Tami Beethoven
by Donny Laja

Part 69

She had gotten him naked in the kitchen, and they had hugged there, then walked hand in hand through the living room.  It felt unusual.  He didn't usually walk around naked, but it felt nice, like an interracial Adam and Eve, about to walk into the world and procreate a race of tan-skinned children.

She had something in mind and he didn't know what it was.  He thought of that "solidarity dinner".  She was melancholy until that phone call from her father.  That changed everything.  He was so proud of himself for getting up the courage to make that long trip down to Providence, unbeknown to her, taking a personal day while she thought he was at work.  Good thing she didn't call on the cell.  On the way back from the dinner, she had said, "I can take anything now.  I've got you, Baby, and my dad and the rest of my family, and all my friends..."

Now she was up to something as she led him naked into their bedroom.  It had to be for his pleasure, not hers.  She was determined to stay unsatisfied until the great status orgasmus expriment, the shock treatment that would reverse her clothing allergy, scheduled for this Saturday.  It had been a while since she had taken charge of giving him pleasure, not since that disastrous week when she had tried greeting him upon his return from work with a different idea each day.

It was with a lot of nervousness that he agreed to be tied to the bed.  Of course he trusted Tami, so he was surprised at his hesitation.  "Just let go," Tami said, as she tied his ankles to the little posts below and his wrists to the tall posts at the head, with soft cords that she seemed to have bought for the occasion.

"Where did you get these, Babe?" he asked, checking how securely he was fastened.  The bonds didn't hurt and yet he couldn't hope to get free.

"No concern of -- yours," Tami said, breathing a bit irregular, a product of her unquenched horniness.  She hopped off the bed and left the room.  Her words now came from somewhere distant.  "All I -- think about now that I can't -- come is -- sex.  I've been reading a lot on the internet.  Did you know there are -- blogs by couples who -- make a diary of when they -- make love?  And with pictures too . . ."

"I think a lot of those are made up," he said, twisting uneasily, looking down at his widely-spread legs, his half-hard dick arcing uncertainly down between them, the base obscured by his belly.  He really should work out more.  His belly was a little more convex than he wanted it to be.

"Possibly.  But I'm sure a lot are real," Tami said, walking in with a little bag from which she got out a tube of lotion.  She worked it onto her hands and then rubbed some onto his thighs.  She worked down to his shins, and then worked some onto his feet.  She separated his toes with her fingers.  It felt good and Rod laid his head back and relaxed.  Being given a massage by a beautiful naked woman.  I can deal with that.

"I've bookmarked -- fifteen blogs that look -- real to me."  Now she came up to lotion his chest.  "I read them every day.  It's hard to -- stay focused on classwork.  Of course... not having to go to actual classes gives me more time."

"How do you work that?  What about your grounds crew job?  Your tutoring?"

"SHHHH!"  Tami's eyes flashed in mock imperiousness.  "Don't worry your pretty little head about such things!"  He felt like giggling but he didn't.

"Ohh Babe!!"  She was now tickling the base of his dick, and his balls, tracing her fingers around, the merest touch.  His dick stiffened, hoisting up by stages with his heartbeat up to a 45-degree angle, and now she wrapped one hand around the lower part of the shaft and the other above it, leaving the big acorn of the glans.  She squeezed to make the acorn bigger.  Their eyes met.  Then she flicked her tongue against that sensitive spot under the head, making his whole body jump, to the extent it could.

He strained his arms and legs uselessly against the cords.  She held his dick in her hands for a moment more, tantalizingly breathed on it, then went back to rubbing in the lotion, this time around his ears, tapping his forehead, his nose.  At the same time she reached around with her limber legs and traced her dexterous spread toes up and down his hip bones, reaching for his dick, then drawing back, reaching for it, then drawing back...

Then she ground her bare body against his, lying on him full length, her rock-hard nipples poking holes in his pectorals.

This torture had been going on for twenty minutes.  His legs shook with frustration.  "Please Babe... finish me off."  He shut his eyes.

"Tonight, Mr. Rod Smithers Sykes has multiple orgasms," Tami said breathily.  Then she flicked her tongue against his dick again, making it jump.

Now, silence.  Where was she?

His eyes still shut, he whimpered, "P - please Babe... please..."  In the back of his mind he knew this was pretty funny, but that did not ease his frustration.

After a few moments of excruciating silence, he opened his eyes.

Tami's face was six inches above his.

"Listen, Mack... do you want multiples, or not?"

He opened his mouth and didn't know what to say.

"You SAID you were jealous, right?"

He thought for a moment and nodded weakly.

"Well then," she said in a sudden soothing voice, caressing his face in her hands, "I've done a lot of reading about it.  A LOT of reading.  Listen then... Pretend I'm a majorette leading you."

He could identify with that, certainly.  He decided that he could do what Tami was trying to achieve.  He could follow Brigid, or follow Tami, anywhere faithfully.

"You have two ways to go," she said, fluttering her hands up and down his legs, barely touching them.  "You can squirt, or hold onto your seed and go the other way.  Breathe deep.  Hold the squirt in."

