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Sarah Wickland, Esq.

The character was invented by Peter (Leviticus) for one of his stories (“The Rent”, I think) and he let me borrow her.

This is from Part 26 of “Coming to the End”. She also shows up in “‘Tami Smithers Was Here’” and “Butterfly”.

“Good afternoon, Miss Smithers.” The quiet but firm voice echoed through the dungeon-like room and caused Tami to jut her head up with a start. She craned her neck and, looking past her breasts and tummy, saw Ms. Wickland’s face behind her bare mound of Venus, her nose visible through the cleft of her parted pussy lips. From the naked girl’s foreshortened perspective it looked like Ms. Wickland was giving her head. Intensely conscious of the shamed view she was displaying, Tami put her head down with a metallic thud. “Go away, please, go away, I don’t want you to see me -- like this!” she said, almost tearfully.

Ms. Wickland did not go away. Instead, she said, “I’ve been sent by the college.”

Tami looked up again, and became aware of the lawyer’s meticulous dress, the gentle smell of her perfume. How desperately she wanted clothes, wanted freedom. “Then please get me out of here, please! These guys are evil!”

Almost as if to flaunt her possession of clothes, the lawyer preened herself, straightening her sleeve. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. We’re not in Campbell County any more, the college had an arrangement with the town police and the local sheriff, but here we’re out of their jurisdiction. In fact, the authorities here would resent it if the college tried to throw its weight around. After all, you were walking naked on their highway, and they think you should be punished.”

Tami looked at the lawyer through her open pussy lips. She dearly wanted to at least close her legs. “Then at least untie my feet, please?”

Ms. Wickland pursed her lips. “Again, I’m afraid I can’t. They only agreed to let me down here if I promised not to do a thing to help you. . . Besides, I thought showing your, uh, private parts was O.K. with you,” she added with a tight little smile. She looked down and it was obvious she was giving a close look to Tami’s butthole and her open pussy. “You’ve agreed to show this much to many people. In fact you’re famous for it. I think your anus, especially, is very attractive.”

Tami exhaled in anger at this snotty lawyer, jealous of her clothes and freedom. She glared through her pussy lips and said, “I did NOT agree to THIS!” Her voice was iron. “Get me out of here! This is -- ” she realized she might be overheard and started whispering -- “this is an outrage!”

Ms. Wickland nodded. “True.”

The two heard footsteps and saw the sergeant coming down the stairs. He stopped right next to the lawyer and they both looked straight into Tami’s open pussy.

“We had to punish her because she wouldn’t put on anything. She wants to be naked. Well, this is what she gets,” the sergeant said.

“She is a religious nudist. She has a constitutional right to be naked.”

“Yeah, right. I don’t know nothing about that. It sounds ridiculous to me. Maybe at the college they go for that, but Hank won’t buy it for a minute.”

“Who’s Hank?”

“The judge. Her hearing’s going to be next Tuesday, unless she pays the fine. She’d better wear something then, or Hank’ll cite her for contempt and back in here she goes.”

During this exchange the two of them were looking absently at Tami’s private parts. The naked girl shut her eyes in frustration as she heard them discuss her fate. She was nothing but an open pussy and anus. . .

Suddenly showing a sense of legal duty in front of this lawyer, the sergeant broke his study of Tami’s pussy to look up (slightly) at her face. “Miss, you have a lawyer?”

Tami exhaled hopelessly. “No.”

“I’ll be her lawyer for now, if she doesn’t mind,” Ms. Wickland said. Tami nodded.

“Okay then, you can keep talking,” the sergeant said to the lawyer, “but she stays the way she is. I’ll make sure no one comes down for the next few minutes.” Without saying goodbye the sergeant went back up the stairs.

Ms. Wickland watched him go and then turned back to Tami, who had craned her neck again to see the lawyer’s face. “Anything you want to say?”

Tami thought for a moment. “What about the class field trip? Did they go looking for me?”

“As soon as the sergeant called us we got Dabby on his cell phone. He . . . apologizes for what happened.”

Tami swallowed. Had this arrest been a setup? Would Dabby really do this to her?

“Tami,” Ms. Wickland said.

“What.” Tami was not really in a mood to talk unless it concerned getting her out of here.

Looking between the cleft of her pussy lips Tami could see the lawyer raise her eyebrow and shift her eyes to Tami’s face and then to her open pussy. “You’re feeling quite shamed right now, I bet.”

“I don’t like being tied up. . . I didn’t agree to this!” Tami repeated.

Ms. Wickland fixed the naked teenager with a steady gaze. “Tami, you’re spread wide open, I can see right inside your vagina, and also right into your anus. And you’re naked. As always. You haven’t had a scrap of covering for practically the whole school year. Except, of course, for when you were being driven to orgasm after orgasm right in front of everyone with that outfit the Chalfont crowd designed for you. Is all this O.K. with you?”

