The day after our anniversary, I woke up feeling rather chipper. Spending a romantic evening with my wife had buried deeper the doubts I'd been having about my true identity. They weren't gone completely: there remained a lingering voice trying to tell me that something was wrong, but I chose to ignore it. I couldn't possibly be Dennis Mellon; my body clearly demonstrated otherwise. Plus every single person I'd interacted with the previous day - my wife, pupils and colleagues - all referred to me as Denise or Mrs McGrath. My doubts could do one as far as I was concerned. I was Denise McGrath, a beautiful 28-year-old lesbian schoolteacher. That was my life, and it was a good one.

Tessa was still in bed as I got up, but that was fine as she wasn't going to be working until this afternoon anyway. I showered as usual, then got dressed. I chose to wear a plain white t-shirt bra with matching high cut panties under a cute denim mini dress. All ready, I headed downstairs.

Yesterday I was strapped for time, what with all of the confusion, but today I had opportunity to grab some breakfast before heading out of the door. I was eating a bowl of Special K in front of 'Good Morning Britain' when Tessa strolled down the stairs. She had slept naked, like I had, but had pulled on an oversized black t-shirt to cover up her modesty this morning. She took up a seat in the single armchair.

"Morning babe", I said as she entered the living room. "Want some breakfast?"

Through a stifled yawn she replied: "No thanks. Will sort myself out in a bit."

I finished off my cereal and then said I'd better be heading out to work. I walked over to her before leaving, to give her a quick peck. We gazed into one another's eyes after breaking off the kiss. I could have stayed there all day, but duty called and I had to be heading off.

"Catch you later", I said, exiting the living room and putting on my white pumps. "Love you."

"Love you too, baby girl", she shouted back from the living room.

I left for work feeling full of love and happiness.

My day at school went by relatively fine. I did have some trouble maintaining authority over year 8, something that I didn't typically have trouble with, but everything else was smooth sailing.

The year 7s were always a joy to teach. They were new to secondary school life, so there was trepidation in their eyes that first week. I always found year 7s the easiest age to teach as they were the most afraid of authority. Not that I was strict, quite the opposite, but the threat of detention definitely scared them more than the older students.

Year 8s were more tricky to teach. They didn't have any exams to prepare for and had got used to secondary school life. This meant that they now knew detentions were really no threat at all and that teachers had very little power to stop them misbehaving, if they really wanted to. Luckily, most of them were respectful, but some did like to push the boundaries as much as they could.

Years 10 and 11 were now preparing for their GCSEs. This made them a bit more cooperative, but there were still some who tried their luck. It was also the age where they were more clued up to the real world, so some could be quite crude. However, most genuinely wanted to achieve good grades, plus I was teaching set 2 year 10 and set 1 year 11, so most were academically smart and therefore had a real interest in the subject, a few exceptions aside.

Year 12 had chosen to study English Literature for their A-Levels and had actively chosen to stay on in sixth form rather than go to college or to start working. They therefore had no choice but to listen, otherwise I could easily throw them out of my class. They were rather pleasant to teach and we're definitely the group you could have the most grown-up and proper conversations with.

I was not teaching years 9 or 13 this year, so the five aforementioned age groups were my full cohort of students for the year. I was lucky not to have a year 9 class as they tend to act very similarly to year 8s, but I did miss teaching year 13 as they tended to involve the most mentally stimulating lessons and conversations. But I was more than happy with my current allocation, as it meant teaching 20 lessons per week with 5 free periods.

I wrapped up by teaching year 7 in period 5, which was a nice way to end the day. I then stayed for a couple of hours marking and preparing for the next day.

I headed home at about 4.50pm. I'd received a text from Tessa during the day saying that she'd be late home so to go on and make myself food. It wasn't like Tessa to be late home and it was a rarity for me to have to cook my own dinner. But this didn't sully my upbeat mood in the slightest. I would have a nice chilled evening and be ready for Tessa when she got home (and I would be optimistically hoping for a repeat of the previous night's bedroom antics, which had lit a spark in me that hadn't been there before!).

I unlocked the front door and slipped off my pumps in the hallway. I headed upstairs to get changed. I pulled my dress off and stood in my bra and panties contemplating what to wear for the evening. It was quite a warm day, being early September, and I wasn't quite sure what would be best suited to the humidity. In the end, I decided the underwear I was wearing would suffice. After all, nobody would be seeing me this evening, only my wife, and she had seen me wearing less!

I skipped downstairs and prepped myself a microwave lasagna. I flicked through the box set options on the TV and settled on 'Pretty Little Liars'. For some reason, I was usually attracted to more action-based or horror-based TV shows and films. But today I wanted to watch some girlie drama. I'd never watched 'Pretty Little Liars' before, but it looked good to me, so why not give it a try?

I ate my lasagna in front of the TV and got myself a bowl of ice-cream for dessert. Watching TV in your lingerie while stuffing your face with ice-cream: I couldn't imagine a better life! Well, the only way it could be better was if Tessa was with me. But she'd be home later, so this would be plenty for now.

I got so engrossed in the TV that three episodes went by before I was brought out of my reverie by the doorbell ringing. I got up and opened it without thinking. It was a delivery driver dropping off a parcel. I opened the door as he was keying something into the gadget he was holding.

"Hiya. Can you sign here..." he said, before trailing off. He had turned his attention from his device and now was looking me up and down. Confused, I signed where he had pointed. He was still looking at me slack-jawed, and I had no idea at the time why that was. He was a handsome Asian chap, probably around the same age as me, but his stunned expression was rapidly diminishing his attractiveness.

"Can I have the parcel please, sir?" I asked.

"Oh...um...yeah, of course...sorry about that." He handed over the parcel with a huge grin.

'What a creep!' I thought, but I just said "thanks."

"You're more than welcome, darling. I just wish more women would answer the door in just their underwear!" He laughed loudly as he walked up the driveway and back to his van.

It was only as he said those words that I remembered that I was only wearing my white bra and panties! I blushed deeply, door still wide open. And then, to my horror, two of my year 10 pupils happened to be walking by down on the opposite pavement.

"Looking good Mrs McGrath!" One of them called over.

"Gawd! Is that what she was wearing under her dress today? Must remember that for the wank bank later!" The other said, loud enough for me to hear.

I was about to slam the door shut, when Tessa walked up the driveway giggling to herself.

"Jesus, Denise. Why you flaunting your body for the whole street to see?" She was still laughing to herself as she entered the hallway, but I was mortified. I hurried her inside and then shut the door.

"Shit!" I said. "I forgot what I was wearing and just answered the door for this." I held up the package.

"Oh, thanks for taking that in. It's for me." She took it off me and slid it behind the plant pot that was just inside the front door.

"I can't believe I just did that. Bad enough that the delivery driver was ogling me, never mind two of my pupils seeing me in just my underwear!"

"Well, look on the bright side: looks like you've given at least one of them a memory they'll treasure tonight and probably forever." She found this hilarious. I didn't.

"Oh, don't laugh Tessa. This is bad. They'll bring it up in school tomorrow and I'll be humiliated!"

"Forget about it", she said. Instantly, I forgot about all what had happened in the preceding five minutes.

"Forget about what?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Exactly." Tessa was smirking. "Now, go and make me some food. I'm starving." I immediately went to the kitchen and prepared her a plate of lasagna, just like I had eaten earlier. I returned to the living room to find her sat on the sofa wearing just her underwear: a plain black bra and matching thong. God, she was gorgeous!

