Chapter 11

JOHN

When I arrived at the Art Materials room, there was an ominous sight. The table, camera, and screen were there like before, and there were a number of cut away molds on the table. But there was also a somewhat beat up recliner next to the table, and a few buckets next to the recliner. The recliner had a beach towel on it.

Class started, and Ms. Johnson began talking about Alginate (the stuff dentists use to make dental impressions). There are two kinds: a powder that you mix with water, and a sort of opaque gel that you mix with a catalyst. She talked about the trade offs, then called me up to the front of the room. She had me sit in the recliner and lean back. I had a bad feeling about where this was going.

I was wrong. Again.

As she mixed a batch of alginate, she talked about life masks, and their use in theater and arts. She took two halves of a plastic straw, wrapped some cotton around one end of each, and had me stick them up my nose. She put a plastic apron over my body, and a shower cap on my head. She smeared some stuff over my eyebrows. Then she poured the green gloop over my face and neck, spreading it in a thick, even layer. She then talked about how rubbery it would be when it hardened. She talked about mixing plaster, and said that plaster bandages could be used instead. She poured the plaster over the alginate, spreading it.

While all that set, she went on to talk about lost wax casting. She apparently used the molds from the table to illustrate her talk. In an aside, she promised to show them to me after I got the stuff off my face.

When the plaster was applied, the alginate had started getting cool to the touch. A little while after that, it started getting pleasantly warm.

After what seemed like several hours, she had me put my hands on the mask, then sit up in the chair. Then she had me lean forward, and got the mask off of me. There it was: a perfect, inside-out, green image of my face. She took a couple of clay plugs and blocked the holes from the nostril straws. Then she poured the mask full of plaster.

She said she would take it out when it was done, and show it to us on Monday. Then she dismissed the class. She showed me the samples from earlier, then reminded me to stop by the office before I left. She also wished us well for the talent show.

As we headed out the door, Emily commented "One last time!" She was right. Barring some last minute extension, this would be our last naked walk through the halls of the school. Tonight, we would be staying in the theater, and we did not have any school activities this weekend.

The walk to the office was like the last couple of trips to class. People acknowledged us in passing, complimenting us on the morning show or wishing us well in the evening. No leering, no Requests, no insults. There were pockets of activity around some of the other Participants, especially some of the "late starters". And that activity was clearly sexual, and clearly voluntary.

How could something make me feel so good but so bad at the same time?

When we got to the office, I was given an envelope with a jewel case and some papers in it. It was the video from HHS and the releases. Emily made a comment about wanting to be there when my parents watched it. I grumbled that she was welcome to my seat.

When we walked out the front door, there was a larger than usual crowd. A couple of people were quietly dressing, and were ignored by the crowd. A few others were playing with the crowd, even throwing themselves at them. Susan was prominently among them. When we stepped through the door, there was a momentary surge of excitement. They were there to be entertained, and we were known as entertainers. When we moved toward the clothes, there was a major wave of disappointment through the crowd. Either way, we would not be ignored. We could either leave on a high note or leave behind a large, unhappy audience.

The Magicians were back.

Emily approached a nearby boy with a look of comic disgust. "Eeeew! What is that sticking out of your nose?" She reached up and apparently pulled a string of silks out of his nose. Then it was stuck. After pulling harder a couple of times, she pulled out the last silk, in the shape of a pair of bright red, bikini cut panties. She held them up, looked at him, looked at them, and looked at him again.

"If you have to sniff them, at least hold on to them while you're doing it!" She tossed the bundle over her shoulder, to me. He turned a very satisfying shade of red, while his friends laughed.

While she was doing that, I had quietly put on my underwear and pants. She was at the point of throwing the bundle before I could put on my shirt, but that was ok. I went up to a girl I knew was a good sport, and apparently pulled some money from her cleavage. Then I pulled out a couple of blank credit card slips, and commented that I really didn't want to know where they slid the card. She feigned shock and indignity, but couldn't help the smile, and then laugh, that followed. A boy started teasing her about "selling it", so I reached down and pulled a long rubber snake out of his pants. "You know, that's not what they mean when they talk about a trouser snake!" I quipped.

