Tami, figure model (II)

Campbell - Frank College at 8:15 a.m.  was still just waking up on this sunny spring day.  As the world got green one could best appreciate that the campus landscaping was beautiful.  Grassy hills and lawns gave the effect of pastoral spaciousness even though the campus was actually pretty small.  Abstract sculptures placed here and there added to this effect.  At this time of morning, the long sleepy shadows of bright sun threw every little rise into sharp relief.  With the dew on the grass and the newly sprung flowers here and there and the singing of birds, it seemed like the world itself was new and fresh.  And actually a little chilly, though the sun was warm and in a couple of hours it would be almost hot.

       Only a handful of classes began as early as 8:00, and there were few people walking around at this hour.  Those walking past the Student Union, if they looked up and a little to the left of the academic quad, would see the white abstract metal sculpture of a giant chair, with smooth rounded curves.  And on top of this chair was a naked girl, legs spread and looking down at a small group of students in folding chairs with sketch pads.

       Tami Smithers, her beautiful skin covered with goose bumps, shivered a bit as a slight breeze came out from a shadow somewhere.  Sitting up on the giant chair like a little naked midget, about five feet above the ground, she was obediently following instructions, spreading her legs as far apart as she could, almost a split, on the cold metal, her back leaning against the cold curved back of the chair.  Also per instructions, her hands were on her inner thighs, spreading her bare, shaven pussy lips as far apart as she could, and her gaze was directed right into the faces of her watchers, with a small smile.  Also per instructions.

       The students, heavily clad in sweaters and sweatshirts, looked up intently at the naked girl’s gaping-open pussy and then down at their sketchbooks.  Sitting in the very front was a young man with a wide, doofy smile, looking intensely into the reddish darkness of the girl’s cavity, then trying to make eye contact with her, but her gaze was resolutely dull and not focused on anyone in particular.  To one side stood Professor Brignon, in a stylish sweater over a flannel shirt, trim jeans, and fluffy moccasins, by turns walking around to look at the sketches, and then standing up next to the model and pointing to her crotch, which was almost at her eye level.  Her thick, melodious French accent was easily heard over the singing birds in the early morning quiet.  “Notice again the standing out of Tami’s clitoris, how it forms a shadow over the side of her lips now that they are bare.  .  . ”

       Tami tried to keep her thoughts calm.  She could sense the drumbeat now. What Wanda had told her that time in the Rossland Hall basement after the orgasm demonstration -- those words had made her look anew at the things that were being done to her and now it all made sense.  The Professor, the Chalfont experiments, Mr. Winant and his devious grounds crew assignments -- there was indeed an accelerating, organized campaign to subject her to ever more extreme forms of shame, to break her will and admit that nudism was not really her religion, that it was merely an excuse to explain that streaking dare her first week here.  The humiliation was almost daily, now. Having to go naked all the time was of course a given, she had trapped herself into that.  And still could not find a way out.  But the ongoing exposures .  .  .  And it seemed like in the past couple of weeks they had really turned the screws.  It looked like they were determined to break her before the semester ended.  Wanda had told her that if she got her to break by then, the college would give Wanda that exchange student year in France she obviously desperately wanted.  But for some reason the others also seemed to be working with determination toward that deadline.  Steadily they were ratcheting up the shame, ratcheting up the humiliation and the exposure .  .  .

       This class was just the latest example.  All semester long, every weekday at 8:00 a.m., Professor Brignon had made Tami pose in wide-spread, humiliating poses that exposed every little crevice of her nudity to the figure drawing class -- one of the new open enrollment classes full of not only Campbell - Frank students, but older people from the town, and kids from the community college who looked like they should still be in high school.  And this creepy dweeb who always sat up front and made no attempt to hide his leering, like a 14-year-old seeing his first porn movie.

       Then yesterday, the Professor had announced that today’s class would be on drawing of genitals and other private areas, an important skill in many types of portraiture (she said), and she was giving advance notice so that any students who would feel uncomfortable could stay home.  At the time, Tami, standing up on the wooden pedestal with her arms spread out and her breasts on glorious display, cringed inside, wondering what further exposures awaited her, hoping that today few students would show up.  And actually when the class gathered in the classroom today she noticed that some of the older grandmother types were not around, and some others.  But probably two-thirds of everyone else had shown up.