I handed her the plate and she gave me a kiss as receipt. I sat on the sofa beside her. I turned off what I had been watching and flicked on 'Emmerdale' on the terrestrial channels. When she had finished eating, she told me to take her plate and wash up whatever there was to clean. I obediently followed these instructions. I wasn't used to making dinner or cleaning up afterwards, but I had done exactly as Tessa had told me to do without protestation or accompanying thought.

I rejoined her on the sofa when I was done and we continued to absentmindedly watch whatever was on the TV. We spoke about each other's days and then decided to call it a night. We headed upstairs and got ourselves ready for bed. Tessa got into bed in just her bra and panties; I pulled out some pyjamas and was about to take off my underwear to put them on when Tessa said: "don't wear pyjamas, Denise, your underwear will do fine for tonight." My hands loosened as soon as she said those words and the pyjamas fell to the floor.

"Come and lie with me", she said. I did.

"Kiss me", she said. I did.

We kissed until she broke it off.

"Funny what happened this evening, with you and the delivery guy."

"What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"So it really does work?" she mumbled, barely audibly.

"What works?" I asked, confused and a bit irritated.

"Suck your thumb", she instructed.

I put my thumb in my mouth. But I still said, "what 'works', Tessa?" The sound was stifled but I was still understandable.

"Remove your bra." I unhooked the clasp of my bra and took it off, flinging it to the ground. My boobs jiggled as I moved back to lie opposite Tessa again. My thumb was instantly reinserted into my mouth once the bra and been slid off my arm.

"Tell me what you mean", I implored. Again, I was understandable but muffled due to my thumb being in my mouth.

"Nothing." She had finished her little experiment, at least for now. My thumb sucking and taking off my bra on command had satisfied her enough.

"No, go on, please tell me." My thumb was still in my mouth.

"I'm not going to."

"Why not?" Thumb still in mouth.

"Take your thumb out of your mouth and go to sleep. Forget about the last five minutes." I took my thumb out of my mouth and I was out instantly. When I woke up in the morning, I'd forgotten all about what she had said about "it really does work".

Unbeknownst to me, I was now her little puppet.

The next day, I woke up with zero recollection of the moments before I had fallen asleep. I had intended on initiating sex with Tessa when we got into bed, but I must have fallen straight asleep, as I had no tangible recall of anything else happening. All I could clearly remember was us heading upstairs together. What happened after that, I simply couldn't remember. I must have been really tired and fallen asleep immediately!

My alarm sounded at 5am and I slowly got up and out of bed. I was wearing only my panties, finding my discarded bra atop a pair of pyjamas that for some reason were left crumpled on the floor despite clearly not having been worn. I decided I would obviously change my panties, but that the bra would do for another day. I folded up the pyjamas and put them back away. I hooked the bra over the bedpost ready for getting dressed after my shower.

As per my routine, I showered straight away and then got dressed for work in the bedroom. I put on my bra first, then walked over to my underwear drawer to select a pair of panties. As I opened the drawer, Tessa walked up behind me and enveloped me in a hug.

"Morning", she whispered into my ear as her hand started squeezing my breasts through my bra. Her touch was gentle yet authoritative. She rested her head on my right shoulder.

"Morning, babe", I returned, stroking her cheek.

She manoeuvred her right hand away from my breast and down towards my crotch. With one hand cupped over my left boob, she began gently stroking the outside of my exposed vagina with her other hand. As much as I was turned on, and wanted her to do more oh so badly, I needed to get ready for work. I told her as such, and moved her hands away from my intimate parts.

"Okay", she whispered, before gently biting my ear. "But we'll do something special this evening."

She moved from behind me to the front. She looked in the drawer and pulled out a pair of high rise, bright pink cheetah-print knickers.

"Wear these today", she said. "They suit you." She held them open for me to step into and so I did. She pulled them up into place, then pulled me in for a snog, all while cupping my ass. It was me who had to reluctantly break it off.

"I really wish I could stay here all day. But I have to get going."

"I know. I'm going back to bed...just couldn't resist touching up my beautiful wife a little, y'know. I really do love seeing you parade around in your undies." She laughed and gave my bottom a cheeky slap. "Have a good day and I'll see you later." She gave me one final kiss and then jumped back into bed.

I finished getting dressed by donning a pink and white plaid pencil skirt and a white long-sleeved blouse. I fixed my makeup, let my hair do its thing naturally, and headed downstairs for a quick bowl of cereal. What I wanted to spend the day doing was making love to my gorgeous wife, doing whatever it was she wanted me to do to her...but I would have to be patient and wait until the evening. For now, I had to head into work.

I taught my year 8 class during first period. They were even more rowdy than they had been the previous day. They weren't uncontrollable just yet, but I sensed that they had little respect for my authority. This was a bit of a worry.

After having two full days of lessons, this was the first day when I had a free period, which came during the second teaching hour of the school day. A lovely lesson with year 7 followed that - they were quickly becoming my favourite class to teach - while period 4 was spent discussing Hamlet with year 12. The day rounded off with me teaching year 10, in what ended up being a peculiar hour in my day.

As the class entered, one of the boys, Billy, said to me as he walked by my desk and to his seat: "looking good again today, Mrs McGrath." He winked as he said this. That sent a shiver down my spine. There was a knowing glint in his eyes which unnerved me, even though I had little idea what had made him say such a remark. But, most of all, I just found it creepy that a male student could be so overtly flirtatious. It made me feel a little sick.

Albeit a little put off by Billy's comment, I delivered most of my lesson uninterrupted. 'Lord of the Flies' was the book that the class was studying and after a brief discussion about leadership traits in characters I set the students a task to mind map all words with connotations to leadership. As they were doing this, I went round the groups to ask about their thoughts and see what they were coming up with. Billy was sat by Benji, who, like Billy, had a reputation for being a disrupter. But they were obediently carrying out the exercise I had set, until I left their table and I heard Benji say very quietly to Billy, "do you reckon she's wearing the same underwear as yesterday? God, she looked fit in just her bra and panties!" They both snickered and had their eyes trained on me the whole time.

I walked over to them and said in my most authoritative voice, although whispering so that only they could hear: "what did you just say, Benji?"

"I didn't say anything."

"No, go on, repeat what you just said."

He remained silent.

"Now!" I ordered.

He waited a beat before saying: "I was just asking Billy if he agreed that leadership is best defined through a characters actions rather than their spoken dialogue."

"And I think that Benji makes a very astute point when he says that", Billy interjected.

They were both smirking. 'Pair of little pricks', I thought, as I knew for certain what I'd just heard. But I decided it was best to let it slide. I had no idea why they were talking about me and my underwear, but I'd have to just put it down to immature banter in the classroom. Instead I just said, "that's great, make sure you write it down." I beamed them a synthetic smile.

"Will do, Mrs McGrath!" Benji said, mockingly. The boys started snickering again as I began to walk away.

"Jeez, what's got into her?" Benji mused just above a whisper in volume.

"Dunno. Probably her time of the month." Billy retorted. This sent them into fits of stifled laughter.

I bit my tongue, choosing to ignore the two of them, and headed back to my desk.

We discussed some of the students' ideas about leadership as a class, and then the bell sounded to mark the end of the school day. Class dismissed, I marked and planned for a bit before heading for home.

I was barely through the front door when Tessa sprang upon me with kisses and hugs. She was wearing a pair of denim jeans and a black top, with her hair left to flow naturally down her back. Thinking I was about to get lucky, I began to unbutton my blouse, when Tessa stopped me from doing so.

"Keep what you're wearing on. Takeaway has been ordered for tonight. I've got something special planned."