He blushed, then laughed. Emily tossed me my shirt, and I slipped it on. We bowed, then headed home.

As we walked toward the street, we saw Mrs. Conway sitting in her car. She was staring at Susan's wild ride in shock and anger. And probably a few more emotions, as well.

We decided it was a good idea to quietly avoid her, and walked our separate ways home.

This time I was not all that surprised to find Dad home. He called out a greeting to me from his home "office", And continued clicking away at the computer. I went upstairs and put my school stuff on my desk, then went downstairs and loaded my bookbag for contingencies at the talent show.

One of the reasons we were second to last is that we were flexible on time. While we already had the act pared down as much as we reasonably could, we could easily expand to fill quite a bit of time. With little more than the things in our bags and those already at the theater, we could do about a two hour show without getting boring or repetitive. On the other hand, we know some people who could do the same with a couple of decks of cards, a few coins, and a length of cotton rope. Well, and the availability of a pair of scissors or a sharp knife. Good magic, even great magic, does not require a lot of big props or elaborate gimmicks. Some of the real artists can take the simplest tricks, with the most mundane, unprepared materials, and make them wonderful.

We are not that good. Yet. But we are good. And some of our creations are even better in the hands of more experienced performers.

I went up to the living room and found Mom home. She and Dad were in the kitchen, working on an early dinner. I noticed the smell of roasted or baked chicken, which meant that it must have been in the oven when I got home. Traditionally, we have a light meal the evening before a show, and then go out after the show for something good. Tonight would be no exception. It looked like we would be having rice, salads, the chicken, and something for dessert.

Mom told me that I had time for a short nap, if I wanted. It seemed like a good idea - it would be a long night. I kicked off my shoes, and flopped on the bed. A few seconds later, I woke up to the sound of my mother calling me to come down and eat.

I quickly washed my hands, then headed down. I was hungry (hey, gimme a break! I'm a growing boy), but I kept my portions small. I did not want to add digestive problems to the combination of pre-show jitters and uncomfortable nakedness I would be feeling. Our conversation over the food was also light. Dad mentioned the fact that there would be changes to the procedures of the Program Committee at our school, but we wouldn't see much of a difference. I mentioned the HHS DVD and release forms, and that they were on my desk upstairs. We had discussed them a little yesterday, so they were not surprised. Mom complained of a circuit design at work which was not cooperating. Pretty much the usual family chatter.

We had small pieces of apple pie for dessert, with the understanding that there would be other treats after the show. We just had different ideas of where those treats would be.

"About that party after the show... have you thought about it?"

"Yes. And I still plan to give it a pass. I haven't gone to any other school related party in the two years I've been there, or even the three years I was in middle school. So what makes you think I would suddenly change that for any party? Much less one I would have to attend stark naked?" I dropped my fork to the plate. Suddenly, even that little piece of pie wasn't all that attractive.

"We thought... after your week in the Program... well, most people feel more social... we thought you might change your mind." They were almost talking over each other, verbally stumbling while trying to get it out. These were two highly educated, successful, confident adults, but they were reduced to babbling.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not 'most people.' If anything, I am less social now than I was a week ago, less comfortable with even brief casual nudity, and according to the questionnaire I had to fill out, less sexual. I would have nothing to gain by going to the party under normal circumstances. But going there tonight, stark naked at that, would be like pouring salt in a large open wound. No thank you!"

I dove deeper in my safe place, slowed my breathing, and generally calmed myself down. "What is it about that stupid party that has the school - and you - so worked up?"

