This story is fiction.� Actually, the year being 2063 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...
(oral fM, serious petting)
I woke up this morning as soon as the alarm went off, and wasn�t dreaming.� Just as well, because the song playing was something about independent women and angels and some guy named Charlie.� Hate to think what that would�ve had me dreaming.� The tune was catchy, though.� The group was called Destiny�s Child, which is a good name.
Bathroom, no trim today, shower, hair.� Oh, I�ve been brushing my teeth every day, too, just been forgetting to mention it.� I�m supposed to floss every day, too, and I do about three times a week.� Hey, nobody�s perfect.
Dad greeted me with a mix of yogurt, diced mango and chopped Brazil nuts.� It�s not my favorite breakfast food, but better than cereal.� He had also toasted English muffins with butter and cinnamon, and hot chocolate.� Dad himself was still in his robe.� He is off work Thursdays, but works Sundays to make up for it.� The only one in this family who�s weekend only lasts two days is me.� That�s OK though, because I�d rather have school Fridays than to have one of the Breaks cut short.
�So, how�s the naked girl doing?� he asked as he poured up the cocoa.
�Doing fine,� I told him, �I�m even thinking of hitting the beach this weekend, sometime before the con.�
�The Program works, I guess.�� He ate some of that mixture, and then added, �I guess the real question is: after your week�s over, will you be hitting the beach in or without your new bikini?�
�Without,� I admitted, �if, and only if, I can find some other Program graduates doing the same.� I�m not interested in being the only naked person on the beach once this week is over.�
�You know,� Dad said, giving me that look that lets me know I shouldn�t take whatever he�s about to say seriously, �if teenage girls all start going post-Program nudie, it�ll throw the clothing industry into chaos.� It could lead to recession.�
�Nah,� I reassured him, �they�ll just all move into space suit design and theatrical costuming.� Besides, one of the main reasons people wear clothes is to show off their fashion sense.� We�ll find some way to do that, naked or clothed.�
�So what are you doing this week to show off your sense of fashion?�
�Dad, there are eleven hundred students at my school,� I pointed out, �and only twenty-two of them are naked.� Nudity is its own fashion statement.�
He nodded.� �But if more and more people start making that statement?� So many that there are more naked people than not?�
I thought for a moment.� �Well, that�s when we�d have to come up with something to distinguish one naked person from another.� Maybe body painting, or perhaps piercing will make a comeback.�
�I hope not,� he muttered.� �I always thought my father looked like a goofball, with all that metal poking out of his body.�
I was a bit surprised by that.� I�d always thought Grandpapa James looked kind of cool, in a primitive sort of way.� Not something I wanted to do myself, but I always thought it gave him a kind of tribal look.
�Hey,� he said, �you thought any about what we said before?� About how straight are you?�
�I�ve been thinking about it,� I admitted.� �But that same day the touching started, and the reaction I have to boys proves to my satisfaction that I�m not a lesbian.� I could still be bi, though, and I guess I won�t really know until I lose the boy cherry.�
Dad chuckled.� �Boy cherry.� Good way to put it.�� He sprinkled a little more cinnamon on his muffin.� �You remember I said that most straight people have had a same-sex experiment at some point?�
�Yeah.� Why?�� I wasn�t sure where this was going, but I didn�t think I was going to like it.
�Most gay people have had an opposite-sex experiment at some point,� he pointed out, scooping up a bit of Brazil nut.� �So it might not be until after you lose that �boy cherry,� and have lost it for a while, that you�ll even know for sure that you�re not gay, much less that you�re not bi.�
�Well I think I�ve found a nice young man to help me figure it all out,� I mentioned as nonchalantly as I could manage.� I polished off that English muffin.� �Between him and Botilda, I should soon know what I am.�� I took another bite of the yogurt/mango /Brazil nut mix.� �You put some vanilla in this?� It really improves the flavor.�
Dad looked real sharp at me.
�The mysterious Kevin has made himself known?�
I snorted.� �He�s made himself known alright.� And a good thing, too; I�d hate to have spent any more time panting after him.�
Dad�s eyebrows threatened to leave his face.
�I was taken in by his looks,� I confessed, �and he has some kind of magic sex radiation around him or something.� It makes him achingly hot, but the person behind all that sexual allure is an a� a jerk.�
�So now you�ve found an ordinary looking guy who�s not a jerk?�
I had to grin at that.� �Bret�s a bit more than ordinary.� He�s as hot as� well OK almost as hot as Kevin.� We had a falling-out, so he was kind of off the radar.� So my teen girl senses locked in on the handsome, strutting, confident a� jerk Kevin.�
I ate the last of the mixture.� �Seriously, the vanilla helps.� And since I didn�t know anything about him, I could imagine that he was as wonderful a guy as he looked.� So then I got naked, he finally noticed me, and revealed as much of his soul as I did my flesh.� And I don�t want sound stuck up, but my flesh is nicer than his soul.�
Dad nodded.� �The vanilla was your mother�s idea.� She said you�d like it better that way.� I owe her a buck.� So then with Kevin out, Bret came back in?� Did you reconcile because you�re nude?�
�Well, not exactly.�� I wasn�t sure exactly what had happened myself. ��Our falling-out was my fault, and he wanted to get even.� So for two months he�s been wanting revenge, and when my Program week came along, he decided it was time.�
This wasn�t making Bret look good.� Well, it wasn�t good.� The look on Dad�s face told me he didn�t think it was good.
�So Bret got even and now you�re friends again?�
�Well�� I still didn�t quite understand it.� �No.� He never got even.� Jeness tried to humiliate me��
�Now there�s a bad apple in the school�s barrel.�� His sneer was a lot like the one I got thinking about Jeness.
