Part 6: Saturday

Chapter One - Jason

"Dad, can I talk to you?" I had been awake for thirty minutes or so before I heard people moving around, so I finally came out of my room.

"What's bugging you, son?"

"I... please... I need to know what's up with Mom. It's just weird how she's been acting... about... about The Program and about Jennifer and I."

"Maybe you should talk with her," he said, going back to his paper. "Don't you think?"

I stood there a moment before spinning around and heading to the living room. Obviously I wasn't going to get any more out of him. Far be it from me to come between my dad and his morning paper.

"Mom?"

"Yes dear?" she said, looking up from her crossword puzzle. It had been a tradition as far back as I could remember. Dad would always grab the business and sports sections, while Mom kept the front page and entertainment. He occasionally griped that she always finished all the puzzles, but it was all in jest. He hated word jumbles with a passion, and it was a rare crossword puzzle clue indeed if he knew the answer to it.

"Can I talk to you? Please?" I asked, hoping she could hear how serious I was. Apparently she could, as she sighed and set down her paper and pencil.

"Yes?"

I sat down beside her on the couch and took a deep breath.

"Is there something wrong? Did I do something? Did Jennifer? You've just been so angry, and I don't know if it's something one of us did, or if something else is bothering you, or... I just don't understand."

"I don't think it's any of your business why I behave the way I do," she said, clearly intending to end the conversation, and I found myself ready to scream.

"I think it would be for the best," I heard my dad say, and I turned, finding him standing in the doorway.

"But Nathan," she said.

"We've talked about this," he said quietly. "They need to know."

I felt like a tennis spectator as my head swiveled back and forth as the two held a silent conversation, one my father apparently won.

"Fine," my mom said. "I suppose you need to know someday." She paused for a moment before suddenly standing up, and I feared she had changed her mind as she walked out of the living room.

"Where's she going?" I asked my dad, but he just shrugged, as in the dark as I was. It was only a couple minutes before she returned, holding a large photo album. My dad starting nodding in recognition, but I was still very much confused.

"What's this?" I asked, as she sat back down beside me.

"This is my life," she answered, opening the heavy book. "At least until I was eighteen." She flipped through the book, carefully turning the yellowed pages, full of old black and white photographs.

"Is that you?" I asked, pointing to a large photo. Pictured was a group of ten or twelve people, none of whom were dressed in what I would consider to be modern clothes.

"That is me, and my whole family," she said.

"What?" As far as I knew, my step-mother had only one brother. "These are... was this a family reunion?" I asked, thinking maybe it was a picture of all of her cousins.

"No, these are all the kids in my family."

"I thought Uncle Matthew was your only brother," I said, again thoroughly confused.

"He's... he's the only brother who will speak to me," she said quietly.

"What? Why? What happened?"

"Maybe you should start at the beginning," my dad said. He had sat down on the other side of my mother, who was leaning against him, her eyes closed, slowly nodding in agreement. Whatever had happened wasn't good, and I felt kind of sorry for asking. I had thought I needed to know, but now I wasn't so sure.

"I grew up in Pennsylvania," she said. I nodded, I had heard this before. "What I've never told you, what I've always kept secret from all of you kids, is why I left, what I left behind."

"What?"

"You see in the picture, how everyone is dressed..."

"Old?" I asked.

"I suppose," she answered, a small smile playing on her lips. "It isn't intended to be old, although I suppose it does look it. I was thinking that practical is the best way to describe our clothes."

"Old, practical, whatever," I said, laughing. "What's with the hats?"

"Hats?"

"Yeah. All the girls are wearing hats."

"That was part of our way of life."

"What do you mean? What way of life?"

"I was raised in a Mennonite community."

"Huh?" I'd heard the word before, but hadn't really known what it was.

"Mennonite. It was an offshoot of the Catholic church which began back in the 1500's in Switzerland." She went on to explain how the religion had come to exist, and how each community tried to keep itself completely separate from the non-Mennonites in the area. Some of the more radical groups went so far as to be completely non-compliant, even going so far as refusing to pay taxes, which of course led to many problems.

