Tami quickly showered and combed her hair. When she came back into the wing lounge, she was in for a surprise. The girls had set up a salon. There was the big round wicker chair, meant to be reclined in. Behind it Dawn stood with a collection of combs and highlighting gels. To one side Mayree sat with her nail files and polishes. Little cushions -- Tami recognized them as Mayree’s -- were set on each arm of the chair for her hands. In front, two of the lounge footrests were placed side by side for her feet. Around this arrangement sat Terri and Marisol, ready to assist. Tami smiled. This was going to be good! Dawn smiled and motioned for Tami to sit. “Come on, princess! . . . What color highlights?” Tami sat down, indeed feeling like a princess. She was also feeling daring. “Green!” “And your nails?” Mayree said. “I suggest kente colors for the Black Formal. Orange, red, black and green.” “Do it!” Tami squealed. And the girls went to work. This was exquisite. Tami had never had herself made up before. For a few minutes nobody spoke. Dawn and Mayree had organized their troops. Terri handed the combs and highlight cream to Dawn like a caddy handing clubs to a pro golfer. Further down, Marisol started filing the nails of Tami’s left hand while Mayree started on the nails of Tami’s right foot. “Tami, you have perfect feet,” Mayree said, pausing to hold Tami’s foot with the appraising air of an experienced professional, slowly turning the foot this way and that. “Look at this. Her big toe is perfectly in line with the side of her foot. The other toes are nice and straight. Her nails are wide and clear, even on the little toe.” Tami blushed at such close inspection.
“Her whole body’s perfect,” Dawn said, teasing Tami’s hair. “We hate you!” she said with a smile. “We hate you!” The other girls good-naturedly agreed. The girls continued their work. After a while Mayree said, “Actually it’s Wandabitch we hate.” The other girls nodded, thinking of their very unpopular R.A. Dawn said, “If Wanda went around naked and had your body, Tam, she’d be insufferable about it. She’d always be advertising to everyone know how perfect her body was.” Mayree got up. “This is Wandabitch walking around naked.” She minced there and back, swiveling her hips, batting her eyes. Then she leaned against the doorway, looking down at her body with a conceited look and then up at the girls with a self-satisfied smile. Then she lifted one of her breasts under her sweatshirt. “Bet you wish you had one of these,” she said in a husky voice. This was too much. The other girls burst out laughing, including Tami. The laughter quickly shut down into suppressed giggling as, lo and behold, Wanda herself walked in. She wasn’t alone. Behind her was a very tall, very blond girl who looked a bit older than everyone else, probably in her mid-twenties. She kind of looked like a model. But her eyes were downcast. She did not look happy. “Hi girls, this is Janice,” Wanda said. “She’s a cousin of mine who’s been staying in town. . . It’s warm in here, Jan, why don’t you take your coat off?” The blonde girl looked up, and, seeing Wanda’s stern gaze, reluctantly slipped off the long, stylish black overcoat she had been wearing. The five friends stopped their suppressed giggling and stared. The blonde girl had a beautiful, voluptuous body, as they could easily see because ninety percent of it was exposed. She had big breasts which were barely restrained by a white string bikini top. The top was so thin that the girl’s huge, brown nipples could be clearly seen through it. It was obviously several sizes too small; it just barely reached up to cover the silver dollar-sized aerolas. The cleavage was wide and deep. Further down, the girl’s shiny leather shorts were cut so low below the navel that it was surprising that no pubic hair poked out. There must have been six or eight inches of flat belly between the navel and the beginning of the shorts. And the shorts were so short that the bottoms of her butt cheeks were hanging out in back. Finally, she wore very high heeled, dressy sandals. It was way too cold outside for sandals, the girls all thought. Her feet must be numb! The blonde girl, holding her coat in the crook of her arm, was clearly embarrassed by her skimpy outfit. As Tami watched and saw Wanda’s sadistic sideways gaze, she got a familiar feeling. Then she realized it. She was like this girl. And Wanda was like Henry Ross or Dean Jorgon. For some reason