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 Dee STP 17 by peregrinf

   The APPLAUSE sign above the stage went out, but like over-enthusiastic
trained seals the audience went on barking and clapping.  They finally
returned to their cages -- uh seats -- when our hostess began talking over
them.

   "Thank you, thank you.  Thank you very much.  I am very pleased to
welcome our guests to GabFest's stage this afternoon, Miss Diane Walker and
her mother, Katherine...."

   And it is SHOWTIME!  The stage manager had shit a brick when I emerged
from the green room stripped naked, but he didn't hesitate to give me a
nudge in the small of my back at the introduction.  I wouldn't have minded
a pat on my butt, either, of course.

   "...As you probably already know -- whoops...!"

   I emerged from the wings to strut my stuff -- all of my stuff -- leaving
the backstage crew rolling on the floor laughing at their boss's
consternation.  By way of contrast Mom was right behind me wearing her
finest top-drawer real estate agent uniform - knee-length pleated navy
skirt, ivory satin blouse with conservative ruffles under a navy blazer, a
little gold and diamond pin in the lapel, which she'd earned as top agent
in the district over the last five years, carrying her attaché case.  There
were whistles and catcalls, but I don't think they were for her, which is
too bad 'cause she really looks sharp in that outfit.

   Ah me.  Judging by the reception I was faced with the mental equivalent
of a middle school audience.  Well, they were in for an education this day.


   Pro that she was, Gabby Pomfret, our interviewer -- the "Gab" of GabFest
-- quickly regained her poise.  After all, this was live TV!

   "Well!  I guess I should have expected she'd make a dramatic entrance!

   "But to go on, as you probably know, until now The Board of Education
has steadfastly refused all our requests to present on our show -- or any
other show, for that matter -- their side of the controversial Naked in
School program, better known simply as The Program."

   Not that I was there with the approval of the Board of Ed you
understand. Anything but!

   "As most of you probably already know, and can obviously see, Miss
Walker is here representing Central High School's controversial Naked in
School program.  Recently Miss Walker led an impromptu naked bicycle ride
through the downtown area to draw attention to the controversial NiS
program, rumored to be a source of recent unrest in the school corridors."

   I swear she talked in italics, her drawl emphasizing the key words to
extract the desired reaction from her audience.  And if she said
"controversy" or "controversial" one more time I was going to gag.

   More tumult from the unwashed.  I'm glad I had Mom there for backup.  As
rewarding as the reaction to my nudity was it had only made the natives
more restless.  The camera operators -- one of them a woman -- were fogging
their viewfinders, the men drooling like bassets over a steak.  I was very
conscious of the all-seeing lenses tracking me across the stage.

   Obviously Mom and I were in enemy territory, a conservative bastion long
an outlet for venomous rants and dire predictions of the collapse of our
society and culture.

   GabFest, our local TV station's community talk show, was top-rated in
its afternoon time slot, thanks primarily to catering to humanity's taste
for the lurid and salacious while ranting about demon liberal politicians
and the decline of civilization.  In my opinion it wasn't much of a
civilization if a few naked teenagers could bring it down, and this show
was hardly an example of the best our culture could produce.

   Which, of course, was the main reason we'd chosen it to mount our
counterattack.  What's the use of preaching to the choir?  The
unpredictability of being broadcast live and working before a live audience
only added a bit of zest to the exercise.

   I had no illusions that I was raising its tone with my appearance.  I
was doing my best to cater to its audience in the hopes of correcting the
mistaken impressions about The Program.

   I note for the record that none of The Powers That Be had been consulted
about my appearance.  Even Mrs.  Devers could truthfully claim she knew
nothing.  I admit I was following her observation, given to me after I'd
lubricated the School Board's chairs with aloe gel, that it's sometimes
better to do something and apologize afterwards than ask permission and
risk being turned down.

   The only other person who knew was Maria -- I had not forgotten her
teamwork lesson.

   I had to ask myself what in hell was I doing here, only to admit it was
my own damn fault.  My exhibitionism on behalf of The Program had finally
bitten me in my bare butt.  Leading the naked bike parade around town at
rush hour had made a bigger splash than a belly flop off the ten-meter
platform.  And if you're thinking Greg's and my first fuck in full view at
my birthday party topped the naked bike ride, keep in mind the audience for
that had been limited to family and friends, while my zip-line fly-in at
the pep rally had drawn a crowd only to the school's baseball diamond. 
Grid locking downtown at rush hour got a lot more attention.

