Nor did she. She took the exam, and scored 98%, the highest grade in the short history of the Academy; the Commandant would've accepted her gladly on that basis alone.

But that was only the start; she excelled scholastically as Kelly had expected her to. She was particularly adept with tablets, quite artistic; her SOC depictions were always incredibly accurate (although given her nature and that these weren't real, they usually held some subtle joke, such as the one where one passer-by was a juggling clown and another was a cartoonish beaver walking on its hind legs and snacking on a tree branch, or the one which showed Wally and a Chad waving!).

Her time at the Academy was not without trouble or the odd setback, however; whatever else she was or might have been, Marie was as human and therefore as flawed as they come. Kelly and Marie had expected trouble from the start, and got it, albeit less than he'd expected.

One drunken student, egged on by his bitchy harpy of a lover, tried to rape her in her first month, ignoring the fact that she was (officially) only 16, and got away with nearly being castrated, while the bitch suffered a sound beating.

She had wanted to enjoy watching Marie being raped, as Margaret had watched and relished Cathy's violation in Blood On Satan's Claw. She had climaxed, sweating and shuddering with sadistic delight, as a result - climaxing again, in shock and perverted pleasure, when Angel Blake brutally murdered Cathy with a pair of sheep shears, sacrificing the poor girl for the sake of the Devil's Skin she carried on her back, enjoying the scent of her victim's blood from them, even tasting it.

Linny Raven, too, had enjoyed violence in Coogan's Bluff, becoming sexually aroused, actually hoping for blood, suffering and death, so the girl's perversion was hardly unprecedented or atypical.

The Unit Academy, Lecture Hall 3

Friday 10th March, 2028

Far from it, as a Unit psychologist told her cadets. "Despite what governments in the US and the UK have insisted for years, there is a causal link between violence and sexual arousal, which is why ‛rape porn' is now banned in the UK by the Criminal Justice & Immigration Act. Why else do so many women attend boxing matches, especially cage fights? Answer: as much as they try to deny it, deep down they want to see blood, and they get, shall we say, frisky when they do.

"Edwin Charles Tubb, a British novelist, covered this in his eighteenth Dumarest novel, Incident On Ath. A character, Sardia del Naeem, found herself first interested, then sexually aroused, on watching a knife fight between her lover Earl Dumarest and the champion, Yhma. When Dumarest crippled Yhma and slit his throat, Sardia - who had always thought of herself as a civilised woman, especially in her fourth decade - found herself climaxing. Without ever meaning to, she actually enjoyed Yhma's violent, bloody death.

"The behaviour of some women makes such a perverse reaction entirely plausible and realistic, unfortunately. There are some women of all ages who would enjoy watching knife fights if they were legal, and they would be clamouring for one or more deaths, with as much blood and pain as possible first. A man in the UK once wrote to a men's magazine to complain that his lover liked him to hit and even punch her during sex. I assure you, Cadets, that he was and is not unique."

Such a pronouncement seemed somewhat incongruous coming from a little blonde woman with close-cropped hair, a pentagram earring (she wasn't a cultist per se, but her lesbian lover was, and gave her devil-themed trinkets as presents) and no bra, but Georgina Summers, M.D., was every inch the professional; her students admired her no-nonsense teaching and her willingness to go to the mat for any student. She had lectured in the NYPD for eighteen years, and in the Unit Academy from its inception.

And she and Ursula Piper, her lover, had recently celebrated their 10th anniversary with a raucous party which had turned into a happy orgy.

Her students occasionally kidded her about it.

A female cadet piped up, "What about BDSM?"

But Dr. Summers shook her head. "By definition, BDSM - which in fact I have dabbled in with both sexes, partly as experiment, partly to show I'm not a prude, partly so I know what I'm talking about and partly for giving and receiving genuine sexual pleasure - is about consensual acts. The behaviour I'm talking about is not. He genuinely cared about his lover and didn't want to hurt her. But she wanted him to do just that, whether he wanted to or not.