Wanda was forcing this blonde girl to expose herself like this. The shock of recognition was creepy. Am I psychic? Tami asked herself. Could this really be true? Or is it a wild guess? Yet if it were true it would explain the weird interaction between these two. Tami realized something else. Here she was totally naked. She longed for even the few scraps of clothing this blonde girl was wearing. Yet the blonde girl was far more ashamed of her exposure than Tami was. Tami sympathized with the blonde girl’s feelings of shame; shame was a feeling that Tami Smithers was well acquainted with, in fact had more experience with than anybody on campus. But she was relieved to know that for once she was not the most shamed girl in the room. Wanda turned to Tami. “Getting all dolled up, I see. It’s about time they had a white girl at that Black Formal!” The way she said this made the naked princess and her attendants almost gag with distaste. They glared at her, making no attempt to hide their loathing of their R.A. “Janice has got to get to work and make the big bucks,” Wanda said, partly to her blonde, scantily-clad companion. “Bye folks,” she said. She was followed out of the lounge by Janice, who hadn’t said a word. The girls looked at the empty doorway silently for a few seconds. Each was thinking the same thing. What was this about “big bucks”? Was this girl a prostitute? She sure dressed like one! “That was weird,” Marisol said at last, getting back to filing Tami’s fingernails. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I really can’t stand that Wandabitch,” Dawn said, holding up a strand of hair so that she could apply highlighter. “Tam, do you want me to put braids on the sides?” “Yeah,” Tami said, still thinking of Wanda and Janice. Just then Jen bounded into the room with a small shaving kit. “O.K., Tam, spread ‘em!!” She knelt down at Tami’s feet, kissing her toes, one foot then the other. “What!” Jen looked up at her roommate. “Tami, you wouldn’t go to the Black Formal with your hair all undone, would you?” “Of course not.” “Well, look at this!” Jen pointed at Tami’s pubic hair with a comb. “Your hair is all undone!” “What?” Tami had a idea of what Jen was talking about but was trying to forestall the inevitable. “Tami, you are so innocent!” Jen laughed. “Dawn is doing up the hair on your head. But a lot more people on campus look at the hair on Tami Smithers’s pussy than at the hair on Tami Smithers’s head. Especially guys and dykes!” Tami blushed. Of course it was true. She thought of all eyes being fixed on her pubic bush as she walked around campus every day. She had sensed it many times. “She’s right, you know,” Dawn admitted. “So,” Jen said, brushing Mayree aside and carefully separating the footstools, “your public, I mean pubic, hair should be done up. . . Hmmm, I need room to work here.” Jen separated the footstools even more so that they were four feet apart. Tami was almost doing a split. Jen got into her favorite position, kneeling right in front of Tami Smithers’s pussy. Tami voiced a weak protest. “Jen . . .” Jen looked up at her naked friend. Her eyes were wide and pleading. “Please . . .?” Faced with these pleading eyes Tami just couldn’t say no. “Well, O.K.” “Good!” Jen opened her kit and got to work. “First I’ve got to comb it . . .” She ran a small comb over Tami’s pubic bush in long, even strokes. With Tami so spread, her pussy lips were clearly visible and were in fact slightly parted. Jen stayed clear of them but accidentally caught Tami’s clit. Tami’s legs twitched. “Ack!!” “Sorry,” Jen said. She continued on. She was obviously turned on by her work. “Mmmmm . . . yum!” Terri, braiding hair over Tami’s ear, said, “I know what you’re thinking, Jen. Restrain yourself. Not here.” “Damn!” Jen said goodnaturedly. The other girls giggled, causing Tami to blush. Apparently everyone in the wing knew that Jen liked to lick Naked Tami’s pussy. Jen took out a can of shaving cream. “How do you want it trimmed? A heart? Flattop? Mohawk?” These questions were so far outside Tami’s frame of reference that at first she was utterly unable to respond. Finally she said, “Do what you want . . . as long as it’s not too weird.” Tami then smiled, realizing that to her, anything about trimming pussy hair was weird. She then felt the cool/hot wetness of the mint shaving cream on her crotch. It was a strange, new feeling. Jen happily carefully went to work. Tami could feel Jen’s breath on her