Teachers A Valkyrian Short by Persephone Teachers of the World: A Diary of Education by Misha Macmillan Chapter 27: Valkyria I thought I knew a lot about teachers. I thought I knew a lot about teaching. Then I met Inga Holfstadt, a teacher from the remote island nation of Valkyria, and I realized I still had a lot to learn. My journey had taken me to the island of Hervör Alvitr, which is part of an archipelago located somewhere halfway between the Faroe Islands and Iceland. (If you look on the map you won't find it, and you have to be taken there. Trust me, it's there.) When I first stepped out of the helicopter I thought someone was pulling my leg. First, it was a tropical climate... warm, sandy beaches, palm trees, bright sunshine, the temperature was about 82 with scattered clouds. Second, everybody -- and I mean everybody I saw, was completely naked. 100% nude. I thought I was on one of those privately owned Mediterranean resort islands. But no, my GPS said I was near the Arctic circle, in the Atlantic. So I gathered my bags and followed my guide -- a charming young naked man about 19, with a model-perfect body, chiseled good looks and a perpetual, almost disconcerting erection. After walking about a dozen paces he turned and looked at me. "What?" I asked. "You're... I'm sorry. I can't stop thinking you must be uncomfortable with so much clothes." "I'm... not from here. I don't think I'd be comfortable with your custom. It's okay. Lead on." The young man shrugged and continued jogging casually through town, until I noticed that, one, I was getting out of breath,  and two, people were staring. At me. "Wait," I gasped, "can we slow down? Is it much farther?" I was having trouble keeping up. "See, your clothes are slowing you down," he said easily, "and it's only about another eight miles." "Wait, you were going to jog for eight miles?!" "Um, yes? It's not a long way." I was going to say something more, but a beautiful young woman -- another resident of Valkyria who was young, beautiful, friendly and naked, were they all like this? --  tapped me on my shoulder. She was holding a horse by the reins in her other hand. "Can you ride? Take Barton." I thanked her profusely, tied my two bags onto Barton's saddle and mounted him. I noticed a peculiar ridge in the saddle leather that would make riding interesting, but off we went. My naked guide jogged easily ahead and Barton kept pace. We jogged easily through idyllic countryside, going passed several other naked people, some of whom were actively fucking on the side of the road. Eventually we arrived at a secluded, rustic looking village. The ride had made me more breathless than I realized; I had trouble dismounting and my guide casually observed that my shorts were soaked -- it looked as if I had peed myself, but I knew it was from that funny ridge... "See, clothing causes embarrasing situations," he said matter-of-factly while I ducked behind a building to change my shorts. "Follow me, miss," he said, "I'll introduce you to Mother Inga. She was my teacher." We entered the village, where a couple of naked children cavorted under a tree. I noticed that I hadn't seen any children until this little village. "Mother Inga!" my guide called out, waving. A young woman - naked, of course - looked up and waved back. This was his mother?! "Tyran!" she exclaimed, and dashed over. She greeted him with a kiss, as intimate as lovers, and casually stroked his cock, in full view of everyone, the children and me. The kids, I noticed, didn't seem to care. "Mother Inga, this lady is a visitor, interviewing teachers of the world. I told her I'd show her to my finest teacher." "I was your only teacher, Tyran, since you were born." Mother Inga stood and faced me with a smile. She extended her right hand, palm up, a little unsurely. "Welcome! I am Mother Inga. I know you do something with the hand..." I shook it, showing her how. "Oh! Thank you. Here, our greeting is usually to kiss and maybe fuck. You must get out of the clothes, are you not too hot?" "I... no, this is normal for me. Us." "Where is home, for you?" Mother Inga asked. "United States. University of Maryland." "Look children!" she called out, and a handful of naked kids ages about five to twelve gathered around. "Look, what she covers with is called 'clothes'. Like our Lawmother but all over. That's how they do in University of Mary-land." One of the young girls walked up and, without any warning, slid a hand up the leg and into my shorts. She touched my panties and slid her hand out again. "That's silly," she exclaimed, with the universal five-year-old voice of authority. "So tell me, miss..." "Misha Macmillan" "Miss-Misha-Macmillan, what would you like to know?" "Well, I'm interviewing teachers of the world, and a friend recommended Valkyria. I had never even heard of it before, and I'm... intrigued." Inga