Naed at College 01

This story is the first of my Literotica version of the "Naked in School" series, started originally by Karen Wagner, who so graciously has given permission for others to use the theme and components in their own version of this series. I thank her so much for such an inspirational creation! Hopefully, readers familiar with this series will find my version to be comparably entertaining. Readers unfamiliar with it, or familiar but disinterested in the series, might find it to be too outrageous. However, I encourage you to enjoy its unrealistic absurdity, as that is what makes it (in my own personal opinion and taste) such a great fantasy. I also want to acknowledge another version of this series previously posted on Literotica: "Naked in School - Dennis and Susan," by Centauri4. There could be additional versions on this site and, if so, I do apologize for failing to be aware of them. The traditional series proceeds through approximately five to seven days. My story is confined to just one day, but it is still quite long and therefore posted in two parts. It does start slow, as the context requires quite a bit of introduction, but once it gets going, it moves quickly. Please be warned that it includes aspects of submission and humiliation, as well as voyeurism and exhibitionism. Otherwise, enjoy!!

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Chrissie

Chrissie Pippins was Class President at Abberville College. Abberville was a small, private college gently resting in the rolling Shenandoah Valley. All of its students were above the age of 18. Chrissie enjoyed attending Abberville very much. She was an active participant in just about every official event. It was like her whole life had become devoted to the lives of the Abberville family, as she liked to call the faculty, staff, and students of this small, private college.

And, now, she found herself, early Monday morning, actually sitting outside of the office of the real President. She had never actually truly met Dr. Rayburn before. She had, of course, seen him many times, and had even said hello and shaken his hand at various college functions, including, of course, when she was sworn in as Class President. That had been such a very special moment; one she will remember for quite some time. Nevertheless, none of those previous occasions had lasted very long, being confined to quick, cursory greetings and salutations. She felt she was truly a very lucky 19-year-old to actually be waiting to have a personal, face-to-face meeting with him!

It was then with tremendous delight that she received a request from the President himself to meet with him in his office early Monday morning. She could feel her heart fluttering in anticipation. There was even a bit of perspiration forming on her brow. She did not usually get this nervous. She was typically quite calm and poised when she was meeting campus dignitaries. However, this was clearly much different. This was at the top of the totem pole; it didn't get any bigger than meeting with the President himself. Her mouth suddenly went dry just thinking about it, and she popped in another Notoid. She always chewed Notoids throughout the day, knowing that it was important to keep her breath fresh as she represented the college when greeting and meeting others.

She had even worn one of her best outfits: an Emilio Pucci pink chiffon blouse, with a stand collar and ruffled wrist bands, along with a flowing pink silk skirt, panty hose, and high heels. She felt that it was an outfit that conveyed chic sophistication, although not excessively so for an undergraduate student. Mind you, she wouldn't normally wear it to one of her classes. Abberville was a conservative college. Students were discouraged from wearing t-shirts and sweat pants, but formal silk blouses and heels would also be unusual for classroom attendance. However, Chrissie was not just going to class today. She was meeting the President of Abberville and she wanted to convey a more mature, professional presentation.

She had also used extra strength deodorant this morning, knowing that she was probably going to be a bit nervous. Her chiffon blouse was rather problematic in that regard. She considered wearing underarm shields, but she worried that they would become distracting. She would always be worrying about them slipping, or their bulk becoming evident beneath the sheer chiffon. However, she had not anticipated becoming this nervous, and now she wondered if perhaps she should have worn the shields. What could this be about? Why did he want to meet me? Am I going to get some sort of an award? She admonished herself for thinking that. Success came through humble modesty, not through the anticipation or expectation of reward.

She heard a phone ring, saw Mrs. Edwards, the President's Office Administrator, pick up the receiver and speak through the line. Mrs. Edwards had a little glass enclosed office at the end of the hall. Chrissie couldn't hear what she was saying. However, when she put the receiver down she came out through her door, smiled at Chrissie, and said, "President Rayburn is ready to receive you now, Miss Pippins."