"I once counselled a guy whose lover accidentally kicked him in the face once when he tickled her, bursting his lip, and he was honestly shocked when this turned her on like a bitch in heat. She stripped naked and demanded he screw her from behind - up her ass, to make sure it hurt - and she went wild when she saw the blood. She actually screamed "Hurt me! Make ME bleed!", and he was so overwhelmed he sought counselling. He'd honestly had no idea that she could be such a bloodthirsty pervert, or that she enjoyed both seeing and experiencing pain."

Georgina sighed sadly. "He broke up with her - not what I advised, but he felt it was for the best. A year later she received a prison sentence for actively encouraging the rape and brutal murder of a boy and a girl - she climaxed when each victim was raped, then again when each was murdered, i.e. four orgasms - even a fifth, on seeing the virgin girl's vaginal blood." She looked bleak as she informed her horrified cadets, "She was just four years old when her rapist and murderer crushed her throat, so as to drown her in her own blood."

Most of her audience were disgusted at the very least. The youngest girls and a couple of the younger men were in or near tears. Georgina sympathised. "I'm truly sorry to tell you all this, and I wish there was an easy or at least less distressing way to tell you. But as Academy cadets you must face up to the harsh realities of the world.

"Like it or not, and I really don't, there truly are degenerate perverts out there who enjoy the sight of blood, pain and death, and many of them, sadly, are women. It is my duty to tell you about them in order to prepare you, and it is your obligation to listen and learn. With that in mind, please let me continue...however distressing you may find it.

"First, though...gentlemen, have any of you ever suffered any kind of sexual pain, whatever the cause? Please don't be shy; I have a serious reason for asking, so I would appreciate your cooperation."

One young man, blushing, ventured, "I was in a play fight with a couple of other guys, and I was accidentally kicked in the crotch. It was definitely an accident," he hurriedly explained, "but, God, it hurt."

"Thank you - Lucas, isn't it?" The lad nodded. "Thank you. That was very brave. Anyone else, please?*

Another youth admitted, "I fell off a skateboard once and hurt my balls."

A third whispered, "I...I went through a phase when I was 14. I...hurt myself. I...did things to my genitals. I squeezed, twisted, I even cut my penis once. I almost cut my balls, but I chickened out. I confessed to a priest, and he prayed for me. I don't believe, but...it helped."

As unprofessional a gesture as it was, Georgina hugged him. "Thank you for sharing, Terry. That was really brave of you. I hope sharing it helped. This goes for all of you," she added gently, "if ever you feel the urge to self-harm in any way...please, please talk to someone. It doesn't have to be a doctor, a counsellor or any kind of professional - just talk to someone who wants to help. Someone you trust." She smiled gently. "My door is always open, and I am a very good listener who won't judge you at all, whatever you're caught up in."

"Um, Dr. Summers, what was the point?" a girl tentatively asked.

Georgina's gentle smile vanished. "I was making the point that injury of any kind to the penis and/or testicles can be, and usually is, very painful. I wanted you - I'm truly sorry, but I have to say this - I wanted you to truly understand just how much that little boy suffered before his death. To comprehend, if you can, the torment he endured in his last dying moments. To continue:

"The boy, who was only eight, was slowly castrated. First, his scrotum was slowly sliced open to expose his naked testicles. Each testicle was removed in turn, followed by his penis and his scrotum. Every cut was made very slowly, to give him time to bleed. COD for the poor lad was death by loss of blood...which she enjoyed and, the prosecution claimed, even drank."

Near tears, a girl asked, trembling, "Y - you mean she...she drank it from -"

"- from his crotch, yes." The girl wailed in distress. "Allegedly she put her mouth where his penis and testicles had been and drank the fresh spurting blood. She climaxed as he died. Then she had doggy sex with his murderer, both vaginal and anal. I have no doubt that the sight of the bloodied bodies of the two victims excited her further. In fact, when the police arrested them they were still in anal coitus. So I for one believe the allegation. It certainly fits the pattern of her perversion.

