I was afraid of this teacher. I felt that he meant me harm. As he would walk up and down the aisle, talking to the class, he always stopped at my seat, patting my hair and rubbing his hand on my back. I was choked and shocked every time that he did this, but I felt quite flattered at these friendly overtures and smiled at him when he walked away. At times he would ask me questions and I had to write them on the blackboard, which was in back. of his desk. Then he would turn around and, as I wrote, he would have me stand between his knees. Since his desk was between us and the other children, they could not see what was going on behind it. He now would take my hand, and, quite accidentally so I thought-place it at the opening of his pants saying: “I am sure that you have studied your lessons well.” At the same time, looking at me, he pressed my hand against him so hard that I could feel the stiff shaft standing erect in his pants. One day, he released my hand, as usual; but, when I did not withdraw it, he again looked at me. I now was getting excited and felt quite proud that he had chosen me. As my passions arose, I courageously closed my hand, firmly clasping his appendage. He began a long speech to the class, to keep their attention from us. Then he unbuttoned the flap of his pants and his naked device popped out. It was bent and very thick and burning hot. As we looked at each other, I slowly began to rub him up and down. My movements were slow and gentle, so as not to draw the attention of the other children. He became pale, and with one quick move, which nobody noticed, he put his hand under my dress. I now spread my feet apart and stepped nearer to him, pushing out my hips so as to give him better access. He easily found my twig, which he began to tickle, making chills and fever run up and down my spine. Gazing into each other's eyes, we stood as he continued his dictation to the class; at last he stopped and sent me to my seat. Then he called Miss Ferndinger. She stepped on the platform. I watched from my seat as she stood between his knees. I saw that she immediately began to play with him, as I had done; I also saw him slip his hand under her dress.
She got very red in the face as he fingered her slit. But, evidently, she failed to satisfy him. Soon after he again called me, saying; “Bring your writing material with you. You can write up here.”
Standing at his desk, I leaned forward, and, as I began to write, I knew that something else was going to happen, so I stood quiet. As I expected, he slowly raised my dress, and carefully tried to sheathe his sword. I turned as much as I could in trying to help him.
When he got the head in, he gently pulled me back and gave me to understand that he wanted me to sit down on it. He could do no pushing without being detected, so I slowly worked up and down the best I could, in this way doing the work for him. He now leaned over, as though looking at my writing closer. He placed his open hand upon the surface of the desk. I realized what he meant, and, bending closer, I placed my tittie in his hand. He began to press and fondle it and play with the nipple, which now stood out quite hard. I could barely believe the situation-being poked in the presence of all the children by the teacher whom I had always greatly feared, hardly daring to move for fear of being detected. This all added greatly to my excitement. So, I slowly kept on until I was ready to “go off.” It hurt because his shaft was so thick. He had forced more than half of it inside me.
I finally “went off,” which must have caused him to “come” too. I felt him squirting the hot juice into me. All this time, he quietly kept on with his slow dictation, which I neither heard nor wrote on my paper. When he had finished, his engine slipped out of its own accord. The little lesson was over. As we left the school, Miss Ferndinger and Miss Melani ran up to me. The latter said; “Today the teacher poked you, didn't he?” I said: “No.” “That means that he did,” Miss Ferndinger laughed. Melani said: “We know all about it.” “He never pokes me,” Miss Ferndinger said: “And he only jerks me off.” She was a skinny, homely girl with two small breasts which stood out straight and a broad bottom. “He had been poking me since last year,” Melani went on. “Undoubtedly now it is my turn.” One time later, he kept me after school. As soon as the girls had left the room he called me to the platform and, without any remarks, put his tool into my hand. I immediately proceeded to satisfy him. Being alone, we had nothing to fear. After I had played with him for awhile and after he had put his fingers into my opening several times, he sat me on his lap, astride him as though I were riding a horse. He then hugged me close to him, playing with my titties while tenderly kissing me on the mouth. I was quite touched with this show of tenderness, and since we were quite alone, I worked so hard that I nearly broke my back. But, in five minutes it was all over and I went home. I remember with regret what happened to this charming teacher. (I felt very sorry for him, as I was quite fond of him.) In one of the lower grades was a beautiful girl, the daughter of a carpenter. She was about eight years old, small for her age, but thick-set and broad, with an angel face, rosy cheeks and log, blonde curls. She was unusually stout and her little titties were quite noticeable. This teacher taught her how to jerk him off, and even went so far as to squirt into her bare little grotto. The child undoubtedly told her mother of the fiendish acts. The mother was naturally terribly enraged and immediately told her husband, who, having no use for teachers in general, reported the matter to the police. After an investigation the teacher was arrested. The police investigation led to the discovery of other victims of his nefarious deeds and the children began telling on each other. Finally my father received a summons to appear in court with me. When we arrived we found a large gathering of children with their mother and fathers. We were not blamed as they discussed their troubles. My father was ignorant of the whole affair until now. He just asked me if it all were true. I did not answer for I was ashamed. A great many of our teacher's “goings-on” were now discovered. A number of small children, some from the first grade and hardly able to talk plain, told how the teacher had put his “peter” into their little mouths and then Tee-Peed!” The astonishment and rage was enormous. Melani was there with her father. Every time she started to talk he shouted: “shut up!” People looking at her remarked: “It is no wonder that he 'used' her. She is no longer a girl; she is a grown woman.” Finally we were called before the judge. There was one other man present, whom we later learned was a doctor. The judge was a nice looking man and young too, and he could hardly keep from laughing. He asked me: “Did the teacher do anything to you?” “No,” I said. “I mean, did he touch you-you know what I mean?” “Yes.” “Where did he touch you?”