   The day after my ride we -- Mom, Elaine and I -- were besieged in our
home by vultures masquerading as reporters.  It took a police escort to get
me to school, which was all but locked down to keep the news hounds out. 
The media wanted pictures, of course, and some wanted to get much too up
close and entirely too personal, so we circled our wagons.  While the
police kept the reptiles at bay and discouraged sneak attacks, our backyard
pool was unusable thanks to tree climbers, hot-air balloonists, traffic
helicopters and probably drones and satellites, all with long telephoto
lenses.

   Now understand, we don't mind being seen nude -- at least I don't -- but
we wanted to keep our private lives private.  What happens in our house, on
our property, stays there.  Period.

   At least since my leashed and collared romp in the park, that is.  We
all have these little slipups.

   In reaction to this attention, my first attempt to control the media had
been a sit-down after school that first day after the ride -- there went
swimming practice, darn it -- with a young, sympathetic intern
reporter/photographer for the local dead-tree daily.  A Central High grad
in my brother's class, she'd gone through the program herself, which
helped.

   Unfortunately, that appearance turned out to be nothing more than chum
on the water.  Deprived of facts, the media indulged in a frenzy of rumor
and speculation, most of it scandalously inaccurate.  The Powers That Be
huddled behind closed doors, dithering over what to do, wanting to throw me
to the dogs but afraid of the bad publicity that might create.  Finally,
after a week of it, I decided to go on the offensive on the theory that by
full -- or over exposure, in my case -- we might succeed in fighting fire
with fire by getting the accurate story out and, at the same time, lure the
trolls said to be after me out of their holes.

   That's one reason I made sure Maria knew about my TV debut.  I wanted
her covering my back.

   Note for the record: Maria was not happy I was putting myself in harm's
way -- again.

   Given Gabby's reaction to my display of skin it looked like my first
spark had found dry tinder.  This was what her show thrived on, sex and
controversy.  My nakedness was perfectly legal thanks to the decree that
established The Program.  I imagined phones ringing all over town as
friends alerted friends to my display, while the station's switchboard lit
up like Hollywood Boulevard.  A naked teenager could still boost ratings,
and being tall, athletic, and pubic-ly bald I offered a lot of nakedness.

   I gave the audience and cameras a further thrill by sticking my butt out
at them when I bent over to make kissy face with the somewhat shorter
Gabby, a well stacked bottle blonde with a pixie cut, fashionably
horn-rimmed glasses, more teeth than a great white and the delivery of a
brass band.  At her invitation Mom and I took our places center stage on
the loveseat -- me on a towel, of course -- angled toward where she
occupied an easy chair, a table beside her for her mug of whatever and a
stack of index cards.

   Nervous?  Me?  You bet your ass!  This woman had a reputation for going
for the jugular.  Given my 'druthers I'd prefer doing an inward
three-and-a-half off the platform into a damp sponge.  After reaching out
for a sip of water from the glass on the coffee table in front of us I sat
back and demurely crossed my ankles, using the monitor facing us to analyze
the camera angle.  For now I'd give 'em tits, navel and knees, saving my
big gun for later.

   Mom dug into her attaché case -- it hadn't been just for show -- and
handed me the notes we'd all collaborated on.

   "Now Diane -- may I call you Diane?" Gabby began innocuously.

   I fired a warning shot across her bow.  "My friends call me Dee," I
responded in a cool tone.  "I'd prefer Diane for now."

   "Oh, yes, -- uh -- well, Diane...."

   "Thank you, Gabby.  And this is my Mom."

   "You can call me Katherine," my mother added with a slight smile, "or
Ms. Walker."

   "A pleasure, Katherine, thank you."

   In what was called the green room -- which was actually baby-barf beige
-- Mom and I had decided we'd let Gabby set the ball rolling.  Accordingly
we let silence settle on the stage like a dead whale, leaving it for her to
kick away, conversationally speaking.  I had my agenda, and she had hers.

   This was going to be like fishing, only who was the fish and who the
fisher?

   "Yes, well, uh, Diane.  Perhaps we should begin with how you came to be
involved in The Naked in School Program in the first place.  I understand
your brother was one of the early participants."

   "He was," I admitted.

   "That must have made life at home rather interesting for you?  He's
what? Four years older than you?  You must have been about eleven?  That
must have been quite exciting and educational." She flashed a suggestive
smile and wink at the camera.

   Cue the chorus.  Unlike my Lunch Bunch of five or six girls this one was
about ten times larger and had tenor and baritone sections.  Given it was
in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday I suspect it was largely made
up of the retired and unemployed.

   I let the tumult die down.  "We all participated, as a family, in being
naked, if that's what you mean.  It was all part of The Program's
outreach."

   "All of you?"

