Titmouse College - A CFNM Story

Chapter 1

"I'd like everyone to please give a warm round of applause to our nude professor!"

The two thousand assembled students and faculty at Titmouse College opened with thunderous applause, before the Dean had even finished her sentence. Newly hired Professor Grant chuckled to himself, "For a second there, I thought she said 'nude'," while he waited for the applause to die down.

Grant did have nudity on his mind, ever since applying for a teaching position at the small, reclusive, and secluded Titmouse College. Titmouse had traditionally been an all girls school, since it's establishment over two hundred years ago -- even the faculty were comprised entirely of women. That, in and of itself, was not especially interesting to Grant. What did interest him were the rumours of the school's unique methods of discipline.

Titmouse forced its misbehaving student to strip naked, and attend class with their tits and pussies on full display to their fellow students and teachers. They were publicly spanked and even forced to masturbate in full view of everybody. At least ... those were the rumours anyway.

Grant was never able to find any pictures or videos online to corroborate that, but not for lack of trying. He would often spend hours looking online, pleasuring himself at the thought of seeing all these 18 to 25 year old beauties naked before him.

It remained nothing but an idle fantasy, until the day he caught wind of a job opening at Titmouse. Grant's curiosity was highly piqued... there hadn't been a job opening at Titmouse for nearly 15 years. He knew there was no chance he'd actually be accepted, but he just couldn't get the picture of naked female students out of his head.

During one of his late night masturbation sessions, while his head was still clouded by arousal, he submitted his resume for the Titmouse position. Maybe he'd be able to at least finagle a tour of the campus. As soon as he hit 'Send' he came in an explosive orgasm, and fell asleep, completely forgetting that he had even submitted his resume.

A few days later, he was shocked to receive an email from Vanessa Wilder, the Dean of Titmouse College, asking to arrange a video interview that afternoon.

The interview went much better than Grant could have dreamed. Vanessa was warm and friendly, and while Grant didn't dare ask outright about the possibility of nude students he did learn that she considered the school to be 'highly progressive' in her own words.

Vanessa concluded the interview by agreeing to email Grant a few brochures and a teaching contract.

Grant had already made up his mind about joining the Titmouse College Faculty by the end of the interview. Even if the rumours of nude students were false, the school itself was a state-of-the-art facility, with on-campus residents for all the students and faculty -- there was even a grocery store, and the natural scenery was breathtaking. Even though Vanessa had offered him a 10% lower salary than he was making now, the added bonus of potential naked sights along with the natural landscape made the job irresistible to Grant.

Nevertheless, when the brochures arrived, he quickly browsed them for pictures of any naked women. Nothing at all stood out in any of the literature or his contract, until he came to two brief passages about Dress Codes near the end of the student handbook.

Uniform dress code for students is as follows: black shoes, white socks or stockings, knee-length pleated grey skirt, white button-up blouse, grey and red pullover sweater-vest with school logo. Undergarments shall not be visible.

At the start of each week one member of the lesser sex will be chosen at random to waive their uniform for the duration of the week. Participation is mandatory.

Grant read over that passage several times, committing it to memory while fantasizing about naked students. He noted that there was no distinction between male or female students in the dress code, and filed it in the back of his brain.

"The language is a bit archaic and it doesn't outright say naked, but this has got to be it! One women has to do without her uniform every week."

Grant was hard and drooling over the thought that he'd get to see a new naked woman at his workplace every single week. He immediately signed the contract and emailed his acceptance back to Vanessa. Within a minute he received a response from Vanessa.

"Excellent! Would you be able to start Monday? Your accommodations on campus are already fully furnished."

Grant and Vanessa spent a couple brief moments hammering out the logistics and, confident in his new position, Grant emailed his current employer to tell them to fuck off. Perhaps he should have been more diplomatic, but he had no qualms about burning that bridge, secure in the knowledge that he had found his dream job.

