Chapter 5

I'm not going to bore you with endless tales of the requests we fielded after emerging from Worthington's office -- stand up straight, stick your chest out, spread your legs, arms behind your head, behind your back, above your head, bend over and show me your ass, spread the cheeks -- other than to say that what some people regard as reasonable I don't.

Put a pencil up my butt? Eraser end first, please. A pickle? Sure, why not. Better that than a banana, they break too easily. I'm told it was a sweet pickle, but I drew the line at even looking at it, let alone eating it afterwards. That, I felt, would really have been unreasonable, and if I get reported for refusing that request I'll fight it all the way to the Supreme Court.

I also did my best to make sure that Peggy got her share of requests, as long as the requester had clean hands. Turns out Peggy has probably a year's supply of those sanitizing wipes in her backpack, one of those pop-up boxes of them you see in the market for moms to use on a baby's butt. Okay, they've got baby lotion on 'em, but that just means the hands that touch the baby maker are baby soft -- not a bad thing, considering some of the places the touchers want to touch. Used ones -- wipes, that is, not fingers! -- go in a closable plastic baggy kept in a different pocket of her backpack.

She's very organized.

Oh, it also turns out she has about 14 years of stored up lust to release.

We share all of our afternoon classes so we could share the adventure, and before the day was over she agreed it was a Good Thing that her parents had signed her up for The Program. Maybe Worthington had put the fear of God in her, but whatever the reason she accepted the spirit of the program, and once she'd cracked that metaphorical egg, she proceeded to make an omelets with all the trimmings, including a dash of hot sauce. Sex was a revelation to her. She'd only learned theory from The Dirty Dozen, she had no practical experience at all. She'd remained -- I can't think of a word that exceeds chaste, but she was it. She'd even been too shy and fastidious to have touched herself Down There other than with toilet paper or a washrag, and only for the purposes of hygiene.

My goodness! Had she no curiosity?

Fortunately, the Tweedles were not in evidence and she was blessed with gentle, thoughtful admirers, for the most part. Okay, maybe I managed to draw off the barbarians, like the pickle pusher, rather than have her be overly challenged on her first day. But the first time a geeky sophomore toyed with her delicate boobies Peggy almost melted down in her loafers. When another was given permission to kiss her tits she wound up hugging his head to her chest and almost suffocating him.

Oh, and she didn't insist he brush his teeth before his mammary osculation.

After that it wasn't far from there to her carefully cleaning a boy's fingers with one of her wipes, and checking his fingernails, before he explored her sweet little pussy. Peggy's little squeaks of joy had everyone around smiling and laughing, and she was almost late to her next class.

The only surprise for me was when Kathy Powers showed up in front of me just before my last class, but I was overjoyed with her request.

"Would you and Greg come by the studio this afternoon and pose for me?" she asked nervously.

Would I! I'd been kind of hanging back, not wanting to be pushy -- sooo unlike me! -- for fear of offending or upsetting her. I know, I was supposed to be keeping an eye on her for Stephanie, and I had been, from a distance, but I couldn't believe she'd need my help. Now, up close, I felt shy and a little guilty, as well as happy to be asked.

"Of course I would," I agreed, "but Greg's kinda locked in to the bus schedule." I beckoned him over from where he'd been anxiously watching me respond to requests, waiting his turn.

"Whassup?" he asked.

"I really need your guys help," Kathy explained. "Got an idea I want to work on with you."

"Uh, okay. When?"

"This afternoon?"

He frowned. "I've gotta take the bus home."

"I can drive you home," Kathy answered. "Both of you."

"Oh, okay, I think," Greg agreed. "I'll just have to call my mom and clear it with her."

Kathy seemed so hopeful, almost anxious. I had to think fast. I had other plans, my encounter with Worthington being at the head of the list. Vice Principal Devers had an open office policy, and I was heading for that right after closing bell. "Could you call my mom, too?" I asked Greg. "Just leave a message on the machine in case she gets home before me. Kathy, I've got to see Mrs. Devers right after school. Shouldn't take long. Can it be about a half hour after last class?"

