She closed her eyes and felt her stomach twist with shame. Mr. Nedrow and the others followed Novotny under the spread-open, naked girl. She involuntarily clenched her butt cheeks, feeling another film of ice cracking in her pussy with the same motion. “Please relax, Dareen,” Novotny said. Dareen bitterly resented him calling her by her first name. But in the name of national security she relaxed her buttocks. She felt the clouds of the men’s breath under her on the sen

Now the line moved up and Tami went up to the other step she hated, the one where everyone could see her pubic hair. It had grown fluffy and abundant in the open air. Jen, who was gay, worshipped it, kissed it every chance she got. She wanted Tami to have it colored! Tami supposed she should be flattered but it was only another reminder of her nudity. Relax, she told herself. I’m going up to eat dinner with my friends. Not undergoing those humiliations Wanda and the De

“O.K., it’s traffic time! Construction on I-90 west of the Elgin exchange going eastbound. The accident on U.S. 14 at Ridgefield has been cleared. Illinois Route 31 at P - Prairie Grove has been shut down due to f - flooding. All operators of commercial vehicles are advised of the new regulation as t - to engine b - braking in residential areas. This is the Illinois Highway Authority station KR12CS9, operating at 530 kilohertz. . . O.K., it’s t - traffic time! Construct

Martini in one hand, cigarette in the other, standing in a foot of snow on this winter night, Mitzi is explaining Isaac’s plan to Sarah Landau. They have walked out to the edge of the rise, overlooking a downward slope and then a clutch of trees. The others are in the house. It’s one of Isaac’s dinner parties. “Isaac will clear away that part, next to that big rock, then put in a brick grill.” She sweeps wide with the hand holding the cigarette. Then she takes a puff, t

It took a while to lose them, those men who had seen Tami’s roadside doings and then kept following the black Cadillac, hoping for more. McMasters got off an exit, then drove around some back roads, then got on the interstate, fortunately not getting lost. “I’m hungry,” Wanda said, putting the remote control down and stretching with insolent laziness. McMasters was hungry too. Time to eat. “Tami, you hungry?” he said, looking over to the squirming, dirty girl in her vibra

“G - got - to - be - k - kidding - mmee - ohhh!” The blonde guy (prospect no. 3) was so obviously phony in his attempt at bad ballad singing that Tami’s appraisal was echoed by the TL’s. “You got that right, mi amor,” Rosaria said, looking sideways at the TV as she plunged her tongue deep into the pink cave between the lower lips that she was spreading with her fingers. “He’s better than number 1 though,” Myra said, sitting next to Rosaria, bending forward to suck one of t

Minutes taken 10/1/09. “Next order of business, Ms. Kleinfelter’s proposal for a modification to the Tunemasters Uniform.” “My proposal,” she said, untying the accordion folder and fishing out a stack of papers, “is to modify the lower half of the majorette uniform. This is called the ‘Petra Red String’, though of course it will be in the school colors, white on the right side and black on the left.” The papers, drawings of the proposal, were

Prudence has brought the posters, Kathy the markers. The four girls are having a snack in the dining room when Mr. and Mrs. Fairweather come downstairs, all dressed up, already in their coats. They are as tall as their daughter and, like her, carry themselves like African royalty. Mrs. Fairweather wears an ornate headdress which seems to almost touch the ceiling. “That whole family makes me feel inferior,” Prudence admitted once, and she was not alone. “I see you are wel

It was an exhibition hall which somehow sprouted up out here in the Gobi desert, perhaps as the centerpiece of a planned city which never got built. Some limousines parked around, and a helicopter pad. It was not that large inside, about the size of a high school gym, with five rows of stands around the periphery and a wraparound balcony. It was well-lit, big windows above bringing in the bright though bleak surroundings, a chilly and windy landscape even in summer. Sir G