I kicked off my heels and was led by Tessa into the living room. The blinds were drawn and some candles were lit. On the floor was a photo album.

"I thought we could relive some of our memories", she said. "Pop on into the kitchen and pour us both a bottle of red wine. And then bring the bottle in with you for top ups."

I returned shortly after with the drinks and bottle. Tessa was sat on the living room floor with the photo album open.

"Don't talk for the next half hour", she directed. "Let me talk you through the book."

I tried to reply, "OK", but was unable to utter that solitary word. It was like my mouth was glued shut. But being unable to talk did not perturb me, as it was what Tessa had requested anyway.

She then proceeded to talk me through the story of our lives together in picture form. There were hundreds upon hundreds of pictures, but the following are some of the major ones:
- A picture of us at a restaurant on a date. I'm wearing a glittery gold dress that really amplifies my boobs and Tessa is wearing a red sequin dress. Apparently, this was the date on which we agreed to become an official couple.
- Multiple pictures of a holiday to Bali. In one I'm wearing a black tank top and denim shorts while a monkey is trying to pull down my top. Tessa said she couldn't stop laughing for ages afterwards.
- Another holiday we had was to Paris, which is where Tessa said she proposed to me in front of the Eiffel Tower. It's a beautiful series of pictures, her getting down on one knee; me holding out my hand to accept; us embracing afterwards, officially each other's fiancées...but I always thought it had been me who proposed, and Tessa who said yes?! Maybe my mind was back to playing tricks on me, as these pictures indicated that my interpretation of events were patently incorrect.
- Loads of pictures of us on our wedding day. We're both heading down the aisle in one after saying our vows, hand in hand with flowers being thrown over us. We're both wearing beautiful white wedding dresses. Other pictures from our wedding day included: a group photo of both of our families with us at the forefront; a picture of our first dance, which apparently was to Ed Sheeran's 'Thinking Out Loud' ('cute, even if a little cliche!', I thought); and several. pictures of us celebrating with various guests.

The takeaway - Chinese - arrived as we were about halfway through the album. I answered the door to the delivery driver, and Tessa and I both ate it while sat on the living room floor, flicking through the remaining photos. I had regained the ability to speak by now, which was lucky in answering the door to the delivery guy, but still sat in silence as Tessa narrated our life together. I was captivated by her voice.

We were both smiling in every single photograph within that album. That cheered me, as it was confirmation of a wonderful life spent with a woman I truly loved. And in my heart of hearts, I knew with perfect clarity that I did love Tessa, and would do literally anything for her. My love for her was absolute, unflinching and eternal.

But I was unsettled by the fact that I had no tangible memory of the events occurring as Tessa described them. For example, I knew we were married, and that we'd had a lovely day celebrating with all of our closest friends and family. But details of the ceremony, reception and even how we spent our honeymoon were all blurred in my mind. I knew that they had happened, but what happened within them was a mystery to my knowing mind. I just had to accept Tessa's words for how those events unfolded. And I, almost without exception, did just accept Tessa's version of events as being infallible.

Yet, the biggest seed of doubt in my mind at that moment was the proposal. I was growing in certainty that there was something plainly wrong about those photos: I was 99% sure that it was me who had got down on one knee in front of the Eiffel Tower to propose to Tessa, and it was she who had said "yes". So why were the photos illustrating otherwise?

I considered raising this with Tessa, but she was speaking with such joy and clarity that I did not want to disturb her while she was in full flow. Seeing her run through our relationship with such pleasure made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Why spoil this beautiful moment by potentially raising an arguing, particularly one that I had no evidence for and wasn't myself 100% certain on?

We came to the end of the album as we were just finishing off the bottle of wine. The last photos were of a little getaway we had towards the end of that year's summer holidays. We looked just as in love as we did on our wedding day.

I was sat with half a glass of wine, looking up at the ceiling in a moment of contemplation, when Tessa snapped me in a photo. Seeing the flash of her phone camera out of the corner of my eye, I turned to her looking a little puzzled.

"Sorry, you looked so cute just then babe, I couldn't resist."

"Oh, ok", I said and smiled gently. Her compliment flattered me.

"Here, pose like that again for us, will ya?."

I looked up towards the ceiling and took up my previous pose.

Tessa crawled towards me and tilted my chin up half an inch. She then lowered my hand that was hold my glass closer to my chest.

"Hold still while I take another photo." I stayed still until she confirmed that she had the photo that she wanted.

"Let's take a couple more", she said, crawling back towards me. "I think it's time we started a new album, don't you?" She then proceeded to unbutton my blouse while pecking me with kisses. With my blouse unbuttoned, she pulled it off my body, leaving me in just my bra and skirt.

"Same pose as before, babe." I took up that position. She took her photo.

"Nice. Now, pull your bra straps down your shoulders a bit." I let them hang loose down my arms and Tessa took more photos.

"Amazing! God, you look sexy baby girl! Take your bra off, I want some I can really treasure". I took my bra off and reconvened my pose, but kept my boobs covered with my free arm.

"Ooo, I like that. That makes for some great shots!" She took some photos of me positioned like that. "They're really nice, but go ahead and remove that arm from your tits. I want some of you in all of your natural beauty".

I removed my arm and let it hang loose by my side. She took another set of photos.

"Last ones, for now. Let's get that skirt off you!" I wriggled out of the skirt and placed it by my other clothes. I took up my designated position, now wearing just my pink leopard-print panties.

"Perfect! Oh, these are great, Denise. You're an absolute stunner." She kept flicking through the photos on her phone. I swear I could see her licking her lips as she was looking them over.

"Can I see them, babe?" I asked, making my way round to her side so that I could see the phone screen.

Quickly, she locked her phone off and placed it face down on the floor.

"Not just yet. It's for a little something I'll show you later. For now, why don't we make the most of..." she didn't finish her sentence but instead pounced upon me. She had me led on my back on the living room floor and was led on top of me. She reached into my knickers and began to finger me. As she did that, she began to lick my breasts.

She was less aggressive in her fingering than she had been two nights prior. She caressed my cunt so tenderly. I was in ecstasy. I didn't finish as quickly as I had earlier in the week, but she still didn't have to much to make me cum. She removed her fingers and licked them clean. She got up off the floor and pulled me up with her.

"Why don't we head upstairs and watch a film in bed? You can choose what we watch."

I nodded in agreement. While Tessa put the photo album back away, I put my worn clothes from the day, including my knickers, in the washing basket. After completing these mini tasks, we made our way upstairs and got dressed for bed. I put on a white silk chemise and shorts; Tessa, decided to wear an identical set to me, only her's were red.

I hopped into bed and scrolled through the options before deciding on 'Mean Girls', something that I somehow had never watched before. Throughout the film, I sat in between Tessa's legs. She cuddled me and occasionally gave my boobs a squeeze through my chemise. She would also sometimes move her hands down my shorts and gently trace around my vagina. But we didn't go any further than that on that particular night.

Part of me felt as though I should be returning the favour after Tessa had satisfied me so beautifully downstairs earlier. But I was so much enjoying her delicate touch that I was not able to be moved to protestation. Oh well, I'd make it up to her on another night.

I enjoyed the film and wondered why I had never watched it before. It seemed so much suited to my tastes as a woman. But at least I could say that I had seen it now. As soon as it finished, we turned it off and both went to sleep.

