Tami, fashion model

Lab 5 now contained a gynecologist’s table, complete with extended stirrups.  McMasters was waiting for her there, along with an older man who looked more like a dentist than a doctor, wearing a short white shirt.  To one side sat Mr. Zipkin.  Tami sighed.  Weren’t there any women working here?  Just men.  Not that it would make it any less shaming.

       “Hope you had a good rest, Tami,” McMasters said.  “Everyone was very impressed, and of course we owe it all to you.”

       Tami ignored the irony of being thanked, and stood naked in front of these men, resisting the urge to cover herself with her hands, an urge which she hoped by now would have been suppressed.  She could think of several sarcastic remarks but knew she had to play it straight.  “You’re welcome,” she said deadpan.

       “We still have an hour left on your schedule for today, so we are going to try on the retainer and the bristle bra,” McMasters said, taking a large box from Mr. Zipkin and putting it on the rear of the gyno table.  Tami wanted to clench her buttocks and close her legs; she didn’t want anything else being shoved into her today.  And what did this guy want to do, wear me out?  She tried to remember what the electronic counter said.  What was it?  14 orgasms?  Are they trying to make me come to death?  Was that possible?

       Tami’s thoughts were stopped cold when McMasters then said, “Of course, to prevent chafing, your pubic hair will have to be removed.”

       Tami’s hand automatically went to her pubic bush and she touched some of her lower curls.  “W - what?”

      “Your hair will just get in the way.  Mr. Redl here is a surgery prep assistant.  It’s his job to shave people about to go in for surgery.  Don’t worry, he’s an expert.  Just get up on the table and put your feet in the stirrups.  It will only take about five minutes.”

       Tami looked at the gyno table with alarm, then glanced at Mr. Redl’s kindly, wrinkled face, then back at the table.  What had already been done to her today had been bad, but she at least had been told about it in advance.  This was a total surprise.  Shaving off all her pussy hair?  She had read of such a thing, maybe in a magazine somewhere, and remembered it sounded grotesque.  Even when Jen talked her into having her pubic hair trimmed before the Black Formal last winter, it was strange and a shocking suggestion.  Then Tami thought: can they do this to me?  She remembered the agreement she had signed.  It didn’t say anything about shaving my pussy hair off .  .  .

       “Miss Smithers, please, get up on the table,” McMasters said, a little impatient.  Then, detecting Tami’s hesitation, he said, “Is there a problem?”

       “Well, I .  .  .  “

       McMasters said in a dark tone that was unusual for him, “Is it that you want to stay .  .  .  covered?”

       Could she take a chance and say no?  Of course McMasters would report her refusal to the Dean.  Was this a sign of modesty?

       “Miss Smithers, if you want your vaginal area to remain outside of people’s view, I will of course coordinate with the Dean.” McMasters was speaking in code, maybe so Mr. Redl wouldn’t detect anything odd.  But to Tami his message was very clear.  She gulped and got onto the table, saying in a quivering voice, “It -- I just forgot, that’s all.”

       Mr. Redl had gentle, soft hands, and it was hard to object even though he was extending Tami’s legs wide, wide, wider, finally inserting each bare foot into its respective stirrup.  The stirrups were set at maximum spread, far more than would be necessary for a normal gynecological exam.  Tami was almost doing a split, like that time in the dorm lounge, helping Professor Congi with that workshop on sexual health.  Then Mr. Zipkin took out a little backrest, like part of a chair, from under the table and pushed it against Tami’s back.  It fastened to the sides of the table.  Tami was now sitting almost straight up, her legs up and out, each stirrup just two feet or so to each side of her face, a limber position possible only for trained gymnasts like her.  She tried not to look down but couldn’t help it, as Mr. Redl got out scissors and a cup of water and shaving cream.  And a little plastic razor, like she used to use to shave her legs, back when she had such amenities.

       For a second the only sound in the room was the snipping of scissors.  Tami watched with desolation as her lush curls fell away bit by bit.  At least they would grow back.

       McMasters was back to his old, courtly self.  “Miss Smithers, can I get you a coffee?  You could probably use one, after what you’ve experienced.”

