Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Dee Does HS 4 By peregrinf

   Mom's jaw dropped, her eyes wide.  She took in me.  She took in the case
I'd dug out of her closet, took in the sex toys scattered on the floor,
looked back to me, spread like a butterfly on her bed, an obviously very
wet towel protecting her lovely satin duvet from my soggy butt, and nothing
but air between me, my aroused pussy and her staring eyes.

   I was doomed!  My whole life flashed before my eyes!  It had been such a
good life, too -- short, but definitely interesting.

   Her mouth closed with an audible snap and I hoped she hadn't chipped a
tooth, then felt guilty for thinking that maybe I should hope that that she
had, 'cause that would make it harder for her to take a bite out of me when
she opened it again.

   Then I saw her face pucker and turn pink, her throat knot, her chest
bounce.  She was making funny little noises through her nose -- "snuck,
snuck, snuck" -- and for a moment I was afraid she was having some kind of
a fit, a stroke or something as her face went from pink to red.

   "SNUCK!"

   Was she trying not to laugh?  Her lips were pinched, her jaw clenched,
beads of sweat burst from her forehead as she stood there in the doorway,
her stomach spasming.

   "MOOooooOMMMMMM!  It is NOT FUNNY!"

   That cracked her up.  The first laugh was a snort that must have shaken
her brains like Jell-O and cleared her sinuses for a week.  She coughed. 
She choked.  Finally she erupted, tipping sideways to brace herself on the
door jamb.  The walls rang with her laughter.  She was laughing so hard she
could hardly stand up, tears running down her cheeks, and I was absolutely
mortified!  I was blushing in places I didn't even know I could blush.  I
wanted to crawl in a hole and pull it in after me, but, tied as I was,
there was absolutely nothing I could do!  I thought I was going to die of
embarrassment and hoped it would be soon.  Please, God, take me now!

   No!  Wait!  At least let me come first!  THEN take me.  In spite of
everything, I was still horny as a goat.

   Then, as she slowly slid lower, and lower, her legs giving way, laughing
her head off, I snickered, maybe partly from relief, partly because Mom's
laugh is so contagious.  I tried to tell myself that even though she was
laughing it didn't mean she wasn't going to tear me a new one.  But, I
mean, really, of all the ridiculous situations I'd ever gotten myself into,
and I'd been in some real doozies, this was probably the most preposterous,
outrageous, embarrassing one since I'd shut myself in the clothes drier
pretending it was a space capsule.

   Thank god she hadn't pushed the "start" button with me in there.  On the
other hand, maybe she should have.  As it was, she'd gone for the camera,
immortalizing my mortification.  She took a picture of me peering out
through the window in the drier door, my nose and hands pressed to the
glass like a monkey in a bottle or something before she opened the door to
let me out.  At least this time she didn't do that!

   Anyway, this time I didn't need a picture to know what I looked like. 
By lifting my head I could see myself in the mirror, a lanky, naked high
school freshman, spread on the bed like a pelt stretched on a barn door, a
perfect crotch shot of my aroused pussy in full bloom between my
wide-spread legs.

   A virgin sacrifice on a Serta altar.

   Except, of course, I hadn't been a virgin for almost a year.

   Still clinging to the door frame, Mom sank to the floor, laughing like a
maniac, gasping for air between gusts of guffaws.  Trying to stifle my own
laughter I started to jiggle.  I started with snicker, a giggle, and I
couldn't stop myself, going from giggles to cackles, snorting snot out of
my own nose.

   Hysteria, that's my only excuse.  I was hysterical.  Maybe it was the
horniness made me do it.  Blame it on hormones?

   "What is going on up here?"

   Oh god!  Dr.  Smathers?  It was Dr.  Smathers!  She'd come home with
Mom?

   It only made me laugh harder, and get hornier.

   Arriving in the doorway, she took one look at me, gasped, guffawed, and
joined the chorus.  By this time I was laughing so hard I was bouncing like
a trampoline.  With my extremities anchored my middle was jumping in the
air.  If I hadn't been tied down I probably would have flown off the bed.
It was almost orgasmic -- almost.

   Mom was rolling on the floor, just inside the room, howling, while Dr.
Smathers was clinging to the door to keep from joining her.  Mom had a
deep, rich guffaw.  Dr.  Smathers was more the high cackle type.

