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Day One: Classical Physics
1. Arrival
It was brutal but worth it. 4 years of hard slogging give me the qualifications I need to teach smart boys advanced physics at the school of my choice. The only catch was that I have to spend one year teaching at some dumb girl's school, selected by my Mother, in return for the financial support she provided while I was studying in University.
I argue that this is a waste of my talents but she insists that I need to understand the world through female eyes as well as Einstein's if I ever expect to develop something novel in my chosen field. Knowing that there is no point being logical when my Mother is being illogical, I acquiesce and email a teacher application form to the "Toronto Advanced Education Academy for Females".
The reply reads "Thank you for your interest in our academy. You appear somewhat overqualified for the position but we are willing to overlook this if you guarantee, by signing the attached, that you will stay within the education facility for the full year and not attempt to communicate, with any individuals outside of the school. Failure to abide by this rule entitles us to invoke disciplinary actions in a manner of our own choosing."
My Mother points out that this will allow me to focus on physics and after some heated argument; I sign and fax the attachment. The next day I pack as many theoretical books on quantum and relativity as I can carry, along with my few possessions and journey to the Academy four blocks from where I live in the Annex.
The red brick building was huge with a playground surrounded by a ten-foot fence. Bemused that a fence needed to be more than three feet high, I confidently march up the granite steps, and wandering through the corridors, dodge strangely arrogant female children, and find the principle's office. A large woman glances up and beams, "You must be Mr. Jefferson, I'm Miss Pringle. The principle will be ready to see you in 20 minutes and has asked me to show you to your quarters in the interim."
I follow her waddling behind to the basement and enter what will be my new home for the next year. Not exactly extravagant, stonewalls, a sink and toilet out in the open, a mat, and a low table and chair. Even odder, hooks had been drilled into the walls creating a pattern that had no mathematical reasoning. Indicating that I think it is unsuitable, Miss Pringle crisply informs me that I will find it suitable soon enough. Mulling over that cryptic remark, I drop my bags and follow her back to the principle's office.
She is a stunning Irish woman, red hair, 6 feet tall, curves everywhere and clothed in a simple white blouse and skirt. Embarrassingly, I can't prevent myself from going hard. "Mr. Jefferson, so nice to meet you, I'm Miss Kali", she says, and then looking down, her face morphs from friendly to angry. "How dare you get stiff in a children's school, please make it behave or I will make it behave for you". Mortified, I stammer out an apology that doesn't deflate the situation. Furiously rummaging through her desk Miss Kali pulls out an odd contraption composed of leather strings attached to a steel tube around 3 inches long.
"Put this on now before the whole school sees that" she fumigates. Confused, I just stare blankly at her until the nickel drops. "You want me to wear that here?" I say looking down at the offending assemble.
"Immediately, Miss Pringle hold his clothes".
Live to fight another day is my motto, and I turn to leave. I find my way blocked by the very fat Miss Pringle. "Mr. Jefferson did you agree to work here for a year?" Miss Kali demands.
"Yes, but…" I said trying to find a train of thought with traction.
"Do you think I can let you in front of our young girls like that?" she barks.
"No, but…" I squeak.
"Now" she says sternly.
Red-faced, I remove my socks and shoes, and when pleads fail to move her, unhitch my trousers and lower them to the ground. Seeing no way out, I pull down my underwear. To my shame, this set my penis bobbing up and down. With a grin, Miss Pringle takes my clothes and leaves the office. Miss Kali impatiently hands me the tube and watches me smugly. Struggling to insert the tube on my raging penis, I realize that the tube is simply too small. Miss Pringle returns with a bag of ice, and roughly grabbing my penis, rams it in. Whoosh, 6 inches becomes 2 inches and Miss Kali wryly tells me to try now. I start to put it in when I feel a prick on the side of the tube and quickly disengage. Looking inside, I can see 1/8th inch steel pins spaced one inch apart inside angled 30 degrees towards the base. Miss Kali grabs the tube and quickly shoves my penis inside causing me to screech with pain as the pins slide along my penis. She ties the leather strings tightly around my balls and threads them through an iron lock and click, there I was - penis crammed into a steel tube with sharp pins, heavy lock stretching my ball sack to twice its normal length.