“There!” I bashfully answered, pointing to my grotto. “And what else did he do?” “Nothing.” “Didn't he put something in your hand?” “Yes.” “Well, then, what was it?” I was silent. “Well-I know,” said the judge. “And then did he put that 'thing' in 'there'?” He pointed to the 'spot.' “No, not all in.”
“Oh, just a little ways?” “Yes, about half.” The judge and the doctor both laughed outright. My father looked at me in silence. “Where else did he touch you?” “Here,” pointing to my breasts. “Well,” remarked the judge to the doctor chuckling. “I doubt if there was any temptation for him there.” The doctor came over to me and in a businesslike way felt and examined my titties, saying: “Oh, plenty-plenty of temptation.” “Well, now, tell me,” the judge went on, “didn't you try to resist him?”
“What was that, please?” “I mean, didn't you push his hand away?” “No.” “And why did you touch his 'thing'?”
“Because the teacher wanted me to.” “So, so; but he did not force you to?” Hesitating, I ventured a “no,” but I noticed that this was a dangerous and important question. “And why did you allow him to do all this?” “Because the teacher wanted it.”
“Yes; but why didn't you say: 'Teacher, please, I don't like that'?” “Because I did not dare.” “So it was respect and fear of the teacher?” “Yes,” I sighed, relieved, “it was fear.”
But the judge continued: “Didn't you tempt him? Didn't you say: yes, I want to do it, or look at him like this?” The judge smiled at me with loving eyes. With all my trembling and fright, I had to smile, but answered: “No!” “And now,” the judge continued: “tell me one thing more. But I want the truth. Do you understand? The absolute truth. Did you like what the teacher did to you?” I did not answer; I was afraid. “I mean,” he repeated, “were you willing and did you like to play with his 'thing'?” “Oh, no,” I eagerly replied. “Or-but I want to know the truth”-he went on -“when he put that 'thing' into you, did it give you any pleasure or did it hurt?” “Sometimes it hurt, but not always,” I replied.
“So sometimes it felt good?” he asked in sharp tones. “Yes,” I blurted out, “sometimes. But only on rare occasions.” The judge smiled; my father looked at me astonished and angry. “Well, go on, little one,” the judge continued. “Sometimes it felt good.”
“And you did it willingly, isn't that so?” “No!” I remonstrated, fearing my father. “I did not like it and I never did it willingly.” “Yes, but you just said that it felt good.”
“Well, I couldn't help it, when it went in and out-” He interrupted: “All right, all right. You did not like to do it, but you unwillingly got some pleasure from it. Is that it?” “Yes,” I nodded. “Doctor, please,” the judge turned to the doctor. “Will you kindly affirm this matter?” I did not know what was about to happen. The doctor ordered me to sit on a high stool. He raised my skirt and, spreading my thighs, opened my lips with his fingers. I felt him insert something hard. Withdrawing it, he said: “The proof is absolute. She has had intercourse with him.” Bewildered, I got down from the chair. “Now tell me,” the judge went on, “do you know whether the teacher has done this thing to other girls?”
“Why, there are a number of them in the anteroom,” I said.
He laughed again. “I know that, but I want you to tell me whether you personally heard or saw anything?” “Yes,” I answered. “Melani and the Ferndinger girl told me so themselves.” “And did he do the same to them as he did to you?” “No,” I said in haste. “He never poked Ferndinger.” “Did you hear that word from the teacher?” the judge asked. I was perplexed. “No, not from him.”
“From whom, then?” he wanted to know. “Oh, just in school-from the other girls.” “From the Hoffer girl or Ferndinger girl?” “I don't remember.” “Now you said he did not poke Ferndinger?” “No, he just had her play with him.” “But Miss Hoffer?” “Yes, he poked her.” “Did you see it?” “Yes, I saw it once.” “And the other times?” “She just told me about them.” Turning to my father, he said: “Mr. Mutzenbacher, I am sorry that you have been obliged to hear this pitiful story; that such an erring educator, without conscience, should have ruined your daughter. Be consoled; the child is young. I assure you that no one will ever hear of this, and by keeping a strict moral watch over her, I hope that all evil results will be avoided.” We went home and then I felt convinced that the teacher had “ruined" me. He was sentenced to a long term in prison. The fact that he had “ruined” both Melani and me made the case doubly strong against him. (When I now think back that Melani and I had been “ruined” long before, as undoubtedly had been many of the other girls who had testified against him, I really feel sorry for him.) But this affair seemed to have decided my entire future life, as you will see as I proceed with my story. I might have been a good, true woman, as is Melani, who is married now and mistress of her father's inn. She is surrounded by a brood of her own children. A number of my former schoolmates also have pleasant homes and families. These early indiscretions did them no harm. Undoubtedly, the fear of becoming pregnant had a great bearing on their purity, until they fell in love and married. Although they say that they have been indiscreet at times, as my mother has been, in the eyes of the world they were honorable, good wives; they did not become whores, as I have done. In my next chapter, I will write of the adventures which caused me to become a courtesan.