�Agreed, Dad.�� I took a sip of the cocoa.� �So anyway, I turned it around on her, and the next time I saw Bret, he said forget it, we�re even.� And I�m not sure why, because I wasn�t the one who suffered.� But Botilda says he�s in love with me, and that he just wanted an excuse to forget the whole vengeance thing.�
�So this Bret went from being an a� jerk,� and he winked at me, �to a nice guy, instantly?�
�He never really was an a� jerk,� and I winked right back, �He just got a bit distant, a bit cold, and I knew he was holding that grudge.� He was never really mean to me, except a little Monday, letting me know that vengeance was a�comin�.� The thing with Jeness let him go back to being the nice guy he always was.�
Dad finished off his cocoa.� �Nice enough a guy to give your virginity to?�
�Yeah Dad, that nice.�� I gulped the last of the cocoa down; it was getting too cool anyway.� �And he�s in Homeroom.� I see him two and three times a day; I actually know him, not just that he�s hot, like Kevin.�
He started gathering dishes, and again, I decided it wouldn�t kill me to help out.
�How does Botilda feel about all of this?�
�I think she wants to castrate Kevin,� I chuckled, �but she seems fine with Bret.� She even called us �romantic,� like she knows any more about romance than I do!�
Just as I was walking out the door, he noted, �Your mother is right about adding vanilla to the mix, you know.� Even I like it better that way.�
�Vanilla, yum!� I declared, walking out the door.
I was nearly to school when suddenly it struck me how strange it was that this didn�t seem strange to me.� I was walking buck naked to school, waving at men who whistled at me, and I wasn�t even embarrassed� until just now, of course.� Was I really the same girl who had had to give herself a pep talk before she could wear a bikini to the beach, just last Sunday?
I was a bit early today, and just stood outside of Homeroom, hopping up and down or imitating Desdemona (again!) whenever asked.� I actually liked jiggling my tits for guys now.� It felt nice to know that they found me so attractive.� Even the touching I recognized as a compliment, though I could feel myself blushing every time I got groped on the titties or pussy.� Strangely enough, getting my ass groped didn�t embarrass me much.� To tell the truth, it was all getting me pretty hot.
The warning bell went off and I slipped into the room, taking my seat at the head of the class.� I wondered: do I sit at the head of the class for my own benefit (helps me get over my inhibitions), or for the benefit of my classmates (helps them get used to the idea by the time they have to go through it)?� I know that seeing a different naked Program kid in class each week helped me be prepared when it was my turn.� I made a point to smile, to let them know that it isn�t that bad.
Ms. Dunlavy had me take the roll and asked if I needed relief.� I figured if I took it now, I�d be ready again by SMA.� But then I remembered that I�d be rushed in SMA, because we were going out in the vacuum.� They would make time for it (they had to), but I didn�t want to hold everybody up.� Better to take it in English and hope for the best, that is, that I wouldn�t be too hot by the time I got to Biology.� The end of this is: I didn�t take relief.
It was time to go out in the hall now, and I saw Botilda talking to Jeness, of all people.� Botilda waved me over.
�Did you tell her she could have lunch with us?�
I nodded.� �I said if it was OK with you, and with Bret, if he�s gonna be there, that it�s OK with me.�
Botilda looked like she wanted to kick Jeness�s naked ass, but finally she shook her head.� �I don�t know why, but fine.� Jeness, you can have lunch with us, unless Bret says no.� And that only counts if he�s going to be there.�
�Thanks, Botilda,� Jeness said in her normal voice.� But then she turned to me.� �And thank you, Anzu.�� It was the timid child voice again.� Then she was off, to whatever class she was going to almost certainly be late for.
Botilda and I just looked at each other a while, until I heard my name and realized I was getting Reasonable Requests.� I granted them of course, letting one boy could finger me while another fondled my tits.
I noticed the look on Botilda�s face.� Tuesday, seeing me get touched on, she�d looked like she wanted to cry.� Now she looked very satisfied with what was going on.
The warning bell rang, so I scurried off to English.� I was almost assaulted by Cynthia, who I thought was going to knock me down in her eagerness to get to me.
�Did you hear!?!� she shrieked, �Program kids get to be naked forever!�
I felt cold for a moment, until I realized she was just talking about the thing that had been passed yesterday.
�We GET to be naked,� I pointed out to her, �We don�t HAVE to be naked once our week is over.�
She blinked a couple of times.� �But wouldn�t you want to?� she asked, as if it was unbelievable that a teenaged girl wouldn�t be nude in public every chance she got.� �You�d never have to wear clothes again, except in school.�
�Huh?� I asked, �What do you mean, �except in school?�� I thought it would be school most of all.�
�Oh no,� she assured me, �letting former Program kids go to school naked would dilute the experience and make it too ordinary.� Having hundreds of naked teenagers running around would make the participant feel less special.� The Program kid has to be singled out and made conspicuous by her nudity.�
I wondered (and not for the first time) just how many of these rules really were for my benefit, and how many were because the Program was probably dreamed up by a bunch of full-on perves who got off on embarrassing teens beyond belief.� Oh no, we couldn�t let the participant feel like she maybe fit in a little.
I walked into English before the final bell.� I was still hot from what had happened to me outside Homeroom.� I knew I was going to be asking for relief.� Mr. Scott took one look at me and started grinning like a fiend.
Well, why not him?� I was going to be asking for a volunteer, and was my English teacher any worse a choice than any other guy in class?� Indeed, he was a better choice than some.
�Anzu,� he almost purred, �do you need relief?� You could seek it before or after calling the role.�
�Yes I do need it,� I confirmed, �but I want a volunteer.� A male volunteer, somewhat older than myself.�
A few guys didn�t get what I was going for with that, and raised their hands.� I was glad to see that Mr. Scott did understand, and was raising his hand as well.
I made my eyes very wide and raised my brows as I asked, �Mr. Scott, you?� Oh my.�
�A good teacher is always willing to see to his students� needs,� he grinned, leading me to his desk.
I batted my eyes and lowered my gaze.� �Well, if you really don�t mind, I� I guess it�s OK with me.�
OK, so my bashful schoolgirl act wasn�t going to fool anybody.� It was still fun.