"OHHH!"  Tami was working her widely-open, engorged pussy lips right over the tip of his dick!  Back and forth, back and forth, sawing wetly, just a tiny bit more each time.  Rod felt the sap rising and breathed in and out furiously.  Now his whole body tensed and was filled with a euphoric glow.  He felt his fingers and toes spread.  He was marching in his uniform, his fly open and his dick out and erect, feeling the cold air on it as it swung to and fro in front of him, watching the blotches and patches of redness on the bare skin of the white majorette in front of him, Frigid Brigid naked except for a little string passing across her waist and running into her butt, twirling and leading with the baton in her left hand.  And now he was in his Jeep going up the mountain, brights on in a snowy night, then the lights illuminated a fork in the road, and instead of turning right over a cliff he turned left --

His body jumped up and spasmed!  Then jerked up again!  It was like any other orgasm except he felt no shooting, no emptying, except for a great clearing of the congestion in his pelvis, a great relief of all that pent-up tension...

As the spasms died down he opened his eyes.  Tami was sitting between his thighs, watching his dick, bigger than he had ever seen it, leaping back and forth a few last times.  A little river of clear wetness ran down the side.

He caught his breath.  "Oh God..."

Tami cleared her throat.  "Was that a real orgasm?"

"Oh Babe... That was the best!"

"Feel wrung out?"

"Oh man... yes..."

"Can you go again?"

Rod felt himself coming back to earth and realized something.  "Yes, Babe, I can.  I think, anyway."  A strange feeling.

"OHHH!"  Tami's lower lips once again worked their magic, sawing back and forth, back and forth... Again he was raised up the mountain, again he turned left... and again he spasmed and spasmed, even longer than the first time.

As he came down again he said "Oooh!"  Tami was gently licking his nipples.  A strange but pleasant sensation.  His dick was still hard.

"W - what's that... wet stuff?"

"That's your pre-cum.  That's why you're not getting what we white folks call blue balls."

"Oh... OHHHH!"  Now she had his dick in her throat, sucking it.  "Babe -- tchhkk -- p - please -- n - no - more -- TCHKKK!  OHHH!  Ohhhhhh..."  Another turn to the left, this time without having to think about it --

      .     .     .     .

He sat at the kitchen table naked, in a fog, a big dumb smile on his face, his dick hanging between his legs as he hunched forward.  He smelled the bacon and eggs and blinked and looked up.

Tami eyed him gaily as she forked the bacon out of the pan.  "How about some burnt connective tissue?"


She brought the plate over to him with a halting gait.  He felt sorry for her continued state of frustration but he was hungry.

"You are really devious, know that?  Rod Sykes.  Who would have suspected?"

He smiled again as he ate.  She was referring to the blow job she had given him upon awakening.  Last night, after coming who knows how many times, he had finally squirted down her throat, at her request.  Then she had united him and he curled up to sleep right away.  Then this morning she started sucking him again.  He came without squirting.  After which she said, "Come on, Baby, this time squirt."  Then as he crested again he said, "Here it comes -- Babe!"  She took him in deep, only to be greeted with a few drops of pre-cum.  Half laughing, half pissed off, she had said, "Come on!  You'll be late for work!  Feed me, Baby!  I'm hungry!"  "OK, OK."  A minute later he unloaded a generous serving of protein.

She had a laptop open near the toaster that she went to.

"Babe," he said, "I am so lucky.  I love you love you love you."

She smiled and went over to him and kissed his shaved scalp.  "I figured -- I only started having multiples -- when I was tied up -- in Lab 6 -- that would be the way for you to learn too."

"I wish I could get you off," he said, looking at her swollen pussy lips hanging out from her lush plum-colored forest.  "I hate to see you suffer so."

"That's -- nothing," Tami said.  "Now that I'm horny and -- coming... I can't imaginge how it must be... to be a man.  Having that big dick hard, and with clothes!  Rubbing against the pants all the time, rubbing, rubbing... I don't know how you guys control yourselves! Look at this..."  She turned the laptop torward him.  "This blog is called 'married and loving it'.  This man says... 'Wifey had another good strong orgasm.  That was number ten.  I hadn't come in about two weeks so she told me it was my turn'... Two weeks!  He keeps himself unsatisfied so that he can please his wife over and over.  Rubbing against pants every minute of every day... Such -- unselfishness... Such -- love..."

Poor guy, Rod thought.  Denying himself while bringing hi wife so much pleasure.  Then he realized that Tami could have been talking about himself, up until last night.

"Of course..."  She kissed his scalp again.  "That's not something you have to deal with any more!  I'm so proud of you!"

She was turning back to the frying pan but he held her hand.  "Babe... I'm so lucky.  You gave me the finest thing any stone fox can give a dude."  He wasn't fond of using "pimp" slang from his youth but he wanted to sound different on such an occasion.  "Wow."

"I wanted you to be able to come like I can."

"Wow," he blubbered.  "I'm still wiped out."

She returned to the pan and made her own plate.  "So was I, the first time.  It's like a muscle you build up.  In time, you can get taken up a lot of comes and then go on with your day."

He wanted to ask but, knowing how Tami hated quantification, hesitated.  Tami read his mind.  "You came eight times.  About the same as me, when I started."

Rod looked down at his dick, semi-erect.  Usually it was hard this time of morning.  Well, it had gotten a workout.

"Next time, we work on other body parts.  Your dick doesn't have to be hard.  It's good you like having your nipples licked.  Tonight we'll do more stuff."

Rod laughed.  He couldn't help it and didn't know why he did it.  But he laughed, a happy laugh.  This morning he was just a giggling idiot.

Tami smiled, then before she sat down to eat, looked down at her lower hair and picked out a piece of napkin that had gotten stuck there, then fluffed it, as if it were a lush fake-fur coat, or a fine angora sweater.