"Well," my dad started, "it's like this. You are up for that award. And there is a lot of attention on the school and on you because of what happened Monday. If you win that award later this year, that would reflect well on the school. They would ride the coattails of your glory. So it's in their best interest to do whatever they ethically can to help you win that award. They feel that pictures of you at that party would help the cause."

"And they have reminded us that it would benefit you, as well." Mom continued. "In addition to the national recognition, there is a very generous scholarship and a lot of prizes. And with the exception of a couple of religious schools, every college and university in the country looks very favorably on such winners. In the ten years they've run the award, every one of the top three winners has gotten into his or her first choice school."

"It's no good," I snorted. "If they don't have enough already, the party pictures wouldn't help. And even if they would, photos of me having a miserable time would be counterproductive!"

"The purpose of these parties is to pay attention to each other, and I don't like attention. Sure, I like people paying attention to the Magician, but he isn't me. And now you've let it slip that there would be even more focus, more attention than usual for such things. No thank you. You're my parents, and I suppose you could force me to go. But you're intelligent people, for adults, and you know it would not turn out the way you wish it would. Or the way the school people wish it would. Excuse me." With that, I stood up and headed upstairs for a quick shower.

EMILY

When I arrived at Art Materials, my heart sank. The table, camera, and screen might be ambiguous, but the lounger next to the table could only mean one thing: live casting model. All things considered, it would probably be me. The only question was north or south? And if south, front or back? Or both?

Of course, I was wrong about all but the model part. John ended up in the chair, with green gloop (alginate) on his face and white gloop (plaster) over that. Then we talked about lost wax casting, which is pretty cool. All too soon, John was free, we had our weekend assignment and the materials we would need, and it was time to go. Ms. Johnson told John to stop by the office before leaving, and wished us well in the show.

On our way out the door, I braced myself for our (hopefully) last naked walk down that hall. "One last time!" I told myself. Out loud. Oops.

John nodded thoughtfully. Mostly, it was the usual Friday frenzy. But none of the nymphs or satyrs approached us. Some people greeted us as they (or we) rushed by. But all they did was compliment us on the morning show or wish us luck for tonight.

An irrational part of me was disappointed.

At the office, John got a large envelope. He told me it was the video from Health and Humiliation, Sexual, and the release forms to let the world see it. Thinking about what he had told me about yesterday's class, I had this horrible image in my mind. "Ooh, I would love to be there when your folks review THAT video. Just to see their faces!"

"Good. You can take my place." he muttered.

When we got to the front door, there was a mob outside. I was worried about what was going on, since it was far bigger than any Friday crowd I had seen. As we watched, a couple of the midweek draftees went out and quietly, if somewhat nervously, dressed. With the exception of a friend of theirs, the crowd ignored them completely. I saw Susan near the middle of the crowd, frantically frolicking in a frenzy of feeling hands, mouths, and other assorted body parts. A couple of others were engaging in similar activities, if somewhat less spectacularly. But the crowd as a whole seemed to see them as a side issue. Nothing more than an amusing distraction. They were waiting for something else. And I had a horrible idea that it was us.

I almost turned and ran, but instead I just dived deep in my safe place. That helped me calm down a little. If they were waiting for us, they weren't really waiting for US. They were waiting for the Magicians.

I got my Magician ready, and we moved out. The crowd tensed in anticipation when they saw it was us. I had brief visions of them tearing us apart for some reason, but that didn't happen. We took a step toward the clothes, and the mood shifted. They looked disappointed, cheated. With a glance at each other, we turned back as the Magicians.

One of the boys at the front of the crowd had a reputation as a perv. I palmed a load from my bag, then stepped up to him. "Eeeew! What is that sticking out of your nose?" I reached up with both hands, holding his nose with one and pulling with the other. I pulled out the traditional chain of silks, each one tied to the next. When I came to the end, I pretended to have trouble getting it out. When I finally pulled it free, it was the panties I had made from a couple of silks. The silks were small to begin with, so the panties were rather a briefer cut than I wear.

