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"Okay now, class, settle down." The svelte female jaguar at the front of the room peered through her spectacles at the assembled gaggle of teen-agers and frowned lightly. The frown caused her ears to swivel just a little and the end of her tail gave a sympathetic flick from side to side in a display of mild annoyance, catching the hem of her skirt as it moved. The youngsters settled down only slowly, talking to each other and making a large display of opening books, setting out pens and closing bags. In truth, she hadn't expected much else: new to the school, she lacked the authority that the other Masters and Mistresses had developed over years of experience, at this institution or others, and she knew that the students sensed that, and would take advantage. That was almost taken as granted.

Still, it gave her an opportunity to look out over the assemblage of students, picking out the jocks and the jills, the quiet, diligent student and the bully, the cowardly and the brave, those who could and would and those who could and cared less. The mix of species was pretty heterogeneous, dogs and cats rubbing shoulders with antelopes, the odd bovine and even a mouse. It was particularly interesting that some of those whom one might think would be more confident were not, and vice versa: one of the more actively aggressive members of the audience was the mouse, his ears perked, tail swaying with confident ease and one arm around a petite Border Collie female whose tongue lolled happily. It didn't escape her attention, either, that arm was low enough for his hand to be down the back of her skirt. Her eyes were drawn in particular to several well-formed young males who lounged in their seats, looking around their peers with airs of assumed confidence and superiority; I know I shouldn't, but I can't deny they're pretty hot.

"Settle down, I said!" The bark of command she gave surprised the students, and even herself. In a moment, quiet began to fall properly, and she was gratified to see at least the majority of eyes turn in her direction. "Thank you. Now, it's two minutes past ten, so we're going to get started. My name is ---" Her introduction was interrupted by the squeaking of a door at the back of the lecture hall. A slender red snout peeked inside, and was followed by the rest of the latecomer, a tall crimson dragon who paused at the top of the stairs to look for a space, spotted one near the front and fairly trotted down the steps, narrowly avoiding a hindpaw that had been shoved out at the last second in an obvious attempt to make him fall. Her annoyance faded somewhat, but not entirely: first-class nerves kept it raw. She watched the dragon come down the stairs and take his seat, folding himself into the too-small chair with difficulty compounded by the rather formal attire he wore. That he could carry off a shirt, bow-tie and waistcoat at his age was impressive, but it wouldn't endear him to the others.

"So nice of you to join us," she said, her voice dripping sarcasm. The resulting laugh made the young dragon cringe, glance around and try to make himself even smaller. "Now, as I was about to say, my name is Mary Lansingburgh, and I'll be teaching you for this class, Biology forty-one-oh-seven, 'The Biology of Reproduction'."

"Go sex ed!" The voice came from somewhere at the back of the room, and was followed by a mixture of laughter, cheers and woo-woo noises from throughout the hall.

"Quiet!" Mary roared, fixing her eyes as firmly as she could on the person she thought was responsible for the outburst. "Quiet, all of you!" Now, she really had their attention. "Let me make one thing absolutely clear, boys and girls. This is a new class, and I am a new teacher, but that does not mean I am either incompetent or incapable. Because of the changes in the law, you are required to take this class in order to graduate: that means that I hold your futures in my paw. Remember that this class will only be taught once per year. Do you really want to be held back a year?" She looked around the room and was gratified to see everybody looking at her. "I thought not."

She eased herself from the front of the lectern upon which she had been leaning, crossed behind it and looked down at her notes. "So. Biology forty-one-oh-seven, 'The Biology of Reproduction'." She paused: not a sound. Good. "Now, this class will be taught in two ways, through lectures and through experiential opportunity. Lectures will take place during the other class; once we've got through the basics, we'll go directly into what we're doing for today.

"The program is designed to help you understand better the nature of reproductive biology, as it says. And, as one of you males pointed out, yes, that means sex education." This time, when the class snickered, she let it go; she didn't fail to notice, however, the uncomfortable expression on the face of the young crimson dragon, nor the way the silver plates beneath his chin seemed to become a slightly dusky shade of pink. "This covers a lot of ground, including the mechanisms of arousal, in- and inter-species mating, fertility levels in females and males, and the feasibility of cross-breeding." She looked directly at the mouse jock who still had his hand down the feline girl's skirt and saw that he was deliberately avoiding her gaze. "We shall also be covering some particular mating habits of various species, such as canines, felines, equines and some cervines; this includes the size of the penis... so anybody who's been bragging up to now, I'm about to call your bluff. This week, however, given your age, we'll be discussing something very important, namely prophylaxis.