�How do you want it?�
Well, I�d been asked that before, and already had an answer ready.� �As long as it leaves me my technical virginity, do what you like.�
In fact, I think those are the exact words I used yesterday, with Farjahd.� I�ll have to check yesterday�s journal and see for sure.
I did feel a bit wicked, of course.� I mean, I was getting nibbled on and fingered by my English teacher, for Pete squeaks!� But I have to say, he�s pretty good.� The experience that comes with age?� Was thirty-five enough age to count?� The erotic charge running up my body told me that it is, and I came on his thumb while he gently bit one nipple and pulled the other.� As worked up as I was from the hall, it didn�t take long.
But he didn�t stop!� He just kept going, and before long I was on my way up the mountain again.� In truth, he hadn�t let me get very far down the slope.� In less time than I would have thought, I was coming again.
And he still didn�t stop!� Nope, he just kept on keepin� on, lips and tongue and teeth and a thumb up inside of me and a finger rubbing my clit and more fingers on whichever nip he didn�t have his mouth on.� He soon managed to bring me off a third time.
Finally, he stepped away, grinning like a cat with a mouth full of feathers.
�Four minutes and fifty-three seconds!� a male voice shouted from somewhere, and there was laughter.� I ginned myself.� Not bad, Anzu old girl!� Of course, I hadn�t really gotten off three times in four minutes and fifty-three seconds.� There was all the touching and such in the hall, before Homeroom, and then there was stuff in the hall after Homeroom.� So with nearly two hours of �foreplay,� finishing me off in four minutes and fifty-three seconds wasn�t so strange.
�Thank you,� I told him, and went back to my towel.� Just before I sat down, though, I had a sudden thought.
�Mr. Scott, do YOU need relief?�
He smiled.� �Sure, but I have to teach this class.� Of course,� he added, �if you�re willing to stay around until the warning bell, we could manage something.�
�I�ll take it under consideration,� and I winked.
�And I thank you for it,� he winked back.� �Now, class, when I asked Anzu �how do you want it,� she gave an interesting answer.� I believe her exact words were: �As long as it leaves me my technical virginity, do what you like.�� Let�s diagram that sentence, and then try substituting some synonyms for some of the words and see if we have preserved the meaning.�
Diagramming the sentence took no real time at all; we�d all been diagramming sentences since at least middle school.� It was the synonym substitution that got interesting.
�Provided that it preserves me my official chastity, act as you will.�
�Allowing that my nominal maidenhood is maintained, suit yourself.�
�Given that you deprive me not of my innocence, do whatever you please.�
�Anything but fucking�s OK.�
And so on.� Then we diagramed each of those.� Finally, we discussed whether or not each sentence preserved both the meaning and the feel of the original.� Zeyed pointed out that while �anything but fucking�s OK� carries exactly the same information about what is or is not allowed, it fails to convey that the speaker is a virgin.� Then we talked about how a sentence can say things beyond the obvious, or how the obvious can be subtly stated.� Finally, I was asked which new sentence I liked best.
�Well actually,� I started, rather embarrassed at the whole proceeding, �I thought my original sentence was just fine.� I don�t know, though; I might have to use �deprive me not of my innocence� later today.�
When class ended I made a point of going straight to Mr. Scott�s desk.
�Anything I can do for you?� he asked once the rest had left.
�The question is: what can I do for you?�
�Or perhaps the question is: what WILL you do for me?�
I grinned huge.� �Anything but fucking�s OK.� Oh, and I�m a virgin.�
He laughed at that, but then got serious.� �I think,� he suggested, �that you should consider the implications of the words �anything but� before we go any further.�
I was a bit startled by that, but recovered almost instantly.� �Anything that doesn�t involve putting your penis inside either of my lower openings,� I amended.� �And if you�re thinking of oral sex, well, I did that for the first time yesterday, so if you don�t mind a beginner, then drop �em and I�ll see what I can do for you.�
His face lit up and his pants hit the floor.� I dropped to my knees and started licking.� Realizing that we were short of time, I started in with the same sort of sucking/jacking technique I had used on Bret yesterday.� I bobbed my head in short, fast strokes and took him in a bit deeper a few times before switching back.� And all the time, I couldn�t believe I was doing this.
There was nothing in the Program that required me to blow my English teacher.� This was more than could be required even by �making use� of a Program participant.� If Mr. Scott had ordered me to suck his cock, I not only could have refused, I could have reported him and he would likely have been fired.� The only way for him to get his prick in my mouth all nice and legal was for me, during my Program week, to offer him a blow job without any pressure or prodding.
Which of course is exactly what I had done.� But why?� I honestly don�t know, except that, well, doing my English teacher was sort of a feather in my cap (not that I was wearing a cap).
Mr. Scott groaned, and I knew he was close.� I squeezed his ass with one hand and jacked him faster with the other.� A louder groan and I felt butt muscles clench.
�Anzu, Anzu I�m� going to��
He started to pull away, but I slapped his ass with my left hand and then whipped that same hand over my head in an �A-OK� sign.� He didn�t pull away after that, but instead tangled the fingers of one hand in my hair as he started pumping his cock in and out of my mouth.� Like he was fucking me, I realized.� Wow.
When he came, it was a lot.� More than Bret.� Because of his age?� And it had a slightly bitter taste, not bad really, but noticeable.� I wondered if that, too, might be because he was thirty-five.� I know that in your day that was considered the beginning of middle-age.� Today we consider forty to forty-five the beginning of middle-age.
I swallowed as best I could, though some leaked out and dribbled down my chin, stringing down unto my right tit.� I stood up and batted my eyes at him.
