Jim Bustillos, Tuesday, September 6, 1955
I got off the train at Union Station and pulled my scholarship letter out of my suitcase. It had Dr. Walter's address on it and I was supposed to see him as soon as I got in. Clutching the letter in my hand, I strode off in what I hoped was the general direction of Yale University.
By the time I got to Dr. Walter's office my feet were killing me. I had purchased new shoes and they were clearly not wide enough. I was confronted by Dr. Walter's rather busty secretary.
"Service entrance is in the back, kid."
"I'm here to see Dr. Walter. He told me to meet him in his office." I showed her the letter and she pressed a button on her intercom, glaring at me the whole time.
"Dr. Walter, there's some wetback in here that says he's supposed to meet you. Do you know anything about it?"
The door opened and a rather nervous-looking man in his middle 50's emerged.
"You're Jim?" he asked.
"Yes, sir." I showed him the letter.
"Step into my office," he ushered me inside and closed the door.
"So sorry about Gladys," he glanced towards the intercom and lowered his voice, "I've been trying to get rid of her for some time, but they won't let me. I think she might be working for the F.B.I."
"Why would the F.B.I. be interested in you?"
"Katherine told you about my research?"
"You mean Ms. Curran?"
"She said it was something to do with sex education."
"Yes, I mean in general. You see, I'm a doctor by training, specializing in adolescent psychiatry. My research in the '30s discovered a link between repression of the sexual impulse in adolescence and adult neuroses, and I'm afraid that it was rather scandalously misused in a Russian psychiatric journal to diagnose President Nixon as a paranoiac, which is complete rubbish of course, but it got me in a bit of trouble with the Senate Internal Security Committee. Now I'm developing a version of Dr. Wagner's Naked in School Program for colleges. You'll actually be the first class to go through it this semester."
"Wait, isn't that that program Senator McCarthy got all fired up about last year?"
"Exactly, and you may have noticed that Mr. McCarthy's star isn't quite as high as he once was."
"So if that secretary could prove you were a Communist..."
"It would put Mr. McCarthy back in the good graces of the public, and potentially the running for Vice-President."
"Are you a Communist?"
"Of course not, but McCarthyists have a way of misconstruing things, so it pays to be careful."
"Anyway, before I give you the tour I'd like you to meet Professor Drake. I told him about you and he's interested in hiring you on as a research assistant."
"What does a research assistant do?"
"Dr. Drake will explain," he led me into the next office and past Professor Drake's secretary. Professor Drake was a rather portly man with a ruddy face who clapped me on the shoulder.
"You must be Jim, sit down and I'll get you a drink." He poured three glasses of brandy and gave one to me. I drank it very slowly as he expounded on his research agenda.
"I studied anatomy under Dr. Freidlich at Heidelberg, this was before the war, obviously, and it was there that I made my first major breakthrough. The Freudians had sex all wrong, they thought it was all to do with neuroses and repressed memory, when actually, it is a function of the natural libido. You see Mr., is it BUH-still-os?"
"Ah, Bustillo, at the age of puberty we each develop an innate sex drive, it is the repression of this sex drive, not repressed traumas, that drive psychological illness. My current research aims to uncover the chemical origin of this sex drive in females, which is where you come in. Our experiment consists of sampling the blood of our co-ed students immediately after intercourse. Up until now I've been partnering with the young ladies myself, but they haven't been as responsive as we might have hoped. My secretary suggested it might help if we partnered the girls with someone younger and with a more, exotic mien, a sort of latter-day Valentino."
I didn't know who Valentino was, but I was afraid to ask. I just made a mental note to bone up on my art history.
"Your job would be to come in three times a day for an appointment with a young lady. Do you think you have the requisite stamina?"
"Yes, but are you sure I have the right background for this sort of thing?"
"Oh, it doesn't require any scientific training."
"I meant socially. These are Yale girls after all."
