Kiki Archer’s Lesbian Fiction Novel ‘But She is My Student’ Aims for the Big Screen


Below is an excerpt from Kiki Archer’s novel, But She Is My Student 

21-year-old teacher, Kat Spicer is covering a Year 13 (age 18) Judo lesson in the gym:

The gym smelt fusty as Kat walked barefoot over the squeaking floorboards. She sat down in front of the wooden wall bars on a knobbled bench at the back of the hall, relieving Leery Old Lester – who looked like he had been enjoying proceedings far too much – from his cover. She lifted the first of many exercise books out of her yellow plastic box, tapped her red pen on the bench and glanced up. Kat recognised most of the students trussed up in heavy cotton judo whites, and was shocked at how vicious the current move seemed to be. There were about twelve Sixth Formers attempting the basic hip throw, pretending they were being attacked from behind and grabbing their assailant roughly by the arms, flicking their left hip out, pulling the attacker over their right hip and hurling them onto the ground. The bald headed instructor whose tattoos covered most of his neck kept shouting: ‘Maintain your grip, maintain your grip.’ But the students didn’t, and bodies were slamming onto the blue dog-eared school gym mats left right and centre. Kat winced and returned to David Haverley’s drawing of Tintern Abbey, A+ Merit.

‘Right, you’re going to have to take over. Here’s your jodogi, just put it on over your trousers and shirt.’ The barking continued. ‘Good you’re shoeless, you just need to take your necklace off and tie this belt around your middle.’

Kat looked up at the scary bald instructor. ‘Excuse me?’

He pointed at Poppy Jones sitting in the corner. ‘That one’s had enough. Doesn’t quite cut the mustard as far as I’m concerned.’ He stuck his thick thumb over his right shoulder. ‘That pretty one needs a partner and you’re it.’

Kat picked up her red pen. ‘I’m just here to supervise. I’ve got books to mark. Can’t you do it?’

He looked down at the book resting on her knee. ‘Looks more like pictures to me, love. No, can’t pair up male and female. You’re up. That sweaty old geezer got involved, show a bit of spirit, love!’

‘I bet he did,’ muttered Kat, calling Poppy over. There was no persuading her, and Poppy left to join the Library’s embroidery session instead.

The instructor glared at Kat. She had no choice so she stepped into the massive judo whites.

‘Right we’ve got ourselves a new volunteer, because some people can’t stand the pace!’ The loud scary instructor shouted in Poppy’s direction, possibly not aware that this session was meant to improve confidence and teamwork skills. A couple of the group cheered as Kat took a nervous little bow. She lifted her blonde hair in one sweeping movement onto the top of her head, and wrapped her bobble in place – she always kept a spare one handy for book marking. Kat twisted the band and pulled her silky hair into a tight knot, displaying by consequence her long and elegant neck.

‘If you just stand here, love.’ He almost lifted Kat into position in the centre of the blue mats. ‘Right, we’re going to look at some mat techniques now. You’ve got them down…’ He threw Kat over his right shoulder and lowered her onto the mat. She still thudded. ‘So what do you do with them now?’

‘Maybe let go?’ choked Kat.

‘No, you do the Makura-Kesa-Gatame. Or as it’s also known, the Pillow Scarf Hold.’

He proceeded to spin to the ground, sliding his bent right leg under her right shoulder, locking her head with his right arm, and keeping her fixed by holding onto his own knee. Their heads were millimetres apart and he smelt of garlic.

‘Can you move?’

Kat shook her head.

‘No, didn’t think so. Right watch it again.’

In one swift action he’d lifted Kat from the floor, thrown her over his wide shoulder, clattered her onto the thin blue mat and pinned her into submission. The couple of efforts Kat could see from her squashed position on the ground weren’t exactly matching the one just demonstrated, but she could hear whooping and giggling and wails of help from the group who were actually having a fantastic afternoon.

‘Right, I’ve just done it to you, now you do it to her.’ He signalled to Freya and shouted at the noisy group. ‘Keep practicing, I’ll want a demonstration from everybody in ten minutes.’ The bald instructor ushered Kat and Freya to the blue mat near the door. ‘Right, your turn.’

Kat held her breath and stood in front of Freya.

‘Grab her lapels.’

She reached for Freya’s lapels and gently lowered her right shoulder, nudging Freya over the top of her body and sliding her pathetically onto the ground.