       Now that he mentioned it, coffee was exactly what Tami wanted.  Also, it was something normal.  She wanted to do something normal.  “Yes, please,” she said, looking forward to a few minutes from now, when she could come down from this spread-open position and drink coffee like a normal person, or at least like a normal naked person.

       But in a minute McMasters returned with coffee and gave it to her as she remained extended up on the table.  She looked uncertainly down at Mr. Redl, who had clipped her hair down to a buzz cut and was applying the shaving cream, the hot wetness of which made Tami flinch.  McMasters told her, “Go ahead.” Tami found herself sipping coffee casually while her pubic hair was being shaved off.

       “Hi, I thought you’d be here,” a familiar old voice said.  It was Dr. Harridance, coming in with a coffee of his own.  “Good to see you, Tami.  How are things?”

       The three men, Harridance, McMasters and Zipkin, were standing casually in front of Tami, chatting with her as if the three were co-workers on a coffee break instead of one of them being naked, spread wide on a gyno table as her pussy was being shaved.  Tami was so disoriented by the unreality of this situation that she said the first thing that popped into her head.  “Well, for someone who’s just had fourteen orgasms, I’m all right.” Which caused all the men, even Mr. Redl, to laugh, and Tami to blush.  Did I really say that?

       “I’m afraid you’ll have a few more today, I hope you won’t mind,” McMasters responded jovially.

       Tami took a sip and shook her head.  Then Dr. Harridance asked about her classes, and Tami found herself actually engaging in small talk.  She chatted with Harridance and McMasters about the weather, they told her about the great impression she had made at the Chalfont Banquet, about the article by Harridance that was about to be published, then she talked about the academic format of citing articles she had learned in her extra credit math research .  .  .  all the while the men stood facing her, idly glancing at her spread pussy as shaving cream disappeared under the gentle scraping of the razor.  Finally Mr. Redl wiped the excess cream away and Tami was completely bare.  Well, almost.

       As she put her coffee cup down she followed Mr. Redl’s instructions to get up on all fours and spread her butt cheeks.  The feeling of camaraderie quickly went away as shame took over.  It was always horrible to show her butthole to everyone like this, and the coffee sippers looked at it, front and center in the bright light of the lab, as Mr. Redl applied one more bit of shaving cream to remove the few remaining hairs at the bottom of Tami’s pussy, next to her perineum.

       After he finished there he got Tami’s feet back into the stirrups for the final once-over with a wet cloth.  Miss Tami Smithers now had a totally smooth, hairless pussy.  She looked down in spite of trying not to.  It looked like she was eight years old again.  This was an uncomfortable, creepy feeling.  The newly uncovered skin was very sensitive and she could feel tiny drafts in the room.  As well as the stares of the three men, and then of Mr. Redl, who got up and stood right in front of Tami, hands in his pockets, looking at her pussy appraisingly.

       Satisfied with his work, Mr. Redl acknowledged McMasters’s thanks and gathered his equipment and left.  For a moment there was an air of expectation as the naked girl continued to sit up there with her legs stretched up and out.  Tami figured it was time to get down but she knew she had to wait for someone to tell her.

       Instead, Dr. Harridance said, “Fine specimen, Zipkin.  Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

       Zipkin nodded, and said, “I think the’re in now.  “

       Then, to Tami’s horror, McMasters got behind the table and let loose some kind of brake.  The table was on wheels, and he was pushing it outside into the hall!  Zipkin opened the big double doors and Dr. Harridance, leading the way, said in his amiable voice, “Tami, if you don’t mind, we’d like the ob-gyn committee to see this.  You would make a great demonstration model.”

       As the table went out into the light and hustle and bustle of the hall, displaying the naked girl with her legs splayed out and up, the students passing by turned and froze into a sea of staring eyes.  The gyno table was big and the hall was narrow, so students had to move out of the way, which they did reluctantly.  It was certainly one of the oddest sights ever seen in the Chalfont Institute, as Harridance walked alongside, telling people to make way, and Zipkin and McMasters pushed from behind.