"Incitement to murder is a criminal offence in the State of New York as of 2026, and carries a minimum mandatory sentence of 20 years' penal servitude, and the First Amendment be damned. And if the motive is proven to be sexual," she added coldly, "the sentence is increased to life meaning life...as it should be. If New York still had the death penalty, I would advocate execution for sexually enjoying the violation and murder of a child - I would even carry it out. Not for pleasure, but for punishment.

"I know I, as a Unit Counsellor, should not say this, as it's too judgemental, but in my opinion she got what she damn well deserved. I'm sterile, I can't have kids, and in consequence I love them - so any pervert who gets off on kids being raped and murdered deserves punishment IMO, whether it's a man or a woman - especially if it's a woman. We are supposed to be the gentler sex, the caring and nurturing gender, so any such degenerate is a traitor to womankind. Frankly, I hate such degenerates, and I want them dead."

For all that her views were politically incorrect to say the least, Dr. Summers was not punished or even chastised when two offended (male) cadets reported her...because Commander McAllister knew all too well that women could be, or become, sexual perverts, like the Terror Twins he'd once dealt with in the NYPD. Eight innocents, thankfully all adults, had died for their sadistic pleasure, and Susie Kingston had derived sexual satisfaction from same as well.

Hell, she had told one victim exactly how she would die, how long it would take...and how much it would hurt. She had shuddered in a sexual paroxysm, dripping wet with arousal as Manisha Choudhury, pleading desperately for her life, had slowly drowned in her own blood, dying in unspeakable agony. She and her twin Parvati, who later committed suicide in an understandable fit of despair, were just 18 at the time.

The case had been referred to the Supreme Court, but on his own authority the Chief Judge of New York had declared incitement to be a criminal offence in his state as a direct result of the case; this was pushed through Congress by the NY Senator and others. "And don't you dare mention the ACLU or the First Amendment to me," the judge added furiously. "The Founding Fathers were brave, noble and wise statesmen who never, ever intended their Declaration or its Amendments to protect foul murderers of any sort!"

Until Detective McAllister and his team had stopped them, the Terror Twins had planned to enjoy hurting and killing children, perhaps even babies. Families all over the US, especially the mothers, breathed a sigh of relief as the two perverts were sentenced to life meaning life...in separate prisons, even though they were twins. The ACLU rep protested, "What they did was awful, yes, but haven't they been punished enough?"

Zahra Choudhury, the dead twins' mother, furiously answered, "NO, they have NOT! They should be executed for my daughter's evil death! She suffered so much before she died, and that perverted slut climaxed when she did, I saw her climax on the recording! If I only had the money," she sobbed, breaking down, "I would pay someone to kill them, may the Prophet forgive me. I want them to answer in full for what they did, and for what they wanted to do. I want them dead..."

The ACLU protested. But the public agreed with her. So did the NYPD.

And so did the Unit.

Though she hadn't told anyone, it was on a par with some of the horrible things Marie had seen on the street. Marie could and did sympathise with Zahra.

Vanessa Fielding had not enjoyed Marie's furious attentions at all. She suffered two black eyes, a fractured cheekbone and a badly wrenched arm. Marie spat with hate, "You're lucky I haven't killed you, you fucking depraved harpy! You wanted to enjoy my rape, didn't you? You get off on rape, don't you? Oh, I heard the rumours about you downloading CCTV footage of actual rapes! Well," she snarled, breaking Vanessa's arm expertly and almost enjoying Vanessa's choked scream of agony, "enjoy this, you fuckin' perv!"

Cadet Fielding had expected sympathy at first - after all, she had a broken arm. But the evidence against her was clear on a CCTV camera she hadn't known about; it had captured her gloating when Marie's would-be rapist had moved in...and Marie's professional takedown of the two.

Somehow, though, the footage of Marie breaking her arm was corrupted and irretrievable. So was the digital record of the evidence of her injury.

("Oops," Denny said later, with a faux sheepish look.)