   "All three of us -- Mom and my brother Carl and me.  After all, the
whole purpose of The Program is to become comfortable with the human body,"
I pointed out.  "What better place to start than in our own home?"

   Rather than confuse the issue we'd agreed to leave Elaine out of the
mix, given she'd entered our lives relatively recently.

   "I'm sure it must have had an interesting impact on your budding
sexuality, and your relationship with your older brother.

   "And what about you Ms.  W ...  Katherine?"

   "Oh yes, I participated, too," Mom admitted, "though at first I was a
little hesitant, probably because of my conservative upbringing.  But I was
determined that my children should not be saddled with my inhibitions. 
Carl and Dee have always had a healthy sibling relationship and of course
he'd seen me bathe her when she was just a tyke.  We even bathed together
on occasion, until he was -- oh, I don't know -- maybe about six or seven,
when he resented what he called 'being treated like a baby.' And later
there were the occasional incidental exposures that any family has.

   "But this was a new experience for all of us, strolling around naked,
upstairs and down, doing all the usual things a family does.  Whoever was
cooking -- which most often was me or Dee -- did wear an apron, but we even
ate our meals nude.  It is quite liberating to be doing everyday things
while totally exposed, feeling the air all over our naked skin."

   Of course the audience sang their praises to these revelations.

   "So obviously you approve of The Program."

   "I have from the beginning!  The reason I made sure that Carl was signed
up for it was because he was rather shy, especially around girls and his
being a bit of a -- nerd, I guess you would say -- I felt his social
development needed encouragement, that he needed to loosen up, blossom
socially, expand his circle of friends."

   "And how did that work out?"

   "Quite well.  Other students noticed him, of course, and got to know him
better as a person, and he opened up to them more.  He met a delightful
girl, who later took part in The Program herself.  Perhaps you remember
Beth Finch?  She put on quite a display as Miss School Spirit during her
week naked in school.  In fact, she was the model for the 'School Spirit'
statue that now graces the school grounds."

   "That's the lovely bronze nude that was executed by Henry Carver, the
young blind sculptor," Gabby quickly filled in for the benefit of her
viewers.  "His visit to this very stage was most illuminating as he
displayed some of his artistry and explained how he worked -- by touch. 
I'm sure posing for him was quite an experience for Miss Finch, seeing as
how he is blind and she was nude."

   Yeah, we get the point, The Stick put in snidely.  She was naked and he
was feeling her up.

   "You'd have to ask Beth about that," Mom responded coolly once the
animal noises had died down.  "She's at Harvard now, a pre-med major. 
She's very busy.  I doubt she'd have the time to fly out here just to be on
your show."

   Ouch!  Was That patronizing!  The Stick observed.

   "Uh -- yes," Gabby agreed, fumbling with some cards on the table beside
her.  "Now Dee -- I mean, Diane."

   I bobbed my head.

   "I understand that during their senior year -- when you were in eighth
grade -- your brother and his girlfriend presented a rather graphic sex
education program at your middle school."

   Ah hah.  There was a baited hook to be avoided.  In the words of
showbiz, when GabFest had contacted us about appearing on the show my
people (meaning Mom and Elaine) had talked with GabFest's people (whoever
they were) to set the ground rules.  The agreement was that I would talk
only about The Program as it was in Central High.  Rather than give her
ideas we had carefully avoided mentioning specific things we would NOT talk
about, like this one.  Imagine the uproar that would result from talking
about naked sixth-, seventh-, and eighth-graders watching a live sex show
that even included gay senior high students doing their thing!

   Obviously she'd done her research, but I wasn't about to take this bait
and tried to reject it courteously.

   "I'm sorry, but that has nothing to do with The Naked in School Program
in Central High," I responded evenly.

   "But your brother and his girlfriend were participants in The Program.
That is where they met and where, as I understand it, the idea for the
middle school sex education program was initiated."

   "It has no bearing on the challenges facing The Naked in School Program
in Central High now," I pointed out reasonably.  "I'm here to discuss that.
Nothing more."

   "Surely it must have been a result of The Program.  Perhaps it is
preparation for The Program."

   "Not at all.  It was an entirely different thing.  There was no
connection.  That course is part of the middle school curriculum, not high
school."

   "But...."

   "You'll have to speak to the people at middle school for further
information on that," Mom put in firmly, all but hanging a STOP sign on
Gabby's nosy nose.

   Apparently the witch got the message, for the moment, at least.

   "I'm sorry, I see we need to take a break for a commercial," Gabby
announced.  "We'll be right back with Diane Walker and her Mom talking
about being Naked in School after a few messages from our sponsors."

