"Wakey, wakey, breakfast is almost ready," Therese's mom called cheerfully through the doorway. A week ago, I realized, sleeping with Therese would have gotten us both in enormous trouble. Who knew how we'd be punished for such a thing? Oh, that's right. They'd have our sex organs removed and make us go naked so everybody knew.

I was screwed. No wait; how could that be?

Unless something changed I'd be spending the whole day naked: at home, at school, and anywhere else I went. It was freaky to think about and even freakier to do. Fortunately (or not) freaky was starting to feel normal.

Therese was awake by then. As I'd done with her sister Rhonda, we rolled around in bed a while, went to the bathroom together, and showered together. Unlike Rhonda, Therese didn't want us to watch each other pee. Instead, we peed in the shower. Already, pissing while standing seemed a little strange.

Therese's dad found Bess and Seth waiting naked in the hall for the shower. "Looks like we need a bigger shower," he remarked. Breakfast was as normal as it could be with the four of us sitting around the table naked and sexless. Charlie and Rhonda had spent the night at our house.

"Isn't it a pain to carry that backpack everywhere you go?" Therese asked as we got ready to leave.

"Yeah, but look at me: no pockets," I explained.

"Do you want a purse? I have some extras," Therese offered.

"No, guys don't carry purses," I told her politely.

"I've been thinking of it," Seth piped in. "I mean, we're not guys anymore, and it doesn't have to be a purse. In Europe they call it a bag."

I wasn't entirely convinced but Rhonda found me a plain brown leather shoulder bag embossed with the name of a blue jean company. I accepted, thinking it looked like something a hunter, trapper, militiaman, or pony express might have carried. Therese found something similar in denim for Seth. Both of us had to admit that our wallets, keys, phones and stuff fit in pretty well.

* * * * *

At school we gathered in our usual place and suffered the usual glares, questions, and taunts. Ethan Smith and Fiona Williams stopped to say hello and then ran off to neck in the same stairwell where they'd been caught Monday. Now, of course, it was perfectly OK. A flood of students passed by and many of then gawked, but neither Ethan, Fiona, or the hall monitors seemed to care. From time to time another flat passed by, some of whom I was sure had been normal on Monday or Tuesday.

How far and how fast was this going to go, I wondered? Getting flattened was, of course, a one way street. The numbers could only increase. I suppose they could've let us start wearing clothes again but that seemed less important with each passing day.

Mike Phillips and Julia Smithers stopped to talk and that surprised me. For one thing, I hadn't realized they were friends. For another, no intact kids ever stopped to talk, except for the usual dumb questions.

"So, how's it going?" Mike wanted to know.

"Oh, OK, I guess," I replied. "Nothing major has come up."

"I hear that going flat doesn't have to be a punishment, that it can also be voluntary. Do you guys know anything about that?" Mike asked.

"No, but why would anyone voluntarily get themselves flattened?" I questioned.

"Well, you know, if sex seems complicated or threatening, or if you just want to go naked," Mike replied, glancing at Julia.

"I suppose you could ask around," Bess volunteered. "It's no sillier than a lot of other things we get asked."

"Or just call 'em up," Seth suggested. "It's Liberty Clinic. They're new here, but you could call Directory Assistance or find 'em on the Web."

"Yeah, maybe we'll do that," stated Julia while pulling at her sleeve, and then the two of them drifted away

* * * * *

Bess and Rhonda drifted away together as well, heading for their first period class. Traffic in the hall was lightening up by then, and I found myself watching their butts.

I already knew that Rhonda was taller, thinner, and firmer than Bess. Rhonda had more pronounced hips, though, and her butt was more angular than Bess's. She had dimples in both cheeks at about a forty five angle and a smooth transition from the back of her thighs. She had two small dimples at waist level as well.

Bess's butt was softer and rounder, and she had a distinct crease between her butt and thighs. It bounced more when she walked, pleasantly so.

"It's not polite to stare," Therese chided me.

"Tell that to everyone in the whole damn school, OK?" I countered. "People stare at my butt every minute of every day. Want to know about yours?"

"What about it?"

