As the year passed my studies went well. Sometimes I wound up being punished which meant standing in the front corner of the classroom with Miss Murphy to one side, sitting behind her desk. During these punishments I listened to students take turns reading and watched her listen and teach. She half-faced in my direction while she taught, like she didn’t want to leave me out. And she twirled her feet and re-crossed her legs and rubbed them against each other with an exciting sound. Or, with her hands she smoothed her stockings or pulled out a desk drawer to rest one foot on it with the other foot on the floor. Hidden from the rest of the class behind her desk, I began to see more and more shadowy space between Miss Murphy’s legs, like she didn’t care about me seeing inside. Her stockings stopped above her knees and there showed her creamy white thighs. She glanced at me now and then, but not to stop me looking because she didn’t change. Perhaps she glanced at me to make sure I was looking.

        Once, my dickie got so hard it stood straight up which I did not understand the connection to, and I had to stay facing into the corner for a long, long time until it went away. She didn’t send me back to my seat either, so she knew something happened to me. That was the last punishment Miss Murphy gave me. At the end of the year she even wore a mini-skirt but the Mother Superior yelled at her and she had to change back to her usual again. The Mother Superior also said things that made her cry, and I felt sad for Miss Murphy, I wanted to kiss her like I kissed my mother to make her feel better. But I was mad, too, because I wouldn’t be able to see more of Miss Murphy’s legs.