Tami Beethoven

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...