Naked in School-Kevin and Denise
When I woke up, the first thing I felt when consciousness truly asserted itself was a enormous sense of relief. All that nonsense of being forced to do things that were repulsive and humiliating was over; now I could go to classes without being worried that a teacher would try to use my body as an education aid. Not that I had anything against displaying my body publicly, when I lived in Japan my family would go to the onsen where we would bathe nude in the hot spring with other families and everyone was comfortable being naked together.
No, the repulsiveness was the way the Program forced sexuality along with the nudity, and that combination set the stage to humiliate the subject if he or she exhibited any reluctance to be objectified—sexualized. But I was still disturbed that although I was personally free from further abuse, there were hundreds at my school, and many more elsewhere, who had yet to endure the “benefits” of the Program.
Well, enough wool-gathering. My body was yearning for exercise, and the last time I had a good run was a week ago. I dressed for a run, did my stretches, and then enjoyed an hour-long run down to the park I had found last week and along a trail there. I had to be back in time for my PT appointment and wondered how that would go. What would they find? Good news, I hoped.
The clinic was in a little group of professional offices near the med school. I walked into the office and could see, just past the waiting room, a little gym with all kinds of exercise machines, padded tables, and racks of oddly shaped objects; wonder what those things were (cushions to prop the body, I learned later). Soon I was called out of the waiting room by a really pretty lady, maybe in her thirties, whose name tag read Dr Sylvia McMatson. She led me to a small examination room.
“Kevin, I’m Dr McMatson and I’ll be doing your therapy. I specialize in injuries of the groin and that’s why Dr Worthington referred you here.”
“I didn’t know doctors also did PT.”
“It’s a doctor of physical therapy, but I also have a PhD in anatomy. I like working with people so I went into PT.”
“Oh, should I call you double-Dr McMatson then?” I joked.
“That’s not very original. My husband calls me that every time he says I get too uppity,” she laughed. “Kevin, before I start the exam, let me tell you what I’ll be doing because I don’t want you to be scared of some of the procedures. You know what acupuncture is?”
“Oh, yes; I’ve had martial arts training in the Far East where I grew up and I’ve had some acupuncture sessions to loosen my muscle tension and improve energy flow in my meridians.”
“That’s excellent, since from your referral, I think that your pudendal neuralgia might be both scarring and a tight muscle from a muscle spasm. I use acupuncture needles as part of the therapy for the muscle spasm as well as ultrasound and digital manipulation to reduce what we call neural tension.”
“How long do you think the PT will take?”
“Let’s see how you respond to the exam and we’ll take it from there. ok? I need you to take off your lower garments, you can keep your shirt on.”
She turned and began putting on latex gloves. Wow, right. I need to strip for this good-looking lady, and she’ll be handling my stuff, too. Hope I don’t get a hardon. Huh, she’s a mind-reader, too, judging by what she’s saying now.
“And Kevin, you know that I’ll be working on your perineum, it’s very likely that you’ll get an erection; guys usually do and it’s no big deal. In fact, I consider that a compliment,” she joked. “Ok, lay here on your back and put your feet in the stirrups.”
Hey, now I get first-hand experience with stirrups! Who’d I ask about that last week? This is so weird!
“Now you’ll get to see how we girls feel when we have our internal exams,” she remarked.
Damn! She really is a mind-reader.
“Now first, I’ll palpate your perineum. I’m looking for trigger points; these are areas in the muscle that can respond with a twitch or even pain when pressed. Let me know if you feel any pain with each press and tell me if the pain radiates—you know what I mean, right?”
“Yeah,” I grunted, because the pressure of her finger was causing my cock to swell. “OWWch! There! Wow, that really hurt!” My cock collapsed.
“Good, did it radiate?”
“Yeah, right down the top of my cock, sorry, penis, and a little to the thighs. Oww.”
“Down the penile suspensory ligament and along the transverse perineus muscle. There’s some nerve cross-talk going on and that could explain a lot of your penile pain. Let’s continue.”
She kept pressing but the only place where she found a strong response was that first one, and wow, did that set me off!
“Ok, Kevin, I need to really press there now. You’ll need to hold on. I felt an area of fascia tissue that didn’t move next to the trigger point. The nerve runs close by, the muscle around it is in spasm, and I think I felt the scar tissue. I need to move it around a little to free it up.”
