Chapter 32: Psychological Damage

After about a quarter hour, people from the younger group decided to go swimming and soon they organized a chicken fight with the gals riding the guys’ shoulders. No one was surprised that the team with Terence always seemed to be the winner. The guy was like a rock and didn’t budge an inch even when another team crashed into him. Soon they tired of the playing and decided to talk about a few of the topics that had come up during the pool play.

So Tamara, Peter, Barbara, Terence, Ryan, and Abi dried themselves and decided to go off to a gazebo set away on the back yard lawn, about fifty feet away from the patio and pool deck. Tamara still felt very uncomfortable with the nudity around her; she was surprised she felt that way because nudity itself didn’t really bother her. Except when it involved those sad Florida stripped kids. She recalled that, in rural Haiti, naked children were frequently seen, but they would be from the poorest areas and were always malnourished ... she pulled her thoughts away from those disturbing memories. Somehow, she’d find a way to help those who were disadvantaged...

The six of them walked over to the gazebo. The parade seemed amusingly unbalanced to Tamara. Leading the way were a nude Abi and Ryan, followed by Barbara, nude, and Terence, who was shirtless, wearing shorts. And here she was, in a modest two-piece swimsuit, with a nude Peter. Her natural sense of symmetry was destroyed as her mind played with permutations of the couples’ dress in an attempt to balance their appearances. She shook her head to clear it since Barbara was speaking as they got settled in the seats, sitting by couples...

“So, Abi, exactly how did Emma find you guys with her living in Alaska—a Brit in Alaska is unusual, no? And then she finds a British family living in Maryland. There’s quite a story there, I think.”

Abi grinned and nodded. “Yeah. Grandpa found our soul sister living way up there. Emma was orphaned as a pre-teen when her mum died in England so she went to Alaska where her uncle lived. Grandpa was the U.K. ambassador to the U.S. back then and when the Naked in School Program was gonna start in her Alaska school, Emma refused to cooperate and led a student rebellion against it. When her school tried to find a way to force her to cooperate, she contacted the local consulate for support, wanting them to say that as a foreign national, she couldn’t be made to participate. That’s when Grandpa became involved. Turned out he actually knew Emma’s grandparents when he was much younger and he was keen to meet her, so he invited her to visit him in D.C. She did, as well she met Andrew, Sam, and me, and adopted us.

Terence snorted. “Somehow, whenever we talk about our backgrounds, that Naked in School crap comes up.”

“Oi, it really does,” Abi agreed. “A lot. It was a looming problem for Andrew and Sam when Emma moved here to live with us. That’s ‘cause their high school was gonna start it up that autumn. And that summer, the Program office sent people out, trying to capture Emma, too. They came into our nudist resort without permission.”

“Really? I hadn’t heard about that before, Abi,” Ryan said.

“Ah heard that nudist resorts were really safe,” Terence remarked. “There’s a couple ‘round the Austin area, where Ah’m from.”

“They are safe,” Abi replied. “Here’s what happened. Our resort refused to let these four guys in, so they climbed over the gate. They were Program enforcers, sent by the Program Office, that’s what they were called. But those people were only supposed to enforce Program rules in schools when the Program kids were being disruptive or whatever. Anyway, they snuck in, but a few of our guys, members of our resort, including my dad, overpowered them. Then they stripped them bollok-naked, drove them to a Wal-Mart store car park nearby and chained them to a light pole there. It got on the news.”

“Nice. But why were they after Emma?” Barbara asked.

Abi giggled. “A bunch of those enforcers got sent to Alaska when Emma stopped her school from starting the Program there. When they showed up and tried to strip some kids, she organized their getting arrested and locked up, so Emma thinks the Program Office was retaliating for that.”

Oh really? Tamara thought. That’s something she didn’t tell me about. That woman is fuckin’ impressive.

“Hey. Back it up a moment,” Terence said. “Y’all said Emma refused t’ be in the Program, but she’s a nudist now?”

