Her Scholastic

Part 2: Her First Visit

Author's note: This is the second part of a series which I hope to update intermittently. It is light on sex and falls more into the more niche category of "naked fiction" than that of steamy erotica. I hope you enjoy it!

The paradox is that unrestrained freedom in education does not create a free people. As we have seen, it creates an unfocused, disorderly people deprived of the capacity for achievement from the start. That's far from freedom. No, for man to have the crucial power of self-authorship, he must first be put into order. In addition to learning culture, arts, and sciences, he must experience the uniformity, simplicity, and humility of a true Scholastic environment. To be a civilized man, he must first be a scholar. Proper, modern Scholasticism must reinforce this fact--which wiser cultures have regarded as obvious--that the student is not yet a full member of our social order, not yet fit to behave like, dress like, or live like the elder learned population.

Four months earlier, Emily Brooke Carper was sitting in the passenger seat of her mom's Subaru reading

The Scholar

, the book by outsider academic philosopher Linda Vaughn which had motivated this short road trip. She'd heard a lot about the controversial pedagogy Vaughn was attempting to implement at Hillthorpe School, formerly Burne College, but only while reading Vaughn's original decades-old book was she beginning to feel she truly understood why this lady so assertively demanded nudity in her experimental liberal arts college.

Even getting this far had been an accomplishment. When Emily first told her mom Debora that she'd applied for the new nude uni in January, Debora looked back at her as if she'd grown a second head. Her daughter didn't seem like the type for this. Debora hadn't been so concerned about the rigor of the courses, which, regardless of the novel pedagogical ideas the school now expressed, were still led by most of the well-regarded faculty of Burne, nor was she concerned about the athletics; the school's gymnastics program was idiosyncratic, but acclaimed. It was the dress code that worried her. Debora didn't consider herself to be especially prudish, but the idea of Emily being vulnerable and exposed in an unfamiliar place didn't sit well with her. Emily had had to exhaustively defend the school's unproven methods to her mom, going off of arguments from a couple websites and a dated book she hadn't finished yet. Debora wasn't convinced, but she couldn't disregard her newly-adult daughter's persistent enthusiasm, so she booked the tour.

Out the window, Emily saw stone buildings approaching. She put down the book. She felt herself getting equal parts nervous and excited. She thought it was childish of her, but she wondered how long it would be until she spotted her first naked student. Students--or Scholastics, as Vaughn called them--were allowed to wear clothes outside, and on a nice, breezy 60°F Friday afternoon in March, she suspected most students would dress up. As for herself, she was glad she could wear pants and a light jacket.

Emily's phone chimed. "Finals went long. I'm gonna be pretty late," it said.

"That's ok! Just lmk when you're here," she responded.

"Here we are," said Emily's mom, with just a hint of a sigh. They parked in the small lot in front of the student union on the south side of campus. A sign out front pointed later arrivals to overflow parking in the main lot. Emily and Debora walked quietly toward the building. A sign on the front door read, "Welcome, guests! Please remain fully dressed."

Emily opened the door for her mom. "Thanks for doing this," she said.

"You're welcome."

Inside, a cheery woman wearing a Hillthorpe School T-shirt sitting at a folding table greeted them. "Howdy! Are you taking the tour?"

"Yes," said Debora.

"Great! Could I get your names?"

"Debora and Emily Carper," said Debora.

The woman jotted their names on two small cards. "These are your visitor cards. Hold on to these. Now you're welcome to find a seat in the auditorium right through there and pay attention to your row number," she said, handing them pamphlets and gesturing to the doors.

They sat at the center of row two. Emily paged through the pamphlet, and found a familiar overview of the school and a map. On the back was a brief bio of President Vaughn who, inspired by her friend Susan Hillthorpe's experiments at Blanke Schande College in the 1970s, had re-imagined Burne College, a medium-sized liberal arts school, as a frontier for Scholastic innovation. Absent from the pamphlet, Emily noticed, were any pictures of naked people.

As the auditorium filled, she glanced behind her at the other prospective Scholastics scattered throughout the auditorium. She noticed more wide smiles than you'd expect to see at this kind of presentation, maybe from excitement, maybe from nervousness. A number of the visitors looked noticeably alternative. She also saw some short shorts and crop tops which seemed out-of-step with the time of year.