She opened a little box and took a hot, damp cloth out of it, holding it over my crotch for a minute. Then she pushed her fingers into the skin of my crotch and moved them around in a little circle around that sore point. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth and the sweat poured out of me for the fifteen or twenty seconds she rubbed it.
“I think I felt a little give there now, but that muscle spasm is really tight. Let’s try to release the spasm.”
She got a tray filled with little paper tubes and some alcohol wipes and then changed her gloves.
“These are like little acupuncture needles. They’re the same gauge but only an inch long. I’m going to see if this helps relax the spasm.”
She swabbed the area and then I felt a tiny twinge as the needle sunk in. Suddenly there was a weird sensation, kind of a bouncing, it was making my cock stir again and I grunted.
“Kevin, all I’m doing is moving the needle up and down over the muscle to kind of get its attention so it lets go—ah, did you feel that?”
Wow. My groin felt like a rubber band had snapped. “Yeah. Oooh. Something happened.”
“Yep. Sure did.”
I guess she had removed the needle because now she was massaging the area pretty hard and I was tingling all over down there—and my cock was rigid now.
“I’m just getting your qi flowing again there. I felt the muscle spasm release and see that your body liked what it felt too,” she finished with a laugh. “Now let’s do that trigger point again and see if the nerve also liked it.”
She pressed against that area again and it still hurt a lot, but way less than before, and I told her that.
“That’s a good sign. That’s enough for this session. We need to do some work on mobilizing that scar tissue the next time. I’m giving you a page of exercises you’ll need to do to stretch the pelvic floor muscles, particularly those that attach to your legs. Do you know what the Kegel exercise is? Good. Do NOT do that. Your pelvic floor is tight enough as it is, you need those stretches to open it up. Finally, you should put a cold pack on your perineum when you get home—wrap the pack in a towel—for ten minutes an hour for the next three hours. The abuse I gave to that area will cause a little swelling. The extra blood flowing to the area is important but too much swelling is bad. Ok? See the receptionist for your follow-ups. You responded really well today so I think five more sessions starting Monday and then spaced about three days apart will work fine. Then at the last one we’ll evaluate you again.”
I left and as I walked out I felt the whole area tingling, as if it was waking up. It really felt strange and now I could feel the tightness of my muscles down there, and that reminded me that during my last year of taekwondo classes, I hadn’t been able to get the full leg extension that certain kicks needed. That made sense now. I need to get back to my training. Maybe I can check out Bob’s dojang later today.
~~~~
After icing my groin as instructed, I had a few hours before my date, so I went off to find the dojang. It was a fairly large facility in a strip mall not far from downtown. I entered the outer room, ringing a string of bells, and a voice called from further inside, “Enter.” I stepped through a door hung with beaded cords into a large room with mirrors on three walls and mats on an area of the floor. There was an elderly man in a white dobok standing before of a row of people similarly clad.
He turned and beckoned me closer. I slipped off my shoes and walked toward him, stopped, and bowed.
“Ah, would you be Kyosah nim Kevin, by chance?” he said in a rich voice.
“Sahyun nim, the honor is undeserved, sir. I am a humble sunbae of the Art.”
“Sahyun nim Bob has spoken to me regarding you. You have studied in the homeland with a renowned master, Kwanjang nim Park. I should want to see what you have learned from him, so you shall teach me and I shall perhaps learn more. So for that reason I have called you ‘teacher.’ Will you be favoring us by studying with us?”
“Yes, sir, I would like to.”
He bowed and I returned the gesture. Then he turned and clapped his hands.
“Students! Let me introduce Kyosah nim Kevin, who has studied in Korea for five years and has attained the third degree. He has already made his mark on our community by subduing two criminals who attempted to hold up a convenience store last week—yes, this is he,” he said as the group began to murmur. “I hope that I can convince Kyosah nim Kevin to share some of his learning with us all as he studies at our humble facility.”
I bowed to the group and they returned my bow.
“Kevin, for ordinary conversation in my dojang, we dispense with formalities unless we are teaching, so you may call me Kim; I’ve adopted my family name as my first name. Are you able to join us now? We’re just reviewing forms.”
“Yes, sir, that would be great. Let me get my doboc and duffle from the car.”
