Chapter 1

I'm sure you've read Karen's story of her week naked in school. The only trouble with it is that she tells it as if she were the only one walking the halls and going to class with it all hanging out, so to speak. Well, let me tell you MY story.

As she explained at the beginning of her tale, there was to be one girl and one boy from each class, frosh, junior and senior, chosen each week to take part in the program. Well, that first week, I was the junior class boy. My name is Carl Walker, and, like Karen, I'm a junior. I know her, but not well - we're on different academic tracks, have different extracurriculars and move in different social circles, though I suppose our pictures will be side by side in the yearbook - Wagner, Walker?.

I know I'm seen as a bit of a nerd. I'm a geek, I admit it. I'm on the fast track to college, probably physics. I'm five foot eleven, and still growing (I hope), on the skinny side, maybe 150 pounds, blond hair, blue eyes.

Anyway, at the same time Karen was called into the principal's office and made to strip, I was called into Miss Mitchell's office. She's the Assistant Principal, not someone that I'd had much to do with. Oh, I'd seen her around, said "Hi" to her a few times. She was very formal. It was always "Hello, Mr. Walker," from her, never "Hi, Carl," or just "Hi."

But it's a formal school. Respect is emphasized all the way around. Something to do with minimizing violence or something, but to all the teachers we are "Mr." this or "Miss" that, and they are "Mr." or "Mrs." or "Miss" so-and-so.

Believe it or not, there's even a dress code! No tube tops, no hot pants, no hats. They stopped short of the jacket and neck tie, at least. Now I was about to find out it was all or nothing!

She's wasn't bad looking, Miss Mitchell, kind of skinny, on the tall side. You couldn't tell a lot about her figure, 'cause she usually wore a suit. You know, a skirt that came below her knees, a white blouse with a sort of fluffy bow tie and a jacket like a blazer. She wore her hair short and it had a touch of silver in with the gold, so I guess she was a natural blond.

She was kind of old, maybe fifty, I guess. Severe looking, if you know what I mean - gray eyes, pursed mouth. I remember once I saw her laughing, some joke from a teacher I guess, and it surprised me. She looked - nice. Some guys said she was a dyke, but I never believed 'em, and from my dealings I'm even more sure now I'm right.

Anyway, like I say, I was called into her office at the same time Karen was called into the principal's, and I guess I was told pretty much the same thing Karen was, and given a brochure about it. You know, that a new program had begun, and I was chosen as the junior boy who would have to attend all classes in the nude for the week.

Oh, yeah, she said it had something to do with us learning to treat girls as something other than simply sex objects, to learn to harness our natural energies, to behave more maturely, to become comfortable with our bodies, blah, blah, blah. I was so shocked I was hardly listening.

Well, I mean, you could have fried an egg on my face! I mean, yeah, I'd heard stuff about some new program, rumors, but I hadn't believed half of what they were saying. And I thought I'd be the last person in the world they'd choose even if they were true. I mean, I was brought up to be modest. I was kind of shy, to tell you the truth, and hadn't dated much - well, at all, really.

But I'm not gay or sexless. Half the time I'm walking around with a woody, trying to peek down the blouses of the girls, or up their skirts, trying to imagine what their breasts looked like. Stuff like that. I've got some hot Web sites book marked on my computer, only my Mom doesn't know it, of course.

I hate to admit it, but at fifteen, almost sixteen, I was a virgin.

Anyway, there I am, holding that brochure with a photo of a naked girl and boy on the cover, and she's saying, "Strip, Mr. Walker, or I will have someone help you do it."

"Naked?" I asked stupidly.

"Naked." It was the same, no-nonsense tone she'd use when she caught someone horsing around in the hall, or when she took cigarettes away from some dork stupid enough to get caught with them. Mind you, I don't touch 'em, and I don't drink, either. I guess I've got a reputation as a real straight arrow, and here I'm being told I was going to walk around school naked for a week! Shit!.

But, after taking a look at the two security officers smirking at me, I put down my stuff and began unbuttoning my shirt, LL Bean, of course, white, short sleeved oxford, button down collar and all. I emptied the pocket, wondering where I was going to keep my calculator, my pencils and stuff. (Don't even THINK it!)

When I got the shirt off one of the guards took it and I sat down to take off my shoes next, then my socks, trying to put off the inevitable as long as I could. All I had to do was think about being naked with a girl and, well, I rose to the occasion, if you know what I mean. Like, already I had a hardon that would punch a hole in concrete, for chrissakes!

"Pants," she ordered when I'd finished tucking my socks in my shoes. "You will be allowed shoes and socks, by the way."

Big deal! I thought. Standing up again, I fumbled with my belt, got it open, undid the button, ran my zipper down. I was scarlet from head to toe as I bent to slide my jeans down, trying not to look at her, trying to hide the hardon trying to crawl through the fly of my jockeys. The guard took my jeans and put them in a box with my shirt.

Then it was my underpants. I turned my back on her, but it wasn't much help, giving her a good look at my butt as I skinned them down, facing the guy who'd already taken my shirt and jeans. I straightened, my dick sticking out like the bowsprit of some friggin' sailing ship or something, bobbing up and down heavily.

"You can put your shoes and socks on, if you'd like."

I burned red. "Oh, yeah, thanks." I had to sit down in full view of her, my dick sticking up from my lap like a flagpole. It was even drooling a bit of pre-cum!

Somehow I did manage to get my socks and shoes on. I quick got up and turned toward the door, wanting to get away from her so much I wasn't even thinking of what was probably waiting outside the door.

"Don't forget your books, and the pamphlet, and find the time to familiarize yourself with it" Miss Mitchell reminded me as I reached for the door. "And your pencil and pen and calculator."

"Oh, uhm, yes'm, Miss Mitchell." I sort of sidled toward her, trying to hide my dick from her, but it didn't really work. I saw her eyes flick down to my cock, and for just a moment I thought I saw her lips twitch and maybe there was a gleam of interest in her eyes? I fumbled and dropped stuff, finally getting it all corralled. Holding it front of my crotch didn't do much good, since my dick stuck out like an iron bar.

"Remember the rules, Mr. Walker," she reminded me. "Three five minute bathroom breaks, you use the girl's locker room for gym, and you are to remain nude through all extra-curricular activities as well, save those where you are required to wear protection, such as certain sports, in which case only the necessary protection is to be worn. Oh, and one other thing."

"Yes'm?" I had my hand on the doorknob, ashamed even to look in her direction, at the same time dreading what I was going to face outside the office.

"In view of the adolescent male libido - you do know what 'libido' means, don't you, Mr. Walker?"

"Uh, yeah," I admitted. "I think so. Sex drive, right?" I risked looking at her.

There was the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Close enough. Anyway, I believe you'll find, if you haven't already, that a prolonged period of sexual arousal without relief results in what I believe is called a case of blue balls. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

I nodded numbly.

"In view of your condition," her gesture took in my throbbing hardon, "the rules allow for you to ask for relief at the beginning of each class period. You'll be permitted to masturbate, or even seek assistance in relieving your sexual tension. But it can only be done in full view of the class, and only in the first five minutes of the class period."

"In front of the whole class?" For the first time in two years my voice cracked.

"That's the rule, Mr. Walker. In front of the class. The teachers have, of course, received a full briefing on this program, so they will not be surprised. In fact, I suspect they will be expecting the request," she concluded. "It's all in the brochure, Mr. Walker. Please take the time to familiarize yourself with the rules. No clothes, no backpack, even, nothing to conceal your body from your fellow students. You can't even use your hands - not that they would do much good as long as you have that erection. And you must cooperate with any reasonable requests your teachers or fellow students may make of you during the week."