The Headmaster's Dilemma by Louis Auchincloss

naked while administering this consolation?"
    "I never use pajamas, sir. I was bareass when Castor came in. Excuse the term, sir. It slipped out."
    Michael was not sure it had just slipped out, but he ignored this. "And did you hug the boy?" Caldwell nodded. "And do you maintain that nothing else happened after that?"
    "No, sir, I don't," he replied stoutly. "Castor went kind of crazy when I bent down over his bed to embrace him. He threw his arms around my neck. He reached down to grab my balls. He tried to kiss them. I'm sorry, sir, but I've got to be explicit. There's too much at stake for me in this. You have to see it as it was. I was aroused, yes. What man wouldn't be? I'm only human. I fucked the hell out of the kid. And did he love it!"
    Michael stared down at the blotter on his desk for a long moment. If it wasn't the whole truth, Caldwell at least was an able actor.
    "You've been frank with me, Caldwell. At least I hope you have. And I'll be frank with you. I do not regard consensual sexual acts between boys in the same lurid light that some teachers do. But I agree it is better for the young to abstain until they reach an age when they may have a more mature recognition of their basic sexual orientation, and for this reason nightly visitation in the dorms is strictly forbidden. Your taking advantage of a younger boy may be somewhat mitigated by his aggressive behavior, but you had no business being in his cubicle at all. If he really needed help, you should have gone to Mr. Smithers, and he could have taken the boy to the infirmary."
    "Oh, I plead guilty to that, sir!" Caldwell affirmed, almost with enthusiasm, as if snatching at a lesser penalty. "It was a gross violation of my duty as a prefect, and if you kick me out of your school, I can hardly complain!"
    Was this the smartest ploy of all? Michael sighed as he dismissed the culprit, telling him that his case would be duly considered. What he didn't quite like was the boy's insinuation that, after all, he and the headmaster were of the same breed of sophisticated men of the world who understood the imperative call of nature in such matters, for all their having to give lip service to the hypocritical priests of a supposedly Christian society. Had his school reforms given rise to the suspicions in boys like Caldwell that he had no morals at all?
    Very different was his interview with Elihu Castor. The boy was pale and visibly shaken. He listened, intently staring at his interlocutor while Michael delivered this gentle lecture.
    "Elihu, I want to start by telling you that there is nothing to be deeply ashamed about if you find yourself developing a strong affection for an older boy It is a perfectly natural thing, and I well remember when I was at Harrow in England feeling the greatest admiration for the captain of my house's cricket team. The mutual admiration of a young warrior and an older one was applauded in classical times. But these affections can sometimes be carried too far and result in physical relationships. This is not a good idea, for the higher-minded among us feel that love should not be coupled with sexual acts until a man has attained his full maturity and has a better knowledge of what he really needs. Do you get what I mean, Elihu?"
    "You mean that Bossy Caldwell should have waited to see what he really needs?"
    "Yes, in a way." Michael was a bit taken aback. "Both of you, for that matter. Caldwell is older, of course. He probably already is more attracted to girls than he is to boys like you."
    "You mean he was attracted to
me
?"
    "Well, wasn't he?"
    "He didn't act that way."
    "Is the idea so impossible?"
    Whatever the idea was, it suddenly seemed to intrigue the boy, for it actually appeared to distract him from the trouble he was in. Did he like to play with the concept that he, poor little thing that he was, had aroused something in the heart of the big brute of a prefect? A David subduing Goliath?
    "But he was always nasty to me," he