Chapter 1: Introductions

Matt Barker watched as Miss Beverley greeted the freshmen girls with locker assignments and other paperwork outside the girls' locker room. He was doing the same outside the boys' locker room. He was only mildly distracted by some of the more nubile students in her class. There were a few, however, that he could not avoid watching as they walked by, like the nicely proportioned blonde with a long ponytail and swivel hips whom he was sure he had seen somewhere wearing a lot less. He was almost certain that she brushed his arm on purpose as she hurried past.

Some of the freshman boys were eager as they entered the locker room, thinking that physical education was an easy 'A'. Others dreaded the class for reasons varying from body shyness in the locker room to physical ineptitude, making any kind of sport or physical exertion a living hell. The part of his job that Matt really hated was making sure the boys dressed out properly. That included jock strap checks, which were never fun for anyone.

Among the stragglers there was always a myopic, underdeveloped boy like the one he saw trudging slowly in without a gym bag. The approaching figure faltered when he realized that everyone else was carrying a gym bag. "I left my gym bag in my locker. I didn't think we would be dressing out on the first day."

The boy shyly took the locker assignment from the outstretched hand and looked at Matt funny when he told him, "We always dress out. I guess you'll just have to do it twice tomorrow unless you double-time across campus and get back here in three minutes. What's your name in case we need to send out as search party?"

"Malcolm Whitehead, sir," the young freshman yelled over his shoulder as he ran down the hall.

"No running in the hall, Mr. Whitehead," Matt shouted at the retreating boy, who quickly slowed to a brisk walk. Matt shook his head as he wrote the locker assignment next to the name on his roster, "Nerds," he mumbled, "why do I get all of the clumsy nerds?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Beverley Addams responded to the rhetorical question. "I not only get my share of nerds, but also a plate-full of princesses who live in terror of chipping a nail."

The bell rang and the two coaches entered their respective locker rooms to break up the inevitable horseplay that always accompanied adolescents changing clothes. "Settle down!" Matt's shout was not loud enough to overcome the background roar until he blew his whistle and again shouted, "I said, settle down! Play grab-ass with your friends on your own time. You have two minutes to change and gather mid-court in the gym. Now, move!"

It was only a couple of decibels from the pain threshold in the girls' locker room as well, requiring a whistle blast to lower the background noise enough for Beverley to be heard. "I know many of you want to strut your new toys, but save the exploration of each other's tits and fuzzy lips for a pajama party. You must wear sports bras and cotton panties under your gym clothes, ladies. Even those of you with no tits are to wear one to keep your nipples under control."

"I have firm tits and big, tough nipples. No amount of Spandex will keep them down if I get excited. Do I really have to wear this tight bra? It makes it hard to breathe." The young blonde jumped up and down to demonstrate the firmness of her tight body. There was very little bounce in her firm B-cup breasts or muscular butt.

"These cotton tops will irritate the toughest of nipples by the first kilometer around the track," Beverley advised. "Who in here has you so turned on?"

"Why, you do, of course," the blonde responded playfully. "You and I are the only real women in the room."

The blonde was pelted by a collection of padded bras and satin panties thrown at her by her friends. It would have degraded into a tickle fight had Beverley not again resorted to her handy whistle. "Save it for your boyfriends, ladies. Or girlfriends if you're so inclined," she added as she locked eyes with the slender blonde who was still naked.

She glanced at her clipboard to refresh her memory. "Miss Ellsworth, we are not here to admire your skimpy bush. Now, move your tight ass!"

Madison smiled sweetly as she slowly turned, picked up a pair of French cut white panties and leaned far enough that she barely flexed her knees as she stepped into the leg openings. She took her time pulling them up, giving Beverley a clear and lingering view of her shapely ass, puckered brown rose, and puffy labia trimmed with golden down.

One of the other girls smacked Madison's upturned butt saving Beverley from walking over and doing the same. "No horseplay in the locker room!" she smiled as she chastised the busty brunette.

"Be sure you're tucked in, ladies," Beverley advised. "We'll be joining the boys' class mid-court this morning and there will be no talking or flirting when we get there."

Predictably, the instructions had fallen on deaf ears. It took both whistles and the coaches standing back to back mid-court to separate the two groups.

"Will we be working out with the boys all year?" Madison asked as she smiled and pictured everyone naked. She found it especially easy to image the trim butt of the boys' coach without any clothing.

The only acknowledgement Beverley gave the question was to roll her eyes before getting in Madison's face. The girl reluctantly backed down under Beverley's threatening glare. "What we are about to tell you is very important, so pay attention!" Beverley's voice carried above the echo of squeaking gym shoes. She continued to stare at Madison, but was clearly addressing everyone in the gym.

"Is there anyone here who is not yet fourteen?" Matt asked.

The tall boy who was returning Madison's smile clearly had his mind elsewhere when he raised his hand. Matt walked over and blocked his view of the swishing ponytail as Madison turned to giggle with her friends.

"You are not fourteen?" Matt asked.

"No, sir. Today is my birthday. I just missed the cutoff for first grade. I'm fifteen."

"Were you in first grade yesterday, mister... ?" Matt asked.

"Huh? No, sir. It was..." the head set close to the broad shoulders was clearly puzzling out how long it had been since he had been in first grade. Madison had turned her back to him to chat with her friends and had chosen that moment to bend forward as she laughed, thrusting her tight ass against the thin material of her shorts.

It took an effort for Matt to maintain his scowl as the slack-jawed giant of a freshman leaned to get a clearer view of Madison's ass. Matt glanced around to see what had the boy's attention and really, really wanted to laugh. "We'll save the hard answers for later. Why don't you just tell me your name? Can you do that without checking the label on your shorts?"

"Is my name supposed to be on my shorts? I didn't ... oh. Robert, Robert Granger, sir. Sorry, I thought..." the red-faced boy clearly wanted to see if Madison was watching his clumsiness, but his eyes dropped to his toes under Matt's stern stare.

"Well, Mr. Granger, now that we have established that you have been fourteen, perhaps I can continue?

"By the way, not yet fourteen means thirteen and under for those of you who have not been paying attention. The next question may be even harder. Who does not have an official Capacity, Aptitude and Potential identification card? And yes, it counts if you left it in your locker." Matt was shaking his head as he read the confused faces on both sides of the centerline.

He was pleased when Beverley took over. "I want those of you who have never been tested to determine your CAP score to gather under the visitor's goal. That's the one opposite the scoreboard." She pointed to give the bewildered faces a better reference. "Quickly! We don't have all day!

"Those with a CAP card on your person. This means that you have it around your neck or tucked into your clothes, please stand quietly under the home team's goal. It's the one down that way." She could not contain her smile as she again pointed out the obvious.