The next morning, after we'd showered together again and while Stephanie and Carl dressed, I pulled my blouse and skirt out of my book bag and looked at them unhappily. They were, of course, a wrinkled mess, so I just stuffed them back in the bag and said the heck with it.
So, we arrived at school the same way we'd left it, arm-in-arm-in-arm, Steph and Carl dressed, flanking me, all blushing pink from head to toe!
There was the usual crowd of boys awaiting my arrival, of course, and some whistles and cat-calls when they saw us, drawing the obvious inference from our cozy state. And with the ice broken on the touching issue, the boys lined up to get a feel and, well, there were so many of them, and they looked so eager.
No, they looked HUNGRY.
And wouldn't you know it, at that moment my Evil Twin decided to go AWOL.
I was terrified! I knew I couldn't do it without help. Which, I knew, was a Program Violation, since everything I did I was required to do voluntarily, without assistance.
"Hold me," I begged Carl and Stephanie.
"What?" Carl was surprised, Stephanie, well, I think she understood, since she looked almost as scared as I felt.
"They're going to want to touch me. Please, hold me! Otherwise, I don't think I can do this!"
"You don't have to!" Carl argued.
"Yes, I do! I DO! So please, just hold my arms, please." I was afraid I was going to cry.
Stephanie did understand, I could see the sympathy in her eyes. "Hold her."
"Tight," I begged. I shivered as Carl took my other arm and, together with Steph, held me helpless.
I writhed and squirmed as the boys felt my breasts and butt and my pussy. It was a whole new sensation, being helpless, totally at the mercy of others. I guess all my life I'd been a bit of a control freak, and there, in front of the school, naked, I surrendered control of my own body to all those boys!
More than one boy shoved his finger up my cunt. Others poked a finger up my ass. They squeezed my boobs, pinched my nipples and fanny. It was incredibly humiliating, and I was unbelievably turned on. By the time the bell rang I was nearly at my wits end, having been probed and pinched and stroked and penetrated. I wrapped myself around Carl just to get my breath back, while Stephanie snuggled against me as well and I felt safe and protected again.
"I'm sorry," Carl apologized as the three of us made our way into the school, but I shook my head.
"No, it's all right," I assured him. "It had to be done."
"I don't know." He was dubious.
"Trust me, it did." I was unhappy, but not because of what had been done to me. I was upset that I'd had to ask Carl and Stephanie to hold me so I didn't run away.
Thursday turned out to be one of the worst days of my week in The Program. Well, maybe "worst" isn't exactly the word I want. Maybe "most challenging" is more accurate.
First of all, I couldn't ignore that every boy in school was looking at my naked breasts, my shaved pussy. All the girls watched me, too, and they whispered to each other. I tried to tell myself I was being paranoid, but I couldn't escape the thought that they were talking about me, about what had happened outside the school that morning, how my friends had had to hold me to keep me from running away while the boys groped me.
Then in math class Freschetti asked for relief again, and asked me to give it. He didn't try to dominate me the way he had that first time, at least, but he was still hairy and intimidating, though his pecker responded a bit better.
Then there were the boys who stopped me in the halls wanting a feel. When they did I cooperated, of course, putting my hands behind my head, spreading my legs. But I died a little inside every time.
What made it worse, as other students passed they watched as I was felt up, watched as my breasts were squeezed, my nipples pinched. Watched as fingers went up my cunt and ass. I blushed, and squirmed, and gasped. A couple of girls even stroked my shaved pussy, asking me what it felt like, if I liked it, if Carl liked it.
I kept trying to tell myself I had nothing to be ashamed of, but I kept wanting to hide my shaved pussy, my shy breasts, and here it was, the fourth day that I'd been naked in school!
I kept thinking, too, that there were whispers about Stephanie and me, and about what we had done after going off together with Carl the day before.
If they only knew!
Then, at lunchtime, I got called to the principal's office. He was behind his desk when I went in, frowning. I'd never been called there before, so I was quaking in my non-existent boots.
He drummed his fingers on his blotter as he looked me up and down, raising a blush as I stood there, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.
"I understand you asked your friends to hold you outside school this morning, while the boys touched you," he observed.
I nodded. "Yessir," I admitted.
"Why was that?"
"I was scared, sir," I admitted.
"You realize taking assistance like that is contrary to the goals of the program? You either do something like that willingly, or not at all?"
I nodded miserably.
"I could order you to remain naked for another week for that violation," he pointed out.
All I could do was nod, remembering the penalty clauses in the brochure. Another week naked in school? I think the humiliation of having failed the program bothered me even more than another week of total exposure.
"I'd rather not do that. We have the students picked for next week, and if we don't remain on schedule some of those who have volunteered to take part in The Program will be deprived of the opportunity," he pointed out.
"Yessir," I agreed.
"So, I am going to offer you an alternative," he went on.
"Yessir?"
"A spanking. A public spanking. Ten strokes with a ruler on your bare buttocks."
