Chapter 6: PTSD

The girl on the other side of the spa's front window was probably five years old. Nearly flat on my back, the barbers' chair fully reclined, I was sprawled out like a frog on a lab table, my pussy in her face. Clutching her momma's hand she fidgeted, her kneecaps dancing.

She wasn't bored. Watching me getting my Brazilian wax made her eyes big. At least her pigtails didn't stick out like Pipi Longstocking's. She'd outgrown her yellow sundress with its short puffy sleeves, lace bodice, and too-short ruffled skirt. I hoped for her sake there was more fashionable or practical stuff in one of the bags by her mom's feet. Judging by the drift of shopping bags they'd hit every back-to-school clearance sale in the mall. She cocked her head to one side, not from surprise or shock but with curiosity.

That gave me something to think about. I did some numbers in my head. If I was right about her age, The Naked in School Program had started before she was born. So all her life she'd seen Program kids doing outreach. Lots of skinny dippers at the pool, both sexes, all ages, chasing Frisbees in the park.

God! What if she'd seen Dee's legendary performance, chasing a Frisbee wearing nothing more than a dog collar, cuffs and chains, her wrists actually chained together?

I wished I'd seen that myself.

No, the girl was probably too young. How time flies when you're having fun.

Mom, balancing a younger boy on her hip, might've been in The Program, or at least seen Carl walking the halls of Central High naked. The boy on her hip was bored -- or tired. Solemnly sucking his thumb he leaned his head on mom's shoulder, watching Lalita's assistant spreading warm wax on my naked pubes. Unplugging his thumb, the boy pointed and asked mommy something. She shrugged and shook her head. He plugged his thumb back in, curling his fingers over his nose.

ZZzziiiiipppp! Zowie! My spread legs did a froggy jump as a strip of pubic stubble was ripped out at the roots.

The girl's eyebrows went up and her eyes got even bigger.

Her mom winced.

The boy drooled.

I leaked.

The girl gave Mom's hand a tug and asked something, and got the same unhelpful response the boy had. Mom looked tired, her faded blonde hair was kinda stringy. She needed a pampering, maybe even a whole makeover.

That gave me an idea. They had questions, I had answers, and Alphonse had me in the front window for a reason. I got the receptionist out of her gossip magazine.

"Carol, why don't you invite that woman in? She's obviously exhausted, and the kids may need a bathroom."

She didn't take her eyes off the gossip rag. "We ain't got no public bathrooms. The boss says customers only."

I knew that was bull. She just didn't want to be bothered. "C'mon Carol! Sell her a facial or somethin' while I keep the kids amused."

Turning a page, she made her gum crackle. "You gonna watch 'em?"

"Why not? They're watching me. I don't have any secrets. They've been out there for at least ten minutes, and the mom is really bushed. Come on. Let her take a load off and get a break from the kids."

I turned the screw another notch. "They're potential customers. You know Alphonse says once we get 'em in the door they're as good as sold. You might even get a bonus."

Notice I said "might" and "get," rather than "earn." The day that girl earned anything would be the day I topped five feet. She was new at the spa, not the brightest or most energetic bulb in the chandelier. Maybe it was blood loss. She had so many piercings she was probably anemic. I figured she took the job to work off her debt at Alphonse's latest venture: Needles 'n' Skins: Tattoos and Piercings for the Sophisticated.

Sophisticated what? At least the sign didn't say "No Pain, No Gain."

Slouching out with a weary sigh, Carol asked. The woman looked dubious, so I gave her a reassuring smile, a "come on in" wave and pointed to the row of chairs. I even held out my arms, trying to tell her I'd take her son off her hip. That was an offer she couldn't refuse. She came in and I reached for the boy. She plunked him down on my tummy, thanked me profusely, and sighed with relief as she sat down.

Carol actually helped the little girl with the bags that wound up overflowing another chair. That done, her legs straddling mommy's lap, the tyke wound up facing me so she could watch. The boy bounced on my naked tummy and reached for my tits. Typical male.

"Why are you naked?" the woman asked. "I didn't think The Program started until next week."

So, she knew The Program schedule. Or maybe there'd been some sort of thing on TV. Naked teens still boosted ratings. Probably always will. Someone's video of me might already be trending.

