pretty well known chap in the district, if I do say so myself. Captain of the golf club, county councillor, all that sort of thing. Oh, and chairman of the governors of Mrs Smith's Academy for Young Ladies.'

Mrs Smith's Academy. Now that I had heard of. It's located about three miles down the road from where I live. A lot of people make detours to drive past it, because if you keep your eyes open you can often catch a glimpse of the young beauties going about their business. As a result it's a well known accident black spot.

"Chap called Crabbworthy-Evans recommended you,' Colonel GBH continued. 'Member of my club in town. Said you'd been able to help his son.'

"Ah yes,' I said, 'I believe I was able to be of some assistance. And what can I do for you, Colonel?'

"Well, that's a bit on the confidential side,' the military man informed me. 'I think you'd better come round and see me.' So I did.

When I got to the address he'd given me, I found that the Colonel lived in a substantial mansion at the end of a lengthy drive. Worth a few bob, I thought to myself, and mentally added a nought to his bill.

The Colonel was disgusted when I asked for a lemonade instead of the large glass of whisky that he offered me, and which he himself preferred. But I'm not much of a drinker at the best of times; and especially, as I pointed out to him, when I'm on a case.

"Oh well,' he grumbled, 'I s'pose there's some sort of sense in that. Now then, Higgins, let's get down to business.... I told you over the phone that I'm chairman of the governors of Mrs Smith's Academy, and the Headmistress there, a widow woman called Mrs Jennings, has got a bee in her bonnet about Peeping Toms. Or a Peeping Tom, to be precise. Says she's had several sightings these last few weeks--seen a chap wandering about in the grounds at night.

The Colonel sank half an inch of whisky before continuing.

"Of course, I suppose it's a bit more comfortable standing in the shrubbery on a warm summer night than it is in the middle of winter, but I don't think there's anything in it myself. I reckon the girls make these stories up, to give themselves something to talk about. Pure female hysteria if you ask me. Still, you never know. There could be a prowler out there somewhere, and the rest of the governors have demanded that we do something about it. So, I've decided to commission you to keep watch for a few nights. Won't take long. All you need do is say you've seen nothing, which will be true, and then we can all forget about it. You get your fee, and I get peace and quiet again. OK?'

"Sounds fine to me,' I said. And as a matter of fact it was such a simple job that I thought it was a bit beneath me really, but I never pass up a chance to visit a young ladies' college. So we haggled a bit about the fee--he wanted me to pay him more than I could afford, heh heh heh--and then I drove off to see the Headmistress. Her name, as the Colonel had mentioned, was Mrs Jennings.

The Headmistress was expecting me. The Colonel had phoned her, and so when I arrived I was shown straight into her study.

Mrs Jennings was a surprisingly small, dark-haired woman of about forty. I realised at once that she must have a very powerful personality to have overcome the disadvantage of her size, but she gave no sign of being bossy or overbearing.

"What do you know about our Academy, Mr Higgins?' she began.

"Not much,' I admitted.

She nodded. 'Excellent. In that case you will start with no preconceptions. Or misconceptions. So let me explain.

"Mrs Smith's Academy is now based in what was once Bedmore Hall, and its extensive grounds. As our name suggests, we were founded in the late nineteenth century by a certain Mrs Smith. From the very beginning our founder specialised in dealing with girls of eighteen or so who were difficult, intractable, disobedient, and generally a worry to their parents. That is still our mission.

"We have always been a private institution, and we charge high fees, so we deal almost exclusively with girls from wealthy homes. But a wealthy home is not always a happy home, Mr Higgins. And nearly all the girls who come to us have given their parents great cause for concern.'


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