Tami finally gets back at Dean Jorgon

       She stood proudly and nakedly in front of them, the Dean and Henry Ross, two abundantly and luxuriously clothed middle-aged men, the Dean behind his big oak desk in front of the big scenic window so that the bright vista of distant mountains almost made him look like a mere silhouette, Henry Ross in his big cushioned chair to one side.  The naked girl, her skin flushed from exertion, fought back the flood of shame from her nakedness and stood before these men almost as if a soldier at attention, in fact kind of like she was ready to attack, totally unlike the quivering, frightened, powerless figure she had presented the last time she stood in this spot.

       As her eyes got used to the light from the window and she could make out the expressions on the men she noticed that they seemed ill at ease.  The naked girl knew by now how to strip the minds of others, and had figured out that they had expected her to crack over the last, most extreme horrors -- the interview before the committee, the marathon orgasm session, the public voiding of her bladder and bowels -- and now they were on the defensive, stuck with a naked student who hadn’t cracked and who they couldn’t expel.  A very satisfying end to this terrible year.

       “M - miss Smithers, welcome,” the Dean said, shifting uneasily in his chair.

       “Yes?” She stood upright and stuck her chest out.  Her nipples were tanned and weathered and toughened by the sun and the rain and the wind and the snow, and enlarged by the hours being bristled and suctioned.  They pointed at him accusingly from the depths of her shame and now her angry resentment.

       “Sit down, please,” he said, motioning to a chair in front of his desk, an elegant chair with leather upholstery and carved wooden arms. Finally, she was allowed the dignity of a chair instead of having to stand in front of these men.  Tami slowly and with great pleasure rested her bare bottom on the cool, smooth leather.  Realizing she shouldn’t cross her legs in a ladylike gesture, she slouched back and insolently and casually draped one crooked knee over one of the wooden arms, as if daring the Dean to look at her bare pussy.  Her toes idly wiggled as her foot dangled down the side.

       The Dean was noticeably trying not to look, straining to keep his eyes on her face, and cleared his throat.  “We at the college have, uh, monitored your progress and have been very impressed.  We thank you again for your help in various projects.  Your declared, uh, absolute, total .  . .  absolute, total lack of modesty, as set forth by your religion, has enabled various, uh, projects to go forward.”

       In the past the Dean might have said this in an insinuating way.  But now he seemed like a beaten boxer who was flailing a few final wild punches, hoping against hope that one of them would land.  With nervous hands he opened a folder and took out some papers.  “I hope you have a good summer back home, Miss Smithers.  I do want to present some proposals for next semester.  For someone with your beliefs, these should be no problem.”

     Tami looked to the side and saw that Henry Ross did not share his boss’s discomfiture.  Mr. Ross had a smirk on his face and as the Dean handed a sheet of paper to Tami, he looked over to Ross, caught the twinkle in his eye, and looked back up at Tami with renewed confidence.  All of this was noticed by the teenaged girl, whom nudity had made wise and perceptive.

       The Dean spoke now with the unctuous, grave voice that Tami was familiar with.  “This is an agreement for further work at the Chalfont Institute measuring various bodily functions.  You can expect the experiments to be more -- intense -- than previously.”

       Tami looked at the agreement.  It was basically the same as what she had signed before, but included a list of dates, a “retainer and bristle schedule”.  Every Thursday during the fall semester was spelled out -- the nights when the Student Government met, where as Vice President she would be running the meetings.  And all of Parent’s Weekend, which was noted as such.  They wanted her to wear that horrid bristle bra and retainer panties during the most exposed times possible.

       Tami knew at once how to exact her revenge.  The Dean didn’t know she wasn’t coming back.  Time to make HIM uncomfortable for a change.  “Sure, I’ll do it,” she said, then without asking she grabbed the elegant silver pen from the pen holder on his desk and proudly signed her name in big letters.

       She handed it back to the Dean, who seemed a bit disappointed.  Hardly missing a beat, he took out another page and said, “Some months ago there was an unfortunate case over in New Hampshire where a prisoner undergoing a, uh, body cavity search was injured because it was done, uh, incorrectly. Our health department, in conjunction with our political science department, has therefore proposed a training on how to do such searches, and of course a live model that everyone can practice on would be ideal.  Your availability, of course, was foremost in their minds.  Now, note that this is an agreement to -- ”

       Tami, feeling increasingly giddy, grabbed the sheet and after a quick perfunctory skim, was about to sign it when the Dean said -- “Wait! . . .This training, Miss Smithers, will be given to all the police departments in this part of the state, including Crosley County, where I understand you unfortunately were temporarily detained.  It will be hands-on.  All police personnel will participate.  By ‘body cavity search’ I hope you understand that means full vaginal and rectal searches.  All police personnel, I say, even those in command.”