"It does. I'm a cheerleader." I was a little surprised I was actually proud of that. "We've got our first game this afternoon."

The little girl squirmed. "I'm a junior cheerleader! We get to wear pretty uniforms! How come you're naked?"

"We lead cheers naked most of the time. It's part of the Naked in School Program." I felt like a dork, sounding so knowledgeable when this would be my first time.

"Why're you lettin' that guy touch you -- uh -- down there?"

Presumably she'd gotten the good touch/bad touch lesson. "Because I asked him to. Otherwise he wouldn't."

Her mom looked uncomfortable.

The boy bounced again, and pinched my nipples. Oh wow!

The girl watched Jason do his waxing thing. "What's he doin'?"

Her mom shushed her but I told her it was okay. "I'm getting waxed."

"Daddy waxes our car!" the little boy announced.

Whoop! There went another strip. The boy laughed from my reflex bounce. Between Jason applying hot wax to my pussy and the kid playing with my tits I was having a great time.

"This is a different kind of wax job. He's taking off my hair down there."

"Why?" the little boy asked, pulling on my nipples.

"'Cause I asked him to."

"Why?"

"'Cause I think it looks nicer." And feels nicer I thought, but didn't say.

"Why?"

The little girl saved me from the "why" trail we were headed down. Pulling her skirt up she lifted the waist of her panties to peek down at herself. "I don't have any hair down there. Jeffy doesn't neither. I've seen him. He has a little peedler. Daddy's got a great big one, and lotsa hair. So does mommy."

"You'll grow hair down there when you're older," I told her. "So will Jeffy, and his peedler'll get bigger, like his daddy's."

"At home we're trying to be more open about sex than our parents were," the mom said, blushing. "Put your skirt down, Skyler. Everyone can see your panties."

Yep, that was too open for Mom. At least Skyler was wearing panties. I'd regularly played naked in the sprinkler, and not just in the backyard. I smiled, remembering when Dee and I had taken a naked run through the neighborhood the morning after my sex-ed sleepover. We would've gotten it on right there on the front lawn but Beth Finch turned the hose on us.

As for Skyler's mom, I couldn't resist asking if she'd been in The Program in high school.

She looked embarrassed and shook her head. "I just missed it. It started the year after I graduated from South High."

"Oh! We're playing them today! Go Dragons!"

"So you're at Central!"

"I'm a junior there this year."

"I guess The Program's still strong there?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Isn't it at South?"

She made a face. "There's problems. Every year it seems to get worse. There's bullying, and other stuff. Some kids don't want to do it. But unless their parents opt them out with a good excuse they're forced to strip. Parents aren't very happy either."

"That's too bad. Any problems we have are dealt with real quick. Most kids want to do it. I do."

Then I remembered what Hadiya'd told me. "We're lucky. I have a friend who says she saw on the internet that Central has the best run Program in the country."

"Really! How do they manage that?"

I thought of Mrs. Devers and Ms. Andrews, and what the School Spirit statue meant to all of us students. But that was kinda vague.

"Great administrators, and we have a student advisory committee that helps. They sort stuff out, like reasonable request things or Program violations and suggest solutions."

I turned the question back to her. "Do you wish you'd done it?"

"The Program? I -- don't know. My parents were relieved I graduated when I did. Dad kept saying he'd take me out of school before he let that happen. But I think he's changed his mind since. Something about seeing youngsters like you might have something to do with that." She smiled. "My mother was more in favor of it, sort of, but dad made the rules."

She sighed. "The idea of being naked in school scared me. But it was exciting, too. Looking back on it now I guess I do wish I'd had the chance."

"Will I be naked in school mommy?" Skyler asked, still studying herself, while her mommy tried to pull her skirt down.

"Maybe someday," mom told her daughter, "if they don't cancel it before then. Now put your skirt down."

"Can I take off my panties?"

"No! Put your skirt down!"

The girl did, with a sigh. And here I was with everything on display.

Another strip of stubble went and my toes curled. I'd left this too long, or maybe not long enough. He had to tweeze out a few hairs that the wax missed. That really stung and made me twitch.

"Who's they?" I asked her. "Do you really think they'll cancel it?"

I didn't like that idea at all.