       The naked girl’s mouth was open in shock and she couldn’t breathe.  She couldn’t believe this.  The urge to cover her pussy with her hands was intense, but she knew to do that would be sudden death.  Instead she grabbed the sides of the table next to her hips with a white-knuckled grip, her eyes unable to completely hide her feelings of shame and shock.  To the newly naked sensitive skin of her pussy the drafts of the hall felt like arctic blasts, and she knew without looking that her lower lips were widely parted as she felt the drafts shoot inside her and curl around, chilling her most secret place.

       The strange convoy turned a corner into another hall and Tami met with the astonished looks of more students, white-coated geeks all, who quickly trained their eyes right at her gaping hole, looking right up inside her. Then the naked girl was rolled out into the main lobby, and for a horrible moment she thought they were going to roll her outside and parade her around campus.  She had an image of her leading a parade down a main street, people cheering her opened pussy, taking snapshots of it, with a big picture of it on the front page of the next day’s newspaper .  .  .

       Thank God for small favors.  They weren’t going outside, just turning into another hall.  As Tami blinked back tears of shame, she found herself being rolled through an open door into a small meeting room, where six men in suits were sitting.  They looked up in amazement and Tami saw them staring, of course directly into her pussy.  One of them, an older man with a gray handlebar mustache, finally caught his breath to speak.  “Harridance!” he said, at first with outrage, then turning to a smile and finally laughter, “what are you -- Good God -- this -- this must be Miss Tami Smithers!”

       There were smiles all around the table.  Dr. Harridance moved away a chair and Tami was rolled up to the edge of the table as if the gyno table was her seat.  The men stood up and reached over to greet her, saying they were glad and honored to finally meet her, and Tami finally extended a bewildered hand crossing in front of her upraised leg to shake their hands, certainly the oddest entrance she had ever made into a room.

       The men were nice and made genuine, affectionate eye contact, but also quite naturally looked down at the obvious center of attention.  When they were all seated again, Dr. Harridance said, “Tami, this is Dr. Haufenstedt, chairman of the ob-gyn department, and this is the faculty ob-gyn committee.  Doctor,” he said, addressing the man with the handlebar mustache, “you were talking about the need for better illustrations for your classes, and here you have it.  We just shaved Tami as part of our experiments, and it’s amazing how easily you can see the external anatomy without pubic hair.” Bracing himself by grabbing the naked girl’s bare, upturned foot, he leaned around her leg and pointed to the little bare mound above her pussy, and up and down her lips.  Tami didn’t want to look down.  She just kept a neutral expression focused on the opposite wall.

       The doctors looked appraisingly at her opened pussy.  “This is very impressive,” Dr. Haufenstedt said.  “I never saw the mons venus in such a way.  Dr. Isadore should be told about this too, this girl has excellent musculature.  .  .

       Dr. Haufenstedt then looked up at Tami’s face.  “Miss Smithers, I wonder if you could be available for a demonstration at our ob-gyn class. Of course, you would be compensated, and we’ll work it around your schedule. Also, Dr. Isadore teaches a class in kinesthiology and would like to point out various muscle groups.  You would be ideal.”

       Tami felt her face blush red.  After all the shame she had been through she thought she had forgotten how to blush.  “Well .  .  .  “ More exposure, more being put on display so that more guys could look at her private parts .  .  .  will it ever end?

       Dr. Haufenstaudt nodded with a kindly, old-man air.  “I know, this is abrupt.  Think about it.  I know you are a busy young woman and an exceptional student.  I don’t want us to interfere with your studies or your other work with the Institute.  Let me know, though.”

       Tami said softly, “O.K.,” being aware once again of carrying on a conversation with her legs spread out and her pussy open and in full view. She knew, though, that any refusal would get back to the Dean .  .  .

       “Thank you, doctor, and thanks, Tami, sorry about this little jaunt,” Dr. Harridance said, and turning the table around he and his assistants rolled Tami back out into the hall .  .  .

       The ride back to Lab 5 was even more shaming -- classes were changing and lots more students were walking around.  Professors too, most of whom seemed to know Tami, and in fact she remembered some faces from the banquet. She heard “Hello, Miss Smithers” about ten times as smiling, courteous faces greeted her as she rolled by, only momentarily glancing down to her spread, wide-open, bare pussy.  Hands clutched behind each hip onto the edge of the table, the spread-out naked girl managed a diplomatic smile and nod as she returned the greetings, trying to preserve her dignity by imagining she was a nude princess on a royal procession, even as she felt the cold drafts blowing around inside her gaping lower cavity, so recently opened for almost an hour by the Godzilla dildo, and now so cruelly stretched and put on display.