"Can anyone tell me what prophylaxis is?" Mary asked, pausing to look around the room. She saw a hand go up at in the middle of the room. "Yes?"

"Weren't they the band who did Baby I Want Your Love Thing?"

The class laughed, and Mary pouted. "No, they didn't." She let a beat go by. "Actually, that was the Stone Archers; made number one two years ago. What, nobody thought I liked rock music?" A fangy grin split her face. "Anybody else?

"Yes?" It was the slender dragon whom she had shamed who had, slowly and tentatively, raised his hand. He glanced around behind him, then, seeing no-one else offering, gestured to himself and gave a questioning tilt of his head. "Yes, you."

"'Prophylaxis' means prevention," he said in a voice that was somewhere between a high tenor and what would probably become a rich and resonant bass-baritone, but for now was in the squeaky transitional period. "In this context, birth control. Condoms, intra-uterine devices and the like. Hormone control pills. Er, vasectomies?..."

Mary looked at him steadily for a moment, saw the nervous twitch of his tail. "Quite right," she replied before turning back to the class. "Birth control. As I said, pretty important for your current time of life." The grin that spread her muzzle was a touch sardonic but also entirely genuine.

"Now, as I said earlier, this class has never been taught before, so it's entirely experimental. This means that I had a free hand in designing it. Given the subject matter, I thought it would be important to include experience-based learning ---" There was a shuffle of feet and bodies from around the room. "Yes, that means exactly what you think it means. I had to fight it fang and claw past the Deans, the Principal and the Board, not to mention your own parents, but I'm delighted - for your sake - to be able to tell you that I was able to persuade them that it would be in your, and even their, best interests for you to have sex on school time."

She'd had to raise her voice to be heard over the growing hubbub that had followed her statement of intention, but when she finished her last sentence the storm broke in a chorus of cheers, whoops and outright laughter. Boys high-fived other boys, doubtless making suggestive comments about females and the size of their potential; girls laughed or blushed shyly, depending on their nature; jocks grinned and set their shoulders at a more jaunty angle, and the more diffident males managed weak smiles. Only the young dragon in the front row looked actively disturbed at the suggestion, his eyes wide and pointed ears tucked back slightly against the round of his head; he glanced around himself, almost as though seeking escape, and appeared to withdraw on himself even more.

"Right. Now." The noise continued, so she raised her voice again. "Now, before we go any further, I have to make one thing absolutely clear. This is an experimental class, which means that it could be cancelled at any moment. Are you listening to me?" she snapped as one of the canines in the room, a brindled Shiba Inu, was still whispering in conversation to his neighbour. He looked up, saw her staring at him, and nodded. "Good. In fact, the Board is just dying to shut it down. My reputation is on the line here, people, and so is your free sex time, so let's understand this now and not do anything to jeopardise this class.

"Another thing. I appreciate that some, even many, of you may be in relationships. However, when you're in this class, you're not. No, don't talk," she said, holding up her paws and coming from behind the lectern once more. "This is an educational space, and an opportunity for learning. If there are any issues between you and your date, you both need to come and see me and we'll work them out. But in here, you're single. Got that?" Silence. "Good.

"So, we're going to make a start. Today, we're going to look at the use of condoms as prophylactics." She reached into a box under the central table, took out another and set it on the table. It contained a neatly-stacked line of envelopes. "Here's how it's going to work. I want the guys to come and find an envelope with their name on it. Inside, you'll find a card with a name and a room on it, a condom and a set of instructions for how to use it. The name is the name of your partner for today. The gym next door and the main hall have been set up with small cubicles: each one is assigned to one pair, each one has a small mattress, and yes, they're soundproof. There'll be a nurse in each room to help you if you need it, and to collect your used condoms at the end." In total contrast to the earlier jaunty spirit in the room, there was an embarrassed silence: the students, faced by the sheer mundanity of her description, had become almost cowed, and even the jocks were looking a little uncomfortable.

"Any questions?" The jaguar turned her attention slowly around the room, saw no hands raised, and nodded. "Good. Guys, come down and get your envelopes. Come on," she said a moment later, as there was little movement, "we haven't got all day."

