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From: "Peregrinf" <dfowler@catskill.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Beth Naked in School 10/12 (f/m exhib voy)
Date: Wed, 13 Mar 2002 21:10:04 -0500
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<15th attachment, "Beth Naked in School 10.doc" begin>

"Beth Naked in School" is a continuation of the "Naked in School"
series that began with Karen Wagner's "Karen Naked in School."
You might want to start there. Then follow up with my first
contributions to the series, "Carl Naked in School," and "Carl
Naked in School - Beth's Story," before you start this tale. All
can be found in the ASSM archives.

Beth Naked in School 10/12 (f/m exhib voy)

Friday Night and Saturday Morning 

As I sat astride Bucephalus, I tried visualizing it; galloping
out of the darkness astride a huge, jet black gelding,
remembering my riding lessons of years gone by, keeping my seat,
steering the stampeding horse with my legs and the one hand I'd
have free for the reins, holding the blazing highway flare so
it's sparks wouldn't burn me or the horse. 

And all I could think of was The Charge of the Light Brigade. 

You know! "Half a league, half a league, half a league onward,"
and "Cannons to the right of them, cannons to the left of them,
volleyed and thundered," and especially "Into the valley of death
rode the six hundred." 

I was a vision of barbaric nobility. My mousy brown locks had
been cropped, bleached a golden blond, striped with bright
crimson dye(school colors, get it?) and the whole ensemble
moussed to stand up in a crazy crest. 

I was, of course, as required by the rules of The Program, stark
naked. 

Talk about an entrance! 

Picture this: 

Setting: The school's floodlighted baseball diamond at dusk. The
grandstands along the baselines are packed with students, while
lined up along the backstop behind home plate is the football
team in their flashy warm-up sweats. Naked cheerleaders are
spaced along the baselines, stirring the crowd to a fighting
frenzy. The band is in rank and file in the outfield, playing
stirring tunes, until suddenly all falls silent. 

In the shadows of the trees that border center field, I am
already mounted on Bucephalus, named after Alexander the Great's
war horse. Daddy is on my right, holding the as-yet unlighted
flare. Stephanie is to my left, steadying Bucephalus, holding his
bridle. 

"And ACTION!" calls the director, metaphorically speaking,
because all of this is being run by cues and, I might add,
without rehearsal, so only God himself knew if it was going to go
off without a hitch, and He wasn't talking. 

With an abrupt crash of cymbals, drums rum-tum-tumming, the band
splits, the two halves swinging smoothly to form an aisle from
center field toward the pitcher's mound with its ten foot pile of
scrap wood and old furniture that is The Bonfire to Be. 

The drums fall silent. There's a breathless hush. 

A lone, muted trombone sounds the charge, the notes echoing
across the field, a lonely, challenging sound! 

ta-da-ta-da-ta-da-ta-da-ta-daaaah! 

Carl! My pulse quickens. 

Silence, and then;

Unmuted, brazen, all the trumpets and all the trombones repeat
the call louder! 

Ta-Da-Ta-Da-Ta-Da-Ta-Da-Ta-Daaaah! 

Recognizing his cue, daddy strikes the flare, it bursts into
flame, causing Bucephalus to shy a bit. Daddy carefully hands the
blazing torch to me. Even at arm's length I feel its heat on my
naked body. My tummy is all aflutter, along with some other parts
of me. I'm very, very conscious of being atop about a ton of very
powerful and nervous horse. 

The instruments gleaming in the field's floodlights, the whole
band repeats the call, summoning me, concluding with a clash of
cymbals!

TA-DA-TA-DA-TA-DA-TA-DA-TA-DAAAAH! CLASH!

Releasing his bridle, Stephanie slaps Bucephalus's rump and I
rock back in the saddle as he surges forward - no I was NOT about
to try this bareback! - and the stampede is on! A thunder of hoof
beats and out of the darkness I appear, leaning forward now, a
spectral pink figure riding a black horse, brandishing a flare
spouting red flames, sparks and smoke. I'm dressed like Lady
Godiva, my hair, standing up even in the stiff breeze thanks to a
ton of gunk, looking like it is on fire itself, thanks to the
garish `do. 

This is the shy, modest, demure Beth Finch you've gotten to know
over the past week? 

I don't think I'll include this incident in my college
applications. In fact, the whole week is probably best ignored.
It's none of it my fault, it is all my evil twin's doing. 

On the other hand, though, maybe this will be the "hook" that
grabs the attention at Harvard! Gotta think on this. 

Before I go on, I have to explain it had taken a lot of work by a
number of people to pull this production together in one
afternoon. So I'd like to take this opportunity to thank them. 