"So that's how you grew up?" I asked.

"Yes."

"And what... you didn't like how strict it was and left?" She had said that was her life up until she was eighteen, and I assumed she had left when she was finally old enough.

"I was given the ban," she said.

"What?"

"The ban," she sighed, looking more sad and frail than I'd ever seen her. Tears began to form in her eyes and she began to cry, leaning on my father's shoulder for support. I sat there, watching the two of them interact. As often as I'd disagreed with my mom, and sometimes went so far as wondering what my dad saw in her, it was obvious they were in love. Finally though, the silence got to be too much.

"What's the ban?" I asked, impatient to understand why my step-mom was the way she is.

"It means I was kicked out," she said.

I sat there stunned for a moment. Her parents had kicked her out of the house? I couldn't quite understand it.

"Why?"

"Because I slept with a brother," she said. Her voice was ragged as she cried. Finally she composed herself, wiping her eyes with a tissue and looking at me. Her eyes were red from crying.

"You... you what?" I asked, unable to believe it.

"He wasn't really my brother," she explained. "In many Mennonite societies, children are raised by the entire community, and so Matthew wasn't really my brother, but... he was, in a way."

"Oh... wow... and they kicked you and... wait... Uncle Matthew?" I asked, finally beginning to understand.

"Yes. Uncle Matthew."

"What happened?"

"What happened?" she repeated, laughing sadly. "Love happened, Jason. Love, at least love to a foolish fourteen year-old girl. Matthew was a couple years older than I was, and I fell for him, and he said he loved me. We tried to fight it, but... we couldn't."

"How did people find out?" I asked.

"It's hard to hide a pregnant belly," she said.

"Jennifer?" I asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"Matthew and I met in front of the entire community, and were given the ban. We were forced to leave, but since I was still young, I was allowed to stay until I came of age. It was the hardest time of my life. After giving birth, I was again treated as a child, and Jennifer was raised as my sister instead of my daughter."

"So then when you were old enough they kicked you out," I said.

"Yes."

"What about Samantha?" I asked. "I thought Jennifer and Samantha were sisters."

"They are. While I was still living with the community, Matthew would sneak in, or I would... escape... it seemed like a prison to me, and we would make love. I was pregnant with Samantha when I was finally forced to leave."

I sat there, stunned at what I was hearing. I snuck a glance at my father. He had known all this, I was sure of it. One thing bothered me still, although I was afraid to ask it.

"What... what happened to Matthew. Why didn't you marry him?"

"I would have," she sighed. "But he had married by the time I was free from the community. I married my first husband, and he was wonderful. We never told the girls the truth. Jennifer was so young, barely three years old, when we left Pennsylvania. I don't know what she remembers, but she's never said anything, and Samantha never knew another father."

"Wow," I said, fully realizing what had been going through her mind this week. "So it reminded you of when you were young, seeing Jennifer and I?"

"Kind of," she said. "The nudity was so difficult. So difficult. Part of the reason for the old clothes, as you called them, is because a major part of Mennonite culture is purity. The human body was seen as dirty, or at the least a temptation."

"So the long dresses and heavy clothes were to protect you from what... from sinning?"

"Yes."

"Jeez..." I didn't know what to say. "Sorry."

"Oh Jason, it's not your fault! I tried so hard to leave my past behind me. For years I never told anyone where I was from. I made up a childhood so I would have something happy to remember, but it never worked. I still believe many of the things I learned, but... the past was so painful for me."

Suddenly I was in awe. My step-mother had gone through so much, and had never used it as an excuse... she had never even hinted at it. I stood up and turned to my mom, reaching a hand out to her. I pulled her to her feet.

"Thanks for telling me," I whispered. "I love you. Can I have a hug?" I asked, opening my arms wide.

"Always," she said. "Always."

