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Day 2 – Relativity
6. Special Theory of Relativity
I kept thinking about the previous days class with Mr. Jefferson as I rummage through my locker looking for my two digital cameras. "He has the most amazing little man. Its energy is unlike anything I've seen. I wonder where all the vigor comes from?" Toronto has never been more interesting I grin to myself.
Miss Kali's voice penetrates my fog with "Girls, please make sure Mr. Jefferson is ready for his 9:00 class. Will you help him get ready? Thank you."
My friend Janice grins, "What do you think Laura, shall we go help Mr. Jefferson?"
"Sure Janice", I reply, "Bet he knows better than to look at my bum this time." We wander down to Mr. Jefferson's room and enter. There lay a sleeping Mr. Jefferson with his little man tied straight up to the ceiling. We could hear him talking in his sleep. We creep to each side of his little man.
"Yes, I accept this Nobel prize for my work on negative energy. This is a great day for me." Boy, Walter Mitty has nothing on this guy. Unable to resist, I wet my finger and softly ran it down the little mans' front. I see a shiver of excitement pulse through the little man. Mr. Jefferson's mutterings increase a pitch with "I believe this breakthrough will allow us to defy gravity." The little man certainly looks like he is defying gravity. Janice wets her finger and starts stroking the little mans' back. In no time flat we were dealing with a fat little man. Mr. Jefferson's voice trembles "This discovery will allow man to explore the galaxy." Hmmm, no mention of women I irritably noted. The little man tries to rock up and down but the string holds him fast. Mr. Jefferson's voice, tinged with frustration, says, "and the technology improvements mean we wouldn't need women anymore." I couldn't help myself. How dare this sexist pig think he can automate females away. I spank his little man hard. With the string holding him fast, he had nowhere to run. All the energy of the blow turns him pink. Mr. Jefferson's Nobel Prize evaporates as he wakes with a scream, "AAAghhhhhhhhhh". Spying us, his face turns a delightful red an he sputters, "Laura, Janice, you shouldn't be in here. This is most improper."
A thrill of excitement rush between my legs as I savor his humiliation. Kneeling, I take his face in my hands, "Don't worry Mr. Jefferson. Miss Kali asked us to give you a hand getting ready for your classes." It was lovely, the way he lowers his eyes, and refuses to look at me. "Mr. Jefferson, there is no reason to be shy. Janice and I are grown girls. Now look at me please." Janice resumes stroking the fat little man. Mr. Jefferson cringes, reddens some more and closes his eyes. "Mr. Jefferson, I expect you to respect my requests." I stand, eye the fat little target and slap him as hard as I can. Mr. Jefferson almost dislocates his pokey on a string. Kneeling, I take back his face. His eyes, tears streaming, open, and regard me with fear. "That's better Mr. Jefferson", I cooed. God, this was fantastic. Making a grown man cry. "Now, let's get you shaved."
Thinking release, hope jumps into his eyes. I dash that quickly enough with "Janice, get his shaving materials and some cold water. We can shave him right here".
"No, please let me up", he begs me. Annoyed, I grab the string and with a yank, ask, "What did you say to me, Mr. Jefferson?" The fat little man becomes a long skinny man.
He tensely agrees, "Yes Laura, please shave me here." I relax the string and apply water and soap to his face. "Now don't move Mr. Jefferson, we don't want any accidents." I take the razor and remove the stubble until the nice clean face of a young man emerges. I softly run my hands all over his face. He averts his eyes. I pull the string. His eyes drown in mine again.
Janice, caressing the fat little man says, "Looks like this needs a shave too Laura." Janice gives the little man's bush a sharp tug. "Mr. Jefferson seems to have neglected this area for months."
Mr. Jefferson's eyes widen with dismay, "No, you can't, that's part of being a man. It's natural."
This sexist pig clearly hasn't got it yet. I stand and start to spank the fat man. The power I feel inside me is exhilarating. Mr. Jefferson starts to cry but I don't care. I can't stop. Nipples hardening, I can feel my pussy juicing as I spank him bright red. Janice takes my arm and whispers, "Easy girl, we don't want him to faint."
I move to his head and when his eyes lock back onto mine, I smear his gorgeous rolling tears and tut, "Did you want to rephrase what you just said, Mr. Jefferson?"
My physics teacher quivers "Please shave me down there Laura". His legs tightly press together, absurdly trying to protect his bush.