Fielding and Isaac Newman were dishonourably expelled from the Academy, and the Commandant told them coldly, "You're lucky not to be facing criminal charges, you perverts - and in fact you will, if Cadet Simpson decides to press them!"

But Marie, busy as always and magnanimous, let it go.

The Unit Academy, Commandant's Office

The night of the cadets' dismissal

For the post mortem of the affair, Commander McAllister had borrowed the Commandant's Office; the only other attendees were Marie and Denny. The Unit's official AI recorder was active.

"A disgusting commentary on the Academy," Kelly groused as the proceedings neared their conclusion. "Still, they're out now." He cleared his throat. "There is, however, a little mystery I was hoping one or both of you could clear up. For some reason, the only available footage of ex-Cadet Fielding breaking her arm has become so badly corrupted it's irretrievable. Sergeant Murphy," he turned to Denny, "you're our resident data expert. Any thoughts?"

"No, sir," Denny shook his head. "Even in this day and age, even the best tech sometimes goes skiddy, and ours is no exception. Sir, I once wrote a paper on this. See, I noticed something: tech is getting more and more reliable over time, as you'd expect; MTBF goes up every year. But the unfortunate corollary of this, the downside, is that when the tech does fail...it fails badly."

"Hmm," the Commander noted in a non-committal manner. "Cadet Simpson?"

Marie shrugged. "Accident, maybe."

To himself, Kelly thought: Yeah, right. Vanessa Fielding's arm looked, the doctors had told him, as if had been broken by someone who held a) a very high unarmed combat rating, and b) a serious grudge. Her face looked neutral...in other words, she was giving nothing away. Denny, too, looked innocent as the driven snow. But as any engineer would tell you, if you knew how something was put together, you also knew how to take it apart. This applied as much to software as to physical equipment.

Denny Murphy was and always had been a digital expert.

But there was nothing Kelly could prove. The ‛paperless' policy of the Unit and its Academy was mostly a godsend, but there were occasional drawbacks to going paperless. He sighed in resignation. Obviously neither of them was about to give him anything. "Okay. But there are grounds for you to press charges, Cadet Simpson. Attempted rape is a serious crime...and so is incitement to commit same, as of 2026. In some ways, egging on a rapist is worse than actual rape. Do you intend to press charges?"

Marie appeared to consider it, but then shook her head. "Life's too short for grudges, sir, and with my Academy work and attending Tino's place part-time, I'm just too busy. In fact," she added, "I really should be getting back to work - I have a paper on Forensic Science due for Dr. Summers." She stood. "Permission to leave, sir?"

"Granted, Cadet. Good night." As Marie reached and opened the door, he added, "Oh, and - Cadet?"

Marie turned to him. "Yes, sir?"

Voice full of meaning - i.e. I know the truth but I can't prove it - he ordered quietly, "Don't let it happen again."

Picking up on his meaning, Marie nodded soberly. "Yes, sir. Good night."

The door closed behind her. There was a long minute of silence. Then Kelly ordered quietly, "Pause recording. Erase that last minute." He turned to Denny again. "Off the record, Denny, is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

"Sir?" The young officer looked back at him innocently, but his eyes said: You know damn well what happened, don't you?

Kelly's eyes answered: Yes, I do. But he sighed and said, "Well, these things happen. How's that report coming on the Simulation Room?"

Denny rose from his chair. "Almost done, sir. The Commissioner will like it - we need the upgrade, but I should be able to do it in-house, which will be cheaper without cutting any corners."

"Good," Kelly approved. As Denny reached the door, he added, "Denny...more than once in my time with the NYPD, and in the Unit, too, I broke a rule or two when it came to...protecting cadets."

"Yes, sir," he nodded. "All part of teamwork."

I know you know I know, Kelly thought again. But proving anything against Denny would be even harder than proving anything against Marie. So he growled, "G'wan, git outa here already. AI hardware or not, that report ain't gonna write itself."

With a chuckle, Denny nodded and left.