When his laughter had died down, Rod said, "So what's going today, Babe?"  He wondered how she would spend yet another day not being allowed on campus.

"Today... I heard Lorinda's back in the dorm.  My next project is to tell her I'm sorry."

"Oh man... Do you think there's any chance?  That dried up immature..."

"I have to try, don't I?  Maybe she'll -- understand and drop the charges."

"Maybe pigs will fly."

"Like I said, I have to try.  There's no downside."

"Yes there is.  You can get caught by campus security.  You're not supposed to be on campus."

Tami didn't answer, except to watch Rod finish his breakfast and then to say, "Now get some clothes on, you naked shameless stud."

Part 70

On this spring evening, around the dorms at Campbell - Frank College, the scent of newly risen flowers and fertile, moist earth mingled in the air with young voices from the open windows.  From Pilgrim Hall, Rankin Hall, and the other dorms, students could be heard chatting, laughing, sometimes singing, music from CD's playing here and there.  Mid-terms over, finals a long way away, an easy, carefree season.

In Pilgrim Hall, Room 207, Jeanette and Latosha, sociology majors and best buds, dawdled over their texts for tomorrow's little quiz, stockinged feet up on their desks, lazily lobbing questions at each other while interrupting themselves with what 19-year-old girls talk about, clothes, boys, hair, what's on TV, clothes, shoes, boys, clothes, what's on TV, hair, clothes, shoes, clothes...

Three years ago, on a night like this, a happy naked freshman girl held court in this same room, a room full of friends, her legs casually spread wide, her crotch full of depilation cream, with a little pink clit poking out the middle, a pink mountain poking up from creamy clouds, perking up and down as the girl laughed with her friends, at her jokey hints as to her opinion of the hugeness of her boyfriend's penis.

Tonight, way down below Jeanette and Latosha, a more tanned, older, somewhat more muscular nude crouched furtively and illegally behind a bush, her toes sinking into the moist soil, trespassing and subject to arrest, waiting for the coast to clear.  When no one seemed to be on the paths, she took a quick look at the ledges and cornices above her and then leapt up like a cat, scaling the side of the dorm, fingers and toes curling around each brick, sticking into each crevice, thighs and knees and rough browned nipples scraping against the masonry, tacking to the right, then to the left, her tight gluteals rippling... then up to one side of Jeanette and Latosha as they traded ideas as to their summer wardrobe, then up past them, approaching the window of Room 313.

Somehow Celine, studying in her jeans and T-shirt, was not startled by the tapping on the window.  She had long thought she was psychic, and maybe she was.  She got up from her desk and leaned over and saw the face of Tami Smithers, eyes and forehead partly obscured by the mussed plum-colored hair.  Quite impressed, she craned her neck and noted the trim butt cheeks, then lower down the dexterous bare feet grabbing the two widely separated ledges.

Celine looked around the paths, and saw no one was around.  This unusual and intelligent girl turned the handle on the old- fashioned wrought-iron window and it creaked open.  A bare foot, the sole smeared with wet dirt, thrust in incongruously over the sill, the toes flexing and spreading in a strange sign language as their limber owner worked her way in.  Clutching fingers appeared above on the door jamb, and in a moment Tami Smithers, only a little winded, stood her naked self upright in front of Lorinda's roommate, her chest stuck out, nipples erect as always, bare feet well apart, concave tummy undulating with her breathing.

Without having to speak they looked over at Lorinda, asleep in her bed on the other side of the room.

"You have a lot of courage," Celine said.

"Please don't tell anyone," Tami said.

"You're OK with me.  And with every girl on this wing.  What you did wasn't right but with all the shit you've gone through they should have gone easier on you."  They looked at the injured girl, her jaw wired shut, slumbering in pink pajamas, under a fluffy green comforter.

"If you've come to apologize, or get her to drop the charges," Celine said, "even if she was awake, you'd be taking a huge risk.  You're taking a huge risk anyway.  You're not supposed to be on campus and she's sure to report you."  They looked at Lorinda's regular breathing.  "Not that she'll wake up."

"How is she doing?"

"She's back at class but she's always a little doped up.  So she's not quite her usual snotnose self.  And when she comes in at night, she takes the strong stuff.  Tylenol IV."

Tami suddenly noticed her dirty feet.  "Oh sorry."  She tiptoed ridiculously to the doorway and rubbed her soles on the mat there.

When they got back to regarding the sleeping roommate, Celine said, "She's out cold, Tam.  She can't hear us.  You might as well go... Caroline has a car, she can take you home.  We'll sneak you down the back way so campus security won't see you."  She picked up her bag and started to put on a sweater.  "I have to go tutor someone now anyway."

Tami thought for a moment.  "Can I just sit with her?"

Celine shrugged.  "You can stay if you want.  Suit yourself.  I'll tell Caroline you're here, if you need her.  Room 309."

As Celine was about to open the door she turned and pensively drank in the tanned form of one of the most beautiful female bodies in the world.  Celine had the gift of eloquent speech and now she used it.

"Strange, isn't it?  By rights it's she who should be apologizing to you, for all the abuse she heaped on you all that time.  As her roommate I've seen more of it than anyone.  Four years of constant teasing and humiliation, her seeing every inch of you, into the depths of your embarrassment, you having to look into her eyes as you went through all those unwanted orgasms as a freshman.  And then the teasing and abuse went on and on, all through your undergrad lives, hers and yours.  Tami, forced to be naked, freezing your bare butt off, teased; Lorinda, all protected by clothes and shoes, the tormentor.