   Together they made an interesting harmony, I guess.  I was laughing so
hard I could hardly hear anything.

   I don't know how long it went on.  One of us would start to gain
control, only to lose it again.  Tears were running from my eyes down into
my ears!  Finally we started to run down, probably out of simple
exhaustion. My whole body ached I'd laughed so hard.  Somehow my right hand
had finally come loose and I was holding my aching, naked side, wheezing,
trying to catch my breath only to be rocked by another wave of giggles. 
When I got my strength back, I reached for my left wrist, trying to
unfasten it so I could get out of this predicament.

   Still gasping, Mom crawled over, to let me loose, I thought.  But when
she hauled herself to her knees, instead she took my right hand and dragged
it away.

   "Oh no!  I think you deserve the full experience!" she said, still
chuckling.

   I tried to pull away, but I was too weak, and it was only a moment's
work for her to snap the tether to the cuff.

   "Moooommm!" I tugged at the restraints, now well and truly helpless, and
my horniness only increased.  I was so aware of my total exposure, my
vulnerability.  Shit.  I wanted to come so badly.  How could she do this to
me?

   "Definitely," Dr.  Smathers gasped out, tottering over to sit on the bed
beside me as Mom left the room for some reason.  She casually took
possession of my naked right tit, her thumb toying with my nipple, making
me gasp.  My god it was sensitive, and there wasn't a thing I could do to
stop her!  Not that I wanted to.  I wanted to come.

   I was a mess!  Tears of laughter had pooled around my eyes, dribbled
down the sides of my face.  I was snuffling and tasting the snot on my
upper lip.  Mom came back from the bathroom with a warm, wet washrag.  She
tenderly washed the mucus and tears off my face before she knelt by the bed
again.  "Sweet baby," she said, before giving me a loving kiss on the lips.


   "Now let's see, what do I have here for you?" she muttered, pawing
through the stuff on the floor.  "Ahhh, here we go, just the thing."

   She came up with a dildo that looked big enough for a horse!

   "MOM!" I protested.

   "Now dear, this is what you wanted to experience, isn't it?" Mom asked
sweetly.  She did something to the dildo and it buzzed like my electric
toothbrush.  When it touched my pussy I let out a shriek, then I moaned as
she slowly slid it up inside me.  Oh god it was big, and long, and it felt
soooooo GOOD!

   "We don't want it slipping out, darling," Dr.  Smathers pointed out to
Mom when my cunt contracted, trying to evict the invader.  She grabbed a
pillow and jammed it between my thighs to hold the humming monster inside
me.

   "Now I don't know about you, dear, I could use a drink," the good doctor
said, standing up and unbuttoning her blouse.  "But let's get comfortable
first, shall we?"

   Mom got up and started getting undressed.  Were they going to leave me
like this?

   The good doctor was already down to her undies and as she quickly shed
those said, "No, dear, you know how much I enjoy undressing you."

   Mom stood there submissively as Dr.  Smathers peeled her, exposing some
truly sexy underwear, a lacy bra that cupped my Mom's full, motherly tits,
matching panties that cupped her shaved pussy.  Before going to work this
morning Mom had obviously dressed for her lover.

   With every move, Dr.  Smathers lovingly touched and stroked Mom's
exposed flesh, cupped and fondled her lush breasts, stroked Mom's sides to
her hips, kissing her.  The panties stuck to my mother's obviously juicy
folds as Dr.  Smathers dragged them down, holding the lace for her step out
of them.  Down on her knees, Dr.  Smathers took a moment to cup Mom's ass
and nuzzle her face into her cunt, to lick her slit, making her quiver.

   When she stood up, Dr.  Smathers looked at the soggy underwear dangling
from her fingers, and turned to me as she wadded it up.  "We don't want her
disturbing the neighbors."

   I tried to protest.  "This is child ab-mmmmppphhhh!"

   She stuffed Mom's soggy panties in my mouth.  I tried to tongue them
out.

   "Here, use this to hold them in," Mom said, offering a Velcro strap.

   My protest was limited to "Mpphhh!"

   I was swamped in Mom's scent and taste.  It was obvious Mom had been
anticipating this evening with her favorite OB/GYN.  All day she'd probably
left puddles wherever she sat.

