Chapter 1A: Monday Morning, At School

"Just relax," Mr. Farnham whispered to me.

I nodded weakly. I was scared to death. I had never even been on a date, let alone had a boy touch me anywhere but my arms or legs - and that was in sports - and here I was laying naked on the teacher's desk with my legs spread and my entire Homeroom class, all twenty-one of them, gathered around. This was just so embarrassing and humiliating!

"We're going to do this boy, girl, boy, girl," he said to the class. "You'll each get about thirty seconds to examine her breasts and crotch."

Oh. My. God. I almost jumped up and ran out of the room, but Mr. Franham's hand on my shoulder steadied me. Plus, it wouldn't do me any good. I was in the Program. I was going to be naked for the rest of the week. Anyone who wanted to see or touch any part of me was allowed by The Program rules. I had to keep reminding myself of that even as I wanted to run out and hide somewhere.

"Paul Zabowski," Mr. Farnham read off the attendance sheet, "You get the honor of being first." A skinny, short kid in glasses and pimples stumbled forward to stop beside me, at the front of Mr. Farnham's desk. The teacher stood behind his desk on my other side, his hand still on my shoulder, giving me courage. "Put your hand on her breast, please." Paul hesitantly stuck out his hand and touched my nipple with a fingertip. Even though I was expecting it, I still jumped. He did too, snatching back his hand. The teacher smiled at us, "Go on."

Paul gently put his whole hand over my small tittie. "Wow," he said. He squeezed, and then slid his hand to my other tittie. "They're so soft." I watched, amazed, as his breathing became short and fast. It seemed like forever to me as he stood there rubbing my titties with his hands. I'm sure it seemed like only a couple of seconds to him. "That's enough," Mr. Farnham said. Both Paul and I jumped, startled. The rest of the class was dead silent. Paul looked at me, and startled me again, "Thanks," he told me, "That was nice." I just stared at him, at a loss for words.

"Sally Turner," Mr. Farnham called, "Come over here, please." Eyes wide, she stepped forward. "Paul, " he continued, walking to the end of the desk, dragging his hand lightly down my side, up my leg to my knee, "Over here now." I wasn't stretched out on his desk. I mean, I was on his desk, but... Well, when I first sat up onto the end of his desk he had had me put one foot at one corner and the other foot on the other corner, and then scoot my butt as close to the edge as I could get without moving my feet. Then I laid down. The result was my legs were stretched wide, exposing my crotch to anyone who wanted to look. Not by accident did that also pull my pussy lips wide and expose my vagina.

Paul stood between my legs and stared down at me, or actually, at my open pussy. He jumped slightly, startled, when Mr. Farnham said, "You can crouch down for a closer look if you want." He paused, "And yes, you can touch. But be very gentle." Looking down between my upright knees, I saw Paul slowly crouch. Ohmygod. He's actually doing it! I was ready to bolt up, but Mr. Farnham stepped back up beside me, again trailing his fingertips across my leg and side, reaching my shoulder only after lightly squeezing my nipple. I stared at him. Before I could say anything, he spoke to Sally. "Go ahead, touch her breasts. It's all right. You need to learn how it feels to be the one touching them as well as how it feels to be touched." She poked one finger onto my nipple at the same time I felt Paul touch my pussy. I'm afraid I jumped again, startling both of them.

With Mr. Farnham's encouragement, they quickly resumed their explorations. After far too much time, but only about thirty seconds, by the clock on the wall, Mr. Farnham called the next boy up, "Rich Santor." Sally reluctantly let go of my titties; she was using both hands and had the funniest expression on her face, then moved between my legs. "Wow," she exclaimed, "is this what I look like?"

Rich was stepping up like a basketball player reaching for the ball, when Mr. Farnham stopped him by saying, "Easy, be gentle." Rich paused, and then slowly lowered his hands onto my titties. A moment later I felt a warm puff of air hit my crotch, then a finger gently stroke down my vagina. Apparently Sally was taking a really close look. Periodically, Mr. Farnham would bend close to my ear and tell me to relax, things were just fine, and he wouldn't let anything more than this happen. Each time a kid let go of my titties, he or she said thanks, like it was some kind of privilege that I was giving them. It was nice to be appreciated and not just treated as a piece of furniture.