"And now, at the very end, your graduating from this school, your career -- all depends on whether SHE will forgive YOU."  Celine put on her knit cap and left.

Tami turned off the overhead light, leaving just the nightlight on.  In the semi-darkness she sat down cross-legged on the fluffy rug.  After a moment she looked up and said, "It's just you and me now... Lorinda?  Lorinda?  Can you hear me?"

She bent forward as if to shake her awake, then changed her mind. 

"Well if you can't hear me, I can say anything, can't I..."

She stretched her toes out and wiped a speck of mud off the third toe of her right foot.  "Sorry for dirtying up your carpet... I gotta do my toes.  I suppose it's coming up on pedicure season for everyone, now.  For me, it's always pedicure season.  I'll stay with the plum... it goes well with snow."

A little mordant grunt.  "Weird.  Wirklich, as they say in German.  I'm in this dorm room surrounded by clothes and shoes.  It sounds strange to talk about toes in the snow.  But it's my life.  At least until tomorrow, when we do the big... status orgasmus project, and I get clothes again."  She shut her eyes and hugged her knees to her chest.  "Clothes, clothes, clothes.  I love being naked but it would be so good to be like everyone else.  I remember in California, at that awful art gallery, when I was stretched out and freezing and Henry Ross --"  a half- serious noise of spitting on the floor at the mention of this name -- "he finally got me to confess that I wasn't really a nudist, I was crying and panicky and freezing and shaking, and I begged him... I didn't beg for clothes, I begged just to be normal.  That's what I am, really.  A normal girl with a good heart, and I love and want to be loved in return.  Just like anyone else."

She stood up.  "I'm not really a nudist, you know.  It was all a pose.  I was a phony.  I went on a stupid streaking dare the first week and got caught.  I told security that nudity was my religion.  The idea just popped into my head.  It was a lie, I was being a coward.  I was just a kid then.  But then Jorgon, remember him, told me that if it was my religion then I had to follow it."  She laughed.  "So now you know.  Crazy, right?  Like some sex story you read on the internet."

She looked over at the long mirror that all dorm doors had on the inside.  "Being naked is great though.  Everyone should be that way.  It's like you feel everything, so much more.  Once you get over the shame.  Being clothed seems like living with a blindfold on.  And you can pick up things, like the change of weather, tiny changes in temperature... I can even 'smell' girls' perfume with my skin.  Don't ask me to explain it."  She cupped her breasts and looked down at her nipples.  "I can even tell when people are thinking, sometimes.  I'd hate to lose that.  So after tomorrow, when I put on clothes, I'll still be naked at home, on weekends, any chance I get."

She looked at her reflection and playfully brought her arms up to a flexing-biceps pose.  "Quite a bod, won't you say?  Look at my waist, it's tiny!  Every girl on campus wants this bod, most of the women professors too."  She turned this way and that.  "I'm not modest at all about it.  All that grounds crew work, and being out in the sun all the time..."

Now she put her arms down and looked at the sleeping girl.  "I know you want this body too.  I've seen you look at me, when you're not ragging me.  Well every little bit of me is out for all the world to see.  Every bare toe, each nipple, my 'private parts' which aren't private at all... no matter what the time of year.  And not only that, but inside me too.  Everyone knows what the inside of my -- pussy -- looks like.  And the inside of my rectum."  She seemed to think a moment, then turned and got down on all fours, and spread her butt cheeks.  "Don't worry, I cleaned myself a while ago.  Jeane keeps giving me flavored enemas, this one's coconut, nice, right?  Unhhh... See my 'inner butthole'?  A drawing class did it last year.  It's not gross at all.  You stuck your finger in here once, remember?  To feel my clenching?  I was terribly shamed but I have to admit, those were some fierce orgasms.  Jen's tongue is amazing."

She stood up again and spread her lower lips.  Her clit jumped up and down.  "Hi hi!"  She giggled, her clit laughing too.  "Weird again.  I talk about my daily life and in this room it sounds weird.  Like I'm an alien.  Maybe I am... The only naked person on the planet."

Tami drifted toward Celine's desk and looked out at the stars.  "Sometimes I imagine I'm from somewhere else.  Like there's a bunch of people who see me and read about me, like I'm a character in a story.  A story board.  Where girls are stripped naked.  And there's other girls.  I'm not the first, or the most popular.  Maybe not the best written, but I am surely the nakedest.  And the story goes on and on.

"I was stripped so long ago, been naked so long... And I imagine people out there saying my story's run its course.  But I have to keep on living.  That's what they don't understand.  They can turn away from my story and go on with their lives... But what about MY life?  I have to still get up every morning, naked, and make my way through the world, naked...

"Sometimes I want to say to those people who read about me: I'm in your head forever.  You read about me going across the country without any clothes or money or stuff, just my bare body and my wits, and I'm still journeying.  Look around.  Behind that bush, there's a naked girl looking at you.  Under that bridge, there's a naked girl looking up at you.  Behind that tree.  Under those stairs.  Behind that garage.  Splashing across that river.  No, that wasn't a dream.  That was Tami, naked, desperately searching for clothes, hoping you'll give her some.

"A naked girl in a world of the clothed.  I feel, like, so alone, unique.  And you know... people keep telling me how strong I am, all the things I've been through, physically, mentally, how all those things were done to me and I didn't crack... how I'm like a super-girl. . ."

