Sofia's Story

Mr_Rochester · 07-08-2014, 02:47 PM

Here's part one of my first story on this site. I hope you enjoy!
-------------------

Sofia sat at the back of the classroom, waiting for her History teacher to finish his summing up. She loved listening to him speak, his knowledge and his confidence immediately engaging, but today she was anxious to leave and join the girls for lunch. They had their leavers prom to plan for, timings to decide on, transport to book and dresses to finalise.

"So," Mr. Francis said, "that will do for now. Leave your books on my desk as you leave please. I'll try and get your homework back to you by next time." He smiled his warm smile. "Have a good weekend all."

"Damn," thought Sofia to herself. She had already packed her book away, and would now waste precious seconds digging it back out again. She grabbed at it quickly, and with a glancing smile at Mr. Francis, put it on the pile of books on his desk.

"Thanks sir," she said as she caught his eye for a moment. "See you on Monday."

* * * *
It wasn't until later, after the excited prom discussions and fevered plans for the summer, that Sofia realised her mistake. In the quiet of her bedroom, she had gone for her notepad with a flutter of nervous energy, ready to write the next part of her story, her 'naughty' story as she had labelled it. She had started it a few weeks ago, something to release the tension of her exam revision and give her something else to focus on. When she first put pen to paper, she had had no idea where it would go. She hadn't written a story since her GCSE English exam, and she had been not much more than a child then. In truth, she had surprised herself with the direction the story had gone. Fuelled perhaps by her musings through the world of fan-fiction, her story had become quickly dark, exploring her hidden desires and dreams, of fleeting sexual encounters and of intoxicating power exchange.

And as she searched for the notepad, eager to write the next section, it was then she realised. She had given it to him. Mr. Francis. Her History book was still in her bag, complete with her homework, and the notepad was gone. She could see herself doing it now, concentrating more on getting out quickly, reaching for the book, catching his eye rather than looking at the book. How could she have been so stupid?

She knew she had a whole weekend of torture now, of wondering whether he would read it, if he would look at it when he realised it was the wrong book, what he would do if he did read it, if he read the story. "Damn it," she said again and again. "The damn story".

She had always liked Mr. Francis. He was a good teacher, and although he was a good deal older than her, in his mid 30s she estimated, he was good looking and good to listen to. He had appeared in her fantasies sometimes over the last two years, authoritative and alluring, and she was glad she had chosen his class. But now, this. How could she ever look him in the eye again? How could she even walk into his room on Monday morning? As she drifted fitfully to sleep, she asked herself the same question again, how could she have been so stupid?

Slenderman - Doctor · 07-08-2014, 02:50 PM

Firstly, welcome to getDare! Great first post. Absolutely loved this opening. I'm excited to read more

Mr_Rochester · 07-10-2014, 04:25 PM

Many thanks for the kind comment. All comments very welcome! Here's the next part:

***************

She had been right. The weekend had been torture, her mind circling around the idea of Mr. Francis reading her book, the story. But all too quickly Monday morning rolled around, and as Sofia wearily ate her breakfast, the reality of seeing him seemed almost too much to bear.

She entered his room for the Monday morning history lesson with her head down, trying hard to look unconcerned, relaxed, preoccupied with her phone. And as the lesson progressed, she did genuinely start to relax. Mr. Francis seemed fine. He was his normal self: breezy, passionate about his subject and interested in what the class had to say about the wisdom of nineteenth century foreign policy. He had asked one of the other students in the class - a boy called Paul, who Sofia knew only in passing - to hand out the books. Sofia's stomach had turned as Paul had put her book in front of her, but had relaxed as she saw that Mr. Francis had written nothing in it. He must have realised it was the wrong book, and passed on quickly. She had tucked it quickly into her back, the relief of getting it back in her grasp tangible.

As the lesson finished, Sofia made sure she was ready to leave. With her history book in one hand, she went past Mr. Francis's desk, put her book down and walked for the door. As she looked up though, she realised he was watching her. "Oh..erm... sorry Sir. I gave you the wrong book on Friday. I thought I'd leave my homework on your desk."