“There’s a locker room over there, son,” he pointed.
I dashed out and back and changed into the uniform. It felt funny; the last time I wore it was in April, back home in Korea. I tied on my adult dhee with its single bar. Then went out on the floor.
Sahyun nim Kim looked me up and down. “No, no, Kyosah Kevin, that won’t do. You are third dan, not first.”
“Sir, I was third poon. I just tested for my dan in January.”
“A formality. Third poon levels in Kwanjang nim Park’s academy must demonstrate every form and pattern that the dan levels achieve. In the association we belong to here, we don’t make that distinction because youngsters rarely achieve levels higher than the first. Your level in my dojang, and in this region, is third dan.”
“Thank you sir, I shall try to meet your expectations.”
I exercised with the group and it felt good going through my routines. I stretched and went through the basic forms and patterns alone; the class wasn’t sparring today and I didn’t want to work with a partner yet. When the class was over, I discussed the class tuition with Kim and he told me to wait until he could watch me spar; if he felt that I could teach in his facility, then he would give me a reduced fee.
~~~~
I picked up Denise for our date in the early evening and I quickly saw that she had been crying. I handed her the flowers I brought; she took them, kissed me, and brought them to the kitchen. Then she returned.
“Thanks for the flowers, darling, Mom is taking care of a vase for them.”
We walked out of the house.
“What’s wrong, sweetie? You were crying? What happened?”
“Oh, Kevin, Mom says we have to move for six months!”
“What? And why and where?”
“Her job. They told her Friday. She knows how the two of us have made a deep connection and was trying to figure out how to break it to me.”
“What’s this about?”
“You know her company has a factory near Atlanta? They want her to go there for six months; it’s a big promotion and means an incredible opportunity for her.”
I had started driving to the restaurant I had picked out to go to; my plan was dinner and movie. Very creative.
“Listen, let’s talk about this at dinner. I’d like to hear all the details, ok?”
“Mmm hmm.”
I was quiet until we got to the restaurant; my mind was churning. Soon we were seated and reading the menu. After we ordered, I asked her to tell me what she knew.
“Mom is supposed to be there in November, the first week. The company is renting her an apartment to live in and there’s even a chance that the job could become permanent. Oh, Kevin! I don’t want to leave here! Just as I’m getting over that terrible time; my last two years of school were just awful. I’m finally making friends, and met you, and all that is disappearing.”
The tears were flowing again. I slid my chair around next to her and held her around her shoulders.
“I’ve got an idea,” I mused. “It’s way out there. Your mother knows how much we care for each other?”
“Oh yes! You’re the only thing I’ve spoken about with her for two weeks!” she said shyly.
“Well, I wonder how she’d take this suggestion...” I was thinking aloud.
“What suggestion?”
“Um. You know, when I was going to move away from my parents for two years, it was for my benefit and they did it to help me to get ready for my future. Your case is almost exactly the same. You could continue to live here—you mom’s not selling your house, your staying here would be good for you academically and psychologically and help you recover so it’s good for your future, and best of all you wouldn’t be halfway around the world from her.”
“But I couldn’t live alone. Even you don’t live by yourself here.”
“Yeah, true. Oh I know, this may be a dumb suggestion and out of line, but I could be your house-mate. You have that extra bedroom.”
“Oh my god. That’s crazy. Not that I don’t love the idea...”
“Sure, let’s think about this a little...”
Our food was arriving so I slid back to my place. While eating, we continued talking. The food was really good.
“So tell me if you think your mom will agree to these ideas. First, since I’m a legal adult, I think that I could be kind of a guardian for you in the absence of your mom but you wouldn’t do anything without her approval anyway. I could handle little things like school permissions and all that. The living together, well, with the way teens are doing sex these days, that likely wouldn’t be an issue with her, right?”
She giggled, “Right. And with our ‘disabilities’ too...”
“Then we could take care of the house and make sure it’s kept safe, you know, hurricanes?”
“Yeah, but those are mostly over by November.”
“Oh, well, but other problems can happen, you know? And we wouldn’t have parties or do stupid things. You’re not like that and neither am I. She could talk to Aunt Helene; she knows about me from my folks. And I could continue to help with your therapy and recovery. Also, I could drive you to visit her on long weekends and holidays. It’s what, only about 600 or 700 km—uh, that’s 400 miles, so six hours away, right?”
