Hyacinth in the Mountains

 

a Blanke Schande story

 

       

         “Hi roomie!”  Sarah’s big tanned boobs almost filled the driver’s window, her erect brown nipples practically sticking Jessie in the face and seeming to bounce halfway to Hyacinth, who was curled up in the passenger seat of Jessie’s little Taurus.  The shy freshman, who had been half-slid down to the floor out of sight with her arms across her breasts, decided she should get with the Blanke Schande College program now that they were on a BSC campus, and slowly sat up, with a great effort putting her hands to her sides and even bravely squaring her shoulders.  Showing modesty was against the rules, though Jessie, her assigned “Buddy” and suite-mate, was very forgiving of Hyacinth’s struggles to overcome her shyness, a shyness she never knew she had until she signed up for this crazy college where female students had to be naked at all times.

 

         Crazy, but it worked.  This was a real college with real courses, professors, grades, lectures, though looking around in one of the lecture halls at all the clothed guys interspersed with the naked girls, hair draped over bare shoulders, breasts jiggling almost imperceptibly on their chests as they took notes, here and there bare feet splayed up on the seats in front, even their pussies in full view under their notebooks and laptops -- Hyacinth felt like she was in a dream, some alternate universe invented by a horny guy in which the girls were just eye candy without any thought to how they must feel if they had to be naked 24/7.

 

         Yet the girls were happy, or at least most of them; the ones who couldn’t take the nudity, and who went crying to the counselor’s office with their hands over their breasts and crotch, had dropped out during those first rough weeks.  Now in mid-October it seemed that Hyacinth, at least, might make it through.  She still longed for clothes, and kept torturing herself by going to that corner of the library where the girls congregated to read romantic novels of women dressed in lavish finery.  Most of all she hated “presenting” on request to any guy who asked.  But all the other girls were naked too and were in the same boat.  Plus, she always had her suite-mates to run to and to hang out with, especially Jessie, who was like a big sister.  She loved hanging out at night in the suite watching TV with them, all lying together on Jessie’s bed, a tangle of legs against arms against boobs against butts, feeling the bare female skin all around her.  Though none of the four girls had any lesbian tendencies, the feeling was just heavenly, better than the fluffiest blanket.  The girls were together in nakedness, a powerful bond forged between all the BSC women which enabled them to go on.

 

         So even though she never met Sarah before, she recognized the extra twinkle in the brown eyes of the big-boobed girl as she smiled at her.  Hyacinth couldn’t help but smile back as she straightened up further.  Making any motion to cover oneself was against the rules, but Jessie hadn’t said anything while Hyacinth had cowered during that drive through town, this little cowboy town way up in the corner of the state, after that long, long ride up from the balmy beachfront world of the main BSC campus.  And of course Sarah wouldn’t report anything either.

 

         “Hi, Hy!” Sarah said, that little joke that Hyacinth had always been used to.  “My old roomie tells me you’re into the program, kind of.”  She extended her hand, her boobs hanging over Jessie’s lap.  Jessie grabbed them as if they were grapefruit that she was considering buying.  “I think you’re getting bigger,” she said.

 

         “It’s the mountain air, it makes everything grow,” she said, clasping Hy’s hand, as if oblivious to her breasts being squeezed at the same time, an attitude which was yet another thing that the new girl was having a hard time getting used to.  Then she said something even stranger.  “In chem lab the guys ask to weigh them before class on that little sliding scale.  I’m up to left tit 1.3 kilos, right tit 1.2.”

 

         They were just outside the admissions building on the edge of this little campus.  This was after driving along a winding road through a redwood forest, passing the occasional guy and (naked) girl walking up or down.  Two guys now passed by, openly gawking at the scene, as Sarah, to keep her balance, stuck her foot out behind her and her toes almost brushed against one of the guys’ backpacks.  Jessie and Sarah seemed to pretend the guys weren’t there.  Hyacinth was glad it wasn’t her breasts that were being grabbed and discussed!