She shook her head and stood up straight, her breasts stuck out.  "They're RIGHT, dammit!  I AM a super-girl!  Who could have gone through all that!  I went through hell, I walked naked through blizzards, I made my way naked across the country, hiding from the police, I had..."  She bent over, clutching her stomach.  "I wouldn't let those pony farm people hurt my parents even though that horrid tail thing inside me was banging my ovaries.  God, that's the worst pain I ever felt in my life."  She stood up again.  "I am incredibly strong.  It's just the truth.

"But..."  Her shoulders slumped.  "I don't want to be a super-girl.  When people tell me how strong I am, they set me apart.  It's a way of being lonely.  I want to be a regular girl like everyone else, who wears clothes... I just want to be normal.

"Thank God I have Rod, and my friends, and my family."  She looked down at the tattoo on her toe -- I BELONG TO ROD.  "Rod, he's my anchor.  I am SO lucky to have him.  He feels like he's inadequate, not as strong as me.  But think of how he must feel, walking next to me, with everyone looking at this naked white girl next to him.  Thinking he's a pimp?  Or something.  Not being able to know how in love he really is.  It's been as nerve- wracking for him as it was for me, I can feel it," she said, looking down at her nipples.  "Sticking with me takes courage.

"And a strong tongue."  She laughed.  "Finally I got to give something back to him.  I gave him multiple orgasms last night.  It's possible for guys, you know."

She knelt down next to the sleeping girl.  "People want to know what it feels like, to be naked all the time, have orgasms in public and carry on conversations while my body is jerking like a marionette on someone's tongue.  Well I'll tell you.  I feel like I'm turned inside out and everyone can see my guts and and secret inner self... And... it's really not so bad.  I was stripped naked in every way you could think of.  But I got back a lot more than what was taken from me.  A LOT more."

She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror, and fluffed her pubic hair.  "And I'm not really naked.  My hair is my clothes.  And it's all over me.  Most of me has tiny, tiny hairs if you look close enough.  I'm a beautiful animal.  It's my natural fur."  She fluffed the hair on her head, fluffed her pubic hair again.  "I love my clothes."

A loud snore from Lorinda gave Tami a start.  Without waking, the sleeping girl turned.  In a moment her breathing was as low and regular as before.

"It's the most wonderful feeling.  To come, and come... loud and heavy and... Since I've been, like, abstaining, the last two weeks, I've obsessed on the topic of orgasms.  I've done a lot of reading on it.  There's so much about sex that the average girl doesn't know.  A lot of it is spiritual stuff.  I'm not like that.  I like my orgasms to be physical.  The all-body spasms, jerking right through me, the pounding in my veins, the scream of pure ecstacy.  Yes, yes, YES!!"  She clutched herself, knees shaking, having awakened the sexual urge that she had been trying to suppress.

"GOD I'm horny... Tomorrow's the big day.  Finally my friends'll make me come again.  On and on.  And then... clothes!"

With a sudden look she turned to Lorinda.  "You don't know, do you?  It just struck me.  You've never had an orgasm in your life.  That explains a lot.  That's the real reason you went to that workshop with me and Jen and Ms. Congi.  You're jealous, aren't you? I saw that look of yours.  A few weeks ago, my friends were licking me in the library and you passed by with Celine.  I was going into my spasms, Rosaria was licking my... vagina, Jeane was sucking my toes, Barbara was sticking her finger into my butt and sucking on a nipple, man oh man she likes to bite... and as I crested and my eyes got back into focus, I saw you glance at me.  You were jealous.  No wonder.  I've gotten so much more pleasure than you can ever imagine.

"That was a long, long come.  I thought it would never stop.  People passed by, I think I said hi to Trent, and the waves just kept on and on.  I remember all my comes, really well. . . That one was the twelfth of the day... Twelfth..."

The naked girl's face went slack and she stared at the window.

"Thirty-four thousand, seven hundred sixteen."

She blinked and her eyes got wet.  "Ever since that first one, with that knob up my butt, in Lab 6, Dr. Harridance checking it off on his clipboard... I've counted every damn one.  Thirty-four thousand, seven hundred sixteen."  She shut her eyes.  "DAMN it!!  Why do I have to be so good with numbers!  I can't help counting.  Every single -- come -- I've had, in the back of my mind I COUNT it!  Every damn one for three and a half years!"  She shook her head.  "No matter how close I feel to Rod, no matter how... great... explosive each one is, reaching deep into my... soul... in the back of my mind I COUNT!  Like that damn scoreboard thing in Lab 6!"  Now hands went up to eyes as if to block out a horrible sight.  "I want to wipe it out, forget about it... but I just can't ever stop it.  It's in the marrow of my bones, that deep secret place where no one can ever go but me, but in that secret place, there's Mr. McMasters and those assistants and those damn giant dildos pumping into me... and I have to look them in the eye each time!!!  Ross!  I hate Henry Ross!!  But he's always in that secret place!!  Shouting at me, calling Rod a -- a bad word... his face staring right into me... ohhh..."

Tami crumpled to the floor and sniffled, her hands still over her eyes, curled up into a fetal position, clutching her knees closed with her elbows, one foot over the other so that at least one set of bare toes would be covered.  She sobbed sofly for a few moments.  Then she was quiet.  A few minutes went by, the naked girl curled up on the rug, Lorinda snoring in her drug- induced slumber before turning again and breathing silently.