   During the break the silence between Gabby and us was ...  dare I use
the word "pregnant" here?

   "Welcome back," Gabby began when the stage manager pointed to her after
a short countdown, even though I saw Gabby had an ear bud that probably
connected her to the control room.  "We're here this afternoon with Diane
Walker and her mother, speaking about the controversial Naked in School
Program in Central High."

   Mom and I bobbed our heads and smiled benignly.  I expected Gabby to
push the sex ed issue and was ready to push back but I didn't need to. 
Instead she came at me from a different direction.

   "Diane, I hear that you now chair some secret committee at Central High
trying to rewrite the rules governing the Naked in School Program...."

   I jumped in.

   "Excuse me, first of all, there is nothing secret about our committee.
It is the Student Advisory Committee for the Naked in School Program, or
SACNISP for short.  Everyone knows about it.  There are eight members, two
from each grade, plus an advisor.  We welcome visitors to our meetings,
students, faculty, even parents, though we don't get many.  It's pretty
boring stuff, especially since we follow Robert's Rules of Order.  But then
that's why they exist, to keep things orderly."

   Order was the last thing I expected here.

   "As for the rules governing the NiS Program, we are not trying to
rewrite them.  That is for people way above us.  However we do want some of
the rules clarified and perhaps adjusted to better meet the goals of The
Program.  Our role is strictly advisory."

   I made the mistake of pausing for a breath, which gave her an opening.

   "Well correct me if I am wrong, but you are a freshman?  How did someone
as young as you come to be the chairperson of this so called -- what did
you call this very important committee?  -- SAC...."

   "SACNISP," I repeated patiently, knowing she was fully familiar with the
acronym.  "Yes, I'm a freshman.  I was chosen as one of the
representatives...."

   "Who chose you?"

   I got the feeling she thought she was closing in for the kill.  But
what, or who, was the victim?

   "Vice Principal Devers selected each of the representatives.  As I said,
there are two from each class, and we meet...."

   "Why you?"

   "You'd have to ask her."

   "And she designated you chair?  Why?"

   I put a lid on my temper.  She had the tactics of a tick.  I'd been
warned that getting under a victim's skin was one of Gabby's skills.

   "No.  Mrs.  Devers did not name me to chair the committee.  I was
elected....  "

   "By whom?"

   "By the committee." I really hate being interrupted.

   "But why would they elect you?  You're only a freshman!"

   I thought we'd already established that, The Stick observed.

   I wished The Stick would shut up, this was tricky enough already.  "Tell
the truth" was the best advice Mom had ever given me.

   "As it happened, I was late to the first meeting and found out when I
got there that they'd stuck me with the job.  I suspect nobody else wanted
it."

   "They must have had some other reason.  Isn't one of the seniors on the
committee a captain on the football team?  And the other the head
cheerleader?  Why wouldn't they lead?"

   "Yes to both -- and if you know that much it is hardly a secret, is it?"


   I couldn't resist taking that shot.

   "But you'd have to ask them why me.  As I said, it was probably because
they didn't want the job.  Frankly, it takes up far too much of my time,
and believe me, it was not my idea.  If anyone else wants it they're
welcome to it."

   In a pig's eye, The Stick snorted.  You love it!

   Shut up!  I need to concentrate.

   Shutting up.

   That'll be a first!

   Gabby bored in.  "And who set up the committee, and why?"

   "Vice Principal Devers set it up, because some of The Program policies
and guidelines were causing confusion."

   She consulted her cards.  "And what was Mr.  John Worthington's
relationship to the establishment of SACNISP?"

   Jeez!  She had done her research.  That wasn't a baited hook coming at
me, it was a harpoon!  I felt Mom stiffen beside me.  I chose my words
carefully.

   "By the time the committee was established he had left the school," I
answered.

   "Under arrest," she responded ominously.  "What was your relationship to
him?"

   Until now, thanks to Mrs.  Devers and the forces of law and order, my
part in the Worm's downfall hadn't become public.  As a minor my identity
had been protected.  Oh there were rumors, but nothing had ever been
confirmed, and I was not about to do so now on live TV.  Just the mention
of that creep's name made my skin crawl.

   "When I entered Central High he was the Naked in School Program
Coordinator," I answered carefully, avoiding using his name for fear I'd
barf.

   "Who appointed him?"

   "Some mor...  bureaucrat in Washington, I guess.  But...."

   "Were you in The Program?"

   "Not immediately." I saw no reason to mention that a friend of mine was,
which had triggered the whole mess.  Where in hell was she going with this?


   "But very soon Mr.  Worthington put you in The Program.  By what
authority?  By virtue of his position as Program Coordinator?"

