In a small house in the middle of this former factory town, there was not a sound on this dark December morning except for the soft buzz of the fluorescent light in the upstairs bathroom. Behind the closed door, there was a naked 18-year-old college freshman, home for Christmas break, looking at herself in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door.

She was not naked by choice. She simply did not own any clothes, and she was forbidden to wear any. For the last four months she had been forced to go naked in public, around campus, in town, in class, around her dorm . . .

Tami Smithers looked at her reflection up and down with resignation. She sighed as she realized, once again, that her body was in perfect physical condition . . . thin yet toned, with lightly muscled shoulders, firm 34C breasts, a flat tummy, long legs . . . even her feet were pretty, in spite of the punishment they had gone through, walking on rough concrete, snow, ice, rocks . . .

Why does my body have to be so perfect? she said to herself. In her past life as a clothed person she would have been very proud of it. But having a perfect body meant only that people would look more closely at her nakedness. Part of her wished she was fat, or ugly. With a cynical smile she knew that if that were true Dean Jorgon and his lawyer, Henry Ross, would not mind at all if she covered up.

As it was her life had become exquisite torture. Her first week in college, feeling free and happy away from home the first time, going on a dare with some dorm friends, she had gone streaking from one building to the other at Campbell - Frank College. Caught by campus police, realizing that she could be expelled from that conservative though prestigious college, she had desperately offered the excuse that nudism was her religion. Informed by Ross that in fact nudism had been recognized as a religion by the courts in her home state, the Dean told her he could not expel her but would consider any wearing of clothes, or any sign of modesty, as proof that her religion claim was false. Any hint that she was not a true nudist, and her bluff -- or was it her "buff"? -- would be called, and she would be "stripped" of her full scholarship and expelled. Her father, greatly upset that his daughter could jeopardize her hard-earned scholarship by a childish prank, had insisted that she face the consequences of her decision and follow her newfound religion. To be expelled from college and have to go back home, that would be such a crushing financial and personal blow to her and her family that it was just unthinkable.

It was not all hell. She thought of her roommates, her friends . . . With a deep sigh she smiled and thought of her new boyfriend Rod, that adorable and endlessly horny hunk . . .

As she sighed she saw her tummy recede into a hard concavity. Damn, she was in fine shape. Of course it was easy to see why, being on the gymnastics team, the basis of her scholarship. . .

Since Thanksgiving she had been to the almost daily practices. From 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. in Jedrah Hall, where the school teams worked out. Coach Snyder, a wiry, lesbian-looking woman of about 40, a former Olympic team member, was a hard taskmistress. She had her ten charges working constantly for those two hours. The small gym they practiced in always smelled like sweat and rosin. Bouncing off the parallel bars, twirling around on the horse, hanging from the rings, prancing and flipping through the floor routines, the two hours would go by quickly. With everyone else in their leotards Tami felt, at first, acutely shamed at being the only one completely nude. This was especially true when Jen, her roommate and teammate, would fix one of her long lust-filled stares on her while Tami was waiting on line for the next exercise, or when Tami felt the equipment bouncing off parts of her body that were usually covered. She especially found it hard to concentrate when the parallel bars wedged into her opened pussy, and tried not to look back at the wet streaks she left that stood out in stark contrast to the white, dry rosin.

After a while, though, Tami got used to being the only one naked, at least in this small private group. They were all very focused girls -- Coach Snyder wouldn't put up with anything less -- and there was no time to think of anything except the next jump or flip. And seeing the other girls sweating ickily through their leotards, feeling the freedom of unrestricted movement, Tami realized that in a way it was actually an advantage to be naked. It was good, too, that this was an enclosed gym with no windows or doors for peeping Toms to look through.

The meets were something else, though. Tami had been to two of them so far. The first one, a home meet in the big gym in Jedrah, was almost like a meeting of the Naked Tami Fan Club. Though it was sparsely attended like all the meets, Rod and Terri and some other friends of hers, to her extreme mortification, took up seats in the very front of the bleachers, not ten feet from the mat, and clapped and cheered every time Tami came on to do a routine. Tami tried to keep her mind on her performance but could not help but notice that the cheers were loudest when she did upside down splits on the horse or the parallel bars, fully exposing her pussy and anal area to everyone in the gym. The light was bright on her upturned privates and she knew that the whole crowd could see every pubic hair and every flex and unflex of her little brown anal sphincter. Worse, she felt drafts inside her and she knew that every time she spread her legs her pussy lips opened, allowing everyone to see her little pink cave.

She was also aware of the piercing appraisal from the eyes of the Dean, sitting up in the back of the bleachers, who was watching for any sign of modesty. If she made any attempt to cover herself, she knew that would be the end. The Dean told her that he did not believe her religious claim and would monitor her closely with the help of others, pointing out that a true religious nudist would have no reason to complain about the monitoring. Though Tami did not know this, the Dean also knew the college trustees were horrified at having a naked girl walking around campus and, not being able to expel her, had instructed Henry Ross to devise ways to make nudity so humiliating and shaming for this girl that she would be forced to break down and admit that it was all a hoax.

The eighteen-year-old girl did not know that they were trying to break her will. But it did occur to her that fate and that leering creep Henry Ross had conspired so that she found herself in situations where she was exposing herself as intimately as possible to as many people as possible. This in spite of the fact that just walking around naked was bad enough.

At that first meet she was also aware of the shocked looks from the coach and the girls on the other team. Stared at from every direction, Tami felt her bare tummy quiver from the overwhelming shame. It was even more shame when the meet ended up as a rout for Campbell - Frank. Though it went unspoken, everyone knew the win was due to her nakedness. The visiting girls had been so distracted that they kept falling down and missing flips.

The second meet was even worse. At least during the first meet she enjoyed the good will of the team and Coach Snyder and her friends were there. But the away meet at Rockley Institute, a notorious party school, took place under a bad star. Shivering in the drafty old-fashioned bus as they pulled into that tiny campus after the two-hour ride, her bare butt cold against the shiny leather seat in spite of Jen's hugging, she knew that this would not be a good night. She had been allowed to take a long hot shower to warm herself up for the meet and on the way to the locker room had had to pass several guys who seemed to be stationed there waiting for her. A couple of them even said, "Mmmmmm!" as they made no attempt to hide their intense examination of her body.