A minute after two, Hillthorpe's Outreach Director Dr. Marley, a middle aged man in a dress shirt, approached the mic stand and repeated most of the info that Emily had read in the pamphlet. He discussed the admissions process and details about tuition and scholarships, which seemed to be given out generously. He explained academic differences from usual colleges. For one, in the fall, the academic year would change from two semesters to four, so that students could focus more closely on fewer classes at a time. He assured everyone that despite its quirks, Hillthorpe was an accredited school held to a high academic standard.

"Now I want to touch on what I suspect has been at the top of some of your minds. Yes, the dress code for lectures is wearing nothing at all. This is what you always hear about in the media, but, to us, it's actually not the most important thing. Nudity comes with some connotations in our culture--sexuality, vulnerability, shame--none of which really capture the experience of being a Scholastic here. For us, being nude represents the openness and humility of the true student. The clothes we're wearing show our identity and social position, but Scholastics put all that aside so they can be formed by education. When each of you enters the lecture hall, you'll set your idea of yourself aside and approach the material as a blank slate. The way students here dress embodies the depth of education that doesn't exist anywhere else.

"While nudity is mandatory in academic buildings and in the gym, it's optional elsewhere on campus, including the dining hall starting this upcoming Fall. Most students don't take advantage of this, but it's always a good option. What isn't an option is wearing underwear, lingerie, or other provocative dress around campus. That might be less physically exposed than being nude, but it's not in line with what being nude means for us here. Also please keep in mind that clothing is only optional for enrolled students, so please stay dressed today.

"The classroom must be a safe place, so we are vigilant and serious about any kind of inappropriate behavior. Everyone is encouraged to report anything that might make other students uncomfortable to the Safety team, so we can take swift and decisive action. Today and in the future, please remember that exposure is not an invitation. And

please

, do not photograph nude Scholastics without their explicit permission.

"Well I think you've all heard enough from me and would like to meet some real Scholastics and get outside to see our campus. Thank you all for visiting, and I look forward to meeting many of you again in the fall. Our student ambassadors will take it from here." Dr. Marley walked off, the audience clapped, and just like that, four naked college students took the stage. Debora inhaled sharply.

Before she could even look at the other three, one of the ambassadors filled Emily's field of vision. He was standing steadily with his hands on his hips. He was strong and well-built with tanned skin and dense, well-distributed body hair. She was struck by his pronounced v-line descending to his thick, circumcised penis. From her seat, she could see the dark veins on his hands. Emily shifted in her seat and looked up at the naked woman who had taken the mic from the stand.

"Hi, everyone!" she said energetically, rocking on the balls of her feet with her hands behind her back. She was tall, slender, dark skinned, and entirely shaven. "I'm Maya. In just a second we're going to break you up into four groups by row. Does everyone know their row number?" She planted her feet and took a wider stance. Debora looked at Emily startled, like she was withholding a nervous squeal. Emily heard a few murmurs behind her. "Six," somebody muttered. Emily's eyes were caught by the hot guy once again as he rolled his shoulders back for a second, stretching out his pectorals.

"Great!" said Maya, beaming a professional smile.

"Wearing a smile" means naked,

Emily thought,

but she really is wearing it like clothes.

The ambassador to her stage left was scanning her eyes over the room with a neutral expression, and she looked way more exposed than Maya did. "Everybody in rows 1, 5, 9, 13, and 17 are going to be with me!" She bounced in place for a second. "If you're in row 2, 6, 10, 14, or 18, you will be with Sandra." Sandra quit scanning, smiled, and raised her hand at head-level. She was shorter and a bit curvy. Her blonde hair was in a pony tail. She wore shoes and a smart watch and nothing else. She had large, full breasts and wispy pubic hair. As Maya went on with the next set of rows, Sandra lowered her hand and held her right thigh.

"We're with her," Debora whispered as if that weren't obvious. While Maya was introducing the lanky, hairless guy with the big dick, Sandra leaned over to the hot guy, her boobs swaying a bit, and said something to him under her breath. He laughed, silently but genuinely, the sides of his face scrunching up and his whole diaphragm visibly contracting and expanding. The slightest shift of his penis was commanding Emily's full attention. She was embarrassed to be assessing their bodies like this. Emily believed in theory that nudity could be desexualized, but she had to admit that was hard to do when everyone was this attractive.

