Beth Naked in School - Cover

Beth Naked in School

Copyright© 2010 by peregrinf

Chapter 1

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Part 3 of the Carl NIS series. It is best to read Carl NIS first, then Carl NIS - Beth's Story second, then this one. Beth helped Carl being naked in school, and now it is her turn. What will he do? She's not as shy, now, and isn't about to be bullied. But what a pep rally, and after the football game.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   ft/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Reluctant   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Spanking   Gang Bang   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Teacher/Student   School  



Tuesday, three days after Carl and I had gone to the homecoming dance, insanity struck again. Mom and daddy and I were having dinner, (meatloaf, French cut string beans, steamed carrots, and chocolate pudding for dessert - yum!) when the words popped out of my mouth.

"I want you to sign me up for the program." I toyed with my carrots, not looking at either of them.

"Oh my," mom said softly.

Daddy choked on a bite of carrot, and I thought for a moment I'd have to Heimlich him.

"You what?!" he managed do wheeze out after a few minutes.

"You put me on the 'will not participate list, ' didn't you?" I asked.

"Well, yes, we did," daddy admitted reluctantly. He, I should mention, was still getting over the fact that I'd gone to the homecoming dance naked, with Carl, my boyfriend, who was also naked, because he, Carl that is, not daddy, had been required to (go naked that is) because he, Carl, was in the program that week.

Boy pronouns can get messy!

I should mention that mom had broken the news about my state of dress, or the lack thereof, to daddy after Carl and I had left for the dance, and then had used her feminine wiles to keep daddy from riding to my "rescue."

And I'll go no farther down that road, thank you very much! Though I will admit I noticed their sheets were in the laundry the next day, only about a week early!

Anyway, even by Tuesday, daddy was still not completely reconciled to his "baby" having shown all at the homecoming dance.

"I don't want to be any different than the rest of the kids in school," I explained quietly, looking at him.

"But not all of them are going to be taking part," he argued.

"By the time the program is completed, most of them will have taken part," I pointed out. Stephanie, in fact, was in the program this week, poor thing. It was an awful strain on her, I knew, even though Carl and I made a point to include her in our walks between classes when we could, and had lunch with her.

On the other hand, it was doing her good. For one thing, she'd said that morning that she was making a serious effort to lose some weight, even though Carl and I insisted she needn't do that. She was always going to be a big girl, but getting rid of the roll at her tummy was a Good Thing, we all agreed.

"I might point out," mom observed wryly, "that going to the dance naked has already - uhm - made you stand out?"

"That's the whole point!" I complained. "I set myself apart by doing that, while you set me apart by putting me on the short list of those who aren't permitted to take part in the program."

Mom thought this over. "She has a point, Arthur. A twisted point, but a point."

"I've always been different," I reminded them. "I'm in the top of the class. That alone is bad enough. I'm not pretty."

"You are pretty. You have always been pretty, and I think maybe Saturday night has changed some opinions around school about that!" daddy retorted, obviously less than pleased.

"I'm not popular," I plunged on.

"Popularity is not everything. Top of the class is good! Different is good! And you've got Carl," daddy pointed out.

"And I bet your appearance at the dance has gained you some popularity, too," mom added.

"Not always the kind I want," I grumbled, thinking of the teasing and snide comments I'd gotten from some people, especially the girls. Most of them were unhappy because now their boyfriends wanted them to go to the next dance naked. Even worse, their boyfriends were hitting on me to go with them to the next dance naked - I mean ME naked, going with them to the next dance. Oh, whatever, you get the idea.

A few have even volunteered to be naked, too.

Very few.

Anyway, by the time we got to the chocolate pudding, they'd given in and agreed to request that I be chosen.

They must have made the call the next day, because I discovered the next Monday I'd made the top of the list. I found this out, of course, by being called to the principal's office to undress.

I hadn't known it was coming so soon. I'd dressed that morning in my nicest school clothes - my best white, button down, oxford cloth, short sleeved shirt and pleated plaid skirt, penny loafers and white socks.

But I was not quite as nerdy as I was prior to the dance, I admit. Underneath my nerdy best I had worn my newest underwear - a lacy bra - not because I needed a bra, but because it was lacy and nice - and lace panties, courtesy of a return trip to Victoria's Secret, and no, I did NOT do the mall naked again! I went with Carl and he even helped me pick them out!

