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Message-ID: <33077asstr$1003972203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Peregrinf" <dfowler@catskill.net>
Reply-to: dfowler@catskill.net
Priority: normal
Subject: {ASSM} RP Carl Naked in School 1/15 (m exhib mast)
Date: Wed, 24 Oct 2001 21:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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 * This message contains the file 'Carl.doc', which has been
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The idea for this series obviously comes from the "Karen Naked at
School" series posed by Karen Wagner back in June of this year. I
felt the males who participated in the school program should be
given the opportunity to tell of their experiences. I can only
offer Karen my thanks for the inspiration. I hope I have done her
orginal concept justice. 

Peregrinef

------------------


Carl Naked in School 1/15 (m exhib mast)

I'm sure you've read Karen's story of her week naked in school.
The only trouble with it is that she tells it as if she were the
only one walking the halls and going to class with it all hanging
out, so to speak. Well, let me tell you MY story. 

As she explained at the beginning of her tale, there was to be
one girl and one boy from each class, frosh, junior and senior,
chosen each week to take part in the program. Well, that first
week, I was the junior class boy. My name is Carl Walker, and,
like Karen, I'm a junior. I know her, but not well -  we're on
different academic tracks, have different extracurriculars and
move in different social circles, though I suppose our pictures
will be side by side in the yearbook - Wagner, Walker?. 

I know I'm seen as a bit of a  nerd. I'm a geek, I admit it.. I'm
on the fast track to college, probably physics. I'm five foot
eleven, and still growing (I hope), on the skinny side, maybe 150
pounds, blond hair, blue eyes. 

Anyway, at the same time Karen was called into the principal's
office and made to strip, I was called into Miss Mitchell's
office. She's the Assistant Principal, not someone that I'd had
much to do with. Oh, I'd seen her around, said "Hi" to her a few
times. She was very formal. It was always "Hello, Mr. Walker,"
from her, never "Hi, Carl," or just "Hi." 

But it's a formal school. Respect is emphasized all the way
around. Something to do with minimizing violence or something,
but to all the teachers we are "Mr." this or "Miss" that, and
they are "Mr." or  "Mrs." or "Miss" so-and-so. 

Believe it or not, there's even a dress code! No tube tops, no
hot pants, no hats. They stopped short of the jacket and neck
tie, at least. Now I was about to find out it was all ornothing!

She's wasn't bad looking, Miss Mitchell, kind of skinny, on the
tall side. You couldn't tell a lot about her figure, `cause she
usually wore a suit. You know, a skirt that came below her knees,
a white blouse with a sort of fluffy bow tie and a jacket like a
blazer. She wore her hair short and it had a touch of silver in
with the gold, so I guess she was a natural blond. 

She was kind of old, maybe fifty, I guess. Severe looking, if you
know what I mean - gray eyes, pursed mouth. I remember once I saw
her laughing, some joke from a teacher I guess, and it surprised
me. She looked - nice. Some guys said she was a dyke, but I never
believed `em, and from my dealings I'm even more sure now I'm
right. 

Anyway, like I say, I was called into her office at the same time
Karen was called into the principal's, and I guess I was told
pretty much the same thing Karen was, and given a brochure about
it. You know, that a new program had begun, and I was chosen as
the junior boy who would have to attend all classes in the nude
for the week. 

Oh, yeah, she said it had something to do with us learning to
treat girls as something other than simply sex objects, to learn
to harness our natural energies, to behave more maturely, to
become comfortable with our bodies, blah, blah, blah. I was so
shocked I was hardly listening. 

Well, I mean, you could have fried an egg on my face! I mean,
yeah, I'd heard stuff about some new program, rumors, but I
hadn't believed half of what they were saying. And I thought I'd
be the last person in the world they'd choose even if they were
true. I mean, I was brought up to be modest. I was kind of shy,
to tell you the truth, and hadn't dated much - well, at all,
really. 

But I'm not gay or sexless. Half the time I'm walking around with
a woody, trying to peek down the blouses of the girls, or up
their skirts, trying to imagine what their breasts looked like.
Stuff like that. I've got some hot Web sites book marked on my
computer, only my Mom doesn't know it, of course. 