   I have to say the doctor -- oh, heck-- Auntie Elaine -- she's asked me
to call her that -- has a truly wonderful body, athletic, more compact than
Mom's, with firm tits that need no bra, a trim tummy.  From my own pelvic
exam I knew how strong and skilled her hands were.

   The two of them carefully hung up their nice work clothes, making a
point of brushing against each other as they did, touching and teasing,
bare skin against bare skin.  OOooo that looked so sexy!  Once they were
done they embraced, body to body, and kissed deeply before heading for the
door.

   They were going to leave me like this?  I whined through the soggy gag.
It wasn't that I was being hurt or anything but I sure as hell was
frustrated.  I was so hopeful when Mom came over to me, but instead of
releasing me, or at least relieving me somehow, she carefully tightened the
tethers, stretching me even tighter before giving me a loving kiss on the
forehead and patting my tummy affectionately, making it flinch.  The
FOREHEAD!  That was NOT where I wanted to be kissed!  My tits yes, at least
my lips, my twat especially, but my forehead?!

   "Now don't go anywhere, sweetie.  We'll be right downstairs if you need
us.  You have a nice time, maybe you can nap a little bit."

   Oh yeah, right!  How could I possibly nap with that buzzing monster
buried in my cunt?

   "MmmmMMMFFFMMmmmmmm."

   "I do think she probably should be disciplined for getting into our
things without permission," Elaine observed as she led Mom out of the room.


   Oh oh.  Disciplined?  Visions of the cat o' nine tails lashing my flesh
made me sweat.  I was strung out on the bed, tight as a violin string,
totally helpless, my insides slowly turning to jelly from the vibrations
buzzing through me, inhaling my mom's sexy pussy scent, tasting her
luscious juices, knowing that when they came back they could do anything
they wanted to me!

   I was totally at their mercy, and my mind went crazy imagining what they
might inflict on me.

   The Stick advised me that if this was child abuse, shouldn't we make the
most of it?  Having been given a lemon, could we somehow make lemonade?

   I pointed out to my alter ego that the way I was juicing I could stock a
Sunkist plant.

   If nothing else, I am a pragmatist -- one of my language arts words from
last year.  I rode the wave of horniness, or tried to, but that vibrating
demon stuffing my oozing cunt was as much a distraction as a joy.  It
didn't quite touch the right spots, so I kept missing the wave.  I would
get close, so close, but couldn't make it over the top.  My hips were
humping, trying, trying, trying to bring that wonderful explosion of
pleasure but I just couldn't quite make it.

   I tried fantasizing again.  I imagined Greg looking down at me, seeing
his beautiful cock, so hard and drooling for me.  I tried to pretend it was
his wonderful dick buried in my pussy instead of some mechanical beast, but
I knew from wonderful experience that Greg's dick felt hot and alive, and
it didn't buzz!  I tried to somehow get some pressure on my clit, but the
damn bindings wouldn't let me!  I couldn't squeeze my thighs together,
couldn't roll over to hump the pillow jamming the vibrator inside me.  I
couldn't even reach my tits!  My arms were stretched to the limit!  All I
could do was sort of wriggle on the bed, and barely do that.

   AAARRRRRGGHHHHH!  I wanted to come so badly it hurt!

   Not being a boy, I don't know what "blue balls" feel like, but I was
sure enduring the female equivalent.  I tightened my buttocks -- no good. I
tried clenching my cunt muscles -- oooooo, that felt good!  Try again --
clench, clench -- mmmmmmmm.  Oh yeah!  Clench, clench, clench.  Better! 
Try clench and hold -- cuh-lench, cuh-leennch, cuh-l-le-lench,
cuh-le-ng-ng-ng-whooopeeeee.

   Oh boy!  I was like a kid with a new toy!  Catching my breath I let my
body relax and slide down from the peak.  Then I began again -- clench,
clench, clench, cuh-lench, cuh-leennnch,
cuuuuh-le-le-lee-leeennchchchchhhhh-ng-ng-ng-ng-ng-mmmmmmmmmmmm--sigh!  I
went all limp, sated, let myself sink into the bed.  MMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

   "Why, I do believe she managed to bring herself off!" Auntie Elaine
observed some timeless interval later.

   I must have dozed off.  I knew if my mouth hadn't been jammed with Mom's
underwear I would have had a sappy smile all over my face.