Stroking his clean-shaven face I murmur "Of course, Mr. Jefferson, Janice and I will make you nice and clean down there. Now if you can just move your legs apart to give us some working space, we can clean up that nasty mess." It was obviously the last thing in the world he wanted to do. I found it delightful watching him reluctantly separating his legs a tiny bit. "It will have to be much more than that Mr. Jefferson. Perhaps you want to feel the palm of my hand again?" Now even his chest starts blushing. He widely splays his legs. "Good boy Mr. Jefferson, good boy." God, his eyes look happier when I praise him. This dominating stuff is a real buzz. Janice starts to soap his balls and bush. I straddle my physics teacher's chest, razor in hand. The little man suddenly gets a lot fatter. I look back and see Mr. Jefferson's eyes glued on my bottom. I can't believe where he is looking. Angrily I slap that rascally fat little man. "Don't you dare look at my bottom, Mr. Jefferson." I slap the fat man one more time. "Down boy" I hiss. Mr. Jefferson closes his eyes, the fat man loses weight and I inspect the soapy battlefield. Janice has done a good job. His balls look like they are having a lovely bubble bath. I position the razor and carefully begin to scrape around the edges. "Can you lift his balls for me Janice?" Janice takes the heavy testicles and covers the little man. I scrape and scrape until I've given my physics teacher that little boy look. "Hmmm, there is hair sticking out of his balls, how gross. Not sure how we can use the razor on such a wrinkly field." I take one of his wiry hairs and yank it out. Mr. Jefferson writhes and pulls up his knees to cover his balls. I grab them from Janice and start to give them a good squeeze. I notice marbles running around in them and give them special attention. "I can keep this up all day Mr. Jefferson. Put down your knees when you're ready", I clinically observe. His knees slide down slowly. Taking one testicle at a time, I methodically rip out each and every hair. His muffled groans were music to my ears. "Wipe him Janice. Let's see how we've done." Janice towels him dry and I brush virgin territory with my fingertips. "Look how sensitive he is now. The blood rises wherever my finger touches", I show Janice. She joins me and we tickle the cleaned area until the fat man is back. I untie the noose from the fat man letting the shoelace dangle from the ceiling. "There you go Mr. Jefferson, all done. You look great."
He gets up warily, hands still tied behind his back, and looks down. My clitoris pulses with the horror on his face. "Are you thirsty Mr. Jefferson?" He nods his head and Janice fetches a pitcher of water and a glass. I ignore the glass, pinch his nose, and pour the water down his throat. He gulps protests but I make sure he drinks the whole pitcher. I laugh with Janice as we watch him squeeze his legs together. The thighs do their best to contain the beginning of a pee pride. His urgency to go increases. His pokey is fully erect.
I take his pokey, crank it down 180 degrees, and shove it painfully into the now empty pitcher. "Looks like you want to put the water back, Mr. Jefferson. Please, feel free." His anguished look made me feels complete. Nipples like diamonds, I stare into his eyes, "No rush Mr. Jefferson, we still have to brush your teeth." I turn on the water, set up the toothbrush and tap back to a physics teacher desperately trying to hold his stream. "Open up", I gaily say and start to brush his teeth. We listen to the running water. He grunts with heroic effort. Its no use, more running water sounds fill the room. The pitcher starts to fill; Mr. Jefferson cowers in indignity. Curious, I grasp the floodgates. The current is amazingly strong. My physics teacher is beside himself. "Look me in the eyes, Mr. Jefferson. I'm not going to tell you again" I warn with a firm pokey squeeze. His deploring eyes struggle to meet mine but can't tear themselves away from watching my fireman hand hosing down the pitcher. I can't believe he doesn't obey me. I harshly turn off his tap. His pleading eyes rivet onto mine. I turn the tap back on watching his pupils dilate wider and wider. I turn the tap off and on in tempo to my throbbing insides. The dam feels like it's emptying right into my pussy. Shaking the drops off, I pass the little man to Janice's towel. "All done Mr. Jefferson? Good, teaching time, we need to cover you up for the Grade 9 class. Especially since you've lost all your natural cover." I look around the room and seeing nothing rummage through my purse. Rats, don't have anything except two digital cameras. But they are long enough to cover everything except the little mans' head. Close enough I figure, Miss Kali wouldn't mind a small exposure. I wrap the holders around the camera sandwich. The cameras' unblinking eyes surround the little mans' slanted eye. Janice and I each take an arm and escort him from the room. Curious corridor pupils watch Mr. Jefferson's three upright eyes and two downcast eyes as we lead him to his Grade 9 class.
Lettie nudges me, "Sophie, Mr. Jefferson seems to be taking his time. Think he's learned his lesson and will be nicer to us this class?"
Knowing full well she thought our physics teacher favored her over me, I replied, "I fully intend to make sure he doesn't forget his manners." Turning my head I see a most unbelievable sight. Mr. Jefferson shaved like a little boy wearing only two cameras in his "I'm not allowed to see" location.
