Not everyone makes it to their university of choice on their first try. Some don’t have the grades; others don’t have the money. A few go on a waiting list, which is how I ended up at the Brainfield Academy after graduating high school. My folks wanted to make sure I stayed academically sharp, and Brainfield was notorious for demanding standards. In my case, too demanding.
I am Robert Banister, called Bobby. At the time I was nineteen years old, 5’9, good-looking but a little thin at 150 pounds, with short brown hair and bluish eyes. I played baseball every spring and ran track the rest of the year. My major was mass media, not math and science. My older brothers went to Harvard and Yale, my sisters attended Standford and MIT. All on scholarships. When I was rejected from every notable school, and couldn’t even get into UCLA, my parents were very unhappy. Hence Brainfield where I was expected to establish my credentials for a real college. The school was expensive and we weren’t rich.
Not all of the students felt Brainfield was a step down in the world. Most thought it quite prestigious, and elite, and exempt from the normal rules. My friends were on the wealthier side. I didn’t hold it against them and they didn’t hold being poor against me. We generally had fun in the dorms except when we had to study or take tests.
Mr. Willit Jenkins, the academy biology professor, was getting frustrated with his classes. He had two or three good students, many in the middle of the pack (I raise my hand here) and too many at the bottom. He was determined to fix that by any means necessary.
“We are doing something special with this week’s examination,” he announced, tall, bony, and bald with gray whiskers and a hawk nose. “As you all know, the poor test scores I’ve been seeing don’t just reflect badly on me, but on the academy. An academy that demands much better. Dean Rutherford has given me special permission to try an experiment.”
He went to the chalkboard and outlined the reading for the week, underlining a lot of Latin terms. The emphasis was on human reproduction, which caused a few chuckles. He turned around, making the class fall silent with a deadly frown.
“So here it is,” he said, a little too pleased with himself. “We will have a special test on Wednesday. Twenty questions, multiple choice. The results will be announced Friday morning. Whoever has the lowest score will strip before the class and remain nude until the end of the hour.”
“Nude!” many of us shouted.
“That’s right. 100% totally naked,” he assured us. “Maybe this will cause some of you to take my class more seriously.”
We gazed at him, sure he couldn’t be serious. He was. We glanced around, particularly toward the young ladies. Especially Mindy Patterson, 5’7 with long blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and elegant legs. A slim and gorgeous cheerleader who looked great in a tight sweater. Seeing her naked would be a dream come true. At least half a dozen of the other women were also worthy, which we were checking out. Okay, all the girls were worthy. As for us guys, I needed to admit I found the potential punishment motivating.
Outside, several of us gathered to discuss the situation. Mindy was frightened, always being at the bottom of the class. Brad Sparrow, a friend I casually knew in high school, was getting the best grades. Brad was tall, chiseled, with short brown hair and very smart. Good teeth. He advised us on which sections to study. Chuck Madison, a lanky acquaintance and a member of the tennis team, swore to study all night. Like me, science was not his best subject.
“I just heard,” Sandra Cummings said, rushing over from her literature class. “All the kids are talking about it. Is one of you really going to strip? Completely naked?”
I’d had many fantasies about Sandy for the last year. A bad crush. She was 5’4 with perky round breasts and a tight butt, long auburn hair and an electric personality. Like her closest friends, she was also a cheerleader. Tests never bothered her.
“That’s Professor Jenkins’ plan,” Brad confirmed. “He let me glance at the test but I’m not allowed to talk about it.”
“Why you?” Chuck asked.
“He knows I’m going to ace it. Just stay on top of the Latin terms for intercourse.” We laughed, but not very loud.
The test that Wednesday was tense. Twenty-two of us sitting at our desks on a warm spring morning with the windows open. I had studied my butt off and felt fairly sure I would do well. There were twenty questions. Answering ten correctly should be enough to avoid stripping. I was hoping I had fourteen or fifteen right. Many of my fellow students weren’t so confident. Professor Jenkins frowned at us the whole time as if wishing we’d all fail. To my shame, I kept looking at poor Mindy, who appeared very nervous. Were her tits really as big as they looked through her blouse? Was she shaved?
“Time’s up,” Jenkins announced, having Brad collect the papers. Most of us breathed sighs of relief. The whole school was talking about Jenkin’s plan, some debating if it was even legal. Sadly, it was. Registration for the Brainfield Academy provided the dean with wide latitude when it came to student discipline, and he was solidly behind Jenkin’s scheme, thinking it would motivate the academy to stronger scholastics. He was probably right. If anyone wanted to get naked in front of their fellow students, they weren’t saying so. For myself, other than showering in the gym, I’d never been naked in front of anyone. Not even a girl. I was still a virgin.
Friday. We all took our usual seats, Jenkins arriving last with a stack of papers under his arm. He glared at us looking especially unhappy. This wasn’t going to be good.
