On Monday morning, Teacher Wang walked into the classroom wearing a fitted white blouse and a tight-fitting short skirt. The blouse buttons were undone just below the collarbone, faintly revealing the edge of her bra. She habitually looked up at the blackboard, ready to start the day's lesson.
On the blackboard, right in the center, a word was written in very small chalk letters:
penis
Teacher Wang's face instantly flushed red. That word was like a fine needle, piercing directly into the most sensitive part of her mind. She turned around sharply, her gaze sweeping sharply over the more than thirty boys in the class. But everyone sat upright, their expressions unnervingly calm. Only a few pairs of eyes wandered back and forth between her chest and thighs.
She bit her lower lip and walked quickly onto the podium, picking up the blackboard eraser. Her movements were a little rough as she erased, the eraser rubbing back and forth over those two syllables, making a faint rustling sound. She could feel someone behind her staring at the curve of her hips, staring at her waist, which was slightly taut from exertion.
After wiping it clean, she forced herself to calm down and start the lecture. But she was absent-minded throughout the entire class. Whenever she looked down, it was as if she could still see the afterimage of that erased word, like something that hadn't fully softened yet, stubbornly lingering in her sight.
On Tuesday, she deliberately arrived at the classroom ten minutes early.
In the same spot on the blackboard, 'penis' appeared again, the font larger than yesterday's, the strokes thicker and more forceful.
Teacher Wang was clearly more flustered this time. She stood at the doorway staring at that word for several seconds, uncontrollable images surfacing in her mind. She took a deep breath, walked in, and once again turned to scrutinize the class. The students remained composed, but the Adam's apples of a few boys noticeably bobbed.
She walked up to the podium and picked up the blackboard eraser. This time, she erased more slowly and carefully. The eraser rubbed repeatedly over the two syllables of 'penis,' as if performing some highly suggestive gesture. She could feel her breathing becoming slightly erratic, her ears growing hot. By the end, she even unconsciously wiped a few extra times until that section of the blackboard gleamed.
An extremely faint sound of inhalation came from behind.
Wednesday, Thursday... the situation became more excessive day by day.
Every day, the word 'penis' is written bigger, thicker, and more eye-catching than the day before. From the initial tiny handwriting, it slowly grew to palm-sized, then to an exaggerated existence half the size of the blackboard. Teacher Wang had to 'serve' that word over and over again with the blackboard eraser in front of the whole class every day.
She began to notice her own physical reactions. Each time she picked up the blackboard eraser, her fingers trembled slightly; while erasing, the inside of her thighs under her short skirt would unconsciously tighten; after finishing and turning around, she could feel a dampness slowly seeping out. The students' gazes also grew increasingly undisguised, some deliberately sitting with their legs spread, others lowering their heads while secretly adjusting their crotches.
Teacher Wang knew she had fallen into a trap, yet she couldn't stop. The harder she wiped, the more that word seemed to truly grow larger and harder in her hand.
Finally, it's Friday.
Teacher Wang specifically wore more concealing clothes today, but she still felt extremely guilty. She pushed open the classroom door, already mentally prepared to clean again.
On the blackboard, in the same spot, 'penis' had disappeared.
Instead, there was a line of text written very large and neatly:
“This thing is like that: the more you rub it, the bigger and harder it gets...
Teacher, you've been rubbing it very diligently these past few days; it's already hard and aching.'
Teacher Wang froze completely in the doorway.
The classroom was first dead silent, then erupted into suppressed, extreme roaring laughter. Some laughed until tears streamed down their faces, some bent over clutching their crotches, and others adjusted their obviously bulging areas right in front of her.
Teacher Wang's face turned from red to deep crimson. She could feel her heart pounding wildly, and her lower body was a complete mess. The lesson plan in her hand fell to the floor. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
She eventually walked to the blackboard and picked up the eraser. This time, she erased particularly slowly and forcefully, as if performing a forced ritual. As the eraser rubbed back and forth over the words, the entire class was so quiet you could hear breathing.
After wiping it clean, she turned around, her voice trembling but trying to stay calm:
“Today... class.”
But her legs were trembling, and the view beneath her short skirt was nearly exposed to the students sitting in the front row.