 

         “Can I get a lift?”  And then Jessie giggled as Sarah hopped onto the hood of the car.  And turned around on all fours and kept talking.  Hyacinth sat there open-mouthed as the car cruised up through a rustic little village of classroom buildings made up in log-cabin style.  And then there was the dining hall.  Students walking around, and older types who must have been professors.  And all the female students naked. . .  Was it some kind of admissions policy, or the constant exercise and “erotocize” classes, but why was every female so beautiful in both face and figure?  Or maybe it was something else, something in the mind . . .

 

         Hyacinth had finally gotten used to this type of scene at the main BSC campus, but to see it played out in a new setting it was like this was some kind of alternate universe that she had entered through a different door.  She had heard the campus was expanding, and sure enough there was a dug out pit and some workmen -- and a naked girl, covered with dust -- carrying stuff in and out.

 

         Jessie, the most sober and sensible of all the BSC females, was bemused as Sarah, a “wild woman”, proceeded to live up to that reputation.  “The guys’ dorm is to the right, the girls are on the left, it’s smaller of course, no closets . . . You’re really going to like going up the mountain with Wendy Mac and Hank, they’re so cool, Wendy’s a real superwoman, don’t mind the others, they’re O.K., too bad you can’t go Jess . . .”  And all this time as she spoke through the windshield, her big boobs bounced crazily here and there as the car trundled slowly over the rocky path.  Many of the guys, especially, stopped to look and Hyacinth thought of the sight being presented to them: the butt of a naked girl coming at them on top of a car.  “Presented” indeed.  Sarah was showing her pussy and butthole, “presenting”, to the whole campus.  As for Jessie, she could only smile and try to keep an eye on where she was driving.

 

        .    .    .    .

 

         Maybe it was the crisp, sun-filled mountain air that filled her lungs and made her feel so alive and sights so vivid.  Or the soft scented carpet of pine needles that felt so good beneath her feet after stepping on all those stones.  But Hyacinth just couldn’t help smiling as she looked up at Wendy Macalester -- or “Mac”, as the girls called her -- dancing up the high vertical rock face on the single rope.

 

         Hank was standing next to her in his big hiking boots and climbing outfit, holding a coiled rope and various climbing implements, and he was smiling too as he watched his girlfriend, naked and unadorned with any equipment, prance up away from them.  “Beautiful, isn’t she?” he said, clearly in love, and in a way so was Hyacinth, admiring the skillful and strong girl as she bounced off the rocks, her toes grabbing an outcropping here, then splaying the other leg to grab another outcropping there, as if she were upright and dancing happily on moon in one-sixth gravity.  The muscles of her tanned shoulders and butt worked quickly and gracefully, moving deceptively fast and pretty soon she was up, up, way up onto the top of the cliff, then she disappeared.  A moment later, having undone the grappling hook and tied the rope securely so as to take all of their weight, she reappeared, on hands and knees so all they saw was her head and her taut, brown breasts.  Her yell of “come up!” pierced easily through the quiet clean air.

 

         Scott, Ahmad and Tommy came up behind and now all eyes turned to Hyacinth.  “You first, Hy,” Scott said, maybe too eagerly.  “That way we can spot you.”  Hyacinth’s face burned with shame.  Yeah, right.  And also look up at my crotch.  Scott wasn’t really a bad guy, but was a pimply gawking type who was doofy and mostly likely a virgin, probably quite an accomplishment here at Alturas where, it was joked, the girls had a reputation for being horny all the time and wearing the guys out.

 

         Hyacinth felt Scott’s breathing on her breasts as he helped Hyacinth into her belt and cinched it tight around her thin waist.  And then up she went.  She had never scaled a rock face before, but it turned out not to be so hard.  She was used to climbing ropes in her daily body conditioning course, and this was much easier, with part of her weight on her feet.  Her soles weren’t as tough as Mac’s but it didn’t hurt at all as she went from one rock to the next.  She knew she was being looked at by the guys who were following below.  Fortunately when climbing rocks, she was told, looking down is not a good idea.

 

         When she got to the top it was just her and Mac, naked women on top of the cliff and maybe on top of the world.  She felt the moment lost when Scott lumbered up and stood behind them.  Ahmad, originally from Syria, came up next, a shy guy.  Then Hank, who went to stand over next to his girlfriend.  And finally Tommy Chen, exhuberant as always, saying, “I love this place. . . Where now, Four O’Clock?”

