Chapter 6

"Good morning, darling," Mom greeted me as I dropped my backpack by the front door. "All dressed for school, I see."

I looked down at myself, my nipples poking out merrily, enjoying the morning air, my freshly washed pussy hair, what there was of it, waving in the breeze. The only thing separating me from the rest of the world was my socks and sneakers.

"I'm trying for a fashion statement."

"I'd say it makes one."

"Do you think it's too much?"

She laughed. "Or too little, depending on your perspective, I suppose. But, since you're in The Program, it's appropriate. Oh, I dug around and came up with Carl's copy of the NiS rule book for you. You might want to try to get an up-to-date version, though I doubt it's changed much."

"Thanks." After flipping through it I stuffed it in with the rest of my books. I hated to admit I'd never read the thing, but I hadn't expected to be thrust into The Program in the first week.

Now, thanks to Me and my Big Mouth -- no, it was obviously The Stick's fault -- The Program was going to be the center of my existence, and not just for this week. Not that I really minded being in The Program, of course, but if I was going to be taking on Mr. Worthington, or "Worthlesston" as I'd taken to thinking of him, I did need to be armed with facts. I kind of suspected he was making up his own rules as he went along.

"And what's with the towel?" she asked, as I covered my chair at the breakfast table with a hand-towel from the linen closet.

"The school's seats are cold," I explained, "and I did some research on nudism and naturism and it is considered good etiquette to carry a towel to sit on -- hygiene and all that. As long as I don't try to hide behind it it is legal."

"I wonder why Carl never thought of that?"

"Boys are different," I pointed out, reaching for my orange juice.

"I've noticed," she responded dryly. She was busy dishing out French toast and bacon. Mom had figured out it was quicker and more efficient to do French toast than to juggle bacon, eggs, bread and a toaster. She'd just scramble some eggs in a shallow soup dish, dip hearty, whole-grain bread in it and fry it up while broiling the bacon. Before I sit down I nuke the syrup -- real maple -- ten seconds or so to get it hot and after I butter the stack and drizzle hot syrup I dig in.

That, a glass of orange juice and a bigger glass of milk and I was ready to face the day. Without a big breakfast, with plenty of carbs, by about ten o'clock my metabolism crashes and I fall asleep in class.

"And speaking of that committee, did Mrs. Devers give any kind of timetable for getting it set up?" Mom asked, joining me.

I shook my head. "She said she'd have to run it past The Powers That Be, but didn't think there'd be any trouble. I hope it's soon, or by the time we get some answers it'll be too late."

"I thought of a way to give it a nudge, but I don't want to joggle your elbow."

I shrugged. "Nudge away, as long as it can't be traced back to me. I'm not supposed to talk about the committee until it's announced, but I figured since you're my mom I could talk with you without needing to worry about causing an uproar in school. No way you'd blab."

"Thank you for your trust!" She sounded genuinely grateful. "Okay, here's my idea. Your story about -- who was it? -- those two boys and Peggy?"

"Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber -- Misters Cagney and Lacey, I found out from Mrs. Devers. I just think of 'em as 'the Tweedles.' It's simpler."

"It gave me the chills, what might have happened to Peggy if they'd violated her with their filthy fingers."

"Is it 'violated' if it's part of The Program?"

"A far as I'm concerned it is if she doesn't give permission! Anyway, you've spotted a real, immediate hazard. I thought maybe if I dropped a word with Elaine and she alerted the school nurse it might motivate the administration. There's no way it could be traced back to you talking with me about the committee. She's just a concerned medical professional suddenly aware of what's going on and pointing out the danger. It would have been better if she'd said something sooner, say when Beth was in the program, but if she had, the problem would have already been solved."

I thought it over as I enjoyed a bite of French toast, and nodded as I swallowed. Mom's not big on me talking with my mouth full -- good thing she doesn't sit at my lunch table. "Just don't mention anything about a committee. Maybe she can say it's come to her attention, and she's concerned, and yada yada yada." I waved my fork.

Mom nodded, and I paused with another bite halfway to my mouth. "Where is Elaine? You two haven't had a fight, have you?"

Mom dimpled. "No, dear. But she does have a place of her own, you know."

I shrugged. "She could move in here, the amount of time she spends here." Mom turned pink, and I realized I'd stepped over the line and changed the subject. "Anyway, I was thinking last night, I'm going to have to make a quick decision on who to recommend from 9th grade -- a boy, I mean -- and I don't think this week's victim would be right for it, even though he is very sweet."