The meet itself was an ugly spectable because of the rowdy guys who packed the small bleachers. They hooted and whistled every time Tami came on, giving the meet the air of a strip show. Tami and the other girls tried their best to concentrate on what they were doing but they all felt cheapened performing for these idiots. Coach Snyder and the Rockley coach got together at one point to talk about what could be done and finally a couple of campus police showed up. This quieted the hoots and whistles somewhat but not much. Everyone knew that the police couldn't very well arrest them for cheering loudly at athletic events. After all, that was what you were supposed to do.

Campbell - Frank won this meet too, but it was not a happy win. On the way back to the bus, Coach Snyder blocked Tami off from a girl with a tape recorder who seemed to want to ask her questions -- possibly a reporter for the college newspaper? -- and told Tami, "Don't worry about rowdy crowds like that, you did good and I'm glad you're on the team," but it sounded half-hearted.

Tami closed her eyes, shutting out the memory, then opened them to face the mirror once again. She started thinking again about her pubic hair. What do I do about it? Before the Black Formal, two weeks ago, Jen had trimmed it to an inverted "V", like a diamond. It seemed by now that Tami's pussy had become the center of Jen's life. She was obsessed with it, always looking at it when she was not pinning Tami down and licking it, which was almost every day. Jen was especially proud of her trimming handiwork, stroking the shaved area lovingly whenever she zeroed in once again on Tami's clit.

But to Tami the shaved pussy was yet another source of shame. It emphasized her nakedness, and if people passing by on campus tended to look at her pussy before, they seemed to look even more closely now. Tami had enjoyed being made up by her friends for the Black Formal, but tactfully undid the makeup job afterwards. She didn't want anything on her body that might draw any more attention. After four days or so the detailed nail polish that Mayree had put on her fingernails and toenails had gotten chipped and she gratefully removed it. She had thankfully but with secret relief returned the toe rings to Mayree. The shaved pubic bush had to be dealt with too. She wanted it to grow out. For one thing, it would make her feel just a little bit more covered up.

But Jen was fond of it and would be disappointed. On the other hand there was the shaming matter of keeping it trimmed. This had to be done every three days or so, in front of a sink and a mirror, which of course meant doing it in the wing bathroom. Tami remembered the last time. It was eight thirty in the morning, and she remembered thinking that this would be a typical scene in a girls' dorm if it wasn't for her: four friends at the sinks, getting ready for the day. But three of them were in bathrobes and fluffy slippers, brushing teeth, combing hair, putting on eyeliner, while the second girl from the left was totally naked, legs parted, shaving her pussy, standing back a little so that she could see her pussy in the mirror. Tami was glad no guys came in; the nearest guys were in the other wing and they weren't supposed to be in this bathroom. As Jen came in, though, she bent down to plant a wet kiss on one of Tami's bare butt cheeks before going to the showers. Tami felt like a total sex object. She didn't want to have to go through that scene again.

Damn this modesty!! Tami looked herself in the eye. You'd think that after four months I'd have gotten used to being naked by now. What is with me?? Even after all this time, I cringe when I step outside. I HATE being naked, I hate it, I hate it !! She indulged in a posture which was not allowed her in public, crossing one arm over her breasts, covering her pussy with the other hand . . .

She looked over and realized there was a towel hanging next to her. Not one of those little dishrag-size things she was allowed in her dorm, which allowed her to dry herself off but which weren't big enough to wrap around. This one was full-sized. Gratefully, with a quick glance to the crack of the closed door, Tami enclosed herself in it, luxuriating in the feeling of being covered, rubbing the lush terry cloth against her bare skin. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be covered. She hugged the towel tightly around herself and looked down pensively.

She looked at her bare toes and flexed them. 150 days now. She had been counting. It was 150 days to the end of spring semester. I will get a summer job in another town where no one knows me and I will wear clothes. I swear it. 150 days . . .

But she still had the spring semester to live through. From some of the early indications it did not look promising. For example, responding to a note in her mailbox, the Monday before finals week she had gone to a Professor Brignon in Ursula Hall, the art building. With vague dread she remembered Ross telling her about modeling for art classes, on that awful morning when he visited the dining hall and spoke to her while Jen was tonguing her pussy mercilessly under the table. To get him the hell out of there before she came she agreed to anything he proposed and even signed something. Now, stepping carefully up the icy steps into Ursula Hall with almost-numb feet, she remembered thinking, This could only be bad.

Actually whatever the future held, that particular adventure went pretty comfortably. After walking around for five minutes trying to find the Professor's office she realized that the people she passed in the hall weren't staring at her. They looked occasionally but were pretty low-keyed about it. She figured it was because these were art students who were used to seeing nude models, or looking at paintings of nudes.

Dr. Brignon herself seemed O.K. too. Tall, thin, about fifty-five, she looked like she might have been a model herself long ago. She had a pretty face in spite of her wrinkles and gray hair and moved gracefully, a little bit like Jen. She wore a beret (of course) and spoke with a French accent. "Miss Smithers, I am so glad we will have a model for our eight o'clock classes," she said after giving Tami some tea and sitting her down. "As we open the classes to the community we want to expose them to the education most best that this college has to offer. One cannot do that without the models. Let me look at you. Stand up and turn around."

For once Tami felt no shame at displaying herself thus. As she sat back down and took another sip of tea, Dr. Brignon said with a pleasant smile, "I am also glad that you do not have the inhibitions of other models. Having you model will open up wide possibilities which will spread to all our students." Tami attributed the Professor's odd choice of words to some kind of unfamiliarity with English. Actually the Professor was cracking herself up with her puns and trying her utmost not to let a sly giggle break out. But Tami did not see this and felt rather reassured that this woman seemed to have a good heart.

The second visit that Monday was something else, though. Responding to another note in her mailbox, she went to see a Dr. Harridance at the Chalfont Institute. She had heard of the Chalfont Institute, a kind of research medical school on the far edge of campus. Checking a campus map before she darted out of the dorm -- in winter she had to plan her outdoor trips carefully with an eye to minimizing her time outside -- she saw that the Institute was w - a - y out across the soccer field, isolated from the rest of campus. After warming up in the last building before the soccer field, San Beueno Hall, she dashed across, a slippery task because the field was covered with patches of frozen snow. Her backpack flopping against her bare back, her ankle pouch securely tied but hitting constantly against her foot, she kept her eye on the front entrance of the Institute, an old, ornately-ornamented structure, then burst through the front door and slowed to a stop in the lobby, braking with her bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor.