   I felt like I was tiptoeing through a minefield.

   "Actually, according to the rules of The Program, that's within the
powers of any faculty and staff, not just him."

   "Why did he put you in The Program?"

   "As punishment," I answered, spotting an opening, the slightest crevice
I hoped I could use to divert her rather than just stonewalling her. 
Grabbing a deep breath, before she could ask "for what?" I went on talking.


   "That was one of the reasons SACNISP was set up, the policy of using The
Program as punishment.  It seems to us -- the students and Mrs.  Devers as
well -- that using the program as discipline is counter to the stated goals
of The Program."

   "So you were being disciplined...."

   I rode right over her.  "One of the key reasons our committee was
established was to consider the message sent by using The Program as
punishment.  It is entirely the wrong message!"

   I was talking fast and loud enough to keep her from interrupting again,
trying to leave her road kill before she ran over me.  If she wanted to try
to talk over me it was my swimmer's lungs against her stage-trained ones.

   "The Program is supposed to be a positive experience -- just a minute,
I'm talking here!"

   She'd had her mouth open, ready to interrupt.

   "As anyone who has taken the trouble to read the Naked in School
Pamphlet should know, the whole purpose of The Program is to help students
become more comfortable with their bodies and their sexuality.  Is using it
as punishment -- essentially using it to shame someone -- in keeping with
that goal?  We don't think so."

   Her jaw flapped, but I was relentless.

   "But as SACNISP has debated the issue we've come to realize it's not
that simple.  Suppose someone not in The Program teases or bullies a
Program Participant.  It does happen.  One of our committee members is
endowed with breasts that are, shall we say, somewhat larger than average
for her age.  During her time in The Program she endured endless teasing
and bullying.  'Shake 'em baby!' was a common so-called 'reasonable
request' thrown at her."

   I mimicked the motion and that got a reaction from the audience, further
forestalling Gabby.

   "In a case like that it seems logical to put the offender in The
Program. Not to shame him -- or her -- but to acquaint them with how it
feels to be naked and exposed in a public setting.  Believe me, even now,
for me, I feel vulnerable as I sit here, in public, on live TV, naked as
the day I was born, even though, as you said, I practically grew up in The
Program, thanks to my brother's participation."

   I made a display of myself by spreading my long arms, showing off my
naked torso.  My nips were eagerly alert, bless their little hearts.

   "But getting back to the doofuses who asked her to shake her tits --
which, by the way, can be a pretty uncomfortable thing for her to do --
that brings up the debate over what a 'reasonable request' is.  What is
reasonable for one participant -- I'd willingly shake 'em if I had 'em --
is not reasonable for her, given her lovely but weighty melons.  Even being
braless is uncomfortable for her."

   I was mentally apologizing to Retta for using her as an example, even
though I didn't mention her name.

   "We're considering setting up a court of appeals to resolve those cases.
Refusing a reasonable request is a violation of Program rules.  But how can
a participant refuse a request before the court has ruled on it without
committing a Program violation?  A violation can result in either extended
time in The Program -- another example of using The Program as punishment
-- or the alternative, which is a spanking, which brings up corporal
punishment, which supposedly went out with the buggy whip."

   Gabby had quit trying to cut in.

   Looking right into the number one camera, and the people beyond it, I
made a play for the baser instincts of the audience.  "Imagine how
humiliating it is for a girl, unaccustomed to being naked in public,
fourteen or fifteen or sixteen years old -- or a guy, for that matter -- to
be held down by her schoolmates on a bench, butt up, or perhaps bent over
with her hands on her knees, or draped over someone's lap, while a teacher
or administrator publicly spanks her naked bottom with a ruler, hairbrush
-- or even a bare hand?"

   The stage manager was trying to signal me about something but I ignored
him, about to continue, when Gabby interrupted.  "I'm sorry, we're going to
have to break away for a commercial."

   She didn't look sorry at all.

   "We'll be right back with Diane Walker and her Mother, speaking about
the controversial Naked in School program after a few brief but important
messages from our sponsors."

   I was frustrated by the interruption, even though I was running low on
both material and breath.  While the makeup department fussed and primped
Gabby, who was shooting dagger looks at us, Mom and I consulted in
whispers, very much aware of the microphone dangling from a boom over us.
For all we knew it might connect to Gabby's ear bud.  It was some comfort
that she was sweating as much as I was.

   By the time we emerged from the break Mom and I had firmed up our
tactics.  I had my notes in my hand, ready to grab the throttle on this
train before Gabby could.