Tami recovered, catching her breath.  She uncurled and opened her eyes.  "Sorry," she muttered ridiculously to her unconscious audience.

She stood up, breasts heaving as she caught her breath, and faced Lorinda's sleeping form.

"Lorinda, I just want to say I'm really sorry for what I did.  I lost control, but that's no excuse.  I knew how strong I was and I came this close to killing you."  Tami held up her hand and put her thumb a half inch from her index finger and looked at it.  "This... close...

"I don't blame you if you don't forgive me.  But just think of me sometimes, OK?  When you get the urge to feel mean to someone, when you get jealous of a girl who's got a good body and you want to humiliate her by ripping her clothes off... just think of me."

Tami went to the window and looked out.  It was late now and the voices were fewer and quieter, the paths deserted.  She opened the window and looked out at the campus.  "Guess my time here is over.  Or nearly so.  It's been a really long and wild ride.  A naked ride, of course."  And then she flipped around and set her toes down on the brickface outside and was gone.

Part 71

The frigid wind blowing in their faces, the ten heavily clothed friends, and Rod and Dr. Kantor and Dr. Abu-Jamal, stood in a circle, some of them sipping hot coffees, and regarded the naked young woman in their midst.

Tami Smithers, once and soon to be wearer of clothes, stood upright, her bare feet, the reddened toes, the world's thickest soles, flat on the crusty ice, her bare skin flushed with the cold, her breasts bravely thrust forward, her nipples rock hard facing the cold blasts, her shoulders back, the wind ruffling her neck-length hair, the plum color sparkling in the bright arctic sun, her green eyes barely visible as she squinted, her pubic hair ruffling furiously in the wind, her hands in tight fists at her hips.

This was Mount Washington, New Hampshire, famously cold and windy, even on what was a pleasant April day down at the college.  A spot carefully chosen by the Chalfont committee.  To the left, a little gulley deep with snow, and further up, a level clearing with Sessu all bundled up, beating his gloved hands together, stamping his clumpy Inuit boots, next to his scaffold-like device, which he referred to informally as "the Tami lover".

Rod, the appropriate M.C. of this event, tried in vain to scratch his itchy thermals under three layers of clothes and thick gloves.  He felt miserable, thinking once again of a high school band in nice long wool uniforms and thermals marching behind a nearly naked majorette who was twirling a baton and freezing her bare buns off.  He was not good at extemporaneous speeches.  He had composed something to say, as he held up in front of him the warm fake-fur coat just in Tami's size.  Next to him, Jen and Leisha held up the fluffy gloves, the warm fluffy boots.

"Babe, I know you told me you didn't want to be cold any more.  Today you will be cold, very cold, but you are clothed with love from me and from your many many friends.  And in a little while your friends will... love you, and you will have clothes again.  It will be a big jolt, and a big risk, but I know it'll end up OK.  You will not be cold any more.  You will be all snuggled up in warmth, all over your body, and you will never have to be naked again.  Only when you want to be.  No more having to be.  And you can go anywhere you want."  He felt himself getting wordy and cut himself off.

He nodded to Dr. Abu Jamal, who took the long thermometer out of its case and tapped on the remote reader to turn it on.  Then he handed it to Georgene and Spica, the TL's who had drawn lots to win this honor.

Spica had wanted to be naked too, out of solidarity, but Georgene had wisely talked her out of it.  So Spica in her bright purple peacoat and black jeans and Uggs, and Georgene in her full-length insulated jacket and ski cap and hiking boots, approached their naked Queen.  Tami turned around and bent to touch her ankles.  She spread her legs, her toes spreading and grabbing the ice, and limber as she was, bent and bent until her forehead was on the ground.

They had practiced it over and over so it was easy.  Georgene applied the vaseline to the tip and then Spica brought it to the world's most recognized anus, part of the TLs' playground, which Tami helpfully dilated to the size of a quarter.  Everyone cringed in their coats as they thought of the subfreezing wind curling around inside Tami's most secret place. Spica slid the long flexible tube in to the place that the TL's playfully referred to as the "vault", further, further, until it met a little resistance, and Tami twisted her hips a little and it slid in even further, ten inches or so.  Then the anus closed around it.

For the TL's this was a bittersweet day.  They wanted to do what was best for Tami, but knew that it meant the end of their way of life, that beginning soon they would not have the benefit of the sight of their Queen's beauty at all times, the ready access to every precious curve and crevice of her body.  Georgene and Spica each placed a gloved hand onto a bare butt cheek and kissed it.  "We love you, Queen."

Tami was starting to shiver but was able to bob the end of the thermometer up and down, waving it in everyone's faces.  Then, as only she could do, she waved it left to right, then in a circle.  Which brought a smile to everyone.

She stood up and turned to them and gave her body an exaggerated shake all over, meant to be jokey, but they still cringed, and almost cried, thinking of the warmth they enjoyed in their coverings, which she was still denied, which she had been denied for three and a half years... but now...

Georgene and Spica held her hands as she walked over a little ridge, her toes curling over the icy rocks, then into the little valley where she lay down on her side.  This was the most disquieting part of the process and Rod just didn't want to take part, no one did.  But Rosaria and Jen and Trent and Cyrus and Melissa got the shovels out of the big van and carefully spread the snow onto the white naked form.  Rod could barely look.  The shovelfuls fell gently, as if burying a beloved pet.