   "Maybe she's learned her lesson," Mom observed, the Velcro strap parting
with a ripping sound.  She extracted her panties from my mouth.  Between
her juices and my spit they were sopping, of course.

   "PFLAHHHH!" I tried to get the taste of it out of my mouth.  It had
gotten stale after a while.

   Removing the pillow and extracting the vibrator from my pussy, Auntie
Elaine laughed.  "Judging by the sodden state of the towel she sure learned
something.  "

   With the gag gone, I indulged in the sappy smile as I savored the memory
of those self-induced orgasms.

   "Are you all right, darling?" Mom released my wrists.

   Even the stinging pain as I dragged my arms down didn't bother me.  I
wrapped Mom up and drew her down to hug her and we kissed a real good, spit
swapping kiss.

   "Mmm-more than okay," I admitted.  Experimentally, I clenched my weary
vagina one more time.

   "Whoa!" Auntie Elaine mopped at the flood that gushed from my pussy,
then tested the floor of my vagina in her gynecological way.  "I'd say her
Kegel muscles are the strongest I've ever felt!  Next time she lets her
boyfriend in there he's in for a surprise!"

   "Is that what they're called?" I purred as I stretched and pushed myself
up on my elbows, my feet still tied and spread.

   "Named after the German doctor that discovered them.  Yours are world
class," Auntie Elaine observed, testing them.  Finishing playing in my
playground, she unfastened my legs and removed the cuffs from my ankles as
Mom did the ones on my wrists.

   "You know, all you had to do was ask," Mom pointed out.

   I made an embarrassed face and agreed with her, then brightened up. 
"But this was a lot more fun."

   Mom chuckled.  "I haven't laughed so hard since the time...."

   "I shut myself in the drier," I finished for her, blushing again.

   "Well, now that we've all had some fun," Elaine said, "I'm hungry."

   "So'm I," I admitted.  "Famished."

   "And you probably have homework," Mom observed.  "But I think you'd
better shower before anything, young lady."

   "Yes'm," I agreed.  I reeked.

   Afterwards the three of us sat around the table, naked, eating some of
Mom's delicious stroganoff, fresh from the freezer through the microwave to
the table, while I pondered things.

   How could I ask my mom why she and Auntie Elaine did what they do? 
Could I ask if she's a domme or a sub?  How could I possibly ask her if
she's a top or a bottom?  To me she will always be the top, the domme. 
She's Mom, she MY mom.

   "When I'm tied up, under Elaine's control, I'm in another world," Mom
observed softly, toying with a mushroom.  "No worries.  No decisions.  I'm
more free that way than I am in the real world."

   It was as if she was reading my mind.

   She popped the mushroom in her mouth and savored it, looking at Elaine
Smathers with an expression so devoted, so blissful it made the good doctor
duck her head and blush before she looked back at Mom and reached for her
hand to give it a loving squeeze.

   I ducked my own head, struck by that silent communication they shared.
Thinking back to my brief time in bondage I got an inkling of what she was
talking about.  After they'd left me, I'd given myself up to the moment.  I
hadn't realized what a gift that lemon they'd handed me was until I'd made
lemonade of it -- gallons of it.

   I also realized what a hard thing it is to be a mom, a single mom,
always wondering and worrying -- about paying the bills, about making sure
there's clean laundry, about getting the car serviced, about getting food
on the table.  Worrying about where the next commission was coming from to
pay the bills, where the next home seller, the next house buyer, was coming
from, worrying about getting the plumbing fixed, the house painted,
changing the batteries in the smoke alarms -- so many things I never
worried about.

   Worrying about what her wacky daughter is going to do next.

   Finished with my stroganoff, I took my dishes to the sink, went around
the table and bent to give my mom the biggest, warmest hug I could possibly
give her.  "I'll take care of the dishes after I get my homework done."

   Then I gave "auntie" Elaine a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  "Thank you,"
I whispered in her ear.

   Then I was off to my room to sort out all the stuff I'd gotten on this
first day of high school.  After that, and doing the dishes, when I was
snuggled down in the warm, soft bed my mom had made for me, when I heard
the strange noises in the night I knew what was going on.  I imagined Mom
tied to the bed while Auntie Elaine made her forget all her worries for at
least a little while, and promised myself I wouldn't do anything that
worried her.