First, I'd like to thank my hairdressers, Steph and my mom.
Without them, especially mom, I wouldn't be where I am today. 

Carl, call him my director, did some very important phoning to
set things up with the band and the school custodial and grounds
staffs, to whom I also extend my heartfelt gratitude. 

Meanwhile, my producer, daddy, bless his heart, pitched in by
calling some of his clients. Like I told you, he's an accountant
and, as it turns out, he knows some very influential and useful
people. He's such a pussycat, he'd do anything for me! 

Thank you Fanucci and Kai, fireworks specialists. Fannuci and
Kai, they light up the sky! For information and prices, call
555-1438. 

Oh, and we mustn't forget Steph's role as horse wrangler, for it
was her ebony gelding I was astride. 

The band blared! Bucephalus galloped, his mane flying to whip me
in the face and breasts. I steered him around the pile of lumber
and, as I passed home plate, I somehow managed to toss the flare
on to the heap of wood which had, with forethought, been
encouraged toward flammability with a good dousing of kerosene. 

Circling back around the incipient conflagration, I reined
Bucephalus to a halt where second base would be, just as flames
leaped skyward with a crackling roar! Poor Bucephalus, his eyes
rolling and ears laid back, ad libbed nicely, rearing up, pawing
the air, almost unseating me, adding a nice dramatic touch to the
scene. 

Trust me, I've seen the video - definitely way cool! Though it
scared the pee out of me when he did it, I tell you! 

Somehow I managed to calm him before he stampeded right back out
into the darkness with me clinging desperately and ignominiously
to his back. Leaping off him, I swung him away from the fire,
released the reins, and gave him a swat, trusting he'd find
Stephanie out there, somewhere in the darkness. He needed no more
encouragement to get himself elsewhere at a gallop, I assure you!


Oh, and, though we staged it all without ASPCA oversight, I
assure you, no animals were harmed during this production. 

Standing at second base, naked as the day I was born, hands on my
hips, feet apart, the light of the roaring blaze washing over my
bare flesh, I watched the flames soar into the sky. I felt like a
Viking woman, an Amazon, a Valkyrie out of Wagner's opera
Siegfried. I was a pagan goddess! 

The crowd went wild! 

"Beat Eastern! Beat Eastern!" I yelled when the noise died down.

 "BEAT EASTERN! BEAT EASTERN! BEAT EASTERN!" the cheerleaders
screamed, taking up the chant. 

"BEAT EASTERN! BEAT EASTERN! BEAT EASTERN! BEAT EASTERN!" the
crowd roared. 

I went into a mad dance, circling the roaring blaze, feeling its
heat on my naked backside, my nude flanks, my bare breasts and
pussy as I twirled and pranced in a primitive, pagan dance,
screaming "BEAT EASTERN!" at the top of my lungs. To add to the
drama I impulsively swept up a blazing length of wood, scattering
sparks, almost setting my  hair on fire for real, brandishing
overhead like a flaming sword. 

Oh, it was GLORIOUS! As I danced, the band closed formation,
drums beating furiously, forming up at the edge of the infield,
striking up a fight song when the cheering began to peter out. I
continued to stir the crowd, waving my arms and the makeshift
torch, circling the flames. The cheerleaders filled in with more
cheers between band numbers. 

Finally I pitched the blazing stick back into the fire and took
up a stance at home plate, facing the backstop, the crowd, the
football team a few yards away, proudly, bravely staring right
into Freschetti's eyes, not giving an inch to him. He was as
naked as I was, a dark hairy figure among his sweats clad
teammates. 

Forming my hands into a megaphone, I turned toward the crowd on
the first base side. 

"Who we gonna beat?" I asked. 

"EASTERN!" the crowd on that side roared. 

"How we gonna beat `em?" I asked the third base crowd. 

"BAAAAADD!" the third base crowd roared. 

Okay, so that should be "badly," an adverb. So sue me! 

Left - BEAT!

Right - EASTERN!

I kept that up as the flames behind me slowly died, swiveling
back and forth, back and forth, my throat getting raw, until all
I needed to do was turn and point

Left - BEAT! 

Right - EASTERN!

Left - BEAT 

Right - EASTERN! 

BEAT! EASTERN! BEAT! EASTERN! BEAT! EASTERN! BEAT!EASTERN!
BEAT!EASTERN! BEATEASTERN! BEATEASTERN!
BEATEASTERN!BEATEASTERN!BEATEASTERN! 

Faster and faster and faster until it became a roar. 