“It is no surprise that Wednesday’s exams were better than usual but still below par. One test was especially galling, which I will address later. As for any dissention, if the low scorer of this exercise refuses to accept punishment, they may go directly to the administration office. Mrs. Trinket already has the dismissal papers prepared, all she needs to do is fill in the name. Tuition will not be refunded.”
He turned to the chalkboard behind his desk, pulling down a poster of a woman showing all of the biological parts, and then a man showing all of his biological parts. Then he sketched notes between them.
“Men and women are not created the same,” he lectured. “They have different attributes. Is that really so hard for you Gen Z geniuses to understand?” Some of us guys laughed. The girls giggled.
He made notes with arrows pointing at pertinent organs. “On the next test, you will be asked to identify these differences. Failure to be accurate will have drastic consequences. Listen to what I’m saying. Drastic consequences.”
Jenkins turned to face the class. “As for drastic consequences, let’s review our current situation. Brad?”
Brad went to the front of the class and took the exams, going up and down the aisles to pass them out. We all turned to look at Mindy. When she sighed with relief, we were all surprised. And worried.
“Sorry, Bobby,” Brad whispered, dropping my test on the desk. I couldn’t believe it.
“Zero out of twenty? No, that’s not possible!” I exclaimed, looking the paper over. Those were my pencil marks and my name at the bottom, but it didn’t look like my answers. How could such a mistake happen?
“Mr. Banister, come forward,” Professor Jenkins summoned. I stared without comprehension, unable to move. All around me were chuckling. Smirking. Happy it wasn’t them.
“Sir, this isn’t right,” I protested. “I know I did better than this.”
“Come forward,” the peeved professor repeated.
I slowly stood up, walking to the front and stopping next to his desk. Shaking like a leaf.
“You understood the challenge and chose to mock me by not answering a single question correctly,” Jenkins accused. “I’m not interested in your excuses. Strip!”
My instinct was to run for the door, but if Jenkins had me expelled, my family would be out the $40,000 they paid to send me here. Money they could barely afford. This was bad. I looked up at the classmates who were watching in anticipation.
I took off my blue coat, undid the red tie, and dropped them on Jenkin’s desk. My polished black shoes and black socks went next, and then my long-sleeved shirt. I took my wallet and phone from my pockets, pulled out my belt, and let the slacks fall to the floor, stepping out. I still had my undershirt and jockey shorts.
“Everything,” Jenkins gleefully ordered. I took a deep breath, pulled off the shirt, and tugged my shorts down. And there I stood before the class. The men sitting at their desks were wearing coats and ties. The women wore academy-mandated charcoal gray business outfits with knee length skirts. And then there was me, totally naked, using my hands for modesty. There were a few laughs. Most were shocked.
“Miss Patterson, I expected you to be standing before us today,” Jenkins mentioned. “Gather this failure’s clothes and put them in the bag.”
The professor held up a thick canvas sack with a zipper. Mindy rushed up, stuffed my suit and shoes into the bag, and zipped it closed. Jenkins attached a padlock so it couldn’t be opened.
“Return to your seat, Miss Patterson,” our professor ordered. Mindy glanced at me with an unspoken apology and raced away. Jenkins put the bag on the floor out of sight.
“Mr. Sparrow, you will be this student’s custodian. Do you understand?” Jenkins instructed. “Do you understand there will be consequences if you fail in your duty? To me? To this academy?”
“Yes, sir,” Brad acknowledged, not looking too pleased.
“As for you, Mr. Banister, I have spoken with Dean Rutherford about the disrespect you’ve demonstrated for this experiment and he agrees with me that additional punishment is in order. If you had simply failed the test, you would have suffered an hour of embarrassment in this classroom. Now you will remain nude for the entire day. You will attend your regular classes, have lunch in the cafeteria, and this afternoon, you will join the cheerleaders on their bus for our Sharks game in Fairmount. After the game, your clothes will be returned.”
“No!” I shouted. “That’s not fair! I didn’t fail the test!”
“Your insolence will be paid for,” Jenkins insisted, his brow darkly bent. “If you don’t cooperate, you will be expelled. Are you willing to be expelled?”
“No, sir,” I meekly answered.
“As you know, Mr. Banister, today’s lesson is the process of male ejaculation,” he smugly continued. “Unless you want to demonstrate male ejaculation for the class, you will not say another word.”
Shit! Every time I thought it couldn’t get worse, it got worse. I walked back to my seat, sat down, and kept my mouth shut. I would need to ride this out, one way or another.
Jenkins went into great detail on how men become sexually aroused, stimulated, and climax, both during intercourse and through masturbation. Using a ten-inch fake penis, he used stroking motions to make the obscene thing eject a creamy white fluid. Several times. Students ducked out of the way to avoid being squirted. Many kept looking at me, perhaps disappointed I wasn’t performing the exhibition. It’s not like I had a huge dick, about 5” on a good day, but enough to attract attention. A trim package, not too hairy. Every female in the class was checking me out. In a weird sort of way, I kind of liked that.