Once outside he breathed a sigh of relief. God, Commander McAllister really was shrewd. Denny knew the Commander knew what he'd done for Marie. But his artful data manipulation meant that there was no proof; there were advantages to the Unit being paperless. No way would the Commander act without proof, else IA would be all over him like a fungus.

But damn, that had been close.

In a fit of rage a month later, Newman tried to kill Marie - and this time she did not let it drop.

Plus she broke both his arms, and his left leg to boot. Again though...no evidence.

("Oops, part 2.")

Sometimes, as Kelly had said, the legal thing and the right thing aren't always the same thing.

Late in her first year she'd chastised a cadet who'd discovered her gang past and tried to deride her on that basis.

Offended on Julie's and Billy's behalf, she didn't quite kill him.

But Academy CCTV, in sound and vision via the state-of-the-art cameras, proved she was acting in self-defence, and a witness, one Cadet Alice Greenwood, testified that there certainly had been a great deal of provocation, which was why Marie wasn't thrown out of the Academy - and Brian Daniels was. Alice always took the side of the underdog; this endeared her to Marie and they became close friends, the closeted ex-Blood learning to open up for once.

In one session with Lance Aldrin, Marie became the first ever Academy student to actually bruise her trainer. Very pleased and impressed, he laughed it off and congratulated her - then threw her all around the gym. Therese, his wife (a Blue, twenty years younger but hopelessly in love with him), noticed the bruise that evening, asked about it and laughed, "A cadet did that to you?! Lance, my love, you are slipping!"

He let it go with just spanking, tickling and shagging her, to her giggling delight. Later she got pregnant as a result of unexpected interaction between her medication and her implant - she successfully sued the drug's manufacturers, but decided to keep the baby regardless, and Lance doted on little Dorathy. Her name was given to her because she was definitely a surprise...though cadets refrained from saying "Aww" when they saw the touching sight of Lance cuddling her, because they knew damn well how he would react!

Never again did he cut Cadet Simpson the slightest bit of slack, not that she ever wanted or expected him to. He drove her hard, but she took it, passing his training course with a higher grade than Kelly had gotten - close, in fact, to Duane's grade, and he'd been a Marine, as Lance had been.

Other cadets treated her with wary respect after that; she became known if not notorious as a determined, never-say-die scrapper who wasn't afraid of anyone and who would never, ever quit even if her opponent was armed and she wasn't. One, Yvonne Rimmer (no relation whatsoever to Red Dwarf's Arnold Rimmer; she was a brilliant cadet), was actually scared of her at first - until Marie realised this and became gently sympathetic to her. Thus was her second Academy friendship forged.

Marie helped Yvonne overcome her fear...and in fact the latter transformed into a formidable fighter. Off-duty or in an academic situation she was nice as pie...but put her in the gym or the dojo and she was not a person to be messed with. Her unarmed combat rating was almost as high as Marie's was, and her armed one was positively fearsome.

A fellow cadet, Tom Duquesne, trained Marie with firearms (though it was Unit policy not to use lethal weapons, cadets and Unit officers were still trained to use them Just In Case) - and found she was a natural, soon surpassing her teacher, at which point Duane took over, utilising his 21 years' experience as a Marine. Marie was a crack shot with small arms, rifles, the RBS-9 Needlebeamer, even ATRs and LAWs. She even practised cover and protection - when a live grenade was inadvertently used, she trusted her bulletproof ArmorLite™ vest to protect her.

Having been designed and created by Jerry Hamilton, it did. She suffered no more than cuts, bruises and a mild concussion.

Tom, who'd tossed the grenade, was aghast upon realising the error, but a touched Marie only hugged him whilst receiving medical attention, reassuring him that it wasn't his mistake. The armaments officer who had made the mistake was summarily dismissed.

