Chapter 1

Joan Frazer hurried down the worn linoleum hallway of old Montock High School, books and her class record under one arm, a small can of film gripped tightly in her other hand. Her long, satiny brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders as she walked quickly, her form-hugging dress stretching tautly over her body and accentuating the fluid lines of her movements.

She had the body of a lush young Venus, even though she had recently celebrated her thirty-first birthday over the Christmas holidays. If the young boys and girls of Montock High had cared to take full notice of her charms--and some of them had sneaked long and admiring glances at her--they could have traced in detail her sensual curves and hollows through the pink velveteen dress she wore this day. Through its sheer, stretched thinness could be seen the outline of her white nylon brassiere, which barely hid the high-set roundness of her firm, full breasts whose rose-tipped nipples clearly punched against the covering fabric. The short- hemmed dress molded down over a slender, girlish waist and a flat, smooth stomach to a long, full-swelling thighs; and where the dress ended, slim curved legs tapered down to slender well-formed calves and ankles.

Miss Frazer's rich dark hair framed an oval-shaped face that was almost classic in its cameo proportions. Her hazel eyes were deep-set and large, giving her an innocent appearance which belied her age. She had a dainty, slightly curved nose with a few small freckles dotted puckishly across its bridge, and her full ripe mouth had a lower lip which was almost perpetually set in a little-girl pout. The unmarried teacher was beautiful in a youthful manner that guaranteed to attract admiring attention from the most discriminating of men, and the dart-eyed envy of jealous, less well endowed women.

She was walking rapidly to Room 12, and the last class of the day; normally this would have produced happiness within her. In one hour she could say goodbye to her young pupils and head toward home, but the coming hour today was one she dreaded with all of her might, just as she had hated this class every week since the beginning of the school year last September. Once a week she had been experiencing the nightmarish horror of having to stand in front of the small group of youthful students and keeping a tight check on her quaking inner emotions, so that they would not be able to guess the torment which surged through her increasingly as the minutes ticked by. Her agony was of her own doing, she fully knew; a product of her past catching up with her, and of her present throwing temptation continually up into her face. Miss Joan Frazer was the teacher of Montock High's experimental sex education course. The once-a-week class on Wednesdays had probably been the hottest controversy to strike the farming community of Montock since the mayor had been in session since September, seven months ago, still the small town was split with the emotional fury of whether sex and procreation should be taught in the schools. For some years now, educators had been pressing for sex education in one form or another, ranging from a simple birds-and-bees outline to a comprehensive, multi-grade study of sexual techniques that included lessons in premarital intercourse, venereal diseases, masturbation, sodomy, and other forms of "unnatural," if commonly practiced acts.

The "Progressives," mostly in the state's few large cities, had argued that the family and church had failed in supplying a healthy, knowledgeable program to adolescents, and were cloaking their own fears and dogmas in embarrassed and harmful silence. The modern generation, these educators maintained, was smarter, sharper, and more solid than any other in the history of the world. The boys and girls growing up today wanted facts, not superstition, and as they matured into young men and woman, they had a right to know the truth about their budding sexuality. The most basic condition of the human animal could no longer hide behind the prudish skirts of their parents, and should be presented logically and matter-of-factly so that they could gain an adult outlook instead of the immature back-room gutter attitudes that had traditionally been formed through ignorance.

The "fundamentalists" fought back just as hard. Their arguments ranged from scriptural quotations and the Saint Augustine concept of "Original Sin," to sex education being a Communist plot for the subverting of American youth into degeneracy, to the concept that classroom teaching would sterilize the romance and love out of sex. Sex had to be taught with a foundation of decency, they said; a child who learned sex as he would tennis would never have the respect, awe, or control of his growing desires, and would soon become cynical and immoral. And like religion, they argued, the ethics and decencies which made sex more than just copulation between man and woman were too varied from family to family for a mere teacher to present effectively.

Montock was rural, away from the centers of the state, and its outlook was narrow and firmly planted in tradition. Not unexpectedly, the small town was almost entirely on the side of the "fundamentalists," and so convinced were its citizens in the inherent evil of sex education, that they were caught off-guard by the passing of a sex education law in the state congress. Sex courses were made mandatory in all school districts as of the current school year, and as a result, the Freshmen class of Montock High was given a chance to learn about sex every Wednesday afternoon whether their parents liked it or not.

The State Board of Education had passed down a series of guidelines, starting with the rule that the class was voluntary-- up to a point. There had to be at least five students mixed between the sexes, and in Montock, there were only five students who were in Joan Frazer's class. Because the concept of sex education was so new, and opinion as to methods and subject matter were so varied, the Board had decided to allow each district a wide margin in choice of what to present. Later, after a few years of experiment, a more standardized format would be decided upon, they said, based on what would be learned now.