"And you'd know this how?" she asked shrewdly, and it was my turn to turn pink.

She smirked, and I made a finger-stroke in the air, indicating she'd scored a point. "Anyway, every committee member has to have experience in the program."

"Even the faculty member?"

"Even him -- or her."

"Oh boy!"

I giggled at her reaction. "Anyway, to get experience, whoever I recommend has to be in the program as soon as possible."

"Good point."

"So I'd better come up with someone today, and hope Mrs. Devers can juggle the schedule if she can."

She agreed. "And I've had another thought, too, of something you should move fast on. Unless you're careful, the faculty member will wind up running the committee by default."

I could only nod in agreement on that point, working as I was on a piece of bacon at that moment. I'd already thought of that, but couldn't figure out a solution. Worthlesston would wreck the committee if he ran it.

"You might point that out to Mrs. Devers when you see her, before you're presented with a fait accompli."

"A what?"

"A 'fait accompli.' That's French for 'an accomplished fact, ' or 'a thing already done.'"

"Oh."

I eyed my mom with renewed respect. "How come you know stuff like that?"

"I was on a debating team in college, young lady, didn't you know that? And I was President of the French Club in high school."

"Neat!"

"Anyway, drop that little note in her ear when you see her, before things get too far along. Maybe there's some way for the committee to choose its own chair. Ask her."

"Thanks." I looked at the time. "Gotta dash, I want to take a different route to school this morning." I hustled my dishes into the dishwasher. I never leave enough on them to need rinsing.

"Don't' forget your towel!"

"Oh, thanks." Scooping it up I tucked it into a strap on my backpack and shrugged the pack on. It felt funny to have it on my naked back, but I knew I'd get used to it quick. I'd done it before. "See you tonight."

"Have a nice day, Sweetie." She insisted on giving me a hug and a kiss, and I didn't object, even though I was in a hurry. I never turn down a hug from Mom. I scampered down the front walk and enjoyed the feeling of being naked in the morning air, the sun warm on my breasts and shoulders. I always feel so alive when I'm out in the open in nothing but skin.

Mike Collins lived a couple of blocks out of my way and I was hoping to sort of accidentally on purpose bump into him on the way to school. I haven't had the time to get to know many boys in my class. Of the ones out of my middle school I knew Mike the best, and except for a hormone hurricane last year he seemed pretty level-headed. I'd had a terrific crush on him in middle school, but, in a fit of testosterone madness, he'd fallen for my former BFF Missy, to his lasting regret, even though he'd taken her virginity (and mine) in one amazing, mortifying afternoon. I could sort of feel him out about The Program without tipping him off anything was going on.

Anyway, I lucked out, passing his house just as he came out. The first thing he noticed was that I was naked, of course. Now, he's seen me naked before, even plumbed my depths once, but I still have an impact on him, especially now that I'd developed some bulges and curves. His pants saluted me nicely.

"How come you're naked again today?"

I made a face. "Oh, you know, yesterday I mouthed off to Mr. Worthington. He didn't specifically say I was in The Program for the week, but I figured I might as well just assume it and start the day this way."

So that led to a talk about The Program, of course. Mike knew he'd be in it sooner or later. He, of course, was one of The Dirty Dozen, the group of us that emerged from Carl and Beth's sex ed program last year with the task of educating our peers. Mike wasn't uncomfortable exposing his naked body, not that he should be. He's not only athletic but nicely endowed as well, and also knew how to use his appendage, having introduced it to me, and he'd subsequently gained considerable experience with Missy, before she'd trashed that relationship.

Even so, he was worrying about what some upper-class fem might ask him to do. Girls didn't make requests often, but rumor had it some of the ones they did ask of the boys were pretty embarrassing. I tried to reassure him on that. Naturally I couldn't mention the committee to him, but his knowledge and attitudes about The Program made me confident he'd be a good person to have by my side.

We got to school early enough I was able to grab some time with Mrs. Devers and suggested him as the boy from my class.

"I know Mr. Collins. He's a good choice. But, he needs a week in the program, right?"

I nodded.

"The upper-class members aren't a problem," she went on. "We have the pick of those who've already been in The Program, and I have some candidates in mind. But all the freshmen boys have the same problem -- no program time."

"Can he be gotten into it soon enough? Who picks the people?"

"I'll take care of it. He'll be in next week, but don't tell him, of course. It's supposed to be a surprise. Which leaves us with the faculty member. He, or she -- I'm not taking anyone as a given -- will also have to be in The Program. I can't do anything on that until the committee plan is approved."