   She was as chipper as ever.  "Welcome back.  We're talking today with
Diane Walker, known to her friends as Dee, about the controversial Naked in
School Program in Central High.  She is the very youthful freshman
chairperson of the -- now I hope I get this right -- the Student Advisory
Committee on the Naked in School Program at Central High School, or
SACNISP. With her is her mother, Katherine.

   "As I'm sure most of my viewers know, Diane tied up downtown traffic not
long ago leading a parade of naked-teen-age bicycle riders, both male and
female, through rush hour traffic in support of the controversial Naked in
School program."

   As she delivered this I think the expression I want for her is, "butter
wouldn't melt in her mouth." Or, to use another cliché, cool as a cucumber.


   I should have jumped right in, but didn't, and regretted it.

   "I was asking her about the former Naked in School Program Coordinator
who abruptly left his position at Central High under arrest on a number of
charges including statutory rape.  Getting back to Mr.  Worthington, it is
rumored that you were instrumental in arranging his departure."

   To maintain my train metaphor, obviously she wasn't going to let go of
the throttle easily.  I tried to derail her.  "I'm sorry, I should have
made it clear before the commercial break.  I will not comment on that
matter."

   "But Dee, were you involved in the departure and arrest of the Program
Coordinator...?  We have a right to know!"

   "No, you do not!" This woman was really starting to piss me off.  I
uncrossed my legs, not being at all careful about my cuntal display, and
said very carefully, "It was Diane to you, Gabby, not Dee, only I just
changed my mind.  Now I prefer Miss Walker.  The subject is closed.  I am
not going there.  I can't.  Is that clear enough for you?"

   "Can't" was the operative word.  She was known to have made guests cry.
If she made me go down that track I wouldn't cry, I would SPEW!  The only
times I ever talked about the Worm were during my therapy sessions with Ms.
Andrews.  Because of me she'd added barf bags to the tissues in her office.


   "But as Program Coordinator, Mr.  Wor...."

   "But nothing!  He.is.off.limits!" Mom chimed in, a mama bear protecting
her cub, and when Mom uses that tone of voice everyone snaps to attention.

   Cry "Havoc," And let slip the dogs of war The Stick exulted as the
audience reacted with roars and whistles.

   Ah me.  The Stick sometimes makes me regret reading stuff like
Shakespeare but this wasn't one of them.  We could wind up dodging chairs
before this was over.

   Gabby took one more stab at it.  "It is on the record that he was
charged with sex crimes against children.  Were you one of...."

   Mom interrupted before Gabby went any further -- before my stomach
rebelled.  "Stop right there!  That is none of your damn business or anyone
else's.  His crimes involved minors!  whose privacy is protected.  This may
be your playground, Ms.  Pomfret, but if you don't drop it we are picking
up our toys and going home."

   That was my cue.  I handed Mom my notes for her to put away.  During the
break we'd agree we'd exercise our nuclear option if we had to, and now we
had to.  Nothing is worse than dead air on live TV.  It wasn't the first
time one of her guests had threatened to walk off the show, and Gabby had
always backed down.  I hoped she would this time, but if she didn't, as the
French say c'est la vie.  We'd get coverage either way.

   "C'mon Mom, let's go."

   "Wait Dee...." Gabby protested.

   Dee?  She called me Dee?!  I was getting up from the loveseat while Mom
made a show of gathering the notes into her attaché case, adjusting her
skirt and blazer as she joined me.  I bared my teeth.

   "I mean Diane!  Uh -- Katherine!" Gabby honked desperately.  "Let's
talk."

   The audience was going crazy.

   "There's nothing to talk about if you don't change the subject!" Mom
snapped.

   "Ms.  Walker, Miss Walker, please.  Let's move on to talk about The
Program.  Just The Program, I promise."

   I won't say she begged.  She was made of sterner stuff than that.  Let's
just say Gabby capitulated.  After sharing a discreet look Mom and I locked
down our nukes for the moment.  I really didn't want to leave.  I still had
to clear The Program's name with the barbarians.

   To my relief the audience responded enthusiastically.  Maybe they just
wanted to ogle my naked body, my swimmer's muscles and modest boobies, my
bald pussy, but so what?  I didn't mind being the eye-candy as long as I
got my message across.  I had a statement to make and maybe, if their
brains were capable of multi-tasking to that extent, they'd be listening
while they looked.  Surely I could reach some of them!

   An apology would have been nice but Mom and I settled for civility. 
From here on it would be "Miss Walker" and "Ms.  Walker," even though, if
Gabby slurred it, things might get a bit muddled as to whom she was
addressing.