Five days later — Monday morning — at eight o'clock sharp, Grant parked his car at Titmouse campus packed with all his worldly belongings. As he stepped out of his vehicle to head up to Vanessa's office, a group of nearby students stared at him in open curiosity. Evidently they were unaccustomed to seeing any men on campus. He gave an awkward wave, and scanned the area for any sign of naked bodies. In the distance he glimpsed the bare backside of one blonde woman, walking with a group of her fully clothed peers. His eyes grew wide.

"Jackpot! I am gonna love it here," Grant said softly to himself.

He entered the administrative building and walked up to the mousey bespectacled woman at the reception desk. She had grey curly hair that had once clearly been brown, and wore thick white glasses with a chain around her neck that attached to each earpiece. A name plate on her desk read Tess Leslie.

"Hi ... Tess. I'm here to see Dean Wilder?"

The receptionist stared open-mouthed at Grant for a half-moment before catching herself. She gave him an appraising look up and down before smiling and greeting him.

"Of course, Mr. Grant, we've been expecting you! It's not often we get a new teacher at Titmouse, and never one with your ... " she paused as she glanced down Grant's body, before returning eye-contact " ... ahem, that is to say... uh, qualifications... it's so nice to have some fresh blood, er I mean new meat, well, no, I mean ..." she paused and took a deep breath. "I'm looking forward to seeing more of you, Mr. Grant." She flashed Grant the largest cheshire grin he'd ever seen. "You can go right in. Vanessa's been awaiting your arrival."

Grant flashed his most charming smile back, chalking her nervousness up to not getting many male visitors, and proceeded into the Dean's office.

Vanessa Wilder, Dean of Titmouse College was a tall women, just shy of six feet. Grant was only 5'10" himself. She was half leaning, half sitting on the corner of her desk when Grant entered. Her burgundy dress and blazer complemented her shoulder-length chestnut hair. She gestured to the chair before her desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Grant. Please, have a seat."

"Thank you Ms Wilder, but please call me just Grant." Grant sat in the proffered chair, while Vanessa remained half-seated on the corner.

"It is an unusual name — Grant Grant. The man so nice, they named him twice?" Vanessa asked playfully, raising her left eyebrow and making a partial smirk.

Grant returned her smile with a practiced ease, chuckling ruefully. "I've heard that one before. You can thank my 'free-spirited' parents for that. Still, it has made it easier for people to remember my name, so there is that. Anyway, I can't tell you how excited I am to be here. I have heard some wonderful things about Titmouse. And thank you for sending me that literature. This is like a whole self-contained community here. It's really incredible."

"Thank you, Grant. I've worked very hard to maintain the values and traditions Titmouse College was founded on. But at the same time we have needed to stay modern and current. It's been no easy feat, but I'm quite proud of what we've accomplished. ... You did get a chance to fully read the literature then?" Vanessa eye'd Grant carefully. "And you understand what it means...?"

"Yes, Venessa, and I —"

"You shall address me as Dean Vanessa or Dean Wilder, Grant. Decorum is very important here at Titmouse. You understand."

"Oh. Of course... Dean Vanessa. As I was saying, you're referring to the Dress Code policy, I assume?"

Vanessa nodded.

"I want to reassure you that I have absolutely no problem with nudity, Dean Vanessa. You can thank my parents for that too — I was exposed to quite a lot of that growing up. I'll have zero issues maintaining my professionalism."

"Excellent. That's great to hear, Grant. It's actually an interesting story how our unique dress code came to be. When Titmouse first opened its doors in 1798, there were only a couple dozen students — all female, of course — and a single teacher: Clarice Truman.

"Clarice was quite a piece of work, honestly. She didn't believe in corporal punishment— which was very progressive of her for the late 1700s— but she did believe in nudity as punishment. At first, any student that failed an assignment was forced to strip naked and remained that way until they completed the assignment properly — Which could take days, or sometimes even weeks. Gradually, Clarice progressed to stripping students who answered questions incorrectly — or even too slowly — when called on. Those unlucky students would be forced to stay naked until sunrise the following morning.

"The apex of Clarice's punishments happened during winter exams in 1804. Winter exams back then started at the end of November, then classes were suspended for the month of December, before resuming again after the new year in January. The exams were taken, and every single student failed. Every one of them. Clarice was so furious she made each student strip naked right then and there, one after another. Once they were all nude she told them that make up exams wouldn't be until after the new year. Yes, that's right. She forced them to be naked for the entire month. Even over Christmas.