�That was cool,� I told him.� �I�d love to stay and bask in the afterglow, but I�ve got SMA and I don�t dare be late.� We�re going out in the vacuum.�
�On your way, then,� he smiled, pulling up his underwear and pants.� �And thank you.� That was marvelous.�
I turned around to find a half-dozen people staring at me!� They applauded and I took a quick bow, walking out into the hall as fast as I dared.� I hadn�t gone three steps away when the warning bell rang, and I knew it was going to be close.� I got a couple of Reasonable Requests along the way, but I just barked out, �sorry, late,� and didn�t even slow down.
I walked into Mr. Glazer�s classroom a whopping two seconds before the final bell.� He glared at me, but then addressed the class.
�If we�re all quite ready,� he almost snarled, �let�s all go catch the floater and get out there.� And Anzu,� his eyes seemed to hit me with a physical force, �you are cutting it way too close.� You�re technically on time, so you�re not losing any points, but I hope after your Program week is over you won�t be so impunctual.�
�Right,� I nodded, �and before you ask: no, I don�t need relief.� Let�s go.�
On the way to the floater, I thought a bit more about what I�d done with Mr. Scott.� He was cute enough, for a teacher, but I�m not some Lolita who pants after older men.� Why did I do it?� Was it just because I could?� Because it was, in fact, a feather in my cap?� A feather in my cap� a notch in my belt?
Was I doing with Mr. Scott what Kevin wanted to do with me?� Well, it wasn�t exactly the same.� I hadn�t bragged to all my friends that I was going to do it.� It was just something I knew he�d like, it seemed exciting, and so I did it.� I mean hell, it�s the Program, right?� I�m supposed to do things I�d never do before.
We walked to the end of the hall, boarded the elevator, and stepped out in the station.� The floater station was a small basement, about the size of a classroom, underneath the school.� Several buildings have floater stations, and the floaters themselves are maglev vehicles which run along the outside of the habitat, in the vacuum.� The floater carriage itself was already there (Mr. Glazer had arranged for this), and we stepped aboard.� It looks sort of like a long platform on tiny wheels, with seats on top of the platform.� We simply stepped onto the platform, sat down, and waited for it to retract into the body of the floater.� Once it had, the floater�s airlock closed, the station�s airlock closed, and the floater started acceleration.� The main body of the thing had never left vacuum, and thus was untroubled by wind resistance.
Remember Coriolis effect, from the bicycle ride?� Well the effect was much stronger now, because we were gaining altitude much more quickly.� However, the engineers who built the system knew that, and the floater tilted appropriately.� We wouldn�t�ve even known if we hadn�t read about it.
The distance travelled was short, just over fifteen hundred metres (just shy of a mile, for those still using that old system), and we made the trip in just under one minute.� Exiting took almost another minute.� Overall, from the ringing of that last bell to exiting the floater at the axis station had taken less than five minutes.� Putting our suits on would take longer.
This was interesting for me, because all the other students had to take off their shoes, any dangly jewelry, or bulky items they might be wearing before they could put the suit on.� I just put it on over my skin.� It was also the first time I�d worn anything that really covered me since Monday morning.
It was weird.� I couldn�t feel the air on my skin; I felt material against me everywhere.� The truth is, I�ve never enjoyed wearing space suits, but this was different even than that.� It just seemed strange to be covering myself up.
Of course it was utterly necessary.� Program or no Program, the human body just isn�t made to survive in vacuum.� It was either wear the suit or skip class, and I wasn�t about to do that, what with Mr. Glazer already half-ticked with me.� Besides, we were going to be laying down sapphire, and I didn�t want to miss that.
All suited up, we waited while the pumps emptied the airlock of air, and then the door swung open and we drifted out into space.� Using the thrusters on our suits, we all followed Mr. Glazer as he took us about five hundred metres from Mendocino to where our project awaited us.� Mendocino itself filled my view on one side, while Earth was visible a bit to the sunward side and the Moon was behind me.� In the distance, I could see other habitats: Shunyi, looking about as big around as a basketball would from a metre away, but obviously much further than that.� And there was Perth, so small in the distance I could block it from sight with my gloved thumb, held at arm�s length.� In another direction I could just make out Monrovia, so tiny I wouldn�t�ve known it was a habitat if it hadn�t been there my whole life.� There were others, hard to tell from a bright star.� The real stars were all around, except where blocked by Earth, Moon, sun, Mendocino Island or one of the other habitats.
As many times as I�ve seen this view since Mom first showed it to me, when I was seven years old, it still takes my breath away.� There�s just no way to convey the sheer BIGNESS of it all.� If you imagine yourself far out to sea, with nothing but the ocean and sky as far as can been seen, that doesn�t even begin to suggest the grand celestial enormity of Space.
There wasn�t much time to admire the view, though, because we�d already taken twelve minutes to get here, and it would take another twelve when we were done.� That gave us just sixteen minutes for actual practice, and there were twenty of us.� We already knew the basics as Mr. Glazer taught us the finer points of sapphire deposition.
Sapphire is a wonderful material to make stuff out of.� It has a higher tensile strength than most forms of steel, is harder than any other naturally occurring mineral except diamond, has a very high melting point, won�t burn (it�s already oxidized), and is less brittle than glass or diamond.
It�s transparent but easily colored.� Natural gem sapphires are blue because they contain trace amounts of titanium and iron.� Rubies are red because they contain trace amounts of chromium, but really ruby is just red sapphire.� Other trace elements can produce green, purple, yellow, and even black.� A natural pinkish orange gem sapphire is called a padparadscha and is the most expensive type of all, but nobody seems able to agree exactly where the line is between �padparadscha� and �not a padparadscha.�� I wouldn�t buy one myself; too much chance of paying a high price now only to be told in a few years that my precious padparadscha is a mere �fancy colored sapphire.�� I think padparadschas are beautiful, but my favorite thing about the padparadscha is its name; it�s just fun to say: padparadscha, padparadscha, padparadscha.