“I don’t know, Kevin; you’ve convinced me. Ever since that bastard almost raped me, Mom’s been very protective.”
“Denise, this is way more important than a movie. Is your mom home tonight? Can we go talk to her?”
“Ok, yeah. Damn, I’m nervous. What if she says no?”
“Use your magic necklace then. Make a wish on it and keep a positive attitude. That always helps me.”
“Oh, sweetie; you’re such a doll.”
Soon we finished dinner and skipped dessert. I had an idea. On the way out of the restaurant, I told Denise what it was.
“Darling, Mom always told me women love attention and flowers are a good way to show that. Also sweets. How about we stop off and pick up flowers and ice cream, since I can’t buy champagne, and tell your mom we came to celebrate her promotion and good fortune?”
Denise just about jumped into my arms.
“Oh, do I love you! That’s the nicest thing I ever heard! You’re just about the sweetest, most amazing, most considerate, wonderful person I could ever imagine,” she cried and gave me a passionate kiss.
Did she say ‘love’? She did. Oh my, the feeling’s mutual. I don’t know how I’d feel if she lived six hours away—probably terrible.
I stopped to buy a nice bouquet and a gallon of ice cream. Denise said her mom liked strawberry and to get the sugarless variety because her mom was avoiding sugar.
Needless to say, Mrs Roberts was quite overwhelmed with our gifts.
“Mom, this was Kevin’s idea. He thought that this was an important event and you should celebrate somehow.”
“Kevin, you really are a doll.” She kissed me. “I can see why Denise never stops talking about you. Even how you took me to the hospital and took care of her last Monday night. Thank you, you’re unusually considerate.”
“Shall we have some ice cream to celebrate?” Denise asked. “Coffee, tea? Anything?”
We told her our beverage choices and Mrs Roberts said, “I’m afraid that I can’t have much ice cream. The reason I fainted that time was that I’ve developed diabetes. I had skipped lunch and my sugar levels had dropped. So I have to avoid sugar. Sorry, Kevin.”
“Mom, he got sugarless, see?”
“Oh, my, how’d you know that too? Is mind reading among your incredible skills that I’ve heard so much about?”
I laughed. “Sorry, haven’t learned to do that one yet, but I’m working on it. Seemed like it could be a useful skill to have.” She doubled over, laughing. “Seriously. Denise told me to get sugarless.”
She looked at Denise.
“Yeah, Mom. I noticed you buying everything now with reduced sugars and carbs but didn’t think there was a medical reason.”
“Very good, honey. I should have told you but didn’t want to give you something else to worry about.”
We spent a while talking about routine stuff, and then Mrs Roberts asked me about my family. Apparently Denise hadn’t mentioned anything about me, just the things that had happened between us since school began. So I told her about my earlier life, where I grew up, what had happened to my parents, how I had been emancipated, glossing over details. She was appalled about my parents’ death and her motherly instincts kicked right in. I told her that I was fine on my own; as my childhood had been spent mostly in the presence of adults, I never felt like a child, just a small version of an adult.
“Yeah, Mom, you should see how adults treat him. After a few minutes of talking with Kevin, most adults start treating him as a peer.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that myself. Kevin, you are different. You seem to be a thoughtful and steady kind of person, very mature for your age. When I talk to you I don’t think I’m talking to a teenager.”
“Thanks, I appreciate your saying that. My folks raised me to be responsible, I suppose, since I have almost no other family and they wanted me to become independent early so I could finish my education in the States. They must have had that idea from when I was little.”
“Well, I’ve already told you how grateful I am that you rescued Denise from having to do that horrible Program. That would have destroyed her progress after that... I hate to think of what that man, who I trusted, almost did to her... destroyed what recovery progress she made. And then in one day, you arrive, meet her, find her a better therapist, and protect her from psychological harm. And you went on to protect her from physical harm and even help in her therapy. No wonder she calls you her hero.”
“Mom, there’s something we need to talk about, too. About moving.”
“Yes, I really feel awful about taking Denise away now.”
I spoke. “I have to confess. Part of the reason for my bringing the flowers and stuff and this ‘celebration’ had an ulterior motive. I would like to propose an idea; please let me explain without interrupting so you get the full picture.”