pussy lips and realized it was making her horny. What was this called? Classical conditioning? She thought of her Intro to Psych class. Pavlov’s dog, salivating when he heard the food bell ring. Here I am, reacting like a dog. A bitch. A bitch in heat. Tami chuckled to herself. I’m getting a real sick sense of humor. She lay her head back and relaxed. She was totally comfortable with her friends here. She kept running the words through her mind: a naked princess, being ministered to by her ladies in waiting. What kind of princess would be naked? Tami’s imagination took over. Maybe in a faraway country there was a Princess Tami who had to be naked by law. My body is so beautiful that it’s been declared a national treasure and I must remain naked at all times so that my subjects can always be blessed with the sight of its beauty . . . The low, authoritarian voice barked out. “Miss Tami Smithers?” Tami awoke with a start. The girls all looked up. It was Chief of Campus Security Burdick, hands on his belt, boots shined, wearing mirror sunglasses even though indoors, standing right in front of them, facing the naked girl with the widely spread legs. Jen had turned to see the campus security chief. In doing so she had moved to the side. Tami quickly glanced down and wished Jen had stayed where she was. She looked up at the security chief’s mirror sunglasses and could see her own reflection, which was distorted but clear enough to show that her open, spread pussy was totally visible to this intimidating uniformed law enforcement officer. She couldn’t see where his eyes were fixed but she just knew that he was staring at her open pussy, looking right up inside her. The officer had asked if she was Tami Smithers. Tami’s throat was dry at the knowledge of this new shame and she almost couldn’t get the word out. “Y - yes?” “I have a report that you were involved in an altercation with a --” he got out his notepad and checked it -- “Jamal Washington. . . Is this true?” “Oh God!” Marisol chuckled with outrage. “That butthole is filing charges!!” “I’m afraid so,” said the Chief with a stone face. “Could you tell me more about it?” Jen spat the words out angrily. “She was just fighting back. She was assaulted.” She looked up at Tami. “That’s the only way to put it.” The other girls agreed. “I’d rather hear it from Miss Smithers herself,” the Chief said sternly. “Miss?” He waited expectantly. Tami recalled her hot anger after being hit with the rubber band -- anger that had taken control and exacted vicious, but satisfying, revenge. In spite of her bashful posture she looked at the chief evenly and sharply. “Yes. He assaulted me.” “Where exactly did he assault you?” Tami felt a twinge of shame but her anger was enough to carry her through her answer. “He shot a rubber band at my . . .my butt.” Jen got more specific and clinical. “He hit her right on the anus while she was bending over.” Tami wished Jen hadn’t put so fine a point on it. She could sense the Chief’s eyes darting to Tami’s butthole, but knew that in spite of her wide open posture he probably couldn’t see that far down. The girls then saw the chief’s eyebrows lift behind his glasses. “Is that so. . . Stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.” The girls looked at each other as the boots clicked away down the hall. What was going on? Marisol went over and looked at the security car parked in front of the dorm. The Chief was inside, speaking in an inaudible voice to someone over his radio. Some students glanced at the car as they passed by. The Chief waited until they passed before he continued speaking. After a minute Jen returned to her task at Tami’s pussy hair, wiping away some shaving cream. The Chief reappeared in the lounge carrying a large plastic purple bag. “Miss Smithers, I am required to document the area of the assault by taking a photograph.” Tami’s eyes opened wide. Surrounded by the moral support of her friends she could summon some outrage at this man in spite of being naked and spread-legged in front of him. “Are you kidding me?!” She couldn’t believe it. This cop wants to take a picture of my -- my anus?! “It’s departmental procedure, Miss. I have no choice.” Marisol thought for a second. “He’s right,” she said. “This is a new policy Congi pushed through last year. Too many girls would file charges and then withdraw them because they were pressured by their boyfriends. By taking pictures they can preserve evidence so the