"That's the beauty of it. As soon as I heard Ray mention your scholarship, I knew you'd be perfect for the role. You'll be exotic, unique. The girls won't be able to get enough of you."
"I was more concerned about their fathers, actually."
"Oh, we didn't feel we needed to inform the parents. You see, the University acts in loco parentis, so we can approve this sort of thing on the parents' behalf."
"Oh, well in that case it should be fine."
"Excellent. Your salary is 30 dollars a week and you can start tomorrow. Meet me here at 9:00 am."
Professor Walter looked at his pocket watch and cleared his throat. "I'm afraid we've overshot our schedule, the tour will have to wait until tomorrow. You need to report to the gymnasium for your physical by five." He told me where to find the gymnasium, an oddly castle like building up the street from a cemetery. When I got there I was ushered into a cloakroom where I was bidden to strip down, along with several hundred of my new classmates. We were then led onto the gymnasium floor, given a card to fill out with our names, addresses, and a series of rather detailed questions about our family backgrounds and told to line up.
I got through the line and was examined by a series of doctors, each of whom made some sort of notation on my card. The last doctor returned the card and instructed me to proceed into a smaller room, where I sat down across a table from a younger-looking man who took my card and stapled it to a larger sheet of paper.
"Let's see, James BUH-still-loess, is that Italian?"
He marked something down on the paper. "When was your first sexual experience?"
"I was 13."
"And the girl?"
"How many sexual partners since then."
I thought for a moment, "seven."
"Impressive, all the same general age as you?"
"Ever involved in homosexual activities?"
"What about perversions?"
After a few more questions in the same general vein I was dismissed to return to the coat room. I dressed and found my dorm room. My roommate had one bare foot propped up on a stool, and was attempting to clean it with a washcloth. He stood up to greet me.
"Charlie Dana, nice to meet you."
I returned the greeting and Charlie returned to his ablutions as I unpacked my suitcase. With a loud crash the stool gave way, leaving Charlie sprawled out on the floor. "There's got to be a better way to do that," he muttered as he recollected his dignity.
"There's not a fountain anywhere nearby?" I asked.
"Not that I've seen."
"Shame, my feet are killing me. I went barefooted too much as a child."
"So did I, used to drive mother crazy when we'd have company. I guess I still do, come to think of it."
"Charlie's a perfect child," a female voice coming from behind me explained, "always barefoot and stark naked any time you turn your back for half a minute."
"Jim this is my twin sister, Alice."
I could immediately see the resemblance. They were both tall, with chestnut brown hair, and a family chin. Actually, Alice was quite attractive, with a curvaceous figure accented by the tight sweater she was wearing. Alice explained that she was living in the girls' suite across the hall from ours, and then suggested that we get dinner.
"I have to be up early," she explained, "I've been drafted into one of the psychology department's mad experiments."
"What's the experiment?" Charlie asked.
"I was talking about it with a girl who was two years ahead of me at Miss Porter's. She said they take you in some basement and one of the professors takes you to bed. Nasty, fat, old man, apparently."
I blushed suddenly, "I think he's been replaced."
Alice Dana, Wednesday, September 7, 1955
I awoke early, ate breakfast, and reported to the psychology department. I was met by a nurse, who instructed me to remove my clothing and provided me with a locker to hang it up in. Then, without warning, she jabbed a needle in my arm.
"Sorry dear, but that's for the experiment. They need to test your blood." She swabbed the injection site with something that stung mightily. She led me into another room. The professor was seated in front of a table, taking notes. The only other furniture was a bed, next to which Jim was standing. He was every bit as naked as I was, and evidently quite happy to see me. My heart started beating faster. He was indeed quite good looking.
"Do we just go ahead and start?" I asked.
"Yes, please do."
I got in the bed and pulled the covers up over me. I'm not normally modest but for some reason I didn't want the professor to see me naked.
Jim climbed in next to me, pressing his taut, bronze skin against mine. I was breathing heavily.