She smiled at him, waiting for his usual polite and warm thanks. But it didn't come.

"Yes. I did notice, " he replied, a wry smile on his lips. "Could you hang on for a moment please."

"Damn," she whispered under her breath again as Mr. Francis looked up to see the last of the class out of his room. She could feel a blush rising on her cheeks, a blush that quickly intensified as he turned to face her. Sofia tried to attempt a normal tone.

"Sorry about that," she said, steeling herself to look him in the eye. "I left in too much of a rush on Friday."

He nodded, and looked down at his feet for a second, as if caught in a moment of hesitation. When his gaze lifted the wry smile traced across his lips again. "In too much of a rush to get your story finished perhaps?"

He knew. He'd read it. Sofia's mind raced for a reasonable excuse, a sensible reply, but she couldn't find one. She was aware she was stuttering, trying to get a word out, any word, but it just wouldn't come. What would he do now? Report her?

It was he who spoke next. "Some story you've got there Sofia," he said, gently. And then, with the same wry smile, "some imagination".

What could she say? "Thank you," would sound ridiculous. Instead, she stayed quiet, looking down at her feet now. She couldn't work out where he was going with this. She wasn't expecting praise.

"I have an offer for you," he said, speaking quietly now, drawing imperceptibly closer. His words caught her by surprise and she looked up quickly to find herself staring into his eyes. "Your story was passionate, and very... arousing... but it was inaccurate, and clumsy at times." He paused before he continued. "I think you're writing about things you only half understand, and I could help you understand them better. If you say no, then that's an end to it. Don't worry, no one else will find out about the story. It's just an offer, for... well, call it research for your next story."

He smiled, his warm, inviting smile this time.

Mr_Rochester · 07-11-2014, 05:14 PM

Ok. Here's part 3. Any suggestions or comments welcome!

*******
Sofia had no idea how to reply, because she had no idea what he was suggesting. His words swam around, refusing to form themselves into any sort of logical order or pattern. Research. Inaccurate. Arousing. He had found it arousing.

As the silence between them gathered, she knew she had to say something. Even in this oddest of social moments, she understood it was her turn to speak.

"I... erm... I'm not sure... I mean.... What do you mean Sir? I don't get it." The words tumbled out, finishing with a sense of bewilderment at the last statement. I don't get it.

He looked at her carefully, then smiled again and spoke quietly, sincerely. "I'm offering to be your teacher Sofia," he said slowly. Sofia thought she detected an edge of excitement in his voice. "I've read your story. I sense that there are some things you long to know, long to discover. But you need to be careful Sofia. The things you have written about are dangerous, dark, and need to be treated carefully. It's something I have some experience of Sofia." As he spoke his eyes intensified, and she found herself looking away from him, in embarrassment, to the floor. "So I am giving you an offer, to let me teach you. I shouldn't of course. You're my student. But you are eighteen, and you're an adult. And I want to teach you."

As he spoke her eyes lifted again, but finding his eyes still fixed on her, she once more looked down. She listened again to his cultured voice, her mind playing and replaying the words he had spoken. This was so unexpected, so confusing. But as her mind began slowly to clarify, the swirling ideas settling into place, there was something she knew. It frightened her and she knew it was beyond dangerous, but she wanted to say yes to him, this clever, passionate man. She had no idea what he meant really, but she knew what he had read, her hidden, secret, desperate desire, and she wanted him.

She looked up, and this time she held his stare. "Yes," she mouthed. "Yes please."

He smiled, and he seemed both relieved and excited. "Good," he said, nodding his head slowly. "I have your email address from your records. I will email this evening. "

As Sofia left the room, carefully shutting the door behind her, she felt lightheaded. "What the hell just happened?" she whispered under her breath. "What the hell did I just say?"

Silvercola · 07-11-2014, 07:29 PM

This is getting good.

Slenderman - Doctor · 07-12-2014, 05:58 AM

This is so well written, well paced and just amazing.