I hate to admit it, but at fifteen, almost sixteen, I was a
virgin. 

Anyway, there I am, holding that brochure with a photo of a naked
girl and boy on the cover, and she's saying, "Strip, Mr. Walker,
or I will have someone help you do it." 

"Naked?" I asked stupidly. 

"Naked." It was the same, no-nonsense tone she'd use when she
caught someone horsing around in the hall, or when she took
cigarettes away from some dork stupid enough to get caught with
them. Mind you, I don't touch `em, and I don't drink, either. I
guess I've got a reputation as a real straight arrow, and here
I'm being told I was going to walk around school naked for a
week! Shit!. 

But, after taking a look at the two security officers smirking at
me, I put down my stuff and began unbuttoning my shirt, LL Bean,
of course, white, short sleeved oxford, button down collar and
all. I emptied the pocket, wondering where I was going to keep my
calculator, my pencils and stuff. (Don't even THINK it!) 

When I got the shirt off one of the guards took it and I sat down
to take off my shoes next, then my socks, trying to put off the
inevitable as long as I could. All I had to do was think about
being naked with a girl and, well, I rose to the occasion, if you
know what I mean. Like, already I had a hardon that would punch a
hole in concrete, for chrissakes! 

"Pants," she ordered when I'd finished tucking my socks in my
shoes. "You will be allowed shoes and socks, by the way." 

Big deal! I thought. Standing up again, I fumbled with my belt,
got it open, undid the button, ran my zipper down. I was scarlet
from head to toe as I bent to slide my jeans down, trying not to
look at her, trying to hide the hardon trying to crawl through
the fly of my jockeys. The guard took my jeans and put them in a
box with my shirt. 

Then it was my underpants. I turned my back on her, but it wasn't
much help, giving her a good look at my butt as I skinned them
down, facing the guy who'd already taken my shirt and jeans. I
straightened, my dick sticking out like the bowsprit of some
friggin' sailing ship or something, bobbing up and down heavily.

"You can put your shoes and socks on, if you'd like." 

I burned red. "Oh, yeah, thanks." I had to sit down in full view
of her, my dick sticking up from my lap like a flagpole. It was
even drooling a bit of pre-cum! 

Somehow I did manage to get my socks and shoes on. I quick got up
and turned toward the door, wanting to get away from her so much
I wasn't even thinking of what was probably waiting outside the
door. 

"Don't forget your books, and the pamphlet, and find the time to
familiarize yourself with it" Miss Mitchell reminded me as I
reached for the door. "And your pencil and pen and calculator." 

"Oh, uhm, yes'm, Miss Mitchell." I sort of sidled toward her,
trying to hide my dick from her, but it didn't really work. I saw
her eyes flick down to my cock, and for just a moment I thought I
saw her lips twitch and maybe there was a gleam of interest in
her eyes? I fumbled and dropped stuff, finally getting it all
corralled. Holding it front of my crotch didn't do much good,
since my dick stuck out like an iron bar. 

"Remember the rules, Mr. Walker," she reminded me. "Three five
minute bathroom breaks, you use the  girl's locker room for gym,
and you are to remain nude through all extra-curricular
activities as well, save those where you are required to wear
protection, such as certain sports, in which case only the
necessary protection is to be worn. Oh, and one other thing." 

"Yes'm?" I had my hand on the doorknob, ashamed even to look in
her direction, at the same time dreading what I was going to face
outside the office.  

"In view of the adolescent male libido - you do know what
`libido' means, don't you, Mr. Walker?" 

"Uh, yeah," I admitted. "I think so. Sex drive, right?" I risked
looking at her. 

There was the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Close
enough. Anyway, I believe you'll find, if you haven't already,
that a prolonged period of sexual arousal without relief results
in what I believe is called a case of blue balls. Do you know
what I'm talking about?" 

I nodded numbly. 

"In view of your condition," her gesture took in my throbbing
hardon, "the rules allow for you to ask for relief at the
beginning of each class period. You'll be permitted to
masturbate, or even seek assistance in relieving your sexual
tension. But it can only be done in full view of the class, and
only in the first five minutes of the class period." 

"In front of the whole class?" For the first time in two years my
voice cracked. 