“That will be all for today,” Jenkins finally concluded. “Mr. Banister, I will see you after the football game.”
We were dismissed. As my fellow students followed, I went to the door, stopping to look out into the quad. A crowd was already gathering as word spread. Everyone was texting their friends. Both hands covered my front. Nothing could be done about my butt.
“I can’t go out there,” I whimpered.
“You’ve got no choice, Bobby,” Brad had to insist.
“It’s too much.”
“It’s only the beginning,” he warned. “You’ve got two classes and a bus trip ahead of you.” Oh, god, I thought, this is going to be the longest day of all time.
I stepped out, receiving cat calls and a round of enthusiastic applause. Phones were raised, taking photos.
“No, please, don’t take pictures,” I begged, hunching over.
“Sorry, Bobby, this is too good to pass up,” Charlie Lassiter of the La Crosse team answered.
“Make him drop his hands,” a pretty blonde co-ed called out.
“I’ll get his arms,” a burly jock offered.
“No! I’m not dropping my hands!” I shouted, backing away.
“Can we spank him?” bubbly Miranda Evans asked.
For a moment, I thought they might grab me. Brad stepped up. “Professor Jenkins didn’t say anything about that,” he countermanded. “He only said Bobby has to be nude.”
“Who put you in charge?” someone objected.
“Jenkin’s made me his custodian and anyone who doesn’t like that can go fuck themselves,” Brad announced looking ready for a fight.
My fans sighed with disappointment but didn’t do more. Then I held my breath. Sandra Cummings ran up, the girl I’d had a crush on all year. She was all smiles, dancing around me in cute little hops.
“You look so great,” she gushed, her big green eyes filled with excitement. “Can I see the rest of you?” I almost said yes.
“No,” I replied. She laughed.
“We’ll see about that. What happens next?” she asked.
“He has astronomy,” Brad replied, for it was a class we both took. “Then lunch in the cafeteria.”
“We’ll make it a party!” Sandra decided. “Everybody has to be there. Someone should sneak in some beer!”
The mob began to disperse for their classes. Brad and I started for the science building with only Sandra and Chuck staying close. And then there was the biggest surprise of all.
“Brad!” Mindy yelled, running up and jumping into his arms. “Brad, thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so much. First chance I get, I’m going to fuck you into tomorrow.”
“You’re welcome, honeybunch. I’m babysitting right now. Maybe after lunch?” Brad suggested. “The photo-lab should be empty.”
“Thank you?” I questioned.
“I had the worse score on the test,” Mindy confessed. “Brad fixed it for me.”
“What the fuck!” I bellowed.
“Sorry, pal. Mindy was going to be naked in front of the whole class. I couldn’t let that happen,” he explained. “She’s my girl. No one sees her naked but me.”
“What about my test?” I asked.
“You were in the middle of the pack, but I didn’t have time to alter any of the others. Everyone else used pens. Like always, you used a pencil. Changing the answers only took a few minutes.”
I couldn’t believe it. He not only tricked me, he wasn’t the least bit sorry. All in the service of his girlfriend.
“That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard of,” Sandra complimented. “Brad, you are a goddamn knight in shining armor.”
“And I’m fucking naked,” I complained. “Find me something to wear.”
“Can’t do that. You heard Jenkins, and the whole school knows about this. You’d be reported in a minute,” Brad denied. “He’d come after me, too.”
“It would be worth it,” I replied, making him nervous. “It’s not like I have anything to lose.”
Without waiting, I suddenly marched off toward the administration building. My three companions hesitantly trailed after. Many startled eyes turned in my direction. Students. Teachers. Groundskeepers. Distinguished visitors. They would look up, see me coming, and jump out of my way. I was so angry that I wasn’t even covering myself, my dick bouncing back and forth. I ran inside the marble monument, glanced around the lightly populated hall, and stormed into Mrs. Trinket’s office, the chief administrator. She jumped from her chair.
“What is this?” she inquired.
“I shouldn’t be naked. The test was rigged,” I shot back, ready to throw something through a window. There was a snow globe on her desk.
That’s impossible. Mr. Jenkins is a man of high honor and integrity!” she answered. “He would never tamper with a test or allow anyone else!”
“It was rigged,” I repeated.
“How do you know? What proof do you have? Who was it?” Mrs. Trinket demanded. “Tell me and they will be immediately expelled.”
Expelled? I thought. I paused to look around the office. Very neat and organized. A stickler for rules. There was a photo of her and Professor Jenkins together at Disneyland holding hands and wearing Mickey Mouse ears. This would be a scandal. I glanced back to see Brad and Mindy in the corridor close enough to listen. Was I going to rat them out? Get them expelled? Sandra was there, too. What would she think about someone who ratted out their friends? Goddamn it!