       Tami fought the urge to giggle.  It was so obvious.  He was trying to remind her of Sergeant Stanton in that jail, that fat disgusting man with the big fat fingers, and shake her with the thought of him shoving them roughly and deeply into her pussy and into her butt.  Yeah, like that will ever happen.  I’ll be long gone by then, you bastard!  Clothed and living a normal life with Ned and Ethel.  But just to rattle this stupid Dean, and Ross and the rest of their network of creepy sadists, Tami looked up with a mixture of innocence, defiance and insinuation and said, “Mr. Dean, I know what body cavity searches are.  What makes you think any of this would make a difference to someone like me?” And she signed this sheet too, with strokes of the pen that seemed like stabs to the Dean’s heart.

       The Dean was clearly surprised and shaken when the naked girl shoved the signed agreement back at him.  He exchanged a concerned look with Henry Ross.  Another sheet.  “The psychology department is doing research the stages of sleep.  They propose to install a 24-hour camera in your dorm, and it will record you whenever you are there, which includes of course your sleeping hours.  This would be a burden on your roommates, so it would be best for your bed to be moved to the main lounge in the dormitory.  Without doors or walls, Miss Smithers.  Without .  .  .  privacy .  .  . ”  His words trailed off as Tami grabbed this sheet and signed it also.

       The Dean straightened up in his chair and valiantly and sternly produced another one-page agreement, his ace in the hole.  “The agriculture department is researching the use of solid waste as fertilizer, specifically the use of human, uh, solid waste as a growing agent for certain plants.  They propose to use you to, uh, supply it.  Of course, every step of the, uh, process will be closely scrutinized, both by the faculty but also the students and probably visitors from various, uh, foundations interested in providing funding, including at various locations around the state.”

       Tami brought her leg down off the arm of the chair and sat up straight as if in mock concern.  “You want me to poop in front of people?  All semester?” After a cruelly playful pause she attacked this agreement with the pen also.  “Sure!”

       A moment after she gave the paper back Tami tilted her head in mock concern.  “Are you O.K.?”

       The Dean was slouching in his chair and, glasses off, was rubbing his eyes.  “Yes .  .  .  It’s just been a long day and a long semester.  A man in my position has to deal with many, uh, concerns.”

       “I can imagine,” Tami said puckishly.

       The Dean exchanged a long look with Henry Ross.  Then he put on his glasses and looked at Tami again.  “Miss Smithers .  .  .  You .  .  .  you believe in a .  .  .”  Not satisfied with the way he started, he began again, talking as if he were walking on eggs.  “You are a religious nudist. We respect that religion, in fact we are required to do so by the United States Constitution, which is the fountainhead of our liberty and the free exchange of ideas without which this institution of higher learning could not function.  Our student body is drawn from many religions and for them the college years are a time to explore, question, study, sometimes try new things.  It is one of the nice things about being young and without much in the way of worldly commitments that one is free to look at the world from different viewpoints.  This is not a sign of weakness by any means, but a sign of wisdom.  As an ancient Chinese philosopher, a very old man, once said, ‘I regret that I am not as wise as I was when I was first born.’ Or as a song that was popular a number of years goes, ‘I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.’ .  .  .”

       As this heap of sanctimonious horseshit passed through Tami’s ears, a inspired display which made even the Dean’s performances before the alumni association seem like tepid halfhearted efforts, the naked girl wondered what he was trying to say.  The next few sentences just plainly did not register.  But then the girl’s mind began to find a common theme buried in all this fine verbiage.

       “ .  .  .  Diversity of opinion, even within one’s lifetime, is a sign of wisdom and careful intelligence and something we are pleased to see and see often.  Religious convictions are none the less valid and strong and true if they are modified in the light of experience and new information. . . ”

       “Are you trying to convince me to change my religion?” Tami interrupted.

       “Uh, no, it’s just .  .  .  you should feel free to choose, without fear of reprisal.” The Dean gulped, though he tried to hide it.

       For a long moment the man and the naked girl looked at each other.  He was offering her the chance to change her religion -- and wear clothes -- and not get expelled.  Or was this a trick?

       Tami didn’t have to worry herself about this long.  She was never coming back to this place run by creeps and sadists.  Tami, who alone knew that she was never coming back and that she would be wearing clothes in a few hours, knew exactly how to deliver the final blow.  She stood up, looking down at the seated Dean, shoulders back, daring him to look at her firm bare breasts that looked larger in the light from the window and stuck out at him like cannons.  She remembered his self-righteous words back in December when he hinted that she was using religion as an excuse to cover the fact that she was merely streaking, and tried to quote those words exactly.

       “True religion is not a prank,” she said solemnly.  “It is something that people believe in deeply and suffer for.  This college was founded by people who had suffered a lot for their religion.  Well, Dean Jorgon, I’ve suffered a lot for mine.  And you are not going to change it.”