       Then there was the Professor’s supposedly last-minute idea at the beginning of today’s class to do the drawing outside.  It is important to be able to draw in natural light, she said.  And then she said that when weather permitted all the rest of this semester’s drawing classes would be outdoors.  This way the students could learn more about natural light and also enjoy the weather.  Yeah, right.  Spreading her pussy for the crowd, Tami’s genitals were public, but her thoughts were still private, and in her private thoughts she recognized how the Professor simply wanted Tami to pose in front of all the world, increasing her shame.

       An ant suddenly crawled up from nowhere onto Tami’s left pussy lip.  She gasped and flicked it away.  Ugh!  In a moment she was back assuming her assigned pose.

       I can tough this out, Tami said, though recognizing the intense shame she felt, her shaved pussy making her feel even more naked.  It was a sign of her reduced circumstances that now she longed even for the covering of pussy hair again.  Well, only 20 more days.  I can do it .  .  .  I can survive this.  She knew this whole ordeal had made her stronger.  After this year of being forced to be naked all the time, I can deal with anything.  This summer will be easy.  And after that .  .  .

       In 20 days she would be wearing clothes, working with Ned and Ethel in Ferrisburg, 30 minutes away by bus.  A full summer in a town where nobody knew her.  And in the fall?  Maybe she didn’t have to come back.  Maybe she could work for a year and then enroll at some other college.  She had to get a final spring transcript anyway for Ned and Ethel, she might as well get extra ones to keep.  And then, after a year, she could put them in with her applications to other colleges.  Perfect attendance and straight A’s from a prestigious school --- she would be sure to get in somewhere.  And wherever that was, she would be wearing clothes, of course -- once again, a normal college girl.

       Even if the Dean found out about that, by that time there would be nothing he could do to her.  He couldn’t expel her, because she’d already be gone.  And the transcript would be final, he couldn’t retrospectively void it somehow.  Or could he?  Tami thought he probably couldn’t, though she was guessing about it, in fact guessing about all this.  She thought it over, momentarily distracted as a quick breeze blew right into her pussy and chilled her insides.  She shivered for a second, causing one of her bare heels to slip off the side of the sloping chair sculpture.  She put it back up, laying her leg flat against the cold white metal.  In spite of all she had been subjected to she was still only 18 years old, less than a year out of high school, and knew very little about the college application process and things like that.

       Getting a job after the summer.  Hmmm.  Maybe Ned and Ethel would keep her on when September came.  If not, there were probably other jobs she could get.  Surfing the internet the other night, she found out to her surprise that the local newspaper in Ferrisburg was actually online.  Its web page had ads there from local businesses.  Computer stores, schools, department stores .  .  .  certainly she could get a job at one of them.  She could easily become an employed resident of Ferrisburg.

       And what about her father?  A real stubborn guy, he had insisted that Tami live with the consequences of her actions.  Either that or put clothes on, get expelled, and go back to work with him at his hardware store.  Well, once the summer was over and she was no longer going back to this college, with a job of her own and an apartment of her own, she would be financially independent and he would really have no control over her.

       As for the Student Government, Brad would just have to get a new Vice President.  She really wasn’t too thrilled about having volunteered for the job.  She’d be standing behind the lectern, but still the focus of attention at every S.G.  meeting.

       The more dicey problem was Rod.  Once she got clothed how could she explain it to him?  Her being naked at all times for religious reasons was one of the things he admired about her.  During the summer they would be apart and she could be evasive, but in September when they visited each other she would have to deal with him.  Would he feel betrayed to see her wearing clothes?  Surely she meant more to him than that by now.  Well .  . .  she had all summer to figure this out.