Finally, somewhere around the fifth or sixth kid to caress my titties, I began to relax and realized that all this touching was starting to feel good. A few kids later I heard someone, I think a girl, say, "Hey, she's getting wet!" The next boy stepped up the exploring by slowly inserting his finger inside me. I gasped in surprise, but then it started to feel good, real good. I just stared at the ceiling, getting zoned.

I couldn't believe this was happening. This morning I had been an ordinary girl, an invisible, mousy girl, just one of hundreds of kids arriving at our school for our first assembly in school after a very short three-month summer. Unfortunately, not only was this a new school for me, it was an entirely new town, an entirely new country! I knew nobody here. We had arrived here in Agua Azul only a month ago, after my Mom received a big promotion and transfer to the company's flagship Blue Water Desalination Project. It supplies millions of gallons of water a year to almost all of the Baja Peninsula in Mexico, and employs nearly 15,000 people, or so mom said. Originally a deserted coastal area, there was now a thriving town here. Because nearly everyone works for the company, and there were no existing towns, the company had built an educational system for the employees' kids. Mom said this was a plum assignment for her, and that the school had a new innovative curriculum that she hoped would do wonders for me.

I found that puzzling, as I had no problems in school. Not a straight-A student, but close. Mom said I was a wallflower and needed to get out and meet more people. But I don't know. I think I do all right. And I like reading books, mostly romance, science fiction, and mystery. Certainly the people in the books act more mature than any of the kids I know. Plus, books can take you away from your life, and show you a fascinating world where friends and parents are dependable. And if they leave, it's always for a reason you can understand. I prefer being the mouse in the corner no-one sees. Then I'm safe. The last thing I want is to be noticed. And so far, two weeks into the new school year, I'm invisible.

That means I don't have any friends yet, not that I want a lot of friends. The girl who called you her best-friend-for-life last week is just as likely to call you a bitch and a whore next week and spread the ugliest rumors possible, all in the name of belonging to the "in crowd."

I guess that's an advantage to being a Freshman at a new school, no one knows you. They don't know your history, they don't know your failures, and they don't assume you want them poking about in you life. And if no one knows you, no one will pick on you. There are no rumors to combat, no friends to backstab you, no teachers trying to 'help' you by bringing attention to your faults. I like being a bookworm.

"Welcome to Agua Azul High School. I am Professor Jackson, the principal." We were all in the auditorium, straight from Homeroom classes, not more than ten minutes in the building yet. "For those of you who were here last year, you know I am not the principal from last year. In fact, if you look at the faculty members behind me you'll notice that almost half of them are new as well." He went on for another five minutes about how this new program he was introducing would solve problems and save civilization, as we know it. Right. I tuned him out rather quickly and started checking out the auditorium. It was huge. I studied the lighting over head and tried to figure out how many ceiling tiles there were up there. I ignored the whispered conversations around me, pretending not to notice when someone tried to get my attention. That's part of the secret of invisibility; if you pretend not to hear or see them, and do it without appearing like you're ignoring them, they begin to not speak to you or notice you in turn.

"The Program is actually very simple," he droned on, "Eight students from each of the classes will be selected every week to participate in The Program for one week. These thirty-two Program Participants have both responsibilities and rights." I half listened, wishing I had a book to read. "Their responsibility is to comply with any reasonable request made by another student." That didn't sound bad. "Their right is to refuse anything they consider unreasonable." I sighed, and wished he would hurry up; this was bor-ring. After a few more minutes about penalties for students who screw up on the rights and responsibilities, all of which were "will be inducted into the program immediately for the rest of the week and the next week as well," he finally stopped. "Will the following students come to the stage immediately," he announced, and started reading names from a list. Mine was the third, Jamie Tietan. He even pronounced it right: tee-shan.

I gasped, there went my plans for being not noticed. I realized I had better get moving. That's another secret to invisibility, do things quickly, but not too quick, to escape being either first or last. I grabbed my backpack and headed to the aisle. There were sixteen of us on the stage in just a few minutes, all girls. He gestured that we should follow the assistant principal, Ms. Snow. She led us behind the curtain where there were sixteen chairs. On each chair was a basket with a nametag. I saw as I picked up the basket with my name and sat down that there was a booklet and a small towel in each basket. "Take your time, girls," she said. "Read the booklet." What was the towel about?