Then I delivered the punchline: "If you have to sniff them, at least hold on to them while you're doing it!" I tossed the bundle of silks over my shoulder to John. My victim turned almost as red as the panties. His friends laughed, recognizing that I had scored a bullseye.

John stepped around me, dressed from the waist down. While he distracted the crowd with a couple of effects, I got dressed in peace. I grabbed his shirt, and stepped up beside him just as he was dropping a rubber snake in his bag, to the laughter of the crowd. He finished dressing, and we bowed. The crowd was happy, and went back to playing with the naked Participants and waiting for other entertainers.

We headed toward the street, to walk home. Susan's mother was there, looking at Susan playing with the crowd (and vice versa). One look at her face was enough to convince us that we wanted to avoid her. We split up, and looped around to head for our homes.

When I got home, there were messages from my parents saying that they would be home soon, and asking me to preheat the oven and start making a salad for dinner. We would have something light, like we always do before my shows. I always had a suspicion that they snuck off for more food between the time they dropped me off and the beginning of the show, but I could never prove it.

I was slicing some tomatoes for the salad, when Mom came in. She took a baking dish covered with foil from the refrigerator, and slid it into the oven. Then Dad came home, and between them they kinda squeezed me out of the kitchen. They suggested I nap or otherwise get ready for the long night.

After the way the day had gone, a nap sounded wonderful.

It must have been the shortest nap on record, but I did feel better. I was being called to dinner, so some time must have passed.

I washed my hands, and splashed a little water on my face to wake up more. Then I went down to eat. Dinner was nice, with the usual family small talk, until near the end. Then they dropped the bomb: the party. I knew I shouldn't have agreed to "think about it." But to be honest, I had thought about it. And I still didn't see any reason to go. Lots of reasons not to go, but no real reason to go. I told them so.

They were not happy. But their arguments were almost as though they were arguing against it. It pretty much boiled down to I could get a lot of attention from my peers, in an informal setting. How could they have lived with me for all of these years, and made that mistake?

"I don't WANT that attention. I don't LIKE that attention. That is why I didn't want to go before I got dragged into the program by that scheming..."

"Language!"

"I didn't say it. If I never wanted that attention under normal circumstances, dressed and all that, what in the name of all mysteries makes you think I would want to do so stark raving naked?" Ok, so it wasn't a good sentence. It got the point across. I think.

They tried stuttering about the Program and growth and whatnot. I told them about the questionnaire, and how it rubbed my nose in the fact that the Program had the opposite of the desired effect on me. That party was pretty much totally what I did NOT want.

I pretty much lost my appetite. I excused myself and went upstairs. I grabbed my robe and headed for the bathroom. I cleaned off my makeup, then stepped into a nice, hot shower. I thoroughly washed my body and my hair, and gingerly did my face. The bruise was still very tender.

As I washed, I wondered. A part of me did want to go to that stupid party. Naked or not. But every time I thought of being there, my mind filled with half-seen images of bad things happening to me, to the others there, or to both. That wistful part of me would just have to be disappointed.

Then I had to fight another battle. Part of me didn't want to bother dressing at all. I would just have to undress when we got there. The rest of me wanted every second of being clothed I could get. I compromised, with a long, soft dress and no underwear. I quickly brushed my hair out, and I was ready to go.

Mom drove me to the theater. They would both be in the audience, but I had to be there early for notes and setup. She dropped me off at the back door to the theater, and waited as I opened the door, slid out of my dress, and vanished inside.

I signed in, and noticed that John was not there yet. I went over to our stuff, unlocked the crates, and started setting up the equipment. John got there just as I was getting ready to assemble Zig zag. Good timing. We quickly had that put together and checked, and got the other things out.

We were about two thirds done when the call went out to gather for notes. There were two cancellations: a singer and the ventriloquist. There was no mention of reasons, but people were saying that the dummy got damaged at school. I hoped they were talking about the one made of wood and cloth. There were reminders about the order of acts, intermission, and the need to stay for the awards. We were advised that we might need to fill a bit. We assured them that we could do so.