       “Oh!” She twitched as she saw an ant crawling over her big toe.  She shook it off with a little kick.  Where were these ants coming from?  As she resumed her position, staring down dully at the students whose eyes were glued to her open pussy, she fervently hoped that no ant would crawl up into her pussy, or try to make its way into her butt crack.  She tilted her pelvis a little backward to keep her butthole solidly on the metal so that it wouldn’t happen, even though it meant the coldness was pressing right against her sphincter.  Shit, this sculpture is like sitting on an ice cube .  .  .  Good thing the sun is getting warm!

       Thinking of Rod made her mind turn to more pleasant things.  Such as their first experience with the retainer and bristle bra, a couple of nights ago.  It was very difficult for her to bring it up.  They were at his apartment and were watching TV, grainy transmissions of a Canadian program in French, apparently a soap opera.  She and Rod both knew a little French but they could make out only a few words at a time because these folks on TV talked so fast.  She was sitting her naked self up on the couch while Rod was on the floor, his head between her legs, absently spreading her toes with his fingers as he tried to figure out what was being said.

       During a commercial Rod turned his head and kissed her bare pussy.  She could feel his hot breath and five o’clock shadow.  Her skin down there was still so sensitive.  “Uh .  .  .  Rod?”

       “Yes, Babe.”

       “Maybe you can help me with my .  .  .  assignment.”

       “What, Babe?” he was still looking at her pussy, playing with the lips.

       “The research at the Chalfont Institute .  .  .  They gave me an outfit to wear.”

       This, at last, drew Rod’s attention.  He looked up with alarm.  “They can’t do that, Babe!”

       “Well I agreed .  .  .  it was for the cause of science.”

       “So this outfit, what about it?”

       “It’s supposed to make me .  .  .  come,” Tami said, feeling her face burn red, suddenly realizing how tough it was to explain this.

       Rod didn’t notice her shame; he was suddenly alert, as any man would be. An outfit that would make a woman have an orgasm!  He had heard about such a thing, somewhere, or something like it.  “Tell me more!”

       “Well, it’s a .  .  .  bra and panties.  .  .  Only the bra has little . .  . ”  Tami gathered her breath and forced herself to go on.  “B - bristles to .  .  .  rub my . . .nipples.” She saw Rod’s eyes go to her brownish red, weather-toughened, tanned nipples, which seemed always to be hard.  She felt a chill of shame which caused her nipples to get even harder, sticking out like pencil erasers, only quite a bit bigger.

       “And the panties??” Gosh, Rod thought.  This is getting good!

       “The panties have two .  .  .  things in them.  One goes in my .  .  . my vagina.” She said the work awkwardly.  She never could never force herself to say “pussy”.  “And the other goes in my .  .  .  in my butt.  “ She clenched her buttocks, thinking of that invading white dildo, remembering having to insert it and then shit it out under the close attention of McMasters and his assistants.

       “Wow!” Rod said, so turned on that he didn’t notice her discomfiture.  “Where is this outfit?”

       Tami got up and went over to her backpack.  A moment later she was taking the bristle bra and retainer panties out of the little box.  Rod held these items tenderly as if they were long-sought pieces of gold.  “Wow .  .  . ” he said again.  He looked at the twin dildos and was amazed at female capacity.  “These things both fit inside you at the same time?”

       “Yes,” Tami said without emotion.

       “And what’s this?” Rod said, getting something else out of the box.  It was the remote control McMasters had used.  Surprised at seeing it, Tami said, “That turns on the counter.”

       “Counter?”

       “Yes .  .  .  here,” Tami said, pointing to the little dark window on the panties over where her clit would be.

       “Counter?” Rod said again, wanting to hear more.

       Tami tried to force a smile.  “I’m supposed to .  .  .  keep it on until I come .  .  .  come five .  .  .  times,” she said nervously.

       “Five times?” Rod said, engrossed, feeling the little bump next to the front dildo that was supposed to press against Tami’s clitoris.  He chuckled.  “Well, that shouldn’t be hard to do for someone like you, Tam.  You come more times than anyone I ever heard of.”

       You don’t know the half of it, Tami told herself.  She saw Rod look at the apparatus some more and then he looked up at her and said, “Get up and squat on the desk, Babe.  I’ll help you put this on!”