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Trinket, I think I’ve made a mistake,” I apologized. “This is such a difficult experience, I became desperate.”
She looked relieved. The group in the hallway let out their breaths. In an odd way, I felt better, too. Yes, the rest of the day was going to be hell, but I had not disgraced myself. I would be embarrassed but not shamed.
“Young man, you need to show better decorum,” Mrs. Trinket suddenly lectured, doubling down. “Be glad I’m not asking Dean Rutherford for extra punishment. You may be naked for a day but we can make it longer. A lot longer.”
I was covering myself again, backing out of her office. The moment I was in the clear, I sprinted for the quad, gathering my breath under an oak tree. The others caught up.
“Thanks, Bob,” Brad gratefully said, offering to shake hands.
I shook his hand with a firm grip. “By the way,” I added, “my dick has been all over that hand.”
He ran for a drinking fountain to wash.
“You are so brave,” Mindy praised, pulling me close for a kiss on the cheek. “If I wasn’t with Brad, I’d fuck your eyes out.”
“And steal my virginity?” I jokingly said.
“What? You’re a virgin?” Sandra asked, butting in.
“Don’t tell anybody,” I confidentially whispered.
“It’s our secret,” Mindy promised.
Brad returned, wiping his hands on his slacks. It felt very strange standing there before a man in a suit and tie with two women in gray business outfits. If they expected me to relax enough to drop my hands, they would be disappointed.
“Astronomy,” Brad announced, pointing the way. “I bet Mrs. Haversham will be interested in seeing the new moon.”
They laughed. I didn’t think it was funny. Sandra slid next to me just before running off.
“I bet the cheerleading bus is going to be extra exciting tonight,” she grinned, slapping my ass.
Mrs. Rene Haversham did not say anything about new moons, mine or any others. She did have a little fun, calling me to the front of the class, handing me a pointer, and then leading me around the room telling me to identify the star formations on the walls. Each time I raised the pointer, there was only one hand left to cover myself. Mrs. Haversham offered me a book but I didn’t fall for her trick. She laughed. It was all surprisingly good-natured. Even my classmates were generous, keeping their mocking to a minimum. I briefly wondered what I would be thinking in their place. Would I share their mockery? Feel superior? Want to rub it in? Maybe I would, which was not a point of pride. I’d been raised better, with better expectations. I decided that I could be mad at them but I wouldn’t judge them.
The cafeteria. Oh, my god. How many did it seat? Three hundred? How much is standing room only? Everyone taking pictures. I needed to suck this up. I decided that if anyone tried to pull my hands away, I’d punch them in the face. Hard. Even a girl. Okay, maybe not a girl.
I walked between Brad and Chuck across the courtyard into the rambling single-story eatery. A moment later, Sandra and Mindy, along with their gal pals Joanne, Cindy and Keisha, joined us, all of them cheerleaders. The ladies had removed their academy jackets wearing only their blouses and knee-length skirts. The blouses were not buttoned all the way, showing generous cleavage. They were providing a distraction, though this was not the place for me to think about such things.
Being fancy, the Oscar & Felix Cafeteria had a great buffet, real porcelain dishes, and silverware that wasn’t plastic. Three cooks looked up from their kitchen window when I entered, surrounded by five beautiful women. The room paused in awe. For a moment, I was a god.
As hundreds watched in near silence, we went to wait in line where I was anxiously looking forward to lunch. They had my favorites, buffalo wings and chili fries. Though there was a problem that couldn’t be solved. I looked at the delicious food with great longing and took a coke instead.
“What’s wrong?” she wondered. “You look hungry. You could probably eat this entire buffet by yourself.”
“I can’t carry the tray without using both hands,” I answered. “I’m not giving these ghouls the satisfaction of seeing my junk.”
“You can’t really be that embarrassed?” Sandra laughed. “Bobby, this is college. The big leagues. An elite academy. Any of us might be naked at any time.”
“That can’t be true,” I doubted.
“Oh, it’s true. It’s really true. Isn’t that right, girlfriends?” Sandra asked.
“Yes, it’s true,” all four of them answered with a lot of giggling. I knew it wasn’t true and suddenly I didn’t care.
“Okay, fuck it,” I conceded, grabbing the tray, filling it to the limit, and walking out into the dining area looking for a table. One had been cleared for me in the very center of the room. What kindness.
Reaching my seat, I set the tray down and made an inspection of those around me, spotting the smirking faces. Seeing the phone flashes. Hearing their curious mumbling.
“You can all relax,” I announced, stepping away from the table and raising my arms. I rotated in a circle giving everyone a full view. They could see everything. All 5’9, 150 pounds of me on display.
“Here I am, ladies and gentlemen. Have all the fun you want and pray this never happens to you,” I cautioned.
