Day to Day Life in an Indian Dorm

Frog boy started stammering about his love for Chelsea and how he would protect her. I whispered into frog boy's ear that he was making a fool out of himself. The father was a busy man. He should take off his clothes and let him move on with his schedule. Frog boy tried to look around the news paper for a signal from the principal. Yet, a quick jab to his chest with my elbow got him to start undressing. He neatly unbuttoned his shirt and put it over the backrest of his chair. He folded his pants over and placed them over the armrest. He was wearing large checkered boxer shorts that had been pressed and crumpled up by his pants. He took them off with the green socks. Then, he gently trying to avoid interrupting the principal walked around the desk. The poor principal jumped up in his chair as he sighted frog boy. Frog boy did us even better. He reached for his penis and pulled back the foreskin, presenting it to the principal: "See, it is completely healthy. I have never slept with another girl. So, I can't have any diseases."

The principal started rolling his leather chair away from frog boy. After a second or two or registering frog boys intend look for an evaluation, the principal sternly said 'not what I had in mind.' I waived frog boy to come back to me. He sat down next to me. I whispered in his ear that his penis was disappointingly small. It wasn't. Her father surely disapproved. Frog boy could try to save himself by getting an erection. Sometimes, a small penis grew much larger than a large penis with all the blood. Frog boy was eyeing the door like he wanted to escape and the window like he wanted to be a bird and never have to deal with such human affairs.

I started whispering into frog boy's ear that I had seen Chelsea naked at a sleep over once. Her boobs were one of the most awe inspiring feats of nature. Her hair was so soft that it falling onto his chest would mesmerize him. When he would look in her eyes, really close as during a break of a deep passionate tongue kiss, he would get mesmerized. She would pull him into her soul. Her hands that he had surely felt would be caressing his organ, while her lips would be kissing the tip barely on his penis just wrapped around his penis hole. The young man had a stiffy standing up. It was red. It was textured with veins and little bumpy patches all around. The principal started hitting the news paper on the desk in rapid succession, as if he was hyper ventilating. I whispered into frog boys' ear that this was the way that medical practitioners applauded. The father was surely in awe of his manhood and approved him taking her daughter. I told frog boy to leave through the side door. Chelsea had already prepared a boudoir of love for them their.

In reality, the room was filled with a group of alumni, who were going to verify my fulfillment of the late admission rule. Frog boy had walked right into a bunch of women, who were ready to enjoy the gift of a naked and erect man. I don't know, what really happened there. Frog boy was surely in for something. The principal decided to overlook the beginning. He reviewed my transcript and asked me a bunch of academic questions. Afterward, I walked home alone with Chelsea. The alumni group told us that they would keep frog boy overnight. We never saw him again.

At the last family breakfast before leaving for college, her parents took little note of her. The small kitchen table was filled with food. The food was still in its packaging as it rested on the plywood table top. Chapattis were in an opened plastic bag. Yellow lentil dal was in a little plastic cup. Both were picked up fresh from a little corner cart. My mother loved the chain of corner carts called Trader Jenita. A spice bottle of paprika and turmeric were next to my father's books. My father was reading computer science book for his job, as he was holding a cup of coffee in his other hand. My mother kept repeating over and over 'Good morning, how can I help you?'

She worked in a call center. Her biggest pride was her accents. She claimed to be able to say her lines in five different American accents: Texan, New Yorker, valley girl, Mid Western, and Florida-Cuban. In reality, she said her lines always the same way, only her facial expressions changed. When she was talking in Florida Cuban, she pulled her lips apart wide and rolled them a bit over. When she talked like a New Yorker, she would sit up more straight, pull her nostrils a bit in, and pucker her lips together as if she were sipping tea in high company. When she talking in her valley girl accent, she always slouched down a bit, twirled her hair, and rolled her eyes in circles.

