“presenting”

  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 computers, a kitchenette, and a bathroom with no door and an open shower.

Jessie reached out to hold Hyacinth’s hand.  “I know it’s hard,” she said.

“It’s not hard, it’s im - possible,” she said, grabbing Jessie’s hand but punching the other one down onto the mattress.  Then they could see her clench her butt and she closed her eyes.  “Clothes, please God, I want clothes, something to put on.”  She looked down at her bare feet.  “And shoes.  And socks.  Please, I want to be covered up again.”

“You have to hold on,” Ruth, one of the freshman roommates, said.  “You have to stick it out.”  Not that all did; one reason Blanke Schande admitted four women for every man was that almost half the women dropped out during the first semester.  Hyacinth had heard the testimonials of graduates, and had read that the women who graduated from Blanke Schande enjoyed phenomenal success once back in the “real world” of clothes.  But graduation seemed impossibly far away.  Right now, all Hyacinth felt was shame and panic.  She clutched the pillow more tightly, technically an improper covering up but something which Jessie had discretion to overlook.

“I c - can’t do -- that again,” she said.  “Especially not my -- my butt.”

“Yes, Hy, it was crude,” Jessie said.  “I heard about it.  The man is supposed to be polite when he asks you to present.”

“I don’t care about crude or polite anymore,” Hyacinth said, becoming a little more calm.  “I want out.”

Her choice, Jessie knew.  Yet what an opportunity she would be missing by dropping out!  It was like any homesickness by a freshman the first couple of weeks away, you had to acknowledge the feeling but urge that she stay.  Jessie had an idea.  “Why don’t we work on it.”

“She said she wanted out,” said Kristin, the other roommate.

Jessie gave Kristin a stern look.  “That’s her choice, but right now she’s so upset.”  Then looked at Hyacinth again.  “I have an idea.  Why don’t we -- ”  Wait, too fast.  “Why don’t we have some salad and juice?  And chicken soup.  Definitely chicken soup.”  Lunch, something normal.

While the sobbing girl stayed on her bed the other three padded around the kitchenette and set things up.  In a minute Hyacinth had been coaxed up and the four of them sat and ate around the table, feeling their bare butt cheeks against the cold metal folding chairs, their bare toes absently curling around the chair legs.  The food was good even though it was all low-calorie; with the steady diet of low-fat food, combined with the many exercise/sports classes the female students were required to attend, the nude quartet were in the best physical shape each of them had ever been in.  Even Hyacinth would have to concede that.

“My idea,” Jessie said, “is for us to help you present.  I’ll -- I’ll do it first.  On the table.”  At the sight of eyes rolling, Jessie said firmly, “I mean it!”

Things were cleared away and Ruth was assigned to be the “guy”.  She stood up and looked at Jessie sitting across from her.  They all knew this was a little hokey.  Ruth smiled and in a low grunty voice said, “All right, bitch!”

Some giggling.  “No come on, really,” Jessie said.  No guy would get away with that.

Ruth took a deep breath, her bare tanned breasts rising and falling.  Then she opened her eyes, getting into the mood.  “I would like you to present for me, please.”

Jessie slowly and carefully got up onto the table, her toes brushing past the other two girls right and left, and sat cross-legged, looking up obediently at Ruth.  Then she leaned back on her hands and spread her legs, each bare foot sticking out in the room, giving a clear view of her pussy, slightly opened.  “Is this how you want it?”

“No,” Ruth said, using words she had heard several times.  “Please turn over.  And spread your butt cheeks so I can see all of you.”

Jessie, wanting to imitate the average freshman’s shame, bit her lip slightly and then slowly turned over.  She put her face onto the table top, reached back and spread her lower cheeks.  As she looked past Hyacinth she gulped and stared at the far wall in a convincing portrayal of mortification.

“Spread more.  You have a very cute butthole.”  Ruth leaned forward, exhaling into Jessie’s lower crevice.  Jessie pulled her hands apart more, stretching her wide rear valley with the coffee-colored orifice in the center.

Ruth felt that this was enough.  “Okay?” she asked Jessie in a stage whisper.

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” Ruth said, the usual signal that presenting was over.  Jessie turned around and sat back up on the table top cross-legged.  “You want to try it, Hy?”

Hyacinth looked down at her breasts and crossed her arms over them.  “We did this same thing during class,” she said, referring to the compulsory Anatomy and Movement (“erotocize”) classes that all female students had to attend.  “It’s just different doing it for a -- a guy.”