The Unintentional Nudist VII: The Girl in the Mirror, Part 2

Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror that dark December morning, Tami remembered the impression she must have made when, as a freshman math major who also happened to be naked, she bolted into the alien environment of the lobby of the Chalfont Institute. It was dark in that old, dusty building and, as she caught her breath after running across that frozen field, she realized that the place smelled funny. Then as she blinked her eyes to get used to the darkness she had noticed to her shock and shame that she was being stared at by a circle of geeks.

They seemed almost like mutants at first, inbred products of genetic engineering. Then she had realized that they were simply dorky guys with glasses, black shoes and socks, and white shirts and lab coats. They seemed awfully young for med students. Some of them looked like they hadn't even hit puberty yet. There were about ten of them in the lobby and they had stopped and stared in astonishment at this beautiful naked girl who had come into their midst, indeed as if she were an alien being. Tami remembered thinking that she might have been the first actual naked girl these guys had ever seen.

She also remembered her acute shame at being stared at by this circle of male scrutiny. She had a quick and strong urge to cover herself with her hands and turn to run back to the regular campus. But she gulped, took a deep breath, held her hands down at her sides, and drew on that mysterious source of strength she was able to call on at times like this. Gathering her thoughts for a second, she had then said in a somewhat quivering voice, "I'm supposed to see Professor Harridance. Where is his office?" After a moment one of the geeky guys was able to squeak out a room number and point, and Tami was on her way, striding confidently through the dark hallways.

The stride soon slowed into a cautious slow walk. The darkness and oldness of the place made it look like something out of a horror movie about a secret laboratory, a mad scientist, and weird experiments. She felt like she was in a past era, an era of lobotomies, electroshock . . . it was creepy. She read once about how in the early 1900's sexually active teenage girls would be given hysterectomies to "cure" their desires. Well she sure was tempting fate now, walking totally naked down these halls one day after a marathon fuck with Rod. At least that's how she felt, in these catacombs of a bygone era. As they passed her the men and boys in their lab coats -- they were all male -- stared at her as if she were the subject of their next experiment. She was horrified to actually see the words "Electroshock Room", painted on an old door in faded letters, though they were partly covered by a newer metal plaque stating "Intake". Her bare feet seemed to gather dust on the elaborately decorated marble floor. The body heat generated by her run through the field had spent itself and she realized that this old place was cold, like a tomb.

All these things combined to give Tami a chill like she never felt before. Her skin tightened up into goosebumps all over. Her nipples stiffened into little pencil erasers. She could feel the hair on her scalp and the tiny hairs on her back stand on end. She even felt like her pussy was puckering and drying up. Here she was, cold, naked, and alone, walking further and further into her doom.

The turn of a corner brought a belly laugh and the smell of coffee and a comment about the Boston Celtics and some other pro basketball stuff. She shook her head and chuckled to herself as she realized she was in fact at Campbell - Frank College in the year 2000. God, my imagination really runs away from me sometimes.

As it turned out the happy conversation was coming from Room 169, Dr. Harridance's office. Light shone out the open door into the dark hallway. There were four guys, lab coats open to show flannel shirts, sipping coffee and joking around a coffee machine in what looked like a small anteroom. She knew Dr. Harridance from his name tag. A dark-skinned, mustached man with salt and pepper hair, apparently Indian or something like that, with a friendly expression. She was glad to see some light and happiness around here and smiled.

"Well, if it isn't the famous Tami Smithers," another guy said. Dr. Patrick Pendleton, from his tag, tall and blond. Tami realized that the four of them were all doctors. She was embarrassed to realize once again that she herself did not need any name tag. Her nakedness announced her to the world as Tami Smithers.

"Welcome to the catacombs of medicine," Dr. Harridance said. He looked the naked girl up and down. "So this our physiology model." He smiled at the others and then said, "Quite a chilly walk out here, I bet."

Standing with slightly open legs in front of these male doctors, fiddling with the strap of her backpack, Tami at first didn't know how to react. After a second she grinned and said, "Yeah. . . !" which made everyone laugh. These seemed like good guys.

Dr. Harridance looked to one of the other doctors, a Dr. Abu Jamal from his name tag, a short, nervous looking man who also had dark skin and a mustache. They exchanged some quiet words in a weird foreign language which Tami could hardly even guess at. Pakistani? Swahili? Dr. Abu Jamal looked briefly at Tami's face, then glanced down at her breasts, her pussy, her bare feet. Tami felt a little less at ease in front of this guy. Dr. Harridance said, "It's your show, Dab."

In a minute Tami found herself being escorted down the hallway with Dr. Abu Jamal in front and Dr. Harridance behind. Though they were friendly she couldn't help but feel like a nude prisoner being taken to jail. She was sure that Harridance was fixing his gaze on the muscles of her bare buns as they moved. Well, what guy wouldn't look? she told herself.

The hall was chilly and after a while Tami had to hug herself. Her nipples felt especially cold as they stood out, firm and stiff. As the two men and the naked girl continued down the long hallway Tami cupped and rubbed her breasts in her hands to warm them. They went through a door and up an even chillier staircase. On the next floor they entered what looked like a big empty laboratory which was cold just by the way it looked. Everything was metal and white porcelain and spotlessly clean and brightly lit. Tami knew somehow that something unpleasant lay ahead and tried to steel herself for whatever it might be.

The two doctors, comfortable in their abundant clothing, seemed oblivious to what effect the cold air would have on a naked girl. Perhaps they thought that Tami, having walked around naked in the winter, was used to it. To an extent they were right. Any other girl, stripped and forced to walk around in this place, would be shivering by now. But for the perpetully naked Tami there was discomfort but no shivering. She stood upright in front of one of the tables as the doctors positioned a couple of high lab chairs.

They sat down and looked at her. "Please sit on the table," Dr. Abu Jamal said in his tight, high voice, motioning to the metal table behind Tami. Tami knew the cold metal table would feel like ice to her bare butt and braced herself. She sat facing them, a little slouched, her bare feet crossed, her hands clutching the edge of the table.

"We're very glad you could help us in our teaching and research, Miss Smithers," Dr. Abu Jamal said in his stiff, polite way. "When we got the agreement you signed we were very excited, because it has been impossible to get a model who had the necessary lack of inhibition."