Of course I wore them for Carl, even though I didn't plan on him seeing my frillies until, maybe, just maybe, after school.

Just in case, that was.

Maybe.

I know, we did some hot and heavy things Saturday after the dance, but we were both under the influence of the evening. We'd talked about it since and vowed to try to cool things down before we went Too Far, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I felt good knowing I was wearing something sexy under my dull outer layers, that there was a butterfly within this caterpillar.

Anyway, by Monday I had sort of half forgotten the whole issue of being naked in school, being engrossed in a paper for Chem over the weekend, as well as Carl, of course. But here it was, less than a week after I'd set the dominoes tumbling, I found myself in the principal's office.

"Take your clothes off, Miss Finch," the principal ordered, indicating the box on the floor beside me. Two security guards watched, as required by the rules. As I fumbled with the buttons on my blouse, I could only ask myself how I had gotten myself into this.

I knew perfectly well, of course. I'm not senile yet. Though I was thinking I had to have been demented when I set this in motion.

I hadn't expected it to be the next week! Now, that is! I hadn't known it was coming this day, and I was not ready for it. I'd had no warning, I'd been taken straight to the principal's office the moment I'd entered school, just the way all the others were handled.

I hadn't even prepared Carl for this, figuring I had a week or two to figure out the best way to break the news. This morning I'd been spirited away from him without a word of explanation, though I suspect he knew what was happening. But what was he going to say when he saw me naked in school?

I was remembering, too, the demands the program made on the participants - how we had to obey any reasonable requests from teachers and fellow students. Karen had set the bar pretty high that first week when she'd been chosen, letting herself be felt up in the hallways, and even submitting to a gang bang, and before school, no less, on Friday, her last day.

Oh God! I didn't have to go that far, did I? While Carl and I had masturbated each other, and he'd eaten me to the best climax of my short life, we were both still virgins, and I wanted my first time to be with him, and no one else.

I wondered if maybe we should move the timetable for that next Big Step up a bit.

I dropped my shirt in the box without even bothering to fold it neatly, fighting the urge to cover my lace encased breasts with my hands. If only I'd worn my dull old bra. Or even gone bra-less! This one molded to my breasts, and you could even see the shadow of my nipples through the lace.

I hurriedly dispensed with it, feeling more comfortable with bare breasts than I did with that seductive covering.

"Who else is taking part this week?" I asked nervously, trying to keep my voice steady as I dealt with the zipper of my skirt, conscious of the way my nipples had stiffened.

"We're not at liberty to tell you that," the principal answered. "The identity of participants is not revealed until they leave the office where they are being orientated."

"Orientated," in this context, meant "stripped naked."

And how dumb did he think the students were, anyway? These days there was only one reason students were summoned to the offices first thing on a Monday morning. They went in clothed, and came out naked, and everyone knew it. Word quickly got around about who had been summoned, and there was always a feeding frenzy outside the offices, as a result.

As a summonee, however, I was suddenly out of the loop.

My skirt followed my shirt and bra, and I flushed as the principal and the guards saw my lacy panties.

At least I'd worn bikini cut ones, rather than the even more revealing thongs I'd also bought! Still, they hugged my bottom and my pussy. I'd looked at myself in the mirror that morning and knew perfectly well that the shadow of my pussy hair showed through the lace.

My face got hot.

So much for my image as miss goody two-shoes, the teachers' dream student, never disruptive, always well prepared for class, eager to volunteer.

Myself (my evil twin, that is) cackled wickedly, and promised that we were going to have some fun this week!

Oh dear.

Blushing furiously, I skinned my panties down and stepped out of them, trying not to reveal any more of myself than I had to as I did.

In the box they went, leaving me in my penny loafers, white ankle length socks, the gold cross on the fine gold chain around my neck, eyeglasses, and scrunchy pony tail tie, reading from bottom to top, as it were.

Notice the wide gap between ankles and neck.

In fact, I was wearing less than I'd worn to the dance.

No gold ribbon in my pussy hair, for one thing.