This woman doesn't waste time, was my thought. "Mom had one other -- oh oh, I hope it's all right I talked with her about the committee." I broke a sweat, afraid I'd spoiled everything.

Mrs. Devers nodded. "Knowing you and your mom, I would have worried if you hadn't. I assume she's sworn to secrecy."

"Uh huh. Anyway, she pointed out that the faculty member might automatically assume he, or she, will run the committee."

"And?"

I took a deep breath before I launched into the speech I'd been planning. "We, the students, are the ones most intimately affected by The Program, and I do mean intimately. I don't think it would be right to have the faculty member chairing the committee. He'd dominate and we'd be stifled."

"You make a good point. What do you suggest we do about it?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe the committee as a whole could elect the chair. At least that way we kids have a chance. Make it clear when the committee is formed that is the rule. Can you do that?"

Her eyes were so cool, so gray as she studied me.

"It was my mom's idea," I admitted, looking down.

Her lips quirked up in a little smile. "She's a wise woman."

"Yes'm," I agreed. "Can you do it?"

She had that secret little smile going again. "Something can be done," she answered, turning to her bookshelf and taking something down. "I think you could use this." She handed me a real thick paperback book with a gold cover.

"Robert's Rules of Order, Newly Revised," I read off the cover.

"It's virtually the bible for running a meeting of almost any kind. It'll help you keep the committee organized."

"Me? I don't want to be organizing things!"

The look she gave me wasn't reassuring, though her words were, sort of. "Right now, you are the committee. You're it. Later it can be you, or someone else," she allowed. "Find some way in there to make it so the committee elects the chair."

I looked at it, riffled through it to the back, totally intimidated. "It's 700 pages long! Small print!"

"Don't worry, you won't need ninety-nine percent of it, but that last one percent can save your bacon. It's got a good index. Don't try to read it all, just pick out the parts you may need -- like electing officers -- then we'll talk when it's time.

"Even if one of you students is chair, the faculty member may try to dominate. It'll be up to you to keep that from happening, and that," she indicated the book, "will provide the tools you need.

"Now, that's the homeroom bell, so you'd best be off. I may have more information for you by the end of the day."

The book added weight to my already heavy backpack, I heaved a sigh as I left and plunged into the day, which began with a few requests that had me juicing before I even made it to homeroom. A couple of boys toy with my nipples and it's like I've got a direct wire from them to my pussy. The teacher raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything when I put my towel down before I sat.

"Mr. O'Brien?" Mrs. Tisdale inquired in response to Dennis's waving hand.

"Uhm -- may I have relief?"

I felt a tingle at the thought of sucking him off yet again, and got a sly idea.

Mrs. Tisdale sighed. "It is only homeroom, Mr. O'Brien -- but I guess we have time, but try to listen during announcements?"

"Yes'm," he agreed, looking hopefully at me.

I didn't hesitate as he moved to lean his naked butt back against Mrs. Tisdale's desk, his prick already standing at attention. I knelt in front of him and licked my lips in anticipation. Based on my limited experience, his dick's not overly large for a fourteen-year-old, but very pretty, circumcised, with a nicely sculpted shaft capped with a lavender head. After a quick lick, I looked up, my lips almost kissing the tip. "I'm going to want relief, too, later. You want to do me in bio?" I asked softly. "I'll be happy to teach you how."

The response of his cock was all the answer I needed. I hadn't realized it could get even harder and larger! He nodded eagerly as I set to work, sliding his hot sausage down the length of my tongue, tasting his delicious seepings. I really do love the feeling of a hot, live pecker in my mouth, especially seasoned as his was with a hint of pre-come. His fingers tangled in my untamable blond locks and I heard him groan as my head moved forward, fucking my face on him.

He didn't last long. I triggered his coming, my fingers dandling the eggs in the little dusky sack between his thighs. Just to be impertinent, I let a finger stray back to tickle the pucker of his asshole just as he let fly. He gave a grunt and a lurch and his jetting pecker entered my throat. Fortunately I was able to open my esophagus to the first hot gush, so I didn't inhale it. I drew back to catch his last spurtings on my tongue, rolling them around, savoring the musky scent and the hint of saltiness. I heard a soft "oh shit" from him as his pulsings slowly faded and his cock began to shrink. I'm not sure anyone paid much attention to the announcements droning over the PA system as I drained his balls and cleaned off the last tasty oozings.