charges could still be prosecuted.” She got up and stood face to face with Chief Burdick. Her huge breasts pressed out from under her sweater. The seams from the monumental 36FF bra could be seen clearly and almost seemed to poke him in the nose. “But it’s supposed to be a woman officer taking the pictures.” For a moment Burdick’s eyes, hidden behind the mirror glasses, darted between the Latina girl’s huge breasts and the naked girl’s open pussy. But he quickly regained his composure. “That’s normally true, to protect the, uh, complainant’s modesty. But this -- Miss Smithers has a religion that prohibits modesty, so that policy wouldn’t apply.” He looked evenly at Tami and cocked an eyebrow that was visible over his glasses. “That’s what I’ve been informed from the Administration. If you see a problem with this, I suggest you take it up with them. Meanwhile, I have my orders.” Tami heard those words and immediately knew the source. It was Dean Jorgon, telling Burdick that if she showed any sign of modesty to report it at once. She remembered that awful meeting in the Dean’s office, with the Dean holding his thumb and forefinger an inch apart and saying, “Miss Smithers, you are still this close to being expelled.” As she had reminded herself again and again, in a dozen ways being expelled would be the end of the world. Unfortunately for Tami, Chief Burdick was fully as sadistic as Henry Ross. He saw his chance and was thinking of how to use this situation to humiliate the naked girl to the utmost. Meanwhile Tami knew she had no defense. She said quietly, “It’s O.K., Marisol.” Marisol whispered hotly into Tami’s ear, “I know you don’t mind, but I still think all he wants is to get his jollies from looking at you up close.” Tami whispered back, “Let’s just get this over with.” She got up from her chair and stood in front of Burdick, arms at her sides, legs slightly parted, careful to show that she was not hiding any part of herself. But she could not look the man in the face. The girls could only see her beautifully formed naked backside, but from the Chief’s angle it was easy to see the hurt and shame in the teenager’s downcast eyes as they darted uneasily back and forth. “Where do you want to take the picture?” She had visions of the officer marching her to the Campus Security office for a degrading public ritual. It was a relief, but in a way more crushing, when the security chief looked around and said, “How about here? . . . This way your friends can see that it’s all legit,” he added, with a stern sideways glance at Marisol’s breasts. He set opened the purple bag and fished out a square flashlight and a small instant camera. He then looked up at the lighting and pointed to a nearby end-table. “If you could just, uh, get on this and position yourself, with your back to me to show the alleged, uh, area.” Tami almost started crying with shame. Her friends were right there. The officer was asking her to practically shove her butthole in their faces. But once again she successfully hid her feelings. Biting her lip, the naked girl got up on the end table and stood up, her bare butt facing the officer and her friends. Chief Burdick checked the overhead lighting and fiddled with the camera. He approached Tami so that he was almost at eye level with her butt. He looked through the camera while holding the flashlight to one side, then clicked the flashlight on, giving Jen, Marisol, Mayree and Dawn a brightly lit view of their friend’s butt crack. Tami knew what was coming. “If you could, Miss Smithers, please spread your, uh, alleged area so that the camera can pick it up.” To do this Tami had to anchor herself better, which meant spreading her legs. She inched her bare feet out so that her toes were curling around each side of the end table, then she bent over. She could feel her breasts lean to and fro as she moved. Her hands went to her butt, spreading the cheeks. Under the lighting of the lounge and the harsh light of the flashlight, her brown asterisk of an butthole was spotlighted, the center of attention for everyone in the lounge. Tami noted despondently that this was the third time she had been . . . like this. It must be the most humiliating position possible for a nude girl. The first time was during that awful sexual awareness workshop. The second time was voluntarily, though in desperation, in the office of Dean Jorgon. And now this. Tami cursed her sense of modesty that stubbornly refused to go