"Yes, let me add to that," said Dr. Harridance in his more relaxed voice. "We have had only one previous application from a female but it turned out she was a porn actress who wanted to sell her story for a film." He looked at his colleague and they both rolled their eyes at the memory. "That would have been a disaster for the Institute. But you, as many people have told me, are 'for real'. According to the Dean and Mr. Ross, and as is obvious from the way you, uh, live your life, you really do believe in total nudity at all times and really do believe that modesty is against your religion."

Tami got that familiar sinking feeling. Once again well-meaning people were praising her for something which was a sham. Beyond the shame of her nudity was the shame she felt for lying about it to well-intentioned people like these two men. And once again she did not know how to set things right. She clasped and unclasped her toes, trying to think of something. For now she decided to just keep listening.

"Of course you'll be paid for your help here at the rate of thirty dollars an hour which was in the agreement," Dr. Abu Jamal piped in. "You will also be paid for today. I'll give you the time sheet after we finish."

"Think of today as a kind of interview." Dr. Harridance casually crossed his legs. "We just want to look at certain things." He then cleared his throat and looked down, running his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair and chuckled. "Have you spoken to the Dean, Miss Smithers?"

"Uh, yes."

"He is quite a piece of work. It seemed to me that he doesn't believe that your professed religion is genuine. I think he thinks you're faking it. He told me to watch for any sign whatsoever that you are trying to cover up or hide yourself. Based on what he told me about what you volunteered for at Dr. Congi's sexual awareness workshop, and on the simple fact that you've been going around naked in the snow, I think it's ridiculous to think that you're anything but genuine. In fact I admire your courage and your conviction. You are a very brave young woman."

This compliment elicited a very complicated, bittersweet smile from Tami.

"I mean, of course, I'll monitor you, if that's what the Dean wants, but what I want to say, Miss Smithers, is that we trust and respect you here. That is the least we can do, considering the benefit you are providing to us."

Tami's throat was so dry that she could not speak. This guy was as bad as Vanessa Congi. Well-meaning and totally misinformed. She wanted to ask, What exactly are you going to do to me? But that sounded all wrong. She tried to think of another way to put it. She wished she had that agreement Ross had made her sign. What exactly had she agreed to? She vaguely remembered Ross putting it back into his pocket. Or did he? She was panicking on the brink of orgasm at the time and not observing things too clearly. Wasn't she going to get a copy? And what if she went to Ross and asked for one? Would that be a sign of hesitancy that would raise a red flag with the Dean? The eighteen-year-old girl, smart for her age but unavoidably naive, didn't know what to do about these questions.

Dr. Harridance looked to his colleague. Dr. Abu Jamal said, "Before we begin, let me ask, Miss Smithers, are you naked all the time?"

"Yes."

"Even when you sleep?"

"I don't use any blankets or even a pillow." Tami felt like a political prisoner giving a dispassionate rendition of her torture.

"What about your clothes? Where do you keep them?"

"I don't own any clothes."

"Don't your feet hurt, walking without shoes outside?"

Tami rotated one foot and looked down at the hard, upturned sole. "My feet are used to it."

Dr. Abu Jamal was clearly fascinated but also trying to restrain his curiosity. "How do you survive outside in the winter?"

Tami had a faraway look in her eyes. "I plan my trips carefully. I go fast and am only outside for a few minutes at a time."

Dr. Abu Jamal looked down pensively for a moment. Dr. Harridance shifted in his chair. Then the stiff, formal voice took over again. "If you don't mind . . ."

As Tami looked on in alarm, Dr. Abu Jamal stood up and put his hands on one of Tami's breasts. With a clinical air he felt it and moved it around in his hands and then spoke something in that foreign language to Dr. Harridance, who got up and started feeling the other breast. Tami sat up stiffly and stared straight ahead over their heads, mortified. She breathed in and out with a ragged breath.

Tami twitched slightly as she felt Dr. Abu Jamal pinching her right nipple, rolling it around and tugging at it with his cold, rough fingers. As the two doctors chattered at each other with Tami not understanding a word, they tugged and pulled at both nipples until they stood out, flushed and erect and warm from the friction. Tami could not resist the urge to look down. Her nipples were sticking way out and each was pointing exactly at each man. She closed her eyes. God, this can't be happening. In the back of her mind she knew that only worse was to come.

The two doctors stood back for a moment as Dr. Abu Jamal said, "Now please lie down on your back and spread your legs."

The shamed, naked teenage girl was paralyzed with fear, but only for a second. She tried to divorce herself from what was happening. Knowing what was required of her, she rolled back onto the cold metal table, sucking in air as she felt its chill against the length of her bare back. Keeping her eyes glued to the ceiling, she bent her legs and spread them, pulling her knees up with her hands.

She thought of being spread-legged in the dorm lounge during that awful sexual health seminar while Professor Congi described her most secret places to half the dorm. In a way this was worse. During the seminar her feet had been up in stirrups. But holding her legs open all by herself like this was much more shaming. It made it seem voluntary -- like she was a naked slut who liked going around pulling her legs open to show herself to anyone.

Tami could feel the cool air against her pinkish lower lips. Then her worst fear was realized as she felt one of the men (it was Dr. Abu Jamal) take hold of and spread her outer lips with one hand. She squinted. This was so loathsome! Dr. Abu Jamal tilted his head appraisingly and exchanged quick unintelligible remarks with his colleague. The jabbering continued as he delicately but firmly pulled at one of her little, wet, pink inner lips and pointed, finally pulling the other lip apart, giving both men a clear view into the darkness of her internal cavity. The men's heads leaned closer and Tami could feel their hot breath coursing into her most secret inner cavity. She grimaced again. Feeling her inner lips being pulled up and out was very uncomfortable. She was glad she couldn't understand their language. She didn't want to hear herself discussed.

Tami knew these were educated doctors but, listening to these dark-skinned men chatting in a foreign language, she imagined that she was in some African or Arabian country . . . she was about to be sold as a sex slave and these men were auctioneers appraising her sexual parts to see how much money she would bring . . .

Her whole body lurched and she again sucked in her breath as one of the men wedged a rough index finger right into her inner opening. It was only a tentative touch, but in so sensitive a spot! Then, to Tami's horror, Dr. Harridance poked at her clit. Her eyes, fastened on the fluorescent lights above, widened as she felt him drawing her little pink clit out of its fold, rubbing it, making it erect. After it was erect he kept rubbing it and rubbing it. The naked girl felt her face flush. She knew that it was obvious that she was getting sexually excited. Her breathing deepened and quickened as her tummy went from flat to concave and back again, over and over. If the doctors had been looking at her face instead of closely at her clit they would have seen a twisted grimace as the girl tried to stifle her arousal. She wanted above all not to have an orgasm in front of these men on this cold table in this cold laboratory in this old, creepy Institute.