"Sure." Kathy looked incredibly relieved. For a moment I thought she was going to ask something more, but she didn't. I tried to hide my disappointment. I'd have done almost anything she'd asked. As she walked away she seemed lighter on her feet and I hoped I was the reason for that. I know my afternoon had brightened up considerably. In the interests of being fair and balanced I hauled in Greg for a quick kiss and grope before he had to dash off to his next class.

Then Dennis, the redheaded boy from home room asked if I'd give him relief in our last class of the day, and how could I possibly refuse? I am, if nothing else, obliging in such matters, and it seemed so fitting, to begin and end the school day -- well, almost, anyway -- by giving the same boy a blow job. I liked the symmetry of it. Only this time both of us were naked and as I knelt in front of him he toyed with my titties while I sucked and sucked and tickled his balls until he filled my mouth (Yum!), my pussy juicing merrily from the combination of his taste, his teasing my tits, and anticipation of the time with Greg and Kathy!

I wondered if maybe Dennis would like to learn how to give me relief. If so I'd be happy to give him lessons.

Maybe tomorrow.

Peggy was also in that last class and she watched me suck him off, her fuck finger deep in her mouth, her tongue obviously working, her eyes as big as saucers as I devoured Dennis's dick for the second time that day. How long would it be before she obliged some boy with her own mouth? Of course she'd towelette him clean before she did, but I really don't think he'd mind. Already, when she wiped a boy's hands it looked like foreplay. She'd look up bashfully into his eyes as she carefully swabbed each finger, then suck and lick the tips to make sure they were clean. That girl was hot!

I wonder if she'd be up for a little girl-girl action with me?

Once free of my last class I hurried off to Mrs. Devers's office before someone got in ahead of me. She looked surprised when I, still naked (well doh! That's what 'naked in school' means), knocked on her open door.

"Dee! I didn't know you were in The Program this week!" She was doing some filing or something.

"I wasn't. I sort of talked my way into it," I confessed. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course! Come in, come in, and close the door behind you." She moved around behind her desk, and motioned me into a chair.

She's a tall woman, slender and athletic, and always very nicely turned out but not prissy -- white satin blouse, knee length navy skirt this day. Her graying hair is short, framing a face a little more handsome than beautiful -- strong jaw, delicate nose, nice cheekbones. But it's her eyes that capture you, or at least me. They're gray, and seem to see right into my soul. They can be warm and welcoming, like now, or sparkling with laughter, storm clouds when she's angry, or icicles that drill right through you if you screw up.

"Looking forward to the school swimming season?" she asked. "Gail is still over-the-top at winning the county championship."

"So'm I," I admitted.

"She gives you all the credit for it, you know. She insists that warm-up routine of yours made all the difference. I must say, it was a treat watching your bouncing naked butts -- my husband especially liked that, once he got over the shock of seeing Gail that way. And I must say, those boys have great butts, too."

"It's the swimming," I pointed out. "The swimmer's kick builds the glutes."

"Anyway, I was so surprised when you got the boys to do it, too, and it worked for them!"

I shook my head. "They did it all themselves. As for us, Gail got us off to a great start with the best split time she's ever had. She'll be the best backstroker in 9th grade this winter."

"And you'll be whipping everyone in butterfly again," she responded.

"I don't know about that. This isn't age-group swimming. I'll be taking on seniors."

"You'll do it. Now, what can I do for you? How come you're naked?"

I guess she hadn't heard from Worthington, so I told her what had happened, beginning with Peggy being chosen for The Program, taking it through our encounter with the Tweedles -- I didn't call 'em that, of course -- to our summons to Worthington's office.

"He probably wouldn't have let me in his office, but she was so scared I couldn't abandon her, and I really didn't give Mr. Worthington a chance to keep me out. By the time he got his mouth open I had the door closed behind us," I admitted. "His office is kinda small, by the way."

"A converted closet," Mrs. Devers admitted. "He wasn't my idea. He was foisted on us by the National NIS Board after they'd suitably indoctrinated him."

"Figures. Anyway, I was between him and the door, and I'm taller than he is." I went on to explain how frustrated he made me waving that silly rule book at us when I tried to explain what had really happened. Mrs. Devers is a great listener. She didn't interrupt, and gave me her full attention, then, when I was done talking, she thought for a minute, leaving me twisting my hands together.

