Chapter 9

When I woke up in my own bed Monday morning I had a vague memory of getting up in the middle of the night to pee. I must have staggered back here on instinct and flopped, until my clock radio woke me with that damn car commercial again.

Monday.

School.

Then reality hit me like a barrel of bricks and broken glass. My fingers clutched at the dog collar, trying to rip it off my neck. I could see my whole life crashing down, reduced to a pile of rubble with nothing but sharp edges, the whole mess teetering on the edge of a black hole that would suck my future into an abyss.

Oh pooh, you say.

You think I exaggerate? Think again. If I had done all those things my memory was vomiting up my life was over, done, finished, kaput.

Maybe it was all just a really, really, really bad dream.

I must have screamed, because Mom was there in a moment, her weight pressing down the mattress, rolling me toward her. Untangling my fingers from the collar she leaned over and gathered me into her comforting embrace. "Bad dream?"

I buried my face against her warmth, her sweet scent pushing back the mountain of doom threatening to crush me. I nodded, shuddering as I struggled to regain my wits.

I had a dismal image of me shuffling into school this morning, nude but for wrist and ankle cuffs, chains, and that damning collar, to be greeted with a chorus of barks and sardonic calls of "Fetch!" while all my friends -- Greg, Kathy, Missy, Mike, my lunch-bunch, Mrs. Devers, all the people I depended on -- turned their backs on me. Worthington stood over me, gloating as I groveled at his feet.

I was going to be the laughingstock of school.

"Did we really do what I think we did yesterday?" I managed to mumble, doing my best to escape the nightmare's clutches by burrowing further into Mom's warm embrace.

"That depends on what you think we did yesterday."

"You peed on me!"

"Actually, that was day before yesterday."

"Eeeewwwwwww! How could you DO that?" I pushed away from her.

She shrugged. "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time." She gathered me back in. "It was Elaine's idea, and you didn't seem to mind it."

Thinking back to that moment, to the whole mad weekend, I had to admit I hadn't. "The devil made me do it," I grumbled. "Speaking of the devil, is M ... Is Elaine still here?"

"Right here," Elaine said from the doorway. "Problems?"

I pried myself loose from Mom to turn on her. "Problems? PROBLEMS?? You took me to the park! Naked!! I drank out of a little bowl on the ground like a -- a -- like a dog, with everyone watching! You had me chasing a Frisbee like a demented Dalmatian!"

"More like a golden retriever, I'd say." Mom's loving fingers teased my tousled blond locks.

"You weren't naked. You were wearing cuffs and chains," Elaine reminded me calmly.

"And the Finches were there, and John, and who knows who else from school?" I wailed, collapsing backwards on my bed I pulled the pillow over my face. "I am doomed! Doomed, I tell you, doomed, Doomed, DOOMED! Throw dirt over me and put up a headstone -- one that dogs will pee on would be your first choice, I suppose."

"She's right," Mom admitted to Elaine. "Word will get around school. There was quite a crowd at the park. That will cause problems."

"Well, it was a beautiful Sunday!" Elaine pointed out. "Probably half the town was there."

I pulled the pillow off my face. "You're not helping! How could you have done that to me?"

Pillow back over face.

"You could have used your safe word anytime," Elaine reminded me.

Pillow off face -- it is hard to fulminate effectively through a pillow. It kinda takes the edge off. "Oh sure! And Mom would have lost her bet and she'd be your sex-slave for the next week!"

Return pillow to face. At least they'd dropped the 'punishment in lieu of' clause if I had bailed, not that it mattered now.

"Oh, pooh," Mom snorted. "You think I would have made that bet if I didn't think you could win it? And look who's the slave now? She is, and I'm really looking forward to it.

"Does it run from, say, next Saturday morning through to the Saturday after, Elaine? We'll have to schedule it when we both have the weekend free again."

Mom turned back to me. "And, if you hadn't stuck it out, Dee, well, there certainly are worse fates than me being Elaine's sex-slave. But the whole scene was a little over-the-top, I must admit. Don't you agree, Elaine?" Mom concluded.

"It was. But it made for a fun weekend," Mom's lover pointed out. "A nice break from the routine. Distracting. Cheaper than a cruise to the Bahamas.

"I am sorry we got a bit carried away," Elaine confessed. "I'm sorry, Dee, I really am. I didn't mean to put you or your mom in a bad position. I guess I just wasn't thinking. Not having children it just never occurred to me it would cause problems."

"Fat lot of good that does me now!" I retorted, taking the pillow off, resisting the urge to hit her with it. I had to admit they were right. I could have called a halt to the whole thing. I should have. As for why I didn't, well, I had to admit I'd enjoyed myself immensely, even that mad romp in the park. Especially that, to be brutally truthful. It really appealed to my exhibitionist streak, the air on my skin, on parts of me that were -- ahem -- spread to the breezes as I extended my stride to reach the Frisbee. I also had to admit that the whole weekend was certainly a break from the routine, and that Mom had really, really needed it. Which is, I suppose, one of the reasons I went along with it.