“Well, what she didn’t like was being forced,” Abi replied. “And the idea of a forced nudity program in Alaska is right barmy, wouldn’t you say? When we first met her, my sibs and I told her that we were nudists and that we all thought it was ace. We told her then about all the brilliant stuff we did at our resort and how it wasn’t at all like the Program. No one was forced to do anything. So when our family was planning our annual holiday at the resort, Dad told her that we all wanted her to join us, and if she did come, she could keep her kit on. Except in the pool, but you know about that. So she said she’d go with us. The rest, well, here we are, aren’t we?”

“The Program keeps coming up,” Ryan commented. “I wonder who here was actually in it. I wasn’t. I went to school in California and the Program hadn’t gotten to our school yet. It got there right after I left. Even though my family were all nudists, I’m not sure how I would have coped if I had been in it. Abi wasn’t in it either; I know it was running in her school but she had diplomatic immunity.”

Terence put up his hand. “Ah’ll start. Simple; Ah went to a private high school. Since the school got no federal bucks, they didn’t have it and never even considered running it.”

Abi laughed. “Even though I was exempt, as Ryan said, I have a story about what happened in my high school before I got there. Sam was starting as a freshman when the Program began there. They picked her to participate even though they had gotten her diplomatic immunity letter a month before school started. But they ignored her letter. So Sam, bless her, did a one-person destruction act on the Program in her school. When she was called onto the stage to strip at her assembly, she turned her stage time into an anti-Program rally and told the whole school that nobody could be forced to strip off. She announced that kids were legally protected ‘cause being forced to strip was an assault and holding a kid to strip him would be a sexual crime. She threatened the principal that if he touched her, or if any teacher did, she would charge them with sexual assault.”

Tamara grinned. “I want to meet that gal! She’s my kind of woman!”

“Also, she turned the idea of participating in it into a joke,” Abi went on. “She told everyone that she wasn’t refusing to be in the Program. She said she would do the Program but do it while keeping her kit on. The kids all thought she was crackin’ brilliant. That really got the officials’ knickers in a twist but they couldn’t do anything about shutting her gob. She ran her anti-Program campaign for the entire time she was in high school.”

Barbara laughed. “We needed someone like her at my school. Definitely.”

“I’ll go next,” Tamara remarked. “The Hopkins people here know that the Program never got started in my school. But if it had, I would have wanted Sam there for sure.”

“Aye, she was brill,” Abi said. “Andrew saw her on stage, how she made the principal look like a helpless clown ... he even started to try to chase her off the stage before he realized how dumb that would look. Then when I got to high school, though, the Program was a little different to the year before. The school officials tried to make it like a game or something, to convince kids to show how brave and adventurous they were. So they tried to tamp down on the forced sexual stuff. Sometimes that worked, but mostly it didn’t. I kept my head down, didn’t I; Mum said not to make waves like Sam did, and I got my exemption ticket punched. Barbara...? Peter...? Peter, you haven’t said anything.”

Tamara saw Peter shudder. Shudder? What? She thought. Then she sensed a faint yellow taste.

Fear? What’s he afraid of? She put a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay, Peter?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. We had the fuckin’ thing in my school and it almost put me into the nut house. But my shrinks told me that the more I talk about it, the more it will help me get over those bad memories,” Peter said quietly.

“Crap, man, what happened?” Terence asked.

Peter shook his head. “Um, let me tell it my way ... I’ll lead up to what happened.”

Tamara put her arm around his shoulder. She gathered up a calming light green taste and “pushed” it gently around the two of them; she could feel his tension drop away.

“Oohh, your arm feels so good like that, Tamara,” he sighed. “It suddenly made me feel better about talking about this.”

Barbara looked at him intently. “Really, Peter? You think you can talk about it now? You’ve always...”

Peter raised his hand. “Something about Tamara. She’s giving me comfort; I can feel it coming from her.”

