Chapter 4

The winter break was over, it was a New Year, Felicity, thirteen, a swarthy girl, possibly Mediterranean in origin, with in all likelihood a little bit of African thrown into the mix, a favourite granddaughter of a corporate CEO (contributor to campaign funds, shares in several banks – he had all the prerequisites of an elite), came to my office, and requested some quality time with me. I was still unsure of doing my duty by younger and unless the law has changed, as far as I am aware, still legally under-age girls.

She tried to convince me that her cousin, an eighteen year old high school quarterback couldn't be beaten. He had popped her cherry at eleven fifty-seven PM on New Year's Eve, and he was the best thing since sliced bread in her meagre experience. I had absolutely no intention of trying to meet, let alone beat anyone else's ideas regarding the good, the bad and the downright ugly. Of course she used Gloria as her stick, and I knew that Gloria would take my under-age argument as a cop-out, so I did what I had been hired to do!

Felicity was an eye-opener for me, I mean I had in the past, experienced some of the sometimes almost mythical unique aspects of the female gender, but seldom all in one woman; for one so young, she was very vocal, Miriam told me how proud she was of me, I blushed, yes I actually do still blush sometimes – in fact I wondered about her dormitory, and how her roommates dealt with such a noisemaker, but she told me that when she masturbated, she could stay silent; she was also a squirter, something that I had never yet come across before. Felicity claimed that her cousin was but a shadow to me, he was perhaps certainly slightly bigger, but most of his technique was high school football braggartry, whereas I knew how to make a woman feel like a woman.

Of course, like all men, I fell for such flattery, and she quickly became one of my favourites. Some girls came, they saw, they conquered, hymen gone, woman made, get on with life; other girls were repeat visitors or is that repeat offenders, they came back again and again to prove to me, to themselves, to their parents, to their girlfriends (both the BFF-type, and yes, they all 'did a little experimenting!'); some of them were in love with me, but they couldn't be jealous, because I had a job to do, I was fulfilling my duty.

The scariest thing about Felicity was the fact that after the summer vacations, by the time that she returned to school, my bank (her grandfather had turned out to be one of the major shareholders) balance showed his appreciation for my efforts, it was totally uncalled for, and I kept thinking that here I am at thirty, and she is only thirteen, a newly minted teenager; that there is something not quite right here, my swiftly crumbling morals (I know: if she is old enough to bleed... ) But he actually phoned me, thanked me and told me to look out for his token of appreciation, and also to look out for his granddaughter, and treat her like the princess she is!

Felicity had of course spent her summer vacation re-educating her cousin (the quarterback), and educating two other male cousins, one of whom falls on the distaff side (i.e. his is the other grandfather), an uncle, her big brother, and two of his friends in how to treat a woman. In one of my more melancholy moods, I wondered if her grandfather had also been a recipient of her screaming squirts, or is that squirting screams. But I have enough manners; lies, all lies, I am just not brave enough to ever ask. Discretion being the better part of valour, and all that.

Tonight is the first anniversary of my coming to St. Tamara's Institute for Young Ladies, and they are throwing a party. No other males would be in attendance, all of my 'victims / conquests' were to be nude (not my rules, Gloria and Miriam came up with the idea), while everyone else would quickly realise that they have been left out.