She instantly stood up, smiling brightly but with clear evidence of nervousness in her expression, and replied, "Yes ma'am. I'm ready too!" She grimaced at such a silly reply.

Mrs. Edwards though smiled reassuringly. She knew how nervous students were when they met President Rayburn. She gestured toward the large oak doors to her left. "You can enter through here, Miss Pippins."

"Thank you, ma'am," Chrissie more carefully replied. She firmly grasped and turned the brass door knob and entered the large, dark, cavernous office.

It was indeed a most impressive office: quite spacious with a high ceiling, large, well-organized and tidy walnut desk, leather swivel chair, paintings of prior presidents along the wall. There was also a walnut conference table to the right, and a more informal meeting area with couch, large soft easy chairs, and coffee table to the left. There was even a working fire place. She had to admit fantasizing about someday being a college president herself and having an office such as this.

Dr. Rayburn got up from his desk and walked around to great her as she entered the office. "Good morning, Miss Pippin. I'm so glad you were able to meet with us so early in the morning."

"Certainly, sir," Chrissie responded, firmly grasping Dr. Rayburn's hand. She knew it was best to offer a firm handshake. She hoped that he didn't notice the bit of perspiration on her brow, which was perhaps hidden well enough by her bangs. Chrissie had long, flowing blonde hair. She hardly had to do anything with it, although she had been careful that morning to have the waves be especially graceful and full.

"I don't know if you are familiar, Miss Pippins, with our Dean of Women's Studies, Dr. Worell." Chrissie had indeed met both of them before. She had in fact worked closely with Dr. Worell on her proposal for gender equity within the athletic program. "Oh yes, certainly, of course," she replied and shook her hand as well.

Dr. Rayburn gently placed his hand on Chrissie's back and directed her to the easy chairs and couch beside the fireplace. "Let us talk over here, if you wouldn't mind. It's certainly more comfortable." He directed her to one of the lush easy chairs. As she got comfortable, as best she could given the circumstance, she found herself sinking deep into the soft cushion. She had to carefully pull down on her skirt as it rose up a bit as her bottom sunk down into the chair.

She hoped that her pulling on the hem of her skirt was not too noticeable. She didn't want Dr. Rayburn to think that she was thinking that he was trying to sneak a peek. And, she certainly didn't want to give the impression that she was trying to be flirtatious or inappropriately revealing. She adjusted her position to sit up straight, on the edge of her seat, her back no longer resting against the back of the chair. It was much less comfortable than sitting back in the chair, but considerably safer and more proper. She crossed her legs and clasped her hands in her lap.

Dr. Rayburn got right to the point. "Chrissie, I asked you here this morning because I have the utmost respect for all that you have done for Abberville."

"I really haven't done much sir, no more than any other student would do, if asked."

Both of the administrators had to smile at that. They knew that was far from the truth. President Rayburn responded, "No, no, Miss Pippins, you're just being modest now. I honestly can't think of an undergraduate who has done more, been more active, than yourself, in all the years I have been President of this college."

Chrissie blushed at this accolade. It was so nice for him to recognize her efforts. She had indeed worked very hard. She knew that, but it was very considerate of him to express his appreciation. She now had to wonder if she was indeed being provided with some important recognition or new responsibility. She had been politicking for sometime to obtain an internship within the administrative office, working hopefully with the President himself. She would have been happy though to get any comparable internship, even with "just" the Dean of Women's Studies. Is this what this was about? "You're too kind sir, really," she again modestly replied.

"No, no, it's all quite true. In fact, it's precisely because of your leadership, your devotion, your conscientiousness, that I have come to you with a responsibility, an assignment, an opportunity, that I am uncomfortable to trust to anyone else."

"I'll take it sir!" she emphatically responded.

President Rayburn chuckled at her unbridled enthusiasm. She is just as Dr. Worell had described her. She agrees before she has even heard the request. You could always count on Chrissie! "Well, I certainly hope you are as enthusiastic about the assignment after you hear what it is."