Ohmygod, Tamara thought, he’s a latent empath! No wonder I’m attracted to him.

Barbara looked at Tamara, who nodded back. Barbara made the finger “okay” sign, circling her thumb and finger. Tamara winked back. Peter missed the whole exchange; he was gathering his thoughts.

“I need to say something about me when I was a kid,” he began. “I was a very shy and withdrawn kid. I did fine in school except when it came to participate. If I got called on, I got tongue-tied. So my folks got some advice and had me take singing lessons, of all crazy things. Starting when I was seven. And guess what? It worked, not big time, but enough that I didn’t pee my pants if I got called on. Anyway, when my family moved to Maryland, living next to me was this girl, I grew up with her, basically, for eight years. Her name’s Amy Pierson and we were very close.

“She was as shy as me, but was better in class participation. She and I both took those singing lessons. But we really didn’t have friends; we were each other’s friend.”

Barbara broke in. “They were like the two nuts in a peanut shell. They were cute together. The teachers let them be themselves, too.”

“Yeah, until high school, that is,” Peter said bitterly. “Amy had developed a physical problem. It was delayed puberty. The two of us were well over 14 years old when we started high school. I still remember how Amy looked at almost 15; she was maybe 4 feet 9 inches and couldn’t have weighed more than 75 pounds. That’s how big a typical eleven-year-old girl is. And she had zero chest. You can imagine what happened to her in high school. How those bitch girls teased and treated her.”

“Peter got into such trouble trying to defend her,” Barbara interrupted. “I did too, trying to watch out for my shy, nerdy brother, to defend him. I was a year older so I couldn’t protect him and Amy all the time.”

“She did a good job, though,” Peter complimented her. “So Amy went to the doctor’s and they did a whole bunch of tests. An MRI showed a benign tumor of the pituitary gland ... adenoma? I think.”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, that would be the right term. They’re uncommon in kids, the larger sizes, anyway. I’m assuming it was a non-functioning pituitary adenoma?”

“If you mean that it wasn’t producing any hormones, yes, that’s right. It was doing something to the gland to keep it from her starting puberty,” Peter told him.

“I’ll show off what I learned then,” Ryan grinned. “That’s called ‘hypogonadotropic hypogonadism’ which means that the gonads aren’t producing sex hormones because of a problem in the pituitary gland or hypothalamus. Docs like to show off with fancy words to describe simple concepts.”

The others laughed.

“Did they do surgery or radiation?” Ryan asked.

“The parents didn’t want radiation and the doc recommended against it anyway. Too small a target on her,” Peter answered. Ryan nodded in agreement. “But they wanted to postpone surgery and try hormone therapy first, but they knew that would take maybe two years to show anything. How do they get in there, though? The pituitary is under the entire brain.”

“It’s a little tricky. You can reach that area by going through the back of the upper nasal cavity, through the sphenoid sinus there. The procedure’s called transsphenoidal surgery and it’s done through the nose or from behind the upper lip.”

“Eeww,” a few of the listeners said.

Peter nodded. “So, when they first told us about the Program, they said the selections of kids would be random. What a damned lie. It was crazy; we were both picked, Amy and I, the same week, spring term in our freshman year. Her parents had told her that they requested an exemption for her. Amy obviously still looked like a little girl. I was surprised that I reacted so strongly to being selected since I was brought up being a nudist. But what I saw with the Program going on all that fall wasn’t nudism; it was cruel, disgusting, and depraved, how the girls were treated. And the things they forced the guys to do. The anguish of those poor kids having to go through that shit was just tearing me up.”

I was right, Tamara thought. A strong empath.

“But Amy wasn’t a nudist and she also had all that psychological damage done to her by the girls over body-image stuff. When they called her to the office in the week’s announcements naming the Program participants, she fainted. The emotional shock I felt from that was immense, seeing what happened to her, and that’s probably why I had such a strong reaction myself.”

I was wrong. Not a strong empath. A super empath.