Her managers mostly ignored her tick, except for this one time. This one time, she was put on probation and it wasn't really her fault. Though, who fact checks, when you are replaceable? Her job was talking to McDonald's customers at drive-throughs all over America. Her computer would flash her the location of the McDonald's, anticipated wait time, and any local additions to the standard menu. One time, she was routed a call from Quebec by accident. The routing software was so poor that it did not recognize that people in Quebec speak French rather than English. My ma tried to make up for the company's shoddiness, as all front line employees have to. She tried to speak English with her best French accent. Apparently, she must have actually managed to sound differently, because the customer got extremely incensed thinking that she was mocking his French accent. He nearly burned down the place, as my mother tried to placate the customer still speaking with her French accent. Ever since, she started practicing at the breakfast table.

All that what has happened does not matter anymore. Everything that will happen after college won't matter. I have no illusions that in life, I do not fit in society. However, this four years in this special college will rule. My feet were pressing down on Sheela's face. Her lips were open and looked like a fish as I was pressing on her cheeks with both of my bare feet. My feet were soft, moist, and the toe nails are well manicured. They look good on her medium brown face with the long open hair falling on the floor as she laid there. I tried to push my toe up her nostril. It only stretched her nose and did not enter: "Lets see if we can get some buggers out of your snotty girl. Well not so much. Here, lick the soles of my feet. I have been walking around all evening barefoot. They should be dusty and dirty." Indeed, they were gray. Sheela's tongue eagerly licked over the balls and in between the toes. She suckled on each toe individually. Oh, the emotion of feeling that was so overwhelming. There are so many nerve endings in the feet. I loved it.

Sheela is my bunk made in the college dorm. In the first week, our room mother Trishana, a senior student, had given Sheela the task to wash my back and any other hard to reach place for a week. Sheela had not liked the demeaning nature of serving another girl. She ran away for a day. As a result, Trishana had given me Sheela completely for a week. For the second week of college, I could do with Sheela what and however I pleased. Right now, she was worshipping my feet. "Keep licking and show me your tongue every once in a while. I want to see the dirt on my feet make your tongue dusty and brown." When Sheela showed me her tongue for the third time, it had hair on it and some black dots that my feet had picked up on the floor. It had a grayish hue. I was satisfied. I deeply tongue kissed her to show her that no matter, how deep we sink, we are all sisters and share. She tasted, how I'd imagined a cigarette tray would taste. All along Anisha and Babbita had intently observed us. They were new. They were learning about the true nature of dorm life at this college.

Oh, did I mention that we were naked. Yes, the dorm rules were that from dawn to dusk, all freshmen girls had to be naked. I may tell you more about that some other time. Yes, I was seeing Anisha and Babbita naked. I was seeing their breasts, bellies, and navel buttons. I saw, all their secrets, the stretch marks, the birthmarks, the cute parts of their body. Anisha had the cutest girl triceps that I have ever seen. When watching her from behind, you could see the three strands of muscle weave. There was simply something so adorable about them that it made them the sexiest part of her body.

When I had sated my appetite for Sheela's saliva and sharing her suffering, I sent her to the door. The door knob began as a skinny round metal rod extending out of the door and curving around to be parallel to the door. The metal rod widened on the last half inch, so that the wooden handle could be screwed in. The wooden handle was round and smooth. Near the beginning was a narrow section of half an inch. The rest of it was a bulge that was widest in the middle. The wood was completely untreated, so that it would not repel liquid. In fact, it would soak in liquid and get wet. Sheela unscrewed the wooden handle and brought it over to me.

I put the wooden handle into my pussy. I put it in deep, so that only a small finger hold stood out. The thinnest part at the front of the handle was at the beginning of my cave, just were it is the tightest to hold it in place. I started doing the kegel exercises of squeezing my pubococcygeus muscle (pc muscle) around the shaft of the door handle. Trishana, our room mother, had instructed us to practice one hundred squeezes daily. In a few weeks time, we'd be tested. A nut would be put into our vaginas. We had to show the strength of our sex muscle by crushing the nut. Special rewards or even privileges were promised to the ones passing the test.

When I was done, I handed the door handle to Anisha for her exercises. Sheela was to be the last one to use the wood piece according to my instruction. I wanted her to feel all of our pussy juices on the wood. Thus, she would have to put all of us inside of her pussy. She would have to accept us and welcome us in her holiest part of her body. Thus, she would hopefully accept this world and not run away a second time. The wood had already wet blotches from my pussy. There was even a drizzle of my white mucous on the end. Anisha did her exercises. Babbita always cried during them. It made me want to dominate her even more, yet I had to always wait for Trishana to hand out any punishment to Babbita to vicarious enjoy her suffering. Sheela was quiet as well. She returned the door handle to the door.