Heads nodded, much to my surprise, though it didn’t stop the wisecracks. Fortunately, my entourage wasted no time following, quickly filling up the table. Mindy grabbed my hand, making me sit.
The food was so good. I was wolfing it down, drinking an entire large coke, and then two more cokes as Chuck kept fetching more.
“Where is the naked little loser putting all that food?” a business major sneered loud enough for many to hear.
The women at my table exchanged glances and nodded. Mindy and Joanne rose from their seats, going to stand on one side of the miscreant. Frowning. Cindy and Keisha went to stand on the other.
“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked with a leering grin, reaching out to them.
Sandra came up behind him and poured an entire pitcher of grapefruit juice over his head, soaking the blue jacket. He literally screamed, leaping from his chair and shaking juice all over everyone. When the jerk turned on the girls in a fury, he found four football players in his face. He skulked away, dripping.
“Let me be clear about this,” Annie announced to the startled assembly. “Anyone who disrespects Bobby disrespects us. Do all of you understand? There’s a lot more juice where that came from.”
The mob understood, keeping their heads down. The ladies thanked the players and returned to the table. Much of the room stopped paying attention to us. Hardly anyone was taking pictures.
“What class do you have next?” Sandra asked.
“Bobby has world history. Usually I have economics, but I need to skip class today to baby sit,” Brad explained. “It’s too bad, I have an important test.”
“We’ll watch him for you,” Sandra offered. “Instead of a boring history lecture, the girls and I will take him to our drama class. Won’t that be fun?”
“Works for me,” Brad agreed, getting up to leave. “Just keep him nude. I’m sure Jenkins has spies watching us.”
I walked with five very attractive women in the other direction. Through the middle of campus. Seen by students, faculty, and staff. Usually I kept myself covered, being outdoors, but occasionally let a hand slip. Not to be a tease, just being as casual as possible under the circumstances.
The drama class was in the fine arts building near the rear on the ground floor. I took classes here on the second floor in the media and advertising department, so I’d only been in the theater a few times. There were startled looks from the other students, about thirty of them, and a delighted smile from their teacher, Janet Sycamore.
“What treat is this?” Janet asked, eyebrows going up.
“We’re watching Bobby so Brad Sparrow can take a test,” Sandra explained.
“Bob will be with us for the entire show,” Mindy elaborated.
“Show?” I wondered, accompanied by more giggles.
“We are rehearsing Prometheus Bound this afternoon,” Janet answered. “We’ll give you a role in the production. Don’t worry, there won’t be any lines.”
Everyone started rushing around. I sat in the third row of the theater to be less visible. Many were dressing in ancient Greek outfits. Staff were setting up lighting and decorating the set. Sandra’s elaborate silk costume included a gold crown.
They prepared to start the play, a dress rehearsal with all the formality of an opening night. There were three actors on stage while everyone else watched. Janet gave directions; move here, move there. Speak loudly. Project. She gave the cue to begin.
“This Titan may not defy us!” Zeus boldly declared, waving an angry fist. He was a curly blond-haired basketball player with the build of a Greek statue.
“He stole fire from the gods,” Hephaestus proclaimed, skinny, thin-haired and whiny, “and gave it to the common people. Now everything will change. Their power will be equal to our own. Prometheus must have great punishment.”
“He will be our slave,” Zeus ruled. “A slave of the true gods.”
Janet came up to me, waved, and drew me toward the stage.
“Go up there and follow instructions,” she whispered.
“What?” I asked, totally confused.
“Just do what you’re told,” my determined director insisted.
I found the steps, going up slowly. Two actors dressed as Dionysos and Hestia took my arms, leading me to the middle of the stage. There was a long, lumpy platform made of gray foam.
“This is Mount Caucasus,” Hestia announced. “Let the slave be chained.”
Chained! What the fuck! I was laid on the ‘rock’, cast iron rings attached to my ankles, and then my arms were rudely pulled up, wrists bound, stretching me spreadeagle. It all happened so fast. I began to struggle but it was too late. I could only squirm. Lying exposed for all to see.
“Let him remain there for all eternity,” Zeus imperiously sentenced as a bright white spotlight zeroed in on me. “Have an eagle eat his liver in everlasting torment.”
The gods left the stage, leaving me alone, naked and helpless. Eternity? Everlasting torment? I sure hoped not. One thing for sure, I wasn’t going anywhere, tugging on the iron rings and finding them strong.
I didn’t lie there forever, it just felt like it. Then a ghost-like spirit drifted in from the wing in a flowing white gown and gold crown. It was Sandra, now Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, and desire. I began to panic. This was not the place to become aroused with three dozen people watching.
Sandra swished around, stood over me, strolled about the stage gazing out at the audience, and then came back to me again. I lay before her in all my glory. Chained. Barely able to move. She paused for dramatic effect.
“This punishment exceeds your misdeeds,” Aphrodite consoled. “I must give you strength for such an ordeal.”