07-08-2014, 02:47 PM	#1
Mr_Rochester Junior Member Join Date: Jun 2014 Location: UK Posts: 8	Sofia's Story Here's part one of my first story on this site. I hope you enjoy! ------------------- Sofia sat at the back of the classroom, waiting for her History teacher to finish his summing up. She loved listening to him speak, his knowledge and his confidence immediately engaging, but today she was anxious to leave and join the girls for lunch. They had their leavers prom to plan for, timings to decide on, transport to book and dresses to finalise. "So," Mr. Francis said, "that will do for now. Leave your books on my desk as you leave please. I'll try and get your homework back to you by next time." He smiled his warm smile. "Have a good weekend all." "Damn," thought Sofia to herself. She had already packed her book away, and would now waste precious seconds digging it back out again. She grabbed at it quickly, and with a glancing smile at Mr. Francis, put it on the pile of books on his desk. "Thanks sir," she said as she caught his eye for a moment. "See you on Monday." * * * * It wasn't until later, after the excited prom discussions and fevered plans for the summer, that Sofia realised her mistake. In the quiet of her bedroom, she had gone for her notepad with a flutter of nervous energy, ready to write the next part of her story, her 'naughty' story as she had labelled it. She had started it a few weeks ago, something to release the tension of her exam revision and give her something else to focus on. When she first put pen to paper, she had had no idea where it would go. She hadn't written a story since her GCSE English exam, and she had been not much more than a child then. In truth, she had surprised herself with the direction the story had gone. Fuelled perhaps by her musings through the world of fan-fiction, her story had become quickly dark, exploring her hidden desires and dreams, of fleeting sexual encounters and of intoxicating power exchange. And as she searched for the notepad, eager to write the next section, it was then she realised. She had given it to him. Mr. Francis. Her History book was still in her bag, complete with her homework, and the notepad was gone. She could see herself doing it now, concentrating more on getting out quickly, reaching for the book, catching his eye rather than looking at the book. How could she have been so stupid? She knew she had a whole weekend of torture now, of wondering whether he would read it, if he would look at it when he realised it was the wrong book, what he would do if he did read it, if he read the story. "Damn it," she said again and again. "The damn story". She had always liked Mr. Francis. He was a good teacher, and although he was a good deal older than her, in his mid 30s she estimated, he was good looking and good to listen to. He had appeared in her fantasies sometimes over the last two years, authoritative and alluring, and she was glad she had chosen his class. But now, this. How could she ever look him in the eye again? How could she even walk into his room on Monday morning? As she drifted fitfully to sleep, she asked herself the same question again, how could she have been so stupid?

07-10-2014, 04:25 PM	#3
Mr_Rochester Junior Member Join Date: Jun 2014 Location: UK Posts: 8	Part 2 Many thanks for the kind comment. All comments very welcome! Here's the next part: *************** She had been right. The weekend had been torture, her mind circling around the idea of Mr. Francis reading her book, the story. But all too quickly Monday morning rolled around, and as Sofia wearily ate her breakfast, the reality of seeing him seemed almost too much to bear. She entered his room for the Monday morning history lesson with her head down, trying hard to look unconcerned, relaxed, preoccupied with her phone. And as the lesson progressed, she did genuinely start to relax. Mr. Francis seemed fine. He was his normal self: breezy, passionate about his subject and interested in what the class had to say about the wisdom of nineteenth century foreign policy. He had asked one of the other students in the class - a boy called Paul, who Sofia knew only in passing - to hand out the books. Sofia's stomach had turned as Paul had put her book in front of her, but had relaxed as she saw that Mr. Francis had written nothing in it. He must have realised it was the wrong book, and passed on quickly. She had tucked it quickly into her back, the relief of getting it back in her grasp tangible. As the lesson finished, Sofia made sure she was ready to leave. With her history book in one hand, she went past Mr. Francis's desk, put her book down and walked for the door. As she looked up though, she realised he was watching her. "Oh..erm... sorry Sir. I gave you the wrong book on Friday. I thought I'd leave my homework on your desk." She smiled at him, waiting for his usual polite and warm thanks. But it didn't come. "Yes. I did notice, " he replied, a wry smile on his lips. "Could you hang on for a moment please." "Damn," she whispered under her breath again as Mr. Francis looked up to see the last of the class out of his room. She could feel a blush rising on her cheeks, a blush that quickly intensified as he turned to face her. Sofia tried to attempt a normal tone. "Sorry about that," she said, steeling herself to look him in the eye. "I left in too much of a rush on Friday." He nodded, and looked down at his feet for a second, as if caught in a moment of hesitation. When his gaze lifted the wry smile traced across his lips again. "In too much of a rush to get your story finished perhaps?" He knew. He'd read it. Sofia's mind raced for a reasonable excuse, a sensible reply, but she couldn't find one. She was aware she was stuttering, trying to get a word out, any word, but it just wouldn't come. What would he do now? Report her? It was he who spoke next. "Some story you've got there Sofia," he said, gently. And then, with the same wry smile, "some imagination". What could she say? "Thank you," would sound ridiculous. Instead, she stayed quiet, looking down at her feet now. She couldn't work out where he was going with this. She wasn't expecting praise. "I have an offer for you," he said, speaking quietly now, drawing imperceptibly closer. His words caught her by surprise and she looked up quickly to find herself staring into his eyes. "Your story was passionate, and very... arousing... but it was inaccurate, and clumsy at times." He paused before he continued. "I think you're writing about things you only half understand, and I could help you understand them better. If you say no, then that's an end to it. Don't worry, no one else will find out about the story. It's just an offer, for... well, call it research for your next story." He smiled, his warm, inviting smile this time.