I watch as two girls from the senior class deposit him at the front of the class. The Toronto lady reinforces a school rule, "Remember girls, you must make sure he stays covered." We all promise and the seniors leave
"Hey Mr. Jefferson" I move forward just beating Lettie to him, "What are you teaching us today?" He was obviously struggling with his composure so I try and calm him down with an "Easy Mr. Jefferson, we're your Grade 9 class. We're all your friends." I couldn't stop myself. I start to feel his smooth shave. Stroking him softly I whisper, "You better start the class, or the girls will wonder if you're really a teacher". Lettie starts to stroke beside the other camera. Marvelously, the cameras start to rise.
Mr. Jefferson flashes out of his dream world and angrily responds "Am I a Teacher? Am I a Teacher?, Girls, settle down, today I'm going to teach you something incredible. Relativity has changed the whole way we view the world." Lettie and I keep clawing shaved flesh encouragingly, as Mr. Jefferson winds up in more ways than one. This is making me hot. Mr. Jefferson, back in charge, pompously states, "Einstein's first postulate is;"
The laws of physics are the same in all reference frames
Mr. Jefferson looks around hoping that a glimmer of light shows on at least one girls face. He sighs, obviously thinking we're not very bright, and elucidates, "So no matter what the uniform speed of a state is, the laws of physics will be the same within that state even though they can look different outside of that state.
It slowly starts to dawn on me what he is talking about when bloody Lettie interjects, "So if one dropped a load standing still it would go straight down. Likewise if one dropped a load when in motion, to the state in motion it would still look like it is going straight down even though so someone outside the state it would curve down."
"Brilliant Lettie", my disloyal teacher praises her, "That's exactly the implication. Now can you prove that a dropped load will look like it goes straight down to a person in motion?"
The penny drops, I understand the first postulate and even better know how to prove it. "I can prove it Mr. Jefferson", I cry smugly looking at an annoyed Lettie from the corner of my eye. "Lettie, turn over a round table with an inkpot holder. Girls get the four chains holding up the plant pots at the back of the class. Attach one end to the swivel hook up on the ceiling and the other to one of the table legs." Everyone swings into action with a confused Mr. Jefferson watching an upside-down table being hoisted until level with his chest. "Hop on Mr. Jefferson, you look tired. I promise you that you wouldn't have to do a thing." He hesitates. Lettie and I push the cameras together. Mr. Jefferson lies on the table and we thread his Photoshop through the inkpot hole at the side of the desk. Flush with confidence, I detail the experiment. "If we can get this little man to drop a load while he is in a state of motion, we will see the load drop as a curve but the cameras on the little man should show the load dropping straight down."
Lettie, forever the spoiler, demurs, "I see how we are going to get the little man in motion. I see we can set the cameras to take continuous pictures. But I don't see how we can get the little man to drop a load."
Shit, I forgot about that problem. Facing failure, I start to instruct the girls to let the table and Mr. Jefferson down when Gweurfel, a red headed Welsh lass saves the day. "All we need to do is stimulate the little mans head while he is in a state of motion. If we can stimulate him enough, he should drop his load. Girls, take off your nylons and make a circle whose radius is equal to the length between the center of the desk and the little mans head."
Sixteen pairs of crisscrossed nylons were soon stretched into an almost perfect circle with the little man's head, poking out of his camera clothes, snugly resting at 12 o'clock.
"Perfect Gweurfel. I turn the cameras on. Ok, one girl per leg and arm, its time to do a maypole dance." At this point Mr. Jefferson realizes what's up and struggles to rise. I and three other girls extend his appendages over the kneeling nylon-holding girls. His bum flattens, his pokey completely thrusts through the hole. We start to walk in a circle, swivel hook turning, the little mans' head sliding smoothly on his nylon Hula Hoop. The digital cameras click furiously. The little man grows longer so the girls drop the Hula Hoop down an inch. We start to walk faster. Mr. Jefferson's big and little heads get brighter. We start to run. His heads turn red. The Hula Hoop goes down another inch. I start to worry, still nothing dropping. I desperately cry, "OK girls, run as fast as you can. We speed up faster and faster. His heads turn purple with dizziness and nylon chafing. Just when we thought we could run no faster, the miracle happens. A milky explosion makes a perfect circle on the floor. We stop and catch our breath. Mr. Jefferson's heads retreat within themselves. "Well done girls, now let's find out if the first postulate is correct. Clearly we saw his load drop in a perfect curve." The girls, all staring at the faultless circle of white, concur.