Chapter Two - Jennifer

It took me a minute to remember where I was when I woke up, and in particular what that sensation was. It felt like something soft and wet was gliding over my pussy, and I squirmed under the sheets, realizing that Heather was nestled between my legs, her wet tongue lapping at my pussy.

Suddenly the night before came back to me... Heather and me on the bed, Heather eating me out, me tasting my first pussy.

"God, you're finally awake," Heather said, taking a long swipe up my moist slit. "I've been licking you for ten minutes now."

"What a way to wake up," I moaned, rolling my hips, trying to get her to touch my clit. I was wide awake and suddenly very horny, but Heather backed away, to my dismay.

"Uh uh," she said, shaking her finger at me. "Now that you're up we have to get ready."

I groaned, remembering our early practice session this morning.

"Can I have the shower first?" I asked. Heather laughed, waving her hand in front of her nose.

"You need it," she grinned. "You smell like... someone who should have washed last night." Heather paused, a smirk coming to her face. "You know," she said. "I could always wash your front if we showered together."

"Deal," I said, climbing out of bed and walking naked to the bathroom. Heather clapped her hands together once and quickly followed me in.

Showering with another girl proved to be a rather pleasant experience. The feel of Heather's slippery, soap-covered breasts in my hands was almost enough to really get my juices flowing, but Heather took care of that when she dropped to her knees in front of me.

"I just need to check and see if you're clean enough," she said slyly, as she slipped her tongue along the crevice of my mound. I grabbed at her head, forcing my slippery pussy against her face. I was excited, and it didn't take too long before I was screaming in my orgasm.

I eagerly returned the favor, enjoying the feel of her firm ass cheeks in my hands as I knelt on the tile floor, kissing and licking at Heather's bare pussy.

"I think I really want to shave myself bare," I said. "It's so smooth and pretty."

"And it feels great," she moaned. "Jason will love you even more for it," she laughed.

"I know he likes yours," I said. "I can't wait to feel his tongue on me after I shave," I said, shivering at the thought.

"Is he good?" Heather asked breathlessly. She was beginning to near her orgasm, and I nodded, not wanting to pull away from her steamy pussy.

"Mmm hmm," I mumbled. I flicked my tongue over her clit rapidly, then quickly sucked on her fat pussy lips as Heather thrashed above me in her orgasm.

By the time we had both recovered, time was getting short, and Heather had to hurry to get dressed in time to meet the team bus. It was fun showering with another girl, but it sure didn't seem to be any quicker.

The home gym we play in isn't small, but the arena the state finals were being held in was huge! It must have seated around twelve thousand people, compared to maybe four thousand. And it wasn't as if Kennedy Prep normally sold out for volleyball. Coach told us it would be a different experience for us, most noticeably in how we communicated with each other.

"You won't be able to hear each other as easily," he said. "You have to keep your heads up at all times, and don't rely on your ears." The first part of our practice was the same as we normally did. We started off serving, then moved to spiking, and finally to defense. The only difference was the loud music Coach had blaring from the loudspeakers.

We were running a little first-team versus second-team scrimmage when we heard some laughing and catcalls from just off the court.

"What's going on?" someone joked. "Can't you afford enough uniforms?"

I looked up and sure enough, a few of the West High Cadettes were watching us practice. West High is located in one of the larger suburbs of the state capital, and seems to always be one of the top volleyball powers in the state. We'd played them in last year's sectional finals, but lost in straight sets.

"Leave us alone," Heather yelled, walking up to one of the taller girls. "This is our court!"

"We're just watching," the girl answered back. "We practice in ten minutes, and just wanted to see what we're up against tonight." She grinned at her teammates. "Doesn't look like much of a fight to me."

"You want to fight?" Heather asked, her fists balled at her sides. I ran over to where the two girls were standing, toe to toe, and grabbed Heather by the arm.

"Come on," I hissed. "Let's go." Heather resisted for a moment, but finally allowed me to drag her away. The West High girls just kept laughing and hooting, but I ignored them.