Trishana burst into our room the next morning. She roused us. She was dressed of course. She had us stand in a line for inspection like on the first day of college. Back then, we had been timid and had to be disrobed forcefully. Now, we were standing there stark naked every day in front of her to be thoroughly appraised by Trishana. Trishana was a beautiful woman. The portions on her body were even. The breasts were beautiful. Her hair was well done. Her voice was clear and heart warming. She told us that she was not always like that. She had been groomed like we were now. Trishana had pointed out Sheela's scrawny body. Now, every morning Sheela was on an exercise program.

The first exercise was for her to squat to work her thighs and butt. In the squat position, she would have to lean forward and kiss the feet of someone. Thus, Sheela was sent to the rooms of the other girls to ask them as a favor to help her with her exercise. Trishana had asked her to always pick the girl that most repulsed her, the ugliest girl. Sheela had told me that she was once in a room with a very chubby girl. Her belly hung over her private part. Her feet were yellow and smelly, possibly from fungi. Following Trishana's order, she asked that girl. She was near crying.

The second exercise was to do sit ups. She had to sit between the standing legs of the volunteer girl. Whenever she sat up, she had to kiss or lick the vagina of the standing girl. She was only allowed to stop the exercise, when the volunteer girl was thus turned on that her pussy got wet. When a drop of pussy juice from the volunteer girl fell onto Sheela's pussy, she was allowed to proceed to the next exercise. The first times, Sheela had not known how to position herself to catch the pussy drop with her pussy. Thus, she had to labor extra hard until perhaps the fifth or sixth pussy juice drop would land on her.

The final exercise had the volunteer girl take one of her used panties and tie it to a string. The volunteer girl would walk up and down the hallway pulled her panty behind her. Sheela had to crawl on the floor after the panty, as if it were bait for a dog or cat to follow. The panties had sometimes brown stains, when a girl had not wiped herself well enough or farted too hard into the panties. Sometimes, it was sticky up front or even yellowish. Sometimes the whole panty smelled rancid after a hard workout in phys ed. Sheela had to rally forward after that bunch like it was a prize. After a few days of this procedure, Sheela had started to develop eager feelings to get her mouth around those panties. The stains, smell, and all were signs of the real and intimate person that the wearer was. Sheela started loving the girls that way. Yet, before she could lounge for the bait, she had to crawl after it. The exercise was to crawl. Crawling low required an immense effort of her muscles to push her on. She was not allowed to crawl high. She had to crawl low, so that her nipples would rub on the floor at all times. Her breast would collect the dirt of the ground. She was in effect sweeping the ground. The volunteer girls mostly made sure that she got every corner of the floor, so that she would not have to sweep the floor later herself.

Sometimes, girls in the rooms that she passed would toss juice in front of her. Then, Sheela's stomach would get wet and sticky. All the grime and long girl hear really collected on her. From the breast down to her pussy would a dark gray line of dirt collect on her. Sometimes a girl would come out of a room and step on her naked butt intentionally: "Oh sorry, I stepped on your broom." Her pelvis bone would be pressed against the ground. It would send a stimulating sensation through her whole body. The physical push, the feeling of denigration, the sensory stimulation of the panty often turned Sheela on. She would wash herself later of all the grime. She had to sometimes pull hair and dirt out of her pussy. It often stuck and pulled her intimate skin. Sometimes, she would masturbate.

I saw her like that sullen by herself a few times. That day, Sheela was off to find a volunteer girl. So, Trishana had turned to me. Her fingers nails were gliding up and down my thighs. She was trying each one of my quadriceps. The sharp edge made me tingle. I started feeling passive, as I let her handle my body. I had thought about doctor office visits, where doctors had handled me like an object. I remembered, how silently, I relished the feeling of being handled. Trishana's verdict was that my worst challenge was uneven quadriceps. The muscle had developed in that way, because I walked like a cow girl with my feet turned out. Thus, my muscles had developed uneven. I would need to do a lot of conscious walking, where I'd place my feet straight and roll them meticulously.