Tami squeezed her eyes shut as she felt about to cry. She began to pray. Please God, make this torture end. I beg of you. This is horrible. Please . . .

She held her breath and realized that the rubbing of her clit had stopped. She looked down and saw the two doctors back in their chairs. Dr. Harridance said casually, "You can sit up now, Miss Smithers."

After she had sat up and exhaled some of the arousal away, Dr. Abu Jamal said, "We noticed that you are a very sexually responsive woman. Tell me, are you sexually active?"

Tami supposed that meant did she have sex with others. "Yes."

"When was the last time you had intercourse?"

That would be that wonderful night and morning of sex with Rod after the Black Formal. Tami decided to tell the truth. "Yesterday." At least it ended yesterday morning. She thought of the night before as part of the same wonderful fuck.

"And . . . " Dr. Abu Jamal was particularly nervous now. "How many times did you reach orgasm then?"

Tami again decided to tell the truth, even though part of her was warning that this wasn't a good idea. "I'm not sure . . . maybe eight or . . . ten . . . times."

The two doctors looked at each other with raised eyebrows. They spoke to each other in -- Tami decided to think of it as Pakistani, even though she wouldn't recognize Pakistani if she heard it. Then Dr. Harridance said, "Miss Smithers, you are a very lucky young woman."

Thinking of her friends, and Rod, Tami thought that in a sense he was right. The other part of her mind was screaming "NO WAY!!"

After another brief pause and a glance at his colleague Dr. Abu Jamal then said, "If you would, Miss Smithers, please get up on all fours facing away from us."


The Unintentional Nudist VII: The Girl in the Mirror, Part 3

Tami knew from having to expose herself in the past that even more humiliating than showing her spread pussy was showing her asshole. Maybe it was because she associated it with being dirty. In the shower she had been careful to keep her anal area very clean; she had a horror of having any uncleanliness show and these days never knew when she would be unexpectedly forced to spread her cheeks and display this most private spot.

She briefly thought of the advice every girl hears, "Always wear clean panties. You never know when you might be in an automobile accident." Ruefully she imagined that for her the advice would be, "Tami Smithers, always keep your asshole clean. You never know when you might be called on to display it."

Tami turned around and planted herself on all fours, like a dog, her knees and toes and palms on the cold metal of the table, trying to numb herself to what was happening. Because of her recent sexual arousal she no longer felt cold. Glancing briefly down, she saw her hanging breasts with the still-erect nipples; then past that, the tuft of her pussy hair. Between her legs she could see the lab coats of the two men as they moved in for a close look. The metal of the table reflected her naked front almost like a mirror. She could see the reflection of her concave belly as it breathed in and out.

The naked teenager tried to take her mind off her shame by looking up across the room at the far wall, where there was a row of glass cabinets. They were filled with jars of what must be chemicals. She was afraid she would see ghastly things like hearts or small animals suspended in liquid, but fortunately there was nothing that looked like that.

She shook a bit when one of the two doctors behind her gently squeezed one of her butt cheeks. Again there was jabbering in Pakistani. Then she heard Dr. Harridance say, "Miss Smithers, if you could lower the front of your body to the table so we could have a better angle."

With a sigh of resignation Tami rested her head on her hands, which she crossed flat on top of the cold table. Offering up her butt like this, now she was like a dog begging to be fucked. She turned her head and stared out the far windows, which as it happened looked out onto the soccer field.

Her toes flexed nervously as Dr. Abu Jamal spread her butt cheeks. Tami was spared having to look but she knew what was happening. The two doctors were discussing the size and shape of her anal sphincter. They must have been leaning pretty close because she could feel their breath on the sensitive brown skin that surrounded her butthole. Of course, everyone knows about my ring of brown skin, she told herself in desolation. Half the campus has gotten a good look at my butthole by now. They'd might as well post pictures of it in the Campus Center. In four years I'll look in the yearbook and instead of my face over my name there'll be a picture of my butthole . . .

"Miss Smithers," Dr. Abu Jamal said, "Have you ever engaged in anal intercourse?"

Tami was jolted by this question and then made a face which, perhaps fortunately, the two men couldn't see. Yuck. She had heard that buttfucking was very painful, and besides, the idea was icky. She said, "No," which led to more discussion between the two doctors.

The naked girl's eyes widened as she heard entering footsteps and a third man join in the jabbering. Is everyone at this Institute a Pakistani? She heard the shifting of shoes -- how she wished she had shoes again! -- and knew that there were now three men looking closely at her anus. More jabbering, and then she felt her butt cheeks being stretched apart this way and that as the men jostled to get a better view. What were they talking about? What were they proposing to do? Tami desperately wanted to know, and yet didn't want to know. . .

She looked out the windows again. Out on the soccer field a squad of girls in matching sweatshirts was slowly jogging across. It was the women's track team. Tami wished she could be allowed the life of a normal girl. There they are, in nice warm sweatshirts, together doing normal girl things and probably engaging in normal girl talk. Here I am, forbidden to ever wear any clothes, stark naked as always, and having my asshole probed and stared at by these grown men in a laboratory. Tami almost wept with longing, thinking of the normal life she was denied.

Her musings were halted by the voice of Dr. Harridance. "Thank you, Miss Smithers, we're done now. You can get down."

Tami turned and saw that there in fact five males there behind her. The third one was another doctor, about 40. But the other two were geeky looking guys, students obviously, who looked barely as old as she was. They smiled at her as she got off the table. As she stood upright before her audience, fighting the urge to cover herself, she realized how much worse it was to be naked in front of young, geeky guys.

"Miss Smithers, this is Dr. Latimer, and two of our interns, Corey and Brendo," Dr. Harridance said. "Gentlemen, this is our physiology model, Miss Tami Smithers. She is a perfect physical specimen."

Tami felt odd being introduced this way. It felt ridiculous but she nodded at the three newcomers in acknowledgement.