I could hear the new principal droning on in the main part of the auditorium. Well, at least I wasn't bored anymore.

I looked at the cover of mine. It said, in big type, The Naked in School Guidebook. Underneath this was a drawing of a man and a woman, both nude. Uh oh, this didn't look good. I vaguely remember the principal saying something about The Program striping us of our outward defenses, but surely he didn't mean... he did. We were supposed to strip and walk naked the entire week at school. Before and after school activities and events were included, even those on weekends. Refusal to comply would result in expulsion from school. And the reasonable request stuff, well according to the booklet everything up to, but, thank God, not including sexual activities or sexual intercourse were allowed. If some guy wanted to touch my vagina, I had to let him. If he wanted to stick anything there, I could say no. I felt really light-headed and faint. I know I swayed in my chair. They couldn't really be serious, could they?

I looked at Ms. Snow. She was watching us expressionlessly. For the first time I noticed several teachers standing with her, men and women. Ohmygod. They are serious. I heard several exclamations from beside me, mostly things like, "oh no," "no way," and "you've got to be joking." I knew better than to say anything. Keep your mouth shut Jamie! Don't attract any more attention than you have to.

"Okay, girls, take off your clothes please," Ms. Snow ordered. We just stared at her. "If you don't do it voluntarily, these teachers with me will do it for you." She paused, "NOW!" We all jumped, startled. Ohmygod. They are serious. I reached up and started undoing the buttons in the back of my dress. I was stunned. My first thought was, No, mom won't let them do this. Then I remembered Professor Jackson saying in his little boring speech that our being in school today indicated our parents had agreed to our complete participation in the program. I heard some of the girls starting to argue, but I knew they would lose. Abruptly, I knew why my mom had gotten that promotion, why we had moved here. I was crushed mom hadn't warned me. I fought back the tears I knew were coming. I felt totally betrayed. How could she let them invade my privacy like this? She knew I hated people seeing my body, even my swimsuit was a very modest one-piece. Even she hadn't seen me naked since I was eight! How could she do this to me? I hated her. This was just so humiliating!

The hardest part was not pulling my dress off. Removing my bra was the hard part. I have small titties and keep them hidden. No ittty bitty titty jokes for me, not if I can help it. I looked up and saw a couple of the men teachers staring at us. I realized they were giving each girl a complete look-over, staring first at her breasts and then at her crotch. Oh, god, this was so embarrassing, I could feel my face getting hot as I blushed when one teacher obviously stared at me.

One girl, at the end of the row of chairs, was saying, "No, I can't do this now." Not, I can't do this, but I can't do this now. Ms. Snow walked over to her. "Can't or won't."

"I can't! I mean," and her face got all red and I could tell she was near tears, "it's, I, uh, it's my uh... , " she mumbled something. Ms. Snow understood her. "Nurse," she called and a woman walked over with a cardboard box. All business, like she did this every day, she asked, "tampon?" The poor girl shook her head. "Panty liner?" The girl gave a quick nod, staring at the floor the entire time, embarrassed at what was happening. The nurse quickly and efficiently helped the girl strip then pulled out a white bundle of straps from the box. A moment later she stood back. The girl was wearing what could almost be mistaken for thong underwear, except the piece covering her crotch was about the width of a menstrual pad. Basically, it was a panty liner without the panties; God that must be embarrassing.

This byplay had allowed the rest of us to get undressed. Ms. Snow said, "We knew there was a chance that someone would either be going into or ending her period during The Program. If you don't use tampons you use the menstrual belt instead." Thank God my period had been last week.