I had organized my arguments in my mind up to this point and presented our proposal, always from the perspective of what course would be the best for Denise in her making progress toward a full recovery. But it was the prospect of Denise having to enter a new school, possibly not having her courses accepted toward graduation with advanced standing, and finally I mentioned one last issue that really made her mother stop to think.
“You also have to consider this, Mrs Rogers. I was able to get Denise to complete the Program successfully using a medical exemption. I was able to convince our high school to allow the exemption over federal objections and the school will allow her to get her diploma, because they know that I will sue them if they withhold it. If she were to transfer to another school, I assume they will not accept her Program completion and Denise will be forced into the Program again. I couldn’t let that happen. Could you?”
Denise looked like she had been slapped in the face. “Oh NO! Mother! You can’t allow that! I never thought of that!”
Her mother looked shocked also. Then she shook her head. “This is all just too much. Kevin, you’re a great persuader and you almost had me convinced before you brought up the Program. You’ve totally convinced me now...”
Denise shouted, “YES!” and threw her arms around her.
“...but I still need to check with your Aunt Helene and also speak to Bob Charlesworth about your character. I know of him and he has a very good reputation in these parts.”
“Thanks so much, Mrs Roberts. This means a lot to Denise and also to me.”
Meanwhile, Denise was hugging her mother and crying. “Thank you so much, Mom, I love you. You’re wonderful.”
Then she came to me and embraced me. “You’re wonderful too. I have two wonderful people to thank.”
Mrs Roberts went on to speak about having a few of her friends check up on us from time to time and about how she would have to think about how to arrange for details about providing money for Denise to live on, medical care for people living in different households, legal permissions for Denise... I stopped her musing.
“Mrs Roberts, let me handle some of that, please. I’ll talk to Bob and ask him to have his office draw up a plan and do any paperwork that will make this work. I’m sure they’ve seen everything and one thing lawyers are good at is imagining all possibilities. And don’t be concerned about money for Denise. I can take care of that, too.”
“No, Kevin. I can’t ask you to spend all that money! That’s too much to ask. I’ll talk to some people and figure out what I need to do.”
“Mrs Roberts, I guess Denise didn’t tell you this. Thanks for keeping our secret too, Denise. What Denise found out, it kind of slipped out and I asked her to keep mum about it, is that my parents were extremely wealthy. I don’t want people to know about it because that will cause me problems that I’d rather avoid. All my legal advice is already paid for; Bob’s firm is on a retainer, and I live very frugally. Any expenses that Denise might have would be no problem.”
“Son, the fact that you didn’t flaunt your money as an argument for your living as her house-mate is further proof of your maturity, you know. I’m very impressed.”
“No, ma’am, I didn’t mention it because first, you either already knew and it didn’t matter to your decision, or second, if you didn’t know and I told you, it would seem that I was trying to convince you by waving my money around. That would have hurt my argument a lot.”
“My god, Kevin. What incredibly insightful thinking! How old are you, truly? Come here and hug me. Can I be your honorary mother? I’m so happy that Denise found ... ah, it’s the other way around, actually. I’m glad that you fell into her life that way.”
“Thanks, Mrs Roberts. Yes, I’m rather short of mothers these days so I’ll happily accept your offer.”
“Well, this will help with a little problem of where Denise can stay tomorrow through Tuesday nights. I have to fly to Atlanta for some meetings on Monday and Tuesday and I’ll return Wednesday. I was going to have Denise stay with one of my friends. Could she stay with you—or, why not, could you stay here with her?”
Denise and I looked at each other and a silent message passed between us.
“I can stay here if it’s ok, Mrs Roberts. There’s no extra bedroom at my house.”
She grinned at the two of us. “Somehow I think that won’t be that much of a problem, but sure, your staying here is fine—no, Denise; you don’t have to object. I believe you that you slept apart from each other last week, but things’ve changed between you since then. A mother can tell.”
We wound up the evening with a pleasant chat about nothing in particular. Just three very happy people talking about happy things, while Denise sat next to me holding my hand with both of hers as she stared into my eyes for long periods. Her mother noticed her looking at me and was trying hard not to grin at us—without much success.
This was way better than any movie.
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