"Dr. Abu Jamal will take you down to make out your time sheet," Dr. Harridance said, leaving Tami to depart with the high-strung colleague while he remained to discuss this new physiology model's role in Pakistani (?) with Dr. Latimer. Tami found herself shaking so much from the intensity of what she had just been through that five minutes later she had trouble signing her name to the time sheet.

. . .

When the naked girl remembered where she was, she found herself hunched into a squatting ball in front of the bathroom mirror, the towel wrapped around her shoulders and knees. Her eyes were wet and a tear had dropped onto the cold tile floor next to her big toe. Good God, here I am cowering alone in my own bathroom. She stood up and took a deep breath. I must be strong.

The naked girl turned the light off. The fluorescent buzzing stopped and in the dark there was absolute silence. She then did something which she had recently found herself doing every morning. Tilting her head upwards, eyes closed, she extended her arms up and out and prayed. The prayer had become standardized by now but was not any less hearfelt. It had two parts.

1. Please God, give me clothes.
2. If I can't have clothes, give me the strength to get through whatever awaits me today.

After another deep breath in and out, Tami turned on the light and looked at her trimmed pussy one final time. She decided to let her hair grow out. It will look weird for a while, but in a month when school starts again it should be all grown out like before. Turning to the bathtub, she turned the shower on, stepped in, and reached for the shampoo.

. . .

Martha Smithers hummed happily to herself, flipping pancakes in the kitchen. Gladly following her husband's instructions of the past few weeks, when cooking she was naked except for a wraparound apron and pumps. The little house was warm with the heat from the stove, the heat that came from the newly renovated oil burner, and with the sunlight streaming through the windows on this cold winter's day. It had not snowed yet this year in Tami's home state and the ground outside was bare and brown and hard.

Joe Smithers, age 17, was downstairs playing a video game. John Smithers, head of the household, sat in his favorite chair in the living room in his bathrobe and slippers, reading the newspapers. Across from him was his naked daugher Tami, sitting cross-legged on the couch, leafing slowly through a magazine propped on a pillow which she had placed over her crotch.

Tami sighed lazily. It was nice being at home with nothing to do. She came across a picture of a muscular black man in a swimsuit and thought of Rod. She shifted uneasily as she realized that she was horny. Rod and Jen had both left the college for Christmas break two days before she did. She smiled as she told herself that she hadn't had an orgasm in three days. This was quite a drought after all the sex she had had, especially after the Black Formal. During those last two weeks at college she was fucking Rod almost every night and getting licked by Jen every morning.

Man, I really have turned into a wanton bitch, she told herself with wry satisfaction. Sex, sex, sex, and still I want more. How lucky I am to have Jen to lick me and Rod to fuck me. And they lust after me too . . .

She glanced up at her father. If he finds out about my sex life he'll flip. There's nothing he can do about it, though. Not when I'm about to get a grade report with all A's on it. She was sure of it. All her finals had gone real well.

"Come and get it," Tami's mother announced from the kitchen doorway, giving her husband a wink as she turned her barely-clad body this way and that. Tami's father grinned and cleared his throat as he sauntered past his wife, pinching her on her bare butt. Tami followed sheepishly. Her mother's recent scanty clothing had reawakened her parents' sex life and, just as at Thanksgiving, Tami felt like she was intruding on their flirting just by being around.

Joe having been coaxed from his video game, the four of them were soon sitting at the table wolfing down pancakes. Tami still felt funny sitting naked at her family's table. It wasn't as bad as in the dining hall at college; there was no one gawking at her here, and in the past she had sometimes sat at this table in her bikini in the summer and even in her bra and panties. She was very careful not to let any of the sticky syrup drop down onto her pussy hair.

John Smithers, being the fastest eater, had finished and was quietly sipping coffee when he said, "Today's the day your guy comes."

Tami, her mouth full of pancake, didn't know what to make of this remark. Her guy comes? Is Rod having an orgasm today wherever he is? And why does my father know about it? She almost laughed at having these thoughts. I've got to get my mind off sex.

"The man from the scholarship committee is visiting," Tami's father said.

Shit. She should have been expecting this. As part of her scholarship requirements someone from the committee was supposed to come down to her home twice a year to discuss her progress with her and her parents.

She remembered being told about these visits during that edgy interview with the full committee during summer orientation week. She and her father were very, very nervous and their answers were short and formal. Evidently they went over well because Tami did get the scholarship. But on the drive home her father, a bit irritated, told her that the real reason they wanted to visit her home was because being Catholics made them suspect. As he put it, the conservative Protestants who ran the college wanted to make sure the Smithers family wasn't always getting drunk on church wine or running bingo games out of the basement.

So someone would be visiting twice a year. But Tami hadn't known that the first visit was today. "What"?

John Smithers looked at his wife. Tami's mother said, "Whoops. I forgot to tell her."

"Well, he'll be here at three thirty," John Smithers told his daughter. He looked around. "Fortunately the house looks presentable. The guy's name is Anthony Noyes and hopefully he won't be offended," he said, clearly just as peeved as he was last summer.

Tami closed her eyes and took a breath. She was willing to bet anything that this scholarship guy had been talking to the Dean. She was going to have to buck up and put on her proud nudist face once again. Even back at home on Christmas break she was not free of the clutches of the Dean and that dirty old man Henry Ross.

Well, she still had some hours left before this big meeting. Tami went back up to her room. She had been reassured by her mother that because of the boiler there would always be warmth so she could stay naked. Great. Actually, not so great. It was also not so great that all her clothes had been removed to some unknown place. All the drawers in her dresser were empty. So was the closet.

But there were still blankets on the bed . . .

Tami turned on the clock radio and snuggled under the covers, enjoying the sensuous feel of the soft fabric against her bare skin. Though it was warm in the room she acted as if it was freezing, burrowing under three heavy blankets, with just the top of her head peeking out. She looked out the window at the bare trees swaying outside. Clouds were rolling in and it was getting windy. She wondered what Rod was doing. Having an orgasm today maybe? She smiled. She knew that Jen was with her dad vacationing around the Caribbean. Probably sitting on a hot beach, her dark skin getting even darker.

Tami stretched out under the covers and then curled up again. She felt like a cat. A lazy, horny cat. Three days without an orgasm. Thinking of Rod and his fine, big, thick, silky dick, her hand went to her pussy. Within two seconds she was so wet that she could fit in three fingers, darting in and out, rubbing the clit on the way, rubbing, rubbing . . . Two minutes later the whole bed vibrated and then shook gently with little jolts. It was a nice, satisfying, relaxing little orgasm. Beneath the covers, the naked girl brought her hand up under her nose, smelling the fragrance of pussy juice that she realized for the first time smelled just like Jen's. . . With a smile on her face she drifted off to sleep . . .