"You may wear your socks and shoes or sandals, leave everything else in the baskets. Please do not go barefoot, we don't want any stepped-on toes or inadvertent cuts from stepping on things on the floor, especially in the workshops. You will get your clothes back at the principal's office this afternoon. Now, follow me." I slipped my sandals back on, relieved I wouldn't have to go barefoot. I picked up my backpack and reflexively held in front of me. So did all the other girls. Ms. Snow's mouth twitched in a quick smile. Bitch, she's enjoying this. "None of that girls, you can't hide behind your books or bags." Defeated, I put my arm through one of the straps and slung it onto my back. I said nothing, but some of the girls protested vehemently. I so did not want to follow Ms. Snow through the curtain. Thank God I wasn't first.

Just then one of the girls said, "Hey, where're the boys. He said there would be thirty-two each week." There was a chorus of "yeahs." Ms. Snow stopped, one hand on the stage curtain. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of male company in just a few minutes."

There was dead quiet in the auditorium as we walked out. God, talk about embarrassing, totally naked in front of a thousand people. For me, at least, they were all strangers. I didn't have some boy friends out there, or worse, some guy I had a crush on. Then the catcalls started. "Oh god, cover up that fat chick, she's ruining my eyes," "I'm gonna have black pussy every day this week," "Sixteen cunts, sixteen fucks, oboy, oboy." And they went on.

I was staring at the stage floor, trying not to cry, blushing bright red (I knew I was blushing because, looking down at the stage, I could see how flushed and red my tiny titties were). I could hear some of the other girls crying. This was supposed to build character? This was reasonable? This was why I worked at not being noticed. How does one hide when one is naked?

The volume abruptly started to die down and soon was dead quiet again. I looked up through my bangs into the audience and saw a number of teachers dragging students to the stage. Perplexed, I watched as they dragged almost forty boys onto the stage. I was surprised to see a few girls in the group.

A teacher with a kid in tow said something to Professor Jackson. The principal said, "Okay, Mr. Davis, you seem to have shouted something about 'sixteen sluts, sixteen fucks.' Well, that sounds like harassment to me. Mr. Thomas, please assist Mr. Davis in stripping."

"It was a joke, a joke," the kid said desperately.

Professor Jackson stared at the kid for a moment, "Sexual intercourse is not a reasonable request, and hence suggesting it is a threat. Calling someone a demeaning name is not funny it's harassment. I see you are of Spanish descent, how hard would you laugh if someone yelled spick at you? My decision is final." The kid looked stunned as the teacher led him over to the side of the stage.

A second teacher spoke with the Principal. "Ah, Mr. Powers. You were heard to say 'look at the tits on that redhead.' Well, while you aren't actually name-calling, you are calling attention to a physical feature which could be considered harassment if you were disparaging her. Because the red-head," the Professor Jackson looked over at our pathetic group, "is rather well-endowed, I'll give you the benefit of a doubt. Return to your seat and think carefully next time before you blurt something out. At the very least make sure it is obviously a compliment."

That was why the boys had shut up in the auditorium, the smarter ones had noticed the teachers pulling the loudmouths out of the seats and figured something was up.

It took about three-quarters of an hour, but we ended up with a group of twenty-one naked boys at the other end of the stage. All were embarrassed, all sported erections. Some of them kept trying to hide their privates behind their hands, but a teacher always interfered, just as they had with us. I had never seen an erect penis before, except on a computer screen, and here I was looking at twenty-one of them. I knew I was blushing, but the variety was intriguing. I kinda wished I could get a closer look. I was too embarrassed to outright stare, but I practically strained my eyes looking sideways. It was kind of a turn on, you know? There's nothing like someone else's problems to take your mind off your own. Oh, we also added two more girls. Their loud catty comments had been ruled harassment.

"Two last rules," Professor Jackson stated, "First, I'm sure every student here today has a cell-phone, a PDA, or a something similar. You may carry a cell-phone with you, but it cannot be turned-on and used in the school during school hours or it will be confiscated. Camera and video-phones are strictly forbidden. If your PDA has a camera, get a new one that doesn't. If you are seen to have one of these in your possession on school grounds at any time it will be confiscated and a $500 fine imposed. The second time it happens, the fine will be $5,000, the third time, expulsion.

"Second, you may not take pictures of Program Participants without express permission from Ms. Snow or me. The fines for doing so are $500 the first time, $5,000 the second, expulsion the third. "Ladies, Gentlemen," he turned and looked at our two groups on the stage, "If you see someone taking a picture of a Program Participant tell a teacher immediately."