One at a time, then in twos and fours and fives, the males in the room stood, made their way down the stairs to the front and began riffling through the box for the correct envelope. Mary leaned on the lectern, supervising and taking further mental notes on the students as they milled around, collected their package and moved away. There was a lot of hesitation on everybody's part, but slowly the pairs formed up, a male and female each of the same species. It was obvious that certain ones had some issues, not just individually but as a pair: numerous were the glares and tucked ears as the young people found out who would be the partner for the day. One person, though, was conspicuous by his absence, the crimson dragon who remained seated even as the last of the others were leaving the room. Although there was an odd number of students in the class - Frustrating, but it couldn't be helped - it was noticeable that he hadn't even come up to the front in search of a name. Is he so shy? so isolated? that he wouldn't even try?

She glanced at him, then went over to him, passing behind the lectern as she did so. Ah, that's it, then. He's my student for today. What's his name...? Oh. Interesting name. As he watched her approach she saw his tail try to sway and curl, caught between him and his seat. "You must be Benedict Spenser," she said, smiling. "I'm sorry but since there is an odd number of students, you'll be working with me today."

His face twisted into concern. "Er, Miss Lansingburgh?..." he began tentatively. "Might I... might I be excused this class?"

Mary stopped in her tracks, simultaneously frowning and feeling her eyes widen. I hadn't expected that. "I'm sorry, Benedict, but I can't do that without good reason. Are you sick?" Actually he looked like the paragon of health, eyes bright and scales reflecting brightly in the overhead lights. He looks nervous --- No, he looks terrified. Poor kid. "Then I'm afraid I can't give you a pass."

The young male swallowed. "I, uh... Well, I know all about prophylactics, so I thought, maybe..."

"I'm afraid not."

"Oh. Oh."

Mary smiled, and reached over to touch his hand. "Don't worry, Benedict. It's not as scary as you might think, or as big a deal as you've probably been told."

"I, er... No, it's... That is to say, yes."

Something about his awkwardness made her smile again. She stood erect once more and turned to go and collect the empty boxes and her notes from the lectern. "We'll be using my office, Benedict, so we won't be disturbed. I also have a free class next period, if you like..." Her tail eased up a fraction and swayed from side to side as she spoke, looking back over her shoulder and giving him the most sultry smile she dared give a student. He looks even more scared now. What's going on?

Benedict rose, slowly, his books tucked under one arm. Now freed from its confines, his tail was able to express itself fully and did so, twisting and curling around one leg and ankle, uncurling, swaying, tucking and curling again. With evident reluctance he crossed the front of the lecture hall behind her, following the young female through the deserted halls to her office.

"Here we are," she said, opening the door and letting him in first. She closed and locked the door behind her, and he noticed as he turned to watch her that a large coat had been hung over the small window, obscuring it and providing complete privacy. It's comfortable, at least. And... well, safe. Strangely, he thought, taking in the wooden shelves of books, desk and chair, soft chairs dressed with throws and cushions, sofa against one wall. So busy looking around was he that he didn't notice what she was doing until she spoke. "Benedict?" Her voice was a low purr of invitation, and when he finally looked at her he saw that she had opened her blouse. Three pairs of petite breasts, pert and not requiring of support, covered her front; as he watched she reached around herself and a soft noise indicated she had unzipped her skirt. A moment later it fell to the floor, leaving her naked except for her underwear. "Do you like what you see?" she asked, taking a step nearer.

"Guh..." Benedict's voice felt lost, somewhere in his throat. "I, uh..."

"It's all right, Benedict. Just relax. Why don't you get undressed, too?"

"I, uh..." he said again, glancing around. "I... no, I don't... I don't think I should."

She tilted her head gazing at him. "Why not?"

"I... don't think it would be a good idea?" The statement came out as a question, agitation causing his voice to change.

"Well, why don't you let me be the judge of that." When the dragon still didn't move, she sighed. "Your family was among those who thought this was a good idea, Benedict: I know you're not prudish. So come along, take off your clothes. I'm not going to bite you." The desire that had begun to grow in her was being eroded by frustration, and the double frustration was edge in her voice. Dammit. I didn't mean to do that.

"A-all right. But, I, uh... it's..." He sighed, leaning to put his books on a nearby chair. "Miss Lansingburgh, I'm sorry, I really can't do this." Tail and ears drooped, head hanging.