       Dr. Schnitzler, a distinguished and imposing figure in a three-piece suit, walked by.  “How are you, Miss Smithers?” he asked, extending his hand.  Tami crossed her hand up over her leg and found her hand being kissed in the doctor’s elegant, Old World style.  “I must say, I’m surprised to see you like this,” he said, briefly glancing down, “but I know you are very busy here.  Are they treating you well?” he said jovially.

       McMasters coughed absently.

       “Y - yes, very well,” Tami said quickly, bringing her hand back to clutch the table behind her, leaving her pussy achingly open and exposed. “Everyone is very nice,” she added bravely.

       “Well then, I hope not to detain you, but, well .  .  .  “ The Director’s voice lowered a bit.  “You remember Herr Remmler from the banquet?  He is, shall we say, not very well.  He lives in an old house just outside of town.  A few of us were hoping to visit him to cheer him up. We thought in light of the high regard in which he holds you, you might join us.”

       “Oh.  “ Tami indeed remembered the bent old man, his little speech that flattered her and Rod so much, that amazing painting of her that was unveiled .  .  .  She was sorry he was ill.  He was very old.  Was he dying? Clearing her throat, momentarily almost forgetting her bashful pose, Tami said, “I’d be glad to.”

       “Thank you very much Miss, we’ll pick you up.  I’ll let you know when,” Dr. Schnitzler said, then with a wave to Dr. Harridance and the rest, he went on his slow, benevolent, distinguished way.

       Tami quickly drew air between clenched teeth as the table rolled on, past the gazes of students and professors.  It was almost a relief to be back in Lab 5, a relief tempered by the knowledge that the retainer and bristle bra were waiting.  Tami’s feet were finally taken down from the stirrups and she was allowed to work out the kinks in her muscles.  This meant hopping down onto the cold tile floor with the slap of bare feet and waving her arms and legs around, crouching and standing up again, knowing the men were intently watching every inch of her skin and muscle.

       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 straight up from its reinforced base, with the tan vaginal dildo flopped forward.  She carefully positioned her butthole over the lubricated dildo head.  Not wanting to look down, she looked forward at the wall with a frozen expression.  Her breathing was nervous and shallow as she crouched lower, lower, then felt the cold tip against her butt.  She reached down and held the dildo with one hand as she gently and carefully guided it to her wrinkled brown asterisk, then slowly lowered herself onto it.  It slid in, inch by inch, opening her ass ring. Because she had been so recently reamed with a larger object, it was not painful, merely uncomfortable.

       And of course, very shaming.  The men crouched down in front of her, with Mr. Zipkin behind, watching intently as the white plastic slid through and stretched open her brown ring.  To voluntarily insert a dildo in her butt while others were watching was a shame that she had not experienced before.  Every time Tami thought she had reached the ultimate in exposure and humiliation, something new happened which shamed her anew.

       Tami closed her eyes and gulped as her bottom met the panties.  The dildo was all the way in, with that strange invasion feeling she got whenever something was in her butt, feeling like it was about to pop out of her throat, though she knew it was not as big as the dildo on the machine. Then she dutifully brought up the front dildo, the one with the little bump at the base which was supposed to press against her clit.  She could not avoid looking down now, and gazed at the weird sight of her plump cleft, white and tender, so recently denuded.  Hidden from the sun all this time, the skin there did not have the all-over tan glow of the rest of her, and its paleness made her cleft stand out even more.  Hating every second, Tami spread her pussy lips with one hand as she pointed the dildo inward and upward.  The men leaned closer to look at her red inner membranes and the tan dildo that was beginning to enter and separate them.  Angled out over the edges of the table, her toes twitched nervously.

       That she could not control her gasps made it even worse.  But as the dildo slid in, inch by inch, she could not hide the little chills of pleasure.  With her rectum already filled with one dildo she had to shift and squirm, her butt cheeks rubbing against the table, to make room for the second one.  Finally she got to the base and pressed it up against herself, breathing in suddenly as the knob pressed against her clit.  Her legs shook momentarily, then she carefully put her legs down.