By then the fire had died down to embers. Whirling to face the
glowing coals, I threw my arms up, instantly silencing the crowd,
and, right on cue, the floodlights went out, plunging us into
darkness but for little blue flames dancing over the mound of
glowing coals, a few sparks spiraling upwards. 

There was a breathless silence, broken only by an occasional pop
and crackle from the remains of the fire, a nervous rustle from
the crowd in the bleachers, a small child calling out "what's
happening, mommy?" 

For a heart stopping moment I thought nothing would happen. 

Suddenly, out in center field, three bursts of sparks and smoke
shot upwards, one after the other - CHUFF! - CHUFF! - CHUFF! 

Unmistakably, aerial fireworks being launched. 

There were a few seconds of hushed, expectant, startled silence
as the crowd stared upward, their eyes tracking three tiny,
dwindling sparks soaring up and up and up into the darkness. 

Suddenly three fiery chrysanthemums blossomed high overhead,
fireballs, glittering, glowing, swiftly expanding and fading
spheres of scarlet and gold lighting up the night sky with the
school colors. 

BANG! - BANG! - BANG! Almost drowning out the "OOOHS!" and
"AHHHHS!" the explosions echoed across the field, across the
town, loud enough to be heard all the way out at Eastern High - a
final, powerful coda to the rally. 

The fireworks faded and I dashed away in the darkness to where
mom and daddy waited with the car. Behind me the band struck up a
stirring march, and the cheering, yelling crowd began to leave as
the field lights came back on. 

"Take that, Freschy," I muttered, diving into the back seat of
the car and slamming the door behind me. 

"What, darling?" my mom asked. 

"Nothing," I answered. I'd faced Freschetti, front and center in
the ranks of the football players, and stared him down. He'd
thought he'd humiliate me, well I wasn't going to let him. He'd
handed me a lemon, or at least thought he had, so I'd taken it
and thrown lemonade back in his face, and I'd do the same thing
tomorrow at the game. 

"Hey, don't you have anything to say to me, Lizard Breath?" a
wonderful, marvelously, super familiar voice said. 

"JOHNNY!" I practically threw myself at my brother, totally
forgetting for the moment my state of undress. 

"Ooooff! Whoa, take it easy, sis!" 

Suddenly conscious of the awkward way he was holding me, I
started to pull away, then said the heck with it, and gave him a
super-huge naked hug. "Why didn't anyone tell me you were coming
home?" 

"We wanted it to be a surprise, dear," Mom explained. "We were
afraid if you knew he was going to be here it would make you
nervous!" 

"You mean more nervous than I already was?" I asked, finally
unwrapping myself from him and settling next to him, holding his
hand, squeezing his arm. 

"Is this my shy, modest little sister?" he asked, laughing. "Not
so little any longer, I guess," he added, giving me a look that
made me tingle. 

I made a face. "Not so modest any more, either," I confessed.
"When did you get here?" 

"In plenty of time to see everything," he answered. 

"And everything is what you saw - what you're seeing," I pointed
out. 

"You're looking good, Lizard Breath!" 

Let me tell you, by the way, that he is the onliest person in the
whole wide world, in the whooole UNIVERSE, that can get away with
calling me that and live! 

I blushed. "Thanks. Are you going to be here for the game
tomorrow? I'm - uh - on display again then, too." 

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. And even at church Sunday, I
understand?" 

I nodded, blushing even more. "Pastor Bill said it would be okay
if I wanted to do it. He's even asked me to do one of the
readings, and say something about The Program. You know about The
Program?" 

He nodded. "Mom's been keeping me posted on it." 

"What do you think of it?" I asked anxiously.

He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm wishing they'd had it
when I was here. Let me tell you, some of the attitudes in
college toward women, toward sex, well - things are seriously
warped, I  tell you!" 

"You think it's good?" I asked, thinking of the strain and stress
of trying to mold the attitudes of the Freschetti's of the world
into something more civilized through exposure. 

"I think it's great," he assured me. 

"Would you have participated if they'd had it back then?" I
wondered. 

He thought this over, the street lights playing over his face. He
looked older, more mature even after this short a time away. "I
don't know if I'm brave enough. I like to think I would have
been, but I'm not sure." Then he lightened up. "So, who's this
guy I hear you're dating?" 

"Carl Walker? Do you remember him?" I asked. 

"Kind of a geeky guy?" 

"He's not," I argued defensively. "He's a swimmer, and sweet and
kind, and real smart, and...." 

"Okay, okay," Jeff laughed, reassuring me. "I'm sure he walks on
water!" 

"He does not!" I argued. "I told you, he's on the swimming team!"


Then I realized what I'd said and joined in the laughter, and I
realized suddenly that I really was feeling comfortable in my
skin, and nothing else! 