   But how could I keep a promise like that?  Kids being kids, and me being
me means stuff happens.  And anyway, Mom being Mom meant she worried, and
being the kind of kid I am she had every reason.

   * * *

   I did try, honest I did.  During the next week I slid smoothly into the
new rhythm of high school.  It wasn't crazy different from middle school,
except for unfamiliar teachers and tougher courses.  I got to know some of
the kids in my classes, and the boundaries between the various middle
schools began to break down, especially since I knew more than a few from
swimming.

   Beth and Carl had advised me to get to know lots of people.  There was
no distinction as to sex.  I noticed the guys' butts, the girls' boobs. 
There were some hunky guys -- not that they compared well with Greg, of
course -- some almost as tall as me, and probably growing faster so
eventually they'd pass me.  There were a few girls that intrigued me, too.
I shared two classes with Greg -- bio and German -- and managed to grab
time with him before school, at lunch, and after school, snatches of chat
and a few discrete snuggles, nothing more. .

   And there was Kathy Powers.  In spite of all we'd already done I was
still shy about approaching her, so I kinda hung back, seeing her in the
halls, so tall and confident.  I hadn't forgotten my promise to Stephanie,
but still couldn't quite believe Kathy needed anything I could do for her.

   Things didn't get complicated until the second week of school, the first
week of The Program, when Peggy Hughes from my middle school lunch-bunch
was chosen as the freshman girl.  Peggy of all people!  If I'd known they'd
pick her I would have volunteered to replace her.  She's the most shy,
modest girl I know.  She didn't even like undressing in front of other
girls in the locker room.  She did it, but wasn't comfortable with it,
always keeping her back turned, looking away if someone naked should cross
her line of sight.  At slumber parties she wore fuzzy pajamas with feet
while the rest of us were in old oversized t shirts and, maybe but not
always, panties, or baby doll nighties.

   She is also the cleanest person in the universe!  She washes her hands
before going potty, and after.  In case there's no sink handy she carries
those moist towelettes to wipe her hands with before every meal, and bathes
every morning.  Oh, she wasn't obsessive compulsive, just careful.  If
you'd ever seen her on the soccer field you'd know mud and blood didn't
bother her -- she was a vicious tackler -- as long as there was a good,
preferably private shower after the game and lots of anti-infection
ointment and bandages for her abrasions.

   I've gotta admit it pays off -- she's almost never sick.  She had a
perfect attendance record in middle school, even after she got her first
period, when most of us used the first minor cramp as an excuse to take a
day off.

   So, when we heard her being called to the office before the homeroom
bell, we assembled our forces outside the Principal's door, determined to
protect her when she emerged.

   She came out like a mouse being released into a cage full of hungry
cats, timidly, trying vainly to cover her lovely, blossoming body with its
bubble-licious boobies and delicate fluff between her thighs.  She was
greeted, of course, by the usual cheers and applause, a few whistles.

   Fran, bold and brassy as ever, took Peggy under her motherly arm,
drawing the blushing nudie protectively against her bulk, and the rest of
us formed up around them, offering love and encouragement.  Behind Peggy
came her partner, a kid blushing as red as the hair on his head, with
enough freckles for six people and a hard-on that was already begging for
relief.  He was in my homeroom, too!  I wondered if there was a chance he'd
want relief there, instead of waiting until first period.  Yum!

   But, getting back to Peggy, our schedules were distributed well enough
that one of us would be with her during and between at least the first of
her classes, handing her off like the baton in a relay foot-race.

   So, of course, it had to happen on my watch!

   But I'm getting ahead of myself.

   The gods smiled before they frowned.  In homeroom the red-headed kid --
his name was Dennis -- bashfully admitted to wanting relief, so my hand
shot up, of course.  My reputation having preceded me, the choice was a
no-brainer and I was happy to kneel in front of him as he blushed like a
fire-engine, his beautiful dick jutting from the soft, pale red curls at
its base, was already drooling eagerly.

   I caught the first drip on my tongue.  It was a beautiful cock, slender
and firm, a soft plum-head that my lips engulfed.  I licked the underside
and he groaned, his hands going to my head.  I let him draw my head toward
him, sliding the head of his cock to the back of my tongue.  It was logical
to assume he wasn't going to last long, which was a good thing as we were
close to the bell for first period.