The Unintentional Nudist VII: The Girl in the Mirror, Part 4

Tami was awakened simultaneously by two things: her father calling up to her room, and the clock radio. Curled up under the heavy blankets in her warm moist cocoon, she got her wits about her after a few seconds and it was easy to understand why her father sounded so impatient. "Tam! C'mon! The guy will be here in half an hour!!"

The clock radio was not so easy to understand. Damn this old thing, she said to herself as she tried to turn it off. She was emotionally attached to it -- she had gotten it for Christmas when she was eight years old -- but the summer before it had started going off at odd times. She had ended up getting a new one for college. Finally with fumbling fingers she turned off the music and sat up.

Well, time to do my naked thing again, she told herself. But first a few more seconds of being covered. She gathered the blankets around herself and stood up and walked to the door, wrapped up like an Indian woman. Then with a sigh she dropped them to the floor and went naked into the bathroom. In the shower she realized how sticky her pussy had gotten and washed it out thoroughly. She tried to pretend she would be getting into clothes momentarily. Shower, dry, comb hair, brush teeth . . .

She descended to the living room, clean and well-combed and naked, feeling the carpet under her bare feet and that familiar sense of shame beginning to pucker up in her stomach. Her father had made a good choice in clothing. In the same position he was in this morning, sitting in his chair reading the newspaper, he had on a buttoned shirt, a cardigan, corduroy pants, and loafers. Neat but not too formal.

As her mother came in with a tray of coffee things Tami almost groaned. Of course Mrs. Smithers wasn't going to greet the eminent Mr. Noyes in just her apron and pumps. But she overdid it . . . in her flowered dress and headband, she looked like a real Happy Homemaker. Tami sighed. She wished she had the option of making even bad clothing decisions. But clothing was no longer part of her life.

"Let's just be loose with this guy. You have nothing to worry about," Tami's father said reassuringly, rustling his newspaper. Yet Tami felt queasy as she sat at the couch idly flipping through magazines and watching the minutes tick by. 3:30 . . . 3:35 . . . 3:40 . . . It was the shortest day of the year, and it was already starting to get dark out . . .

Finally at 3:45 the doorbell rang. Tami was surprised at the person Tami's mother escorted into the living room. Somehow she expected a replica of Dean Jorgon. But this guy was not a professorial-looking bureaucract. For one thing, he was huge. As her father stood to introduce himself and shake his hand, she noticed that this guy towered at least eight inches over him. He was solidly built, and looked like an ex-football player who might be still exercising regularly. He looked about fifty years old, gray at the temples, wore a three-piece suit, and spoke in a loud voice.

"Tony Noyes," he said, grabbing Tami's hand with a confident air, looking squarely at her face with no sense that he actually wanted to be looking further down. "This won't take long. I just wanted to see how you're doing."

After everyone exchanged pleasantries and started in on the coffee and cookies, Mr. Noyes said, "Let me say first, Mr. and Mrs. Smithers, that we are very proud of your daughter's attendance at Campbell - Frank College. In spite of her, uh, unconventional lifestyle choice, which we realize she is entitled to under our Constitution, her faculty advisor reports that she has perfect attendance and her grades so far have been uniformly excellent."

Tami blushed as she felt the proud looks of the three of them -- her father, her mother, and Mr. Noyes -- upon her. She took a deep breath. She was sitting in a wood chair between her father and her mother, who was on the couch. Mr. Noyes was across from her in a big cushioned chair. Any teenager would have blushed, if only with pride. But for a totally naked girl trying to show this man that she had no desire to cover any part of herself, it was a peculiar and intense type of mortification. She smiled shyly, sitting straight up, feet flat on the floor, hands clasped over her navel (leaving her pussy showing), her knees exactly twelve inches apart.

Mr. Noyes, it turned out, got along pretty well with Tami's father. Mr. Smithers's initial resentment melted away as he and Mr. Noyes discussed the scholarship situation at the college and getting scholarships in general. Tami's father got in a few words about his own education as an electrical engineer and how much better his daughter was at math than he was. He even excused himself to fish around in the closet and emerge with his old slide rule. Playing with it, Mr. Noyes said, "Wow, this is a real relic . . . you don't see these any more!" and spoke of the trouble he had with physics when he was in college himself.

While they were engaged in this male bonding the phone rang. Mrs. Smithers picked it up in the kitchen. Coming out to the living room, she said, "Excuse me, but Tami, Charlene called and your high school friends are having a little reunion party tonight at her house. Are you coming?"

Tami by now had mastered the art of maintaining a deadpan expression while cowering in dread underneath. There was no way she was going to be naked in front of her old high school friends. "Tell her I'll call her back, O.K.?" As her father and Mr. Noyes continued chatting, Tami formed a plan in her mind to call Charlene back later, talk about old times, and then beg off going to the party because she was sick.

"At the rate she's going, she could get her degree in three years maybe," Mr. Noyes said. This statement caught Tami's ear. Maybe only three years! She hadn't thought of that possibility. One semester's gone. That means only two and a half years! Graduation . . . and CLOTHES!! She drifted into one of her favorite things to think about, graduation day. How she would get to wear that robe, and then, finally free of the threat of being expelled, go right to the stores that very afternoon and buy clothes to cover her from head to toe, clothes, clothes, more clothes, Tami the clothes horse, the fashion plate, that will be what they will call me from then on . . .

The two men were now talking about Tami's home town. "It's a very Catholic town," Mr. Smithers said with some pride and assertiveness. He was really at ease now. "Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve at the local church, St. Mary's, for example. It's a real place to be for the young people. Tami went every year all through high school," he said, motioning to his daughter and waking her out of her blissful reverie.

Realizing what he had been talking about, Tami smiled a tight smile. Well, I'm sure as hell not going to Midnight Mass THIS year, she told herself. She was determined to stay at home as much as possible the whole break. She wanted to keep the number of gawking eyes to a minimum. No party with high school friends. No visiting anybody, period. Definitely no Midnight Mass.

As the talk wound down, Tami felt relieved. This meeting went O.K. It was shameful to sit naked in front of this man and her parents, on display once again, but compared to her other encounters with college personnel this had been pleasant. She was grateful that this meeting was all she was going to have to endure in the way of public exposure until school started again.

