Chapter 9

Friday

"No retreat," was the phrase that came to mind as I faced the door, ready to head off to school. I was carrying my book bag, and in it were books, nothing else; no undies, no skirt, no blouse. Nothing. I had nothing on but my loafers, my gold cross and my glasses.

It meant I was committed to my plan, though I suppose there are some people who will say I should be just plain committed.

Once I walked out the door I had nothing to cover myself with until I got home again that afternoon. What's more, I'd vowed not to dress again until - well, indefinitely, though I think in the back of my mind I'd already decided that if everything went well I'd let myself get dressed on Monday.

Maybe.

If only it was to be that simple! Had I known what was coming, what would I have done?

Probably the same thing. I am not a quitter! Nor do I have any regrets.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped out into the bright morning sun, the cool air making my already stiff nipples wake up even more. Since I was running a little late I wheeled my bike out, a first since my time in The Program started!

I tell you, riding a bicycle naked is a whole new experience! The seat rubbed me in some very interesting ways. The air whistling past my naked body was a wild sensation, too.

I'd called Carl, so he had his bike, too, and he met up with me, of course, and we rode together. He was surprised I was naked - I hadn't told him about that - so I had to explain what I was doing. He thought it was incredibly brave of me.

He's such a sweetie!

Anyway, we got to school and I got off, flashing my naked pussy at everyone to starboard as I did, of course, 'cause it's my brother's old ten-speed, not a girl's bike that allows a more modest dismount. After locking our bikes to the rack we walked in to school just in time for the first bell.

That, at least, saved me from another group grope.

Oh, I'd have submitted to it, without help. Better that than another spanking - a second offense would have resulted in a doubled penalty!

Chemistry went as usual. I was getting better at concentrating on the lessons, rather than the way everyone looked at me.

Or, maybe they weren't staring at me as much? I guess they were used to seeing me naked now. It was a bit of a relief, of course, but I was kind of surprised to find that I missed the attention, too.

Mademoiselle Duclos had exhausted my anatomical offerings, so I wasn't subjected to any more "show and tell" in French class - another let-down.

But math class with Freschetti brought with it a nice touch of normality, wouldn't you know. He accosted me outside the door this time, though.

"Hey, Finchy, I think I need some relief again today," he announced snidely.

I looked down at his diminutive dick, trying to figure out if it was up or not. If I'd been nasty I would have said something like "It's hard to tell," but I didn't. Maybe I should have.

"How about you suck it out of me this time?" he asked with a sneer.

I really, really hate being called "Finchy," by the way. Without even thinking, I went for his balls again, curling my fingers around them and giving them a warning squeeze.

"In your dreams, Freschy," I retorted. "What's the matter, can't you even get Marilyn Beaverton to hoover you? If you want relief, you'll have to settle for a hand job from me, if you're willing to risk it! I might just decide to twist it off instead."

Marilyn, you'll recall, is the one who had sucked Carl off so effectively on his second day in The Program. The joke around school was that she was so orally fixated that if a terrorist gave the order to blow up a school bus she'd die of carbon monoxide poisoning.

Freschetti flushed.

With my other hand I squeezed his dick, finding it as limp as I suspected it to be. He didn't need relief. It was all a power trip with him.

"Are you still taking steroids? Haven't you figured out they suck the juice right out of you? To say nothing of giving you the attitude of a grizzly with a toothache. Get a life, Freschetti." Dropping his privates I pushed past him into the classroom, shaking with a mixture of fury and fear.

He slunk back to his seat, and left me alone, but I couldn't help worrying that I'd made a real enemy this time, and he was not one you wanted as an enemy. I was pretty safe, as long as he or some of his buddies didn't catch me alone, but if they ever did - well, I tried not to think about that!

Lunch was lunch, of course, with my friends. Stephanie looked at me longingly, and I flashed her a little kiss as I patted the seat next to me. When she rested her hand on my thigh under the table I didn't discourage her. I even kind of wished she'd been naked like me - I might have nestled my hand in her pussy.

Carl was on my other side, of course, and he sneaked his hand down on to me, too. When he found Stephanie's hand already in residence there he shot me a sly look, and they finger wrestled for possession of me.

"Share nicely, children," I told them softly as I tried to eat in spite of the distraction they presented.

The next thing I knew I had two fingers up inside me. They even figured out a way they could both diddle my clit! Before I knew it I was choking on my Jell-O salad!