From that day on, this story of 'the more you wipe it, the bigger and harder it gets' became the dirtiest legend in the school. Every new class of freshmen would be told one version or another of it by upperclassmen. And afterward, Teacher Wang never dared to enter an empty classroom early again; every time before class, she had to first make sure the blackboard was spotless before daring to turn around and face that group of bright-eyed boys.
Once she was grading papers in the office and heard someone next door say in a low voice:
“Teacher Wang wiping the blackboard really looks like...”
The words behind were swallowed by laughter.
Teacher Wang sat there, her legs unconsciously tightening, her ears burning red again.
She knew that once something was written on the blackboard, it could never be wiped clean again.
And the process of her personally rubbing it larger and harder over these past few days had been forever etched in the filthiest corners of every boy's mind in the class.
After those words were completely erased, Teacher Wang thought the matter could finally be put to rest. But she soon discovered she was wrong.
From that day on, the way all the boys in class looked at her completely changed. Before, at most they would occasionally stare at her chest or take an extra look at her legs, but now it had turned into a tacit, leering gaze tinged with amusement. Every time she turned around to write on the blackboard, she could feel dozens of eyes fall on her buttocks and lower back, as if savoring the motion she had repeatedly wiped away these past few days.
What's even more critical is that she herself began to lose control.
As soon as she picked up the blackboard eraser, her fingers would automatically remember the sensations of those days—the fine chalk dust, the slight resistance of the blackboard surface, and a certain secret pleasure as she erased harder and harder. Sometimes, halfway through a lecture, she would suddenly freeze, the thought flashing through her mind: “The more you rub it, the bigger and harder it gets,” and then her lower body would involuntarily clench, seeping out a little warm wetness.
The boys obviously noticed her abnormality.
Once she was looking down for her lesson plan on the podium when a usually quiet boy in the front row suddenly whispered something, causing a few nearby to stifle laughter. When Teacher Wang looked up, she met his eyes. He didn't look away; instead, he slowly adjusted himself under the desk, deliberately making the movement slow, as if reminding her: Teacher, we all remember.
Teacher Wang's ears instantly burned, but she could only force herself to remain calm and continue the lesson. After class, she almost fled back to her office. Only after closing the door did she realize a small patch of her underwear was already wet.
She began deliberately dressing more conservatively: buttoning her shirt all the way to the top button and changing her skirt to a style that fell below the knee. But the more she did that, the more excessive the boys’ jokes became. Some would deliberately place their homework papers very low when handing them in, forcing her to bend over; some would whisper that phrase “the more you rub it, the bigger it gets” when she passed by; and some even used very faint chalk dust along the edge of the blackboard to vaguely write half of a “P,” specifically waiting for her to notice.
Teacher Wang would angrily erase it every time, yet during the wiping process, she couldn't help but recall the sensations of those days. The feel of the eraser rubbing against her palm gradually overlapped with a more intimate motion. She found herself sometimes wiping a few extra strokes, her movements so slow they seemed less like cleaning and more like... soothing.
One night, she had an extremely vivid dream.
In the dream, she stands on the podium again, facing that glaring line of text. Holding an eraser, she wipes it, stroke after stroke, harder and harder. The words on the blackboard not only don't disappear, but actually begin to swell, harden, and finally transform into a burning, solid object, standing erect in her hand. She wants to stop, but her hand won't obey, and she can only continue wiping, continue kneading, until her legs grow so weak she can barely stand...
She was awakened by her own moans.
When she woke up, the blanket was already tangled around her waist, and her fingers were still resting in a very wet, very hot place. She stared at the ceiling, her face flushed red almost to the point of dripping blood.
The next day when entering the classroom, her steps were a bit slower than usual. The boys seemed to sense something, their gazes more blatant. Someone even deliberately moved their chair wider when she was writing on the blackboard, letting her peripheral vision see those slightly raised outlines.
Teacher Wang knew she had been completely dragged into this vulgar game.
The more she tried to forget, the more honest her body became; the harder she scrubbed to erase those marks, the more deeply they were etched into the minds of all the boys in the class, and into the corner of her own mind she least wanted to acknowledge.
Some things, once repeatedly rubbed, will never shrink again.
And she had become the one who personally rubbed it larger.
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