Then Professor Jackson dismissed everyone to their Homerooms, except us girls. As the naked boys started to leave the stage one walked over to the heavy-set girl he had insulted and, amazingly, apologized.

The principal came over to us. "Ladies, I'm sorry we had to do it this way. I know it was hard on you, especially the name calling, but this was the only way I could show everyone we were serious about the penalties for breaking the rules. I'm sure there are still a few who haven't gotten the message and we'll be adding them to the Program throughout the week." He paused a moment and I noticed that there were a bunch of teachers still on the stage. I recognized Mr. Farnham, my Homeroom teacher.

Professor Jackson continued, "I know you think this is terrible, but by the end of the week you will consider this to have been a positive experience." He smiled, "Not that you would have volunteered for The Program knowing that. I also want you to know that at any time you can come to see me, Ms. Snow, or any of the school counselors. The counselors, by the way, are all experienced professional psychologists, unlike the counselors you may have had in other schools. Try to enjoy your day and the rest of the week." He nodded to us and walked off.

The teachers came over and sorted us out. A minute later I was walking down the hall to Homeroom with Mr. Farnham. Being the last ones out of the auditorium meant the halls were pretty empty. That meant no boys to see my naked body, no boys to make requests. Thank God for small favors.

As we approached the Homeroom, he stopped. "Jamie, I know this is hard for you to accept, being naked in school. And the Reasonable Request rule will take a little getting used to. So I have a suggestion, if you're willing to trust me." I just stared at him. God, here I was in the school hall, naked, embarrassed all to hell, betrayed by my mother, talking to a teacher as if it were a normal school day. Not that I usually talked to teachers except in answer to direct questions in class. I didn't trust anybody right now.

"Well, here's my idea. We have about twenty minutes left in second period. Let's use that time to let the class get a good look at you, and touch you. Maybe if they get it out of their systems now they won't bother you later. Plus, you'll have a chance to get used to being examined and touched while I monitor things, instead of you being in the halls by yourself. I'll keep anything from getting out of hand, and if you want to say no to something unreasonable, I'll be right there to back you up."

I nodded, slowly. Yeah, that might work. And, with Mr. Farnham right there, I might not chicken out and get into trouble for refusing a Reasonable Request. In addition, what choice did I have? The Program booklet expressly said that any request from a teacher was a Reasonable Request. He simply could have ordered me to do it. At least he asked nicely.

And that's how I ended up laying on my teacher's desk with my legs spread.

I suddenly realized that even though there was a really nice finger sliding in and out of my very wet vagina, no one was touching my titties. And oh boy was I turned on! I opened my eyes and saw there was no one in front the desk, or coming up to it. Mr. Farnham, though, still had his right hand on my shoulder. I'm a virgin, but I still knew I was really close. In fact, I was too close to just let it go. I grabbed his hand and moved it onto my left tit, and squeezed. He looked down at me, surprised (he had been looking at the boy currently stroking my very wet vagina). Then he started rubbing my nipple. Oh my, that felt good. I grabbed his left hand, which was resting on his desktop, and placed it on my tummy and sighed as he started caressing me. Oh. Wow. This was way better than when I did it to myself in bed at night.

The next thing I noticed was that the finger in my vagina had disappeared. Oh, God I was so close! I looked up at Mr. Farnham. He had this distant look in his eyes, like he was concentrating on something else. I grabbed his left wrist and slid his hand down into my crotch and started rubbing it against my vagina. He got the idea and his fingers quickly found the button that the kids had grazed only by accident.

It happened in seconds. I arched my back, pressing my clit against his finger and clamping my legs tightly together, trapping his arm. Then I sat up and wrapped myself around his left arm, humping frantically. I heard myself going, "Ummmmmmm, ahhhhh, ummmmm, ooooohhhhh." It seemed to last forever, but was probably only seconds. I started to come down, a happy warm glow suffusing throughout my body. I slid back down onto his desk, limp. My legs were hanging off the desk, but I didn't care. I smiled up at him, content. Oh. My. God. That was the most intense orgasm I had every had, and I had Mr. Farnham to thank for it. He was staring down at me, stunned.