 

         “Four O’Clock” . . . she had heard some of the guys call Mac that.  Odd nickname.  The tanned athlete, pretty tall anyway but standing higher than the rest on a rock, pointed to a steep, rocky rise that ended with a grove of pines on top.  And off they went.

 

         It was pretty rugged hiking, and then it turned into climbing  -- “bouldering” -- as they scaled from one rock to the next.  The girls, not carrying any equipment, just their naked selves, climbed crablike on spread arms and legs and found it easier going than the guys, pulling away ahead until Tommy complained.  “This isn’t exactly fair, you know.”  Which was a good point, so Mac and Hyacinth each strapped a backpack on, one strap just under their breasts and the other across their taut midriffs, leaving the guys with just carrying the ropes and climbing gear.

 

         Hyacinth grunted as she hefted herself up onto another rock.  This backpack was heavy, though in her improved physical condition it was no big deal.  Up ahead of her Mac seemed impeded not at all.  And with the benefit of toes to grab with and no clothes to hinder them the girls seemed to be at an advantage.  Except for the shame, that is.  As Hyacinth spread her foot out to grab another rock, then spread the other foot the other way to grab another, she was blushingly aware of her pussy opening slightly and the air hitting her inside and also her butthole.  She knew Scott was staring right up inside her.  And looking at her anus!  She just never could get used to the idea, of her most private place being constantly on display in public, always looked at.

 

         As she hefted up again she looked up at Mac, whose crotch was equally widely spread.  Even Mac’s pussy lips looked strong, somehow.  And her butthole.  Mac paused for a moment unexpectedly and Hyacinth found herself right under her.  She couldn’t help but look, in a kind of morbid fascination, curious as to what guys would look at.  Mac had a little birthmark just above the wrinkled little asterisk, and another a little off to the right and down.  Four O’Clock!

 

         The shaming ordeal ended with all six BSC students up on the high land, looking into a grove of trees.  Mac knew the way and the rest followed wordlessly.  Hyacinth felt the hotness in her face but the blushing went to the back of her mind as she took in their surroundings.  The sun was hot on her shoulders and the soft wind was bracing as it brushed her nipples and filled her nostrils, sticks warmed by the sun cracking underneath her bare feet.  To the side, she saw the land fall off and a great vista of crags and hills that went on for miles, in the far distance the great grey figure of an immense mountain.  She had always thought the ocean and beach were beautiful, but this!  She had an odd urge to stand there and raise her arms out and pray, thanking God -- maybe thanking “Gaea”, that Earth Mother Goddess a lot of the BSC females had gotten interested in -- for such beauty.  Maybe she would have done that if she was alone, but then she heard the guys’ big hiking boots behind her.  Maybe another time.

 

        .     .     .     .

 

         Hyacinth carefully nibbled at the burnt marshmallow, then got her mouth around it and gulped it down, leaving just a gloopy white trace on the stick, and leaned against Wendy Mac for warmth and carefully put her dusty feet a little closer to the fire.  She looked at the big tent appreciatively, looking forward to burrowing into one of those sleeping bags they’d brought.  It was chilly already, even though sunset was still maybe an hour away.  An occasional wind kicked up and stiffened her nipples and raised goosebumps.  Of course, they had ended with marshmallows.  Hyacinth loved the smell of wood smoke and she looked at the grill where they had cooked ears of corn and hot dogs.  If only she had clothes.  Being naked she felt so vulnerable out in the elements like this.

 

         On the other side of Mac was Hank, trying to negotiate a triple marshmallow that he had overcooked and was threatening to fall off the stick.  As he did this Mac’s toes caressed his hiking boot.  These two were always showing some kind of affection.  Hyacinth was jealous.  She hadn’t had a boyfriend since high school and though there were some fine guys at BSC, she couldn’t imagine getting together with someone, with her being naked all the time.  It was almost like trying to run a race when you were already at the finish line, the guy already knew everything about you, at least on the outside.

 

         “Let’s go for a walk,” Mac said, grabbing Hyacinth by the hand.  The others looked on as the girls got up and walked over a little hill and out of sight.

 

         It was then that Hyacinth said, “It’s too cold.  Let’s go in the tent.”