   I enjoyed the taste and feel of his meat, the soft skin over a hard
core, the spongy consistency of the glans, the musky saltiness of his
pre-come, my head bobbing to fuck my face with his prick.  I slid the backs
of my fingers up the inside of his naked thighs, my fingertips finding his
balls in their soft sack, and I toyed with them gently, rolling them
around, and that was all it took.  His penis pulsed against my tongue and I
was suddenly awash with his gooey flood, swallowing quickly to capture
every delicious morsel.  He was grunting, and I moaned as I savored his
juices, slowly drawing back as his spurtings faded.

   He had a blissful grin as he leaned back against the teacher's desk.  I
carefully licked him as clean as I could, gave the tip of his dick a quick
kiss and scrambled to my feet to the sound of thunderous applause, the
class bell adding a final exclamation point to my performance.

   I couldn't' resist it -- I was at least six inches taller than Dennis --
I gave him a pat on the head.  Turning around I gave a silly little curtsey
to the class, tugging at the cuffs of my shorts, before returning to my
desk to gather up my stuff for classes.

   The morning was going just fine until I gathered up Peggy after second
period and was escorting her to her third period Spanish class, and who
should appear in front of us but Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber, as we'd
taken to calling our sophomore Neanderthals.

   "Gimme a feel," Tweedle Dumb announced, blocking us in the hall,
reaching for Peggy.  The poor girl reflexively flinched back.

   I interposed myself -- that's what Secret Service agents do when someone
attacks the President, they interpose themselves between the President and
the assailant.  I figured if it's good enough for them it's good enough for
Peggy.  "I'm sorry, was there a request in there somewhere?"

   "I want a feel of the little cunt," he insisted, trying to push me
aside.

   "That's sounds more like a demand than a request," I countered, standing
firm.  "What's the magic word?"

   "Please," he retorted sarcastically.

   "Are your hands clean?" Peggy asked, peeking around me.

   "Huh?" Dumb looked at his grubby paws.

   "Y -- y -- you have to wash your hands first, if you want to touch me,"
Peggy insisted nervously.

   I almost choked trying to keep a straight face.  You go girl!  I
thought. "You heard her.  You want to touch her you have to go wash your
hands," I explained.

   "You're shittin' me!"

   "You can't touch me until you wash your hands!" Peggy insisted
staunchly.

   "Seems to me that's a reasonable request," I countered.

   "Hey, we're the ones doin' the requestin' here!" Dumber protested.

   "I told you that first day, guys, reasonable requests works both ways!"
I reminded them, knowing I was treading on thin ice as far as Program rules
went.  I don't think there was anything about a program participant making
requests of people not in The Program.  Hmmmm.  Something about that....  I
set the thought aside for the moment.

   "It seems only reasonable, and fair!  Wash your hands, doofus!  It's her
body you're asking to touch.  She doesn't want your cooties."

   "I ain't got cooties!"

   "Read my lips," I came back.  "If you want to touch her, wash your
hands! What part of 'Wash .  Your .  Hands' don't you understand?"

   "Quit shittin' me."

   "No wash, no touch.  Right, Peggy?"

   "Right."

   By then we'd acquired a bit of a crowd and people seemed to be choosing
up sides -- the girls on Peggy's side, for the most part, the boys -- well,
boys will be boys.  The gorillas looked around, then at each other, and
shambled off in the direction of the boys' room.

   "And don't forget under your fingernails," Peggy added courageously.

   That brought a laugh from the girls as the crowd dissolved and Peggy and
I made our escape.

   "Do you think I'll get in trouble?" Peggy asked nervously.

   "Why should you?"

   "Didn't I refuse a reasonable request?"

   "No, you just wanted them to wash their hands, and I don't blame you. 
Those guys are about as sanitary as a sewer.  Relax.  And anyway, if
there's any trouble I'll be there to back you up."

   "Would you?"

   "That's what friends are for.  Now relax, those goons won't file a
complaint." Leaving Peggy at her class, I headed off to mine, feeling
virtuous.

   But I should have known my noble deed would bite me in the butt, or
rather us in our collective butts.  At lunch a courier came trotting up to
our table and handed Peggy a note.  She looked at it, blanched and started
to tear up.