"Now, with that little problem taken care of, let me show you your duties," she states in a business like manner. Grabbing the lock, she pulls me out into the corridor. My mind couldn't keep up with what was happening. When I find myself naked waist down, penis and balls compromised, in the corridor full of young females, I do the only logical thing, I faint.
Coming to, I can hear Miss Kali telling the girls not to worry. First day stress, excitement of a new school and so on. A massage is required to make me as good as new. Squeals of laughter meet this pronouncement and a giggle of 15-18 yr old girls surround me.
Fingers tickle my feet. Hands pull me hair. Claws pinch my nipples. Palms mold my bottom. Nails squeeze my balls. A fist enters my mouth. Thumbs pull on my lock. My penis starts to rise and meet the dastardly pins.
"Arrrrrrggggghhhhhh", I painfully moan.
All action blissfully terminates. "Thank you girls, Mr. Jefferson seem better now. Please go to your next class. Miss Pringle and I will take care of Mr. Jefferson". With curious looks, the mob of girls chatter excitedly as they reluctantly leave for their classrooMiss
Primly, Miss Kali remarks; "Now aren't you glad we had you covered Mr. Jefferson. Imagine our embarrassment if you weren't. Perhaps we should give you some time alone in your room to reflect on what almost happened before your duties are explained?"
Never have I felt so humiliated. Almost naked, no, worse than naked with this thing on me, I suffer being pawed by many young girls. Especially in front of the principle and the fat lady. I wanted to leave this place and go to a boy's school where these happenings don't occur.
Through the haze I hear Miss Kali say "Miss Pringle, could you help Mr. Jefferson up and take him to his room. He does look like he needs some special time ". Miss Pringle grabs the lock, and with a heave, encourages me to rise to my feet. She hauls me to my basement room, tittering on about suitability, men and other things I couldn't focus on at the moment. Entering stone, she deposits me on the mat with one clean downward stroke. I hear through her belly the words "let me know if I can help you with anything" and walruses out of the room.
Quiet, more quiet, and then my brain finally kicked in. First emotion – anger; second – disbelief, third – fear and finally my scientific training engages. What the hell just happened? I come to a school to teach some young kids and end up in a stone room almost naked – does getting a hard on really merit this type of treatment? I decide it doesn't, so I proceed to determine the key questions?
Why did my mother want me in this school in particular?
Why is Miss Kali so concerned that her pupils don't ever see a guy hard?
Why were the girls in the corridor cooperative instead of horrified?
Why was I given this job in the first place since I was clearly overqualified?
How can I be an effective teacher when all my pupils have seen me in the buff?
What the hell is my job?
I review this list and then decide that the only real question is "how do I get out of the mess I'm in". No, that's a strategic question – the tactical question is how can I get this thing off of me. I try pulling it off, but the pins drag intolerably and I give up. I realize I'm mentally rambling – focus I told myself – focus.
Seconds after hearing the clip clip of heels, Miss Kali enters. "Are you recovered enough now to have a chat regarding your duties and responsibilities?" she asks.
Gathering my wits, I angrily respond, "Yes, as long as we can also have a chat regarding what constitutes civilized behavior". With a frown, she sits on the chair by the table and politely asks if I think having a hard-on in a female school constitutes civilized behavior? I retort that two wrongs don't make a right and to humiliate a teacher in front of his pupils is neither civilized nor decent. Miss Kali, considering, agrees her response was perhaps over the top and says there was no need for me to wear the tube in the privacy of my own room. She will facilitate its removal if that will help us discuss my duties for the next year.
Mulling this over (sub seconds only, didn't want her to think I would take just any deal), I answer that this would be an acceptable first step, but I'm not very happy with how things are starting out in this job. She picks up her cell phone and asks Miss Pringle to bring the ice cube bag. Miss Pringle arrives, rips the bag in half, and asks me to lie back on the table. Apprehensively I do so. Miss Pringle takes my "penis in a tube" and roughly forces it into the middle of the ice bag with the lock just hanging over the edge. A total frostbite down there hits my brain and as I prepare to leverage her fat hands/arms away, she smoothly pulls the tube from my penis leaving it dangling below the lock on my balls.
"Thank Miss Pringle, Mr. Jefferson", Miss Kali whispers while looking directly in my eyes. Ah hell, it felt so great that it was off. "Thank you Miss Pringle" I ping.