away. Can’t I ever get used to these exposures?? Yet each time seemed like the first time. Her face, hidden from everyone’s view, was scarlet with shame. Tami took stock of herself. Has any girl ever been subject to so much shame and humiliation? Tami guessed probably not. Why me? She found herself praying again. Please God, I’m only a helpless, 18 year old girl barely out of high school! This is too much for a girl like me to take! Help me get through this . . . “A little more, please,” Chief Burdick said. His words yanked Tami from her prayerful state. She grimaced and pulled her butt cheeks as far apart as they would go. She felt the skin stretching at the top of her crack. The flashlight was very bright and lit her anal area far more was necessary for the camera. There was also the bright reflection from the snow outside. Tami could almost feel the heat from all this light on her most sensitive skin. The girls, standing no more than six feet away, could see every little detail of their friend’s most private area. They tried not to look but couldn’t help it. As she was standing there exposed Tami remembered to her shame that Dawn had seen her widely-spread anal area close-up once before, at the sexual awareness workshop. Jen had been there too, though Tami did not mind Jen’s gaze quite as much. But she could not suspect that Jen was very attracted, in fact turned on, by the sight. Tami had such a cute butthole! As for Marisol and Mayree, they looked at their naked friend’s butthole with a mixture of fascination and repulsion. Tami was thankful once again that when showering she was always careful to keep her entire anal area squeaky clean. “As you can see, there are no horrible rubber band marks,” Marisol said acidly. “Ma’am, I’m just doing my job,” the officer said nonchalantly. He snapped his picture. At the sound of the click the naked teenage girl flinched. It almost felt like the camera was violating her anally. That she had never experienced such a thing made the sensation all the more unpleasant and gut-wrenching. “You can get down now, thank you,” Chief Burdick said. Tami got off the table with stumbling steps and exhaled. She didn’t want to turn to look at her friends. But she forced herself to sit on the sofa silently, looking down, resisting the intense urge to cross her arms or legs. Her arms lay meekly at her sides, resting on the sofa cushion. The camera ejected the finished picture. Chief Burdick looked at it critically. The girls, right next to him, could see that it was a remarkably focused, brightly lit study of the anal area of a teenage girl. They looked at it with varying degrees of fascination or disgust. The chief sensed that he couldn’t get away with insisting on another, better picture. But he had more ways to humiliate the unfortunate girl. He knew that she didn’t want to look at the picture. So he forced her. “Miss, if you could point out exactly where in this, uh, area the assault occurred . . . Miss?” Tami hated every second of it. She went up to the picture of her anus. She had never looked at her anal area, of course, or anyone else’s. Now she was forced to look at a picture of it, along with her closest friends and a police officer. She could see the brown wrinkled bud in the middle, perfectly symmetrical, surrounded by a penumbra of brownish skin, fading away into her usual white clear skin up and down the shallow hairless valley. The bottom of the picture caught the beginnings of her pubic hair. To one side it caught the tip of one of her fingers as it helped stretch her butt cheeks apart. Tami took a deep breath and remembered the horrid sting of the rubber band on her most secret spot. It was horrible to have to say the words. “He got me ight in the middle, here,” she said, pointing to the exact bud of her butthole. She swallowed her shame. “Right on the exact, uh, sphincter then,” the Chief said, grinding the naked girl into her shame as hard as he could. “Miss?” “Yes!” Tami said, badly wanting to get it over with. This was horrible. With other girls it was the most private body part, never to be seen or even talked about. But the anus of Tami Smithers was always on display and was a subject of public conversation, the Chief referring to it as casually as he might refer to the nose or ear of another girl. “Well then, one more thing,” the Chief said, taking out his note pad again. “I’d like a statement to that effect for you to sign. Please tell me once again exactly