   Fran snatched the note out of Peggy's trembling fingers.  "Uh oh.  A
Program violation?"

   Shit!  "Lemme see that."

   She passed it over.  "Refusing a reasonable request," Fran announced to
the table at large.  "Report to the office immediately."

   It was a very officious looking form -- name, class, nature of offense,
signed by someone named "Douglas Worthington."

   "You didn't do anything," I assured Peggy.  "Did you?  I mean, yeah,
there were the Tweedles, but did you turn down anyone else?"

   "No one else asked," she admitted.  She seemed a bit disappointed, which
surprised me.  "Really, I woulda let 'em touch me if they'd just washed
their hands.  Honest!  In fact, the idea kinda turned me on ...  a lot. 
Even a moist towelette would have been enough, and I'd've given it to them,
even, if I'd had the chance."

   I was a little surprised.  This was a girl who, at a recent party,
changed into her sleeper in a closet.  Now, here she was, half-way through
her first day naked in school and ready to be fondled.  I had to admit, the
thought had occurred to me that she'd just latched on to a convenient
excuse on the spur of the moment to keep from being touched, but I should
have known that wasn't the case.  She's not like that.  She's so honest it
sometimes gets her in trouble.  Once a friend had asked Peggy what she
thought of a new hairdo, and Peggy had told the girl.  It had put a serious
crimp in the friendship for awhile, even though the 'do really did look
like the asker had plugged her finger into a light socket.

   But Peggy had learned from that.  Now she'd answer something like "it's
very interesting" and leave it at that.

   "C'mon, let's get this over with." I got up and picked up my tray.

   "Where are you going?" Fran asked.  "What happened?"

   "She told Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber -- you know, the dogs guarding
the door every morning?  -- that if they wanted to touch her they had to
wash their hands.  In my book that's not refusing a reasonable request, it
is establishing a condition -- no washee no touchee.  I promised I'd back
her up if she got called in for it."

   "That'll teach you to keep your mouth shut," Fran laughed.  "Careful,
you might find yourself in the program with her."

   "Like that would bother me?" I threw back over my shoulder as I led the
way out of the lunchroom, many eyes following our departure.  Once in the
hall I shortened my stride so Peggy wouldn't arrive at the office out of
breath.  According to the note we had to report to "The Program Enforcement
Officer." Apparently unwilling to deal with these trifles, the Principal's
Office had delegated this authority to some underling below the level even
of Assistant Vice Principal.

   "What're we gonna say?"

   "We tell the truth.  How can they refute that?"

   How indeed.  Such is the mind of bureaucrats.  Retreating to the rule
book, they refuse to be swayed by sweet reason.  In Mr.  Worthington's
defense -- yes, it was a guy, but I don't think a woman would have done any
different -- he was young and new on the job, probably fresh out of school
administrator school, if there is such a thing.  He wasn't very tall, well,
compared to me, anyway, with a baby-smooth complexion that didn't look like
it needed a razor, while his prematurely thinning hair was arranged in a
comb-over that looked like a Venetian blind.  His voice was nasal and
grating.

   Peggy explained the situation, but all he did was purse his lips and
shake his head, so I explained it my way.  "She wasn't objecting to the
request, only asking for a little hygiene on their part."

   "She refused a request...," he insisted.  He had his rule book, and that
was that.

   "But she didn't!" I protested.

   "She did.  Mr.  Cagney had made a reasonable request and she refused it.
I have witnesses."

   Who was "Mr.  Cagney" I wondered, Tweedle Dumb or Tweedle Dumber? 
Anyway, there'd been a crowd, so what had been said was public record. 
Can't challenge that.

   "All she wanted was for him to wash his hands!"

   "There's nothing in the rules that allow the requestee...."

   "The who?  'Requestee?' I don't think that's even a word!"

   "The requestee is not allowed to decline a reasonable request, and a
simple touch is certainly a reasonable request," Worthington persisted,
shaking the book at me.

   "But who knows where his hand had been?  It might have been up his nose
for all we know, or up someplace worse!"

   "It was a simple touch, probably only to her breast." He reached as if
to demonstrate and Peggy flinched away, surprised, and he frowned at her.

   I'd heard enough stories to know that a "simple touch" usually evolved
into something more intimate -- more, shall we say, penetrating.