She ran a hand over my chest, then my stomach, and finally my thigh, the hair rising. And that’s not all that was rising. This was going to be a nightmare. Or a dream come true.
Before my swelling manhood could be easily seen from the floor area, Sandra suddenly crawled on top of me. The entire lower part of my body was obscured by the flowing dress. She leaned over to give me a kiss. Not any kiss. It was long and breathless. Her body began moving back and forth. Rubbing me. Making full contact. Actors and stagehands watched from the floor area in rapt attention.
“Make it look real, Sandra,” Janet called from her director’s chair. “The audience must be convinced. Give it everything!”
Sandra was definitely giving it everything, her motions growing vigorous, and then I realized: she wasn’t wearing underwear! I felt her warm flesh against mine. And then hot flesh. She was panting, her eyes lustful, both hands pressing down on my shoulders. Her hips lowered, raised, and lowered again. And then I was inside her. Engulfed. Absorbed. Is this how acting usually worked? I needed to change majors.
Soon I was grunting along with her, never having felt so excited. And ready. Wanting to explode. She grew moist. Slippery. Pressing up and down while I was firmly stationary. It built up on me like a storm and Sandra was the lightning. I don’t know if she came but I certainly did, harder than I ever had before. My head rocked back on the foam rock as air escaped my lungs in a long groan. For a moment or two, I couldn’t see clearly.
“Looks like you’re not a virgin anymore,” she whispered, leaning close.
The play must go on. Sandra backed away while taking a long last look at her captive, withdrawing toward the wing. She turned at the last minute.
“Do not be afraid, great hero of the people, Heracles is coming to save you,” she revealed. And then Aphrodite departed the stage for Mount Olympus. There was applause from our audience.
I was alone again, expended. Hardly breathing. The cast began to move around, removing costumes, exchanging notes, and finding coffee. And I just lay there for all to see. Where the hell was Heracles?
“Just so you know, Bob, I didn’t allow any photographs,” Janet informed, sitting next to me on Mt. Caucasus. “This is a professional environment. But you look great. We’ll take some pictures if you want.”
“That’s okay, Mrs. Sycamore. Maybe not today,” I replied.
“Oh, let us take a few,” Mindy teased, rushing up with Joanne, Keisha and Cindy holding their phones. They gathered around, their cute faces filled with excited smiles. Giggling. Bumping each other’s shoulders. As happy as any group of young women could be. But they did not take pictures. Keisha let me sip water from a straw.
“You were wonderful, Bob,” Janet praised. “So passionate and real. I almost thought you were really having sex. I have a question for you?”
“Yes?” I inquired. Not that I was in a position to say no.
“We are planning a performance for the student body. Would you consider returning?”
“You should, Bobby. You have to,” Keisha urged.
“You’re the best Prometheus ever!” Cindy declared.
“Don’t you already have another actor?” I inquired.
The entire group exchanged guilty glances, even Janet.
“We’ve been using a mannequin,” Cindy confessed.
“Well, at least I’m a step up from a dummy,” I acknowledged, allowing them relieved laughs. “Maybe I can appear in the play, though I do have a request first.”
“What’s that?” Janet asked.
“Can you get me loose from this mattress?”
“Oh, god, of course,” Janet agreed, motioning for the girls to unclasp the iron rings. “I’m sorry for leaving you here so long. You fit so naturally into the role that I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s good to know I have a talent,” I responded.
There was more chuckling and giggling. Many had been nervous that I was going to take this all wrong. Explode into an angry fit. Make threats. I was past all that. Comfortable with who I was and what I was doing. Though I’d still be covering myself when possible.
A moment later, I was free, sitting at the edge of the stage, stretching. Few gave me a second thought, wrapping up their costumes and props. I was covering again, my knees squeezed together. I could hardly believe what had just happened, like the world had changed. And yet everything around me seemed so normal. Except for me being the only one naked.
Brad and Chuck arrived just as the class was finishing. Mindy rushed over to whisper in Brad’s ear and he burst out with a huge grin, giving me a thumbs up. Sandra came to sit next to me, now back in her gray academy suit.
“That was so much fun,” she said.
“It was really nice of you.” I appreciated it.
“I don’t see it that way.”
“How is that?”
“You have been so fucking brave today. Mindy may not be too bright but everyone loves her. She’s so sweet and giving. Going naked would have been so humiliating. Then you took the fall for her.”
“That’s not exactly true,” I was forced to admit.
“Oh, I know. Everyone’s heard how the test was rigged, but they also know you were in Mrs. Trinket’s office giving her hell, making her cave in. And then she threatened to expel Brad, and maybe Mindy, too. You decided to stay naked when you might have gotten out of it. I don’t know many guys who would do that. And in cafeteria, you took them all on like a lion. It got me so hot, I had to have you. I’ve got to keep having you. It was my idea to make you an actor.”
“What happens now?” I asked.