       McMasters was very helpful with the next step.  “Here, let me show you,” he said, as he brought together the velcro straps on one hip.  Tami tightened them on the other side.  Then McMasters took her hand and helped her down.

       Tami was not unaware of the significance of this event.  She felt straps around her hips, like the long-ago feel of bikini panties, and her pussy and butthole were covered.  For the first time in months, she was actually wearing a scrap of clothing!  Not very much, of course -- little straps across her hips, a thong-like strap running into her butt crack, and the panties stopped way below her navel, showing her hip bones, covering just her clit and not much more.  Still, it was like clothes.

       But she was not able to enjoy this moment as she had hoped.  Because as soon as she stood up she felt weak in the knees.  The twin dildos filling up her pelvis were almost debilitating her with sexual stimulation.  Especially the knob on her clit.  And there was that rough gritty material between her pussy and her butthole.  She couldn’t help it.  She moaned and bent down, hands on her knees.  “Ohhhh .  .  .  Oh God .  .  .  “

       This was not worth it, she quickly decided.  These panties might be clothes but they were worse than being naked.  She was thinking, “Take these off!!  Get me out of these!!” They were horrid.  Every little movement was like getting fucked in both holes, like being stimulated all over.  To stand there wearing this thing, with people looking at her and knowing she had a dildo up her butt and another in her pussy and was being turned on against her will .  .  .  she closed her eyes and longed for being simply naked and left alone.

       She exhaled and stood up, her body jerking slightly with unwelcome pleasure as the knob shifted a fraction of an inch over her clit.  She looked with fear in her eyes as McMasters brought over the bristle bra.  “Now this,” he said.

       She had almost forgotten those once-familiar movements of her arms, bringing bra straps up around her shoulders, around her back.  This bra attached in the front.  She clasped it on, the bristles scraping over her nipples, and told herself: For the first time in months I’m wearing a bra. Not much of a bra -- the little black cups, with strange little protruding knobs, were only about three inches across, covering only her nipples and the brown areolas and very little more.

       “Now let’s adjust the cups,” McMasters said, and he slowly twisted the little knob over each nipple.  They were clamps of some kind.  The no-longer-naked girl inhaled and gasped as the bristles tightened over her nipples, squeezing them.  Finally when the bristles were almost at the point of poking into her, McMasters pulled on each cup, stretching the nipple a bit away from the breast, and decided they were on tight enough.

       Tami felt about to cry.  This bra was even more horrid than the panties. It felt like her nipples were being encased in steel wool, some horrid itchy rough material that she couldn’t get away from.  She gulped and began taking deep breaths, her face flushed.

       Dr. Harridance, who had been watching the attachment of these devices from afar, looked at his watch.  “Well Tami, it looks like this invention is having its desired effect.  All in the name of science, you know.  Have a good time.  Getting paid for it, too!” he said in his amiable way.  “Gotta go.  Remember, watch out for this guy!” he said with a smile, pointing to McMasters as he left.  Tami didn’t want Harridance to leave.  She trusted him and his easy manner and was uneasy and afraid with McMasters.  She watched the door close and then looked at him with trepidation.

       “Well,” McMasters said, “how does it feel?”

       Tami didn’t know what to say.  Finally, she said, “Weird.”

       “That’s what we expected.  You really are a most fortunate young woman,” he said, which made her want to scream.  Then, to her surprise, he took what looked like a remote control out of his pocket and pressed a button. Tami heard a quick, low beep.  It reminded her of when she had a hearing test in high school and she had to put on headphones and there was a low note in one ear, then the other.  Then she heard another low beep.

       “A new refinement, put in only a few days ago,” McMasters said.  “The beeps reflect your level of arousal.  Orgasm is a steady tone.  And here -- ” he pointed down to a spot in the middle of the panties, “is a counter.”

       Tami looked down.  There was a little electronic display at the top of the panties, right over where it covered her clit.  The lit number was clearly visible.  “0”.  She knew what it meant immediately.  Another orgasm counter, in full view for everyone to see.  She closed her eyes and prayed. Please God, get me through this .  .  .