Our evening together had been lovely. However, the voice which was straining to be heard when I woke up on that first day had now returned. I couldn't hear what it was trying to tell me, but I knew that it was there. And my mind had been slightly disturbed by the inconsistencies between the pictures and my vague (very vague!) recollection of how the events they depicted had actually transpired. I had the distinct feeling now that Tessa was hiding some sort of secret from me...but what could it possibly be? And she had been so loving and kind, that I couldn't possibly imagine that she was withholding something malicious from me.

I was also confused as to why she was taking pictures of me in various stages of undress. But I attributed that to wanting some sexy pictures of her wife for personal use, and perhaps she would pose likewise for me at another time? Hopefully...I would enjoy that immensely!

I made a mental note to bring the subject up with her, about the inconsistencies between the photos and my patchy memory. I didn't want to do it now tonight though, as it had gotten late. But it was important that I got these thoughts off my chest. And we clearly had such a committed and loving relationship, that I was certain nothing I said could disrupt our harmony. I would speak to her as soon as the appropriate opportunity arose.

I shut my eyes for the time-being and got some important beauty sleep.

The weeks passed by, and before I knew it we had reached the October half-term break. I was relieved to finally have a week off work. While some of the classes I was teaching were enjoyable - year 7 were just so infectious in their naive enthusiasm, and year 12 were quite profound in some of their observations on Shakespeare and Christina Rossetti's poetry - the others were becoming less and less pleasant.

My year 8 class now had zero regard for my authority and were largely uncontrollable; not one lesson went by without me doling out at least one detention for unruly behaviour (not that the offending parties would ever turn up for these detentions!). As for my GCSE classes, despite them both being academically astute, neither seemed to be fully engaged with my lessons. I found it exasperating trying to stimulate discussion; they simply weren't interested. I'd never had this trouble in my teaching before, but I was hitting a brick wall now. However, I was hopeful that the half-term break would provide a bit of respite from my classroom struggles and I could reset things after we reconvened.

During this time, mine and Tessa's relationship remained smooth sailing, at least for the most part. I did try on multiple occasions to bring up my questions regarding our engagement photos, but each time she would shut it down by saying that I was being silly. I would try and pursue the discussion further, feeling deep down that there was something I wasn't being told, but each time she would sigh and ask me to drop it. And every time she told me to "drop it", I did...until I would bring it up again later on. I have no idea how many times exactly I initiated this conversation, probing from a different angle each time, but it must have been at least 5 times, before she told me rather angrily to never start this discussion again. She insisted that she had proposed to me and there was categorically nothing else to discuss. From that point on, I never ventured near the topic again...but that didn't diminish my doubt on the veracity of her convictions.

I did however ask about the photos she had taken of me holding the glass of wine with varying amounts of clothes on. She claimed that she found the days when she was not working to be long and boring, and therefore wanted something she could use to, in her words, "pass the time." As much as I found that an odd reason for the pictures, her eyes looked straight into mine as she gave this explanation and they told me that she was being earnest. Given this supposed sincerity, I felt in no position to deprive my wife of that pleasure. I trusted her, and if she was only using those pictures for her personal pleasure, I was happy to oblige. Plus, I must admit, it was thrilling posing for those photos. I felt sexy...liberated...like a model. I posed for more photos on several further occasions after that first instance. It was becoming a routine for us both.

Other than these photo shoots, we also got into other regular routines. We began attending the gym every Monday and Thursday evening, and went for a run together every Wednesday evening. On Tuesdays, Tessa would spend the evenings out (she never did tell me where she was going), but I was quietly pleased, as this gave me a chance to watch more episodes of 'Pretty Little Liars'. As much as I adored my wife, it was nice to spend some time alone.

We would usually go out on a Friday evening with a group of girlfriends. There was a group of 6 of us - Jane, Annabel, Philippa and Sue, plus Tessa and myself - who would have drinks at our local bar. It did strike me that these were Tessa's friends more than my own, as they had all known each other since their schooldays. They did treat me like one of their own, and it was easy to have conversation and laughs with them, but I still always felt like the outsider of the group. I often wondered why I had no friends other than the ones I met through Tessa. Surely I must have my own group of friends? Ones I had stayed in touch with since school or university? But apparently not.

I didn't mind this too much, but it was another element of my current predicament which rang some alarm bells in my mind. I mainly found comfort in the fact that my family were nearby, and I got to see them basically every weekend as we ate there for Sunday lunch. Tessa would come with me every other weekend. We'd be joined at mum and dad's by my older sister, her husband and their son. All the time we spoke over lunch, they'd refer to me as Denise and would often reminisce on mine and my sister's upbringing. But, just like when Tessa spoke about our relationship when she showed me our photo album, I had no concrete memories of what they spoke about. This upset me more and more, but I tried not to let on. I just felt like there was something wrong with me and that I shouldn't burden everyone else with it. Why should their fun and memories be spoiled by my ignorance?

Tessa's family lived further away, so we didn't see them as regularly as we did my family. But it was Tessa's grandmother's 85th birthday during that half-term and a party had been arranged to celebrate it. We were going to spend a few days up with her family.

We drove up late on the Saturday night to make sure we were there on time for the party the following day. We stayed at a lovely little B&B which was about a 10 minute drive from Tessa's parent's house, where the party was being held. Tessa explained that we would have stayed at her parent's house ordinarily, but other relatives from out-of-town were staying there already. It would be better for us in the B&B as we'd have more space to ourselves.

We were both knackered when we arrived and fell asleep almost immediately. Our alarm went off at 8am the next day. We had a lovely cooked breakfast, and then got ready to go to the party. We showered in turn, Tessa going first, and then got dressed together in the bedroom. I finished showering and entered the room just as Tessa was pulling on her tights. She was wearing a black thong under these, and matching bra.

"I've got your clothes out for you, babe", she said. "Put on your underwear, then we can do each other's makeup."

I pulled up the red Victoria's Secret thong that had been laid on the bed first, then put on the matching push-up bra. Tessa did my makeup first, and then I returned the compliment. We finished getting ready by completing our outfits. Tessa's consisted of a glittery blue mini skirt and a black roll neck sweater. She effortlessly maintained the balance between cute, sexy, and appropriate for a family gathering. The outfit Tessa had laid out for me was a thick strap red bodycon mini dress. I put it on and took a look in the mirror. Tessa could tell from my face that something was worrying me.

"You ok?" she asked, approaching me as she put in her earrings.

"Um, don't you think this is a little...um...revealing?" I asked her. The dress was stunning, but it was incredibly short and also wasn't afraid to show off my cleavage. It didn't seem appropriate for meeting Tessa's family.

"Don't be daft! You look great." She stroked my arm, and suddenly I was reassured.

"Come on, we better get going. We're already running late."

We locked up the room, ready to return later tonight, and got in the car to head to the party.

We were the last to arrive. It was Tessa's dad who greeted us at the front door. I say "greeted": he gave Tessa a hug, but for some reason was scowling at me after Tessa had walked on into the house first. I didn't know whether I should shake his hand, maybe give him a hug, or what, but I got my answer when he walked away without even returning my awkward "hello".

I won't recount the entire party, as it was a particularly unpleasant afternoon for me. For a reason unknown to myself at the time, all of the adults in attendance - namely, all of Tessa's direct relatives - were incredibly hostile. They were all giving me the side-eye and I felt as though they were constantly gossiping behind my back when they thought I was out of earshot.

I'm pretty certain I heard Tessa's dad ask her at one point: "what is she doing here? I thought you had broken up with her for good this time." I didn't catch what Tessa said in return. Obviously not wanting to make a scene at the party, I made a mental note to bring this up with Tessa later. What I thought her dad had said had upset me.

