Chapter 8

THE PEP RALLY: TUESDAY, AUGUST 19th, 2047

“Mom! I mean, Brittany, this is really happening! It’s so exciting!” Julie said to me as she picked up my lead and took her place behind Karen and Tiffany in the line of other women waiting to be introduced for the Breeder Program. The entire school would soon see me completely naked!

The waiting was driving me crazy with suspense!

“Yeah, it’s happening!” I smiled broadly. It’s what I do when I am embarrassed. The butterflies in my tummy under control, but I just felt a butterfly buzzing around, trying to wake the others up and get them to start swarming around.

“Mom, you aren’t having second thoughts, are you? This is going to be such an adventure!”

“No, I am just nervous about what your Dad, Reese, and Dewey will think,” I admitted. That was a half-truth. I had second thoughts because this was all so different and nothing like what I could have imagined. The fact that the students saw naked people and didn’t run for the hills or call us flashers was still hard for me to wrap my head around.

“Dad is going to complain no matter what, but all that money you will make at the end will make him happy. Dewey is a momma’s boy, and he worships the ground you walk on, and Reese will probably make some smart-ass comments, but so what?”

“Dewey doesn’t worship the ground I walk on,” I clarified. “Dewey and I have a very close relationship, but I doubted it was like worship. He just really liked hanging out with me.”

“Shhh,” Tiffany called back to us as she tried to listen for the principal to stop talking about the Football team. The marching band played music, and the principal announced the NIS Program would be next.

We heard cheers, laughter, even some boos as we marched out onto the gymnasium floor. The areas of the gymnasium we had run laps in earlier had been converted to bleachers, and now there were 1,800 fully clothed students and an appropriate number of teachers, janitors, and school faculty watching us march out on to the basketball court.

I was turning red in the face just thinking about it, while keeping my eyes trained on my daughter’s butt as I followed behind her with my hands crossed behind my back. If I had looked up at the crowd, I might have panicked and frozen in place.

The marching band slipped into a rendition of “The Stripper” by David Rose. It’s a saucy song that came out decades before I was born. It was a well-known anthem of strippers to take their strip down naked in front of men. It was obvious that the band was playing a prank on us when the crowd erupted in laughter.

Crystal and Darla shook their asses playfully as the crowd intensified their noise. They were either oblivious to the fact we were being laughed at, didn’t care, or thought it was funny as well. The band leader promptly ordered the band to stop playing the song, and then Jen took the stage when the music stopped.

“Hi, as many of you know, I am Ms. Collins, the NIS Coordinator, and it’s my second year here. It never ceases to stop being funny when the band plays the Stripper song when the participants march out here,” she said sarcastically as she looked in the direction of the band.

“You know, I am glad they played that song. It shows that despite over a decade of the NIS Program, there are still people who think nudity is a joke. We all remember being little and seeing each other in the bathtub and laughing, “I see your winky!!”

A few students laughed along with her, but most remained quiet.

“As we mature, and we grow into our bodies, and hormones take over, then everything to do with the human anatomy seems dirty and perverted. Your brain is telling you to do and want things you’ve never wanted to do or want. Your society is telling you that those are naughty things and that creates repression and often leads to EXTREME deviant behavior to compensate for what could have been healthy normalization of the human body. You have all attended the NIS seminars, or you will if you are incoming Freshman, so I won’t expound upon that further. I just want to thank the North Little Rock Marching Band for helping me make my point. How about a round of applause?”

Jen clapped condescendingly because she clearly thought they were in the wrong. Some students applauded, but most understood that Ms. Collins was being facetious.

“This year, we have a new Program to introduce to you. Many of you have heard of it. It’s the Breeding Program,” she said. There were boos, cheers, laughs, and Jen had to wait for it to die down before continuing.

“In a few moments, you’ll meet the Trainers and Breeders that have VOLUNTEERED to participate in this Program to help spread the message of acceptance, reduce body shaming, and improve education. I know some of you aren’t impressed. I wasn’t when I was a Freshman. The last thing I wanted to do was show my boobs to total strangers. I went to a school that had a lottery system, and luckily, I won in the first week of school. I got over my shyness, made a bunch of new friends, and learned that if someone sees my boobs, the world does not end.”

“NICE RACK!” a kid yelled out, and someone else wolf-whistled at her.

“I also grew to accept and understand those comments that may have felt insulting years ago. I welcome them as opportunities to educate on the power of words toward self-esteem. I have also learned through the Program that, as I entered the university, there were other types of relationships than the ones I saw on television. The nuclear family of a man, a woman, and two-point-five kids wasn’t normal. Normal is just Programming to conform. That norm is someone’s idea of what we should do with our freedom, but it isn’t everyone’s idea of ideal. Normal is a marketing campaign to sell an idea to people of what they should like and not like. I am here to tell you that the world is bigger than one idea of what that is. It’s vanilla ice cream for some, chocolate for others, and every flavor you can imagine for someone else. In my journey of understanding, I began to see that other people were quite happy leading other alternative lifestyles that worked for them. This year’s Program will teach ONE flavor of such a relationship that some may already know and conform to, and others may never heard of, because it is not a mainstream relationship.”