See, Mom had been really stressed. Last week hadn't been great for her, what with a couple of clients who couldn't make up their minds, and a major deal falling through. And then, normally, weekends were anything but relaxing for Mom. Saturdays were usually taken up by an open-house -- very stressful -- or showing potential buyers around -- just as bad -- while Sunday was housework.

But not this time. This time Mom had had Saturday totally open and, for a change, Mom's squeeze, known to the community as Dr. Elaine Smathers, Board Certified OB/GYN, -- and privately, known to us, when the mood arises, as MD, Mom's Dom -- hadn't been on call all weekend, which was a real rarity!

She and Mom had planned to spend the whole weekend doing nothing.

Well, not exactly nothing. They'd planned on exploring, in depth, their Dom/Sub relationship, if you get my drift, a relationship which relieves Mom of all responsibilities and concerns so she can really relax. A little bondage and a light flogging and all her cares melt away.

Anyway, when I'd gotten home Friday afternoon the dog collar had been on the table for Mom to wear over the weekend. Unfortunately, Worthington's letters superseded it. At the end of their hearing regarding my disrespectful deportment, the verdict had come down that this was my chance to spoil both of them and learn some humility at the same time. I'd be at the bottom of the food chain, so to speak. Elaine would rule supreme, while Mom carried out Mistress's orders vis-à-vis me.

The verdict rendered, I'd picked up the symbolic collar and put it on myself, and it just sort of mushroomed from there to a full set of cuffs and chains, total degradation and humiliation, ending with a backyard erotic flogging that had sent me over the moon. At that point my cares had melted away right along with Mom's.

All with my total cooperation, which was utterly stupid of me I now knew.

Oh was it fun!

But now, I guess the expression is, "I had to pay the piper."

I could just see it. The assignment for Mr. Turner's creative writing course would be "How I Spent My Weekend." Well, let's see. To keep it from being X rated I guess I could say I'd cleaned and scrubbed the house, done the laundry, fixed their meals, and waited on them, obeying their every command. I'd best just leave it at that.

And I had to admit it had all been an incredible turn-on. They really hadn't been mean, just deeply into the roles of that role playing game, and I had been, too. I'd had submission fantasies in the past. Who hasn't? When I was a little kid I'd gotten a tingle from the idea of being tied to a stake -- naked, of course -- at the mercy of wild Indians. If you've been paying attention you know that not long ago I'd managed to tie myself spread-eagle on Mom's bed, naked, and when they'd come home it had turned into a rather stimulating bondage session. They'd played me like a fiddle.

With the collar around my neck and the cuffs and chains on wrists and ankles, it was a perfect opportunity for me to indulge in my fantasy in the safest conceivable setting, or so I thought. Who better to introduce me to this kink than my loving mom following the orders of her loving Dom? I had to admit that I'd given myself over to the fantasy as willingly as they had taken it on themselves.

But I hadn't expected them to expose me to the whole world. Swept along by our shared fantasies I'd done nothing to call a halt to the proceedings, and now I was faced with the reality that I'd be nothing more than a steaming pile of dog-poop in the halls of good old Central High, the object of ridicule.

No wonder I'd screamed. Maybe I could go off and join the French Foreign Legion or something.

Mom was looking worried and regretful. I knew that look. She was afraid I'd never speak to her again -- I'd had occasional temper tantrums in the past and made that threat -- and it broke my heart.

"I love you," I assured her, reaching for her.

"And I love you," she assured me, giving me another hug. "I'm sorry, I guess we did go a little too far."

"Ya think?" I asked bitterly.

She looked apologetic, as did Elaine. Which did me little good, of course.

"But what am I going to do?" I wailed. "I'm going to be the butt of every dog joke for the rest of my high school career. When someone asks about me as a date the answer will be that I'm 'a real bitch' or, if I'm lucky, just 'she's a dog, ' or worse, 'a dog's lunch.' The only club that'll accept me will be the kennel club. I'll probably be known as 'Fido' from now on!"

Pushing off from the doorway where she'd been leaning, Elaine came in and stood next to Mom, a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her reassuring words to me were, "You'll do what you always do when you're faced with a problem, Dee. You'll hold your head high and march to the beat of whatever mad drummer it is that makes you you. I've never yet known you to back down from a challenge."

I had to admit she was right. Besides, what choice did I have? I heaved a sigh. Somewhere I read that people like Medal of Honor winners weren't brave. They were only people who did what they had to do. I certainly didn't feel I belonged in that community of heroes, but all I could do was what I had to do, which was face the music of my own actions.

On the other hand, maybe I'd get booted off of the committee! As Mom says, it's an ill wind that blows nobody good.