07-11-2014, 05:14 PM	#4
Mr_Rochester Junior Member Join Date: Jun 2014 Location: UK Posts: 8	Part 3 Ok. Here's part 3. Any suggestions or comments welcome! ******* Sofia had no idea how to reply, because she had no idea what he was suggesting. His words swam around, refusing to form themselves into any sort of logical order or pattern. Research. Inaccurate. Arousing. He had found it arousing. As the silence between them gathered, she knew she had to say something. Even in this oddest of social moments, she understood it was her turn to speak. "I... erm... I'm not sure... I mean.... What do you mean Sir? I don't get it." The words tumbled out, finishing with a sense of bewilderment at the last statement. I don't get it. He looked at her carefully, then smiled again and spoke quietly, sincerely. "I'm offering to be your teacher Sofia," he said slowly. Sofia thought she detected an edge of excitement in his voice. "I've read your story. I sense that there are some things you long to know, long to discover. But you need to be careful Sofia. The things you have written about are dangerous, dark, and need to be treated carefully. It's something I have some experience of Sofia." As he spoke his eyes intensified, and she found herself looking away from him, in embarrassment, to the floor. "So I am giving you an offer, to let me teach you. I shouldn't of course. You're my student. But you are eighteen, and you're an adult. And I want to teach you." As he spoke her eyes lifted again, but finding his eyes still fixed on her, she once more looked down. She listened again to his cultured voice, her mind playing and replaying the words he had spoken. This was so unexpected, so confusing. But as her mind began slowly to clarify, the swirling ideas settling into place, there was something she knew. It frightened her and she knew it was beyond dangerous, but she wanted to say yes to him, this clever, passionate man. She had no idea what he meant really, but she knew what he had read, her hidden, secret, desperate desire, and she wanted him. She looked up, and this time she held his stare. "Yes," she mouthed. "Yes please." He smiled, and he seemed both relieved and excited. "Good," he said, nodding his head slowly. "I have your email address from your records. I will email this evening. " As Sofia left the room, carefully shutting the door behind her, she felt lightheaded. "What the hell just happened?" she whispered under her breath. "What the hell did I just say?"

07-08-2014, 02:50 PM	#2
Slenderman - Doctor Truth or Dare Zealot Join Date: Jul 2009 Posts: 6,760	Firstly, welcome to getDare! Great first post. Absolutely loved this opening. I'm excited to read more

07-11-2014, 07:29 PM	#5
Silvercola Senior Member Join Date: Sep 2008 Posts: 169	This is getting good.

07-12-2014, 05:58 AM	#6
Slenderman - Doctor Truth or Dare Zealot Join Date: Jul 2009 Posts: 6,760	This is so well written, well paced and just amazing.