"Dammit, Trask," McClane roared, "she could've been killed! There is no place in the Unit or its Academy for such stupid mistakes! You're outa here!" She turned to Marie as Donald Trask slunk out. "Cadet Simpson, that was the dumbest - and the bravest - stunt I have ever seen in more than thirty years of police work. Steve Rogers would've been proud, and his grenade was a dummy. Great work, Cadet. Now get your dumb brave ass to Medical. That's an order," she insisted before Marie could protest.

Marie did point out that this would spoil her attendance record, but it was Tom who shook his head. "When he set up the Academy, the Commissioner said that any official medical leave, i.e. not the cadet's fault, counts as attendance, Marie. Regulation 18-A. Besides," he pointed out charitably, "that's the last thing you should worry about right now, okay? C'mon, let's get you to Medical for a check-up, then home."

"I can manage," she protested, but then swayed alarmingly; luckily Tom caught her before she could fall. "Oops, whoa, no, I can't," she sheepishly admitted. "Thanks." He chuckled and took her elbow; she leaned into him. He was a strong, reassuring presence. In some way she couldn't quite define but liked, Tom reminded her of Bobby, though he was more mature even now than Bobby would ever be.

He supported her to Medical, as she was far from steady on her feet. The medics declared her as fit, but the doctor in charge ordered two days' bed rest - "Concussions aren't nothing, even minor ones. This is JIC, but it's still an order, Cadet. Besides, after such a brave stunt you deserve it."

"Two days' bed rest. Copy that, Doctor Ross," Marie acknowledged. She'd already learned better than to ignore medical advice - certainly from Perry Ross, who'd been an M.D. for longer than she and Tom combined had lived ("The only doctors I want to see in the Unit," the Commander said once, sternly, "are doctors I can take seriously - in other words, experienced doctors! No students, no kids, no-one who has less than ten years' experience putting people back together successfully and who can use a splint as readily as a more modern synthetic cast!").

Shakily she asked, "Tom, who's Steve Rogers?"

He laughed and escorted her to her apartment, where she spent the next two days recuperating and watching various Marvel movies on Netflix - starting with Captain America: The First Avenger. "Oh, so that's Steve Rogers," she remarked idly on seeing the puny, frail kid who just would not quit despite the enormous odds against him. "God, he's skinny," she added before Steve braved the Super-Soldier treatment. Tom grinned; that was similar to Colonel Chester Philips' sentiment. Thus was her third friendship established.

And a little more than friendship…

Marie succumbed to post-trauma stress as many had before her, impulsively kissing Tom. As she thought, Funny, I never noticed before how handsome he is, he mused, Wow, she's so pretty. In fact he said so.

For the first time ever, she felt shy. "Really?"

"Really," he assured her, stroking her black hair. They kissed again...but a little deeper this time.

"I like that," she breathed sensually, feeling mild perspiration starting. Already she was a little flushed.

"Yeah?" Her lips were so soft. He couldn't resist kissing her again; she melted against him.

"Don't stop."

"I won't." He kissed her a third time.

"Don't stop," she repeated. Her nipples were hard. So, she noticed, was his cock. Again she submitted to impulse, stroking it through his trousers.

"A little forward, isn't it?" he gently kidded.

Marie held his eyes, her pupils dilated in arousal. This feels right. It feels good. I want him. "Shut up and kiss me again." He readily accepted her invitation and did so. As his tongue sought and found hers, caressing it, she moaned softly in delight. Yes. Oh, yes.

Off to one side Candy was just arriving. She paused and smiled fondly; the two were unaware of her. I bet I know where this is going. Aw, they look so sweet together. It had long been a standing arrangement between her and Marie that either could bring friends and/or lovers over. Tempted as she was to join in - by her standards they were so cute - Candy allowed them their privacy, arranging to meet with Jocelyn via text. From their body language she knew they were, or would be, FWBs. She wished them well and left.

Neither saw her leave. They were too wrapped up in discovering each other.

As each took the other's clothes off, Tom whispered, "It's okay to be nervous."