   So we went back and forth and around and around on this a few times, but
he wouldn't budge.  Okay, I admit, I was getting a bit frustrated, and my
voice rose, and he started to get a little red in the face.

   "Miss Walker, I have heard all I am going to hear from you.  One more
word, and you'll join her in The Program for the rest of this week, and
perhaps next," he snapped after I'd finished my impassioned plea.

   What?  Threatening me with getting naked as punishment?  He obviously
didn't know me.  I'd always thought that was a silly punishment anyway,
since The Program was meant to be a positive experience.  Mom and me and
Carl and Beth had discussed that at supper during Beth's time in The
Program and come to the same conclusion.  I was still formulating a reply
to that threat, something that wouldn't break the rules of civil
conversation, to say nothing of vulgarity, but he turned to Peggy.

   "Miss Hughes...."

   Peggy cringed, undoubtedly having visions of being held down on a bench
in the school's hallway and being spanked with a ruler, one of the totally
anachronistic and sadistic penalties for refusing a request.

   I had to try again.  "Mr.  Worthington...."

   He cut me off, pointing at me.  "You're in The Program, Miss Walker, as
of now, for your insubordination.  A letter of reprimand will go home to
your parents or guardians, and be placed in your file.

   "As for you Miss Hughes, since this is a minor infraction I'll only note
it on your record.  I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you
were under the influence of Miss Walker here, who seems to feel free to
ignore any rule she chooses to.  However, any further violations and
disciplinary action is mandatory.  Why are you still dressed, Miss Walker?"


   I began stripping, muttering under my breath.  Parents or guardians?  I
liked that!  He knew nothing about me at all!  I have Mom, you jerk, and
she's worth any number of you!  And like I really cared if I was in the
program?  I probably spend half my public life naked.

   "What was that, Miss Walker?"

   "Nothing, sir." I decided I'd already said too much and shut up for fear
of making things worse for Peggy.  Changing tactics, I remembered how Mom
had dealt with an unresponsive telephone company customer service rep. 
Maybe I could appeal to wiser heads further up the food chain.

   "I'm sorry, Mr.  Worthington.  I did not mean to be disrespectful.  I do
understand that you have a job to do and rules to follow, and I apologize.
I'm sure you have followed The Program regulations to the letter." And
logic be damned, I thought.

   "Well, I'm glad you've seen the light, Miss Walker, but my ruling
stands. A week in The Program should do you a world of good." He was
insufferably smug.

   "Yessir," I agreed contritely.  "I understand your position.  I'd even
like to make sure your -- uh -- boss knows of your steadfast adherence to
the rules."

   Never let it be said I didn't have a silver tongue to accompany my
rapier wit.  Okay, maybe I was laying it on with a trowel, but it caught
him off balance, as I hoped it would.  "There's no need to bother them with
this, Miss Walker."

   Maybe it was because I was down to skin so I appealed to his gonads --
if he had any -- with my svelte curves, but I prefer to think it was my
awesome powers of persuasion.  Regardless, when I assured him I had nothing
but the best to say of him to his boss, and that I felt his diligence
deserved to be recognized, he relented, probably figuring a mere teenager
would not have the perseverance to follow up.

   Like I say -- he didn't know me, at all.  And when he told me who he
reported to I knew I had him in my clutches.  Unfortunately for him, the
next one up the chain of command, it turned out, was Vice Principal Devers,
a woman I had very good relations with, given that her daughter was the
backstroker on our county champion medley relay team.

   "Thank you, sir.  I'll make sure she knows what a fine job you're doing.
I assume I'm to pick up my clothes at the office at the end of school, and
tomorrow I should undress in the usual location?"

   "Yes, Miss Walker, and let this be a lesson to you."

   Meanwhile, Peggy was tugging at my hand, wanting nothing more than to be
out of there.  We emerged from Worthington's office to be greeted by the
post-lunch throng.

   I was about to get my first up close and personal encounter with the
Naked In School Program.

   Then I remembered what Worthington had said about a letter going home to
Mom, and groaned.  I'd done it again.  Well, at least I wasn't suspended
this time, and I was confident that Mom would understand once I explained
it to her.  In fact, I'd better get my explaining in before the letter
arrived to minimize the shock.