"I'm sure I will be, sir," Chrissie replied. She sat up even straighter in her chair, her young full breasts thrust forward with confidence and pride. There was simply no way that she would not be enthusiastic about completing a personal request of the college President.

"Well, that is good to hear because it represents a new and bold venture of Abberville College, one for which we hope will pave a path to be followed by other colleges across the country."

'Wow,' she thought. This was clearly going to be better than just any little internship. She couldn't wait to hear what it was.

"Are you familiar, dear, with 'The Program'"?

"'The Program'?" She had indeed heard something about The Program. Actually, quite a bit. Nobody could have missed it. There were posters regarding The Program on all of the official campus kiosks, the bulletin boards within the dorm, and notices had appeared within most every edition of the student newspaper (The Abberville Sentinel). It would have been impossible not to be aware of it if you were paying half of your attention at all to anything going on around you. And, given its topic, it was, of course, the buzz of conversation across campus.

Chrissie, and many other students, considered it to be an elaborate practical joke. There was no way, she assumed, that The Program could actually have been serious.

Dr. Rayburn could see that Chrissie was lost in thought. He began to wonder if perhaps they had chosen the right girl. "What precisely is your familiarity with The Program, Chrissie?"

Chrissie contemplated claiming complete ignorance. She had read and heard quite a bit about the purported Program, but all of it was really so odd, if not inappropriate, and certainly not something that she was comfortable speaking about with President Rayburn. But, she did not get to where she was by being a milk-toast when it came to awkward moments. She briefly swallowed, looked him directly in the eye, and spoke in her most firm and confident voice. "Well, sir, um." She chastised herself for including "um." That did not bespeak of confidence. "I have heard something about a program for helping students develop greater comfort with their bodies and with, um." 'Darn it!' "Their sexuality."

"Precisely, Miss Pippins. You are indeed a bright young lady."

She smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, sir. But, I must admit, I wasn't entirely certain that it was in fact, well, actually." 'Darn!' she thought. 'There I go again, stumbling over my words.' "Sir, I thought perhaps that it was some sort of an elaborate practical joke?"

Both administrators chuckled over that. Chrissie searched their expressions, trying to understand if their chuckling was because it was indeed a joke, and perhaps she was now part of the prank? If so, it really wasn't very funny. She had gone through a lot of stress and preparation for this morning meeting. It was a joke?

President Rayburn could see the disappointment, concern, in her face. "No, no, my dear," explained President Rayburn. "It is certainly no joke. Don't be concerned about that. I suppose we can understand that perception, but it is indeed quite serious. In fact, we intend to be among the first colleges to implement The Program within our undergraduate curriculum."

Chrissie's eyes notably widened in surprise. The Program was serious?! Her fluttering heart accelerated to a pounding confusion.

"Frankly, we consider ourselves, the Abberville community, to be among the best suited for a trial run, given our past success with the pedagogical experiments of Mr. Peters" (see Chapter 1 of The Lessons). "As you know, he has gone on to implement his innovations at Templeton. Certainly, their gain and our loss. Abberville was at one time leading the field in the cutting edge techniques of modern pedagogy. Abberville made the front pages of The Chronicles of Higher Education, but with his move Templeton has now taken our rightful place. I was hired by the Board of Trustees in large part to turn this around."

This was all indeed true. There were some that opposed the selection of Dr. Rayburn, but his affiliation with the academic theories of Mr. Peters went a long way toward his eventual success in obtaining the position.

"We want to return to #1, Chrissie, and we want you to take us there."

Well, thought Chrissie, she now knew why she was there. Okay. It wasn't for an award, it wasn't an internship offer. It was to be the student representative, perhaps the student leader; yes, of course, she would obviously be the student leader of the implementation of The Program. She was, after all, Class President. She would certainly not have volunteered to lead The Program, if she had thought it was serious. Public nudity? Who in their right mind would want to lead that? But, this was indeed how you moved up in the world. Not all of the assignments you are asked to complete will be easy. On the contrary, the future leaders of the world are the ones willing to take on the tough assignments and, now that she had thought about it, she was feeling a bit proud that President Rayburn and Dean Worell had looked to her for this responsibility. She now understood why Dean Worell was here, as public nudity for a female would be quite a sensitive issue, to say the least. She said once again, with a bright smile of sincere enthusiasm, "I will do it, sir!"

