Rosie - Naked In School

Chapter 7

My time in the Program, by Rosie Baines.

I should have left school last summer, but I failed one of my exams. I have a chance to retake it in January, but I have to attend school for the autumn term.

About three or four years ago, they’d introduced the Program in all schools. It’s a really sinful thing that means you get picked to go naked in school all week. Not only that, but you have to let people touch you all over even sticking their fingers in you and making you have orgasms.

Of course most of the boys and a lot of the girls thought it was great, and nearly everybody did a lot more than they had to do. Every Girl Gets Done was the joke. There weren’t that many virgins in our final year anyway, and hardly any made it through their Program week still a virgin.

My sister Jasmine and I used to pray every Sunday for God to protect us from being picked.

Even the people at church thought that that was impossible, but we said, nothing is impossible with God.

Although she’s only three months younger than I am, (we were both adopted,) the way our birthdays fall mean that she’s in the year below me in school, so I’d promised her that even when I’d left school, I’d keep praying every Sunday night for her not to get picked in her final year.

And God had protected me. I got all the way through my final year without getting picked, which was supposed to be impossible. It had to be a computer error or something.

Our old school was falling apart, literally. So this September all of us students were distributed between two other schools, one on the other side of town and a smaller brand new school on our side of town. Because we live close-by, Jasmine and I have been sent to the new school.

The first day of school, we were all called into the main hall. The headmistress, a Mrs. Chaplain, a real matronly sort, announced that the Program would not be starting at the new school for two months as she had to get formal approval for it to start at the new school.

There were quite a few boos at that, but Jasmine and I were really excited. It was just another example of God’s protection.

I don’t know why we had to have all these lessons about the Program, when we’d all seen it in action in our previous schools, but Mrs. Chaplain insisted. As she was some big-knob in the Program, what she said, went.

Part of it was we had to study all the journals of the first kids in the Program.

Then, after about a month, to our amazement, two of the girls we’d read about actually spent a week at our school, talking to everyone.

They were both in their mid-twenties now. Heather, the older one, had been famous on TV, so it seemed strange that she would be the quieter one, not asking many questions, just listening to what everybody said.

Her younger sister, Shelley, was the opposite. She loved the Program and didn’t care who knew it. If I didn’t know it was so wrong, she’d have even convinced me that it was the way to heaven on earth. She insisted on referring to herself and her sister as the slutsisters. I could see why.

A couple of the days, she wandered around naked. Rather her than me, the heating wasn’t on full blast, though we’d been told it would be once the Program was started.

The next week, Mrs. Chaplain was away for a day in London. When she came back, we were informed that the Program would start the following week, but with only a few each week at first.

Jasmine and I high-fived each other at that. That reduced our chances of getting picked even more.

They obviously picked only the popular beautiful people for the first week, and they had that Shelley back again, to see "fair play" as she put it.

None of them seemed to have much problem with parading around naked, letting everyone grope them (or worse). And they’d put the heating right up, so most of the rest of us were wearing less as well. (The seniors years didn’t have a uniform at our school.) Some of the girls might as well have been in the Program, they were showing so much flesh.

They did at least tell one girl off for coming to school dressed in a little crop top that came just below her nipples, no skirt and crotchless panties, so she came in the next day in an ultra mini skirt and a thong, which wasn’t much better. Like I said, a lot of the girls liked the Program and actually wanted to have boys’ hands all over them.

Because I was repeating a term, I shared some of my classes with Jasmine. And we were both shocked when one of the girls asked for relief and let the boy actually have sex with her in the classroom.

And afterwards, she just sat there, with her legs apart, letting his semen drip out of her vagina until the teacher made her go and clean up and made the boy clean the mess off the floor with some tissues.

If that wasn’t bad enough, two of the GIRLS, one who wasn’t even IN the Program had what they call a sixty-nine, where they gave oral sex to each other at the same time, for nearly half a lesson. "Relief", as they call it, is only supposed to be five minutes, but they were allowed to waste almost half the lesson on that display.

Karen, the girl who sat next to me in one of my classes, volunteered to give relief to one of the boys. She made him come with her hands. And she let him come on her black t-shirt. She didn’t even bother to wipe it off.

I must have looked disgusted because she stopped on her way back to her desk. "Oh, Miss prissy Rosie doesn’t like it."

Before I could try to dodge, she wiped some of his stuff off her t-shirt onto her hands and wiped them on my face.

"Eww!" I exclaimed.

And I think the whole class were laughing at me. I didn’t have a hanky with me and the teacher wouldn’t let me go and get washed until the lesson was over.

I got a few funny looks on the way to the toilets. Surely they didn’t think that I’d done that? Thankfully Jasmine didn’t see me in the corridor. She hadn’t shared that lesson with me.

Afterwards she sympathised, though she did have the fits of the giggles when I told her.

"It’s not funny," I insisted, but looking at her trying not to laugh set me off as well.

Most of our lessons went on as normal, thankfully, though it was difficult to ignore what went on in public areas like the dining hall.

One of the girls was giving blowjobs to anyone who wanted one, until her mouth got tired

And some of the girls NOT in the Program were gangbanging one of the boys in the Program. The look on his face when each of the girls stopped before he could come was so funny, till I reminded myself that I shouldn’t be watching.

The worst time was Thursday afternoon, when, in one lesson all the girls who hadn’t handled a penis had to go to the front of the class and hold the penis of one of the boys in the Program.

There were only two of us. A shy girl who squealed all the time, "Oo, it’s growing!" and obviously enjoyed herself, and me. I was astonished when Jasmine said she’d already handled one. I didn’t know if they could make us touch it, but if Jasmine had already done it, and it was part of the lesson, could I refuse? I didn’t know, so I touched it and pulled my hand away quickly.

"No. Hold it properly," I was told. I curled my fingers around it and closed my eyes.

"You’re supposed to be studying it. You can’t do that with your eyes closed." The class laughed at me. "Now hold his balls."

When it was over I ran back to my seat.

After the lesson I collared Jasmine. "When did you hold a penis?" I asked accusingly.

"I didn’t," she replied. "I lied."

"You lied?"

"Yes. It was the lesser of two evils, so I lied."

Why hadn’t I thought of that?

I wasn’t even IN the Program and I’d had semen wiped on my face AND had to hold a boy’s penis and testicles.

Jasmine and I prayed extra hard that Sunday night.