In five minutes Tami Smithers was hidden under a pile of snow.  Rod sidled over to Dr. Abu Jamal, watching his remote reader.  Tami's rectal temperature was 36 degrees Celsius, which was normal.  The plan was to chill her to 30, the verge of hypothermia, then fish her out and...

He looked at the fluffy pile of snow and kept telling himself that Tami was in no danger.  Abu Jamal had told him about cryogenic surgery in Russia, how they would chill the body so as to minimize infection and unexpected bleeds.  Of course, those patients were put under first.  Poor naked Tami was wide awake and could feel every degree of the intense cold, cold, colder...

He shut his eyes and turned.  Then he made himself turn back.  The TL's, and Trent, and Cyrus, they were gathered around, as if it was a snowy grave and they were paying their respects.  In a sense the image was apt.  The old Tami was being buried away and a new Tami would soon emerge, the clothed Tami, like a phoenix rising from ashes, though instead of immolation it was via deep freeze.

His gaze lifted up to the deep blue of the clear mountain sky.  He pondered that he was actually looking at the stars, too faint to consciously detect, but they were out there anyway.  Like the stars in the desert sky that Tami looked at long ago, naked and cold and praying for help, or baking in the sun, or contemplating the nighttime gegenschein and the universe, as the rough grass of the Texas chaparral scraped her bare butt.  How he wished he could have helped then.  At the time he was doing an engineering internship, thinking she was doing similar work for a math professor.

It was like a segment of her life that was ending... Tami: The Naked Years. He would miss her...

Giving him a playful goodbye kiss, then taking the short way to campus, hopping through the woods like a rabbit, breasts bouncing, bare feet finding each stone and log, deceptively speedy, suddenly disappearing behind the thickets of leaves and bushes...

Her amazing capacity for alcohol.  She was particular about her martinis.  "I'm not allergic to vermouth, you know..."

The footraces she would always win at the annual charity carnival, scooting way past the competition on the quad on tough bare feet...

The public celebration of her glorious nudity, the "match Tami's nipples" contest to benefit the local food bank, two tickets to a Red Sox game for the person who could find a scarf the same color as her areolas, a matter of weather forecasting as much as anything else as more sun meant tanner nipples, Tami proudly and smilingly holding up the winning scarf next to her nipples for the campus paper...

Tami convulsing from orgasm to orgasm as she cheerfully chatted with friends passing by in the library lounge, waving hi to professors, talking about classes and politics and "American Idol" in sentences punctuated by moans and gasps, as TL's licked and sucked and noodled her from below, in front, behind... Laughing at jokes... Jeane's boyfriend Mike expressed the campus consensus.  "The sound of Tami coming and laughing at the same time is the happiest sound in the world."

The refusal to take bullshit.  That creep at the math major convocation making a crack about him being her pimp, and then getting all embarrassed and saying, "I'm sorry, Tami.  I didn't know he was your husband."  And Tami downing her martini and flicking a drop off her nipple and saying, "If he wasn't, it would have been just as big a mistake.  Apology NOT accepted..."

The occasional German phrase.  "Mochtest du wein?"  "Would you like some wine?"  "Germany is such a totally naked-friendly country..."

The spunky Recording Secretary of the Student Government, standing up pluckily and nakedly in front of the monthly meetings, taking attendance, chiding those who were late...

The wild fashion ride of her sophomore year, her crotch the center of the campus's attention, the riot of pubic hair dyes, shavings, braids, ribbons, stopped on the campus paths with legs widely and proudly spread as seemingly half the campus crowded around to compliment her... showing off her new toenail polish, her spread toes sparkling with snow...

The surprisingly good reception of his old neighbors in Roxbury when they took a chance and visited together.  Having tea in that old house, that his mother really couldn't take care of any more.  The neighborhood had aged, it was still mostly black but all those folks were now old, and they cottoned to her (children of sharecroppers) and treated her like visiting royalty, old Mr. Granger and Mr. Madison and Mr. McCabe and their wives, who looked on tolerantly as the wizened old men politely but eagerly took in the doubly out of place whiteness of Tami's magnificent nudity...

The bareness of her body next to the lab coats of everyone else, working closely with Gretchen on the new fabric that would be warm in the cold and breathe in the heat, for people like Joe and Roger, serving their country...

That Tami, the Tami who was soon no longer to be, would always be with him, would always be with everyone who met her.  They would see visions of a naked girl for the rest of their lives, hiding behind buildings, lounging in streams, crouched on tree branches, darting through hallways, watching, bearing witness to misfortunate and evil and meanness and how simple loving bravery can win out...

"Rodney!  Mr. Sykes!"

Rod's reverie was interrupted by the high-pitched voice of Dr. Abu Jamal, who pointed out the 30 degrees on the remote reader, and the bluish toes sticking out of the pile of snow.  Trent and Cyrus and Melissa and Spica dug down with their gloved hands to the interred hands and feet and head, per instructions.  They gently leveraged the bluish, stiff, naked form upright, snow stuck to her all over.  They held her by both arms as her snow- encrusted feet stumbled up to where Sessu and the scaffold awaited.

She had to be tied to it; otherwise she would slip out.  Wrists and ankles were fastened and Tami now was stretched out into a bent-forward X, every inch subject to the full force of the biting wind.  The TL's carefully assembled near their stations.