 

         “Nonsense.  Just keep moving, you stay warm that way.”  That’s what the Alturas women always said when they were asked about it at the BSC main campus, it had become a cliche.  So, hugging her hands, watching where she put her feet, Hyacinth tried to keep up with Mac, who seemed to know no other walking speed except fast.

 

         Mac angled this way and that through a stand of trees and then went through a clearing and then into another stand and then another clearing, with Hyacinth trying to keep up.

 

         It was a little circle of trees, almost perfectly round as if planted that way.  And tall thick shrubs.  When Mac came to them she turned and waited.  Hyacinth felt the late sun on her body and she was warmed by the fast walking, her arms now dropped to her sides as she came up.  Mac took her by the hand and they made their way between two of the shrubs, feeling them scratch against their breasts and thighs.

 

         They were in the middle of a circle of stones with a big flat stone in the middle.  Out of the sun, the stones were cold against their bare feet.  In fact it was impossible to see out of this place, the shrubs were so thick all around them.  Above, the trees formed a circular canopy, the only place they could see out was directly above at the deep blue sky, amazingly dark blue even though it was still daytime.

 

         Mac held Hyacinth’s hand as they both stood on the round flat stone.  “Welcome to Tami’s Clothes.”

 

         “What?”

 

         “That’s what they call this place, Tami’s Clothes.  I know, it’s like too weird.  Nice though, right?”

 

         Hyacinth looked around.  “It’s like a . . . like a church.  No, more like a . . .”

 

         Mac shrugged.  “I’m not exactly spiritual, but there is something about this place.”

 

         “It’s like . . . no one can see us.”  She and Mac looked at each other.  They both laughed as she said it, thinking the same thing.  “Like this is our clothes!”

 

         They calmed down and stood there, hand in hand, for a long time silently.

 

         “Who made this place?  It can’t be just . . . natural.”

 

         Mac spoke slowly.  “It’s just a story, but supposedly there was this girl named Tami who had to go to college naked all the time.  I don’t think it was Blanke Schande, some other place.  Except she didn’t sign up for it like we did, they forced her to do it, she didn’t want to be naked.  I don’t know how that could happen, but when she got older she created this place so that any girl who had to be naked could come here where she would be covered and no one could see her body.”

 

         Hyacinth smiled.  “You’re right, that is just too weird. . . But it is nice to be here.  Even if there were guys right out there they couldn’t see us.”  She looked up at her athletic friend.  “I’m not like you, I go through every day wishing I could have clothes.”

 

         “No, I want clothes too.”  The two looked at each other.  “That’s right.  I think any woman is like that, any normal one.  Every day I fight the urge to grab the shirt off the next guy who passes by and put it on.”  She was quiet for a moment.  “Don’t tell Hank that, O.K.?”

 

         Hyacinth thought for a moment and ventured a guess.  “Fighting that urge is what makes you strong.”

 

         Mac looked down at their bare feet, then looked at Hyacinth’s pussy.  “I didn’t mean to tell you that.  That’s another thing they say about this place.  It makes you always tell the truth.”

 

 Hyacinth hesitated for a moment, but it really seemed like the right thing to do.  She drew Mac toward her and gave her a full body hug, skin against skin, warmth against the increasingly chilly air.  They stood there for a while.

 

         Mac stood apart, still holding Hyacinth’s hand.  “Time for the little ritual.  You should be initiated.  Go like this.”

 

         Hyacinth, curious, watched as Mac stood straight up, face to the sky, arms stretched out and up.  “Please God, give me clothes.”

 

         Mac’s eyes were closed as she kept looking up.  In another setting Hyacinth would have thought this ridiculous and stupid, but not here.  She took the cue, arms out, face up.  “Please God, give me clothes.”

 

         Mac continued.  “Please God, make the earth and sky my clothes.”

 

         “Please God, make the earth and sky my clothes.”

 

         “It is the prettiest dress I ever wore.”

 

         Hyacinth felt strange saying this.  “It is the prettiest dress I ever wore.”

 

         “Thank you God.  Amen.”

 

         “Thank you God.  Amen.”

 

         Mac put her arms down and took Hyacinth’s hand again.  “Corny, right?  Some women like to say ‘Gaea’ instead of ‘God’, but that would be just too much for me.”