       Tami was glad that Rod was taking over.  She just could not impale herself on this thing with Rod watching.  But this outfit was a common male fantasy come true and Rod couldn’t wait to see what kind of effect it had on his girlfriend.  Trusting his tenderness, the naked girl squatted wide and low on top of his desk as he industriously scurried around and got out some of the lubricant they always kept around for screwing.  She shut her eyes as she slowly sat on the rear dildo, but didn’t really mind it so much, or when the front dildo was put in place with the little bump for her clit.  It was like he was fucking her himself with these things.  Or like he was an African prince trying out a new gizmo on his white slave girl, this thing which would make her come for his amusement.  Or like .  .  .  though she almost laughed to see the word pop into her brain, she realized it was appropriate.  The whole process was “romantic”.

       Impaled front and rear, shivering with a jolt of pleasure, the teenage girl brought her legs down and the side straps were tightened, and the rear thong that went up her butt crack.  Rod then carefully strapped the bristle bra over her nipples and, being quick to figure out its mechanics, twisted the clamp knobs until the two bristly cups were snug and secure.

       He then stood back as his no-longer-naked girlfriend got up and stood in front of him, extending herself straight up slowly as if in pain, breathing heavily.  She drew her eyes up to his, eyes he recognized as being almost overwhelmed with sexual stimulation.  It was the look she had just before orgasm, a look he knew well.

       “You are beautiful, Babe,” he said, going over to her and hugging her and then kissing her.  “Thank God for science,” he chuckled.  He looked down at the remote control and pushed a button.  A low beep came out of the panties, then another.  The two lovers looked down at the little window, a little display that said, “0”.

       A quick chill and Tami inhaled as her whole body twitched.  Then Rod pressed another button and the beeping went off.  “Good,” he said.  “Too distracting.  I like hearing you pant and moan better.”

       Tami stood before him, shifting carefully on nervous bare feet, humbly presenting herself to him, his naked white slave girl suffering for his pleasure.  Should she start walking around?  Now what?

       Rod, giving in to curiosity, turned a little dial on the remote control.

      “OH!!” Tami yelled, crumpling down, holding her arms across her stomach. Everything was vibrating!  The bristly cups tight around her nipples, both dildos .  .  .  but especially the little knob pressing her clitoris!  “OH . .  .  GOD!” she said, as she lurched toward the alarmed and surprised Rod. She tried to straighten up to put her arms around his shoulders and had almost got there when she succumbed to orgasm.  “Oh! .  .  .  Oh! .  . . Oh! .  .  . ”  Jolt after jolt, wave after wave assaulted her body as she held onto Rod for dear life.  Her amazed boyfriend could only hold her, his body jerking from her powerful pelvic spasms, as the orgasm gradually ran its course.  With the final contraction he brought her limp body over to his bed and laid her down on her back.  She looked at the ceiling with a wide-open stare as she sought and grabbed his hand.  “Ohhh.  .  . ” she said, her body still shaking.  In a moment she was cresting again.  “H - hold me Rod!” were her last words before she moaned into another series of spasms.

       Through her dulled senses Tami knew that Rod was as surprised as she was by her quick capitulation to the gentle buzzing.  Less than a minute after he turned that dial and she was already coming a second time.  She felt his face against hers, his hands running through her hair .  .  .

       Now, in the cold morning out on the metallic abstract chair, shivering a bit again on the cold metal as she readjusted her hands to spread her pussy lips a bit more for the sketching students, the smile that Tami was supposed to exhibit as part of her pose became a little more real as she remembered that night.  It was one of the most intense romantic experiences of her life.  After her quota of five orgasms, Rod had turned off the vibrations and carefully taken off the various stimulating devices.  Then they had a couple of beers and some chips, watched some more TV, and then, with the lights out, they had put the outfit on again.  Before Rod turned the vibrations on, Tami lovingly took his hard dick into her mouth and gave him the best blow job she’d ever given him.  Then it was time for her second session, just as intense, yet quieter in the dim light, with Rod stroking her hair, holding her hand as she lay on the bed.  .  .  Almost like he was trying to comfort her while she was going through some kind of painful medical procedure, which in a way it was, but in another way was anything but.