"You've got me quite worked up," I admitted.
"I've been known to have that effect." He wrapped one arm around me and began massaging my femininity. It was quite pleasurable, much more so than any of the other times I'd been with a boy.
"Where did you learn this?"
"Dirty movie," he looked embarrassed, "I didn't mean to be vulgar."
"I guess it's a vulgar situation. I'm not exactly behaving like, ohhh ... a model of decorum myself."
He continued for several minutes, until I was dangerously close to hysteria.
"Are you a virgin?" he asked.
He positioned himself on top of me. I stared into his deep, dark eyes as he penetrated me. Before long I was unable to control myself, wrapping my legs around him and tensing my whole body. Spasms of pleasure coursed through me, and I cried out wordlessly, dead to everything but my own sensations. The spasms slowed and then stopped, leaving me panting in Jim's arms.
The professor came over and pulled me out of the bed. "That must have been a female orgasm. There very rare, never actually seen one myself before." He led me back to the anteroom. I was still too out of it to complain when the nurse jabbed me with the needle again, and then helped me get dressed.
Jim was waiting for me at the door to the psychology building. He offered me a cigarette, which I gladly accepted. My nerves were shot.
"Have you ever done that to a girl before?" I asked.
"Yes, but not on the first try."
"Why did you ask if I was a virgin?"
"You have to be careful with virgins. Sometimes it hurts them when you tear the hymen."
"Hm ... now that you mention it something hurt my first time. So how many girls do you get to do this to?"
"Three, I have appointments at noon and six."
"So I guess you won't be interested in working off the clock, so to speak."
"I might. My weekends are still free."
"They aren't paying you enough to take a girl on a date, are they?"
"They are, but her brother would have to approve first."
"I'm a liberated girl, you know. I don't need Charlie's permission to go out without a chaperone."
"No, but you aren't the one who'll be sharing a room with him if he gets sore about it."
"I guess you're right. We'll bring it up at lunch."
After a quick lie-down, I had a meeting with my advisor. He suggested classes to sign up for and gave me a pamphlet on the Naked Week Program. I had heard about the program before. It was all the talk at Miss Porter's when it was announced and got several girls to switch from Yale to Vassar at the last minute.
I put the pamphlet in my purse and met Jim and Charlie outside the freshman dining hall. True to form, Charlie was barefoot and wearing jeans. He grinned at me wickedly as I walked up.
"So how does my roommate hold up in bed?"
"A lot better than any of your old lacrosse pals, if you must know. In fact, I'm hoping he'll ask me on a date."
I glanced at Charlie's face to gauge his reaction. It was unambiguously positive.
"Hey, that's a swell idea! We could double date."
"Who would you go with?"
"I dunno, I was thinking you could set me up with Carolyn." Carolyn Brown was an old school pal and my new suite-mate. They shared a disregard for propriety and would actually be perfect for each other.
"All right, but you'll have to dress decently."
Charlie rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. When we finished lunch I went back to my room and read the Naked Week pamphlet.
In order to promote the development of healthy attitudes towards the human body and sexual relations ... Each incoming freshman student will be required to register for one week during the fall semester in which they shall remain entirely nude at all times while on campus. Failure to do so will result in a repeated week and academic probation. For their own comfort, students are advised to select a week early in the semester. Students registered for a Naked Week may be requested to serve as demonstration subjects or live models in classes, and to assist with extracurricular activities upon the advice of the faculty ... While the Naked Week does not require students to be nude off-campus, they are encouraged to do so for purposes of outreach...
I went over to the boys' common room. Jim had taken his shoes off and was smoking a cigarette. Margaret and Jennie were in the corner, speaking in low voices to Jim and Charlie's suitemates Cal and Warren, and Carolyn was reading a book.
I asked if everyone had read the Naked Week pamphlets, and they all had, so I outlined my plan. We would all sign up for the same week.
"That way," I explained, "whatever happens, we'll all go through it together."