"I'll probably get his report on this by the end of the week. I'm sorry you're in the program," she said at last, "but I'm not going to reverse Mr. Worthington's decision, if that's why you're here."

"Oh, no, don't feel bad! I don't mind. You know me, I'm not bashful about being naked. And I did get kind of loud when he wouldn't listen to me, so I guess I deserve it, except for me it's not really punishment."

"Putting you in The Program is like that old story of Brer Rabbit and the Briar Patch," Mrs. Devers responded, a twinkle in her eye.

I couldn't help it, I had to laugh. "At least I didn't say, 'Oh please, Mr. Worthington, don't make me go naked in school!' if that's what you mean. But if I'd thought of it I would have."

She laughed with me. "I bet you would have. I've witnessed some of your escapades, known about others, heard about how well you handled the sex ed program that Carl and Beth put on in your school. How are they, anyway?"

"Okay, I guess. I get email from Carl pretty often, and Beth, too. They're excited, and both real busy, of course. I miss 'em."

"I'll bet you do. But what is it that brings you here, if it isn't being in The Program?"

"Well, it is The Program, really, but it's not about me."

I reminded myself to sit up straight, my hands in my lap, knees and feet together, legs cocked to the side so my knees didn't stick up. I sat like a lady's supposed to sit, even though I was stark naked. Maybe, in fact, it was for the best I did sit like that since I was stark naked. Otherwise she'd'a been looking right up my crotch. If nothing else, that would be distracting.

"Anyway, this morning got me thinking. Peggy didn't refuse a request. All she wanted was for the Tw ... the boys to wash their hands before they touched her. They really were kinda grubby, with dirt under their nails, and they always smell of cigarettes and -- other stuff -- and she's got this cleanliness thing going."

She nodded. "Who were the boys?"

"One of 'em's named Cagney. I don't know the other. They're always by the front door, staring at us girls, and now that The Program's started they'll be on us like white on rice." I made a face.

"Ah yes, Mr. Cagney and Mr. Lacey." Mrs. Devers sighed, making notes on a pad.

"You know them?"

"Better than I want to," she admitted. "They -- come from a challenging environment. But I can certainly understand Miss Hughes being reluctant to submit to their fondling."

I'd been trying to get my thoughts about The Program sorted out all afternoon, and now I had to reassemble them all over again. I knew I shoulda made a list.

But she let me think, didn't prod me.

"Well, the thing is," I began, "as I said, she didn't actually refuse their request, but Mr. Worthington treated it as if she had. He kept waving his rule book at us. I kept trying to tell him she didn't refuse a request, she'd just asked them to wash their hands. She just had a condition for them to meet before they could. But Mr. Worthington wouldn't listen to me, to us."

"He's young and inexperienced. I'll talk with him."

I had the feeling she wanted to add "not that it'll do any good" but she didn't say it. I was getting the feeling that Worthington was as much of a trial to her as he was to any students hauled before him.

"But it's not just that," I went on. "I mean, yeah, it would have been nice if he'd at least listened, but it's this whole 'reasonable request' thing. Who decides what's a reasonable request? Is it only the requester or -- what was it Worthington called it? -- can it be the requestee? What seems reasonable to some boy may not seem reasonable to me."

Mrs. Devers looked a little surprised. "I'd never thought of it that way," she admitted. "Requestee -- an interesting word."

She scribbled another note.

"I'm not sure it is a word. Anyway, like, well, after lunch today some boy wanted to put a pickle, a big one -- I think it was a sweet pickle -- up my -- uh -- anus." I blushed. "I didn't mind that, though I prefer dill pickles, to eat that is. Of course I can't taste back there, but it was kinda cold..." I realized I was rambling. "But then he wanted me to eat it, after he took it out, and, well, I wasn't about to do that! So I may be back in Mr. Worthington's office tomorrow for that," I finished lamely.

Mrs. Devers looked shocked. "I don't think so! That's not a reasonable request, no matter which way you look at it. That's plain unsanitary, unhealthy! Frankly, I'm not sure I'd have agreed to the first part of the request, be it a sweet, sour or dill, and if it were one of those little gherkins I'd be afraid it'd get lost in there. But, I guess if that happened nature would take its course, of course."