"It's on the agenda at every school board meeting. It's such a hot topic nothing else is getting done. My husband's even thinking of running for one of the seats to provide the voice of reason."

That made me wish I paid more attention to what TPTB were up to. "Is he pro Program or anti?"

The woman smiled. "It depends. If it's someone else's kid, 'specially if it's a girl, he's pro. If it's his own he's anti."

I laughed, giving the boy a bounce.

"You're cheerleading today?" the woman went on. "I don't envy you. There'll be demonstrators at the game, probably both pro and con. Watch your back. Things got really passionate over the summer."

I didn't like the sound of that.

"We've got neighbors on one side of us want to kill the program," she went on, "while on the other side they're fighting to keep it. It's so bad last time we invited both of them to the same barbecue it turned into a screaming match. They don't even listen to each other."

I muttered something about "religious nuts." Everyone always says they're the most passionate anti-program people, but I guess she heard me.

She shook her head. "The funny thing is it's not like the people who are against it are all super-religious fundamentalists or anything. None of our neighbors are big on church. On anything but The Program they're nice people. Sensible. And actually the people who are for it are the church-goers. But mention The Program and before you know it they're yelling at each other. I think it's more about how they were brought up about sex."

"How do you feel about it?"

"Sex, or The Program?" she asked with a smile before she got serious. "I don't know. I'm pretty much in favor of The Program I guess. In my class we had kids who got pregnant and had abortions or married too young. I married right out of high school myself. I was pregnant with Skyler. I'd rather we'd put it off a year or two, but it happened.

"If we'd only known more. The Program taught that stuff, I suppose."

"It does, and everyone who does The Program gets contraceptive protection, too, so it won't happen."

"So there's lots of sex."

I shook my head. "Probably no more than kids our age usually get up to. At least we know the consequences and are protected."

"I wish I'd known! But my mom and dad couldn't even talk about sex, not in detail. Their only advice was 'don't.'"

"Don't what?" I asked.

"Don't be alone with a boy. Don't let him talk you into it. Just don't! Bill, my husband, got the same advice. But one night the hormones were flowing and we did it without really knowing. The first time we did it he pulled out, like he said he would -- it was messy! -- but two months later we found out that was too late.

"I love my kids," she said quickly, giving her daughter a squeeze and kiss, "but Bill had to work some long hours to keep a roof over our heads.

"If you don't mind my asking, doesn't that hurt?" Skyler's mom asked, watching my legs spasm as Jason removed another strip.

I shrugged, glad to change the subject. "It stings a little. To tell you the truth, I kinda like it. My boyfriend loves it smooth down there. He likes to kiss my ouchie."

I could see a light go on over the woman's head. Not about to miss the chance Jason handed her a card. Blushing she slipped it into one of the shopping bags. Like Alphonse always says, once they're in the door the sale was as good as made.

"Are you Jeffy?" I asked the boy who was still toying with my tits.

He bobbed his head yes and diddled my stiff nips, making them get even stiffer -- and more sensitive. He giggled.

"You sure you don't mind him -- uh -- doing that?" I thought the mom was talking about her son's tittie twiddling, but she was watching Jason at work with his tweezers while the next strip of wax hardened.

"Not at all. I like it. Jason has a good touch. He should be almost done."

Jason smiled up from between my thighs. I asked Skyler how old she was.

"I'm five. Jeffy's only four."

Ahh yes. Lactation as contraception. NOT reliable.

Wow! There went another stripe.

"Skyler. That's a nice name."

"Thank you," the little girl said politely. I liked this family.

Looking up she asked her mom if she could go naked.

Her mom ignored her, saying to me "You look -- uh -- comfortable enough."

I stretched, feeling real sexy, not sure comfort was the right word. "I am."

"Mommy! I wanna get naked!" Skyler argued.

"You're too young."

That tweaked me. "How can she be too young? Uh, sorry, that was rude. But she was born naked. Personally I think the Naked in School Program should start in kindergarten. As soon as they're potty trained, even."

"You do?" mom asked.

"Sure. It's the human body. Everybody's got one. We should be comfortable with it."

"Pleeaaassse?" the girl begged.

"Would it be okay?" the woman asked Carol, who was back in her magazine.