She fixed him with a firm gaze. "Don't be ridiculous, Mister Spenser, of course you can do this. It's elementary biology. The most basic thing two people can do together, and the whole reason for life itself, fundamentally. Reproduction. So what makes you so special, hmm?" Frustration was edging into her voice now.

"I... I just can't. Please, I can't, I... I don't want to, and I can't."

"I'm not going to take that as an answer, Benedict. Either you give me an answer, or you go to the Principal's office and fail the class."

The young dragon looked up at her. The silver plates of his front visible beneath his chin gleamed in the bright sunlight that filtered through the drapes, and his eyes were distant and sad. "I..." The squared shoulders fell to droop with his tail and his head dropped again; when he spoke, his voice was a whisper. "I'm... I... I don't like girls, Miss Lansingburgh. I... I'm homosexual." Benedict closed his eyes, and waited.

His teacher's voice was bright. "Oh, Benedict, you're not homosexual." Benedict, startled, looked up to see Mary's squared jaguar muzzle open in a warm smile, eyes shining. "Benedict, believe me, you're not homosexual. I know at your age that you probably want to, well, experiment with other males, and you might have very strong feelings for some of them, even. But your parents aren't homosexual, and so neither are you: that's the way it works. It takes two gay people to have a gay child. Remember your genetics class?...

"It's all right to be confused about it, Benedict. Adolescence can be a very confusing time: so many changes, all happening at once. Lots of young men, especially shyer ones, can be confused. It just takes a little time, and the right female, and you'll forget all about this and live a happy, normal life. Believe me; I've read quite a number of studies on this subject. It might feel painful now, and difficult, and it might take a little time, but, honestly, you'll find I'm right." Mary smiled at her young charge, stepped over and placed her hands on his chest. Felt the lithe strength there, the young male yet to blossom into the handsome adult male dragon he would become, and looked up into his eyes. "Now, then. Come along. Take your clothes off, and we'll mate. You'll enjoy it: you'll see."

Benedict's mind fumbled for a response, and found none. Numbly, fingers acting on sheer automatism, he removed his trousers, slipping them down carefully over his tail and digitigrade legs before folding them neatly. Next, his waistcoat, and bow tie. God, thought Mary, hurry up! This is worse than a strip show! Oh, heavens, this boy is going to be a stud, and --- Bloody hell, I'm going to be his first! As he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the slender chest she had felt before, covered in wide, slightly overlapping, silver plates, she felt desire spike in her again and the first flush of moistness between her legs. The young male slipped off his shirt, folded it, and turned to face her, clad, as she was, in just her underwear.

Mary drew in a breath as she saw Benedict almost entirely exposed to her. "God... you're beautiful." The words came out in a breath without her even thinking about it. For he was. Long, slender legs ending in three-taloned digitigrade feet arched up, muscles taut and strong, to a rear that even without her seeing it she knew would be tight and perfect. His body was still thin, yes, but he was far from scrawny: either from working out or from natural good fortune, broad shoulders tapered down to slimmer hips. And his long, pointed muzzle, the dark forked tongue that flickered into the air and over his lips, the two fangs that projected down slightly over his lower lip from his upper mandible, the bright, inquisitive eyes that currently darted around the room and displayed fear she chose to ignore, the twisted, curved horns and pointed ears --- she drank him all in, then stepped closer. God, he's on fire, too! So warm! A hand came up and began to caress the plates of the boy's chest, rubbing lightly at the completely smooth surface and feeling the shape of it, the pulse of his heart. And then the final step closer, and they were touching. Through his underwear she could feel the large bulge of his sheath, felt it contract and constrict as he looked down at her and swallowed. "Benedict... you are... so... bloody... handsome... You are going to make some female very, very happy."

Benedict tried to force a weak smile and almost managed. "Th-thank you, Miss Lansingburgh."

She giggled, kissed under his chin. "Benedict, we're going to mate. Call me Mary."

"Mary." He spoke as though trying it on for size. A soft grunt escaped his lips a moment later as he felt a warm, soft-furred, soft-padded pawhand find his crotch and begin to stroke the sheath there, slowly and gently encouraging, teasing; despite his fear, despite his reticence, he felt it begin to swell, little by little.

"Mmmh... see, Benedict?... You're not gay. Not gay at all." Oh, heavens, he's going to be huge. Even now. When he's fully grown... I don't want to think about it! --- Who'm I kidding, of course I do! "Why don't you come and lie down, hmm?"