       “Now, Miss Smithers,” McMasters said in a strong voice, “let’s try this out.”  He opened up another door and Tami saw sunlight and felt fresh air. The door led out to a long garden-like area with a path down the center and a small fountain at the end, maybe a hundred feet away.  A very pleasant place, with benches here and there, to relax between classes, at least for a person in average circumstances.

       Gasping with each step, trying hard to smother her arousal, Tami followed McMasters’s lead until they were out on the beginning of the concrete path.  Mr. Zipkin stood behind.  Tami took a deep breath of the fresh air.  It was good at least to be out of that antiseptic lab environment, but .  .  .

       “I’d like you to walk out to that fountain, go around it, and then come back.  Try to keep a steady, relaxed pace.  No matter what you’re feeling,” McMasters said with an air of firmness.

       Her eyes wet, knowing what was bound to happen, Tami took a breath and started with uneasy barefoot steps down the path.  And was immediately attacked by a swarm of horrid sensations.  It was like being stung by bees, licked by tongues, sucked, fucked .  .  .  her clit, her pussy, her nipples, the dildo in her butt like a huge prod pushing her into a rasping noisy riot of intense stimulation she could not escape.  The little beeps came at quicker intervals.  She tried to hold her breath, holding in her gasps, but after about twenty feet breath exploded from her in a load moan. She looked back for a second, her face etched with fear, and saw that McMasters and Zipkin were staying at the doorway.  Glad she was getting farther away from them, she turned ahead and permitted her moans to build, until they were rhythmically pulsing with each tortured step.  “Ohhh .  . . oh - ohhh .  .  .  oh - ohhh .  .  .”  The beeps, getting faster and faster, only served to remind her of her increasing arousal and spurred her on, in the best tradition of biofeedback.

       Finally as she approached the fountain she cried out, trying to pray in the crisis of orgasm.  “Oh God please -- p - please -- pleease -- .  .  .” Her steps faltered but she remembered what her instructions were and kept going.  The beeps were now an unbroken tone, just like McMasters said.  As she rounded the fountain she had to lean onto it a couple of times to keep from falling over.  The orgasm spent itself and the beeps slowed down and she longed to take this horrid outfit off, lie down and rest, but knew she could not.

       The walk back was worse because she had to face her tormentors.  With a superhuman effort that turned her face red and caused the veins to bulge out on her neck she kept her arousal down until she was two-thirds of the way back.  But the quickening beeps gave lie to her efforts.  The second orgasm announced itself to her audience by the bugging out of her eyes as the girl gazed forward with an unearthly stare, rhythmic spasms causing her legs to splay to the side, pitch forward, then bend over, arms swinging wildly, her ragged gait bringing her closer and closer to the watching men, who listened as the steady low tone got nearer and nearer.  Wave after wave assaulted her body and then she found herself standing right in front of McMasters and Zipkin, sweating, her eyes crazy, jolting again and again with the last spasms, until she caught her breath and wailed, covering her eyes, tears running down her cheeks, crumpling down on the concrete.  “Oh God .  .  .  oh please .  .  .  no .  .  .  no more .  .  .”

       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, looking at the red nipples on her bare breasts, and blushing in shame as the men watched her shitting the rectal dildo out.  In a moment all the devices had been removed from her and she lay stretched out on the table, groaning, saying, “Oh God .  .  .  Jesus .  .  .  “ She was glad nothing was in her or on her.  She was glad to be naked again.  And she wanted to be alone.

       She dozed.  A few minutes later she rubbed her eyes and got up.  To her disappointment McMasters and Zipkin were still there, waiting near the doorway, McMasters holding the box.  “Long workout today, Miss Smithers.  Thank you for your time.” He handed the box to her.  “Today was excellent, Miss Smithers.  Excellent.  .  .  The retainer has sensors which monitor your reactions, as I’m sure you can now tell.  This is your assignment.  Put the apparatus on at your convenience until you have had five orgasms. Do this for three sessions during the next week, at any time and place at your convenience.  Maybe you can make a romantic event of it with your boyfriend around.  The information on your arousal will be recorded on the computer chip that’s embedded in the retainer.  We can read out the information when you come back for your next appointment.”