I heard a noise and turned my head to look, the whole class was staring at me, with mouths open in shock. The noise I had heard was a girl in the front row. She had her skirt pulled up and her hand in her panties. And she was having her orgasm. Oh. My. God. I had just had the best orgasm ever IN FRONT OF MY ENTIRE HOMEROOM CLASS!

Ohmygod. I'm in a new school, a High School, I'm a Freshman, and I've just shown everyone in the room that I'm a complete slut. It'll be all over the school before the day is out that that mousy girl has the morals of horny rabbit. Oh, man, talking about being so not unnoticed. I rolled onto my side, away from all those staring eyes and curled up, with my hands over my face. I wanted to find a corner and die. I could feel the tears pouring down my cheeks. Oh, God, Jamie Tietan, School Slut. That's what everyone would think for the Next Four Years.

Vaguely, I heard Mr. Farnham's voice. "Boys, girls, we have a problem here and I need your help." Yeah, like could you make the last twenty minutes disappear? "Up 'til now, what Jamie just did was a very personal and private thing. Perhaps, she has even been told that it is dirty and nasty. And she now feels very embarrassed and upset that we saw her." I wanted to plug my ears, but I couldn't move. I was afraid of what he was going to say, and I was afraid I would miss it. I had to know the worst.

"So, do you think she should be embarrassed about this?" There were a few scattered 'no's. Ah, shit, I could see the next four years being a hell-on-Earth for me. "Come on people, she can't hear your brains rattling when you shake your heads. Do you think she should be embarrassed?" This time the "no." was very loud, sounding like the entire class had responded. They didn't think I was a slut?

His hand on my shoulder again, he shook me lightly. "Listen up Jamie." He addressed the class again. "What do you think of what she did? Paul?"

"Uh, I thought it was wicked cool. I've never seen anything like that." There were a few "yeah's" added to that from the class. A girl spoke up, "I think she's brave. I could never have let everybody look at and touch me like she did, and then, well, I've never had a, well, you know, like she did. That was really intense." I just knew they were teasing me, but I couldn't resist sneaking a peak over my shoulder. Rich was standing a few feet away and when he saw me looking at him, he gave me a big smile, a thumb's up hand sign, and said, "That was awesome, I'll never forget it." He won't?

"Really?" I whispered, starting to straighten out from my curl. Mr. Farnham put his hand on my back and levered me up into a sitting position on the end of his desk. I wiped at the tears, trying to get them off before anyone saw them, but I knew that was silly.

"So," Mr. Farnham said, "You think she was brave for letting you examine her the way you did. You think watching her give herself an orgasm, with my help, of course," a few girls giggled nervously, "was also brave. That her orgasm itself was awesome, cool, incredible, and unforgetful, but definitely nothing to be embarrassed about?" A lot of people in the class said "yes."

I was amazed. They didn't think I was a slut! Then the passing bell rang. Everyone scrambled for their bags and stuff, but before heading for the door, most of them came up to me and said things like, "Awesome," "Thanks for letting me do that," "Yeah, thanks," and "Intense, girl, intense." I was well and truly amazed.

Mr. Farnham kept his hand on my shoulder and used a light pressure to keep me from leaving immediately. "Wait a couple of minutes for the halls to clear, that way you won't get as many requests on your way to your third period class." After almost everyone was gone he said, "Just think, Jamie, every boy in class today is walking down the hall with an erection that you gave him. Every girl is wet from watching what you did. All of them will be thinking of you tonight when they go to bed. That seems to be something to be proud of."

I looked up at him for several moments, I wasn't sure I believed him. "Thanks, Mr. Farnham," I mumbled, still numb and unsettled. He helped me off the table; it seemed easier to slide off than when I got up on it earlier. I saw why when I turned around. The edge of the desk was drenched with my juices. I know I turned bright red. I pulled out the towel I had been given and started to wipe his desk with it. "No," he said, "don't do that. The towel is for the cold chairs, and to keep them clean for the next student. I have some paper towels." I nodded, picked up my backpack, and started for the door. "Oh," he said, "By the way, you taste great." I stared, astonished as he put his left index finger in his mouth and sucked it. Ohmygod.