In a daze, Benedict felt himself move over to the impromptu bed in the middle of the room and lie down next to his teacher. Her paws wandered over his body, and, in the same spirit of experimentation, he touched her gently, carefully: her moans became his guide, and when she removed her panties, he took off his boxers. His erection had barely begun, but the touch of her hands, slow and patient and then less so, and the warmth of her muzzle and raspy, broad tongue, brought him to arousal sufficient.

Mary was about to straddle him, take him within her, when she heard him say, "Miss La --- Mary?"

"Mmmh?" She glanced down. "Benedict? What is it? Would you like to be on top?"

"N-no... but... Shouldn't we use a condom? This was a prophylaxis class."

Irritation attempted to nudge desire out of the way but failed. "Mmmf... yes... all right." Leaning over him she rifled through one of her desk drawers, found what she was looking for and brought out a large foil packet. "Shall I put it on you?" she asked, ripping it open and producing a condom sized for a small equine.

"No, I'll do it," Benedict said in a voice that was suddenly steady. The red, black-taloned fingers that took the rubber from her seemed to belong to someone else and it felt as though he was watching himself watch his hands place it upon the tip of his erection and roll it down. "Oohhh..." Despite the second-hand nature of the sensation, one borrowed from someone else's life that he'd been permitted to experience, it was the most pleasant he'd had since the lesson had begun and his moan, though somewhat stifled, was genuine. It struck her that the groan of desire he gave as he unrolled the condom was the first she'd heard him give since she'd begun, and a stab of frustration shot through her. It didn't escape her notice, either, that, now he'd stroked himself, his cock was harder than ever, curved slightly upwards, tapering a little from its thick base at the sheath to the sightly pointed, drooling tip. Damn... that only just fit him, she thought. _And it's the biggest I have... Gods, he's going to be hung. _

I can't wait. I don't want to wait. I have to... God, Benedict, I want you. "Benedict..." She moved over the boy who gazed evenly up at her, guided his tip to her folds and took him inside; and, in due time, the lesson was complete.

*

"Miss Lansingburgh?"

The voice of the Principal, Martin Heatherstone, pulled Mary from her lunchtime reverie. She looked up from her journal and blinked a little: seated as she was, the head of the elegant chestnut Shire was even higher above her than normal. "Yes, Martin? What can I do for you?"

"May I have a word with you in my office, please."

She frowned briefly. "Certainly." When the Principal asks, you're never busy. She folded back the journal to mark the place, rose and went with him into his office, and was shocked to see already there Daniel and Penelope Spenser, who looked up and then rose to greet the two teachers as they entered.

"Mister and Missus Spenser," she said, offering her right paw to shake; after a moment's consideration, it seemed, the two dragons gave a peremptory clasp of her paw. "Nice to see you again."

Daniel nodded. "Miss Lansingburgh."

"Mary, have a seat," Martin said, settling himself in his own oversize chair and gesturing at a chair set at one end of his desk. Mary sat, glancing around. The Principal seemed to be waiting for something, glancing back and forth at the two dragons. "Mary, there's been some... issues... regarding your teaching of the reproductive biology class. Specifically, your conduct towards Benedict Spenser."

The jaguar's eyes opened wide, and then her brows drew together. "I... I don't understand. What issues?"

"Specifically, that Benedict asked you to stop, several times, during the first session of the semester, and you didn't. He says that he gave you a reason, though he wouldn't tell his parents what it was."

"We asked him several times." Daniel's voice was deep and melodic. "He would always just shake his head, and look away, or change the subject."

"He hasn't been himself since the day of that class," Penelope added. "I don't know what went on, Principal Heatherstone, but that afternoon he came home and locked himself in the bathroom for over an hour. He was in the shower all that time: I could hear the water running."

"And his grades have gone down, too, in the two weeks since then. He doesn't seem to be able to concentrate, and he's lost interest in everything, even the amateur theatre group. He's the lead, you know; they're supposed to be off-book in ten days and he's not learning his lines. It's not like him."

Heatherstone looked at Mary who sat, looking back and forth, a concerned and frightened expression on her face. "Now, Mary... this was a very experimental class, and one we all four believed in. And if something has happened to one of our students because of it, we need to know." He paused, judging his words carefully. "Can you tell us what happened that day, please? Just in the private session, not the open lecture."