clapped her hands and called to another adult, and the kids gathered around eagerly. "Mother Fylgja will teach you for the rest of the day. I must talk to Miss-Misha-Macmillan." "Oh, it's just Misha. Short for Michelle." "Misha, I like it. What would you like to know?" "I....wow, where to begin. You're the teacher? Do you teach all ages, all subjects? History, science, math? Geography? Who authorizes tests? How long have you been teaching? You look...not that old, but Tyran said you taught him?" Mother Inga laughed, a clear laugh like chimes over running water. "Inga is my name. Mother is my title. I am mother to all these children. They live with me in the Lodge until they are of sixteen years, then they are adults. I teach them everything, and do my best to raise them." "How long have you been a teacher? Where did you intern? What college..." "No, Misha, you don't understand of Valkyria. Is not like your Maryland. I have been teacher for... well, easy to say I am older than I look to you." "Oh? How old are you, if I may ask?" "Six hundred and twenty two, in your years...oh, did you hurt? Let me help you up. On Valkyria we do not age. I am six hundred years old. I can teach of history because I see it, and I remember. I am trained by Mother Gretna, who is older than me." "I, ummm... what subjects do you teach? Where are the textbooks?" "I teach all subjects. And we have no books. I talk, the childer listen, they remember. I teach of history, language, sport, sex, money, building, carpentry, health... whatever they need. Sometimes I teach adults. Is fun." "Wh... sex? How do you teach sex?" "You ask funny question, Misha of Maryland. Tell to me. If you wanted to teach how to bring your wife to orgasm, how would you teach? Show me." "Well, I suppose I'd, um... explain about the vagina and the clitoris, and..." I foundered, struggling for words. "Hush, your talking is silly. Is not explaining, is understanding. Is easier to learn by doing. I just take..." Now it was Inga's turn to be confused. "Well I could show you touching, kissing, and orgasm, but you have... so much!" She spread her hands out to show my abundance of textile interference. "Is easier if you are naked, no?" she said simply. "I get your point, sure," I said, "but I'm straight, and... I'm keeping my clothes on, sorry." "Straight?" Inga asked, "like a... no, even trees bend to answer the wind." She cocked her head sideways and studied me curiously. "I think today, Misha of University of Maryland, is you who is teacher. Show to me 'straight'?" I considered my words carefully. "Where I come from, most people only fall in love with, or have sex with, the opposite gender. Men only have sex with women. That is 'straight'. If you love the same sex, you are Gay, for men, or Lesbian for women. If you are both, you are bisexual." Ing sat back for a moment, looking at the ceiling. "Okay, I think I see." She went to a row of wooden boxes on one wall, scooped up two handfuls of pebbles and came back. She dumped the pebbles on the ground and sorted them into black and white. "Is men and women, yes? Misha," -- she picked up a white pebble and held it with emphasis -- "is Misha. And here, all men and women of village, yes? But Misha, only see to the men." Mother Inga scooped the other white pebbles off to one side. "So Misha is only see half the village." She grabbed my hand with a look of dire concern on her smooth face. "Oh no, Misha of Maryland!! Is too sad! You miss half the, the spirit!" She mixed all the pebbles up again. "In Valkyria, Inga is..." again, one white pebble for emphasis. "And the village, many people. Man, woman, is good. Is spirit. Is love. Inga love all the village, not ignore half. Oh, sad for Misha. I don't like for 'straight'.  No, no." "Well I think we do that because you get married and have a baby..." "I have so many babies," Inga said, "all the village call me Mother." "Right, but... how many kids do you... no, I mean you had... no. How many times have you been pregnant?" "Oh! Oh, not even one. I never hear the call." "You know, I think we're getting off topic here," Misha said. She stood up and stretched. "When do the kids go home? Like for holiday? Vacation?" "The Lodge is home, and school, and house, until they are sixteen. I keep them safe." "Safe from..." I asked, and Inga paused, thinking. "Safe is maybe wrong word. Safe used to be a thing to worry. No, they live here until sixteen because... is tradition. Me to teach. Is tradition." "What happened when they needed to be safe?" I asked. "Sometimes, war comes to Valkyria. From over the sea. We never go to war, but if war comes here, we answer. And adults, we all fight but the kids, so young? In the Lodge. Safe. We give them tomorrow, next day. When they are old enough, maybe fight. So is tradition, our children are in the Lodge until sixteen. Learn everything from