She didn't answer. She was nervous, but not for the reasons he thought. She'd had sex before, but this was the first time since Julie that she'd given of her body, and she hoped Julie would have approved. But as Tom gently stroked her labia and a warm thrill passed through her body, she knew Julie would've been happy to see this, because Marie was happy. She spread her legs, her pussy wet and nipples rock-hard, and softly requested, "Please take me, Tom. I'm nervous...but I'm excited, too. I want you inside me. Take me now."

He did.

No-one at the Academy other than Duane and Jerry knew that Marie wasn't a virgin. So as far as Tom knew, he popped her cherry that night as they became FWBs. For the sake of secrecy she allowed him to believe he'd broken her in, not wanting to explain about Bobby Robson, who had been killed anyway just after Jerry the Fixer had left for Dallas. But in fact Tom was even more fun in bed than Bobby had been, a drinking buddy and FWB of whom Marie became very fond (she accepted Candy's gentle, affectionate teasing).

And Rhiannon Bonaventure, who dared her to "drop your skimpy panties, take out your tampon an' spread your legs wide, you dirty little bitch, I wanna eat you out an' lick your clit so bad!" one drunken night, was almost as much fun in bed as Julie had been.

Or in the kitchen.

Or in the shower.

Or in the Academy Gym, just once, with Tom standing jigger for them, and they were nearly caught at it. From that point on Marie declared herself as happily bisexual, taking both Rhiannon and Tom as her FWBs...often both at once, much to Rhiannon's lascivious delight - she too was bisexual, and had been since she was 10.

"Ten?!" her incredulous friends gasped; this was a revelation to them...one which Alice, their older friend, didn't hear because she was attending a late-night forensics lecture. It was a shame; like the rest of them, she liked talking about sex (and doing it; she had an older, non-Unit boyfriend who was a property trader) and would've enjoyed it.

Yvonne breathed, "I didn't even know what or where my clitoris was until I found a stash of porn my older brother had, and there was a two-page spread of a girl with her pussy wide open and wet, showing everything. I was so amazed I started touching myself the way she was doing, and I was so startled when I came!" She blushed.

"One way to find out!" Rhiannon laughed saucily. "How old were you?"

"14," Yvonne admitted, still blushing clear to her breasts.

To her surprise Rhiannon was sympathetic. "You only found your clit at 14? Aw, you poor thing, you missed out. Me, my Mom showed me her clit when I was three - she was a progressive sort, she thought knowing where your clit is and what it's for was mega-important. She even brought herself off with me watching, and God, she got so wet. That was the first time I got excited, but I'll be damned if it was the last!

"There was a really funny sequel to it," she went on, chuckling. "After I wanked and came, I got really thoughtful, even in preschool class. My teacher noticed and asked me if I had anything worrying on my mind. I just said, ‛I've got a clitoris.'" Rhiannon laughed. "God, she was so embarrassed, she didn't know where to look! She was only 20, a student teacher, and her supervisor, who was old enough to be her Mom, fell off her chair laughing!

"When I called Mom and told her, she came straight to preschool. The super was still laughing - she said to my Mom, ‛Rhiannon's not in trouble - she only told the truth. She does have a clit, every woman who hasn't been mutilated does! Oh, this is why I love being a teacher: thirty years I've been doing it and, bless their anything but innocent little hearts, kids can still surprise me with the home truths they come out with!' She and Mom laughed, comforted the student and hugged me, and Mom told me she was proud that I'd told the truth.

"I said, ‛But Mom, I do have a clitoris!' She laughed again, kissed me and said, ‛Yes, sweetheart, that is true, but that's not something you just announce to the world, okay?' She told me what was and wasn't appropriate, and I realised I'd embarrassed my teacher. So I apologised, and she and Mom became such good friends that once she qualified and got into a different school, I found them naked in bed together! That was how I found out about lesbian sex!"

"Ooh, a sexy story," Mike quipped.

Rhiannon laughed. "Oh, you know it, boyfriend! Okay, now, Sherman, set the Way-Back Machine," she was a fan of retro TV shows and movies, "for Tuesday 11th February, 2014…!"