Aside from Tessa's dad, I was also ignored, bar the obligatory introductory conversations, by her mum, brother, grandmother, grandfather and several cousins. I felt so isolated that I began to think that even her parent's dog would hate me (luckily he didn't - Rufus was a lovely little Cockapoo puppy who was constantly jumping onto my lap for cuddles).

The only people who seemed okay with my presence there - other than Tessa, of course - was her sister-in-law, Sue and her two children: Max (7) and Poppy (9). Sue and I struck up a conversation, and it transpired that she too had been made to feel unwelcome, but, like me, had no idea why that was. She, however, had been bold enough to broach the subject immediately with her husband, who audibly told her to not make a fuss and to sit quietly with me in the corner. From that point on, she followed those instructions. And I was happy to stay there with her.

As Sue and I talked, the conversation flowed naturally. Neither of us had met each other before, as far as either of us could recall, but by the end of the party it felt as though we were life-long friends. We even promised to stay in touch on a more regular basis, exchanging phone numbers. It's funny how outcasts can be brought close together!

It was a relief to have Sue for company at the party, otherwise it would have been intolerable. And, I must admit, there was something about Sue which I found really attractive. I know I shouldn't be having these thoughts, being married and all, but I couldn't help it. She wasn't as naturally beautiful as Tessa, not by a long shot, but there was an undeniable chemistry that sparked between us. She was in great shape for a mum of two young children. I didn't believe her when she told me she was 35-years-old as I would have pegged her as being around my age. Her husband, Tessa's brother, was 32, but he looked much older than Sue. I found myself admiring her body, which I internally chastised myself for doing, but I couldn't help myself. She was wearing a beautiful blue floral summer dress that displayed a modest amount of cleavage: she was dressed more conservatively than I, for sure, but was nevertheless still sexy. I knew I shouldn't be admiring her in this way, but I simply couldn't stop my thoughts from returning to her body. How I maintained normal and effortless conversation with her the entire time, I do not know, but somehow I managed.

The party drew to a close pretty early (Tessa's grandma, being 85, wasn't one to party late into the night) so we said our goodbyes around 6pm and left. Well, I say "we" said our goodbyes: Tessa did, but I only really said goodbye to Sue, Poppy, Max and Rufus. I didn't feel obliged to commit to false niceties with the rest of them when they had all been so overtly rude to me. I was reluctant to leave Sue, as I was having a great time with her, but I was certain we'd see each other again soon. I'd never experienced such instant friendship like that before...it was like we had known each other for years.

With nothing else to do, we headed straight back to the B&B. We got in, and as soon as Tessa locked our door I said: "why were all your family so rude to me?" My voice perfectly conveyed my irritation and hurt.

"What do you mean?" she replied, looking nonplussed. She didn't even look at me as she spoke, simply putting the room keys on the bedside table and beginning to take off her earrings.

"Are you being serious? Everyone blanked me. And Sue, for that matter, the entire time we were there. Why was that?"

She sighed. "Babe, you know why."

I most certainly did not know why. "I beg your pardon."

"I don't want to get angry with you Denise, but my family's reactions today were perfectly reasonable given what you and Sue did."

I was flummoxed. Tessa approached me and put her hands on my hips. She was looking straight at me when she said: "Look, let's not dredge up the past. We're past all of that now, and our relationship has never been stronger. Don't worry about how they all reacted today. I love you, babe."

I instantly stopped fretting over the negative reactions I had received at the party and what it all meant.

She put her hands on my cheeks and pulled me in for a kiss.

"Now", she said, withdrawing from me, "I think this place is perfect for one of our little photo shoots, don't you? Go over by the window and face out into the night."

I followed my orders and walked to the bedroom room. The curtains were undrawn. I placed my palms face down on the window sill and then Tessa took her photo.

"Beautiful. Same again, but let's take that dress off you."

She came over, gave my bottom a cheeky pinch through my dress, then helped it up and over my head. Now in just my red bra and thong, I reconvened my pose. She also photographed me by the window with my head rested on my fist, with my head rested on the palms of my hands, and with me facing into the bedroom with one leg bent and my arms splayed out along the windowsill. I took up each pose exactly as she directed and without hesitation.

I was increasingly enjoying being Tessa's model. I no longer was concerned why it was always me and never her being photographed. Perhaps I was just flattered by her constant compliments calling me "gorgeous", "beautiful" and "sexy", amongst other pleasurable things. But I could never refuse to do as told by Tessa, and I didn't want to refuse, either.

After she had all the photos that she wanted of me by the window, Tessa put her phone down and came up to me. We started making out, hands roaming over one another's bodies. I lifted her jumper off her body and she wiggled out of her skirt. Still standing, I pressed her back to me and reached into her tights and panties. I stroked her cunt with my two forefingers and began to probe. Admittedly, I still wasn't as adept at pleasuring my wife as she seemed to be with me, but I was getting better. She gyrated against my body as I quickened my pace. She came and after I removed my fingers she licked them clean.

We made our way over to the bed and proceeded to have the best sex. The best part for me was when Tessa pulled out a strap-on from her bag. She pulled it up over her panties and told me to get on all fours. She took up position to my rear and removed my thong. The phallus made its way into my anus, and she delicately placed her hands on my hips. She began working the thing back and forth, gaining pace and rhythm as she did so. Getting over the initial sensation of penetration, I too began to thrust my backside eagerly backwards to absorb as much of the dildo as I could. Tessa slowed at one point and leaned over so that she was enveloping me (the object was still inside me as she did this). She kissed my back as she removed my bra, leaving me completely naked. She kept her body pressed tightly against mine, her hands now firmly gripping my tits, as she recommenced fucking me. Her movement was less vigorous now, more deliberate and sensual. She kept going until I orgasmed, indicated by my high-pitched moan of ecstasy, and then removed herself and the object from me.

I flopped down onto the bed completely exhausted. She took off the strap-on then lay by me. I offered to return the compliment, but Tessa insisted that was enough excitement for one night. Instead, she removed her underwear so that we were both equally naked, and we lay there, cuddling in blissful silence.

It had been a weird day. But at least I had made a new friend in Sue, and the sex with my wife had been glorious distraction. I went to sleep, totally and utterly infatuated with my gorgeous wife...but, that night, my dreams turned to Sue!

The next day we joined up with Tessa's mum, dad and grandmother for breakfast at a local cafe. Whether or not Tessa had told them to be friendlier to me, I don't know, but the atmosphere was definitely less hostile than it had been at the party. I still wasn't comfortable in their presence, and doubted I ever would be again, but at least everything was now a bit more civilised.

We went back to Tessa's parent's house after we'd finished eating breakfast, had a cup of tea, and then departed for home. I did ask Tessa if she wanted to stay longer, but she was fairly insistent on getting home. We got back home and spent the rest of that day plus the next largely lounging around the house doing nothing.

Then, on the Tuesday, it was Halloween. Being a big fan of horror movies, Halloween is a favourite time of year for me. In the morning, we went out to get in some candy to give out to any 'trick-or-treaters' we may get later in the day, then spent the rest of the day carving pumpkins and putting some spooky decorations up outside our front door.

It was 4pm when Tessa said we needed to get dressed for the evening's festivities.

"But we're not going out, are we?" I asked.

"No", she replied. "But we need to get into the right spirit for it. Plus, Halloween's one of the rare occasions we get to fancy dress. I don't want to miss out on that just because we're not going to a party."

With that said, she led me upstairs to our bedroom.

"I've got a few options for you, babe. You can choose which one you want to wear."

She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled three items out from it. She held each one up in turn for me to inspect, before laying them side-by-side on the bed.