The idea met with general agreement, and we all agreed on a week. It would be cutting the weather a bit close, but we ended up going with the first full week in October.
Jim Bustillos, Monday, October 3, 1955.
I awoke early for the first day of my week of nudity. I had an 8:00 am class and then my appointment with Professor Drake. There was a slight autumn chill in the air as I made my way to the engineering building. Not wanting to be on display, I sat down at the back of the class. When the lecture was over, I approached Professor Hertzfeld. I needed to speak with him about a project I was working on out of class.
"Ah, Jimmy. Those dowels came in yesterday."
"Great, I'll be by to finish up tomorrow morning. Thanks, Dr. Hertzfeld."
"Oh, ah ... How is the, ahhhh ... program coming." He gestured to my nude form.
"A bit drafty, but I haven't had any problems yet."
I had spoken too soon. I was accosted by some upperclassmen who thought a nude freshman walking around campus was great sport, and was almost late for my appointment.
The girl was waiting for me by the time I got there. She looked nervous and shrank back a little when I entered the room.
I tried to reassure her by shaking her hand. "Hi, I'm Jim."
"My name is Ethel, n-nice to meet you."
"Thanks, strange circumstances though." She didn't laugh.
We both got into bed. I noticed she was sweating, and her skin was clammy.
"Are you nervous."
"Yes, I mean, I've never been naked in front of boys before, and you're, well ... not someone I'd usually, I mean..."
"Do you want to stop?"
"No, please go on," Dr. Drake interrupted, "we need to get a full sample for the experiment."
I started massaging her back, hoping to relax her a little bit. It seemed to work. I gently spread open her legs and got on top of her.
"Are you a virgin?"
"Ok, then this might hurt a bit." I slowly penetrated her until she gave a little yelp. I stopped, "Just tell me when you're ready to keep going."
I held her for a few moments until she whispered "I'm ready."
I started thrusting. Ethel looked like she still wanted it to be over, so I went quickly. I ejaculated inside her and helped her up. The nurse took her blood and then led her outside. I followed and caught up with her at the door.
"You're doing the Naked Week too?" I asked.
"No wonder you were nervous. Where are you headed?"
"Oh, I'm headed there too. We must have never noticed each other."
"I usually sit in the back."
We got to class and she sat down between me and a guy I knew from the Political Union. I got him to offer her a cigarette, which seemed to calm her down.
After class she followed me back to the freshman dorms. "Is it always like that?" she asked.
"When you're more relaxed it's more fun, and there are things a guy can do to make it better for the girl. Do you ever rub yourself?"
She blushed. "No, mother says it's wicked."
"Ah, you ought to go out with a boy some time. If you want to meet me for lunch I can set you up with one of my suitemates. He might be a bit more your type than I am."
"Thank you," she smiled shyly.
I passed by Alice in the phone booth and went upstairs. Warren was in the common room, and I told him about Ethel. He was game for it and agreed to meet us for lunch.
By the time I got out of my next class it had warmed up enough that I was comfortable as long as I kept walking. My next appointment with Professor Drake went much better, and within half an hour I was waiting for Warren and Ethel outside the cafeteria. It took a little work to bring them out of their respective shells, but by the time lunch was over they seemed to have developed a liking for one another.
I excused myself and walked across the campus to my political science class. Just as I was leaving class, Professor Elliott tapped me on the shoulder.
"Mr. Bustillos, may I see you in my office for a moment?" He had never spoken to me directly before and I was somewhat surprised that he pronounced my name right.
He began leading me down a corridor.
"You've been making friends since you came here?"
"That's good. We always worry about socialization with the scholarship boys. Any plans for the summer yet?"
"No, sir. I mean, I guess it's a little soon yet."
"Indeed it is."
He opened the door to his office. Professor Walter was waiting for us. He was smoking nervously.
"Ah, Jim, glad you could join us. How's the Naked Week going?"