I wondered if I should tell Johnny I was no longer a virgin,
thanks to Carl. Then I wondered if my brother was still a virgin
- or if he had been before he went to college, for that matter.
He's three years older than me. We were close before he'd gone
away, but not so close that we'd shared his sex life. Of course,
I'd been pretty young and naive at that time anyway. 

Then I realized he'd only been away a couple of months, and
marveled at how much had happened to me in that short time. 

"I can't get used to seeing you like that," my brother said
softly as we drove homeward, looking at me as the lights outside
the car swept over my naked breasts. 

"Well get used to it, bro," I countered. "'cause this is how I'm
gonna be until Monday morning!" 

He grinned. "I think I can live with it," he assured me. "I hear
you've even gotten mom and dad into The Program. Something about
a naked dinner?" 

I eyed him mischievously. "I dare you to join us for a naked
breakfast tomorrow." 

He laughed. "Be careful what you wish for, sis, you may just get
it." 

"Oh my," Mom sighed from the front seat. "Naked breakfast? All
four of us?" 

"I'd hate to be the only one," I answered innocently. 

"I think it would be fine, dear, only don't try to fry any bacon
that way," daddy suggested, giving mom a grin, and I think he
patted her thigh. Then he looked at me in the rear-view mirror
with a twinkle in his eye and gave me a wink! 

I couldn't help thinking that if this kept up I might wind up
with a baby brother or sister! I don't THINK mom was past that
yet. 

I was exhausted, of course, when we got home. But once we got in
the door I still had the energy to give daddy a huge hug of
thanks for the work he'd done for the pep rally. He was the one
who'd arranged the fireworks, and that hadn't been easy on such
short notice. 

The poor sweetie, he didn't know where to put his hands on me,
his naked daughter!

"It's okay to hug me daddy," I assured him softly, and he gave me
a big squeeze then. "Thank you, daddy." 

"You're welcome, sweetie." 

"Anyone want some ice cream and cake before toddling off to bed?"
mom suggested. 

So we all gathered around the kitchen table and dug into a half
gallon of Rocky Road and one of mom's super-scrumptious chocolate
layer cakes with fudge icing, with big glasses of milk, and it
was just like old times, when we'd come back from one of Johnny's
basketball games or something. Only this time it was after I'd
led a pep rally, naked, and I was naked with my family, and I'd
be naked with them for two more days. 

As I dragged my weary body upstairs I was suddenly aware of some
strange abrasions on my butt and the insides of my thighs -- 
naked horseback riding has its hazards! There was one thing good
about being naked, I reflected. I didn't need to undress for bed,
at least. I barely had the energy to brush my teeth and take care
of other little necessities before I flopped into bed. 

Nor did I have to dress when I got up Saturday. It was
mid-morning before I managed to drag myself downstairs. I'd been
absolutely comatose for a good ten hours. Daddy was in the living
room, reading his newspaper, as naked as I was! He gave me a
bashful wave as I passed. Mom was in the kitchen, frying bacon,
wearing only an apron.  

We were having a naked breakfast!

"Hi, mom!" I croaked, getting myself some orange juice. 

"Well, good morning sunshine!" 

"Been up long?" I asked, my head clearing as my blood sugar rose.


"Not long. Your father's only on his second cup of coffee. I was
about to wake you so you'd have time to get ready for this
afternoon." 

"What's to get ready?" I asked. "It's not like I have to dress,
after all." 

"Well, your hair is going to need some work, for one thing," she
pointed out. "You'll have to get the gunk so we can re-do it. And
then there's the paint job to do." 

The paint job. I'd forgotten that! I caught sight of my
reflection in the toaster and made a face. My lovely `do had
become a tangled mess. At least the bleach and dye job wouldn't
have to be redone, though I was going to look weird while it grew
out. 

"I'll need a shower," I decided. 

"Well, let's eat before then," Mom suggested, setting a plate of
bacon on the table and turning back to start some scrambled eggs.
"Why don't you go roust out your brother so he can join us." 

"Naked?" I asked. 

"Only if he so chooses," she answered in a gently scolding tone.

"Yes'm," I agreed, already scheming as I headed up the stairs to
get him up. 

I cracked his door open as quietly as I could and peeked in. He
was on his back, snoring softly, one arm across his eyes to keep
the sun out. The sheet was down almost to his waist and he wasn't
wearing a shirt or anything. 

A hundred schemes stampeded through my mind, but I opted for the
simple, straightforward pounce, landing on him with a thud that
made the bed groan. 

"WHAAAF!" he bellowed. 

