This story is fiction. Actually, the setting of an artificial world in Space and the year being 2109 should have been enough to clue you in about that.
I don't care how old are. I don't care how young you are. However, the law does care, so if you are too young, go away (or at least try not to get caught).
If this story is against the law where you live, then like the young folk, go away. Or at least...
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I’m not writing this for
English or History or any other class.
I’m just writing this for myself and for you, my readers from a
hundred-plus years ago. All through the
last journal, I tried to pretend that somehow, you really would see this, and
I’m going to maintain that pretense now.
It is now Monday, June 3rd
of 2109. Three months ago, I was
inducted into the Naked in School Program.
A week after that, I put my clothes back on, but I was a changed woman. Not all of the changes were because of the
Program, but most or all of them were related to it in some fashion.
My worst enemy became a
creepy sort of friend. She’d tried to
humiliate me, but I’d turned it around on her.
But I went too far, because she just wasn’t normal for a while. Even after she was dressed again, she was
strange. At least now she avoided me
instead of seeking me out. I much
preferred that. When we would bump into
each other, at least until after Spring Break, she still acted shy and
submissive. There was still a bit of
that after Spring Break, but it diminished quickly. Last Wednesday, we actually argued, ending
with this exchange:
“Anzu, you stupid
bitch! Let’s just stay the hell away
from each other!”
“Best idea I’ve heard
all year!”
I’d snarled and wrinkled
my nose and bared my teeth and spun around and stomped off. I had to spin around to keep her from seeing
me smile. I couldn’t help but grin. In fact I was so happy I could have kissed
her, and not just to gross her out.
Jeness was back to normal AND I wasn’t going to have to put up with her
scheming bitchery OR her creepy clinging submissiveness.
I did talk to the school
shrink, who told me that it’s perfectly normal to get excited and horny and wet
and breathless and finger myself to a shaking orgasm over the idea of sexually
humiliating somebody so bad she cries, screams, and throws up. Really.
Perfectly normal.
The difference, he tells
me, is that I didn’t actually do it, except that one time when I didn’t realize
how strongly it would impact her. When
push came to shove (and what exactly does that mean, anyway?), I not only
didn’t join in with the gang-not-rape-exactly, I took steps to stop it. My virtue, he tells me, is stronger than my
lust, for either sex or vengeance. For
all that she’d been my enemy, I’d helped rather than
hurt somebody who needed help. So I’m a
good person.
Well maybe. I still get wet thinking about making out
with her in the hall, grossing her out and then making it even worse. Of getting a woman who can’t stand the site
of two girls kissing to kiss me, and deeply.
And I did actually do that, so how good am I?
And speaking of kissing
girls…
Even without the
Program, I think Botilda and I would have admitted our feelings for each other,
but it might’ve been over Spring Break instead of at Holly-Kon. It turns out her parents have known all
along, and don’t have a problem. This
floored Botilda, who thought her ‘rents were more strait-laced than they
are. Not that they aren’t pretty
straight in the laces, just not as bad as we’d figured. So now we make no pretense, and in fact she’s
my date for the Summer Dance that O’Neill High will be throwing on Saturday the
22nd, signaling the beginning of Summer Break. I’d tell you all how much I love her, but
there just aren’t the words.
I had another enemy,
sort of, in Bret. Once he gave up the
whole getting even thing, he turned out to be a wonderful guy. Here the Program was a very big deal, because
it allowed him (thanks to Jeness, weirdly enough) to get past the getting even
thing without having to get even. If he
had taken some sort of vengeance, I might have been the resentful one, and then
how much longer for us to get together?
It might have been next year.
Bret could’ve been a
real monkey wrench in my relationship with Botilda, but it hasn’t turned out
that way. Botilda has had her moments of
jealousy, her moments of insecurity, but she knows, really, that I’m not going
to leave her for Bret or for anybody else.
There wouldn’t even be those moments if we hadn’t always tried to
pretend that our love-making was only for practice, or for fun, and that as
soon as we started doing guys we’d quit with the whole “lesbians of
convenience” thing. But it has nothing
to do with convenience, and she’s happy to share me with a man, as long as she
keeps me too. Sharing me with another
girl I don’t think she’d go for.
I know they’ve thought
of doing each other. They think I don’t
know, but I do. And here I’ve had my own
moments of jealousy. Botilda is MY
lover, damn it! But again, she loves me,
and I couldn’t think of a better man for her to give her boy cherry to than
Bret. He isn’t going to take her away
from me, doesn’t want to, and wouldn’t if he could, which he can’t. Maybe I can even join in. Now there’s a sexy idea.
You know what’s
funny? Why don’t I feel jealousy the
other way? Why don’t I fear that Botilda
will take Bret away from me? But I don’t. I guess this is because (and I’d never tell
either of them this) I trust Botilda more than I do Bret. Or maybe I fear losing her more than I do
him. I’ve been with her longer after
all. But I do think that I love
him. Which means that
not only am I bi, I’m poly.
Again, this would be true without the Program, but it’s helped me to see
it more quickly than I would have.
My final enemy is the
Warlord, John Carter Soon To Be of Mars Again.
He’s gone back to his grumpy old self, and to be honest I’m not going to
miss him when Paxton takes his place, right after Summer Break. There is one thing, though: last week we had
another Program participant in Biology.
It was obvious Carter wasn’t happy having another one of THOSE in his
class, but he didn’t pick on the guy.
The nude dude, Robert, was wise enough not to push things by, for
instance, taking relief.
Over Spring Break
Botilda and I mostly stayed around Mendocino, but we did take a four-day trip
to High Vail for some snowboarding and mini-biathlon. We’re not that good, but hey, over five
kilometres we’re not that bad. We even
watched a tenth-G pairs figure skating competition. I’m lucky to stand up in ice skates, so I
really respect people who can move like that.
And of course there was tons of love-making.
Speaking of moving: the
dance I’d seen on Dancing In the Stars, with
the sing-song instructions and all the partner-switching? Well, it exists in your day, is quite old,
and is called “square dancing.” The
low-G version is known as “cube dancing” because a cube is a three-dimensional
square. I’m taking lessons during this
Summer Break.
I’m also going to be working
with Rashida to get the nude rave going.
I won’t be leaving Mendocino this Break.
Turns out she and Sam Mizuno thought of it before I mentioned it to
them, and then we learned that Kachina and Keith had started work back in
February. It will be a part of Nude
Fridays in
Botilda still hasn’t
been chosen for the Program, and I’m starting to think that she might beat the
odds. Of course, she might not. There’s still half of this year and all of
next. But whether she escapes the
Program or not, I’m there for her.
This week’s participant
for our Homeroom is Ralph. I made him an
offer in the last few minutes of my own week, and I’m not sure how I feel if he
decides to take me up on it. When you’re
in the Program, all sorts of things seem reasonable that might not any other
time. If he asks, though, I’ll probably
do it. After all, most straight folks
have a same-sex experiment sometime in their lives, so why can’t Ralph have a
different-sex experiment?
It really has been interesting,
talking to my ancestors. If you really
were able to read this, would I feel compelled to warn you of some of the
things in your future? To tell you that
you really should worry about some of the things you don’t, and that you can
relax about some of the things that keep you up nights? There are mysteries in your day that are
common knowledge today, or at least common knowledge to any high school history
buff (like me).
If I really thought you
could read this, I don’t think I’d be able to resist telling you the truth
about the JFK assassination.
THE END
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