   Now I was driving the train, the track was clear and Mom put the notes
back in my shaking hands.  Responding to Gabby's questions, I talked about
the mechanics of The Program -- how the chosen students were called to the
office Monday morning to undress for their week in The Program, the rules
they were given, yada, yada, yada, until I had them naked in the halls for
the first time in their lives, blushing and squirming in front of their
schoolmates.

   For the sake of the audience I made it as graphic as possible -- hard
ons, naked tits and pussies and all.  I took them through a typical first
morning, including trying to explain what a reasonable request was, even
demonstrating the Program pose -- feet apart, hands on the back of my head,
chest out.  I even turned completely around for the benefit of the cameras
and audience, who loved it, and demonstrated how sometimes the request was
that they bend over to show off their butt with its little pucker.

   Gabby was anything but stupid, and not one to miss a chance to stir
passions.  "But Miss Walker," she ventured when I paused a moment, "what
about the recent reports of students being sexually assaulted in the
hallways, students who are new in the Naked in School Program?"

   I resumed my seat.  "Sexually assaulted in the halls?  No.  Recently
there were incidents of what I call fanny pinching, but it was nothing to
make a federal case over.  It was instigated by one of our local bad boys
who had recently transferred in and had no experience with The Program. 
Some of his clique joined him, along with the troublemakers found in any
school, who took part just because they thought it was fun and cool.

   "To counter it we -- the committee -- asked former Program participants
to escort current participants between classes and the problem was solved.
There were plenty of willing volunteers to pick from.  By the time a class
graduates from Central High virtually every student has had a week in The
Program.  It is not limited to a small segment of the student body -- or
should that be bodies?"

   Chuckles from the audience.

   "What about students being required to perform sexual acts at the start
of every class?" Gabby sniped.

   "It's called 'getting relief,' and it is not required," I answered
patiently when the hubbub had died down again.  "As most of you men out
there probably know from personal experience, prolonged sexual arousal can
become painful.  Just being naked in public is enough to arouse the average
teen male, especially if there's a naked girl in sight.  Women get horny,
too.  It's not painful but can be distracting.

   "The Program's solution is to allow a few minutes at the beginning of
each class period to deal with it -- to relieve the pressure with an
orgasm. While it is public, it's voluntary, usually masturbation or, if
another student is willing to help, oral sex but rarely intercourse.

   "Making it public, in a classroom setting, serves a useful purpose,
demonstrating safer ways of relieving sexual tension than actual
intercourse."

   "But by getting all you kids naked The Program must be encouraging
rampant sexual activity in the school.  And what about these reasonable
requests you keep referring to?  Are girls being molested?  -- required to
perform sexually in the hallways?"

   "The Program does not encourage rampant sexual activity, as you put it.
The only reasonable request that might be called mandatory is posing, as I
demonstrated.  Touching is allowed only if the program participant is
willing.  While it is not discouraged, no one, male or female, is required
to perform any sexual act at any time, anywhere.  There's probably no more
sex going on among Central High students now than in pre-Program days.

   "Remember, we're talking teenagers here, growing up in a sexually
charged society.  Teens are always horny.  But thanks to The Program what
sex does take place is safer.  Girls are more willing to say 'no' and boys
more likely to accept it.  It is unlikely to be public -- there's an
instinctive desire for privacy.  It's also likely to take place in a safer
environment than the back seat of dad's Chevy in a lonely lovers' lane."

   As I'd hoped, as I went on they were listening, really listening.

   "My point is, anyone who has a child knows that children start exploring
their bodies as soon as they discover their own toes.  They need to know
that this is natural and acceptable, not something to be ashamed of or
they'll never come to their parents when they should.  Kids need to know
the facts.  By removing the shame they develop a healthier attitude toward
nakedness and sex.  It's the only way we'll counter teen pregnancy and
whatever venereal diseases nature throws at us next.  If they're lucky
they've had a good course of sex education before they reach high school,
and I hope it includes more than just teaching abstinence."

   I deliberately paused.  That was a fat pitch right across the plate for
this crowd and I expected Gabby to try to hit out of the park.  I wasn't
wrong.

   She seemed outraged.  "And what's wrong with teaching abstinence?"

   That got a roar of approval from the audience, just as I'd anticipated.
When it died down I answered.

   "Nothing, but does it take?  Does it work?  Do they abstain?  What's
wrong with teaching alternatives along with it?  Sex is one of the
strongest human urges there is.  When you're hungry you want to eat, and
you don't always eat wisely.  When you're horny, especially young and
horny, you want to f...  have sex.  At least they should know what they're
getting into -- no pun intended.

   "Kids should know, in advance, what they're feeling when their hormones
do go crazy and how to handle those feelings and impulses in a safe way --
such as masturbation -- before they make a mistake that could screw up
their whole life."