Chapter Three - Jason

After my talk with Mom it was about time to get ready to head off, so I quick grabbed a book and my CD player. I think Samantha had a short talk with Mom, maybe similar to what our discussion had been. Whatever it was, Samantha was pretty quiet on the drive to the game.

It was a couple of hours before game time when we got to the arena, so the four of us grabbed a quick bite to eat and then headed in. Our tickets were with a group of Kennedy Prep parents, so we were seated right next to the court.

"Sorry," I said to my Mom as we sat down. I'd run to the bathroom to take off my clothes, since this was a school event, and The Program was still in effect for me. I knew this had to be difficult for my Mom. She had been to the choir concert and Jennifer's semi-final volleyball game, but this was the first time she'd come face to face with one of her naked kids.

"That's okay, Jason." She patted my hand lightly, drawing her hand back quickly when she realized how close she was to my penis. She blushed slightly, glancing down at me. "I think this is good for me," she said. "I need to overcome a lot of things that have built up, and while this isn't how I would have chosen for that to happen, it'll have to do."

We sat around, listening to each school's pep band try to outplay the other, before I decided to go grab some sodas. I was standing in line when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Jason?" someone asked. I turned and saw it was Susan Hazleton. We had met at the state semi-finals, when she had been selected to watch me to make sure I wasn't cheating.

"Susan!" I said, glad to see a friendly face. "What are you doing here? Did your dad send you to scout us?" I asked, teasing her.

"No. I wanted to come see you guys play," she explained.

"That's cool. Who did you come with?"

"My mom and I came together. I don't think I'm going back to my dad after what happened earlier this week." After the match her dad had gotten pissed at her, blowing up in front of the team and leaving her behind.

"That's probably good," I said. "Don't tell him, but I never really liked him all that much!" She laughed, but looked a little sad.

"I didn't either," she said.

We had worked our way to the head of the line, so I ordered sodas for my family, and an order of nachos for myself.

"Do you want anything?" I asked.

"No. I'm good. Question for you... how are you planning to pay for all of that?" she asked. I panicked for a moment, having completely forgotten I had no clothes, no wallet, and no money.

"Crap," I said, afraid I was going to have to run back inside.

"Don't worry," Susan said, laughing at my predicament. "I've got you covered."

"At least one of us is covered," I said, blushing as Susan made a point to stare at my dick, giggling as I began to swell in response.

She handed some money to the cashier and we returned to the arena.

My dad paid Susan back the money she had spent on the food, giving me a look as if it was somehow my fault I had no clothes on. We asked Susan if she'd like to sit with us, but she said her mom was waiting for her and left to find her.

"Who was that?" Samantha asked.

"Susan Hazleton," I said. "She's the daughter of the coach of the Rock Island squad." I explained how we had met, which Samantha thought was hilarious.

"She's cute," my dad said. I shook my head at that.

"She's nice," I said, "but we don't know each other all that well."

"I think she likes you," said my mom.

"What? No. She's just a nice girl."

"Really?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Jeez, you guys. What are you trying to do? Break me up with Jennifer?"

"I'm just teasing," my mom said, patting me on the arm. "But she is cute."

Aarrghh... parents.

Chapter Four - Jennifer

I was a nervous wreck as the minutes counted down until the final. At last the timer had counted down to twenty minutes, so we took the court to a huge round of applause from our fans. I spotted Jason and the family right away, of course. It was hard to miss Jason's white body in a sea of green and gold!

I waved, and quickly joined the lineup along with the rest of my teammates, waiting for a turn to practice spiking and digging and serving one last time.

"You ready for this?" Stacy asked. Stacy Nichols is the team captain, and she was making the rounds, patting us on the shoulder, slapping us on the butts, generally trying to pump us up.

"Got that right," I grunted as the ball was set for me. I took a three step approach, leaped and slammed the ball cross-court. Right off the line.

"Lookin' good," she said before turning to Heather, who was next in line behind me. "You ready for this?" she asked.

I grinned, running to the other side of the net to dig a few shots. Stacy's "you ready for this?" was an every-game occurrence. So far, we had been ready every game, but we all knew this would easily be our toughest match of the year.