Tami averted her eyes, then rested her head down. The lawyer started pacing, waxing almost poetic. “Bitter cold, snow, everyone nice and warm in their boots, mittens, coats, all except for Tami Smithers, freezing her bare bum off, her bare feet almost frostbitten as she walks through the tundra. Is this O.K. with you?

“Poked and prodded, attacked by dildos, sawing in and out of both your front and your rear, bringing you to orgasm in front of a bunch of leering men. And put on tape. Remember that photo that was up on the bulletin board the other day?”

Tami’s face burned with shame. She had gone up to the math building board, wondering what all the commotion was about, and then froze in utter shock. Right up there, a xerox of a grainy black-and-white photo of her face, obviously taken from the camera in Lab 6. Her eyes were bulging right out at the camera in surprise and horror. Above, someone had hand-written, “Tami comes for the 12th time!” Below, someone had written, “Go Tami!” She had quickly retreated in shame, wondering why the “powers that be” hadn’t taken that horrid photo down immediately. Later, during a class, she excused herself to go to the bathroom and ripped it down. That night, she found it hard to sleep, realizing that practically everyone in that building had seen that picture, knowing they would be thinking of it the next time they saw her.

“And then there are the daily art classes, there goes Tami spreading her legs again, see her pussy, see her butthole, ‘see how she the very much likes to show her most private parts most pretty’,” the lawyer continued, mimicking Professor Brignon’s French accent. “And Congi, who doesn’t know any better, having you demonstrate oral sex for her trainings!

“Teased by bio majors, forbidden to even put blankets on your bed -- face it Tami, this is all a scheme. The college is trying to break you. See this?” Ms. Wickland took off her black high heel pump and brought it up to where Tami could see it. “Isn’t this a pretty shoe? Wouldn’t you love to wear it? Wear nice pretty shoes and nice clothes? But no, Tami is a nudist, Naked Tami, Tami with the bare pussy on full view at all times, Tami with dirty bare feet, sweating on the treadmills like a beast of burden in front of grubby workers and all sorts of visitors, no clothes, no covering, no modesty at all.”

The naked girl was filled with terrible longing for covering by this little speech and was now close to tears. Ms. Wickland knew everything and knew the truth about it as well. “Why are you saying this?” she said in a quivering voice.

Ms. Wickland put her shoe on and said calmly, “Because I know the truth, Tami. I know you got trapped into declaring you’re a nudist. In fact you’re not. You’re very modest. I just can’t comprehend the tremendous amount of shame and humiliation you’ve experienced the past few months. Look at you, even your hair is getting gray. You can’t take it much longer. You’d LOVE to put on any little thing, you CRAVE the tiniest bit of covering, you’d KILL for it by now!”

Tami started sobbing. “Please stop.”

The lawyer cleared her throat. “Some friends and I have decided to help. We are developing a legal strategy that would allow you to wear clothes again, and not get expelled.”

Tami quickly swallowed her tears and held her breath, suddenly hanging on every word. “What?”

“Just what I said. Call it the ‘Give Tami Clothes Coalition’. We know the truth and we know the tremendous suffering you’ve gone through. We want it to end. BUT . . . we need your help.”

Tami looked guardedly at the lawyer, who had now cocked her head downward so that only her eyes showed above the naked girl’s smooth, bare pussy lips. This, too, might be a trap. Only 8 more days. . . She decided to take a little chance and say, “What are you talking about?”

“We need testimony. We need you to give us statements under oath. Details about what they’ve done to you. Basically the whole story of how you got trapped and how they’ve been abusing you.”

Tami remembered what Wanda had said: the college wanted an admission on tape that she had been streaking that first week of school as a lark, so that they could expel her. This sounded like more of the same. Tami rested her head down again on the metal cabinet and looked at the ceiling. “No. I -- I’m a nudist. It’s not true.”

“Tami, we care about you. Here’s my card again,” the lawyer said, getting out her card and, realizing Tami had nowhere to put it, reaching through the bars and placing it on the cabinet near her butt. “We’ll keep track of you. We can get you clothes, Miss Smithers, but only if you cooperate.”

After a few seconds of silence Ms. Wickland said, “I’ll call my office and make arrangements to get you out of here.” She raised up her fist and, almost playfully as if chanting at a protest rally, said, “Give -- Tami -- clothes! Give -- Tami -- clothes!”

Tami exhaled. “Thanks.” And in a moment the lawyer was gone and the naked girl, lying on the cold metal cabinet with her legs stretched out and her bare feet tied to the bars, was left alone to think.

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