Carol grunted. Her shrug made her rattle. I took that to mean "yes."

"It's legal," I assured Skyler's mom. "Lots of kids her age do it. I see them at the pool all the time."

"Oh! The pool! That's where I've seen you. You're very brave. You even go off that high platform."

"The ten meter? That's really fun! It's like I'm flying."

"You're very good! You're that Chinese diver I've watched practicing over the summer."

"Thanks." I was used to the national origin mistake. Oriental equals Chinese, or maybe Japanese in most people's minds. I'm proud of both my heritages. "Actually I was born in America. My parents are from Vietnam."

"Sorry," she apologized.

"Don't be. I don't mind." I forgave her with a wave. "I'm Judy Liu."

"Martha Robinson. Pleased to meet you."

I reached out and we touched fingertips.

Then she sighed. "The world is changing so! I hear there's even an Arab girl in Central this year. Do you know her?"

"That's Hadiya." I felt a thrill just mentioning her name. "She's in my class, in fact. But she's Pakistani, not Arab. I met her a week ago and we've already become good friends."

"But she's Muslim. What's she doing here?"

"Political refugee. A Taliban bomb killed her brother. Her whole family had to get out of Pakistan or they might all be killed."

"That's terrible!"

Tell me about it, I thought.

"But she is Muslim. You know, with the scarf and everything?" the woman went on.

"Yes."

For now, I thought, thinking of Monday.

"I hear they're very strict with their women. Does that mean she won't be in The Program?"

"Not necessarily. In Pakistan they're not so strict. Besides, it's her choice whether she's in it or not." I wasn't about to tell her that Hadiya was in the spa's back room, getting a full makeover for her NiS debut. One look under her scarf and Alphonse called his first string in, including a team from Needles 'n' Skins for some reason.

Skyler saved me from more questions. "Mommy! I wanna get naked! I'm hot!"

She was flapping her skirt. Hot? Yeah, right. This place was air conditioned. Naked feels better was what she meant.

"Pleeeaaaaaase?"

"Well, I guess it's okay," mom responded dubiously, looking at me.

I nodded encouragingly.

"We really should be going, but don't you get out of my sight!"

"YAY!" Skyler was off her lap, out of her dress and undershirt, skinning her cotton Pooh Bear panties down. Mom picked up and folded her clothes neatly while Skyler did a little happy dance that made her hi-tech sneakers flash bright red and blue. She was slender, no curves, with a belly button that was a bit of an innie, her pussy lips puffy between her slender thighs, and a lovely bubble-butt.

When I was her age I'd already given my crotch a workout on our back-yard persimmon tree. She'd might already have discovered the nice feelings of playing with her tee tee in the tub. She probably didn't have any idea it had anything to do with sex. Someday she'd learn it was more than just an itch it felt good to scratch.

"I wanna get naked, too!" Jeffy announced, so I helped him off me. He was out of his clothes as fast as his sister, his little pecker shriveled and soft of course. They capered and giggled.

His mom folded his clothes away, too. "Well, we'd best be off. It's been nice talking with you."

"Likewise," I agreed. "Coming to the game?"

"If we've got the energy."

The kids obviously did and said so.

"If I've got the energy," Mrs. Robinson corrected.

"Thanks for letting us sit," she said to Carol, who grunted into her reading material.

"Come on, kids. Take my hands. You carry these, Sky, and you carry these Jeff, and hold my hand. Let's get some lunch at the food court. Then we'll go to the park."

"Can we go naked there, too?" Skyler asked.

Skyler's mom gave me a smile. "I guess so, but not too much time in the sun."

"Yay!"

"Wait for mommy! Good luck at the game! Take my hand Jeff! And you help me carry these bags, Skyler."

"Thanks! Same to you," I told her, wondering if she'd be there.

The kids' clothes-free bottoms twinkled away. Mom kept hold of their hands, but looked down at them with a sweet smile. They were getting warm looks from the people around them. I felt good at having done some outreach before I was even officially in The Program. Mom's day out. Her husband was probably playing golf or something. Maybe he was waxing his car. I bet the car didn't enjoy the attention as much as I was enjoying Jason's work, and vice versa. Though maybe the buffing...