"Hello!" shouted the lanky guy, whose name Emily had completely missed.

"And rows 4, 8, 12, 16, and 20 are going to be with Ethan."

"Hey," said Ethan in a deep voice, both commanding and casual.

Jesus, why couldn't I be in his group?

Emily thought, and then forced herself to look away again. This was seriously not the time to be getting horny.

"Now we're all going to head right out the front doors where you came in. Everyone get with your ambassador, and we'll split off to do the tour. Thanks!" Maya put the mic back in the stand. Everyone clapped. Someone even let out a "woo," which Emily thought was funny.

The ambassadors led the way out of the auditorium. Emily stood up to leave. "Are you still feeling okay, Mom?" she asked.

Debora covered her eyes with her hands and let out a quiet yell. It looked like she was laughing. "I'll survive," she said. While they were filing out, she added, "I feel so embarrassed for the girls! But I can't say that the two of them don't wear it well."

Outside in the parking lot, the four nude students stood spaced apart so their groups could assemble. They stood in front of a grassy field in the center of campus, cut with diagonal paved walkways. Sandra was waving as she had before. She had a comfortable stance and made no effort to reduce her exposure. It was evident that being nude didn't phase her. They joined her. Emily tried to sneak a glance at Ethan, but his growing group of visitors obscured her view.

"Do I have everybody?" Sandra projected suddenly. She rose onto her toes to look through the group for any stragglers. Everyone quieted to hear her. "Great! We can start by heading over to the Whit, which is one of my favorite spots on campus. Follow me!" she said and began walking backward away from the student union without looking behind her. She turned right to walk along the field. Her bare legs moved confidently. She must have done this a dozen times. Emily caught herself looking at the lips of Sandra's vulva showing under her thin pubic hair, out of curiosity more than anything. She quickly looked over her shoulder to see a glimpse of Ethan's strong ass as he began leading his group in the opposite direction. She felt a small rush go through her, starting in her guts and rising into her chest.

"So once again, I'm Sandra. I'm a junior studying history, and I'm an R.A., so I know all about life on campus if you have any questions. Right now we're walking along the pitch," she said, extending her right arm toward the field. "This is right in the middle of the south side of campus. It'll help keep you oriented when you're new here." A few clothed students were crossing it. As they reached the corner of the pitch, she stopped and pointed above the group's heads, her right breast moving slightly with the motion of her arm. "That spire on the top of the library is also helpful, especially if you're on the North side of campus. That's at the north end of the pitch."

Sandra led them backwards across the main street that went through campus, only glancing over her shoulder for cars. They arrived at an impressive concrete building with enormous windows reflecting the pitch. The building looked much more modern than any of the others Emily had seen on campus. A large sign read, "Whitney Fine Arts Center." Sandra stepped onto the side of a concrete bench right in front of Emily. "This is our Fine Arts building, but everyone calls it the Whit." If Sandra weren't exposed before, she certainly was now. "If you get involved in any band, choir, theater, or visual arts program, you'll be spending a lot of time in here. Let's go in for just a second." Sandra turned, and for the first time, Emily got a good view of her full, shapely butt, looking up from below as Sandra stepped down from the bench.

Within the doors was a large, modern atrium area with a high ceiling. Across from the entrance were three sets of wide doors. To the left was a Le Pain Frais café filled with students, all dressed. To the right was a wall of cubbies. An older man walked through, and Emily saw his eyes lock onto Sandra's ass for a second. "This is the main hub for campus arts," Sandra continued. "I play basset horn in the Wind Ensemble, for example, and we perform in the big theater through there." She pointed to the big doors. "We also have a practice room at the other side of the building. If you're into the visual arts, there are always exhibits going on upstairs. And there's the café over there, which is always busy."

"What are these cubbies for?" Emily asked.