By this time the West High team had joined us, and was in the middle of their warmups on the other side of the net. Like I'd seen this afternoon, the Cadettes were a tall team, taller than we were, and as I watched them spike it seemed like everything was coming straight down at me. If our front line wasn't on the top of our game, it could be a frustratingly long night.

I was watching as volleyball after volleyball came whizzing over the net when I saw the West High coach huddled up with a couple of students on the sidelines. I looked closer, and to my surprise and confusion saw he was deep in discussion with Justin Miller and Brenda Reed. I had a bad feeling about this, to say the least. It seemed like Justin and Brenda had been conspiring to make my life horrible this week, although I couldn't imagine what the three had to talk about.

It didn't take too long to find out however, as one of the referees came to our side of the court.

"Is everyone in uniform?" she asked, looking directly at me.

"Yes," Coach White answered. "Why?"

"I had to check to make sure," she answered, and walked away.

"What was that about?" I asked, but Coach just shrugged his shoulders.

"Got me," he answered.

Pretty soon it was game time, and the teams lined up opposite each other for the national anthem. My heart was pounding, and I took a few deep breaths to try and get myself under control.

The starting lineups were announced, and the six of us took our places on the court. We had won the coin toss, and were serving first. Before the match started however, the same referee blew her whistle and motioned a side-out and one point for West High.

"What?" Coach was up off the bench immediately, demanding to know what was going on.

"Dress code violation," the referee answered.

"What do you mean? We're all in uniform."

"Where's number fourteen?" he asked, and I groaned. I'm number fourteen, but of course I wasn't wearing it, since I wasn't wearing a uniform. Was this what Brenda and Justin had been doing? Trying to get us to lose? I was fuming, but raised my hand.

"I'm number fourteen," I said as the ref nodded.

"Point for West High," she said again. "Not all members in uniform."

"That's ridiculous!" Coach screamed, but it was to no avail. Before the match had even begun, we were behind 1-0 and they were serving.

We were all a little shook up at the turn of events, and before we had really composed ourselves, the scoreboard showed us down 6-2. Coach called a timeout and we all huddled together.

"Girls," he said. "You have got to concentrate out there! This is going to be tough enough without all this extra crap, so you have to be razor sharp. Pay attention, talk to one another, communicate!"

"Can Jennifer wear a uniform at all?" Stacy asked, looking at me. I shook my head as Coach answered.

"No," he sighed. "This is still under the rules of The Program, and she gets suspended if she does."

"After the game?" I asked, wondering how long the suspension would last. If it wouldn't be too long, it would be worth it to cover up.

"Immediately," he said.

Crap.

The whistle blew and we went back out on the court, still a bit frazzled, but much more determined. We quickly won the serve back, which put Andrea Mitchell to the service line. She has a wicked jump serve, tons of topspin, and she quickly served four aces in a row, and we were back in the game.

Once we were on a roll, everything seemed to come together for us. Stacy and I were murdering their hitters, blocking everything we could reach, and our back line players were getting to everything we couldn't block. There were a few tense moments, but we eventually won the first game 15-9.

As the last spike hit the court, we jumped up and celebrated, but quickly left the floor, running back to the locker room to go over strategies for the rest of the match.

Chapter Five - Jason

I was pissed, I was furious, I was... mad. I didn't know what Justin and Brenda were up to, but when we lost the first point before the match even started, I wanted to go down and strangle somebody, or maybe two somebodies.

"Can they do that?" I asked, amazed at what was happening.

"I guess," my dad said.

"How? She's naked because of The Program! Isn't that a state law or something? How can she... how can the team lose a point for that?"

"I don't know," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Obviously there are a lot of rules and regulations still in place that conflict with the basic premise of The Program. It will probably take a while to get all the kinks ironed out."

"We won the first game though, honey," said my mom, still unable to look at me directly. She was trying though, and I was proud of her... it was far better than the screaming I'd been used to from earlier in the week.