There was quiet, but the audience seemed more captivated now, and side-chatter was minimal.

“The key IS and always shall be consent of the informed. It’s dysfunctional if everyone at the party DOES NOT want to be there, right?”

She let those words sink in before continuing.

“The Breeder Program is going to produce at least six healthy babies at our high school. They will be adopted by families that want the children and have the means to raise them. That’s a worthy goal. That’s also not the only goal. You will watch in real-time as the Breeders conceive, become pregnant, and eventually give birth. Hopefully, you will walk away with an understanding of what those experiences are like for a woman.”

I could hear no side chatter from the audience. She really had their complete attention. I was impressed because, for a woman, Jen was an outstanding speaker. I could see why Julie admired Ms. Collins so much.

“In addition, we will demonstrate one aspect of an alternative lifestyle. A total power exchange between the Trainer and the Breeder producing that child. One person has AUTHORITY and RESPONSIBILITY for the Other. You will observe that as well. The Trainers will be responsible for their Breeders and have authority over them. The Trainers will determine if they or their Breeder will perform a reasonable request. The Trainers have all gone through a rigorous certification process, and most have been in the Program already.”

“Allowing someone else to decide what is reasonable requires trust, commitment, and constant communication. You will be able to ask questions about that and have an opportunity to see it up close. There are people who believe that submission is a sign of weakness. That it is something inflicted upon another person. That something is wrong with wanting to give and do for another person, and they cannot or will not accept a scenario where both partners are equal.”

There was nothing but silence, and Jen continued her speech.

“There are few relationships where both participants are equal. Show of hands, how many people have parents who can’t decide where to eat at night? What do you want? Well, no, what do you want?”

Hands went up by the hundreds.

“Equality can lead to indecision; ultimately, one person wanted Red Lobster, and the other didn’t care where they went. They were just too afraid to pick something the other person didn’t want. This happens every night in many households across America. Why? Because that may be the relationship they want, but more than likely? It is the only relationship they know how to have!”

People’s hands went down, but they still paid attention to Jen.

“Imagine a relationship where one partner decides where you are going to eat. There is no argument, no negotiation. They simply decide. That may sound unfair to the other partner, but what if that partner really wanted to be liberated from having to make that decision for both of them? What if they would prefer to be surprised? Do you think that the decision maker is going to intentionally pick the worst places to eat? The places that the other person doesn’t want to eat?”

No one answered, but she was not expecting a response from the crowd.

“If people in a relationship decide that one person should make the decisions on some matters, and that works for them, that’s great. Yet, it’s also very hard to sit down with your loved one and work out those rules of engagement. All we are doing this year with the Trainer-Breeder Program is extending an opportunity to watch that type of relationship shape up. It’s my belief that the dynamic within the six partners at this stage is going to diverge and adapt to what works for each of them. Is it important who gets to decide, or is it important that everyone is happy with the decision?”

Ms. Collins waited for some applause, and a slow golf clap started, which erupted into a longer form of applause. Jen handed things back over to the principal.

“Thank you, Ms. Cooper,” the elderly principal tried not to stare at Jen’s perfect tits. He accidentally called her Cooper because he was distracted. Jen tried to correct him. “In addition to this new and exciting Program, there are some much-needed funds that will come to the school and the NIS Program through fundraising activities. Over the next few weeks, boys will be able to buy breeding tickets for an opportunity to participate in the Program as the Sperm donor of a new life. These tickets are only a DOLLAR for each chance in the drawing, but you must buy them for the specific Breeder in question. If you are chosen, then your DNA may end up inside these women to make a baby!”

The audience of boys made monkey noises, cheered, laughed and generally made outrageous comments. A few girls booed.

“That may have been a poor choice of words, but you get the general idea. I would expect Ms. Collins will get into greater detail in the future. In addition, In the coming months, the NIS Program will put on competitions between the Breeders and eventually hold one against our rivals at Central High School, THE TIGERS!!”

There were scowls and boos for the Tigers all around. The principal dramatically clenched his fists, and the audience howled.

Jen returned to the stage and gave a very short version of the differences between Trainers and Breeders from the standard rules. She highlighted just a few things.

· Trainers can accept or reject reasonable requests and punish the Breeders if necessary.

· All reasonable requests to Breeders must be authorized by the Trainers.

· Breeders will be addressed by first name only and, in the future, by a pet name assigned by their Trainer.

· Breeders will wear special collars that track health statistics and location and can apply minimal and humane shocks as a warning.

· She also explained that we’d be squatting on the floor, and we demonstrated the squatting position to raucous laughter from the audience. Julie looked down at me, squatting by her side while she held my head and winked with pride.