"Those are mostly for clothes. You'll see those in pretty much every building other than the dorms. The Whit is generally clothing optional, so these aren't used as much as the other ones, but if I were wearing clothes, I could take them off in the entrance area and keep them here. Obviously there aren't locks, so if you're worried about it, you can put your clothes in your backpack or just leave them in the dorm." Looking again, Emily saw a couple cubbies with jeans and sweatshirts. There were fully naked students somewhere in this building right now.

"What do you mean

generally

clothing optional?" asked Debora.

"Anyone performing will probably be expected to undress," Sandra responded, "unless they're wearing a costume for a play or something like that. I was performing nude with the band in there two weeks ago." She smiled.

Emily's phone chimed. "I'll be there in like 10," the message said. Emily added a heart reaction.

They left the building and continued walking along the main street. Sandra stopped at the corner and pointed out the tennis court and the football field, surrounded by bleachers. "The gym and sports center is right there past the tennis court. The gym just got renovated, and it's free for all students if you want to get a workout in." Sandra checked her watch. "We're actually going to go back across this street so you guys can see something, and after that we can look at the chapel."

Across the street, the group walked a ways north, and entered Barnard Hall. "The Classics Department is based in here," said Sandra as they entered the building. The cubbies by the door were totally full of all kinds of clothes. One of them had all black clothes. Another had a pair of huarache sandals and nothing else. There was a pair of large cargo shorts and a

Star Force

T-shirt right on the floor. Sandra began to turn the corner. "I like to show this building because you get to see the school in action. Come look!" Emily followed closely behind and saw what Sandra meant. The broad hallway had a large tinted window into a lecture hall. Directly through it, she had a profile view of the professor, a stout man in a dress shirt, pointing repeatedly to something he'd written on the blackboards. And, to the left, there were about ten tiered rows of completely naked students.

Emily felt other visitors crowding behind her to get a view. She pressed even closer to the window. She scanned over every inch of them. It was instinctual. This simple scene overwhelmed her. It was a wall of the flesh of every kind of young body: the male, the female, the dark skinned, the light skinned, the very thin, the fat. Across the room was a cute naked girl in a foldable wheelchair. All these people who anywhere else would be hidden from her, were now revealed so plainly, without any performance or artifice, their bodies exposed like secrets screamed through a megaphone. Emily felt her fingers tapping on her thighs before she knew she was doing it.

In truth, most of their bodies were partially obscured by those sitting in front of them, but she had a decent view of the front row. In particular, she was only around two yards from the Scholastic in the rightmost seat, a young Hispanic woman with dark, wavy hair resting over her shoulders above her slightly side-set breasts. Her right leg was crossed over her left, and Emily focused in on her hip, on the uninterrupted bare skin continuing up from her thigh all the way to her shoulder.

"Let's clear out of the hall so they have space to get out," said Sandra.

The young woman uncrossed her legs. She closed her notebook. She leaned forward to grab her red backpack, and her breasts hung down above her knees. She put the backpack in her lap.

With the bright lights in there and the dim lights in the hall, this probably works like a one-way mirror,

Emily thought.

I don't think she can see me.

But as the Scholastic inserted her notebook into her bag, like a bolt of terrible lightning, her eyes fixed onto Emily's, her absent expression turning dead serious the very instant she recognized that she was being watched. Just as suddenly, Emily's heart raced at a million miles an hour. She was standing safe on the outside. She was at Hillthorpe wearing her jacket like armor, zipped to the top. But she was the one who was revealed. She wasn't tapping on her thighs; she was gripping into them. She jolted back from the window. For a moment that felt like a minute, she was the one who was exposed.

"Emily, come on!" It was Debora. Emily was the only one still standing by the window. She retreated to the entrance area, across from the cubbies. She felt what might have been her face starting to flush. She crossed her arms. And before she had the time to fully collect herself, the Scholastics she'd seen behind glass marched out in front of her. A crowd of bare butts of every shape assembled in front of the cubbies to retrieve their clothes. She watched a guy's hairy ass as he bent over to get his basketball shorts from the bottom row. A girl slipped a sundress over her head. Most students wore simple clothes they could take on or off in an instant, but a few had a harder time. She saw a dude buttoning a shirt up and an otherwise naked woman struggle to fasten her bra for a moment. One guy with a man bun and a drawstring bag left the building naked and took off on one of those one-wheeled self-balancing electric scooter things.