       McMasters opened the door and he and Zipkin went out.  “We’ve got to get going.  You can see yourself out.  Again, Miss Smithers, I can’t thank you enough.  The research you are helping with will be to the benefit of many, many people.” He gave his usual smarmy, salesman-like smile.

       And then he was gone.  Tami looked at the box in desolation.  She was too wiped out by today’s orgasms to feel any intensity of despair.  She went back to the waiting room of Lab 6 to get her backpack and found that she could stuff the box inside.  Good.  She didn’t want people seeing the box and asking questions about it.

       She made her way to the side exit, the exit she had used that night before going to the Student Union and finding the ad for the summer job.  She longed to get back to her dorm, to the normal world, even if she was always naked in it.  And she looked ahead once again with longing to four weeks from now, when she would be in another town and swaddled in clothes, clothes, clothes .  .  .

       There was a full-length mirror just before the doorway.  She caught a glance and then stopped, looking at her reflection in shock.  With her pussy now shaved smooth she looked like some kind of freak.  The lower lips, slightly parted, red and flushed, looked like they were announcing themselves to the world.  Anyone who saw her would be arrested by the sight. They were so prominent with no hair to hide them!  It was like she was asking the world to look at her lower lips and her clit, which stood out prominently above them.  And her nipples were drawing attention to themselves too -- rubbed raw, red, puffed out.

       And what was this?

       She moved closer.  It was true.  Scattered through her long, dark red hair were a few little strands of gray.  Gray hairs!!  What was happening to her?  The naked, shaven girl recoiled in alarm.  She remembered what Wanda had told her.  She knew for a fact now that there was an organized conspiracy to break her will, to shame her into admitting that nudism was not really her religion.  Wanda had only 28 days to do it.  Could she make it through those 28 days?  Or would she go crazy first?

       .  .

       The walk back across campus might have been, under different circumstances, rather pleasant.  It was late afternoon, sunny and pleasant, and she looked up around at the budding trees, her bare feet caressed by the soft green grass of the soccer field, and tried to get into a favorite fantasy of hers since the weather turned warm, that she was Eve in the Garden of Eden, a naked woman walking through this beautiful spring paradise.  But she felt every little draft and shadow on her bare pussy skin and knew that every eye would be on her prominent pussy lips, sticking into everyone’s face.

       And it was true.  People noticed it just as much as they did her nude figure the first time she had to walk outside naked, so long ago, back in September.  As she made her way along the paths by the academic buildings she overheard people saying, “Look at that!” “Jesus!” “She’s all shaved now!” “You can see her -- you know what!” The students on this campus, who had grown accustomed to seeing her naked body, suddenly were taking a close look all over again.  The teenager, still so sensitive at her age to vicious remarks, had to blink back tears of shame as she heard one gutless jerk yell, “Nice pussy!!” just before he ducked into a building.  Even worse were the reactions of her friends.  “Tami?!?” was heard more than once.  She waved and passed by, as if in simple acknowledgement.  Inside she felt the same cringing mortification that she felt in September.

       There was one friend she could not avoid giving an explanation to.  It was Marisol, coming her way past the Student Union, and Tami saw her astonished eyes looking straight down at her denuded pussy.  “Caramba!” Marisol said, stopping about six feet in front of her naked friend.  “What a difference!  You look like a walking pair of -- labios!”

       Tami blushed but smiled bravely.  “How do you like it?  I thought I’d give it a try.”

       Marisol kept staring and finally shook her head, smiling.  “Tami, you are the bravest mujer on this whole planet!” And she hugged Tami and then went on.

       In the dorm, people stopped and stared as Tami went by.  She ignored them and then, with a pause and a deep breath, opened the door to her room.   

       Jen and Mandy, sitting on their bunks, looked up and their mouths dropped open.  After a second Jen scampered up to Tami and got down on her knees, overcome with lust.  “Oh baby, oh Jesus, oh my, oh thank you God . . .” she said, hugging her arms around Tami’s hips, one hand on each bare butt cheek, by turns kissing Tami’s exposed pussy lips and resting her head against it with the smile of a child hugging her favorite teddy bear.