I kept on looking at the Teacher prompt and wondering why I was not inspired to write a fantasy fiction tale about a sexy teacher. I was hoping it would come, but it did not. I think I figured out the reason why. So this is going to be a personal post, one from the archives of my teenage years, followed by an assessment of how I feel about protecting children. I am going to try to see if I can work on another post that will feature a teacher and a class of adult students. In fact this prompt also gives us a chance to tell you about the novella we are working on right now. But I wanted to explain why I had some writer’s block when I first saw this theme.
I honesty do not remember having a crush on any of my teachers at school. I don’t think any of them had any particular sex appeal. There was one maths teacher who seemed to relish opportunities to take sex-ed classes (which ended up in us all thinking he was a dirty old man), but there was nothing about him that would make a teenager girl feel excited. But you know what – I am very glad that was the case. I was a child. I was there to learn and complete my education. I was there to develop my comprehension and reasoning skills. Occasionally things happened at school which were a shock to me. A couple of girls who were thirteen became pregnant and gave birth. I think more had terminations in hospital. Sometimes a porn magazine would be floating around school, with images that seemed really gross back then.
School was there to develop my mental, social, and emotional behaviour, and prepare me for being an adult. Yeah there were some boys who excited me. Yeah we fooled around a little, but not a lot. I am truly glad that I made it through school virginity intact. Why? Because I was a child. Sex is an adult thing. It is not for children. I think children even from a very early age should be give some basic knowledge to protect them from anyone who would take advantage of their trust. The thought of anyone who would manipulate a child makes my blood boil.
As a youth, my body was not slow about developing noticeable feminine features. I was a little self-conscious throughout school because I had these two huge watermelons on my chest which I was kind of embarrassed about back then. I was tall, had long fair hair, and a large bosom. I was one of the popular kids. Some of the boys in our group were sweet on me. We sometimes had fun both in and out of school, but nothing serious. It was mainly just holding hands and kissing.
There was a teacher in my high school who I still find it hard to forget. He was often late for class. We would be left standing outside the classroom (which was always locked because of the equipment inside his room) waiting for him to arrive. He was an odd guy. I knew that, but most teachers were odd. Is it just me or are most teachers somewhere on the scale between eccentric and completely nuts? As far as lessons were concerned, I respected him for teaching us useful things. That’s all I was there for.
However, every now and then he would direct a personal remark about me, about my body, about the size of my breasts, that made his seem like a letch. One day I was queueing outside the classroom with a group of other kids when he turned up around fifteen minutes late for class. When he arrived, some of the lads started ribbing him about why he was late and he claimed he was asleep in the staff room and lost track of time. He then claimed, “I was having a great dream about a hot blonde with gigantic tits. She was cutting my hair (he was bald by the way) and then suddenly she jumped on top of me and started shagging me. Oh there she is now!” and he pointed at me. The other kids looked awkward. Some laughed, but I know it was more of an embarrassed laughter.
Even today the memory of that day makes me mad. Sure, I was embarrassed. But what makes me angry is that I was a child. I should not have been subjected to that by a teacher.
My parents were careful to provide some basic sex education before I ever started school. I am glad of that because it helped me realize when the kids in my class were talking crap. My parents left me with a healthy viewpoint, that sex would be awesome when I was an adult and fell in love with a super-nice guy. They explained that it was not going to be anywhere near as fun if it was something I tried to get involved with too early. They were right.
I love sex. But I think I love it because I see it as a healthy and meaningful part of a relationship for two adults. However, I feel strongly that children should be allowed their innocence. Basic sex education to protect them is important, but I don’t think they should be exposed to anything that makes them feel uncomfortable early on.
I was a teenager when the teacher above made that comment about me. I am still angry with him years later. I think he is the reason why when I looked at the prompt teacher I had a creative block. Teachers at school should allow children to concentrate on their education.
Ben and I love roleplay. It is so much fun and keeps sex on the playful side. But I object to one scenario. I won’t dress up as a schoolgirl. I did it once, pretending that Ben was my teacher and I had been a naughty girl who needed to be disciplined by her teacher, but I told Ben that it made me sick. He is totally fine with that and when I explained why it made me uneasy he completely saw where I was coming from. Any other roleplay is fun. Adult characters though.
I know I might sound kind of high and mighty here, but I have a number of friends who were sexually abused by relatives and adults their parents trusted (sports clubs and youth groups). That abuse messed with their mental, emotional and physical health on so many levels. They have all struggled with confusion about relationships, trust, their own identity, their romantic feelings. They have all battled depression and in all honesty, they seem scarred for life. Knowing what happened to them only adds to my feelings of disgust at anything that promotes the concept of an adult taking advantage of a child. I don’t want it to have any part of my fiction, poetry or other creative writing, nor in my intimate life with my lover.
Sex is for adults.