what the assailant did to you and where.” Tami looked down in desolation. Her face was ashen. The girls thought it was at the memory of the outrage of what had happened, which was partly true. But also it was because of shame at having to repeat the words. “He shot a rubber band which hit me in the . . . on the . . . on the buttocks.” “Please be exact, Miss.” Tami sighed and tried it again. “He shot a rubber band which hit me on the . . . the a - anus.” She exhaled. It was over. “Very well, I’ve written that down. Please sign here.” Seeing the hated words in the Chief’s handwriting made it worse. It was like he was writing on her butthole with his pen. But Tami signed. The Chief figured there was nothing more he could do right now to humiliate the poor, naked girl. He would have to scheme a way to do more some other time. “Thank you Miss, I think that’ll do,” he said, putting away his note pad and putting the other things back into the purple bag. In a minute he was gone. Marisol said, “That was totally unnecessary.” “He was just following procedure though,” Jen said. Jen’s lack of outrage was motivated by the fact that she had found the whole thing very arousing. Also, she knew, as all the other girls did, or thought they did, that Tami Smithers had given up modesty and did not mind being asked to so expose herself. As for Tami, she wanted to erase the memory of what she had been through. She suddenly remembered that a moment ago she had been a pampered princess with loyal attendants. “Are we done yet?” Clearly they were not. Tami resumed her position, widely spread on her throne, and the girls went back to work. The girls forgot about Chief Burdick and went back to being girls doing girl things. Dawn and Terri were highlighting and braiding Tami’s hair. Marisol was carefully painting Tami’s fingernails. Mayree was carefully painting Tami’s toenails. Jen was finishing up her work on Tami’s pubic hair. Soon their work was almost finished. “The nails are done,” Mayree said proudly. Tami looked down at her fingers and toes, wiggling all twenty digits. The nails were all striped orange, green, red and black. Mayree said, “Watch,” and went over to turn off the lights so that the room was in darkness. Darkness, that is, except for the stripes of Tami’s nails. The nail polish was fluorescent! The girls squealed. Tami wiggled her fingers and toes again. “This is so cool!” Clothed by the darkness, Tami got up and ran around. She did some gymnastic moves, high kicks, cartwheels, then a slinky twist. Tami had never been a good dancer but it didn’t matter. The circling kente-colored stars of the glowing nails moved like magic. It looked like an invisible spirit dancing in the African night. The girls clapped and cheered. Mayree turned the light back on and asked Tami to sit down again. “One more thing.” She produced two shiny toe rings and carefully fitted them on the second toe of one foot and the third toe of the other. Tami’s feet were bare yet now fully dressed. “And I want to show you something,” Jen said. She spread Tami’s legs back onto the widely parted footstools and produced a small mirror. Tami could see that her ussy hair had been sculpted into an inverted “V”. It looked like a diamond. Strange, yet also oddly formal and elegant. “Nice,” Tami said, kind of actually meaning it. The girls’ attention was diverted by the hard sound of shiny black shoes. It was Rod in his tuxedo, complete with cummerbund, bowtie, ruffled shirt, striped pants, and a scarf and black coat, black gloves poking out of one pocket. His shiny black scalp was newly shaved. His wire-rimmed glasses were still slightly fogged from the cold outside. The naked, spread-legged girl and her fully and formally clothed date looked at each other in wonderment. There was also a strong feeling between them that seemed not far from love. All the other girls could sense it. “Hi,” Rod said at from a dry throat. He was overcome with lust and wonder at the sight of such a beautiful, done-up naked woman, and the knowledge that this was his date for tonight. “Hi,” Tami said from her spread-legged throne. With his fogged glasses Rod looked nerdy but cute. He really was adorable. Rod held out a small gift-wrapped box. “This is for you, date.” Tami reached forward and said “Thanks.” “Open it! Open it!” the girls squealed together. It was another ankle pouch. Not like the one Heather had gotten for Tami after Thanksgiving, which now seemed so long