Chapter 9

Those purple wigs again. The last time I wore them a woman beat and strangled me. I almost died.

But my girlfriend Harmony wanted it.

Miss Krystal brought two beauticians with her—Nala and Gina. They made me up first. As at the mall, they folded my genitals and taped them up so that I could pass myself off as a girl even when stark naked.

"We couldn't do this if you weren't on SlackTime," Gina commented. "You'd get a stiffy and bust loose from the tape."

As soon as I was made up, it was Harmony's turn. She didn't get taped up, but after they put a neck brace on Harmony, we could have passed ourselves off as twins.

Next stop: the auditorium of an old church. There were many women and girls there, but I wasn't able to count them. Miss Krystal took Harmony and me on the stage and gave a lecture on gender differences.

"These two children have no secondary sexual characteristics," Miss Krystal explained. "One is a boy and one is a girl. When girls grow up they sprout breasts and wider hips. Boys get hairy, their voices deepen, and they grow beards and go bald. Both genders develop distinct body odors. Children are odorless, but the distinct adult musk used to differentiate males and females.

"Today, of course, we deodorize ourselves," Miss Krystal continued. "We then use artificial scents because the natural body odors are offensive—because these odors signal domination or submission. You may have heard of the smell of success or the stench of fear. Civilized humans attempt to achieve the scentless state of young animals in the wild for much the same reason—camouflage."

Miss Krystal warned that people splash on artificial scent until they can smell it on themselves. Humans are hard-wired for novelty and a constant state soon fades into the background of perception.

Something like naked kids in The Program generated little interest. Nude children were part of the faded background constant state.

"This presentation is all about gender differences," Miss Krystal announced. "See if you can tell which one is the boy."

I was examined closely by several women and girls. I counted a dozen women—all dressed, except for Miss Krystal—and a dozen girls—all naked—and lost track. There were just too many people, too many distractions. Harmony gripped my hand and murmured reassurance.

I dreaded the moment that the tape would be ripped from my crotch for two reasons: first, there was a tearing sensation that was less than pleasant. Second, I feared a repeat of the shoe store, when a woman came unglued and attacked me because I wasn't a girl.

Nala removed the tape as Gina explained how they disguised my sex. I gripped Harmony's hand so hard that she yelped.

"Sorry," I apologized as I released my hold. Harmony snared my hand and held it in both of her's.

We were examined again—me, mostly. They obviously knew what girl parts were, even though 70% of the adults and 60% of the girls thought that I was the girl and Harmony was the boy. Perhaps calling me Lanni and her Harm did the trick.

The entire point of Miss Krystal's presentation was that the most basic human identity, gender, was superficial as well as arbitrary and artificial. It was changeable, too—because we were a clothing-compulsive society. The Program was supposed to correct that.

"I recommend that you mothers practice nudity with your daughters as often as possible," Miss Krystal wrapped up her presentation. "Exercise your right to be naked in public. Don't worry about having perfect bodies—nobody has a perfect body. Besides, modern science can correct most cosmetic issues. It's all how you present yourself. Young Lanni here is actually Cadet Scott Land Thistle from the Mackie boy's academy. There the boys learn to be men. It took just a few minutes work and some make-up to create a convincing illusion."