To make stuff out of sapphire isn�t the easiest thing.� The depositing machines used mirrors to concentrate solar heat onto the feed chambers, where aluminum was heated to a temperature so high that it didn�t just melt, it boiled into a fine vapor.� This vapor is sprayed onto the substrate (tin is popular for substrates) in layers less than a thousandth of a millimetre thick, if one is building up plate aluminum.� But for sapphire, oxygen has to be introduced into the equation.� We had tanks of liquid oxygen attached to our depositors; these were set to add gaseous oxygen to the stream of aluminum vapor.� Sapphire is a form of the mineral corundum, or crystalline Al2O3, and getting it to deposit on the substrate in that form isn�t just a matter of mixing the two elements together.� It has to be done in just the right proportions, and it has to be deposited on the substrate within a certain range of temperatures, or else you either don�t get sapphire, or you get sapphire which is cracked and unsuitable for making anything of value.
Since certain must-not-fail items (such as habitat pressure shells) are made of sapphire or mostly sapphire, it was important to get it right.� Also, sapphire has become a popular material for craftsmanship types, and no matter what material you�re working in, you have to know what you�re doing if you want your hand-crafted whatever to be beautiful.
So now we were simply laying it down in flat stripes, something that would be automated in a real construction site.� But the automated machinery has human supervisors, and a supervisor who�s laid down a little Al2O3 in his day will get the job over one who hasn�t.� We�d done plenty of book learning in class, and once every two weeks we�d head out here into the vacuum to play with the grown-up�s toys.
I shouldn�t call the depositor a toy, though.� It�s potentially dangerous.� Think of the band saw in a woodshop class: fine if you use it right; deadly if you�re an idiot.� Fortunately, none of us are idiots, so we lay down micron after micron of good sapphire, all of us, over and over, until we�d built up nearly half a millimetre.
But then our time was up, and we headed back to Mendocino.� As much as I don�t like wearing a space suit, I do like to see my home from outside sometimes.� Of course from outside you don�t really see the pressure shell; you see the radiation shield.� But since that surrounds the habitat and has the same overall shape, it�s still pretty impressive.� That shield really contributes to the feeling of security we feel living in our Island.
I�ll admit that I sometimes feel a bit nervous, out in the vacuum, with nothing but this thin suit between me and the harsh environment of Space.� But there�s no way not to feel protected inside Mendocino.� The pressure hull is up to ten centimetres thick of laminated sapphire and that radiation shield is two and three-quarter metres thick of reinforced stone.� Mendocino could shrug off a beating that would sink a battleship.
Of course the first habitats weren�t made of anything as modern as laminated sapphire.� Nope, they were made of ordinary old aluminum, steel, glass, that sort of thing.� In fact, there isn�t one material needed for the Breakout into Space that doesn�t already exist in the time of the people reading this.� When we made the move to sapphire it wasn�t because the older materials weren�t good enough, it was because the new materials were even better, and more economical.
Just before we glided into the airlock, we could see how the shield is separated from the pressure hull by three metres, and does not rotate like the pressure hull does.� The shield is much, much more massive than the habitat itself, and rotating it at the same one RPM of the pressure shell would require a much, much stronger structure.� It doesn�t have to rotate to do its job.
Of course, some of the early shields did rotate, but slowly, and in the opposite direction of the rest of the habitat.� This is because, as I pointed out Sunday, our Bernal Sphere isn�t exactly a sphere.� It�s a little bit longer than it is wide, so it�s actually a sort of stubby cylinder.� A cylinder, even a stubby one, tends to tumble end-over-end rather than rotate along its long axis.� If you start it rotating along its long axis, it tends to shift to that end-over-end rotation instead.� This would be very bad, because it would fling everything away from the equator and towards the poles, wrecking the village, killing all the people, and possibly ripping the habitat itself to shreds.
For obvious reasons, we like to avoid that kind of thing.
One way to avoid that kind of thing is to make the habitat wider than it is long� or shorter than it is wide, for that matter.� This way, the shorter axis is just where you want it.
Another way is to use bearings to connect the habitat to something of the same size and mass and then to rotate both objects in opposite directions.� This causes the forces involved to cancel out.� The obvious choice for �something of the same size and mass� would be another habitat, and this is in fact exactly what is done in the Island Three types, which consist of two cylinders, and is going to be used in the Island Four currently under construction.
You could attach your habitat to something smaller and lighter, and rotate that something more quickly (again, in the opposite direction) than the habitat itself.� I understand some of the early orbital hotels used this method, but none of the full-sized Islands do.
Of course, this suggests that you could also attach the habitat to something larger and more massive, and rotate that something more slowly.� Since habitats of Island One and Two sizes have to have that big fat massive shield anyway, the shield is the obvious candidate.� And indeed, that�s what most Bernal Spheres of Island One and Two size do� or rather did, until Perth, I2 B100.
What we do now, since we are working with laminated sapphire and thus have a stronger structure, is that we just add a lot of extra mass right at the equator.� The sea and beaches not only look pretty and give us a more fun environment to live in, they stabilize the whole little world.
Inside the airlock, we peeled out of our space suits.� I chuckled at Leilani, who yelped as her T-shirt hiked up, briefly exposing a tiny part of her pink, lacy bra.� Of course, I had nothing to hike up, and so was naked as an egg as soon as I desuited.� What a silly thing to yelp about.� Hey Leilani, try showing everybody your nipples sometime. �Try letting strangers play with your va-jay-jay.� Then you�ll have something to yelp about.
But then, I�d�ve probably done the same thing, last week.� It wasn�t Lelani�s fault that she hadn�t been through the Program.� Her week would come, and it wasn�t right for me to laugh at her before it did.� Glad I only chuckled.
Back into the floater and back to the school.� Up the elevator and out into the hall, and as usual, Mr. Glazer set us free nearly a minute before the bell rang for class to be dismissed.
Which meant more time for me to grant some Reasonable Requests.� I was being groped, fondled, stroked and carressed all over the place, because by this time I was granting everything.
