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The next day after school, "Anabel, you need to help me. I want to look like you. I want Mr. Johnson to do me like Professor Bridgewater did you."

Lisa Snowden did not come back to the dorm the night of her "date" with Mr. Johnson. No one could remember that happening before. The records went back over a hundred years. No girl had ever spent the night away from her dorm.

The next day, Lisa stood in front of the headmistress trying to explain her behavior without explaining her behavior.

She was confined to her room and was escorted to and from her classes for a month.

"A month? Anabel, I can't go without seeing Mr. Johnson for a month."

"Lisa. Were you with Mr. Johnson all night?"

She smiled. "All night, with my legs spread and Mr. Johnson's face right in my newly shaved, smooth as a baby pussy. Like you said about Mr. Bridgewater, Mr. Johnson couldn't get enough. I couldn't leave. Anabel, it was so good. What if he finds someone else?"

Mr. Johnson did not find someone else. When her punishment ended, Lisa Snowden made sure, with Anabel's assistance, that her pussy was as smooth as a baby's bottom.

Not that she was complaining, but when she did see Mr. Johnson, "Lisa, it's been so long, and you know Mrs. Johnson has no interest in satisfying my needs. Why don't you get on your knees tonight?"

She had to admit that she missed the feeling of Mr. Johnson's cock in her mouth. He insisted that she blow him twice. She was surprised, usually once a night was all he could muster. "You missed my mouth, Mr. Johnson, didn't you?"

"I did, but Lisa, the next time I see you, my tongue won't be able to get enough of your sweet pussy."

"How about tomorrow night?"

The next night, Mr. Johnson could not get enough of Lisa Snowden's bare pussy. She failed to return to her dorm the following night; Mr. Johnson's tongue work was irresistible. She was grounded for another month.

It had happened numerous times over the past one hundred and fifty years. Word spread that the men Lisa and Anabel were seeing could not get enough of their hairless pussies. By early Spring, just months before graduation every girl in the graduating class was bare. Every girl in the graduating class seemed to have a big smile on her face.

The evolving traditions at the Cavendish School for Young Women continued.

THE END

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