"That's the rule, Mr. Walker. In front of the class. The teachers
have, of course, received a full briefing on this program, so
they will not be surprised. In fact, I suspect they will be
expecting the request," she concluded. "It's all in the brochure,
Mr. Walker. Please take the time to familiarize yourself with the
rules. No clothes, no backpack, even, nothing to conceal your
body from your fellow students. You can't even use your hands -
not that they would do much good as long as you have that
erection. And you must cooperate with any reasonable requests
your teachers or fellow students may make of you during the
week." 

I gulped. "This is n...." 

"These are the rules, Mr. Walker. Try to conduct yourself with
dignity and a good nature and I think you may even learn to enjoy
the situation. You'll find your clothes outside the south
entrance at the end of the day, and please use that entrance all
this week both coming and going. There is a box in which to
deposit your clothes before you enter the building. Now you'd
best hurry to your first class." 

Just as I reached for the doorknob I heard some cheering and
commotion out in the hallway, and froze, my dick actually
wilting. 

"Ah, I suspect the other chosen ones have probably emerged. On
your way now, Mr. Walker. And try to enjoy yourself. Your clothes
will be waiting you outside the school at the end of the day." 

So I opened the door and stepped out, into a wall of sound, girls
shrieking, boys applauding as I turned scarlet. Perversely, my
dick shot back to attention, looking like a torpedo seeking a
target. I tried to like, be casual, thinking of how
Michelangelo's statue of David looked, but it didn't really work.
I mean, shit, he wasn't circumcised (I am) and he didn't have a
hardon like a baseball bat! 

Then the bell rang and I had to hurry to make it to physics, my
first class. As I pushed through the throng, I felt more than a
few touches on my bare butt, and someone, I don't even know if it
was a boy or a girl, even grabbed a quick feel of my throbbing
dork. It was a good thing they didn't stroke me or they would
probably have wound up with a handful of cum! 

"Ah, Mr. Walker, it's good to see you so - uhm - alert this
morning," Mr. Cranover greeted me cheerily as I walked in to a
wave of titters and chuckles. Mercifully, there weren't too many
girls in the class. Some of the guys looked embarrassed by my
state and some gave me sympathetic smiles. 

"G'morning," I mumbled, heading for my seat and the safe
concealment of my desk. 

"You look a little tense this morning, Mr. Walker," Mr. Cranover
observed. 

"I'm okay," I assured him, a bit testily, I admit. I slid
awkwardly into my seat. It was cold on my fanny, and my dick
stuck up from my lap, resting against the desk itself.  

"Just remember the rules, Mr. Walker," he reminded me. "Now,
let's go on with our discussion of Newton's laws of motion." 

Maybe he was being kind, but at least he didn't call on me the
whole period. By the time we were halfway through class, though,
I was feeling twinges that had me worried. Shit, I'd been hard
for half an hour. If I didn't get some relief I was going to be
bent over like a croquet hoop. 

For a moment I thought of jacking off behind the concealment of
my desk, rules be dammed. Then I saw Lori, a cute blond
cheerleader -- bright, too -- next to me, looking sideways at me,
licking her lips, and realized, as I stiffened even more, that
I'd never get away with it. Like, there was no room, and my cock
was actually leaning up against the desk itself, drooling, no
less! If I came it'd look like Old Faceful with my cum shooting
straight up into the air! As it was, every time I took a breath
the underside of my dick rubbed up and down, up and down, against
the desk, only serving to keep me rigid as a flagpole. 

I was in trouble. Surreptitiously, I checked the brochure I'd
been given, quickly reading the part about relieving my tension.
It was quite explicit about having to do it during the first five
minutes of a class, and in front of the class. 

I thought I'd get a chance between classes to duck into the john
and take care of my problem, but sure enough, one of the security
people just happened to be outside the door to escort me to my
next class. 

"I need to go to the john," I said. 

"I'll go with you," he assured me politely. 

I thought of trying to pee through the hardon I was carrying.
"Never mind." I tried to ignore his smirk as I waddled down the
hall, kind of bow legged, trying to keep from jostling my aching
balls. 