Trishana promised that she had just the right thing to motivate me to walk a lot, as she guided me to a neighboring dorm room. This was the room of aspiring art majors. The walls were lined with paintings by pencil, water color, and glued paper snippets. A red painting had two women's faces in opposite corners with open mouths. The tongues reached towards each other like banners flying into the air. In fact, where the tongues were supposed to meet, they were simply continuous, as if they were born together like that. A hand drawing had a girl with black wings flying high into the air. She was wearing a black leather bodice and wielding a whip with one hand. An edged drawing showed a Japanese girl with her cute big eyes face and pony tell. Her top was so short that it only covered the nipples and top half of the breast. A tiny panty covered her privates, as she looked at the onlooker in an alluring way.

After the room mother of that room gave permission, Trishana addressed the girls. They were eagerly sitting on a bed next to each other. They wanted to learn more about the dark and intriguing rules and customs of this dorm.

"Today, I am going to teach you, an energy meditation. This is Radha. She is my assistant today. As you know, we all have seven major energy centers called chakras. Each one has a specific location on the body, function, and energy."

"Muladhara is located at your anus. Its element is the earth. It is grounding. It gives us support from Mother Nature, as we stand on the earth. While we may fall on the Earth, the Earth always catches us and carries us. Sometimes all the studying can get us into our heads. So, it is important to ground. One grounding ritual is to put weight on us. It has a calming effect."

Trishana directed a girl, Devan, to lie naked on the floor. The next girl was asked to lie on top of her. She put her naked body on top of Devan. They lay boob to boob, belly to belly, and pubic bone to pubic bone. Their faces were nestled in each others hair. The other two girls were directed on top. Devan was breathing hard as her chest had to lift the three girls, yet she felt the love of her three roommates. Her face looked sedated. It evidently felt good to have the body hug from above. Beneath it felt good in a different way. The layer under the skin was very slippery. Thus, while the surface of the skin stuck well to skin, the whole skin moved around. It required a bit of balance to stay even on top of the next girl. One had to be careful about the bones beneath the skin to distribute the weight among the shoulders, hips, and ribs.

So pinned down, Trishana instructed me to paint the Muladhara symbol around Devan's asshole. It was a red triangle inside a circle with four petals around it. There were plenty of markers around in the room. Getting to Devan's asshole was trickey. I had to work my way in between the tangle of trim young girl thighs. Then, Devan's ass was squooshed against the floor. I had to reach in between the butt checks and pull them apart againsthe weight of five girls. While I painted it, my face was right against the stack of four dark brown vagina lips. Each one was so different. Some very flabby, others were tight and smooth. The room mother grinned immediately upon seeing it. It was like she knew something. Trishana continued, while the girls were still in a pile.

"Svadhisthana is located around the sex organ. Obviously, it controls sexual energy among other things. Its element is water. It is fluid, flowing, ever moving in undefined forms. Imagine a pool of water. The bright lines of light that get focused by the waves always ripple around in shapes that the eyes can't see fast enough to define. To meditate on this energy, we do the following exercise. Whatever space you see, move through it. If you see two thighs together, press yourself through it. If you see an arm next to a body, wiggle yourself through. If you see two roommates leaning against each other, tunnel your way through in between."

The top girl sat up and dove forward in between all their legs. Her chest rubbed and belly rubbed down the girls bottoms. Once she reached the bottom, she wound her way to the side in between two different girls' thighs. The third girl on top leaned sideways to slither in between the second girl and Devan. She wedged her head in between their bellies just bellow the boobs. She could not see anything. She only felt their smooth skin sliding past her cheeks and ears, as they sucked in their bellies to make space for her. As she pulled her body after head through the press, a hand touched her pussy. Her own hand was pushing against a thigh and a rib to make herself move. The top girl had not reached the side of the third girls head. Seeing the gap between the third's arm pushing against the thigh, the first girl dove into the packet with her chest, while her legs were still twisted with the other girls. Quickly, legs and arms were everywhere. Heads were pushed against pussies, butts were pushed against arms, and breasts were stroking backs. The red symbol of the previous chakra left marks on the other girls showing in how many places she had rubbed her anus against them.