We went back to finish setting up, and otherwise getting ready. We took turns going to the makeup room to cover our bruises and get our faces (and bodies) ready to look "natural" under the stage lights.

Then we settled in to wait.

When the show started, we watched parts of it from the wings. We took turns, so our things would be protected the whole time. The announcer explained the two categories of entrants, and said that the amateurs would be going first. He also mentioned the withdrawals.

The Irish musicians went first. They were very good, and very well received. The singer that went next had some problems due, I suspect, to nerves. She got some polite applause, but she looked very unhappy when she got off the stage. We all tried reassuring her, but she knew she blew it. The two tap dancers were split by the wannabe pop band. What the acts lacked in polish they made up for in enthusiasm, and the audience gave each nice rounds of applause. The jugglers got a lot of laughs with their sex toys and gags, and were clearly a crowd favorite. The last group in that category was the Brass trio. They only technically qualified, since their first competition appearance would be a few weeks later. That actually made them a good act for their place in the program, since they marked the transition between the amateurs and the competitors. Both of their numbers were very well received.

The announcer proclaimed the beginning of the competitor portion of the show, introducing Susan and mentioning some of her competition honors. She would be the last act before intermission due, in part, to the (former) influence of her mother.

The best that could be said for her performance was that it gave the singer a reason to feel better. Her face was set in what we call a "stage rictus", an exaggerated, mechanical smile which did not reflect the rest of her face. Actually, her whole routine was mechanical, like she was sleepwalking through it. I wondered why she would stop and stand at some points, and someone commented that those were the times when the lights in her costume would be doing things. She hadn't bothered to rework her act to account for her nudity. Or hadn't been able to.

I had a horrible thought, and signed to John to come over and bring the extinguisher. He agreed, and hurried over. Almost a step too late.

Susan got to the part where she pushed a button on the baton and the ends burst into flame. But her timing was off, and she brushed one end across part of her hair, setting it on fire. She didn't seem to notice, but was startled to see two naked boys rushing at her from opposite sides of the stage. She dropped the baton, which rolled against a curtain. Perry got to her first, spraying her hair. John curved around and sprayed the baton and curtain. The curtains were flame retardant, but not entirely fireproof.

The front curtain closed, and the house lights came up. The announcer informed the audience that it was intermission, and refreshments were available in the lobby.

Susan's parents arrived almost immediately. Her mother seemed almost as out of it as she was. Her father took control of the situation. He asked me to take Susan into the shower to rinse the foam off and make sure the hair was not smoldering. There were showers in the stage bathrooms, so we took her in the boys' room (because of the Program, and because it would let him come in with us. She would need family there.

I started the water and made sure it was lukewarm. He held her while I slipped off my shoes and socks, then I took her under the water. While we were under there, her father was on the phone to someone (I assume her doctor or someone like that), and someone brought in a stack of gym towels. I thoroughly soaked her hair, and let the water run over her. She came around a bit, and pulled away from me. I reassured her, and pointed out her father, who was standing there with a towel in hand.

I turned off the water, and she let him wrap a towel around her. A quick look showed that her scalp seemed undamaged, but she had what looked like a mild sunburn on one shoulder. She took another towel and wrapped her hair in a turban. Her father told her he was taking her to the doctor's office, just in case. He joked about the need to pick up some tranquilizers for her mother while he was at it.

He thanked me, and left. I used a couple of the remaining towels to dry off and get the worst of my hair. As I stepped out of the restroom, I saw John and Perry talking to the resource officer, apparently giving statements. Mary came up to me, and marched me to one of the dressing rooms. She asked about Susan's condition, and I told her. When we got there, she got out a brush and a blow dryer, and ordered me to sit. I saluted her and sat. She dried and styled my hair and, when she was done, it ended up looking better than when I got to the theater. I thanked her, and she gave me a quick hug. Then she reminded me to redo my makeup. Face and body. Damn.