After Mr. Noyes said good-bye to Tami's mother (who had hardly said a word), Tami followed her father out as they walked Mr. Noyes to his car, which turned out to be a big black Lincoln Continental. It was now pitch black outside. Mr. Noyes opened his trunk and put his briefcase in. Then Mr. Noyes and Tami's father started chatting again. The naked daughter stood next to them, trying to be inconspicuous. She looked around furtively. She didn't want the neighbors to see her. Fortunately the light from the nearby telephone pole was broken. The three of them were in almost total darkness, mere silhouettes. Probably not even her mother could see them if she had been looking out the window.

It was a long, long good-bye. The two men started chatting about the local sports teams, the town around Campbell - Frank College, the economy . . .

The wind was kicking up. It was noticeably colder than even a few minutes ago. Tami crossed her arms, hugging herself. Running in cold weather was one thing, but having to stand still like this she couldn't generate any heat. She looked down at her freezing, white feet and felt the shivers begin. Come on, Dad! Say goodbye already!

Finally! John Smithers confidently shook hands with Mr. Noyes and, wrapping his warm, cardigan-clad arm around his daughter's shoulders, started back to the house. With a little wave to Noyes, Tami took a couple of steps with him until Noyes said, "Miss Smithers, if you don't mind, I'd like a few quick words with you."

Tami, hugging herself and rubbing her hands against her upper arms, watched her father go in and turned to look up at Mr. Noyes.

His convivial expression was suddenly gone. He stared down at the cold, naked girl with a look of dead poison that made her hold her breath. His voice was low, loud and stern. "Young lady, just what kind of crap are you trying to lay on us?"

"W - what?"

"This whole nudism thing is a bunch of shit. You know, I know it, the Dean knows it . . . "

Tami couldn't look him in the eye.

"I don't know what kind of jollies you are getting by showing yourself off like some whore, but you are making a MOCKERY of the college. Am I right?"

Rubbing the soles of her bare feet against the cold sidewalk, trying to get some feeling back in them, the naked girl said, "I'm getting c - c- cold . . ."

"You should be used to it by now," he said dismissively. "Look at me. Look me right in eye!"

Tami slowly looked up with eyes full of fear.

"Tell me right now. You're not a real nudist, are you?"

Tami didn't answer.

"The reason you didn't want to go see your high school friends is because you didn't want them to see you naked. Right?"

Tami bit her lip.

"The same with that midnight mass. You're just as modest as the rest of us. You don't want to be naked in public. Right?"

Tami's shivering turned into shaking. Her lips were turning blue. A bone-chilling gust of wind blew across as the tall, heavily clothed man, swathed in overcoat, hat, scarf and gloves, glared down like a big hot angry bear to the shivering, naked girl. Like that time in the Dean's office, Tami was doubly aware of her nudity and felt alone, tiny, helpless, totally overpowered. The cold and the wind and the shivering made the feeling a hundred times worse. And though this guy knew the truth, as did the Dean, this guy was direct, hostile, accusing.

Part of Tami just wanted to admit it, end the charade, put on clothes, go inside and get warm. But to be expelled . . .

"Why exactly don't you want to go to that party? And why exactly aren't you going to church on Christmas Eve like you always did before?" Noyes was relentless. He was determined to break this girl. "Tell me!"

Tami didn't answer. She shrugged. "I . . . d - d - don't know."

"Well, Miss, I DO know."

Tami took a deep breath of freezing air and looked up at the sky. She pressed her legs together. "P - p - please . . . I'm c - c- cold . . ."

"Young lady, this visit ends when I say it ends. If you go inside now . . . I'll take it as a sign that you agree with me and . . . I'll report accordingly." Noyes's pauses were long. His words were slow. He was using the cold to torture the poor naked girl and extract a confession. "Now. . . in a few days I'll call your father on a pretense and work in a question as to whether you went to that party. And whether you went naked. You'd better go, young lady. And you'd better be at that midnight mass!"

Tami's teeth were chattering. She felt weak as the last of her body heat began to drain out of her. Her lips were now blue. It was getting hard to keep standing. Her legs started to wobble. She stared dully at Noyes's heavy coat. "Y - y - you'll be at mass?"

"Of course not, I'm not Catholic. But I'll have someone there."

Tami swallowed and felt about to cry. In her misery she began to not care about what she said. She expressed the defiance which, had she been thinking about her last meeting with the Dean, she would have remembered was a bad idea. "Y - you can't spy on me . . . like th - th - that. . ."

"My dear, I'm not peeking into your bedroom window." Another slow pause. "But when you're out in public you can't control whether someone wants to look or not." Another slow pause. "Why would you complain?" Another pause. "Miss Smithers, you WERE naked . . . and you ARE naked . . . and NOBODY . . . is forcing you to wear clothes. A real nudist would have no reason to complain."

In her dulled mind the freezing, naked girl heard echoes of similar words spoken by the Dean. She gulped again.

Noyes sighed and seemed to draw back a bit. In a calmer voice he said, "You are a religious nudist, Miss Smithers. You believe modesty is a sin. Well, be a nudist." Noyes took one final look at the shivering, blue-lipped, chattering, naked girl. "Now go in and take a hot shower. Merry Christmas." He turned and got into the big Lincoln and drove off.

With a quick look up Tami stumbled back into the house, passing her father in the doorway, who had gotten up to see why his daughter had stayed out so long in the cold. Tami ran straight up to the bathroom. She was under the hot water for a long time.


The Unintentional Nudist VII: The Girl in the Mirror, Part 5

Tami, having stood motionless under the hot spray, finally turned it off, continuing to stare at the faucets as she had been doing for a long time. She had long ago gotten warmed up and by now was sweating as if in a sauna. In the dripping stillness she continued thinking.

How do I get out of going to Charlene's party? Of course, that wasn't the worst horror. The worst horror was going to Midnight Mass. That was only a little more than 24 hours away. She closed her eyes, shuddering at the thought. Then she decided she was going to think only about today. One day at a time . . .

Mr. Noyes would find out from her father if she'd gone to the party or not. Well, so she had to go out . . . but she didn't have to go to that party. Tami smirked as she realized what a ridiculous hypothetical that was. Of course she had to go. Where else would she go, walking out naked into a cold winter night? It would have to be Charlene's.

Maybe it wouldn't b