The weekend in chains hadn't swept away all my cares. At times it had given me time to mull over that whole tangle. It's amazing how mindless most housework is. As I'd literally slaved away, in a real "well doh!" moment, I'd come to the conclusion that because of my insolence Worthington was going be harder to deal with than ever. If the committee was still a "go," and I was still on it, a confrontation with him seemed inevitable.

I'd concluded I'd better be sure of my facts, and have lots of evidence, as well as solid support from Mrs. Devers and the committee. During one interlude I'd even immersed myself in the "Student Guide to the Naked in School Program," prepared by something called the "Federal Office of Social Awareness" -- lah-dee-dah! I'd paid particular attention to the section on "Reasonable Requests," taking note specifically of point number 2, and I quote:

"The Program Participant is the sole judge of the reasonability of any request that involves physical contact. Any attempts to coerce the participant into physical contact beyond what the participant finds reasonable will result in disciplinary action by the school administration in accordance with the judgment of local Program officials."

All Peggy had asked was that the Tweedles wash their hands before touching her. She'd had every right to refuse the request outright, and she hadn't, just like I'd told Worthington.

And while I'm on it, there's point 5, as it applies to me:

"No student shall ever be required to insert a foreign object into any bodily orifice as a part of a Reasonable Request or Classroom Activity."

I wish I'd known that before I let that guy shove a pickle up my butt. Not that I'd have refused, I suppose, seeing as how I enjoy anal penetration. But still, I should have known I had a choice. I should have read that damn pamphlet sooner. I still didn't know if it had been a dill pickle or a sweet pickle. All I knew was that it had been, shall we say, fulfilling? I wonder -- if it was dill, did it make my -- uh -- pucker -- pucker even more? It didn't feel like it.

But getting back to the pamphlet, what about Worthington? Had he ever read it himself? I mean, supposedly he had been trained for his position as NiS coordinator by this Federal Office of Social Awareness thing. Maybe he slept through that part of the course. Or, maybe he had his own agenda.

The question was, what could be done about it and how to do it? Would anyone listen to me after I'd made such a mutt of myself?

As I lay in bed Mom was patting me, and I put my hand on hers, thinking. Regardless of my reception at school, my next encounter with Worthington was likely to be this morning when he found himself in The Program. I was willing to bet he'd suspect I had something to do with him walking the halls naked for the next week.

Then I thought again. IF he walked the halls. I didn't recall ever seeing him away from his office. What the hell did he do in there all day? He didn't pick program participants, that was apparently done by Vice Principal Devers and others farther up the food chain. But he was supposed to be overseeing us. You'd think he'd be out keeping an eye on how the participants were doing. The only thing I could think was that he sat there in his converted closet like some kind of a troll, waiting for someone to report an alleged Program violation, when he'd leap into action.

Yeah, right. Like he'd done with Peggy. "Worthless"ton seemed particularly appropriate if that was the case.

Yeah, I'd promised not to call him that, but I could still think it.

I worried, too, about Missy, thinking I should have discussed her history with Mrs. Devers instead of assuming the Vice Principal had known about it. Maybe if I got to school in time to be there when she came out nude...

All this thinking made me antsy and I was ready to get up and face the day -- well, as ready as I'd ever be. "Time to get up, I guess."

"Usual breakfast?" Mom asked as she got off my bed.

"Extra French toast?" I asked hopefully, swinging my feet over the side. Nothing short of total Armageddon could affect my appetite.

"I'd say you've earned it," she agreed kindly. "Now get a wiggle on."

I wiggled my naked butt to the bathroom, meditating on my uniform for the day. A suit of armor might be appropriate, but last week I'd sent it out to be oiled and have the dents taken out. While there was no rule said I couldn't go to school naked, after my weekend that didn't appeal to me. The dog collar definitely had to go. I left that decorating the back of the toilet before stepping under the shower. I didn't want any hint of what I'd been wearing in the park yesterday to taint my image more than it already was tainted.

Back in my room, I stood in front of my closet. What to wear, what to wear? I contemplated my reflection in the mirror.

Amazingly, the activities hadn't left a mark on me.

I didn't want to stand out -- which was hard enough already, with me towering over most of the school -- but did want to look confident and mature.

Yeah, right. I've got my fourteenth birthday coming up, I spent Sunday in the park playing doggie style fetch with a Frisbee, and I'm s'posed to look mature.

I went with modest shorts, a nice permanent-press short-sleeved blouse -- instead of my usual tee -- and a full set of underwear including a bra I didn't really need. It was uncomfortable, but I deserved to suffer.

I even tried to tame my hair.

"You look very nice this morning," Elaine observed when I appeared in the kitchen door, the air rich with the mouth-watering scent of French toast, hot maple syrup and broiling bacon. Mom had gone all out for me, as usual.