"When Jan 1st came around, Clarice started writing a new make-up exam. That's when she noticed it. There has been a fatal flaw in her original exam, making a passing grade impossible. She was overcome with remorse. She immediately gathered the students and told them about the mistake, apologizing profusely, and telling them they could of course all redress. She hoped they could forgive her.

"One student yelled out 'strip.' Before long the whole class was chanting 'strip, strip.' Being a firm believer in 'what's good for the goose is good for the gander' Clarice acquiesced and stripped off all her clothes. She vowed to her students that for each one of them she had stripped for one month, she would remain nude for one month. Ultimately she ended up teaching in the buff for two and a half solid years.

"Now, bear in mind that regardless of her own nudity, she did not soften her approach to her students. She continued to strip any students who failed assignments during that period. But much to her surprise she found those punishments were less and less necessary. By the end of her self-imposed textile exile, there was no need to punish any students. They had been academically energized by Clarice's obvious commitment to justice and to them. Clarice was no longer just an authority figure. She had been humanized to the students, and it galvanized them in their studies. Their commitment to learning grew exponentially.

"A couple weeks after Clarice put her clothes back on, one of her students just showed up to class naked of her own volition. She said it was, in that student's words, 'to honor Miss Truman's commitment to doing what's right.'

"That student stayed naked for a few days, then another student took up her mantle. Each student went in turn, and when they had all done their turns, Clarice herself stripped down once more just as the students had done. And so on and so forth, ad nauseam. Eventually it evolved into the written policy we have today.

"The students have looked at having their nude turn as a matter of pride; Upholding the principles we all hold so dear. In those early days during Clarice's time, the student body was small enough that every student would partake in a nude week. Unfortunately by the mid 1800s the student body had grown so large that only a fraction of students would ever be so lucky.

"I myself was denied the honor during my time as a student here. It's one of my biggest regrets. Of course there's nervousness mixed in too, for any student that gets to participate, but we all know what it stands for and we're all girls here." Vanessa grew self-reflective. "Well, of course that's all changed now that you're here..."

Vanessa looked at Grant with obvious sadness.

Grant was starting to panic slightly. His living wet dream of seeing constant female nudity felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

"No, no, no. You can't stop — it's tradition! Tradition is important! You can't let Clarice Truman's lesson be forgotten!" Grant was nearly frantic. He didn't want to be totally transparent but the main reason the took this job was to see some naked female flesh.

He recited a paraphrased portion of the dress code from memory: "'Each week one member of the lesser sex shall waive their uniform.' That is done to honor Clarice Truman's memory, and to uphold the principles this school was founded on. Principles I happen to believe in, too. These principles don't care about mixed-gender settings. You can't throw that all away because of one lone man."

"Lesser sex..." Vanessa mumbled to herself. "It's just a minor nuance... that could work." Then louder, addressing Grant "And you're sure you have absolutely no problem with nudity?"

"None whatsoever. I promise you that."

"You realize this means you will be exposed to students ... naked?Virtually constantly?"

"And I will maintain the utmost of professionalism and respect towards them. You have my word."

"Very well Grant, you've convinced me. We will continue to uphold the letter and the spirit of the Titmouse Dress Code. And not a moment too soon. It's nearly nine o'clock. The undressing ceremony will be starting momentarily. We should head right over to the main auditorium."

Grant followed Vanessa out of the administrative building, noting that Tess had already left before them. Vanessa moved at a brisk pace and Grant had to half jog to keep up. As they walked, he kept glancing around hoping to spot that one naked student again.

They arrived at a large open air amphitheater that was already crowded with people. The crowd parted for Venessa as she walked to the raised covered platform at the back. They would stare at Grant, whispering to each other, when they noticed him following behind her.

Vanessa walked up onto stage and took a place in the center, beside Tess who was already waiting. There were several other women already on stage, whom Grant correctly presumed were the other faculty members. Grant silently took a place at the end of the stage, still scanning the crowd. He hoped he'd be able to see the front-side of that nude student this time.