I felt very, very, very naked and made a reflexive and totally ludicrous effort to hide my breasts and pussy with arm and hand.

I also tried to listen to the little speech the principal was giving me, I really did, but all I could think of was that in about two minutes everyone would be seeing the real me, and Carl was going to know that I was going to be naked in school for the next week!

I suppose you're thinking it's only right. After all, hadn't he undergone the same ordeal just week before last?

Well yes, he had. But sometimes I think maybe this whole sexual equality thing should be rethought. Especially by yours truly, me.

I shivered, goose bumps breaking out all over.

The principal was saying something about if I got my period, and I desperately reviewed my calendar in my mind, and heaved a sigh of relief. At least I wouldn't be walking around with a tampon string dangling from me like some sort of a fuse or rip-cord! Ick!

"Any questions, Miss Finch?" the principal asked, in a tone that indicated he was repeating the question in an effort to penetrate my dazed brain.

I'd read the manual when Carl had been on the spot - same manual for boys and girls - practically memorized it, in fact. No secrets between the sexes any longer. "Uh, nosir," I assured him. "No questions."

He was, I couldn't help noticing, enjoying the sight of me. "I'm sure," he went on, "you will comport yourself with dignity and good humor. So far, the ladies, and the gentlemen, have performed admirably. I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Yessir," I agreed, feeling a dazed numbness settle over me like a fog.

"Time to go, Miss Finch, or you'll be late for your first class," he announced cheerily. "Your clothes will be awaiting you outside the North Entrance. When you come to school the rest of this week you will disrobe there before entering the building, placing your clothes in the drop box," he reminded me.

"Yessir." Dazed, I turned toward the door.

I emerged to a wave of applause and whistles, and the sight of Carl in the front row. His expression? Well, that's hard to say. He was glad to see me, and he obviously was GLAD to SEE ME, as the bulge in his jeans made perfectly obvious.

What's that old joke? Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you glad to see me?

On the other hand, I could see, too, that he was less than ecstatic at the idea of having to share me with the rest of the student population for the rest of the week. And how would he react the first time I had to respond to a "reasonable request" from someone?

"Hi," I greeted him shyly, chewing my lower lip to ribbons.

"Hi." He took my hand, when what I really wanted was him to wrap his arm around me. "You okay?"

I shivered again. "I'll live, I think." The bell rang. "I've got to get to Chem class."

"See you in French," he assured me, handing me my book bag. He'd even insisted on carrying my books to school, the silly romantic!

"You sure will," I managed to joke as we parted and I joined the herd. I noticed that some went out of their way to void bumping into me, while others seemed to take every opportunity for contact with some portion of my naked anatomy.

I was scared and embarrassed, but there was one other feeling I can't deny, no matter how hard I tried.

I was horny.

Horny, horny, horny.

I admit, that was a word I'd not really known the meaning of until I'd first kissed, really kissed, Carl, that evening we'd taken a walk, him naked and me clothed.

Now, for the next week, it was me naked and him clothed.

Then, at the dance we'd danced naked, and afterwards, at home, we'd necked naked, and petted naked, and he'd - he'd eaten me out naked, and I'd - well, I'd had an orgasm that topped any I'd ever had before, which wasn't many anyway.

But now that I knew what an orgasm could be, well, okay, I confess, I wanted more. And here I was, a walking, naked invitation to every horny male in school, plus a few females who were - uh - differently inclined, and I wasn't sure I'd could turn them all down!

Oh God. Already I felt my pussy threatening to burst into tears.

After two weeks of the program, people were getting a bit more used to seeing students naked. I was greeted in my first period Chem class with snickers from some of the few girls in the class, with whistles and applause from the boys, but that was it.

Chemistry, at least, was not a class where the teacher would use me for a live demonstration. I heard that Karen's adventures in her bio class had been - uh - tres outre, as the French might say, complete with whips, chains and butt plugs!

Trying to ignore the ogling, I lowered myself into my seat, and winced at the chill. I will say that if this program continues they really must do something about the chairs. They are COLD!

What's worse, after you've sat in one for a while there's a tendency to stick to it. Maybe they could issue participants cushions to carry around with them. As it is, the academic world is simply not properly furnished for this program!

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