Classroom

A student has an unwelcome interaction with his teacher.

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Classroom

Phil glanced at the classroom door for the fourth time.

“It’s locked. You saw me lock it,” Mr Jones said.

Phil looked back at his teacher. He felt queasy.

“Do I HAVE to?” he wheedled.

“No of course not. But if you don’t, the photos will get out all over the internet and probably the school net, and everyone will know what you did. It wouldn’t surprise me if you ended up being taken into care by social services. If you don’t like the idea of this, wait until you find out what happens in a care home. Or a prison.”

“Prison?”

“Who knows? Depends on the judge. Some can be really strict. You know, the old fashioned Christian types.”

Phil knew all about small town bigotry. considered the proposition for a few seconds, looking at his homeroom teacher to see if the man was being serious. Nothing in the man’s expression suggested he was exaggerating.

Mr Jones shrugged.

“Well?”

With the reluctance of a child going to bed just as an exciting movie comes on, Phil undid the waist clasp of his black school trousers and unzipped the fly. He pushed his trousers to the floor. He was wearing briefs. The pouch drooped, revealing that the boy was well along the path of puberty.

Phil looked at his teacher, allowing the man time to rescind his order. Mr Jones sat on his desk recording on his phone with a half-smile on his face, giving no indication that he was going to let the teenager get away lightly.

Phil lowered his briefs past his knees. His genitals flopped free; a reasonable size for his age. The boy had not shaved his pubic hair. Jones’ smile widened. He wasn’t opposed to shaving – far from it, but hair was a great way to estimate how mature a young man was. As he guessed, Phil had not reached sexual maturity yet, but he was well on the way judging by his dark pubes. No treasure trail yet.  Good.

There was something about seeing a boy’s soft genitals revealed beneath the bottom of a crisp white or blue school shirt that really appealed to the teacher. He and the coach had enjoyed many videos surreptitiously recorded in the school’s changing rooms and showers, and he already had a good idea about most of the boys at the school. But there was something different about seeing a boy naked in the flesh. It was the difference between watching porn and getting laid.

“Off you go then.”

Phil looked sick. He turned 90 degrees so that his genitals were visible to his teacher in profile. He looked down at Michael, the other boy caught in the man’s snare. Michael was two years younger, and on his knees. He gripped Phil’s penis then opened his mouth and leaned forwards…

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