Option 1 was a witch costume. I say 'witch costume', it was essentially just a black latex bodysuit with a mesh miniskirt. It was only obvious that it was meant to be a witch's costume because of the accompanying hat and broomstick.

Option 2 was a devil costume. Again, it was only discernible as a 'devil costume' because of the horned headband and three-pronged staff that came with it. Other than these items, it was just a red bodysuit with thigh-high red leather boots.

Finally, option 3 was a Wonder Woman costume. This consisted of the classic red corset with gold trim, an unbelievably short blue skirt with a starred pattern, and her iconic headband. There were also gold bangles to wear on the arms, a lasso rope, and red stockings.

Whilst I wanted to wear all of them, in truth, I knew that none were appropriate for answering the door on Halloween. If I was going to an adult's Halloween party or was wearing them whilst roleplaying with my wife, I probably wouldn't have hesitated. But to wear when answering the door on Halloween night...

"Babe, I can't wear any of these. They're all a bit...y'know?"

"All a bit...what?"

"Revealing...risqué...slutty, even."

"But you do like them all, don't ya?"

She had her hands on my ass and was grinning from ear to ear. I couldn't help but nod in answer to her question, even if it was rhetorical. Tessa looked into my eyes and said:

"Choose one of them now. Put it on, then wait for me downstairs."

She gave me a kiss before perching herself on the edge of our bed, awaiting my decision. I decided on the Wonder Woman outfit. Although it was hardly 'PG', it was easily the most acceptable: the other two were better suited for a porno!

I stripped to my white cotton bikini panties and pulled the corset around my abdomen. Tessa pulled the strings at the back; it was so tight, it wasn't particularly easy to breathe! And hardly ideal was that it barely contained my boobs, which were threatening to spill out over the top of it.

Corset in place (just!) I stepped into the skirt and pulled it up into place. There was no wig, so I was a blonde-haired Wonder Woman for the day. I completed the ensemble by donning the headband, stockings and bangles.

"Go over there, babe", Tessa directed, pointing to where she wanted me to stand. "Hands on hips, looking up to the ceiling. Bit heroic, like."

I adopted the proposed stance. She snapped a picture.

"Beautiful", Tessa said, clearly happy with the shot. "Right, while you wait for me to get ready, why don't you go downstairs? I'll not be long."

No protest from me. I went downstairs and chilled on the sofa. I was waiting for quite a while and there was no sign of Tessa. The doorbell went in this time, and I was forced to answer as Tessa clearly still wasn't ready. I was incredibly conscious of the outfit I was wearing as I made my way out to the hallway to answer the door. My tits were very much on display, accentuated as they were by the corset, and I wondered if my panties would be visible owing to the shortness of my skirt. But it was too late to change anything now, and I couldn't possibly let the poor 'trick-or-treaters' down by not answering the door. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Twick or tweat", said three adorable little children. One was a little boy wearing a pumpkin costume; one was a little girl dressed as Elsa from 'Frozen'; and the other was another little girl dressed as a Cruella De Vil. They were being chaperoned by a good-looking, grey-haired man, who I assumed must have been their father.

I commented on how amazing they each looked, then held out the bowl of treats for them to help themselves. As they took some sweets for their buckets, I looked up and noticed that the man was stood looking straight at me. He was slack-jawed and his eyes looked like they would pop out of their sockets if they were any wider. I felt simultaneously flattered, unnerved, conscientious, and a little turned on!

The man seemed reluctant to leave the doorway, but did so eventually (admittedly after a period of time that maximised the socially permissible length). They left and I shut the door, just as Tessa was making her way down the stairs.

She was wearing a witch costume, but it definitely wasn't the one she had left out on the bed as an option for me to wear. It consisted of a long black and purple dress, black tights underneath, long black gloves and a pointed witch's hat. Her make-up was incredible, with purple eyeshadow and purple lipstick, plus a pale complexion. She looked the part as the evil witch, but was undeniably sexy with it, even with the wart she had put on her cheek.

"Wow!" I exclaimed. "You look fabulous!"

"Thank you, dearie", she replied, putting on a stereotypical witch's accent as she said it. "Pop to the kitchen and get us some wine. I'm parched."

I scurried to the kitchen and returned with a bottle and two glasses, plus a large bowl of popcorn. We spent the evening sat in our fancy dress, drinking wine and watching horror films. Intermittently, the door would go for some 'trick-or-treaters', and we settled on a rotation where we'd alternate which of us answered the door.

What was quite funny was that Tessa looked so realistic as an evil witch that she definitely spooked out most of the children who knocked; one audibly started crying as she set eyes on Tessa, bless their heart! I didn't have that effect, luckily, but I was definitely attracting the gaze of the dads who were chaperoning their children. They mostly looked pleased (and aroused) at the sight of me. I didn't get the same reaction from most of the women who set eyes on me, tough, most of whom looked on with a trace of disgust (and perhaps a bit of jealousy!).

Admittedly, after overcoming my consciousness over the scarcity of my outfit, I began to enjoy answering the door. Perhaps a bit of me was enjoying attracting the male attention, if the truth be told. By 7.30pm, Tessa stopped answering the door and sent me to go each time. I didn't protest.

We were partway through our second film of the evening when the door was knocked. I went, and was shocked upon opening the door to be greeted by a group of the children from my year 7 class. I was deeply embarrassed, given how I was dressed, but they were perfectly polite, took the candy I offered them, then went on their way. Luckily, no reference was made to the way I was dressed.

I returned to the living room and Tessa asked why I was blushing so deeply. I explained who had just knocked; she just chuckled briefly, and remarked that at least I wasn't wearing just my bra and panties this time. I laughed and agreed, but a part of me felt that this costume was somehow worse.

We were not disturbed again for quite some time, so we assumed that our evening answering to 'trick-or-treaters' had concluded. But at 8.45pm, we had more visitors. I tried to argue with Tessa that we should stop answering the door now as it was getting late, but she insisted I continue answering. I made my way to the door while Tessa sat watching the film, eating popcorn and downing wine.

Our visitors on this occasion were none other than Billy and Benji from my year 10 class!

"Ayup Miss", Benji said, "trick or treat".

I was stunned. I wanted to say: "what the fuck are you two toerags doing here!?" but instead I stammered, "oh...hi boys...aren't you two a bit old to be trick-or-treating?"

"We could say the same thing about you dressing up like that!" Billy retorted, inspiring guffawing laughter from the pair of the bastards.

Benji cut across his pal. "Look, Mrs McGrath, we got a tip-off that Wonder Woman was serving up sweets people who knocked at her house. We couldn't believe what we were hearing, so we thought we better take a look for ourselves. I must admit, I'm surprised to find out my English teacher is a superhero, but the evidence is plain to see."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. If my understanding was correct, word must have spread about how I was dressed on this evening of October 31st. And now, my pupils were coming round just to get a view of the rumours for themselves.

I was unable to conjure any retort or witty remark. I stood there motionless for quite some time. I was frozen.

Billy cleared his throat. "So, can we get some sweets or what?" Both boys were smirking, evidently revelling in my visible discomfort. I held out the bowl for them to take from, which they did, greedily, just as Tessa came to see what was taking so long.

"Um...", I stammered. "Tessa, this is Billy and Benji. They're in my year 10 class."

"Oh, right", Tessa said, her confused expression indicating that I hadn't sufficiently answered her initial query.

"And whom might you be, love?" Billy asked Tessa.

'Fuck me!', I thought. 'How has a teenage boy got the gall to be so blatantly cheeky.'