Jen and Georgene stood in front, looking up to contemplate the snowy face, the closed eyes, the hair frozen to the scalp.  "Well, it's time," Georgene said.  "Go ahead."

"No, you."  Jen's pretty African-American face framed in the Peter Pan haircut smiled magnanimously.

"Oh thank you..."  Georgene hugged Jen, surprised and grateful for the honor.  Then Georgene composed herself and sat on the ledge in front of Tami's pussy.  She breathed on the chunks of snow stuck to the plum-colored lower hair to melt them.  Then her tongue reached out, sparklng wetly and brightly in the mountain sun, and made contact, laying flat against Tami's vulva.

Jeane and Melissa were seated down on each side and, in coordination, each sucked on a little toe, then worked their way up.  Spica and Rosaria sucked on fingers.  Starting with the extremities was the best way to get the blood going again, beginning the long journey up.  Now Leisha took a place at one nipple, Jen at the other, holding hands.  Finally Myra took her seat behind, spread Tami's butt cheeks, and noodled her tongue inward.

The men, Rod and the two doctors and Trent and Cyrus and Sessu, stood around, Rod holding the coat, Trent holding the gloves, Cyrus the boots, as the young women slowly brought the half-frozen corpse to life.  Tami's eyes opened, at first a dull stare, and then she blinked and slowly turned to Rod and a weak smile, until her head was jerked away by an ardent suck by Georgene coordinated with an ardent thrust by Myra's tongue.  The TL's were once again, maybe for the last time, frolicking in their playground, Tami's body.  The naked skin lost its bluish hue and went to purplish and then to reddish.  Tami was being escalated by stages.

Status orgasmus is a sustained orgasm, Rod had been instructed, starting with a two to four second "spastic contraction", then lasting possibly lasting 45 seconds.  He pondered that.  45 seconds.  He sat down once, with his watch, and waited the full 45 seconds.  That was a long, long orgasm.  Working with the TL's, Dr. Kantor had plotted the surest way to get there, so that endorphins could be maximized and prolonged as clothing was applied.

The first grunt from Tami grabbed the men's attention.  The TL's were working together, playing each part of Tami's body in tandem, like an orchestra in the first movement of a symphony.  Tongues were now assisted by gloved hands and coated arms as Tami was rubbed and caressed, her butt, her legs, her back, her shoulders, her face, her tummy.  As if in aggregation the tongues and arms were her covering, her clothes.

Soon she was grunting rhythmically, as if she were an animal with no power of speech, as the TL's jabbed with their tongues.  "Huh... unhh... huh... huh..."  They were going up too fast.  Jen, her mouth not leaving the nipple, held up her arms and the tongues slowed down, backed off somewhat.  Tami gritted her teeth as if in agony, being so long denied, now forced to wait when she least wanted it.  Her legs stiffened, her toes spread.  Still going up too fast, Jen brought down her flat palms, like a conductor signaling pianissimo.  The sucking ceased, tongues barely kept contact, gloved hands caressed butt cheeks and shoulders and thighs gently, very very gently, barely touching the electrified skin.

"Ohhh... Jesussss... "  Tami's concave tummy quaked, her body reddish and actually sweating in the cold, her breath making a little clouds.  She was actually giving off heat, as if she could melt the mountain all by herself.  The TL's were sweating too under their coats, in their own peculiar euphoria.

Sessu had been overseeing how his invention had held out -- pretty well -- but now had another role.  He handed out the contents of his bag to each TL.  A short whip-like thing, with ribbons two feet long.  The TL's drew away from their Queen's body and flicked the ribbons lightly against her, drawing them lightly over each inch of her body, across her nipples, along her anus, between her pussy lips, across her soles.

"Ohhh... ohhh please..." Tami strained mightly at her bonds with all her considerable strength.  The scaffold groaned and creaked but held.  The whole structure shook with her frustration.

Now the TL's withdrew further and started whipping her with the ribbons.  Harder and harder, the sibilant smack of each blow crackling through the wintry air.  Jen and Leisha seared each breast alternately, making them jump back and forth.  Myra whipped at the anal ring furiously.  Georgene was assisted by Spica, who held the lower lips wide apart as Georgene whipped the ribbons against Tami's clit, poking out red and stiff and wet, steam seeming to come off it.

"AIEEEE!!  AIEEEE!!"  Tami's body jumped with each lash, jumping in a different direction depending on where the lash fell.

And now the whips were flung aside and all eight tongues bore in, and Tami's eyes popped wide open as the TL's worked all their strength and all their skill and all their love, pushing her up, up, up to the top --

The great spastic contraction rocked the scaffold and almost threw the TL's back onto the snow.  Rod and his assistants looked at each other and approached for the great moment.  Now the first jolt shook the scaffold, then the second, then the third...

It was not an ordinary orgasm.  Rod counted.  Jolt, jolt, jolt... he could hardly imagine the ecstasy the naked girl was experiencing... twelve jolts, thirteen, fourteen...

He looked quickly at Dr. Kantor and Dr. Abu Jamal.  Yes, this was it -- the status orgasmus!

"I LOVE YOU BABE!" he shouted as he enshrouded the heavy coat around Tami's heaving shoulders.  Trent fitted the gloves at the bound wrists.  Cyrus slipped on the boots at the bound ankles.

"AAIIIRRGGHHHHH!!"  A great roar tore from her throat, echoing off the wintry slopes, off the rock face, as the metabolism of Tami Smithers was wrenched violently and permanently and irrevocably into another direction --