Vanessa raised her arms for silence from the crowd.

"Good morning ladies! I know you're all anxious to start the ceremony, but first I have some news to share. We have filled the vacancy left by Ms. Williams' unexpected retirement — we do wish her a speedy recovery — and it may be a shock to some of you. In a first for Titmouse, our newest professor is male... Grant, please come forward."

Grant came forward and stood beside Vanessa. His face became flush, as he felt four thousand eyes stare right into him. He couldn't yet tell whether his appearance was a cause for celebration or consternation with the audience. Swallowing hard, he waved to the crowd.

"I'd like everyone to please give a warm round of applause to our new professor!"

The two thousand assembled students and faculty at Titmouse College opened with thunderous applause, before the Dean had even finished her sentence.

"Please treat Professor Grant with the same level of respect you would treat any other faculty member. He has assured me he doesn't want his presence here to change anyone's behavior. Just think of him as one of the girls." Vanessa winked.

"And now, let's proceed with the undressing ceremony! Jessica, would you please come up on stage?"

Grant watched the crowd, and saw one blonde head with bare shoulders making its way through the crowd towards the front of the stage. As she walked up onto the stage, Grant's eyes were as big as saucers and his mouth hung half open. He forgot almost all about discretion when he was confronted with a real naked student less than 10 feet from him.

Grant absorbed every detail. She had wavy bleach-blonde hair that hung down below her tits. Her eyes were steely blue, almost grey. Her breasts were framed by her hair, not obscured by it, and had obvious tan lines, suggesting she did not normally spend her free time naked as a jay-bird. Grant estimated them as a C-cup. They were a B-cup. Her nipples were light pink and almost as large as her tits themselves, but did not stick outwards prominently. She had hips and a little tummy but was not remotely fat. Her pussy was hidden by a thick but trimmed triangle of blonde hair so light as to be nearly platinum.

She moved with confidence, smiling with head held high, until she locked eyes with Grant. His practically lecherous gaze caused her confidence to falter. She slouched inwards, aimed her eyes downcast, and covered both hands over her crotch.

Vanessa noticed Jessica's change in attitude.

"Now, now Jessica. Titmouse scholars do not cower. That is not befitting of Clarice Truman's legacy. Stand up straight before I waive your uniform for another week."

Jessica immediately moved her hands to her sides and straightened up, thrusting her chest out.

Vanessa resumed her address to the crowd.

"Ordinarily, I would call upon another student to be our Truman Representative of the Week and swap their clothes with Jessica, but this week we are afforded a unique opportunity. Our dress code policy states that 'one member of the lesser sex will be chosen to waive their uniform' and as of today there are far less men than women on campus. Therefore this week's candidate is Professor Grant. Grant, remove your clothing and hand them to Jessica. Jessica, you may wear Grant's clothing if you wish. Regardless you may change into your regular uniform at your earliest convenience."

Grant's blood ran cold. His mouth got dry. His head started pounding in his ears.

Vanessa spoke so only Grant could hear her. "Grant, you assured me that nudity wouldn't be a problem for you. Here's your chance to prove it. You have been given a huge honor here, I expect you to act like it. Remove. Your. Clothes."

Cowed by the force of Vanessa's speech, Grant untucked his slate blue shirt and fumbled with the buttons, slowly unlatching them one by one. He slipped off the shirt and shakily handed it to Jessica. She quickly put it on and buttoned it up. It was so large on her that any hint of a feminine figure was lost, covering every part of her Grant wanted to see.

He loosened his brown leather belt, and unzipped his beige khakis, letting them fall to the ground. Belatedly he realized he should have taken off his brown leather shoes first. Bending down with his pants around his ankles he awkwardly tried to remove one shoe, then the other. Then he stepped out of his slacks and reluctantly handed them to Jessica as well.

She hurriedly put them on over her naked behind, belted them as tight as they'd go, and rolled up the pant legs nearly half way. They looked like a cross between a pair of baggy capris and a set of hip-waders on her.