Kevin and Denise Naked in School
Chapter 1: A New School, A New Beginning

Copyright© 2015 by Ndenyal

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1: A New School, A New Beginning - A strong-willed, idealistic teen encounters the Naked-in-School Program. Will either ever be the same again? Kevin experiences the social, legal, and even some medical issues that Program participants face. Can he cope?

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   ft/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Reluctant   Coercion   BiSexual   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Public Sex   School   Nudism  

Here I am, once again preparing to register in a new school in a new country for a new school year. Did this lots of times in the past; too many times, but this time it's different in a number of ways. First, everyone here speaks English. Second, this is the first time that my parents aren't with me. Third, there are all these people around! There must be hundreds of kids! None of my former schools were ever this big. Next, there's ... Oops. Hold that thought...

"Hey, watch it, guys!" I shouted to the jostling crew shoving past behind me.

Man, none of the kids in my other schools were so rude. That was just a bunch of surly, angry-faced kids pushing past behind me, bumping into me, then disappearing into an office behind the counter.

Voices floated back: "Goddamn it though, why us first..."

I accepted yet another form from the secretary and began filling it out.

"Wow," I remarked, "I didn't think it would be so hectic today with people just registering and getting their classes and stuff."

"All of that happened last week; that's when registration and orientation took place—didn't you know that? Regular classes started today."

"Last week I was still in Jakarta. Didn't get here until Friday late morning. Your website said school began today and in all my other schools, the first day was for registration and orientation and stuff like that."

"And you also didn't send in any of the registration materials we mailed to you. That's why you need to fill them out now. The forms you sent in were the old ones. When did you get those from the website?"

"I got your paperwork off the site last spring when I decided to move here and printed them off and the fall school schedule then."

"Oh, that was all changed over the summer. Because you sent in all the old forms, that's why you need to do all these new ones. We mailed the new forms to you in the summer, you should have received them."

"When did you send them—oh, and where did you send them? What address?"

"Let's see, ok, here: it's an address—not sure how to say it—anyway, it's in Seoul, South Korea, and the mailing date was August 1."

"On August 1 my family was in Jakarta. I didn't get any forwarded mail, either." I didn't go into any painful details. "Are those all the forms?"

"Yes, but you'll need to see a counselor for your class schedule and also there are..."

Just then the intercom squawked. "Excuse me, son ... yes, Dr Fletcher?" ... Squawk squeak skrich... "Oh, let me check..." She went to a cabinet and pulled a folder; came back. "Transferred out. A week ago." Skrach skritch... "No, family moved away." Skrabble squawk squeak... "Ok, you can come look."

I wondered how she knew what was coming out of that little box, I sure as hell couldn't tell. Maybe they have a new language here—electronic-ese? A few seconds later, a portly looking man emerged from the room that those kids had entered a few minutes earlier and ambled over.

"Shirley, we need another junior boy ... oh, who's this?"

Shirley, now I know the secretary's name, said, "Dr Fletcher, this is Kevin Coris, he's a transfer entering the junior class."

"Ah, oh? Good! Mr Coris—Kevin—please come with me." He took the proffered folder, turned, and ambled back to his office and stood at the door waiting for me.

I stacked up the forms and handed them to Shirley. "All done?"

She nodded and motioned at Fletcher with her head. I picked up my backpack—it had some school supplies and my gym gear—and asked her if it would be safe on the chair outside Fletcher's office. She nodded. I went around the counter past Fletcher and into the office. It was quiet in there. Six pairs of eyes flashed at me as I entered. Dr Fletcher came in, closed the door and went to his desk.

I looked around at the room's occupants. Strange body language. The Arts train you to notice little things and body language is not a little thing, it doesn't sound like little whispers, it's a bellowing holler over the hush. The three guys were standing, scowling, arms crossed over their chests, and the three girls were flushed, hands twisting together, and looking at the floor. Really strange...

Dr Fletcher picked up a folder and looked at it. Then he reached for the intercom, pressed the button, and spoke.

"Shirley, didn't you call for Denise Roberts..." Just then, the door opened and a large adult male appeared, leading—no, make that dragging—a sobbing girl into the office by her arm. Fletcher told his secretary to never mind. The guy stood the crying girl in front of the desk and then went to stand at the door. The kids in the room looked at the scene and then all looked away in embarrassment.

OK. What the hell is going on?

"Ah, Denise. Good to have you join us. Now we can begin..."

"You're not beginning! I'm not supposed to be here!" she shrieked.

What the hell? Is this a trial for new transfer students to see how they react to a psychodrama?

Dr Fletcher slapped his desk. "Quiet, Denise, you are most certainly supposed to be here. You knew that you'd have to do the Program as soon as you came back to school."

She broke out in more sobbing. The other kids were still studying their shoes but I looked at the crying girl more carefully. Apart from her red, tear-streaked face, she was quite beautiful. She was a light brunette, about 5'5" tall, maybe 100–110 pounds, nice curvy chest, trim waist, sleek legs, a wonderful bubble butt—what the hell am I doing? She's in real pain and I'm scoping her out? This is not just a screwy scenario, she's being tortured and the other kids in here are hurting too! I have to do something. I hate to get right out in front of situations where I know nothing, but this is just too sick to let go.

"Dr Fletcher, please help me. What the heck is all this about? Why are they here, and why am I here? I first came into this building maybe thirty minutes ago. Surely I couldn't have screwed up already?"

"Uh, ah, Mr, uh, Kevin, right? These are the students selected for The Program."

As if that explained everything, right? The Program? He said the words as if they were capitalized.

"Ok, please clue me in, sir. Think of me like I just came from Mars—in fact, maybe Indonesia is a little bit like Mars. I have no idea what you're talking about."

All the kids in the room, Denise included, were now staring at me openmouthed.

"Kevin, it's the Naked in School Program, expanded like we covered at orientation last week."

"Ok, you got me there. Last week I was still in Jakarta; just arrived here Friday. You said 'naked' and 'school' together in the same breath. Does that mean that there are people who are in school naked?"

The others were now staring at me bugeyed and the goon at the door was smirking.

"Got it in one, Kevin, and the people who are naked are these students. And you, as well."

Denise began sobbing again. I wanted to just hold her and tell her everything would be ok.

"Ok, this is going a bit too fast for me. Can we back it up and take things in some kind of a reasonable order, like sequentially would be very nice, sir."

Chapter 2 »