It was just as well they left when they did. Finishing up down there Jason had his face in my crotch. Lalita insists her tongue is the surest way to detect any lingering stubble. She taught him well. My toes curled.

I savored the afterglow as he combed out my waist-length hair. I was still reclined, practically horizontal, so it almost brushed the floor. Braiding would shorten it of course.

I must've dozed, 'cause next thing I knew there was a rustle and giggles. I opened my eyes and found myself surrounded by naked cheerleaders.

"What... ? How'd you find me? Where's Jason?"

"We're taking over for him." Donna was next to my head, looking sideways to me. Someone else's fingers started doing things with my hair. "We have our sources. Didn't you know? The Minute Spa's one of our sponsors."

"But..."

"Shush! It's a traditional pre-game makeover." Someone handed her a warm, moist towel. Draped over my eyes it blinded me. It felt good, but when I tried to reach for it so I could see they captured my arms.

"Think of this as an initiation."

That was Matt. Where'd he come from? What a show I was giving him! "But hazing's..."

"Relax. This is nothing more than the Scarlet Dragon cheerleaders' pre-game makeover," Donna assured me.

"It's about trust, remember? Consider it more team building," Matt added.

"While you and Matt were working on cheers yesterday the rest of us were here getting our own free makeovers," Donna explained. "It's one of the perks of being a cheerleader and boosts the Spa's business."

"I got mine, too, after we knocked off yesterday," Matt added.

Knocked off, I thought. Was that what happened in the showers?

Better than knocked up, my inner self snickered.

There was familiar tugging at my scalp -- I was getting braided -- only there were strange rustling noises along with it. Someone else was working on my hands -- and my feet! Make that four someone elses, at least. They'd ganged up on me. Actually it felt kinda nice. Made me think of a troop of baboons grooming. They weren't being rough with me or anything, just braiding my hair, playing with my toes and fingers. There was the smell of nail polish. Now someone else was toying with my tits! Nail polish on my tits? Not that I minded the tit touches. I relaxed as the blood went to my nips again.

"We're gonna make you a star. How's it goin' down there guys?" Donna asked.

"Almost done," someone down by my feet answered. There was the whine of multiple hairdryers blowing hot air on my toes and fingers. That was fast!

"Done here," the someone by my head announced. By her voice it was Willow, and I could tell Buffy was at my feet. The whole stunt team must have been working me over.

"Let's get her up. Careful of her nails." The dryers cut off.

"They're dry."

The back of the chair was tipped up, my feet going down. The towel came off my face and I was surrounded by them, and oh wow was Matt showing his interest! He didn't seem embarrassed, but out in the mall that'd get him some scowls. Not everyone approves of PDAs.

That's Public Displays of Arousal.

They already carried the school colors; the girls had scarlet and gold streamers woven into their hair, nails painted school colors. Scarlet and gold glittered on their chests, even Matt's. They could have hung a school pennant from his cock. An appropriately colored sweat band circled his head, his black Irish hair curling over it.

Roar Dragons ROAR! I thought, looking at myself in a mirror. I'd gotten the full treatment, top to bottom, all appendages and features, my hair, fingers, tits and toes in scarlet and gold. Something brushed my butt so I turned enough to see my pigtail in the mirror. Shiny satin ribbons were braided into it, the scarlet and gold standing out bright against its jet black. Tilting my head I swished it back and forth. The way the ribbons caught the light and danced and writhed they looked almost like flames.

I felt more a part of a team than I'd ever felt at the gymnastics club. There, while we we'd all been members of the same club and we cheered each other on, offstage we were competitors fighting for places in the lineup. While Bud and Natasha liked the internal competition, it made for lots of sniping, stupid brain games, jealous undercurrents. There were even some nasty so-called practical jokes, like leotards tied in knots, even dumped in toilets just before the curtain went up.

Here I didn't have that feeling, at least among the stunt team. It was all for one, one for all, like Bao had told me it was in the Marines. I couldn't wait to fly with these guys, fly for Central High.

Donna dragged us into a bunch, me front and center, our arms around each other, free hands raised, fingers in V for Victory. We mugged it up while Jason snapped away. Those pictures would wind up on the wall here, maybe even in the newspaper.

Donna grabbed me. "Let's go! Time's a-wasting!"