It so happened that Montock's principal, Ozgood Blatherton, was a pompous little man who had dreams of becoming principal of larger and better schools in one of the big cities, and he had latched on to the sex education issue as a spring-board to make a name for himself. Consequently, he had set up one of the most frank and explicit courses in the state, pulling no punches in his effort to prove to Montock and his superiors that sex education was an effective and desirable program. The film Joan carried in her hand, for example, was one which would have been banned as obscene if it had been screened in a regular theater, and some of her previous teaching material would have been termed pornographic if the public at large had been aware of their content. Mr. Blatherton had also been the one who had selected the five "volunteers" for her class, and with an unerring eye for further trouble, he had chosen three of the crudest ruffians in the Freshman class, including the son of Montock's most prominent citizen, and two young girls who had a reputation for wild, loose behavior. And then he had handed the powder-keg package over to Joan Frazer last September and washed his hands of the affair...

A bell rang in the distance, reverberating down the hall in warning that the seventh and final period was about to begin. Why me? Joan asked herself painfully as she reached the door to room 12... Oh God, why had Ozgood Blatherton picked me for this class?

It was a mental question which she had asked herself ever since last September when she'd been given the assignment, but deep inside her, Joan knew the awful answer. Ozgood Blatherton may have been pompous and career-hungry, but he was also devilishly shrewd, and he saw that while he could take all the credit if the sex education course went well, he had to be careful or he would be ruined if something went wrong. None of the other teachers at Montock High could be used, as they all had been at the school for years and years, but Joan Frazer was a new arrival, only having taught at Montock for one year previous to this. She was unmarried and young, and therefore automatically suspect in the eyes of the community, and worse, she had come from "Back East" somewhere, from one of the big cities. In time she might prove her worth to the town, but right now she would serve as a perfect scapegoat if Ozgood Blatherton's plan back-fired on him.

Joan's credentials had been perfect when she first came to Montock seeking work, and even though some people had thought it strange that she would chose such an out-of-the-way place, the local school board had hired her immediately. What the town didn't know, and what would have turned Blatherton to an ashen grey if he had learned, was that in her heart, Joan was carrying a guilty and soul-sickening secret. In reality, the principal couldn't have picked a worse person to teach the young boys and girls about sex, for it was the same as sending a fox into a chicken-coop to teach hens how to lay eggs. The outwardly prim school-marm had been running from arrest and censure when she'd arrived in Montock, just as she'd been fleeing from one terrible incident after another since she had grown to adulthood. It was the damning secret which had prevented her from marrying, and kept her crying herself to sleep on cold, lonely nights...

Joan Frazer was a pedophile!

The inwardly depraved older woman had been cursed with a maddening desire for young boys, adolescents 14 and 15 who were less than half her age! It had all started when she was twelve; a boy cousin two years older introduced her to the pleasant wonders of sex while her parents were out. There had followed the sweet delights of countless boys as she'd grown up and dated, but then had come the miserable realization when she'd been in teacher's college that men her own age simply didn't interest her. Her sexual urges were greater than ever, but the husky, meaty, overpoweringly strong attentions of adult males, with their big hairy bodies and gigantic-sized penises made her cringe with revulsion. She still yearned for the tender, innocent shyness of young boys who were first experimenting with the mysteries of their budding genitals. They were all so responsive and eager to learn... and she was the perfect teacher!

Lecherously, she had begun to seduce some of her students after she'd become a graduate teacher, craving their slim, boyish hardness deep up inside her warm, demanding vagina with a passion she'd never, never been able to generate for men their father's age. Her all-consuming perversion had begun to dominate her life, her time spent mostly with plotting whom to seduce next and how best to succeed, or fearing the slip of an inexperienced tongue or sudden discovery. Driven as she was, Joan had taken chances no normal person would have dared to, abandonedly stripping naked in the backs of cars for some young boy of her choice, or hungrily removing the pants of still another eagerly trembling male-child in her own bedroom, disregarding the threat of public exposure and even prison. And eventually, her frenzied ways had always ended in downfall and a panicked running...

Montock was the absolute end of the line for her. She had known it when she'd arrived in the dusty village, breathless and broke from her most recent escape from Dayton, Ohio.

Now, simply walking into Room 12 of Montock High and looking at the fresh-faced boys and girls smiling expectantly back at her, she was reminded of just such a similar classroom in Dayton. She groaned inwardly as she made her way to her desk at the front, sinking down gratefully in her chair before her slim legs buckled beneath her. God... Dayton, Ohio...

The incident which had happened there to her was still a red, painfully open wound in her memory, even after two years...

In Dayton, she had managed to get a job teaching remedial reading to junior high students, and one boy in her class had tragically formed a crush on her. Tommy Hotchkiss had been his name, a handsome boy not yet fourteen, whose puppy love for her had reached the innermost depths of Joan's heart. She had fought her unquenchable desire for the youth, just as she was fighting her wild, unpredictable urges now in Montock, but then had come one of those occasions when the ravenous need had been too overpowering for her to control. She and young Tommy had been alone in the classroom, and while leaning over his temptingly virile form to help him with a difficult sentence, the boy had suddenly reached up and kissed her full on her soft, warm lips. The dam of her pent-up emotions had burst, and before she had realized what they were doing, she had found herself on the floor with him, exploring his genitals while he'd sucked hungrily at one of her firm, nakedly exposed breasts.