‘Get a grip woman! Show me the hold!’

Kat adjusted her stance and knelt down. She slid her knee under Freya’s shoulder and locked her head lightly.

‘Bloody hell, woman, you’d be dead by now! My goldfish could’ve done a better job! Get up!’ He turned to Freya. ‘Right you, pretty eyes, your turn.’

Freya looked at Kat and smiled sweetly before jabbing her hip fiercely and hurling Kat over her right shoulder and onto the mat. She dived into position, pinned Kat down and locked her head tightly.

‘That’s my girl! Now show Miss Prissy Pants here how it’s done!’ He turned to the hall. ‘Group demonstrations in ten! Bloody hell! Better make that fifteen looking at the piss poor state of you lot!’ He marched off shouting insults at the grappling pairs he passed.

Kat and Freya looked at each other and laughed. ‘Is he for real?’ Kat was rubbing her neck.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Well, maybe I did a little bit.’ The last thing Freya wanted to do was appear childish, but their conversation in the corridor had really got to her.

‘Right, madam,’ giggled Kat. ‘No more Mrs nice guy!’

Kat did the move again, more powerfully this time, but still one of the few in the hall who actually kept hold of lapels and lowered their partners to the floor instead of letting go and watching them thud. She moved into the hold and immobilised Freya’s head. ‘Is this better?’ she whispered, literally centimetres away from Freya’s mouth.

‘Yes, it’s perfect.’ Freya was staring up, remembering the image of Kat’s beautiful face moving into hers for their very first kiss. ‘But you forgot to hold your leg!’ She spun onto her stomach, threw her legs around, rolled Kat onto her back, keeping her hands under Kat’s shoulders, and pushed her head onto Kat’s chest. They filled the length of the mat, Kat on her back with toes at one end, and Freya on her stomach with toes at the other.

The instructor couldn’t even see Kat’s head. It was hidden under Freya’s body. ‘Well you are the gold star pupil aren’t you, pretty eyes! Can you remember what it’s called?’

Freya lifted her ear from Kat’s warm soft chest. ‘The Kami Shiho Gatame.’ She returned her head and listened to Kat’s racing heart.

‘Well remembered! You see, long legs, if you’re not firm in your holds your attacker will soon have the upper hand.’

Kat couldn’t see anything. She was face up in Freya’s breasts. The pair giggled and laughed as loudly as the other couples with each move picked up perfectly by Freya and poorly by Kat who was quickly thrown into submission and another excruciatingly close contact position. Kat felt the tension and tried her hardest to ignore the agonizing feeling of Freya’s perfect body pressing against her own, forcefully changing her position and moving their heads unbearably close. Their cheeks brushed and Kat remembered Freya’s incredibly soft skin and the way her rich brown hair smelt deep and intoxicating. There was only about an inch and a half between them in height and their weight must have been incredibly similar, but it was clear to both that Freya was the strongest of the pair. Kat had joked that she hadn’t been trying. That it wouldn’t be fair to use her full force on someone younger than herself. But as Freya lay on top of Kat, pinning her arms above her head into another submission that Kat could hardly pronounce, let alone master, they both knew the truth. Freya was the one in control. Freya took the lead. Freya dominated. Kat couldn’t help but imagine what she’d be like in bed.

Freya saw it. She saw the look in Kat’s eyes. For the first time it wasn’t a look of empathy or compassion; or a look of love. It was a look of desire. There was a heat in Kat’s eyes; a craving. A look of need and want that drove Freya to adjust her thigh and press it firmly between Kat’s legs.

Kat closed her eyes and gasped. ‘We can’t do this,’ she whispered into Freya’s ear.

‘No, not here we can’t,’ she replied.

Their eyes locked in a state of longing, oblivious to the grappling, thudding and shrieking all around them. Kat’s heart was pounding. She couldn’t stop it. She wanted Freya more in that moment than she’d ever wanted anyone before. The long drill of the bell snapped her back into the room and she dropped her eyes to the mat. She studied the jagged tear in its corner and squeezed the soft multi-coloured foam that was peeping through its ripped blue coating. This has to stop. This cannot happen. This simply cannot happen. She lifted her gaze and stared once again into Freya’s expectant green eyes. The pain was unbearable.

‘Now can we talk?’ reasoned Freya.

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