"Well, it's nice. I like the way your waist flares out to your hips, without your hips being too wide. I like the way your crack flares into your back, too. How about me?"

"Well, aren't you the gentleman, throwing out compliments to the ladies?" Theresa shot back. "Nice butt, my ass! Yours is OK, though, except that it could be a bit more, um, muscular. But that'll probably change as those capsules from the clinic kick in."

"Gee, thanks a bunch," I told her, and then we both headed away for class.

* * * * *

After school Rhonda proposed stopping at a popular hangout named Sidney's on the way home.

"Are you nuts?" Therese objected. "Everybody in the place is going to be staring at us."

"How is that different from school, or anyplace else?" Rhonda countered, and then off to Sidney's we went.

As usual the place was packed. On the plus side, that meant not everyone got a good look at us. On the minus, there was a lot of jostling, rubbing, and bumping into. I tried convincing myself that no one was copping a feel or going for my bag but I still had suspicions.

"Dude, it takes balls to show up in public like that," commented some guy I didn't know.

"Or not," I replied.

"Oh, sorry. Look, my name is Nate. I didn't mean to poke fun or anything. My older brother went flat and now he just sits at home. I wish he had the guts you guys do."

"What'd they get him for?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing, ah, you know what I mean. I guess he wasn't gay but he still had trouble relating to girls. So one day he went down to the clinic and got himself done."

"Where, here?" I asked.

"No, we moved in from out of state. He went flat about a year ago and he's been sitting at home ever since. Maybe it would help him to meet some other flats."

"That's gonna be tough if he never goes out," I remarked, not exactly feeling a need to make house calls. "Maybe there's something at the clinic, like a support group or something."

"There is, but he calls it the Lonely Flats Club and refuses to go. How's that for irony?"

"Well, thanks for talking, Nate, but I gotta go."

"How do you do that?" Nate asked.

"Sitting down. No, seriously, Nate, I gotta stay with my friends."

"I'm thinking about it," Nate announced.

"What? Letting me go? Taking a pee? Hanging around with my friends?"

"No, going flat. I wouldn't be the only one now, and it might help my brother."

"Well, it's irreversible and it didn't work for you brother," I pointed out. "If any of us could go back, we would."

"Are you sure?" Nate asked. "I mean, the first couple of days you looked miserable, but lately you seem more relaxed. You might even like the attention now."

For a moment I wondered where he'd gotten that idea, but then I supposed he, along with everyone else, had been watching us at school.

"Don't try to read people's minds," I cautioned him, and then I slipped away into the crowd.

* * * * *

Rhonda was talking to a girl who'd apparently been surfing flat-oriented Web sites. Seth and Bess were explaining our new freedoms to a bookish guy with thick glasses. Another guy kept asking Therese about the flat lifestyle. Charlie was letting people look at him up close.

After about an hour somebody called the police. The cops took us outside, looked us over, and called the station for instructions.

"You kids are free to go," an officer eventually told us. "Indecent exposure relates to genitalia, and you don't have any. I guess you can go anywhere you want."

After the cops left Seth remarked, "At least most people have stopped asking, 'What happened to you?' and 'Why are you naked?'"

"Yeah, I've been getting more questions about plusses and minuses, and about what it's like afterward," Bess confirmed. "Could that many people actually be thinking about it? That'd be the weirdest thing yet."

"Maybe we're walking advertisements," Charlie noted, and then I began to wonder. Was going naked was really part of our punishment, or had the clinic put our parents up to it?

* * * * *

It hadn't taken much Web surfing to discover that we weren't exactly the world's first flats. Liberty Clinic was part of a chain and each clinic had a steady stream of customers. About half of them were punishments and most of those had to go naked. Those who'd voluntarily gone flat went naked to exercise their new freedom and show off what they didn't have.

Most sites agreed that flats spent a lot more time on sex-like acts than intact people spend on actual sex acts, and that included acts among family members and people who used to be the same sex. Being naked all the time probably contributed to that. And once your didn't have sex organs, nothing you did could possibly be sexual, right?

I spent the night alone because I really needed the sleep. Down the hall, though, Bess, Rhonda, and Therese seemed to be having a fine time.