I hook up two PCs to the external ports on the cameras and load all the pictures. We start the machines flipping the pictures on both monitors. The tension was palpable. This better work or I'll never hear the end of it from Lettie. The cameras show the little man getting a swelled head with a spinning floor underneath. His head gets bigger and bigger and then it bursts. We all watch in awe seeing the milk fall down in a straight line. The first postulate is proved!
My chest puffs up as my cheering classmates, Lettie excluded, hoist me into the air. In triumph I raise my fists in the air and shout "Relativity is true, Mr. Jefferson, you are brilliant."
Mr. Jefferson, though dizzy, smiles wanly at the flattery but cautions, "That was only the first postulate Sophia, we haven't proven special relativity yet. The second postulate states:"
T he speed of light through a vacuum is constant as observed by any observer, moving or statio nary
I hear Gweurfel say, "Mr. Jefferson, that sounds impossible. That's saying that if there is a moving skier and a stationary skier watching a light avalanche come towards them, they will both be buried at the same time."
I pick up on her thread, "So the only way that it could be the same time for both skiers, since the distance the light avalanche has to go is further for the moving skier, is if time slows down for the moving skier."
Lettie follows up with, "So the faster a state moves, the more a clock in that state slows down
Looking very pleased with Lettie, Mr. Jefferson expands, "Yes, and if a state moves at the speed of light, time stops all together."
Excitingly I say, "So if we repeat the last experiment and move the little man very fast, then the cameras attached to the little man will think he has dropped his load after a stationary camera thinks he has."
"Girls, I think we've had enough experiments for the day", Mr. Jefferson commences to say.
I hate it when we've figured out an experiment and some uptight adult wouldn't let us perform it. It's even worse when it's your own physics teacher. "Mr. Jefferson, we really need to see if this is true. Now be a helpful chap and behave." With that I stuff his mouth with chalk. Over his dry muffled protests, I instruct, "Reset the nylon Hula Hoop and fold his appendages onto the table. We're going to really have to get the table spinning to prove the second postulate."
The girls hogtie his feet and arms behind him. No little man's head pokes out between the cameras. Oh where, oh where, has the little man gone? Damn, what a time for Mr. Jefferson to shrivel up on me. Then I remember Miss Pringles control system. I walk behind him and ogle the one-inch target. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I spear two fingers into the bull's-eye as fast and as hard as I can. I almost break my fingers to the sound of spitting chalk. I feel his bum tighten delightfully around my fingers. I savor his squeezing pulses, pleased that he is caressing me. Time to get the show on the road, I remind myself, this is no time to be indolent. With that, I ferociously saw back and forth with all the heartiness I can muster.
The Welsh girl exclaims, "I can see half the head now, keep it up". I add a finger, hear a yelp, and carry on with total determination. "It's come out to play now. You're astounding Sophia", Gweurfel praises. The girls position the nylon Hula Hoop accordingly.
I pull my fingers out with a loud pop and take my position around the table. We simultaneously turn on the little man's and Letties' cameras. Four girls above the kneeling sixteen girls spin the table hand over hand. The table whirls so fast that I can see Mr. Jefferson's chalky face once per second. The little mans' head is moving around the nylon circle so swiftly I can hear it screech. At two chalks per second, his pokey head is purple. At three, green. Beautiful color I think, hands shuffling faster than a deck of cards. At ten chalks per second, cameras snapping like mad, glorious pasty spurts second-coat the circle on the floor.
We load the camera images to three PCs, turn out the lights and make sure that the first frame of all three videos start exactly at the same time. Once again, we watch the little mans' head swell up against a kaleidoscope swirling floor. The stationary camera shows the explosion and a split second later the cameras in motion show the same explosion. The moving camera's time was slower. Time does move slower when a state is moving quickly. I can't believe this is true. But the evidence is right in front of my eyes. I take the chalk out of Mr. Jefferson's mouth and take pleasure in the way he starts to automatically clean my fetid fingers. I wonder where he got that reflex.
.
We help an overcome Mr. Jefferson down from his tabular frame of reference. I gush, "Mr. Jefferson, you have taught us something today we will remember for the rest of our lives." You are an tremendous teacher."
Mr. Jefferson seems at a loss for words and then remembers his job. He pulls himself together and says,
T he net result of these two postulates mean that as one approaches the speed of light, mass increases and size decreases to an outside observer
Gweurfel finds the frames just before pokey denotation. They count the pixels. They stare at each other. The little man is smaller and fatter on the stationary camera.
"Awesome", I exalt, "it's a perfect example of getting more for less". My box drips understanding the implication of making out with a light speed little man. The bell rings as Miss Pringle comes in to take charge of Mr. Jefferson. I can't wait for tomorrow's class.
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