The sobbing girl sniffled and shook her head, her messed up blond hair stiff with dried tears. “I’m -- not going out there again. Not w - without clothes.” She looked up at the empty closets, doors open. It seemed cruel to have closets in this place because no girl had any clothes to put in them. The washing machines downstairs were a waste too. And that was not the end of their lack of privacy. This suite was just four beds in one big room along with desks and compute

Then the Princess reminds them: “Gentlemen, the agenda item is obtaining funding for distribution of my film.” They apologize. Then Mr. Korkan says the obvious: “To get serious funding we have to find a way to stoke outrage”. They all know what that means and there seems only one way to do it: set forth, in the starkest terms possible, the abuse that the Princess was subject to during her long ordeal. They put on record that Mr. Korkan will be asked to interview the Princ

An internet search reveals that no one has ever used this name, despite its brevity. But I can't claim originality -- I saw it long ago as graffiti on a water tower. “Nooo!!” The naked teenager twisted wildly, but could not shake loose from the strong male hands pulling her to the railing. It had a low bar for kneeling and reminded Tami of in church where she used to go for communion during Mass. But what a sacrament she was about to receive! The row of ornamented tail

This is the ending of “The Adventures of a Naked Girl in Love”. An early effort, but of all my Tami stories I still like this one the best. Three hours later, Tami Smithers ran down onto the street and started her freezing run for Pilgrim Hall, clutching in her hand the photo of her and Rod taken at the dance. She figured it would take less than a minute to get to her dorm. With her first bounding jumps she laughed as she heard the loud vaginal farts as air escaped from h

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

Hank smiled as his girlfriend approached, tan and lithe and tall and purposeful and serious as always, though with a smile and a nice little wet kiss on the lips for him. For the tall dark-haired girl with the neat short pony tail it was time for her afternoon sprint. Wendy Mac was now captain of the track team and had been put in charge of training others. Two companions in sweat clothes and sneakers clumped along behind her in the wet snow, Tommy Chen, who had just made

It was, as I say, an uncomfortable journey. Like everyone else I was glad to get back to the Palace and shower myself off. The rooms here, though small and not equipped with modern conveniences like electricity or telephones, are quaint and comfortable. Despite the culture’s general disapproval of alcohol there is a well-stocked bar in an alcove hidden next to the front hall, one assumes for the convenience of foreigners. I chatted with the bartender, who is originally fr

They were lucky. All the practice rooms were empty. He led her into the one in the back. Each room was tiny, with room for maybe three chairs and stands. They all had windows, but at least the one in back seemed more secluded. “Here,” he said, nervously placing a sheet of music on her stand as she assembled her clarinet. He had stayed up late writing it, in his overly neat music notation. It was a passage from “You Make Me Feel Brand New”, off one of his father’s CDs.

On this pleasant, sunny, gentle spring day in the academic quad of Campbell - Frank College, right after lunch time, students were passing here and there on the way to classes. To one side, Rockley Hall, the social sciences building, a modernistic white marble geometric shape with clean lines and dark recesses which on closer inspection turn out to be windows; to another side, Ashley Hall, the humanities building, a much older brick and ivy affair with a small statue of Shak

Tami knelt on her haunches, arms around her knees, trying in a useless effort to expel the horrid intruders in her pussy and ass, escape from the bristles torturing her poor nipples. “Please . . . please . . . ” McMasters coldly offered a hand and helped her up. “Very good,” he said, pointing to the little indicator over her clit. Tami looked down at it, defeated. It now said “2”. A minute later, gasping and feeling weak, the girl was squatting on the gyno table, l

McMasters got the box from off the back of the gyno table and said, “Insertion of the retainer is something that you are best off doing yourself. There’s a tube of lubricant in here. Probably the best way is to sit onto the rectal dildo and then wrap the retainer around and insert the front one.” Intensely conscious of the men’s close attention, the naked girl squatted on top of the table and laid the retainer panties out so that the white rectal dildo was standing straigh