"Now are we square?" she asks, "Can we get down to talking about your duties now? Or do we have to suffer even more nonsense?"
"Well, can you take the lock off my balls, they are used to being a bit freer than this", I point out with just a hint of "get on with it babes and make your apology complete".
"No, Mr. Jefferson, that tube must go on whenever you are outside of this room. You clearly can't control yourself in front of our young ladies and I do have some responsibility", she points out.
"This is ridiculous, I'm a scientist and have no difficulty in normal circumstances controlling myself. Release me right now if you don't want to hear from the authorities!"
Miss Kali stares at pokey. Betraying me, he hardens immediately. Miss Kali laughs and asks if I have passed any science course where the truth was an objective. Flushing I reply that she wasn't applying "normal circumstances". It's about special relativity she suggests, I am just reacting in the wrong frame of reference. Around all these girls, it is only prudent I wear the tube.
I huffily point out that special relativity, is about a constant velocity, where different observers conclude different results depending on their relative motion. Laughing she points at my pokey and says she has concludes a relative motion and politely requests what my frame of reference is telling me. "Grrrrrrrrrrrrr – ok your point is taken". "At least let me wear trousers?"
"Well, I don't have a problem with that. But you must promise to abide by all the rules this school. We need to make sure our young ladies contribute to the maximum of their potential for society" Miss Kali demurely comments. "Trousers you can have with the tube, happy now?"
"Ok, glad we got that straight. Now what are my teaching priorities?" feeling somewhat appeased. I figure that now, was not the time, to point out that all the main contributors to society were male.
Miss Kali proceeds to describe a breathtaking vision of advanced teaching. She outlines a curriculum stressing teaching pupils about fundamental realities. She wants her charges grounded in a unified theory encompassing all physical and emotional postulates. My particular challenge is to enlighten them in Classical Physics followed by relativity, quantum mechanics and string theory. Emotional postulates are taken care of by other teachers but I will be expected to conduct some "unified theories" in conjunction with them. In particular, it is important that I relate these theories to something experimental verifiable, so it will, in her words, "run in their blood".
All my instincts awaken to this vision. The challenge of explaining the universe to formative minds, in a way that would profoundly affect their life view, and their children's life view is irresistible. It is a shame that she wastes such a vision on mere girls. Suddenly self-conscious, I remember I am naked. "Trousers please" I puff. She passes me my trousers and soon I am closeted in respectability.
"Ok, Mr. Science – your first class is at 8 tomorrow in room 3C teaching the essence of time mechanics to our grade 9 class. I expect a good report, sleep tight." With that, Miss Kali removes my entire clothes luggage, and leaves along with Miss Pringle.
I puzzle the lock around my balls for a while before falling into a fitful sleep. I wake with one hand on a raging pokey and the other, strangely enough, on the tube. "Odd", I think, "Why did I do that?" Shrugging it off, I perform my morning ablutions. I hunt for my shirt, socks and shoes until I remember that Miss Kali had taken all my clothes the evening before. "Now how am I going to be able to teach with only trousers on", I think crossly.
"Good Morning Mr. Jefferson" a voice entering the room bellows. Turning, I see Miss Pringle with a big smile holding the requisite bag of ice. "Are we all ready for our first day of teaching? The girls are very excited about having their first male teacher."
"I'm looking forward to teaching them Miss Pringle. Here let me take that bag of ice. I'm sure I can manage putting the tube on myself" I say reaching out my hand.
"I'm sorry Mr. Jefferson, but Miss Kali gave me strict instructions that I was to perform this chore. Can't take a chance on any cock-ups. Don't worry you wouldn't feel a thing. Let's get the show on the road. Drop your pants please and lie on the table", she menaces me with no hint of appeasement.
Frustrated, I expose a very flaccid penis (fat women do not turn me on at all). Remarking that the cold would be too much of a shock unless it is warmed up a bit, she grabs my pokey root with her left hand and proceeds to flick its head with the middle finger of her right hand.
"Ouch, stop that" I whine, as my affronted pokey stares her down with his one eye. She immediately rams him into the bag of ice. Pokey retreats. The tube registers occupied. Glad this part of my morning routine is over; I put on my pants and ask for the rest of my clothes.
"Don't know anything about that. Miss Kali gave me no instructions. You look fine, let's go", she says flouncing out of the room.
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