       Tami, smiling her little smile, lost in her remembrances, at first didn’t hear Professor Brignon as the French accent again broke through the stillness of the sunny early morning.  “Please to turn around, Tami,” she said.  Enough of romance and intense shared sexual pleasure, back to cold humiliation.

       Without enthusiasm Tami followed the Professor’s instructions.  When Tami had assumed her new pose to the Professor’s satisfaction the naked girl was showing her butthole to the utmost.  Turned around, left knee down, the right leg up on one flat bare foot, her face turned to look at the sketching students with another little smile, with her right hand pulling on one butt cheek so that the little ring of brown skin winked in the chill morning air at the whole campus.  It was just as shaming as the first pose, maybe more so, and the Professor’s commentary made it worse.  “Notice please the wrinkles coming out from Tami’s anus, beautiful in their own way. Take note of her smile, she is happy to show you all her secrets.” Tami put on her little smile and looked at the students, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, trying to numb her mind to what was going on.

       Her eyes shot up momentarily with secret horror as she saw the Dean, of all people, walking up the little hill to them in his usual business suit, his polished black shoes getting wet from the dew, which was starting to evaporate in the sun.  Tami was keenly aware of the sight she presented and dearly wished to turn around and cover herself with her hands.  The urge was so intense that her whole body quivered with the strain of suppressing it, but she knew she had to.  She kept her eyes down but knew that he had a calm, jovial expression on his face and was probably looking right at her blatantly exposed butthole.  Oh God .  .  .  Dear God, get me through this encounter .  .  .  The naked teenager closed her eyes momentarily as she said this prayer.

       “Hello all, Hello Professor,” the Dean said, standing behind everyone, sharing their regard of the model posing up on the sculpture.  “No, go ahead with your sketching, I’m just making my rounds.  This is not a sight you see on the typical campus, believe you me.”

       There was a little chuckling.  The Professor said, “Yes, we are the most lucky to have Miss Smithers as our model.  “

       “The whole college is lucky to have her here, she is a model student, you might say,” the Dean said, smiling at his little pun.  “Fortunately Miss Smithers has agreed to continue as your model for the rest of the time she is here until graduation.”

       Staring dully down at the back of a student’s sketch pad, Tami’s smile disappeared for a moment, but then she caught herself and forced the smile back on.  She didn’t remember agreeing to any such thing.  Yet why would a committed nudist object?  Particularly when the pay was so good.  He had her trapped again.  Tami shuddered at the thought of doing this every morning for the next six semesters.  At least there was only one more week of classes left, one more week of posing.  Her ruminations caused some internal muscles to move and her butthole winked at the students, at Professor Brignon, and at the Dean.

       Then the Dean said something that made Tami’s heart stop.

       “I’ll just let you know, you might notice Miss Smithers actually wearing something in the next few days,” the Dean said amiably.  “It will look like a bikini.  She has agreed to participate in experiments by the college’s physiology research department concerning detection of skin response, and has agreed to, uh, wear this monitoring device.  I just want you to know that this is no way is an attempt to interfere with Miss Smithers’s religion, for which the college and all of you probably, have the highest respect.  It is simply the only way to collect the required data, and Miss Smithers has agreed in writing to wear the devices, which are, shall we say, the ‘bare’ minimum required for the experiment.”

       “That is hard to imagine,” the Professor said.  “Miss Smithers actually wearing something?  I thought for her it was forbidden.”

       “Well, it is O.K. with her, don’t worry, right, Miss Smithers?”

       The naked girl, spread out and exposing her butthole from her perch, looked up and nodded weakly, then looked down again.  Having deftly dropped his bombshell, the Dean walked away placidly and with maybe a hint of self-satisfaction, and the class went back to sketching.  The naked girl continued to look numbly down, the little smile frozen to her face, trying to contemplate the enormity of the shame she would soon have to endure.  She blinked and her eyes got red as she prayed silently.  Please God, please dear God, help me through these final days!