Oh God! "Yessir."
"Do you agree?" he asked.
I thought about it, and cringed. I'd never been spanked in my life! But, if I didn't accept it I'd be letting down The Program. I managed to nod tensely. When he raised an eyebrow, I agreed aloud. "Yessir, I agree to a public spanking. When do you wish to deliver it, sir?"
He picked up the ruler on his desk. "Right now, of course."
Oh dear. I'd wanted time to brace myself for it! "Yessir." I hung my head.
"Come with me," he ordered, leading the way out of his office, past his secretary and into the crowded hallway. There was a bench there, waiting for me!
"Do you need someone to hold you?" he asked.
"Will that count against me?" I asked fearfully, already imagining what the pain was going to be like.
"Five extra strokes," he explained. "But, if you try to resist, even involuntarily, it will double your punishment."
"Oh!" I thought this over. "I'm not very brave, sir. You'd better have someone hold me."
I mean, I wanted to DIE! I was totally humiliated!
"Very well. Stretch out on the bench, face down." He gestured to two boys to come and grab me.
The wood was cold against my breasts and tummy as I obeyed. The boys stepped forward, one taking my arms and stretching them above my head, the other grabbing my feet and holding my legs tight, spreading them slightly.
"Fifteen strokes," the principal announced. "Ten for a Program violation, five for needing to be held to accept the punishment. Please count each stroke aloud, Miss Finch."
"Yessir," I agreed.
WHACK! My left ass cheek burst into flame.
"One," I counted.
"Louder!" WHACK!
"Two," I yelped louder, my right ass cheek flaring up.
WHACK! The left one again.
"Three!" I fought back tears.
WHACK!
"Four." The right one. Everyone was watching me get punished.
WHACK!
"Five." I felt a new stirring in my gut and whimpered as my ass burned.
WHACK!
"Six." I pressed my pussy against the hard bench, trying to scratch a treasonous itch that was building in my cunny.
WHACK!
"Seven," I gasped, humping against the bench. Almost half done with the spanking, but my arousal was just beginning!
WHACK!
"Eight." This one came out a squeak. I could see them, feasting on my humiliation, the boys licking their lips, the girls wincing in sympathy with every stroke.
WHACK!
"Nine." Tears trickled down my cheeks. I squirmed my cunt against the bench, the itch building.
WHACK!
"Ten." I knew my butt was flexing as I tried to grind my clit against the bench, and that everyone could see it.
The last five strokes left me weeping and gasping, and hornier than I think I had ever been in my life. I groaned as they released me and I struggled to get up.
"Thank you, sir," I said to the principal, fighting the urge to rub my burning butt, and my drooling pussy. "May I be excused now sir?"
He smiled at me kindly. "You may go, Miss Finch."
Crying, I bulled my way through the crowd and sought refuge in the girl's room, locking myself in a stall where I rubbed and rubbed - not my ass, but my pussy until I came like gangbuster! I heard some girls bang into the room as I moaned.
"Having a good time in there, Finchy?" one of them asked snidely. "How's your ass? Though, by the sounds you're making, that's not what's bothering you, is it?" And they all laughed.
I stayed in the stall until they had left, then swabbed my cunt with a cold, wet paper towel, and washed the tears off my face, too. I studied the reflection of my butt in the mirror, and it was like you could see where each stroke hand landed. A damp paper towel helped ease the sting a little before I hurried off, late for the first time ever to my art class.
There, at least, I didn't have to sit down. I don't think my butt could have taken that. Instead I resumed my pose, though I was terribly conscious of my bright red tail, and the whispers that ran through the room as the ones who had seen my punishment clued in the ones who had missed it.
Then, too, Henry was getting down to the finer points of his sculpting, which involved a lot more intimate touching as he studied my nude body with his sensitive fingers, tracing the curves of my ass, for one thing.
Still, he was so sweet and apologetic as he touched me I had to keep reassuring him that it was all right. It actually made it worse, reminding me of the liberties I was letting people take with my body!
"Sorry," he said, as he felt my breasts.
"It's okay," I answered, blushing. I guess to read Braille he kept his fingers really soft and sensitive. He brushed my nipples as gently as a butterfly's kiss, and they responded with an eager puckering of their own, of course.
"Uh, you'd better do it again, touch my titties, because they change in reaction to your touch," I admitted.
So he did, and it was almost like when Carl licked them he was so gentle.
"Wow," he breathed, "they do change, don't they! Should sculpt them this way?"
"I - you're the artist," I temporized, remembering how the photography club had wanted my titties erect for their cheesecake shots.
So he worked on my chest, down to my hips, exploring my navel, my ribs with his touch, until I was quivering again, even though I'd just made myself cum. I found myself wishing Carl were there, so he and I could have done it right there, for the whole class to watch, and sketch.
Which, of course, made me think of that crazy community service project idea I'd come up with, to demonstrate sex to the middle schoolers with Carl, which made me shiver.