After chuckling along with her I continued. "And when Peggy wanted the hand washing before they touched her, it made me think. What if they'd forced her, put one of their grubby fingers in her and she'd gotten an infection? I bet that would get the school sued! I know my mom would be furious!"

Last year, thank you lang arts, I'd learned the word "blanch" and knew that it meant to turn white, and I'd heard of a person blanching, but this was the first time I'd ever seen it -- Mrs. Devers actually blanched, and for a minute I was afraid she'd faint. "My God! Why didn't I think of that?"

Then, her eyes like a thunderstorm, she scribbled another note on a pad on her desk, pressing so hard she broke the point on her pencil and had to grab another one. "I wonder if there are statistics they aren't letting us hear," she muttered, still writing. "Go on, Dee, please."

I took a deep breath and plunged on with all the stuff I'd been thinking about. "And then there's this thing with putting people in The Program as punishment or extending their time in it if they do something like refusing a request. Isn't it supposed to be a positive experience, we're supposed to be getting something good from it? I think using it for punishment just sends the wrong message entirely, and in my case it doesn't work anyway."

After making more notes her eyes focused on me, not angry or anything, but intent. It made me a little nervous. She nodded, so I went on.

"And then, I remember when Carl was in the program, and Beth. Well, Carl got in trouble for failing to report being bullied, and Beth -- what was it? -- oh, yeah. She was nervous about boys touching her, I think it was her second day or something like that, and asked her friends to hold her while they did, instead of just standing there and taking it. And for that they were spanked, in public, with a ruler. That's humiliating. That's like something out of The Scarlet Letter!"

I didn't go on to tell her that both of them became incredibly horny as a result. Some punishment! Or that my mom had never laid a hand on me for punishment in her life, though I'd certainly given her good reason sometimes, but now that I'd uncovered her secret I wondered what I could do to deserve a little -- uhm -- tuning up with the Cat -- while I was suitably restrained, of course.

Realizing Mrs. Devers was patiently waiting, I hauled my mind back on course. "And then, the chairs are really cold on your butt -- our butts, I mean -- when we're naked, and sometimes we leave sticky spots, or stick to them, but that's just a silly little thing, I guess. Giving us towels would solve that problem."

"And another cost because of The Program," Mrs. Devers mused, making another note. "And we should issue hand-sanitizers," she went on under her breath, still writing.

"But the big thing is figuring out what's a reasonable request," I said, returning to that problem. "There should be some way for the -- uh -- requestee to refuse one she -- or he -- feels is unreasonable before being stuck doing it. If they're forced to do it, even if they think it's unreasonable, well, that's just not fair. This is about gaining self-respect. How can we develop that if we're being forced to do something against our will, or principles? And there's another thing -- guys are always making requests of us girls, but girls almost never do of guys, but I guess that's just a gender thing.

"Anyway, we need a court of appeals, or something, that will decide what's reasonable, and maybe a list of what's reasonable and unreasonable. And what if I'm in the program and I want someone to -- uh -- do something? Can I make a request to someone not in the program? Other than asking for relief in class, I mean, like maybe I'd like him to kiss my -- breasts, or something, maybe after I've done his request?"

At that point I realized I'd been kinda running on here, and being kinda harsh on The Program, so I shut up, and looked at my hands sort of huddling on top of my pussy.

When I looked back up, for the longest time she just looked at me. I think she was smiling, sort of, maybe, but I couldn't read her eyes at all. Then she nodded.

"You'll do," was all she said.

"Uh -- I'll do what?"

"You've raised some important issues about The Program," she answered cryptically. "Some that I'd already thought of, and some that I hadn't."

She took a deep breath. "We've been thinking about what to do about the whole Naked in school program, how to fix it. We've had a lot of questions about it. The problem right at the top of the list is the whole 'reasonable request' thing. As you said, who decides what is a reasonable request? Should there be an appeals process to resolve issues such as the one that got Peggy called in? In that particular case I agree with you, and it should never have come before Mr. Worthington, but there are others that are less obvious.