“If you want to take the role of Prometheus, we’ll need a lot of rehearsal,” she replied.
It was three o’clock by the time we left the Fine Arts Building. The buses for the trip to Fairmount were lining up in the parking lot. The football team had a bus. The cheer squad had a bus. Boosters had two buses. Some students, like Brad and Chuck, would be using their cars. I wasn’t driving, that’s for sure.
“We have about an hour before we need to board. Want to get coffee and snacks?” Mindy suggested. It sounded good. We started back toward the cafeteria. Suddenly, Dean Rutherford was standing in front of us.
“I need to speak with Mr. Banister. The rest of you can move on,” he declared, arms crossed before him. What had I done now?
My entourage walked off of bit and then stopped under a tree to watch. They were too far away to hear. The dean motioned to a bench and had me sit. He was in his late-50s, tall but growing round, with thinning hair and eyeglasses.
“We’ve got a problem,” he started.
“Dean, I think I’m the one who has a problem. You’re wearing clothes and I’m fucking naked. About to get on a bus for a football game forty miles away.”
“It’s about you being naked that we’re talking. One of our secretaries overheard your conversation with Mrs. Trinket this morning. It raised questions. I had the examinations brought to my office.”
“I didn’t cheat,” I interrupted, wondering if it was an excuse to kick me out of school.
“No, I know you didn’t,” he acknowledged. “Your scores were changed, and not even very well. I found thirteen erasure marks. Jenkins was so outraged by the low score that he never bothered to check for himself. If you want to file complaints against him, and Mrs. Trinket, and the academy, you have that right. And we’ll find out who set you up. That person will pay dearly.”
I needed to think for a moment. Rutherford looked very nervous. Why? A scandal? Would his biology professor be fired? His chief administrator? What about the other teachers and staff who had enjoyed my unjust humiliation? Could they be in jeopardy? Janet and Mrs. Haversham had been very nice to me, gently teasing without being mean. I liked them.
“This has been the worst day of my life,” I lamented. “Stripped naked. Paraded past hundreds of mocking students. Photographed. Degraded. Traumatized. I don’t know how I’ll ever come back from it.”
The Dean paused, giving me an insightful inspection. We understood each other.
“I hear you’ve been fairly onboard,” he negotiated. “No yelling. No temper tantrums. Surrounded by the prettiest girls in school fawning all over you.”
“Do you have a suggestion, sir? A way out of this problem?”
He breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t angry. Or stubborn. Just listening.
“We know your family struggles with tuition. If we can pretend the wrongful test score never happened, we’ll give you a full scholarship for the year. That’s $40,000 refunded to your parents. And I can help your professors know you need good grades.”
“I would take responsibility for a test with no correct answers?”
“Yes, to keep up appearances,” he confirmed.
“Doesn’t that make me look pretty dumb?”
“Only if anyone believed it, and from what I’m hearing, no one believes it.”
I gave it a moment of thought.
“I’ll be here two years,” I mentioned.
The dean gave me a closer look. “And?” he asked.
“I think a scholarship for both years would be fair, along with dorm fees, cafeteria privileges, and a stipend sufficient to go out with my friends once or twice a week.”
The dean was quiet at first. Contemplating the events of the day. Probably not in the same context that I did.
“You are not as naïve as people say,” he observed.
“Less naïve than I was this morning,” I assured him.
“You have a deal but keep up appearances. You’ll still need to be nude the rest of the day. We can’t have official suspicions that this experiment wasn’t all on the up and up.”
“I understand, sir. That’s not a problem,” I agreed, offering to shake his hand. He profusely returned the gesture, glad a public relations disaster had been averted. I didn’t tell him where the hand had been.
After Dean Rutherford left, my friends rushed back wanting to know what happened. I gave them a rough idea, not being too detailed. Brad and Mindy were not going to get in trouble. The academy was giving me a scholarship. I’d have to stay naked for a few more hours.
It was time to board the buses for Fairmount and the parking lot was crowded. I was nervous as hundreds assembled, now dressed in their day clothes. I would have liked day clothes, too, having nothing but my hands. Standing nude in a sea of students and faculty. What were the football players going to do? Were they going to mock me? Harass me? Play mean pranks? They came toward me looking like giants.
Timothy Hutchinson, the imposing team captain, paused before me as dozens watched. Six inches taller and seventy pounds heavier, he stared down at me. I held my breath.
“We heard it was Mindy who failed the test,” he said. “And rather than let her be humiliated, you took the fall. Just so you know, we love Mindy.” And then he grabbed me so hard that I was lifted off my feet, hugging like a big brother.
“You’re one of us now,” Hutchinson assured me. “Whatever you need, Bobby, just say the word.”
To say I was relieved is an understatement. There was some chuckling and cheerful backslaps. The cheerleaders were only a few yards away, all smiles. I think Mindy and Keisha were crying.