"Yeah, we won, but what happens now? Do we lose another point at the start of this game too?"

As it turned out, we lost two points.

"Repeat uniform code violation," the referee intoned, as the scoreboard flickered to show Kennedy behind 2-0 to start the second game. It was obvious that a lot of energy drained from the team as they realized that once again they were in a little bit of a hole right away.

To their credit, none of the players or coaches complained, although I saw some of the benchwarmers shooting daggers back at Justin and Brenda, who were sitting smugly a few rows up. None of the Kennedy fans were talking to them, but they were happy in their own world, it appeared, pleased to be able to get back at Jennifer.

The second game was much like the first, with West High taking a big lead, and Kennedy coming back to win a close one in the end, fifteen to thirteen.

Jennifer was playing out of her mind, blocking and spiking anything close to her side of the net. Between games I went down and chatted with Kylie Armstrong, the team's stat keeper.

"How's Jennifer doing?" I asked.

"Amazing," she answered. "She had ten kills in the first game and eleven in the second.

"Wow," I said. "That's out of control."

"It gets better," Kylie said, looking at the stat sheet. "Her hitting percentage is almost fifty percent."

"Fifteen? That's not that great." Hitting percentage is a stat used to grade hitters. Take the number of times their spike ended the point, subtract any hitting errors like out of bounds or into the net, and divide by the total number of hitting attempts to get the percentage. Top college players hit between thirty and forty percent, so fifteen wasn't that great.

"No. Fifty. Five-zero."

"What?"

"Yeah, she had twenty kills, three errors on only forty attempts."

"Wow," I said, very impressed. "That's great. That's... that's..."

"Great," she finished. Kylie chewed on her pencil for a moment. "You think they can keep this up?" she asked. "If this match goes the distance, we're going to be behind five to nothing at the start of the last game. That's a heck of a deficit to come back from."

"I know," I said. "I've thought of that too. But what can we do?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Hopefully something comes up."

"I guess," I answered as I walked back to my seat.

Truth be told however, I wasn't holding out much hope. What could we do?

Chapter Six - Jennifer

We got really lucky in those first two games, I thought. After the second game, back in the locker room, I had a thought. It didn't make me happy, but maybe it would be best for the team.

"Coach," I said, raising my voice over the chatter of my teammates. "Would it be better if I didn't go back out there for this game?"

"Why would you ask that?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Well, we'll be down by three points just for me showing up like this," I said, gesturing at my nakedness. Coach blushed, which I thought was kind of cute, as I pointed out the obvious, but I continued. "If I'm not out there we'll get to serve first, since they won't take that away. We only need to win one more game to win it all, and maybe it would be easier if I don't play."

"Not a chance," he said flatly. "No way. Who would you put in for yourself? Janelle? Theresa? They're good, no offense girls, but you're playing out of your mind tonight. Forget about it. Ladies," he yelled, calling for our attention. "Jennifer offered to sit out this game so we wouldn't be behind. I told her she should put the thought out of her mind. What do you have to say?"

There was a chorus of support from my teammates, and a few angry shouts about the stupid rule and how big of jerks Justin and Brenda were, but I felt better. They wanted me out there with them, despite my presence costing the team points, so I had no choice but do agree.

"Okay," I said. "Let's go get 'em, right?"

"Right!"

I felt energized as we ran back onto the court, but things quickly fell apart.

We knew we would be down three points, which we were, but then their same server got on the biggest roll I've ever seen, and even after using up both of our two timeouts, we were down twelve to nothing.

Coach bowed to the inevitable, and we went out with a whimper that game, falling fifteen to three.

"What now, Coach?" I asked as we jogged back down the tunnel between games. "Do you still want me out there?"

I don't know why I was so adamant about being pulled from the game, but it was the only thing I could think of to help. Thankfully, Coach was more on my side than I was, and again shook his head.

"Forget it Jennifer," he said. "Nothing would have helped that game. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't the ref's fault... we just couldn't return serve."

I shrugged, knowing he was right, and continued into the dressing room.