Tami signs “the contract” -- conclusion (?)

Henry Ross looked at the suffering girl and sensed that his final triumph was only seconds away.  He reached over the table and patted one of the white-knuckled fists.  “Miss Smithers, before I go there is one final thing to tell you and, ah, it is best if you look me in the eye.”  He cleared his throat.

        Tami heard the word “final” somewhere in her mind.  She didn’t know where it came from.  Then she sensed that Ross was about to leave.  With a supreme effort she looked up and opened her eyes.

        The teenaged girl’s face was a sweaty riot of craziness.  It was beet red and unrecognizable.  Her eyes had the wild look of a woman who had been driven insane.  Her eyebrows moved up and down separately as if on their own.  Her mouth twitched at odd intervals.

        “Miss Smithers, I want to emphasize that I do not want to be seen as coercing you into any form of modesty that might be against your religion.”

        Under the table, Jen suddenly remembered the workshop and the one foolproof way to get Tami off.  The G spot!  She moved her head up a bit, still sucking on her friend’s clit, and inserted one finger to find that hard little spot and then rubbed it . . .

        Tami’s eyes bugged out and her face twisted in anguish as she realized she could not survive this new stimulation.  A low, agonized moan escaped her lips as the cresting to a huge orgasm began.  “Ohhhhhhh . . . .”

        “. . .But you should understand that the kind of, ah, activity that you engage in in public cannot be allowed to interfere with the educational mission of this college.”  His eyes shone with sadistic intensity as they looked into Tami’s.  “Here it is O.K., but at other times and places it might not be.  Am I understood?”

        In the college dining hall, Tami Smithers, the girl who was always naked, reached orgasm.

        As she felt it begin, her eyes widened and she gazed at Henry Ross with a complicated look.  There was intense hatred at this creep for forcing her into this shame.  There was panic.  There was terror.  There was anguish at not being able to stop this powerful orgasm.  There was surprise at the intensity of the orgasm as it began.  There was the look of any woman overcome with intense sexual pleasure.  And finally, there was intense, burning shame such as she had never known . . .

        A strange, strangled, prolonged scream came from Tami Smithers as her mouth opened wide.  It was an unearthly sound which immediately got the attention of everyone else in the dining hall.

        “N - N - N - N - NNNN . . . . N - N - N - NNNN . . . OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!”

        As the scream went on and on and then slowly died in her throat, everyone in the dining hall looked, too shocked to react, except for someone who said, “Holy shit!”  Naked Tami was having an orgasm right there in the dining hall!  And it was a huge, long, noisy one!  Nobody had ever seen anyone come like that . . .

        Tami’s eyes bugged out and went out of focus as Henry Ross looked right into them, enjoying his triumph.  Then tears began to fall and her eyebrows arched in anguish as the contractions began.  Thump, thump, thump, Tami’s legs jerked the chairs back and forth, her pelvis spasmed upward, banging Jen’s head against the bottom of the table top as Jen held on for dear life.  With each spasm the whole table shifted and the silverware and plates clattered, resounding throughout the suddenly hushed dining hall.  The naked girl’s toes clasped the chairs on either side as if to brace her.  She caught her breath and let out a loud moan which pulsated with each contraction.  “Ohh -- ohh -- ohh -- ohh -- ohh --”

        Jeffrey looked at Tami and then at Henry Ross, who sensing Jeffrey’s gaze promptly wiped his brow again, widened his eyes as if in surprise and fear, and pretended to recoil in his chair.

        Under the table, Jen licked and tended each of Tami’s spasms until they finally began to die down.  She finished with some gentle full-length tongue swipes of Tami’s overworked pussy, then, finally resting from her labors, laid her head sideways on the damp pubic hair.

        Above the table, Tami Smithers leaned back in her chair, catching her breath, dripping with sweat.  The tracks of tears streaked down her cheeks.  Her whole body was flushed red.  Her mind returned to earth and she saw Henry Ross and Jeffrey looking at her.  She also saw the distant faces of other students staring at her in mute shock.

        Tami began to cry.  She didn’t try to suppress it.  She didn’t care any more.  Loud, long sobs and howls . . . tears flowing down her cheeks . . .

        It was time for Jen’s grand entrance.  She slithered up from under the table, along the naked, sweat-covered body of her friend, then hugged her while turning to look back at Henry Ross with a satisfied smile of insolence and victory.  She wondered if he remembered her from that orientation two years ago.

        Jeffrey was worried at seeing Tami cry.  “Is she O.K.?”

        Looking at Ross, Jen said, “She always cries after a really good orgasm . . . that’s what women do.”  She then turned around and gently took Tami’s face in her hands and gave her a full-throated kiss.  Tami limply returned the kiss and put her arms around Jen, her sobbing subsiding somewhat.  Tami’s legs were still stretched out to either side, bare feet looped around the chairs.  Her toes flexed and unflexed as her body continued to relax.

        Henry Ross cleared his throat.  “Well, I’m glad we, ah, had this little talk.  Take care, Miss Smithers.  Good-bye, all.”  He made it seem accidental as he tipped over an empty glass on Jen’s tray.  “Oops, sorry . . .”  Setting it back up, he turned to leave.

        Five minutes later Jen led her naked friend, head on Jen’s shoulder and arms unsteadily clutching Jen’s arm, along the icy path leading back to their dorm.  Tami didn’t mind the cold, in fact she welcomed the bracing air in her lungs and even the ice under her feet, which like the rest of her were still flushed and felt hot.  Five minutes after that Tami collapsed on her bed into a deep sleep, leaving Jen to look down at her in admiration.  Tami Smithers, who had just hit a home run in the struggle against patriarchy and the hangups of modesty.  Jen then wandered off to meet a friend.

        While they were in the dining hall a light snow had fallen, leaving a thick feathery powder on top of the ice.  To anyone passing by the next few days, the footprints of bare feet left behind were instantly recognizable as Tami Smithers’s, as distinctive as those of a cat or a rabbit.