"I'm Tessa, Denise's wife", Tessa replied. Fortunately, she was retaining her composure much better than I was.

"Holy shit!", Benji exclaimed. "Never knew you were a lesbo, Mrs McGrath. Mad respect!"

The boys giggled. Tessa looked at me, baffled. I looked back at her, incredibly embarrassed.

Tessa cleared her throat and snatched the treats from my hand, preventing the boys taking any more. "Right, boys, you've had your sweets. Me and Denise are going to have some special time now." She flashed them a sultry wink. "So, do us a favour little boys, and fuck off." With that, she slammed the door in their face. She locked it up afterwards, indicating that the night's festivities were over (thank God!).

We returned to the sofa and digested what had happened. I chastised Tessa for swearing at the boys, as I'd no doubt get some flack for it when we returned from half-term. But, deep down, I was pleased, as she'd been brave enough to say what I wanted to but couldn't. Tessa said we shouldn't talk any further about it, which ended that particular conversation. I still replayed it over and over again in my mind, worried about how it would play out in the classroom the following week, but that had to stay inside my head, as I was unable to articulate further on the matter.

The door was knocked on a further 4 occasions after that, but we didn't answer it. The blinds were now drawn, the door was locked, and we sat in the dark (to make the film feel a bit spookier, is what we said, but really it was to make it clear to knockers that we were no longer open for business - not that it stopped them knocking!).

We finished our film, popcorn and wine, then headed upstairs for the night. What followed was another photo shoot, at Tessa's direction. She ordered me into a number of superhero-y poses and snapped some shots. I shed my skirt, and more photos were taken. Then, Tessa pulled out a dildo, handing it to me. We'd not taken photos with the toys before, but were clearly moving onto the next stage of her 'project' now.

Taking the dildo in my hand, I naively asked: "what do you want me to do with this?"

"Play baseball", Tessa sarcastically remarked. "Have a little suck on it first, then start to use it. I'll let you choose how you use it, and where."

It had a suction cup, so I suctioned it to the headboard of the bed. Down on all fours, I crawled towards it. Tessa had now taken up position to photograph me from the side of the bed. I looked towards the camera and saw Tessa nodding enthusiastically. I tucked my hair behind my ears (luckily my headband was still keeping most of it back) and began to work my mouth up and down along the shaft.

It was a plastic material, 7 inches, veiny, and black. I was only getting my mouth halfway down the shaft initially, but Tessa ordered "deeper!", so I worked my way further down. I was gagging as I got all 7 inches inside my mouth, but Tessa told me not to stop, so I didn't. I kept going, my saliva now coating the phallus, until I was eventually told to stop. I was surprised to find myself pretty tired as I removed my mouth from the cock.

"Start using it now, babe", Tessa instructed, and so I took it from the headboard and rubbed it gently against my vagina before slowly working it inside. My panties were removed by this point, but I was still encased in the corset. I worked the object back and forth, beginning slowly and quickening as I went. I was beginning to enjoy the experience of a penis being inside me more than when Tessa's fingers explored my orifices.

Tessa spurred me on, calling instructions from time to time as well as generally encouraging me to keep going. I started on my back, then moved to all fours, then moved back to lying on my back. I was getting better at controlling my pleasure during sex, and lasted a lot longer than I had in my initial lesbian experiences with Tessa. But soon the moment of climax came, and I squirted everywhere. I wouldn't let this on to Tessa, but this was the best orgasm I'd ever felt.

I momentarily wondered what sex with a real man would be like, but banished the thought no sooner than it had appeared - I couldn't be thinking like that! I was married to a beautiful woman, and must remain loyal. It was wrong of me to think about sex with anyone other than Tessa. It betrayed the sanctimony of marriage.

I was sprawled on the bed after finishing my session. Tessa took one final photo of me spread out on the bed, utterly exhausted. She put down her phone and knelt by the bed. She released me from the corset (which was a massive relief!), leaving me stark naked. She made her way round to face me at the other side of the bed.

Stroking my hair, Tessa said: "Good job, baby girl. Very sexy! Go to sleep, now. We'll talk more in the morning." She got up and left the room, turning the light off as she went. In the darkness, I quickly drifted off into a deep and dreamless slumber.

Sadly, the remaining days of half-term went by in a flash, and we were due back at school much sooner than I'd have cared for.

Tessa and I made up for our missed gym session on the Monday of that week by adding an extra three miles to our Wednesday run, rounding it up to a half marathon, and by spending an extra hour at the gym at our Thursday session. My figure had been good to begin with, but all of the exercise we were doing was toning my midriff and plumping up my buttocks. And this progress wasn't even hindered by our regular wine drinking and penchant for takeaway meals. All-in-all, my body was in good nick, and I was feeling good.

However, I was apprehensive about returning to work. The more I reflected, the more I realised just how out of control most of my classes had become. I wasn't sure how much more of it I could take. But returning after the half-term break gave me an opportunity to somewhat start afresh and begin turning things around.

I woke up on the Monday morning feeling a mixture of optimism and dread. I showered, dressed, ate some breakfast, then headed to school. Tessa remained in bed.

I was wearing a round neck, short sleeve, dark blue bodysuit, and a black leather midi pencil skirt over high waist blue panties and a matching balcony bra. One of my favourite parts of the day had become choosing my outfit, and I had grown increasingly fashion-conscious. Even though I was just a teacher, I always wanted to be looking stylish (maybe even a bit attractive), so took my time to achieve the best look I could.

After parking up in the school car park, I strolled through reception, cheerily saying "good morning" to Karen, the school's receptionist. I always exchanged a cursory but amiable morning greeting with Karen before making my way to my classroom, but today I was totally ignored. Slightly perplexed, I looked towards her to see if she had heard me; what met my eyes was Karen staring judgementally through me, a scowl tattooing her face.

'What's got into you?' I thought, but rather than inquire as to the reason for the hostile reception, I continued my walk to the classroom instead. What on earth happened to common courtesy? Had I done something to offend Karen? Better not to dwell on it, I concluded...it wasn't as if she was my bestie or anything.

I entered the unlocked classroom and seated myself at my desk. I started up the computer, logged in, and put my handbag down on my desk. As I put the handbag on the surface, I noticed the edge of something poking out from underneath it. I usually kept my desk clear, so I wondered what it was. I lifted my handbag, and to my horror saw that the 'something' was an A4 black-and-white photograph of me on all fours, deep-throating a dick! Although black-and-white, it was apparent who I was, what I was wearing, and what I was doing! At the bottom in the margin was written: "Thort you liked minge, miss. Good to now you can take dick to. xxx"

I gasped aloud. Bemusement overtook my senses, clouding my judgement and comprehension. It was only after I calmed myself down (I was breathing deeply and hurriedly) that I realised it was one of the photos Tessa had taken of me on Halloween.

How had this photo got out into the world? I thought Tessa was just using them for "her own pleasure"! Had she betrayed me? Had she been hacked? Surely the latter (dear god, please let it be the latter!). And why was it now sat on my desk? Who had put it there? Was Tessa playing some deep and elaborate prank on me? Had another teacher put it there? Or was it one of the bastard pupils? I must be a pupil, as it clearly said: "miss". Benji? Billy?

God, how many people had seen the photo!?

I was panicking madly. My mind was racing and I wasn't sure what to do. I tore up the photo into multiple spreads a thrust them in the bin, making sure it was impossible for the pieces to be retrieved and reassembled like a pornographic jigsaw.