ago. This one was of shiny black leather and looked very luxurious. Tami recognized at once the ingenuity of the gift. Rod obviously could not buy her anything that could be worn, thinking that would be against her religion. Instead he had thought of ankle pouches, which he knew she had no problem with. And the one he got was very, very nice. “It’s beautiful! . . . Where did you ever get it?” Tami said in awe. “At Kuyper’s,” he said, referring to a pricey store in town. “Excellent!” Jen said. “Good move, Rod.” “Smart one, too. Tami must be a hard person to buy stuff for,” Terri said, causing the others to chuckle in agreement. Everyone knew exactly what Terri meant. Tami closed her legs and bent forward to put the ankle pouch on. It fit perfectly over her left ankle. She rotated her foot from side to side, showing it off. “Nice,” Marisol said. “Very Tami,” said Mayree. The girls laughed again. Tami got up and hugged Rod. “Thank you so much,” she said, holding him tightly, feeling his shirt and coat rough and warm against her bare skin. The embrace went on and on. A couple of the girls then said, “Woooo -- ooooo!!” When the two finally separated Rod said, “Are you ready, babe?” “Almost,” Mayree said. “Why don’t you wait in the main lounge. Five minutes.” “Five minutes C.P. time?” Rod said. “No, five minutes,” Mayree said. Rod blew a kiss at Tami and left. “That guy is smitten!!” Jen said. “I’ve never seen him like that.” “Let me look at you,” Mayree said. Tami stood upright as the girls surrounded her. Mayree turned her around. Tami bit her lip as they carefully and minutely appraised every inch of her naked body. She was shamedly aware that brushing against Rod’s tuxedo -- or was it something else? -- had made her nipples hard. The girls all noticed this at once. “God, your body is perfect!” Dawn said. “Look at that flat tummy . . . tight butt . . . nice legs . . . and those boobs that don’t sag without a bra!” “Are you turning into a dyke?” Jen teased. “No, I’m just jealous!” Dawn said. She smiled at Tami. All Tami could think of was Dawn looking up at her after seeing the inside of Tami’s pussy during that workshop. Then Tami almost flinched as Mayree delicately but firmly held up one breast and turned the nipple to and fro. “Something for these. . .” She got a makeup brush from her bag and flecked some red rouge on one nipple and then the other. Tami smiled. “That tickles.” Tami’s erect nipples were now a bright red. Mayree said, “And now . . .” With another brush and a cup she scattered silvery sparkles over the tops of Tami’s breasts. Then, after a moment’s thought, she went around and sprinkled some more sparkles across the tops of Tami’s butt cheeks, giving Tami an unexpected chill. “Finished!” Mayree said proudly. “Turn around and show us. Go to the mirror in the hall.” Jen took her roommate by the hand and led her out to the hall. At the end of each hallway was a full length mirror. Tami could see herself from far away gradually getting bigger as she approached, nakedly walking in front of her her friends. She was a sparkling, elegant, nude princess. She stopped at the mirror and looked herself in the eye for a silent moment. This is my fate, she told herself. To be always naked and beautiful and on display. Her dark red hair was streaked with green and braided on the sides. It made her look freaky and wild. Tami noticed that the girls had not bothered to put on any lipstick or facial makeup. Instead they had done things to emphasize parts of her that would be covered up on the other girls at the dance. Toe rings, rouged nipples, trimmed pubic hair, sparkles on her breasts and butt. In short, the salon job had only served to call attention the fact that she was naked. Still, Tami could not deny that she looked pretty damn good -- for her friends. She wished nobody else had to be around to see. But of course, she was about to go out in public, to a campus dance yet. “Thanks, guys,” Tami said, turning to hug each of her friends, being careful not to rub the rouge off her nipples. She then excused herself to go to her room and put some things into her new ankle pouch. She went downstairs and entered the main dorm lounge. The memory of the awful sexual awareness workshop flew from her mind as she saw her tuxedoed Prince Charming. She found herself blushing from head to toe under his worshipful regard. She smiled and turned herself around for him. “You are beautiful, babe,” he said almost reverently.