“They had called my name too, but I stayed with her. But instead of taking her to the nurse, a teacher carried her to the office and they woke her with a cold wet towel. Then they force-stripped her; she was shrieking and crying. They stripped me too, but I tried to fight them, so a couple of teachers held me down and they cut my pants off.

“The Program official told me then, that he was giving us a second week as a penalty. Amy for fainting and me for not going to the office immediately and for fighting. When they dragged the two of us out of the office into the hall, naked, something in my mind just went away. I was dying inside. I couldn’t help Amy. I could only stand there and watch as the other kids made her into a toy, playing with her body. She was screaming and then just collapsed.”

“I got there just then,” Barbara interrupted. “I saw what happened and just waded in, shoving kids away. Amy was totally unconscious and had bruises everywhere. Not a teacher anywhere, either. I got someone to help me carry her to the nurse and I called 911 and her parents. Her parents went to the hospital with her. Turns out that Amy responded exactly like a rape victim does—but even worse; she had the previous psychological damage from all the harassing. She couldn’t come back to school—her parents sued and even got a big settlement. They moved away within the year, too, and that broke Peter’s heart. Peter and I still keep in touch and Amy is a little better, but she’s really changed. She’s become nervous, suspicious, and can’t maintain a relationship. She’s still getting therapy. But this is about Peter and what happened to him.”

“Yeah, what happened to Amy just tore me up, but I wasn’t in my body anymore. I was outside of it, watching. Kids were poking me and pulling on my cock and all, but I felt nothing. The bell rang and I stood there; I couldn’t get my body to work. Someone, maybe a teacher, led me to a classroom. I have no idea if it was the right one. During that class, I began to connect with my body, enough that I could tell it what to do. I saw that someone had brought my books. All I could think of was Amy.

“I remember watching myself walking from one class to another. Kids were stopping me for those ‘reasonable requests’ that the Program requires. I just stood there and watched. I felt nothing. I don’t even recall hearing much, except when someone told me to stop, I stopped.”

“I saw him like that,” Barbara said. “I found him in the hall after I left the nurse’s when Amy went to the hospital. She was still crying so hard, her body was shaking. Anyway, Peter looked like a walking dead person in the movies ... you know, a zombie. Totally vacant eyes. When he looked at me, I saw a spark of recognition, but it went away. I asked him if he was okay ... all he said was a whispered, ‘No.’”

“I think I remember that, sis. I was trying to untangle my thoughts. I think it was that day, maybe the next, when a teacher decided I should be an anatomical model. I totally blanked out who the teacher was. It was either in my health class or biology class, but they had maybe twenty weeks of Program kids to use as models before that week so they needed yet another demo? Anyway, someone must have told the teacher that I hadn’t gotten an erection yet. So apparently the lesson was to get me to have one.

“The teacher got me hoisted up on the table at the front of the room, and totally unnecessarily, she pointed out to the class all of the obvious external parts. It seemed like I was watching all this from a point about three feet above me. She pulled and pushed my cock, stretching it up to show my balls, while trying to do something to stimulate me. I couldn’t feel anything but I saw her fingers working on me.

“When she finished her show-and-tell, she asked the kids in the class to come up, one by one, to get a really close view of me and to handle the parts on display. Then she mentioned that it would be instructive to see if any student had the skill to produce an erection in the subject, me, since the subject did not get one when she tried. See, I thought she was trying to do something.

“The parade began. Kids pulled on my cock. Kids sucked on my cock. Even a few boys. Kids fondled my balls. Kids licked and sucked on my balls. Someone even tried to stick a finger in my ass but she stopped that. I wouldn’t have felt that anyway; I felt nothing. I felt nothing even when I noticed the teacher’s look of disappointment and defeat when the entire class had a chance at manipulating my parts, and got absolutely no response.”

“What a bloody awful story—a terrible experience,” Abi said and the others nodded. “What happened to you to cause that ... oh, it’s an out-of-body experience, right?”