Well, almost everything.� I wasn�t letting anybody stick a penis into any part of me, and there were Requests for it.� I was thinking, though�
But no.� That wasn�t how I wanted my virginity to end.� Not as a Program thing, in front of an audience, as a Reasonable Request to whoever happened to ask first.� Forgive me if I want a little romance.� Not a lot, but some.
But I was thinking that maybe I�d like to go a little wild Friday.� My last Program day in school, and my birthday too.� Stop having to add anything to �whatever you like.�� But how, if Bret was going to do me after pizza tomorrow?
I�d think of something, but not right now.� Not while I couldn�t think straight, not with a mouth on each nip and one between my legs.� Not with hands rubbing my legs, my tummy, my ass.
Suddenly I felt a pair of hands grab that ass and gently spread the cheeks.� I was about to object when I heard a male voice ask, �Can I lick you right here?� and I felt his finger tap my little back hole.
Lick my asshole?� Eeewww!!
Then again, why not?� I keep it clean.� Always have, and now that I was running around naked, I was even more sure to.� It was lickable-clean, I didn�t doubt.
�Sure thing,� I told whoever it was, and wondered again why I was allowing so much.� Ahhhhhh��� Because it felt so good, that�s why.� And because I could.
I came.� Well, really, with hands all over me and a mouth on each nip, a mouth on my pussy, and my butt-hole getting licked, how was I not going to cum?� I came, I came big, and I didn�t bother trying to hide it, though I didn�t cry out� much.
The warning bell rang, and I jumped up, a bit unsteady I�ll admit.
�Thanks, guys,� I shouted, �That was great!�� And I meant it.
I half-staggered into biology, barely remembering not to whistle, hum, or in any other way draw attention to myself.� There wasn�t anything I could do about the sweat and the juice running down my thigh, but oh well.
The Warlord glared at me as I took my seat at the front of the class.� As soon as the final bell rang, he suddenly smiled and seemed cheerful.
�Do you need relief, Miss James?�
�Nope, I�m fine, thanks.�� So he was still calling me �Miss James.�� I wondered if he knew what we called him.
He ignored me for the rest of the class.� I was going to track down some of the other Programs kids I�d seen in Biology, and ask if their grades dipped during their Program week.� Sorry, folks, but I just didn�t trust John Carter of Mars.
Out of Biology and off to lunch.� Of course I got some Reasonable Requests, and of course I granted them.� The truth is, I LIKE getting petted and fondled.� I always have, of course; just ask Botilda.� I didn�t want it from anybody else because, as good as it might feel, it was just too embarrassing.� Well, the Program had fixed that, hadn�t it?
But then I saw something that made me forget the hands on me.� It was Bret, and he was headed for lunch too.
�Sorry guys,� I told the two complete strangers who were playing with my naked body, �gotta run.�
I didn�t quite run, but I walked pretty fast.� He saw me and waited for me.
�What�s up, Program girl?� he asked, patting my butt without even asking.
�Hey, Bret,� I started, not sure how to say this, �Hey, you know how I said that tomorrow, I might ask, um, well��
�You might ask me to pop you?�� He looked a little sad, and I suddenly realized he thought I was there to say �forget it� or something like that.
�Yeah,� I told him, �tomorrow, after pizza.� Well, could we do it today?�
His hand dropped off my ass and his jaw dropped.� But then he grinned, even chuckled a bit.
�I understand,� he assured me, �You want to do some non-virginal stuff tomorrow at school, but you don�t want your actual first time, your actual virgin-no-more event, to be in front of a crowd or with a stranger.�
It was my own jaw�s turn to drop.� �How the hell did you know that?�
Again he chuckled.� �I�ve been through the Program too, don�t forget.�� He put his arm around my shoulder, pulled me in close to him, and almost whispered.� �So where do you want to do this, and when?� You have veegeewushu after school, and not a lot of time after that.�
�That�s true,� I admitted, �I might have half an hour between veegeewushu and dinner, and then Steve will be over.� Not a lot of time to find a hideaway.�
�You know,� he suggested, �the best place would be in your bedroom, right after veegeewushu.� If you think your parents wouldn�t freak.� Oh, and who�s Steve?� He some sort of backup plan, in case I said no?�
I laughed right out loud at that.� �I�m sure he�d like to, but since I�m not into twelve-year-olds��� I saw his eyes go wide.� �He�s a neighbor kid; I�m tutoring him in Western Civ.�
�Ah yes,� Bret nodded, �History is your best subject.�
I wondered how he knew that, but by now we were in the cafeteria.� Botilda was already there.� She saw us immediately and started making abrupt, even jerky movements, pointing to me and then to the seat next to her.
Like I was going to sit anywhere else.� So I did sit next to her, and Bret on the other side of me.� Botilda didn�t look very happy.
�What�s wrong, �Tilda?� I asked, but barely got the words out of my mouth when she lit into me.
�What�s wrong!?!� What�s wrong with YOU?� I read that pamphlet, Anzu James, and you do NOT have to blow your Goddamned English teacher!�
�Actually, I think God likes him just fine.�
�Don�t you get theological with me!� she thundered, sounding almost like an angry deity herself, �What did he say to make you do that?� You know you can report him for that!�
I rolled my eyes.� �He didn�t �make� me do anything, �Tilda.� There�s nothing to report him for.� If you�ll cut your thrusters a bit, I�ll tell you exactly how it happened, OK?�
�I�m waiting.�
�OK look,� I started, �You saw how I was getting it from guys after Homeroom.� Well by the time I got to English I needed relief.� So I asked for volunteers.� He was one of them, so��
�So you sucked his dick!?!� How does that give YOU relief?!�
�A little louder, Botilda; I don�t think they heard you on Earth.�� I took a deep breath, and so did she.� �No, I didn�t suck his dick��
�YES YOU DID!!�
�If you don�t stop bellowing at me I�m gonna go eat somewhere else!�
A couple more deep breaths, for both of us.
�OK, sorry,� Botilda said in a normal voice.� �I guess you mean you didn�t suck his dick just yet.�
�Right,� I nodded, and then explained in detail how it happened.