"I..." Even to her, Mary's voice sounded small and faint. "I... Well. I took Benedict back to my office, to mate. You know that was the idea of the first class? Prophylaxis, use of condoms... we thought it was the best way to start, given how quite a lot of students are already -"

"Yes, we know." Martin's voice was equable; the other three were all nodding. "Go on."

"Er - well... Well, I got back to my office and set out the mattress. Benedict didn't seem very confident, so I tried to encourage him. I thought it was important that he get the information, that we got the class off to a good start... so I helped him as best I could, and we... well, we mated. Using a condom." The last sentence flew from her mouth and her ears scorched beneath her golden fur as she darted glances at the two dragons, neither of whom seemed in the least bit disconcerted about her talking about having sex with their teenaged, of-age, son.

"Did he give consent to mating, Mary?" The equine tilted his head a little to get a fully clear view, fixing one brown eye upon her. "That's the important thing here."

Mary frowned. "He didn't say 'no', if that's what you mean."

Martin glanced at the Spensers, who had looked at each other and were frowning slightly. Penelope leaned over and said something to her husband, who nodded. Penelope settled again and said, "Miss Lansingburgh - Mary - you were hired to do a difficult job, and you came with glowing recommendations. This is not a court of enquiry, or even an arbitration. We just want to know what happened to our son, and you're the only one who can help us. You're the only one except Benedict who knows the truth, and until we know, too, we can't help him.

"Did he consent to mating?"

Mary's gaze shifted around the room. Her tail twitched as best it could, and beneath her fur, despite the coolness of the room, she felt overly warm. "He... he mated with me. He... he said he didn't want to at first. But then he did. I thought it was just first-time nerves, if you understand?" She looked around and was relieved to see Penelope and Daniel both nodding; Martin remained quiet and still. "He struck me as a little... well, shy. Reserved. Awkward. Not very comfortable in himself." The two dragons had stopped nodding and now grins were on their faces. "Er... did I say something wrong?"

"I'm trying to imagine Benedict as 'shy' or 'reserved'," commented Daniel in a dry, amused tone, "that's all."

"Oh, come on," said Penelope, "you know he can be a little cautious in new situations."

"At first, I suppose."

"He was late to class," Mary remembered, "and I called him on it. I'm sorry I..." Her shoulder slumped a little. "It was the first class, and I..."

"You wanted to make an example of him." Daniel finished her sentence for her; Mary nodded mutely, head low. "I understand. That wouldn't have helped, certainly. Benedict is quite sensitive. More than you'd think."

"Still, that little dressing-down wouldn't have caused this." Martin's deep voice filled the room, as much as he spoke quietly. "He's not_so_ sensitive."

"No, he's not." Penelope's voice was sure. "Mary, you said he didn't want to mate with you at first, but then he did anyway. That doesn't sound like he gave full active consent: you know that was part of the agreement with the Board that allowed us to do this in the first place."

"But we mated! He was very quiet, but we mated."

"That may be so, Mary, but full active consent was part of the deal."

The young jaguar felt her eyes pricking and blinked. "He... he was so shy! He didn't know what to do, I had to show him everything!" The words sounded like an excuse, even to her ears. "He just stood there and said he didn't think he could."

"Why not?" Daniel again. Those reptilian eyes with their vertical pupils settled firmly upon her, and for the first time she saw the true dragon coldness there. "We've been dancing around it since we got in here. Mary, tell us why Benedict said he didn't think he could mate with you."

Mary looked over at Martin desperately, then back at the dragons. "I... He was confused, he said something that didn't make sense."

"What did he say?"

"I... I can't..." She shook her head. "No, I can't..."

"Mary." Martin's voice, low, stern but soft-spoken, took her attention. "Mary, if Benedict didn't give full active consent, you know what that means. You know what we could be facing. And I have to say, I'd support the Spensers. I'd support you, but I'd support them, too. So tell us what Benedict said."

I know what prey feels like when it's cornered. Mary lowered her head, raised it again, and looked first at Martin, then at Daniel and Penelope, then at Daniel. "I... I didn't want to say, because I don't know how, and it's... it's difficult, and anyway it isn't true."

"Tell us, please." Penelope. "We're his parents. We have the right to know."

Mary found herself nodding. "Well... I..." One last breath. Get it over with. No easy way. "I... Benedict told me that he thinks he is... that he doesn't... that females aren't..."