"Quite well, sir."
"Glad to hear it."
Professor Elliott cleared his throat. "Perhaps we would be wise to proceed to the main subject of the meeting. I'm sure Jim has places to be."
"Ah, yes," Professor Walter responded, "You see, Jim, I do a little work for the government on the side. During the war, I served as an analyst in the Office of Strategic Services. When the war ended Yale had gone co-ed and we were graduating a good number of female students who went on to become high school teachers. Naturally, these women would be well positioned to identify young men of particular scholastic aptitude and with the character traits that are particularly important in clandestine government work. Ms. Curran identified you as one such young man, which is particularly useful as there are certain situations in which we could use an agent of your ethnic background."
"And you want to recruit me for one of those situations?"
"Not immediately. The plan is for you to leave during the summer holidays. You'll need some specialized training before then."
"As far as the training goes," Dr. Elliott interjected, "I assume you're free this hour. I know you have Professor Drake's ridiculous little experiment in the evenings."
"I don't know why he keeps it up, now they aren't letting him do the deflowering."
I looked back at Professor Walter. "If you're working for the C.I.A., then why does the F.B.I. think you're a Communist?"
Professor Elliott sighed "Officially we are responsible solely for foreign intelligence, but we do carry out some domestic operations. Mr. Hoover and his friend Mr. McCarthy are too busy chasing down people who signed something they shouldn't 20 years ago to handle the real threat, so we've had to step into the breach. Naturally this involves some of the people we've recruited infiltrating subversive groups. The G-men trace them back to Yale, look at our research on sex issues, and assume it's a hot-bed of Communism, so they send a bunch of air-headed secretaries to keep eyes on everybody."
"I see, is that everything, sir?"
"One more thing," Professor Elliott handed me a file folder marked 'Confidential, ' "this is the background brief for your mission. Study it whenever you get the chance, but do not, and I cannot emphasize this enough, show it to anyone else or allow anyone else to read it."
"Understood. I assume what we've just discussed would be better off kept between the three of us?"
Professor Elliott nodded, "Ms. Curran was right about your discretion."
I tucked the brief under my arm and returned to my dormitory, wishing that I had a coat to tuck it under. When I got to my room, Charlie wasn't in, so I hid the folder under my mattress. I did some homework and then went out to the common room.
Charlie was seated on the couch and Alice was smoking by the window.
"Mother called this morning," she announced, "Father has an unexpected meeting in New York on Wednesday and they'll be stopping off here for lunch."
Charlie looked up. "But we'll be naked."
"I told her that, so they'll be expecting it. What I'm worried about is Jim." Suddenly, I was worried too.
"What about him."
"Well I'll have to tell them about him."
Charlie's face fell. "I don't see why Dad has to know about that. We're 18 now, you don't have to get his approval for every little thing."
"I don't think this is exactly a little thing, and if he finds out later he'll think we're going behind his back."
"What's wrong with going behind his back?"
I decided to interject. "It will go better for me if we're up-front about it. He may be able to accuse me of getting ideas above my station, but he won't be able to accuse us of lying."
"I guess," Charlie said warily.
"I have to go to my next appointment," I announced, "see you this evening."
After my next appointment, I ate a quick dinner and went to the Liberal Party meeting. They invited me out for drinks, but I wasn't carrying any money so I had to decline.
When I got back Alice was still in the common room. She looked nervous.
"Do you want to go to bed with me?" I asked.
"I thought you'd be all worn out from your job," she replied.
"I mean I am, but my hands still work. I figured you could use some relaxation."
"That would be wonderful, thank you."
We went in my room and got into bed together. I pulled up the sheets and began working on her. She seemed to relax instantly.
"Oooooh ... Jim, that feels so good. Thank you."
"It's my pleasure, really." I kissed her shoulder. "Not every guy gets to be this close to a girl like you."
"Mmmmmm ... Ohhhhh ... You're not every guy."