       The Dean looked up at her with dead calm.  “Suffered?  You mean all those things you agreed to were suffering?  For someone with no modesty -- ”

       “I mean going without clothing even when it is uncomfortable,” the naked girl said, her voice beginning to quiver with emotion.  “Do you know what it is like walking naked through the snow?  When it is below freezing and the wind is blowing right through you while everyone else is all covered up and warm?  Or being teased by -- by immature kids on this campus?  Or teased everywhere else?  No!” She edged a little closer to the desk.  “I am a religious nudist, I’ve sacrificed a lot for my religion, and you will not change that!”

       The man and the naked young woman looked at each other again, wordlessly. Henry Ross looked at the two of them, amazed and curious.

       Then Tami smiled, a triumphant and slightly evil smile.  “Of course, maybe I should proselytize,” she said, looking around casually.  “Maybe invite some people from the media to some of the college’s, uh, experiments.  I really do have no sense of modesty, you know.  Of course you know.  You of all people should know by now!”  She vaguely remembered what Miss Wickland, that lawyer relative of Henry Ross’s, had told her the first time she visited.  “How would you like people from the newspapers and T.V. swarming around here?”

       She sat down and then, bracing her hands on the sturdy wooden arms of the chair, lifted her hips off the seat as she spread her feet wide, wide apart, planting the heel of one bare foot on one corner of the Dean’s desk and the other near the opposite corner, where it bumped against a picture which happened to be of the Dean’s wife.  She pushed her widespread crotch up and forward until it seemed to be almost in the Dean’s quickly reddening face.  “Want to see my cervix?  You certainly like me to show it to everyone else.  I can open my pussy without using my hands.  Look!”

       “M - miss Smithers it really isn’t necessary -- ” the Dean sputtered out, but his words trailed off as his gaze was arrested by the sight of the teenager’s pussy opening wide like the mouth of a fish.  He had a straight view in and the light from the bay window behind him allowed him to see the inside of Tami’s intimate pink cave quite well, indeed right into the little soft round protrusion all the way in, her cervix.

       “I -- I -- ”

       “Pretty, isn’t it?  Everyone tells me so.” Tami smiled as she noticed the Dean’s face turn crimson and saw the beginnings of sweat.  She had forgotten all about shame by now and cared only for revenge.  She felt like a monster in an old movie, the subject of a mad scientist’s experiment who comes back to kill him, saying, “See what you’ve turned me into!!” Meanwhile, the middle-aged executive closed his dry mouth to catch his breath.  He wanted to shift in his chair to relieve the strain of his suddenly rampant erection, but that would only cause rubbing --

       “How about the inside of my rectum, want to see that?  Here,” Tami said, a being possessed, as she dismounted from her spread position with a gymnast’s skill and, switching her grip on the wooden arms like they were parallel bars, flipped around so that now her heels were up and she was grabbing the lip of his desk at the corners with her bare toes.  “I don’t need hands for this either,” she said, sticking her butt at the Dean and, flexing her internal muscles, relaxing her anal ring so that the Dean was looking into a dark cave through a circular portal an inch wide.  With the light at his back he could see the tender pink surfaces inside, the interior of the student’s rectum.

       See what you’ve turned me into?  Tami looked back over her bare shoulder at the suffering Dean, his gaze once again unable to free itself from her dark cavity.  He seemed to be gagging.  “Oh -- Miss -- God -- ”

       “Mmmm, glad I had that gymnastics experience,” Tami said, flipping back around so that her butt slapped back down on the soft leather of the seat. “I’m getting horny too.  The other day I came one hundred thirty six times. Can you imagine that?  One hundred thirty six times!” As the Dean’s eyes widened in horror she hooked her legs over the wooden arms and spread the lips of her pussy with her fingers.  “Those experiments increased my, um, metabolism.  I’m used to coming dozens of times a day now.  I need orgasms frequently.  If you don’t mind, I’ll have one now.  Mmmm.  .  . ”  And in a show of play acting that would do any nude dancer proud, she narrowed her eyelids as if in sexual pleasure and drew her clit out, pulling on it and stroking it.  See what you’ve turned me into?

       “Miss -- ohh -- Miss -- ” The Dean’s body quivered, his face got even redder, and he quickly took his glasses off and put his head down to cover his eyes with one hand.  .  .  It was perfectly obvious to everyone what had just happened within his trousers.

       Tami, who was not actually horny, looked at the defeated man and sighed. “Well, maybe not now,” she said.  Then she put her legs together and stood up.  “Are we finished?”

       The Dean nodded, his face still hidden.  “Yes .  .  .  You may go .  . . please .  .  . ”

       With a quick nod to the dumbfounded Henry Ross, Tami walked out, then scampered down six flights of stairs with a big grin on her face.  As she got out into the lobby she saw no sign of Wanda.

       She emerged into the sunlight onto the pebbly courtyard and could not resist turning and giving the finger to the whole Rossland Hall.  Then, giggling, she ran back to her dorm, breasts bouncing, feet slapping on the concrete paths, heart laughing.  She was glad she could end her life of nakedness on a triumphant note.  Sometime tonight, she would be back in -- CLOTHES!!