Oh Jeeze! French with Mademoiselle Duclos was next! I'd had a
hardon for her since the first day. She was maybe thirty, wore
tight sweaters and short skirts, had short black hair and bright
blue eyes, lips designed to be kissed, or maybe wrapped around a
cock. Half the guys in class, and maybe some of the girls, too,
had a crush on her. 

But I also knew that if I didn't do something soon, I'd be
crawling through the rest of the day. 

Shit! 

"Ah, bon jour, Monsieur Walker," she greeted me cheerily as I
entered the room. "I am so `appy to see you this morning. And you
are `appy to see me, non?" 

I thought I saw the tip of her tongue touch her upper lip as she
looked right at my dick. Damned if I didn't get even harder right
there in the doorway. Oh God, I wanted to curl up and die,
because I knew what I was going to have to do if I was going to
survive the next five minutes. 

"Bon jour, Mademoiselle Duclos," I greeted her, fidgeting
nervously rather than going to my desk. 

"You per'aps `ave a leetle problem, Monsieur Walker? Or, maybe it
is not so leetle a problem?" She pushed some papers around on her
desk, and I saw she had a copy of the same pamphlet I'd been
given by Miss Mitchell, and it was open to the page covering the
- ah - relief clause. 

So, I find myself, stark naked, facing the class, my dick
standing out hard and strong. Now, you remember that dream you
have some times, where you're naked in school? Well, this was no
dream. And there were some foxy girls in that class. And in the
third row, there was Beth, who I'd taken to the movies only last
Saturday as our first ever date, and then I'd shuffled and
stammered as we stood at her door, and then she went in and I
hadn't even asked her for a kiss. 

I started to cramp and winced. Flaming red, I moved to the front
of the room and put my stuff on the teacher's desk. I couldn't
bear to look at anyone, fidgeting nervously. 

"Time is passing, Monsieur Walker," Mademoiselle Duclos reminded
me, shoving a box of tissues in my direction. "I anticipated this
problem and prepared the class should you need relief, so they
know what to expect." 

They knew, all right. They were practically panting to watch me
do my thing. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. 

Instead I gave in to the inevitable, wrapped my hand around my
dick and pumped it a couple of times, and it felt so good! My
balls tightened up and I looked at Beth, and her glasses were
practically fogging up as she studied my dick. Then she looked
into my eyes, and licked her lips, and I went off like a cannon.
I barely got the tissues up in time to catch the thick, hot
spurts of cum. I mean, I saw stars, and my knees went weak and my
toes curled. I kept cumming and cumming, until it felt like my
balls were wringing themselves dry. Finally I sagged wearily and
managed to suck in some air, which smelled of my cum. 

"Very good, Monsieur Walker!" Mademoiselle Duclos said,
applauding, and the whole class burst into applause and whistles
and cheering while I was still trying to get my breath back. "No,
no, do not go to your seat. Stay here for a few moments, if you
please." 

I was barely able to move anyway. 

"Now, class, with Monsieur Walker's assistance, we shall go over
some of the slang anatomical terms in French." 

I blushed more than ever as she drew me out from behind her desk,
her hand hot on my bare arm. Reaching between my legs, she gently
lifted and fondled my still tender balls, my cock rising like the
Phoenix from the ashes, still drooling from its last eruption. 

"Ze formal term for one of these is `testicule,' The slang is,
however, is `couilles.'" She explained. "The word for penis is
`bitte,' which is literally `bollard,' which means, how would you
say it, `a post,' like you might tie a ship to?" she continued,
spelling out each word on the white board after touching, on me,
what she was talking about! 

"Monsieur Walker entered the room with `un bander,' meaning to
have a `ard-on. `e could, in fact `ave been said to have been
`bander comme un cerf' which means `hard as a deer' or `comme un
tigre,' like a tiger." Grinning at me, she growled deep in her
throat, stroking the underside of my quickly stiffening dick. 

"And ze term for the manipulation he so kindly, and productively
demonstrated for us is `branlage' or sometimes `branlette.' 

She caught a gob of post cum drooling off my cock and
theatrically sucked it off her finger. "And, I am happy to say, 
Monsieur Walker's `foutre,' as it is called, is quite delicious."


I was hard as stone again. 

It was going to be a very long day, and a longer week! 

-----------------------



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