"Outstanding, Miss Pippins!" President Rayburn and the Dean were indeed impressed. They expected quite a bit more ambivalence from the first student, but, this was Chrissie Pippins, and if there was a student who evidenced enthusiasm and dedication to the principles and practices of Abberville, who would walk the extra mile, it was Chrissie. "Yes, I am so pleased. I believe that you will set a standard, a model, for all of the other students that will be hard to beat. Frankly, I am even somewhat envious of you, as I believe that your name will now appear in the history of Abberville as the first to pave the way for all those who will follow."

Chrissie was now beaming with pride. This was turning out great. It wasn't what she had originally expected but talk about going down in the history of Abberville was pretty heady stuff, to say the least. "Well, I'm just happy to serve Abberville in any way I can, sir."

Dr. Worell chimed in, "We are all so very impressed and pleased, Chrissie."

"How shall I begin, sir?" Chrissie knew that it would be an uphill road to convince the student body to accept The Program and even much harder, of course, to solicit the first volunteers. Boy, she certainly did not envy them. She had her work cut out to find the right persons to volunteer to do such a thing. But, it took a strong person to do a hard task, and she was now gearing herself up to take charge.

Dr. Rayburn replied, "Well, of course, you should begin by taking off your clothes."

"What?" She couldn't have heard him correctly. "My clothes?" "Oh yes," President Rayburn matter-of-factly replied. "The Program begins today. I'm sure you noticed that in the flyer. You are such an observant girl. And, we thought it best to have the participants first remove their clothes in the comfort and safety of the Administrative Building so that we can carefully monitor the exercise from the very moment of its inception."

Thoughts were racing through Chrissie's mind. She had, of course, thought that she had volunteered to head up some sort of preparatory or planning committee. She had not realized that she was volunteering to actually be the first participant! What to do? What to do? Of course, she considered simply backing out. They must realize how easy it would be to misunderstand their meaning, their intention. But, to renege now, after she had twice agreed, each time so firmly, so emphatically? What would they think of her then? And, even if they accepted her explanation, what would they think of her afterward? This could ruin, destroy, all of her prior efforts to impress upon them her devotion, her enthusiasm, her skills and talents as an undergraduate, as a future leader. She would be the one who turned them down when they had asked, when The President had asked, for her leadership, her resolve. She might go down in Abberville history, but as the one who dropped the baton when it was being passed to her.

But, take off her clothes? She finally spoke her thoughts out loud: "Right now, in front of you?"

President Rayburn smiled in a reassuring, fatherly manner. "I know it will be a bit disconcerting, at least the first time. And, that is another reason we want to have the participants begin here, in the comfort and safety of my office. You can rest assured that we will respond in a most respectful and dignified manner. When the day is done, you can return here to pick up your clothes to return to your dorm."

Chrissie pulled herself up out of the deep chair. She stood in front of them. She looked to the face of Dean Worell, not entirely sure though for what reason. Perhaps just for some sympathetic support. She had committed herself to this. It was time to begin.

She had been so proud of this outfit this morning. She had put so much thought into it. And, now, she was simply going to take it off. She laughed to herself at being concerned about having wasted all that time when she got dressed. It was ironic, but that wasn't the worst thing to happen this morning.

She looked down at her chiffon blouse and slowly began to undo the buttons. As she undid each one, she feverishly, desperately, tried to recall the precise details of The Program. What had she in fact agreed to? She had never really fully studied the rules of The Program, having largely assumed that it was some sort of adolescent joke. Well, it was clearly no joke now.

Her bouse unbuttoned, she reached for the clasp of her skirt. It would not take much effort to remove her skirt, at least much physical effort. It took a lot of moral courage though. She had to draw on a lot of her prior success at overcoming tough hurdles to let herself remove her skirt.