Eventually she had taken all of his clothes off, and then delightedly she had stripped naked before his quivering flesh, enjoying the hot desire in his eyes dancing across her white, pulsing loins. She had lain and splayed her legs wide for him, and the boy had eagerly crawled over her nakedly abandoned body, inserting his slender, lust-stiffened young penis up inside her tight, moistly throbbing pussy to tickle and prod her there. It had been Tommy's first orgasm; and the hot sweet semen emitting in jet-like spurts from his rigid young penis had almost frightened him with its ferocity, but he had soon wanted more. And Joan had lewdly been willing to supply all he'd wanted!

But their carnal affair had ended and, as always for the wickedly seductive teacher, it had ended disastrously for her. They had been caught half naked behind the school furnace by the janitor, old Johannsen, and the bewhiskered man had forced her to suck his leathery cock until he'd cum in her mouth, while Tommy had watched in absolute horror. Joan had known that even if Tommy or Johannsen never told about her uncontainable perversion, it was the end of her in Dayton...

And this sex education class, she thought miserably, might very well be the end of her for all time. She had been barely able to control her ever-mounting desires for her boy students since Dayton, masturbating with the dreams of virile young penises and eager, innocent caresses whenever the lascivious demands inside her grew to the danger point. She'd realized from the start that if she failed to keep her corrupting degeneracies in rein this time, there could be no other place to which she could escape, and with that fear pressing on her every action, the emotional frustration of being surrounded by the handsome young bodies every day had been repressed. But now... now she not only had to face the youthful objects of her most fevered desires, she had to teach them the very subject she had sworn to stay away from!

God... she had to keep hold of herself! She just had to!

Joan once again set her mind to gain control of the ragged emotions this class always caused her to suffer, sucking in a deep, heated breath and gripping her desk with quivering hands. It was not a simple matter for her to do, but she managed, mainly by blotting out the remembrance of Tommy Hotchkiss and concentrating on the students before her.

"Class," she said, smiling at them, "I've a new film to show today. This is the most... the most explicit showing of boys and girls together."

She happened to look at Wayne Conroy, who was leaning on his elbows at his first-row desk, his chin resting in his cupped hands. God, he was a handsome boy, she thought, in a split-second flash of desire. Her eyes traveled brazenly for a moment on the width of his young shoulders, the ripple of his developing muscles, and the taper of his boyish waist as he sat in his seat. Wayne was the son of Montock's richest and biggest farmer, Agnew Harrison Conroy, and had a bad reputation as trouble-maker and bully. His swaggering manner could be traced to his father's position, which allowed him to get away with things other boys couldn't afford to do, and to the maturity for his fifteen years, which made him larger and stronger than the rest of his classmates. Joan Frazer knew this, but it wasn't enough to stop her from one fleeting thought: God... I wonder what the rest of him is like, the part I can't see...

Wayne's eyes met hers and then skipped away to blatantly trace the contours of her throat down to the cleavage between her ripely mature breasts under the thin spring dress. Joan's throat turned instantly dry, and she felt her face warm with a sudden rush of blood which crimsoned her cheeks and temples. Damn! It was as if he could read her mind!

"We... We are up to the point of actual sexual intercourse now," she stammered to the students, hurriedly attempting to cover her fluster. "We've studied the sex organs individually, and... and last week, if you remember, we saw slides, on how each sex matures physically."

One of the girls, petite Sharla Gronsworth, giggled appreciatively from where she sat. Joan looked at her sharply, frowning with disapproval. "Sharla," she scolded the little blonde girl, "by this time I would think you would have been able to get over your childishness. This is a serious subject, and you must be a young adult about it."

"That's just it, teacher," Micky Hagen said, "Sharla's very adult about sex."

"Most mature," another boy, Nick "Knuckles" Gerber, hooted derisively. "Amazing how grown-up she is when it comes to sex!"

"Sure! Just look at her," Wayne added gleefully. "You can see just how mature she is!"

"Stop it!" Joan Frazer snapped in an effort to restore order to the now loudly laughing class. "Nick, would you take the movie and thread it in the projector, please?" "Knuckles" came forward with a knowing smirk and took the can of film back to the large 16 mm projector which was on a stand at the back of the room. In a moment he'd wound the celluloid through the lens and sprockets, called to the other girl, Lucy Hamilton, to switch off the lights and switched on the machine.

Joan moved from her chair just as light flickered on the silver screen behind her, the screen having been set up by the audio-visual department during the class break. She went to one of the student desks and sat down so she could watch the motion picture as well, nervously crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs together. She dug the nails of her left hand into the palm of her right, and pressed the full, moist lips of her mouth tightly together, and she could feel her heart palpitating like a trip-hammer beneath the thin cloth of her dress and brassiere. God... don't make this film too sexy, she prayed. I don't think I could take it if it were...