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When the headmistress of the Wilkinson School was quietly informed by her predecessor, Miss Katherine Knowlton, of the long-standing tradition, Miss Claudia Harper, soiled her panties. She was closing in on fifty and unmarried.

At her prior position, she was responsible for the academic achievement of young men. She found it unseemly that her duties at the Wilkinson School included discipline. She didn't like the idea of confronting the boys for their misbehavior. Misbehavior that included, but not limited to, possession of pornography, being caught masturbating and even worse being caught in the arms of a girl from the near-by Cavendish School; usually both were naked at the time.

"And, Miss Knowlton, you say this punishment includes the unspeakable?"

"Miss Harper, improper as it may seem, I think you and the young men in your charge, will find it mutually satisfying."

Claudia Harper had perused those pornographic magazines the boys hid under their mattresses; she'd caught them with girls in bed, and Nurse Pendleton at the Cavendish School informed her that on occasion she'd caught a Wilkinson boy in the bed of one of her girls.

Many of her predecessors had gone out of their way to find a suitable boy to taste their quim, cunny, muff, pussy, whatever it was called at the time. Not Miss Harper.

However, less than a year after Miss Knowlton's visit explaining the tradition, Miss Harper found herself checking on Randall Ewing.

Eighteen-year-old Randall Ewing had reported sick and was in his room. Miss Harper, as it was her duty, peeked in his room to see if he was okay.

It wasn't that she was shocked nor was it unexpected, nor had she become immune. Peeking in the sick boy's room, through his partially open door, she did not find him resting or sleeping. Instead, he was lying naked atop his bed, some girlie magazine in hand, and his other hand busy stroking his erect penis.

He didn't see her. She backed away, but just had to take a second look.

The unmarried Claudia Harper was a virgin. She was not familiar with what men had between their legs. Sure, she'd perused the magazines she'd confiscated from the boys, and yes, she'd caught them masturbating; or naked in the arms of those slutty Cavendish girls, but no, she'd never really seen one.

She took a third look. ‘I didn't think they grew that big. My God, it's almost as long and fat as my arm." To be fair, Miss Harper was a petite woman.

This third time, she didn't just peek; she gawked, but for less than a minute. Randall didn't see her; he was too engaged in his sordid activity. Then she took a few steps back down the hallway, making sure her shoes were noisy. Then she knocked on Randall Ewing's door. She'd given him enough time to hide the magazine and cover up.

"Mr. Ewing, how are you feeling?" the concerned headmistress asked.

"A little better. I should be able to go to class tomorrow."

"Good. Are you sure, you don't want me to call a doctor or your parents?"

"No, that won't be necessary."

"I'm so grateful to hear that. Now, Mr. Ewing, Friday after your classes, come to my flat. I want to make sure you're fine."

"Yes ma'am."

The headmistress almost shirked her duties as she perused the magazines she'd confiscated from the boys. Some showed naked women in various poses; showing off their everything. Others, and the ones she was

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