"Are you cold?" Henry asked, having been counting my ribs or something at that moment.
"No," I assured him. "I just thought of something."
Everything continued pretty smoothly until my second break. I was studying Henry's sculpting, marveling at how deftly his hands shaped the clay, when his guide dog, Dity, goosed me from behind with her cold, wet nose! I let out a whoop that rattled the windows, and probably resulted in more than one stray scrawl on their tablets by the kids working on their drawings.
I turned and glared at Dity, sitting there, grinning at me, her long pink tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth. I shook my finger at her as everyone else laughed. Well, what else could I do but laugh along with them, while I was dying inside?
Then it was back to posing, but I had a hard time getting that startling touch of Dity's cold nose out of my mind. It did funny things to my innards. I'd had my legs a little bit apart and she'd gotten me - well, right between my openings, you might say. I kept thinking of Dity's long, pink tongue, too, remembering how Carl's and Stephanie's tongues had explored my cunt, thinking how deep Dity's doggy tongue would probe me compared to theirs.
For a moment it felt like I was going to wet my non-existent pants.
Resolutely, I turned my thoughts away from that to the fact that I still had to talk to Mademoiselle Duclos about my community service project. Since I had a French club meeting that afternoon it would be the perfect time to broach the topic with her, of course, so I did, after a relatively uneventful free period and history class.
She said she'd have to think about it, but that it sounded like a good idea.
Heaving a sigh of relief after French club, I hurried out and got dressed, and never mind how wrinkled my clothes were! Then Carl walked me home, right to my door. Since I hadn't been home since the day before, I really needed to get caught up with some things at home, and so did he, much as we wanted to be together.
"Well, here she is," mom greeted me as she tidied up the kitchen. "How was your sleepover?"
"Oh, fine," I managed to answer casually. "Anything exciting happen around here?"
Mom dimpled slightly. "Let's just say that your father and I enjoyed your absence immensely."
"Oh!" I was still having trouble getting into the idea that my parents had a sex life, though how else could I have gotten here?
"You're kind of wrinkled. It'll probably feel good to get out of those clothes," Mom commented.
"Oh!" I looked down at myself, realizing what a mess I was. "I guess I will. Is daddy getting more used to me being in the program?"
Mom cocked her head. "Oh, he grumbles and mumbles. He'll always worry about `his little girl' you know, but I think he's getting a little more comfortable with it."
I suddenly realized why I was feeling so guilty and uncomfortable. I felt like I'd been fighting the program all day, and here I was still fighting it. I wanted to tear my clothes off I was so mad at myself. I'd never welched on an assignment before, and here I was - I felt like I was cheating on a test or something!
I drew a deep breath, stiffening my resolve.
"I think I'll go naked for dinner again. Would - would the two of you want to - uh - undress for dinner, too?" I suggested hesitantly. "It's, well, part of The Program for the family to participate. Uh - Carl and his mom and sister are into it," I admitted, not about to add that Carl and I had done a rather explicit show and tell for his sister.
"Oh! Oh my! Are they really? Both of them?!" Mom blushed. "Well, I did read the brochure, and so did your father. I - well, let me think about it, and I'll ask him, maybe."
"Okay." I started to head out of the kitchen to go upstairs. Then I had another thought. "In fact, I think I'll go naked from now until - well, until I think I can stop!" I announced.
"And when will that be?" mom asked me with a little smile.
I stripped off my wrinkled blouse and skirt right there in the doorway. "I don't know," I admitted. "I don't know. Maybe - maybe all weekend! Even in church!"
"Oh my!" mom puffed. "Even in church?"
"Even in church." I was surprised she didn't try to argue me out of it.
"Well, if that's the way you feel about it - well - well, I'm proud of you! But I think I'd better clear it with Pastor Bill, don't you think?"
I blushed. "Thanks. I've got homework," I mumbled, fleeing the kitchen, suddenly aware of the hardness of my nipples and the hotness of my pussy at the thought of what I was letting myself in for. At least the blush on the rest of me camouflaged the blush on my bottom, so I didn't have to explain that to her.
One more day naked in school, and then what? Naked Saturday? Naked Sunday? What had happened to sweet, shy, innocent Beth? Where had she gone?
At dinner that night I saw my daddy naked for the first time since - well, for the first time ever, I think! He was a little pudgy, but he had a handsome cock, I thought.
And it was as interested in the proceedings as anything, I can tell you, standing erect in his lap so the tip of it actually peeked over the edge of the table! He blushed, and mom blushed, and giggled, and touched his bare shoulder, trailing her fingers over his back when she went behind his chair.
She had big, soft breasts - the breasts I'd nursed from, I realized. She was a little plump - comfortable looking, with a bushy pussy that made me only more aware of my shaved crotch.
We were all a little silly and nervous. I think we blushed every time one of us took a bite of hot dog. Then, after dinner they excused themselves and went upstairs, hand in hand, daddy's hardon leading the way, while I got stuck with clearing the table and doing the dishes!