"Get up, get up, get up!" I exhorted, bouncing up and down on him
the way I had on Daddy on Christmas morning when I was a little
kid. "It's breakfast time!" 

"Leave me alone, you little minx," he growled, trying to toss me
off. 

"Get up, get up, get up," I insisted, bouncing him some more. 

"I'll get YOU up!" he protested, surging up, wrestling me off
him, or trying to, only we both got tangled in the sheets, lost
our balance and tumbled out of bed with a crash that shook the
house. 

"What's going on up there?" daddy called loudly from downstairs.

We both froze. "Nothing," we called in unison, laughing,
untangling ourselves from each other and the sheet. 

Only then was I sure he was as naked as I was, and was I ever
sure! He had a hardon! 

He saw where I was looking, and blushed. "Don't flatter yourself,
Lizard Breath, this is just my usual morning boner," he informed
me. "Now get out of here while I tend to some personal things,
like taking a pee!" 

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." I backed off, a bit unsettled by his
state. "But don't dress for breakfast," I told him. "Mom and dad
haven't." 

"Okay, okay," he mumbled, staggering toward the bathroom. "Tell
mom I'll be down in a minute." 

After breakfast and a shower I was almost ready for my paint job.


Carl and Stephanie were waiting in my room to help get me ready,
bolstering me as my nerves threatened to get the better of me. 

"You're beautiful," Stephanie assured me as she helped mom make
repairs to my hair do. The colors were fine, but they had to
re-mousse it after I'd showered and shampooed it. As I'd let the
hot water stream down on me I couldn't help wishing that Steph
and Carl were in there with me, but that, I think, would have
been too much for daddy's nerves. 

While mom and Stephanie coaxed my hair into a flaming crest of
gold and scarlet that would have done a bird-of-paradise proud,
Carl was kneeling between my open legs, using an electric razor
to remove the stubble on my pussy, and doing a very good job of
it I might add! 

But when I tried subtly to get him to linger over my throbbing
pussy he pulled away. "Uh uh," he said with a negative shake of
his head. "You're going to need all you're strength for this
afternoon." 

"What's that?" mom asked. 

"Nothing," I answered quickly, frustratingly close to an orgasm
from the razor. 

 "Listen to your director," Stephanie urged, dealing with a
crimson lock of hair that insisted on drooping over my left ear.
"You're going to be naked in front of thousands of people. Save
your energy for that!" 

"Now stand up so we can get started on your body paint," Carl
ordered. He checked the clock. "And I think we're going to need
help from everyone if we're going to get you done in time." 

"Daddy, too?" I asked. 

"And your brother," mom agreed, opening the paints. 

I looked down at myself. My nipples were already hard, and I
wondered if they'd stay that way all day. "There's not that much
of me!" I pointed out. 

"But it's a tricky job," Stephanie pointed out. "I'll go get
them." 

Oh God! How would daddy handle this?!? His little girl was going
to be a painted lady - literally! From head to toe and back to
front! Thanks to mom there were a couple of sketches, front view
and back view, stuck up on my bulletin board. 

I was a "paint by the numbers" project! 

Daddy came in with a little stool and they made me stand on it
while they painted me with the school colors, from head to toe.
They parceled parts of me out, giving daddy and Johnny the less
intimate parts - my back, arms and legs, while Steph and mom
dealt with my front. Steph got my pussy, of course, and she
teased me with her brush even more wickedly than Carl had teased
me with the razor! 

The paint was chilly, of course, and the brushes tickled and
stroked me all over. Even the lips of my pussy were painted, a
bright scarlet, while most of my front was gold, except for my
titties, scarlet, too. 

The gold shaded off to crimson on my sides, while my back was
crimson with two stripes running from my shoulders to my butt
cheeks, the crack being done in crimson, too. We'd thought of a
golden stripe right down the center, but decided that looked too
much like a yellow stripe. 

Even my face was made up in crimson and gold, with some black
eye-liner giving my eyes a feline, or maybe oriental look. 

When they were done I got down off the stool and looked in myself
in the mirror. 

This incredibly gorgeous creature looked back at me. I blinked,
and she blinked. "Wow!" I breathed. 

"Now just stand there and let it dry a few minutes," mom
cautioned. "Hold your arms out!" 

I did, so she could touch me up where I'd smudged a little. 

"Once it dries you'll be fairly safe," mom said, "but try not to
sweat too much." 

"Yes, mother," I agreed, looking at this incredible vision in
scarlet and gold in my mirror. 

In about an hour I was going to be standing in front of a stadium
full of people in nothing but this dramatic coat of paint! 

OhmyGOSH! 


<15th attachment end>

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