me." "How often has war come here?" "As matters? Six, seven times. When we began Valkyria, first came, I was not yet born. We... wait, I give you short history of Valkyria. We are, were, lost from a fleet. Three boats of women, loyal to Freyja. We sail with ships to a new land, but we lost in storm, the islands save us. Land here. We learn to live, to love, and the islands keep us alive. We grow strong, the water and air, heal us. Mother Gretna teach of men in dragonships, come to raid, to force sex. Rape. We learn to defend Valkyria. We keep our paradise." "Men who come to hurt, men of evil, they grow sick, they leave," Mother Inga continued. "Valkyria protects people of love, of peace. Women of love, Freyja give us this land." She paused a moment, thinking. "Sometimes men come, people come, to claim the land. Steal us, hurt us. They try, they always lose. The land, She always protect us. The men come, bring war, bring -- what is the word, opp... oppression. I do not like this word. Men bring oppression, hate, war, always the land send them back. Never have we been defeated. Never." Mother Inga stood up and stretched, and sat down. A very young girl, barely more two, padded over and motioned to clamber into Inga's lap. She helped the child up, who was soon happily suckling from Inga's breast. "Oh, I'm glad to see... though I can't imagine it would be a problem here... that you breast feed." "Let me guess," Inga said, "because of so much clothes, you can't feed a baby?" "What? Oh, no, but some places have laws that you can't breast feed in public." Inga stopped and looked at me for a long time, her face blank. "In Mary-land is law that you cannot feed baby? Misha, that place is not safe, you must leave! Come, we will let you live here." "No, Inga, it's okay," I said quickly, "so a long time ago, three ships of women crashed on this island, right? and you found that the island... somehow...defends women, and that you live a long time. A very long time, wow. Now... before we get back to talking about education, which is the whole reason I came here... why is everybody naked?!" "Freedom. And honesty," Inga replied. "We are naked because naked is free. And natural. And honest. We hide nothing. We are pure." "Wow, I can't argue with that," I conceded. "And the kids, who are their parents? How involved are they in the kids' education?" "Who is a parent to who? It does not matter. Is Torval over there, Sven's son, or Klaus? All the village raise him. All the village love him. He is son of us all. We all help. I am teacher, I am Mother Inga, but we all help." "And so a kid lives in this Lodge until he is sixteen, then he is an adult, right? That seems kind of isolated...?" "He lives in the Lodge, where he is safe as a child. But all Valkyria come to the Lodge! Visitors here ask, 'where are the children, I see no children?' but they don't see that the children don't need to go to Valkyria because all Valkyria come to the children." I paused and looked at the young girl, still firmly affixed to Inga's nipple, apparently asleep. "She's been there a long time... doesn't it get sore?" "Haha, no she is helping me. We Valkyrian women, there's a reason we are called 'milk spouse'. Watch." She carefully pried the girl loose and handed her to me, then casually palmed her own breast. And milk flowed, gushed, sprayed from her nipple, a cresting spray that easily arched two feet. With her torso drenched in milk, Inga smiled at my open-mouthed astonishment. "We have no need of cattle. All women make so much...we are milk-spouse." "That is... incredible." "Oh, wait," Inga said with a mischevious grin, "I have another." She briefly left the room, and came back in with a naked thirteen year old boy. He was quite healthy, and more endowed than any boy his age I could imagine. "Tannor, can you show Miss Misha your new trick?" Inga knelt down and whispered something in the boy's ear, to which he laughed and nodded. With the playful enthusiasm of teenage boys everywhere he started masturbating. I realized I didn't know where to look, and suddenly had to check for something in one of my bags. Inga said, "Misha, look..." and I looked up just as Tannor ejaculated, a seemingly endless stream of semen that flowed out of him for a good ten seconds. His aim was immaculate - he covered my blouse, shorts legs and shoes in thick, white cream. I jumped up, horrified, but Inga and the boy were rolling on the floor laughing. "Ohh, I'm sorry Misha, that was mean. Now let me help you out of your dirty clothes. You can wash in the bay." "How...how can he produce so much?!!" I said as I relucantly started undressing. "He's young. Boys have so, so much. Older men, not even half that." "Inga, this has indeed been... informative. I don't know what to say." "Miss Misha of Mary-land, I have learned a lot also. Thank you!" Back to The New Valkyria