Well, at least I had time. I went back to our stuff, to get my makeup kit. John and Perry were there, talking. They asked me about Susan and I told them what I knew. The RO came over and asked to get a statement from me. I asked if he could do that while I did my makeup. He shrugged and said he didn't know any reason he couldn't. We went to the makeup room, and I started cleaning my face while we talked. I told him what I knew, and he asked a few questions. He complimented me on my quick action, and wished me well for our act.

The intermission was over, and Perry had started his act. He still had the "how many licks" written on him, but had a variety of other decorations all over his body. He used some of them in his act. He had borrowed our small table from this morning, and had a variety of props on it. His act was stand up comedy, with props. He had a lot of jokes about the Program.

The audience roared. He got a standing ovation at the end of his act. Next came the ribbon dancers. Their act was great, as well. The audience liked it.

But the next act got a reaction just by coming onstage. The string quartet walked on, carrying their instruments. At first glance, they appeared to be dressed in very similar outfits. All four of them. Susan's mother marched up to the judges' table and said something, with much waving of her hands. By that time, I noticed that two of the outfits were just body paint, very skillfully applied. Obviously, they had made good use of Perry's note.

The audience loved their music. After their second number, there were a few seconds of silence, then growing applause building into a standing ovation. We clapped right along with the audience.

Then it was our turn. A couple of "stage hands" helped us take the things out on stage, then we began. We walked to the two chairs with the costumes on them. John told the audience that he wanted to show them the costumes we would have used, if the Program hadn't taken us in its sinister clutches. He played that last bit for laughs, but it was more than a little true for the two of us. After we put them back on the chairs, he picked up the jacket, showed the empty arm to the audience, and intoned in an overdramatic fashion "Nothing up my sleeve!"

The audience laughed, then gasped briefly as he was suddenly holding a black cane with a white grip and a silver tip. I quipped that some magicians needed an extra big wand to make up for other things. Another laugh. We then seemed to be looking around for something, and not finding it.

"Well, if we can't find it, you'll have to make one." I said. He looked annoyed, then went over to the costumes again, He made a show of patting them down, as though he was searching them. Then, with a crooked smile, he held up the jacket again, and repeated the "nothing up my sleeve" bit. There were a few chuckles from the audience, especially from the shills (our parents). He came back over to the table, and I raised a red cloth. He waved the cane over it and said the magic words "Safety First!" I dropped the cloth, and there was the fire extinguisher. He took it and put it down beside the table, to the applause of the crowd.

I removed the cloth and put a pan and lid on the table. He patted his body as though searching his pockets, then remembering he didn't have any. He went to the chair again, lifted the jacket, and the screen above his head came alive showing a familiar cartoon moose saying "Nothing up my sleeve... Presto!" The screen went blank, as the cane turned into a lit candle.

He came back to the table, and lit the contents of the pan. He looked a little alarmed, and smothered the flames with the lid of the pan. When he removed the lid of the pan, it was full of flowers, sticking up much higher than the pan top. In fact, most of them were good fakes, but there were some real ones in the middle of the arrangement. He pulled out one of the real ones and tossed it to one of the female judges. Not to be outdone, I took two more, and tossed them to male judges. Then I stuck my tongue out at him in a comical way. The audience laughed again. He just shrugged, and as he did, the candle turned into a bright red silk. He handed the silk to me as though it was a peace offering. I took it, then showed it was really the silk panties. I held them in front of me, then we looked at each other and said "Program."

I vanished the panties as he walked over to the chairs again. He held up the jacket again, and I waved encouragement to the audience. While the shills started it, by the end most were joining in the "up my sleeve line" amid their laughter. He walked back to me, then looked at my pussy in apparent confusion. "What is that?" he asked, pointing.