 

         Hyacinth smiled.  “I agree.”

 

         “Let’s go.  Gotta keep warm.”  And Mac jogged off, shooting through the shrubs.  Hyacinth followed her, braving the scraping branches, and they ran back to camp.  Hyacinth glanced back at the little grove.  Such a silly little initiation, and yet the more she thought about it, she had to concede being pulled back there . . .  Now she turned around and huffed mightily and the two naked girls laughed as they turned the trip back into a race.

 

        .     .     .

 

         It gets dark quickly in the mountains after the sun goes down.  By the time the two naked BSC women got back to the camp site it was also getting seriously cold.  Hyacinth was glad to see the tent flap open, with pairs of hiking boots set outside.  Inside there was a little electric lamp and warmth.  And, of course, the guys.

 

         This was a pretty big tent, big enough to hold all of them easily.  Yet as Hyacinth took her place sitting cross-legged next to Mac she was intensely aware of the close quarters and the intense stares by Ahmad, Scott and Tommy on her breasts and her pubic hair, clearly visible.  She longed to cover herself but that was against the rules.  As for Hank, he was laid back as always, holding Mac’s hand as they all sat in a circle.

 

         “How do you like it up here?  Rugged, you say?” Ahmad said.

 

         Hyacinth smiled and blushed.  He was being polite but still staring at her.  She couldn’t help but notice the large bulge in his pants and dreaded the prospect of it getting stiffer and more obvious.  “Cold,” she said.  “But beautiful.”

 

         “Not half as beautiful as you are,” Tommy said.  The new girl found herself blushing again.  What a sweet thing to say!  Yet also an open acknowledgement of her nudity.  “Thanks.”

 

         Now an ominous clearing of the throat.  And now Scott said, “I’d like you to present for me, please.”  He cleared the space in the middle of the tent.

 

         Hyacinth’s heart froze for a second, but then she saw that he was looking at Mac, sitting tall and tanned and strong and so invincible looking.  With a poker face Mac shifted over to the middle of the circle, then lay back and spread her legs.  Each bare foot extended to the edges of the tent in between Hank and Tommy on one side and Ahmad and Hyacinth on the other.  Then she lifted her pelvis seemingly right up into Scott’s face.

 

         Scott bit his lip and was entranced.  Mac looked up at him but he kept his eyes fastened on her slightly opened pussy lips.  After a long moment he said, “Thank you.”

 

         But Mac didn’t close up; she increased her exposure, bringing her hands around and spreading her lower lips further with her fingers.  Now Scott was faced with a wide open vagina, a hole gaping open at him that he fervently longed to put his penis into.  Mac undulated her hips and pushed herself even further into Scott’s face, only a foot away now.  A faint scent of female whiffed through the tent, and all four penises responded to this natural signal within the cramped quarters of their respective pants.  “N - no, that’s enough, th-thank you,” Scott stuttered.

 

         “Have some mercy, Four O’Clock,” Tommy said, only half-jokingly.  And with a little smile Mac brought her hips down and retreated cross-legged to where she was sitting before.

 

         This scene puzzled Hyacinth.  She was still puzzling when Ahmad said, “I would very much like for you to present to me.  Your face is beautiful and I am sure the rest of you is too.”  Hyacinth steeled herself.  She knew this moment was bound to come.  With a little glance at Mac, who gave her a reassuring look, she scooted over to the middle and was ready to lie back when he said, “No, the other way.”  Damn!  He wanted to see her butthole!  Not that he wouldn’t see her pussy too.  Feeling awkward in her nakedness, all breasts and butt and bare feet, Hyacinth turned around and got on all fours.  This was a well-practiced pose, along with the rest of the standard presenting postures Professor Reddy had the girls go through to begin each “erotocize” class, but Hyacinth always felt awkward doing it “in real life”.

 

         “Spread open, please.”  And now she rested her head on its side and reached back to spread her butt cheeks.  Though the electric lamp did not provide much light Ahmad would see every wrinkle of her butthole up close, the stretched skin between it and her pussy, every little pussy hair at the bottom of her pussy, the beginnings of her lower lips, then the lips themselves.  She prayed there would be no female scent like with Mac.  And now she looked back at him, part of the prescribed routine.