I entered the bus with the cheerleaders and the marching band. Everyone wore clothes except me. I found a seat in the back and Sandra generously gave me a Sharks banner to lay across my lap, yellow with black lettering. We sang songs and practiced cheers.
The stadium was busy. Still wrapped in the Sharks banner, I followed everyone down to the cheerleader’s locker room. I wondered how Jenkins ever thought I could wander around a football stadium in another town nude and not be arrested. As it was, the banner covered plenty and no one asked if I was wearing underwear. When it was gametime, I followed Sandra and the girls out on the field. Fortunately, it was a warm night. I heard teasing from our fans in the stands. I did not participate in the cheerleading routines, though the girls kept saying I should. Being thrown in the air and have the banner fly off before 35,000 people did not excite me. At the time. I also did not march with the band. At halftime, Sandra led me to a private changing room in the basement and locked the door.
“We need to rehearse the play again,” she seductively said, pushing me back on a bench.
She took off the cheerleading outfit followed by her bra and panties, standing before me in her natural state. She was gorgeous. Perfect in every possible way. I couldn’t move, just staring. And she wasn’t looking at me like the idiot who got himself naked. She was looking at someone else. Prometheus. I was definitely changing my major.
“Come on, hero, we don’t have much time,” she ordered, getting instant obedience.
I ate two hot dogs with mustard and relish, downed two large cokes, and consumed a bag of peanuts. Having no wallet, I wasn’t paying.
The Sharks won the game and we started back out to the parking lot. We found Professor Jenkins and Mrs. Trinket waiting for us in the shadows. They were wearing the most embarrassing underwear I ever saw. Jenkins was in a ratty tank top, striped boxer shorts, dress shoes, black socks, and garters. Mrs. Trinket had a lowcut night top over a girdle, silk stocking up to her thighs, and may have been going commando.
“What’s this all about?” I asked.
“Dean Rutherford said we must apologize to you while wearing these ridiculous outfits,” Jenkins grouched. “Yes, I didn’t monitor the test adequately, but it was a good lesson for the academy. All of the students are studying harder now. My experiment is a success.”
“Just a minute,” I paused, waving Brad and the girls over. “Guys, let’s get photos of this.”
“No!” Mrs. Trinket shrieked, spinning around. But all it did was show her ass. And yes, she had gone commando. The girls laughed as they recorded the event.
“That’s enough,” the biology professor complained. “We’re sorry for making you run all over school naked today. Not real sorry, but sorry enough.”
“Yes, sorry,” Mrs. Jenkins added. “I should have gone to Willit with your concern instead of being so defensive. It won’t happen again.”
I should hope not, I thought. How often did they expect this to happen? Were there going to be more experiments? Jenkins stepped forward with the canvas bag holding my clothes and handed me the key.
“You fulfilled your obligation,” he announced. “On future tests, I’ll be studying yours’s more carefully. Very carefully.”
He whirled around and walked off, taking Mrs. Trinket by the hand.
“At least I can finally get dressed,” I said, putting the key in the lock. Suddenly, Sandra snatched the key away from me. She gave my clothes to Brad.
“Sandra, what is this?” I asked.
The entire group was there. Sandra, Mindy, Brad, Chuck, Keisha, Cindy and Joanne. We felt like the Eight Musketeers having gone through a long day together. And as embarrassing as everything had been, I was not blind. They had protected me. Provided moral support. Yes, teased me at time, but with good hearts. The women had appeared in the cafeteria with their blouses open, distracting from my situation. Not to mention Sandra and Mt. Caucasus.
“It’s Friday night,” Brad explained. “Fairmont has great nightclubs, and they don’t always card their patrons.”
“We should go out on the town to celebrate,” Mindy urged, hugging his arm.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got nothing to show if I am carded,” I pointed out.
“Oh, you have plenty to show,” Sandra corrected, taking my hand. “No one is going to card a guy brave enough to enter a bar naked with half the football team.”
“Sandra has that right,” Hutchinson said. “Anyone who fucks with you fucks with us.” The team raised their fists and shouted.
“Guys, please. I can’t,” I meekly protested, pulling the banner tighter.
Sandra drew me close, whispering in my ear. Many leaned forward, trying to listen.
“You’ll do what?” I asked loud enough for everyone to hear. “Where?”
She breathlessly whispered again, her hands getting busy. Tugging at the banner. Massaging my butt. I grinned like a hungry lion before giving her a kiss. “But why can’t I get dressed?” I questioned.
“Bobby, this day has been legendary,” Brad said. “We don’t want it to end so soon. It’s the kind of story we’ll be telling our kids and grandkids about.”
“It’s the story we’ll be telling our grandkids about,” my dream girl emphasized, a fire in her eyes. Could that really be true? I couldn’t take a chance that it wasn’t.
“Okay, guys,” I decided. “It’s Friday night, what are we waiting for?”