The computer pinged, telling me that it had loaded. Hands shaking, I moved the mouse and opened up my emails. In my inbox was over 200 unread emails. I opened the first, the subject of which read 'naughty girl', sent from an anonymous address. CC'd was the school's headmaster, and all of my teaching colleagues. The contents of the email was a picture of me in the Wonder Woman corset pushing the dildo inside of me. I closed and deleted that particular email immediately, but as I tracked through the rest of my inbox, all others were similarly dirtily titled. I couldn't bear to open any of them so hastily deleted the entirety of my inbox.

By this point, I was hyperventilating and tears were streaming down my face, smearing my make-up. I walked jelly-legged over to the window to get some fresh air. I stuck my head out, arms rested on the windowsill, desperate to get some fresh air on my face. But no sooner had I taken a deep breath and quelled my tears than I heard a shout of: "OI OI MRS MCGRATH! BIT OVERDRESSED AREN'T YA? THINK YOU LOOK BETTER IN YOUR UNDIES, PERSONALLY". Then someone else shouted: "YEAH, MISS! GIVE US A PEAK OF THOSE GORGEOUS TITTIES OF YOURS. NOT LIKE NONE OF US HAVEN'T ALREADY SEEN THEM!".

The collective roar of laughter this generated would have satisfied the best stand-up comedian. A whole host of schoolchildren were gathered outside and were collectively staring up at me, laughing, pointing, and laughing some more. I angrily shut the window, returned to the desk, and started crying even more. Now I was completely bawling, an utter broken mess.

I was sat with my head in my hands unable to stop my waterworks when my morning class - year 10 - started making their way in. It was still too early for today's lesson, but there was clearly an organised effort from them all to get in early to see how events would unfold. An optimist would say that they were just eager to study 'Lord of the Flies'; a realist would say that they were gluttons for my misery.

I looked up sheepishly. All of the faces blurred into one. I couldn't muster the words to speak. Billy and Benji swaggered by my desk, but didn't say a single word. There smirks were enough to taunt me as they were.

Year 10 were all set up at their desks when the school headmaster, Mr Smith, burst into the classroom. He was surprised to see the class full of students so early, so he temporarily repressed the obvious rage he was feeling. Nevertheless, he said, with detectable vehemence in his voice: "Mrs McGrath, my office, now!"

"Ooooo, someone's in trouble!" somebody called out, drawing a bellow of "ENOUGH!" from the irate Mr Smith.

I slowly made my way to my feet, grabbed my stuff, and began the walk of shame towards him and out of the door. Miss Wright, one of the school's supply teachers, edged past me and made towards the desk. I was already being replaced!

The class taunted me as I walked across the front of the room, whistling, jeering, and even catcalling. They were reprimanded again by a vociferous Mr Smith, but that didn't discourage them. As I glanced up one final time, their glee at my predicament was plaintive. I moved out and into the corridor, and Mr Smith slammed the door shut behind us.

We walked to his office, which unfortunately was down a flight of stairs, past the canteen, and just off to the left of the reception area. We passed innumerable students on our way. Some looked partially sympathetic, but the vast majority were revelling in my public humiliation. Mercifully, we made it to his office, even though the realistically short walk felt more like a marathon.

I took up a vacant seat. He stood, back arched, opposite me, with his hands planted firmly on his desk.

"Denise, how the fuck do you explain what I've just seen this morning!?"

"I...I...I...", I stammered. "I...can...explain...". But how could I explain? What could I possibly say as justification or reason? Most of the story and relevant explanation was a mystery even to me, the subject of this awful situation.

"You don't need to. It's pretty clear to me. You're taking pornographic photographs of yourself and posting them for money online."

"For money?" I blubbered.

"Yes, for money! Posting pictures of yourself dressed in next to nothing, playing with those...things, on a subscription site. I can't believe the emails I've read this morning and what they describe. I thought they were playing games, but the evidence speaks for itself." He violently whipped his computer screen around for me to see. The photos was of me in my red Victoria's Secret bra and panties, laying suggestively on the B&B bed. He began flicking through the photos, each one just as incriminating as the last.

I couldn't bear to look at the screen. "Please stop!" I pleaded, my voice cracking as I spoke.

"Stop what? Showing you the photos? If you're so embarrassed by them you should have thought about that before putting them online for any Tom, Dick or Harry to see!" His tone remained accusatory and volatile, and he left the last photo up on the screen, so that it stared me mockingly in the face. I could only look up at him through my barely parted fingers.

"You do realise the consequences this has for us as a school, don't you? We have sponsors, who will see these photos and think we employ sluts as teachers. Not to mention the parents: who in their right mind would send their child to a school where a teacher is essentially a porn star? And then there's the children themselves. I reckon from the reaction I just saw in that classroom and from the rest of them we passed on the way down here that most of them have seen you in just your lingerie, probably even less! How can they possibly respect and learn from somebody so flagrantly selling their body?"

I retorted at this: "you're making me out to be some kind of hooker!" It was a weak argument, but it was all I had. And I couldn't continue taking his flak without at least arousing some counter-argument, no matter how piss-poor it was.

"Maybe not a hooker, but not far off." He was less violently angry now, but still retained the poise of a viper about to strike. "Look, there's little point hashing this out any further. What has been done and seen cannot be undone or erased, no matter how much you may want it to be. Your tenure here is over. You're fired!"

The words were a dagger to my heart, but I had anticipated their arrival at least 10 minutes earlier. There was no point pleading my case or protesting my innocence. My job was terminated, and my teaching career was almost certainly over.

I sat motionless for a bit, still digesting the news despite its inevitability. But my presence in Mr Smith's office, and indeed at the school, was on massively borrowed time.

"You need to leave. Now." There was a trace of sympathy in his voice, yet he was still unequivocal. I stood up, left his office, and left the school.

I tried to keep my head down and move quickly through reception and out to my car. Pupils were still filing in for the start of the new half-term, and it was difficult to find an easy route through the crowd. I'm pretty sure I heard calls of "slut", "whore" and "bimbo", but I tried not to react to them. In the end, the crowd was so hard to get through that I forced my way through and out of the door, barging any fucker who obstructed my path. I was still unbelievably upset, but furious now, too.

I quick-stepped to my car, avoiding eye contact with people who passed. I fumbled with my keys in my attempt to open the driver's door as speedily as I could. Once opened, I jumped inside and instantly locked the doors. I put my head in my hands and began crying some more. Through the blanket of my hands, I saw a flash, then another, and removed them to find some pupils stood around taking photos of my despair. I aggressively honked my horn, hoping to scare them away, but they delighted in witnessing my descent into madness. Recognising the futility of staying where I was, I turned on the ignition and drove away. I almost ran into some of the kids as I made my way out of the car park, but by that point I was past caring.

I drove home erratically, jumping red lights and breaking the speed limit. My humiliation and despair had mutated into fury, and I now knew Tessa had to be responsible. How and why were questions I'd still have to find answers for, but I had to speak to her, no delay.

I pulled up outside our house and marched towards the front door. I tried to open it, but it was locked. I knocked passionately, thudding as hard as I could against the wood.

"TESSA! OPEN UP!" Followed by another pounding on the door. "OPEN UP THIS INSTANCE! TESSA! I MEAN IT, OPEN UP!!!" I was screaming loud enough for people in Japan to hear me. It was little wonder that I attracted a fair bit of attention from some nosey neighbours and general passers by. I continued hammering away at the door, drawing blood on my knuckles. Eventually, Tessa opened up.

I burst past her into the hallway. She calmly closed the door and turned around to face me. My fists were clenched, and I prepared to let her feel my wrath.