 

         Fortunately he didn’t make eye contact, staring at her lower crevice appreciatively.  But now came another request.  “May I spread your buttocks further?”

 

         The college rules prohibited nonconsensual touching.  But this was a request occasionally made.  The request had to be specific about what was going to be touched and how.  The female had to answer affirmatively; no answer was to be understood as a refusal.  The rules were very clear about that.  Hyacinth looked up at Mac.  Again the small reassuring smile.  Well, it wasn’t like he wanted to stick his finger in there.  Hyacinth cleared her throat and said, “O.K.”

 

         She felt the hands gently push her butt cheeks apart further.  She let go with her own hands and folded them under her turned face.  Ahmad pulled and stretched Hyacinth’s buttocks this way and that, and the girl felt her sphincter tugged in different directions.  Halfway through, Tommy leaned over to look.  A little draft of cold air came in through the slightly-open tent flap and Hyacinth felt it hit right on her sphincter, which clenched reflexively, no doubt to the great interest and attention of the two guys.  She closed her eyes, bit her lip, trying to hold down the intense shame.  This was the lot of any BSC girl: to be naked all the time, and to have her most secret parts on display and examined closely by any guy at all.  Naked and not being able to do anything about it, totally in these guys’ control.

 

         But now she opened her eyes and looked up at Mac, strong and undefeated.  How could she be so?  Her thoughts were interrupted by Scott, who said, “Mac, I’d like to see you like that too.”

 

         The athletic girl got on all fours opposite Hyacinth; in the cramped tent this meant that her face was right next to the other girl’s.  And she stuck her butt up toward Scott’s face.  Scott didn’t ask to touch her, content just to look as Mac spread her lower cheeks.  No one spoke.  There was heavy male breathing, the stirring of hard dicks within undershorts.

 

         Mac turned her face and the girls were face to face, each looking upside down at the other’s eyes.  Hyacinth blinked and her eyes got a little wet as the two naked girls looked at each other in comfort and commiseration and with another feeling, a feeling Hyacinth had felt when lying together with her roommates and a feeling that was in the twinkle in Sarah’s eyes, a feeling of . . .

 

         The moment was over when all four guys seemed to say at the same time, “Thank you.”  Ahmad let go of Hyacinth’s cheeks.  The two girls got up and folded their legs, going back to their spots.

 

         Then Scott said impulsively, “Could you two do a sixty-nine for us?”

​

         Mac glared at him.  “NO.”

 

         Scott said, “Oh, come on.”

 

         Mac looked at Hank, who was already looking at Scott.  “Hey, man.  Give it a rest.”

 

         “No really.”

 

         Mac shrugged and reached over into a corner to get a rolled up sleeping bag.  “No offense guys, but we’re going,” she said, and before Hyacinth knew it she was being dragged outside into the freezing black night.

 

         God it was cold!!  Hyacinth stumbled at first as Mac, the bag under one arm, pulled her farther and farther into the night.  Her bumped against unseen rocks and stepped on pointy clumps of brush.  She looked back at the lit, warm tent, the shadows of the guys’ heads, realizing that a minute ago one could have seen the shadows of her and her naked friend presenting, and then the tent got small and went out of sight as Mac turned into a stand of trees and then up a little promontory and down the other side.

 

         Hyacinth crouched and wrapped her arms around herself as Mac unrolled the sleeping bag with one motion and unzipped it while still in the air.  “Mac, it’s freezing!  This is crazy!”

 

         “Actually it’s probably a few degrees above it,” Mac said.  “Don’t worry, this bag is rated to twenty below.”  She flung it onto the ground and opened the end.  “Hop in.”

 

         Hyacinth dove in to the sleeping bag, and though the silky waterproof fabric was a little cold, it was better than the freezing air outside.  She curled up into a ball, holding her freezing toes in her hands, but then moved over as Mac slid in next to her.  This bag was pretty roomy.  The two girls hugged each other for warmth, arms around each other, legs intertwined, the wonderful, precious feeling of full body skin against skin that all BSC women learned to treasure.  Hyacinth’s face lay in the nape of the taller girl’s neck.  She was conscious of the fur of their pussies resting against each other, becoming one tangled female forest.