Karen was across the table from me, of course. She dropped her napkin and when she emerged from beneath the table after "looking for it" she gave me a wicked wink. My giggle sounded a bit like a moan as my cunt went into orgasmic spasms.

From lunch it was off to art class, where I was still posing, of course. Henry was now working on me from the waist down. At first it was just the curves of my ass, the swell of my hips, the curve of my tummy, the creases where my thighs joined my hips, places like that. Which, I might mention, was certainly stimulating enough!

He was still as shy and polite about it as ever, of course. But Henry was getting steadily more and more intimate in his tactile explorations (isn't that a delicate way of putting it?). He started figuring out the geography of my pussy area.

Oh my!

I mean, I was still stirred up from Carl and Steph's lunchtime frolic in my playground and here was Henry, literally studying my most intimate anatomy by Braille!

Oh my!!

"You're - not hairy," he commented.

"I shaved it a few days ago," I admitted.

"Oh! Are you sure you don't mind me touching you there?"

"I don't mind." I couldn't bring myself to tell him that half the male population of the school had already become intimately acquainted with my genitalia.

He felt my labia, traced the slit delicately.

"The - uhm - underlying structure influences the contours," he hinted. "I mean, like Michelangelo studied the bones and muscles of cadavers."

"Well, you don't need to wait until I'm dead," I assured him with a nervous giggle. Thank goodness the teacher had some Mozart on to provide "ambiance," as he put it, so our little exchanges couldn't be overheard.

"Are you sure?" He "looked" up at me anxiously, his blind eyes hidden by his dark glasses.

"I'm sure." Breaking my pose, I took his hand and steered it back to my crotch, working his fingers into my slit.

"It's hot, and wet," he mused softly. With both hands he parted my labia. His fingers traced my ruffles and folds, touch my clit, which sent a jolt through me, of course.

"My vagina," I explained softly as his finger probed my cunt, my legs going rubbery.

"May I" the girl who had been doing the sketches of my pussy asked, joining Henry, a small sketch pad and a pencil in hand.

"Sure," I answered, deciding that "the more the merrier" would be too explicit an invitation to everyone in the class.

Finishing with my pussy, at least temporarily, Henry went back to his clay sculpture of me and did things to the crotch of his clay model of me that made me quiver as I watched, like it was a voodoo doll and I was feeling his every touch. He used this little loop of wire to shape my hairless slit. Wow!

Meanwhile, the girl sketched, her pad at my feet, using her fingers to spread my labia so she could capture the "inner me," I guess you could say. I could even feel her breath on my upper thighs, even on my pussy as she studied it intently. It was a disappointment when she finished and went back to her easel. I'd even found myself hoping she'd like a taste, I was getting so horny again.

But then Henry came back, moving behind me. His fingers pried into the crack of my ass, touched my anus gently and my knees went weak again. He traced the little gap separating that opening from my pussy, and I remembered how his guide dog's nose had felt as she'd touched me there, and tried not to squirm.

I was blushing furiously throughout all this, of course. I mean, after all, the whole art class was watching, sketching me while all this was going on! And to make it even worse, the teacher was snapping pictures for the school Web site as an example of what the art program had to offer even the visually impaired.

Even with the usual two breaks I was sweating and trembling by the time class was drawing to a close.

"Thank you very much, Miss Finch," the teacher said a few minutes before the bell rang. "You've been most cooperative, an excellent model. Would you be willing to consider posing for some of the other art classes in the future?"

"Uh, well, I don't know," I admitted. "Let me think about it."

"And if you'd like to earn a bit of money, I know of some private classes and some artists who are always looking for willing models," he went on.

"Well, like I said," I answered warily, "let me think about it."

Just then the bell rang, liberating me from that particularly awkward conversation. I mean, did I want to continue something like this after I was done with The Program?

That was not a question that I cared to explore very closely at the moment, because just the thought of it made my innards wriggle.

And I also couldn't help thinking that I could use the income.

The next period I had free in the library to study for the PSATs. It gave me more time than I wanted to think about so many things.

My afternoon and night with Stephanie and Carl, for example. I'd done things with them that I'd never thought I'd ever do with anyone. And it had been good! I had no regrets. We hadn't resolved Stephanie's sexuality issues, but explored her options very thoroughly, you might say.