�He accepted my offer and THEN I sucked his dick.�
Botilda just stared at me.� I glanced at Bret, who was smiling.� Finally, Botilda seemed to pull herself together.
�So it was your idea?�
�It was my idea.�
�But why, F.L.?�
I shrugged.� �I don�t know, really.� Because I can, because it was exciting, because I was horny.� If I wasn�t still a virgin and wanting to give that to Bret here,� I jerked my thumb at him, �I�d�ve probably fucked him.�
She slowly shook her head and sighed.� �They should rename it the �Frankenstein in School Program,� because it creates monsters.�
�Yeah, well get used to it for one more day,� I said, and I know I sounded a bit harsh, �because I plan to be all Girl Who tomorrow; I�m planning to go Ehawee on this school.�
�Anzu, I think you need to�� she stopped abruptly.� �Look, here comes Jeness, and I don�t want to talk about this in front of her.�
�Hey, Anzu, everybody,� she greeted us, �I wasn�t sure where you were sitting.� My fault, I should�ve asked.�
She looked me in the eyes for almost a full second.� �Are you sure it�s OK?�� Again, the child-like voice.� It was creeping me out is what it was doing.
�It�s fine,� I assured her.
What with the pre-lunch conversation with Bret, the argument with Botilda, and the little exchange with Jeness, it was too late to order most items, so I just punched in a couple of peanut butter and raspberry jam on wheat bread sandwiches.� I got a bit of apple juice to wash it down.� Ah well, I usually get PB&J once ever week or two anyway.
We just made small talk, with Jeness hardly saying a word, and always casting her eyes down when she did.� Did she really want to be friends?� Did I warp her psyche or something?� The whole thing was getting to me.
Lunch over, time for Homeroom!� And just as important, time to get away from Jeness.� She�d already mentioned my birthday, and had asked what I had planned.� I did not want Jeness around for any birthday celebrations, but at the same time I didn�t have the heart to be mean to her.� How can you be a bitch to a bashful child, which is what she was still acting like?
I got some RR�s, of course.� And really, I think it�s OK to use the two R�s instead of writing out Reasonable Request each time.� Whatever you call them, they seem to get bolder near the end of the week, which makes sense, because I was willing to do a lot more than I was Tuesday.
As an example, I was not only willing but happy to let Elijah finger me.� Fingering was getting to be just a fun part of life by now.� When Miyuki wanted to suck a nipple, I told her to go for it.� Was I embarrassed?� Sure, a little.� But only one person managed to surprise me.
�Anzu,� Botilda asked, �could I kiss you?�
I blinked several times, too shocked to say anything.� But then I realized that she meant it.
�Absolutely,� I purred, and as Miyuki and Elijah kept going on me, I put one arm around Botilda�s waist and the other behind her neck, and kissed her in the hall of Gerard O�Neill High School.
It was a soft kiss, and it wasn�t a long one.� There was barely any tongue.� But it was a nice, sweet kiss, and I was glad for it.� For one thing, it meant she wasn�t mad at me.
The warning bell went off, and I slipped into class and took my seat at the front.� I was getting pink in the ovaries again, but Ms. Dunlavy had me take the roll, and had me announce any birthdays for today or Friday, and of course I had a birthday Friday, so I announced it.� There weren�t any others this week.
When all of that was done, the teacher asked me a question I was very familiar with: �Anzu, do you need relief?�
�Yes,� I answered, �and I�d like a volunteer.�
I wasn�t surprised when Bret raised his hand, and I wasn�t surprised to see that Miyuki, Po Sin, Elijah and Okapi raised their hands.� So did Farjhad, David, Gwedon, and Giselle.� But again, one person managed to surprise me, and again it was Botilda.� She clearly raised her hand, but then lowered it almost immediately.� She looked at me, shrugged her shoulders, and barely shook her head.� I nodded just as slightly.
�Ms. Dunlavy,� I asked, �can I select more than one volunteer?�� I knew the answer, of course.� Kachina had selected three volunteers on her last day.
�Yes,� Ms. Dunlavy granted, �as long as they can finish you off in the five minutes allowed.�
�Cool.� Then I pick Giselle, Okapi, Po Sin and David.� They haven�t had a chance at me all week, and they�ve volunteered every day.�
It was Okapi who spoke for the group.� �What can we do?� he asked.
�Given that,� and I started to giggle.� I couldn�t help it at first, but soon managed to regain control.
�Given that you deprive me not of my innocence, do whatever you please.�
�Ah, well,� David chuckled, �we wouldn�t want to deprive you of your innocence.�
�I would,� Giselle cooed.� �But I think somebody beat me to it, and someone will.�
Whatever that was supposed to mean.
�Go ahead and get on all fours,� Po Sin suggested as he rubbed the bulge in his pants.
�If you think you�re athletic enough, midfielder martial artist,� Okapi whispered in my ear, �do a back-bend and hold it �til we�re done.�
I wasn�t sure about that.� I mean, I was sure I could hold a back-bend for three minutes, but five was pushing it, and while coming?� Then again, after all that action in the hall and the way I was feeling, it wasn�t going to take five minutes.� I don�t weigh that much, even in full-G, so if I did fall down it wasn�t like I was going to wipe us all out.
I planted my feet wide apart, raised my hands over my head and bent over backwards, placing my hands on the floor and holding my body in an arch, tits pointed up and open vagina pointed at my classmates.� I felt the lips actually part and the cool air on my swollen clit.
It reminded me of what the Warlord had done to me Monday.� Hard to believe it had freaked me out so much to have a part of my body looked at.� I mean, sure, the egg-laying and gender-blending were awful, but what was so bad about people seeing my pussy?� If somebody wanted to look at my hair or my legs, it made me feel good.� So why should my cunny be any different, and certainly there was no reason to be ashamed of my breasts.� Let them look all they wanted.