“Go ahead and get the laughs out,” Jen had anticipated that reaction. She also instructed us to demonstrate the breeding and diaper position and told people not to be surprised if they see the Breeders in those positions.

I felt so embarrassed by the entire thing, I wanted it to be over. It felt like it took forever, but I was told we had only been on stage for 15 minutes.

In the very last part, we were introduced one by one. When it was my turn, Jen called my name.

“Julie Garner’s mother, Brittany, is her Breeder,” Jen introduced me after Karen and Tiffany. I was surprised by the massive wave of catcalls, wolf whistles, and comments about my boobs from the crowd. I expected to be considered fairly average looking. A few guys even shouted, “Show us your tits!” even though I was already naked and my tits were out. I guessed that they were making a joke. I could only offer a big smile because everything else on my body was visible for people to see.

The butterflies in my stomach were absent. They had disappeared. I think they were afraid of the tiny fish that were devouring them one by one. I had piranha in my stomach, swarming and taking small bites out of the inner lining of my tummy, or at least that’s how it felt.

“Brittany, do you consent to be a member of the Program as a Breeder, as it was explained to you today, and to support the NIS by accepting reasonable requests, attending school in the nude as well as outside of school on a 24/7 basis, and obeying your Trainer under the guidelines of the Program?”

“Yes, I do,” I answered into her microphone. I felt like I was making a marriage vow.

“Do you have anything you wish to add?”

“Go Wildcats!” I smiled and waved. It was the right thing to say. I had attended this school when I was a teenager and the old standards still work. The crowd erupted into cheers.

Jen waited for the crowd to stop cheering and said, “I am going to turn on your collar. Once it is on, if you remove it before completing the Program, then you are out of the Program. Do you fully understand that?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I answered into her microphone.

“Do you further understand that you are restricted from clothing outside of school property at ALL times?

“Yes, I consent to that, Ma’am,” I answered.

“In addition, without special permission from Instructors, your Trainer, or Me, you are forbidden from furniture use at all times because you are beneath your Trainer in the hierarchy and should be squatting at their feet?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I agree that’s where I belong.”

I don’t know why I said “where I belong”, it just felt right to agree with her. I smiled after I said it because there was no taking it back. No one freaked out or laughed at me for responding like that.

Jen smiled at me and winked just like Julie had. It was very reassuring. She leaned in close to me and activated my collar. There was a small green light to indicate that it was now locked on. “That was a good touch, saying Go Wildcats. I meant if you wanted to tell the crowd your thoughts, or where you are from, or anything like that.”

“No, I am fine,” I said shyly.

“We’re going to work on your introvertedness, Brittany,” Ms. Collins promised. My smiles were probably my attempt to hide the fact that I had been a bashful person all of my life.

Jen introduced every Trainer, and then she followed them with their Breeder. I was the first to say, “Go Wildcats,” and when Karen did the same thing, she got a smaller reaction.

After that, we were marched off the stage. The band played the appropriate music for us, and I heard the Principal call for the basketball team next. “That’s a tough act to follow,” he said as we left.

I noticed a few of the faculty and students wore no clothing or were topless in the stands. Public nudity is legal everywhere in Arkansas like it is in the 50 other states. I had assumed you had to be in the NIS Program to come to school naked, but I was encouraged by the fact that we wouldn’t be the only ones not wearing clothes. I even noticed many of the cheerleaders were topless and wore only flimsy miniskirts as they stood next to the basketball and football teams.

Jen hugged us all before we left and ensured that we had her number, her email, and the number of the anonymous reporting tip line. She also made sure no one had remaining questions or doubts to address and then dismissed us early for the day.

“You can stay for the rest of the pep rally or get out of here and come back tomorrow charged up. We’ll have a two-hour workshop between 2nd and 3rd periods and eat lunch together tomorrow. After that, the workshops will usually be shorter. Your assignment will be to start journaling your thoughts in a the online NIS Portal. You will be asked what you are learning, what you are observing, your concerns, your activities, and include questions. You will receive assignments there to test your knowledge.”

“How many pages does it have to be per night?” Tiffany asked.

“As many as you need to document and manifest your thoughts,” Jen replied breezily. That didn’t seem to satisfy Tiffany, but she shrugged it off with a dirty look on her face.

Everyone went their separate ways, and soon, it was just my daughter and me.

“Should I go back and get my clothes?” I asked Julie after we were dismissed. I hadn’t forgotten the clothes I left in the school office.

“What? Why are you asking me?” Julie said before realizing she was the Trainer and correcting herself. “Oh yeah, that’s right. No, you don’t need them. You won’t be wearing them, and they were ugly mom jeans anyway.”

I was a little hurt by that comment. I liked those “mom jeans,” as she called them. They were comfortable stone-washed jeans that fit me nicely in the rear.

“We’ll get them tomorrow,” she said.

“Are you going to ride home naked?”