Daniel's voice cut into her circumlocution. "He told you he's queer."

Mary nodded, tension leaving her body. "Yes. But he's only seventeen, he's far too young to know. Besides, Daniel, Penelope, genetics: it takes two gay parents to have a gay child. That's what the current literature says. And neither of you would raise your child - raise Benedict - to be a, a, an invert, would you? He's a normal, healthy boy, and it's normal for healthy boys to experiment with, with, other boys..." She trailed off, seeing the two dragons staring at her. My God... they're actually angry! she thought as a wisp of smoke eased from the nostrils of both of them, dissipating swiftly and leaving behind a faint sulphurous note. Mary looked at Martin, but saw nothing there, so turned back desperately to the Spensers. "Benedict was just confused... he and I mated, he, er, he achieved completion, using a condom, as required... er... I was surprised that he knew how, actually: he was rather proficient, in fact."

"Was it good for you?" Daniel's voice was flat.

"Er... what?"

"Was it good for you? It's a simple question. Did he feel good inside you? We all know how good-looking he is, and he's quite strong and very well-endowed. And we dragons are known for our virility."

"So it's a simple enough question, Miss Lansingburgh." Penelope continued where Daniel had left off, and it didn't escape Mary's notice that Penelope's eyes were as flat and cold as her husbands'. "Yes or no. Was it good for you? Did you, in short, enjoy raping our son?"

Fear surged through Mary's petite body; she didn't feel her claws unsheathe and dig, hard, through the fabric of the chair and into the padding beneath. "I... I didn't..." Her voice squeaked. "I didn't rape him! I did no such thing! He thought he was homosexual! He just needed some help to find himself! I was doing the right thing!" The feline's insides felt cold and hot, clenched into a tight knot of adrenaline-fuelled terror. "He's only seventeen, how could he know?!" She flung the words out.

Daniel's gaze was almost melancholy, despite the anger that still flared in his eyes and the tense set of his neck. His voice matched his expression. "Miss Lansingburgh... Benedict has been using condoms since he started mating with his first boyfriend."

"He was fourteen," added Penelope, and her tone was a match for her husband's.

*

"All right, class, settle down." The rich bass rumble of the Principal soon brought order, and he looked around him steadily. "Thank you. As some of you are aware, Miss Lansingburgh has unfortunately had to leave the school, for personal reasons. We are of course very sorry to lose a valued member of our staff. However, it means that, as we have no qualified teachers for this course, we will have to review how it is taught. I shall be teaching it in the interim. As I don't have Miss Lansingburgh's qualifications, this course will be taught like any other; so there will be no more, ahem, 'experience-based learning'." His head canted to one side and he stared around the room again, daring anyone to speak; none did, not even the jocks or the mouse: everyone seemed remarkably subdued. News travels fast, he thought. They all know what happened to Benedict, I'm sure... funny how they'll protect the one they used to mock. At least we found out what happened, and he can work on getting over it.

Oh God, I hope he'll be all right.

Please, God. Make Benedict all right. Please. He's such a good boy.

"Okay, class. Open your textbooks at page seventy-eight. Today we're going to look at the anatomy of the penis. The penis is the male organ of reproduction..."

Oh God, please God, make Benedict all right.

*

"Benedict?... Benedict, can you hear me?" The voice was low, rich; it would have been insidious were it not so gently used. The dark-scaled dragon who sat on the large, opulent chair gazed at his young charge, stretched out upon the long sofa.

"Yes, I can hear you." Benedict's eyes were closed and his body completely relaxed. Not even his tail moved, but his muzzle merely. His voice was steady and uninflected.

"We're going to go to a place of complete safety. Imagine a safe place in your mind, one where no-one can hurt you. I am walking alongside you, Benedict. Let us go to your safe place now."

"... mmh... safe... Quentin..." Benedict's muzzle curled languidly into a small smile and a bulge began to form at his crotch.

"Yes, Benedict. Safe. Safe. This is your safe place, where nothing can hurt you." The older dragon's voice continued softly. "And we are going to work here, together."

"Mmm... safe. Quentin..."

"That's right, safe. Always safe, here."

"Quentin... safe... Quentin... mmm..."

"Yes, Benedict. Safe with Quentin."

"Quentin. Safe."

"Yes."

"Quentin..."