This line of thought didn�t last for long, though, because Giselle got underneath of me and, raising her head, began to lick that same pussy everybody was looking at.� I realized that the way she was doing it, she hardly blocked the view at all.� In fact, they could probably see her tongue making contact.� Cool.
Okapi and David each started in on a nipple, and each played with the respective tit.� Po Sin stood still for a while, not knowing what to do.� Considering that he was standing in front of my face, all he had to do was drop his drawers and get on his knees and I could have blown him.� But I wasn�t ready to start blowing everybody who I thought might like it, and besides, this was about getting me off.� Selfish, maybe, but that�s what this was about.
Po Sin didn�t drop drawers; he moved over by my feet and knelt beside me.� I couldn�t see what he was doing, but suddenly I felt his tongue licking me right on the clit.� Giselle was licking up and down my slit, but couldn�t quite make the clit.� Po Sin did.
But then Giselle upped things a bit.� Perhaps she was remembering how much Farjahd had gotten me off with some double-finger action, or maybe she just likes ass.� Whatever the reason, she slipped a finger into my pussy, pumped twice, pulled it back out and whoop! up my ass.� As wet as that finger now was it slipped right in.� She never stopped licking.
I guess Po Sin could see her do it, because he, too, kept on licking as he slipped first one and then another finger into my double-licked pussy.
�Wouldn�t mind sliding into that myself,� I heard Bret say.
It was getting hard to hold the back-bend, and not just because of fatigue.� I started shaking, and the only reason I didn�t cum right that second was because I had to concentrate, well, try to concentrate, on keeping my arms and legs steady and not falling on top of Giselle.
That�s when Po Sin started on the G-spot.� Thump, thump, thump inside my pussy; suck, suck, suck on both nipples; pump, pump, pump up my ass; and lick lick lick lick lick lick on my dripping pussy.� Did I cum?� What do you think?
Yes, and hard.� I hissed air in and out through my gritted teeth so hard I was spitting a little, my legs trembled and my arms felt like so much Jell-O.� I don�t know how I managed to keep it up (ha ha), but somehow I did.
They kept going.� They seemed to speed up, but I couldn�t be sure.� I was gasping, trying to hold that back-bend, and they were doing everything they could to make me cum again before the five minutes were up.
They succeeded.� My body seemed to explode, my vision dimmed, and I somehow knew that my body was collapsing.� I could barely feel my limbs at all.
�AAAHHHYYYAAAHHH!!!!!�
I forced my body back into an arch, and wasn�t even aware that I was screaming.� I wasn�t aware of much of anything, except that I was still in the arch.� There was a roaring in my ears and my eyes were closed.
Gradually, I noticed that the hands, the lips, the tongues were gone.� I had stopped screaming, and as I opened my eyes I heard clapping and whistles.� A voice was calling my name, over and over.
�Anzu!� Anzu!�
Ms. Dunlavy?
�Anzu, your five minutes are over.� Your relief period is over.� Anzu!�
Suddenly my mind cleared and I understood what she was telling me.� I had stayed in that back-bend the full five minutes.� I could get down now!
With the realization I simply collapsed.� I lay on the cold tile and noticed it was wet.� My own sweat.
Botilda and Bret were there fussing over me.� I saw fear in their eyes.
�I�m� oh� kay�� I managed to gasp out.
�You don�t look OK,� Bret muttered.
�I think she needs the nurse,� Botilda called out to Ms. Dunlavy.
�No.� I�m�� I took a couple of deep breaths.� �I�m fine.� Just� tired.� Arms sore.�
I stood up, though my legs threatened to give out.� I tried not to show it and walked a bit unsteadily to my chair.� I straightened the towel and sat gently down, instead of plopping like my body wanted to.� I didn�t have to force a smile to my face, though.� That was very real.
�Thanks for the relief,� I called out to the worried-looking quartet.
The rest of the class was uneventful, except for Botilda saying we needed to talk on the way to veegeewushu.� I thought I knew what about, and I wasn�t looking forward to it.
The bell rang and it was back into the hall.� I could still feel it in my legs.� Why did I have to be so stubborn about things like this?� I thought it was only guys who got so macho they hurt themselves.
�Hey F.L.�� It was Botilda.� �You sure you�re OK?�
�Yeah,� I reassured her, �It�s just my arms and legs are a bit sore.� I�ll be fine.�
I granted a few RR�s, but only simple ones.� I wasn�t up to anything elaborate just yet.� Fortunately, all of my classmates wanted to rub my arms, my shoulders, my legs.� They wanted to help me, and not just cop feels.� It felt real good, not in a sexual way, but just good.
But then the warning bell rang, and it was off to Pre-Calc.� Did I need relief?� Um, no.� Could I work the problem on the board?� Just barely, and only after Ms. Ou Yang gave up and corrected one of my errors for me.� Well, I was doing about as well as I ever do at this subject.� Otherwise, class uneventful.
By the time that class was over and I was back in the hall, I was back to granting RR�s in my regular, almost-anything-goes fashion.� I was actually beginning to feel a little bit heated up again when History started.� It was pretty much the same as Pre-Calc, except there was no problem on the board and I turned in yesterday�s journal.
Time for final Homeroom and my legs were still a bit sore, my arms were a bit worse, but I wasn�t wobbly.� Yeah, I got felt up in the hall, but I didn�t need relief in class, and mostly we just talked.
I talked to Bret a little away from the others.
�I think it would be best,� I told him, �if you met me at Botilda�s, right after veegeewushu, and we walk to my place from there.� That way, my parents don�t see you until they see me, and I can introduce you.� And have some clothes on!�
�Sounds like a plan,� he agreed, �except I�m not sure how they�re going to like this whole idea.�
�It�ll be fine,� I assured him.� �They admire confidence and they want respect.� As long as we show both, they�ll trust my judgment.�
With that settled, we rejoined the small talk Homeroom is known for.� The rest of the class was uneventful.
The final bell rang, and school was over for Thursday.
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