   "Masturbation is a sin!" someone called out, as I'd expected, triggering
another uprising in the audience.

   "Is it a worse sin than sex outside of marriage?" I asked when the din
died down.  "Doesn't it make more sense to masturbate -- okay, maybe only
until you need glasses --..."

   That got a laugh, thank God.

   "...  either together or alone, rather than risking an unwanted
pregnancy?"

   More uproar, a lot of it between audience members rather than at me.

   "The whole purpose of The Program is to give us, your children, the
knowledge we need to make the right choice, to avoid making a mistake that
can ruin a life -- cut an education short, even kill some fourteen year old
girl because she's scared to tell her mom and chooses an illegal abortion.

   "Illegal abortions are dangerous.  Too often they kill the mother right
along with the baby because they're done under filthy, unsafe conditions.
That's a pretty stiff penalty to pay.  I think any abortion is a tragedy,
but isn't it better to avoid the need for it in the first place?

   "But getting back to The Program, what are its benefits?" I asked them
rhetorically, glancing at my notes.

   I started holding up fingers.  "Since it began at Central High
absenteeism is down twenty percent.  So what if it's only because Johnny
knows he'll see Suzie naked?

   "Grades are higher.  When Suzie's up in front of the class naked giving
her report Johnny pays more attention.  And vice versa.

   "The dropout rate is down, especially among girls -- fewer unplanned
pregnancies -- and Johnny doesn't have to drop out to do the honorable
thing.

   "The graduation rate is up.

   "You want to know another good effect?  Kids who are being sexually
abused are less shy about reporting it.  When you're naked it's hard to
conceal bruises, so kids who are physically abused stand out.  They're seen
and helped, removed from the situation and the abusers caught and punished.
You think abuse doesn't happen in our town?  It happened to a good friend
of mine.

   "So I guess if you happen to be an abuser or pedophile you have a reason
to want to kill the Program," I added sarcastically.

   "With The Program, and good sex ed classes, at least kids know what they
are getting into.  You wouldn't just hand your kid the keys to a car and
let him drive off with no instruction.  That's why we have Driver's Ed.

   "You feel strongly about this," Gabby observed.

   Well doh!  The Stick put in rudely.

   I told The Stick to shush.  I thought -- hoped -- that behind her
professionally furrowed brow Gabby really meant what she'd said.

   "I do.  I know people whose lives have been turned upside down, and made
very hard by unintended pregnancies." I didn't look at Mom as I said this,
but she knew who I was thinking about.

   "And ask yourself this, you who want to ban abortions in all cases.  How
many abortions -- legal or illegal -- can be eliminated if girls -- if
couples -- know how to avoid the pregnancy in the first place?"

   The studio audience was actually silent, so I knew I had their
attention. By the clock on the wall our time was almost up.  Time to bring
out my visual aid.  I uncrossed my ankles, spread my long legs wide and put
my feet on the coffee table.  The camera zoomed in on my bare-naked pussy,
my honey pot, and I pointed to it.  "All girls have one of these.  All guys
have a penis.  They don't come with instructions.

   "There's no owner's manual.

   "There's no road map.  A girl shouldn't have to learn it from a box of
tampons, and a guy should know it, too, before he fucks up."

   The control room could deal with that word if they had to.  I didn't
care.  I was almost done, and done in.

   "We're all born with a powerful instinct to use what God has given us.
Isn't it reasonable that we should use the intelligence God gave us to
teach our children how to use it responsibly, just as we're taught to drive
responsibly?  The Program is one part of doing that.

   "Sure this should be taught at home, and my Mom was the best at
answering my questions." I gave her a grateful look.  "But not everyone is
as lucky as I am.  What are those kids supposed to do?"

   I could see the stage manager making desperate hurry up motions.

   "That is what The Program is all about.  It is not lessons on fucking.
It is about learning about our bodies, getting used to them and learning
how to use what we're born with wisely and safely.

   "That's all I have to say."

   That actually brought the audience to its feet, some applauding, some
shouting at me, some for me others against, some at each other, and Gabby
herself finally had to shout to close out the show as the clock ticked down
and the poor stage manager made frantic slashing motions across his throat.


   My mission accomplished, as the red light went off I went as limp as
Greg after a weekend fuck-a-thon, letting Mom handle the thank you's.  This
had been more stressful than my impromptu speech at the unveiling of the
School Spirit statue, and I didn't even have a party to look forward to.

   While my appearance on GabFest had calmed the media I soon found out
that somehow it made the already pissed at me even more pissed.
   Tsk.  I suppose it was something I'd said.