"Wait! I can't leave! Hadiya's in the back."

"Covered. Naomi and Cyndi are with her." Donna was pulling me along. "Don't worry, they'll bring her to the game. We've got a team meeting and warm-ups."

We flooded out of the spa into the mall, laughing and chattering. The only thing missing was the pompoms. Outside our Central High decorations caught the bright sun, making us blaze. We piled into cars all decorated with scarlet and gold streamers and headed off in a blare of horns, screams and laughs. I was pushed up through a sunroof, my pigtail ribbons tugging in the wind while it did naughty things to my boobs. A brass band, or maybe a loud speaker playing Roar Dragons Roar woulda been a nice touch, but probably required some kind of a permit.

We got a lot of waves and honks as we pulled out on to the main drag, cut through town, went past the park and library, and finally pulled into the parking lot near the football field and gym entrances. The locker room was a deafening tangle of squeals and giggles and dancing pompoms and chatter until Waldorf blew her whistle. After stretching together we gathered in a circle around her. I was singled out and she ceremonially presented me with my own pompoms!

They all cheered me, hugged me, and kissed me. So cool!

Waldorf was naked, too, and all-over tan. She's fit! Boobs a firm C cup capped with areola-nipple combos like small volcanoes.

Forming a circle we reached out, our pompoms making a solid ring of scarlet and gold around her. I got goose bumps. This was the first time I'd actually been with the whole team, with real pompoms. Even the vets were stoked. The frosh and newbies like me were as hyped as we could be.

The circle broke with a GO DRAGONS! scream and we dashed out onto the field, bouncing and dancing, throwing in handsprings and cartwheels, the home crowd already cheering.

I heard a few boos and "kill the programs" from the South side, though. Remembering Mrs. Robinson's warning about anti-Program demonstrators it gave me a chill.

Countering that was our band, Terrell totally awesome in his fancy drum major uniform. He had them pumping out "Roar Dragons Roar," the drums rum-tumming, cymbals clashing, the brass blaring and shining in the sun. I was so totally proud of him I got tears in my eyes and my throat tightened so I could hardly breathe. With Matt right beside me I was in an emotional snarl beyond belief.

The Game! my conscience reminded me. This is all about The Game!

We formed two lines for the team to run between, holding our pompoms high. As co-captains, Donna and Mimsy stretched a paper banner across the end of the lane, our Scarlet Dragon's jaws and flames on it for the team to burst through. As they shredded it there was an awesome bang from Boomer, the Jr. ROTC's signaling cannon.

As the team cleared our aisle we broke, heading for our places along the sidelines. I took off on a tumbling run like I hadn't thrown in weeks, all the way down to the far end of the field. It was insane! I got in a series of forward handsprings into a round off into back handsprings, tossing off three whip-backs -- more than I'd ever done at once -- ending with a twisting back summy, landing it with a step or two that would've cost me points on a floor exercise.

Matt finished up beside me. "Are you fucking nuts?!"

"What," I panted.

"You did all that on grass!"

"So?"

"What'd I tell you! It doesn't have the resilience of a gymnastics floor. None of the bounce. You could've broken your neck."

I flashed him an impish grin. "But I didn't!"

He was left shaking his head.

In case you don't know, whip-backs are like back handsprings, only my hands never touch the ground. Totally awesome! I was stoked!

We cheerleaders assembled in a line, shoulder to naked shoulder for the opening ceremonies. The high point was when our own Junior Marine Corps ROTC marched proudly down the field with the colors. I was glad for them, they'd really worked their asses off over the last two years to reach this point. I was relieved, too. Their dress uniforms were enough different they didn't trigger my PTSD. It was Marines in their dress blues that'd told us about Bao.

Wheeling into place facing us, Terrell cued the band and the guy carrying the school's colors dipped them in salute, just the way he should for the national anthem. Even the visitor bleachers were respectful, and the band sounded great.

The formalities concluded, greeted with whistles and hoots, we cheerleaders broke loose and went back to warming up the crowd. We pommed our poms and kicked up our heels, using our naked but patriotically decorated bodies to energize the fans and urge our armored warriors on to glory, trying to ignore the distant jeers from the visitors.

At least those jerks had respected the national anthem.