Rob’s apartment was warmer than normal for me, which was nice of him. He had also laid a sheet on the floor. I would be down there, and he wanted me to have a comfortable place to kneel, sit, and lay. He was like that at college, too; always thoughtful and respectful of the girls. The guys were all in jeans and t-shirts. Tiffany and Sarah, in order to mock my situation, had dressed in jeans, socks, white t-shirts and black bras. The dark colored undergarments were intentional so that I could see that they’re allowed more than twice as much clothing as me. “We don’t go to that college” they reminded me earlier, “so we don’t have to follow the same rules.” Rob and Tom go to school with me. Tom is my boyfriend, and Rob is one of his best friends. We all went to high school together. The Peer Inspection Process was newly implemented, and before we left to come home for summer break a letter was delivered to all students reminding us that the decency restrictions outlined in the CCC were not just on-campus restrictions. All students were expected to uphold the College Code of Conduct and dress code at all times for as long as they were students at the college. “…Just as the female students are required to follow the school dress code even when off campus,” the memo had read, “a male student who will see any female classmates over the break must follow the same rules and guidelines regarding Peer Inspections at home. This will help to ensure that no student embarrasses the school or herself by dressing or behaving inappropriately while away from the School Inspectors and the Administration. This is not optional.” Rob invited me over for a party. Frank was thinking of transferring next semester and Justin and Curt were thinking about going there after they graduate high school. Part of the CCC states that all students should, at all times, act as ambassadors to the college and strive to help portray the school in a positive light. This includes helping to explain the rules, code of conduct, dress code, and any other aspects of the school. Therefore, I was required to help explain the Peer Inspection Process if that’s what Tom and Rob wanted. And of course that’s what they wanted. Not that it mattered. The Peer Inspections process allowed for the guys to inspect the girls at any time. Its design is supposed to be as a service to the girls to help them feel better about their clothing choices and to keep them out of trouble with the inspectors, but most of the guys just have fun with it. The hard part is that it really does work. The girls adhere so tightly with the dress code at school now because the guys in our dorms are so much more strict than the inspectors, and if we don’t dress perfectly the guys will confiscate our clothes and we’ll end up naked for the rest of the day. One of the rules is that if you change clothes you have to ask a guy who inspected you earlier to reinspect you. If you fail a Peer Inspection and the guy confiscates your clothes you have to wait for him to have time to inspect you again before you can try a different outfit. If he’s late for class or has to do homework or something you could spend the whole day naked waiting for him. It’s easier to be really sure that you’re dressed correctly in the first place. Sometimes it sucks for the girls, but it’s hard to complain to the administration about something that has almost completely eliminated dress code violations all over the school, so we girls just have to put up with it. When the Peer Inspections were first introduced at school all of the girls were required to go to their guy friends and offer to help them learn the process. We were told that the guys would be too bashful and shy to ask us for help, so because they were doing it to help us we should all make the first move. Each guy would take turns inspecting the girl, and the others would watch and make sure they understood everything. The girls were supposed to bring a few different changes of clothes in different styles to help make sure that the guys got experience with different issues that might come up. Recalling this, Rob asked me to bring several changes of clothes so everyone at the party could practice. By virtue of me being a student of the college, I had no real option available. I could beg the guys not to do it, which I knew would be futile. I could refuse and pray that they would not report me to the school administration, which I knew would be a wasted prayer, or I could drop out of college, which would probably get me disowned by my parents, likely leaving me with no place to live, no job and no education. My only course of action was that prescribed by the CCC, which was to voluntarily go along with the rules and prove my compliance. Therefore, I arrived at Rob’s house that Saturday attired in accordance with the dress code, and with several spare outfits in a bag for further practice should my friends deem it necessary. Rob asked me to pose for a picture at the beginning of the night. He always had his camera with him at school.  You would think that after being inspected at school at least once or twice a day including weekends that I would be used to being naked and no longer embarrassed by it. Some of the girls don’t seem to mind that much, but my biggest problem is that I’m an exhibitionist. I hate being naked, but at the same time the humiliation and embarrassment of it turns me on. That embarrasses me even more, which turns me on even more. I’m lucky that Tom is my boyfriend and keeps most of the guys at school in line. Not that he prevents them from teasing me or inspecting me, but at least I don’t get raped. The party started tame enough, with everyone standing around talking about college life, talking to the younger guys about how their classes were going in high school and catching up on other such things, but the conversation finally funneled around to the CCC, and all of the rules. Tom and Rob explained a lot of the background to the others, and eventually came to the dress code. Rob asked me to explain it to everyone. In school, often times we girls are required to cite the dress code to prove our knowledge and understanding of it. Consistent compliance is achievable only if the students have full and demonstrable comprehension of the code and the reasons behind it. I sound like I’m regurgitating a text book when I say it because I’ve memorized my speech on it. We’re supposed to put it in our own words, but we have to say it so many times that it’s just engrained. I started by explaining about layering of clothing. Then I continued, “Layering of clothing is prohibited, and overlapping clothing is too. The difference is subtle, but they’re unique issues. Layering would include panties under shorts, skirt or pants, tights under a skirt, or multiple t-shirts or a bra and t-shirt together. Overlapping clothing involves a top that covers some of the “bottoms”, meaning anything worn below the belly-button. The theory here is that girls might wear a really short dress, relying on their panties to cover them completely. This is immodest and against the spirit of the CCC, so a hard line is drawn. Girls are allowed either a top and bottom, or a “body covering”. A body covering is a dress or other item of clothing that crosses the imaginary line at the naval. Overalls, a dress, a jump-suit, or a long t-shirt, like a night shirt, are all examples of a body covering. This forces the girls to carefully choose what they wear, and what can be seen. If a girl wants to wear a micro-mini dress, she needs to suffer the consequence of not being allowed to wear panties with it, and sitting appropriately to keep her dignity and modesty.” Everyone already knew about this, but it was still embarrassing saying it. I was pretty much telling all of my guy friends, including some that were still in high school, that I never wear a bra or panties, which made my face flush a bit. It was even harder because I could see the dark outline of Tiffany and Sarah’s bras under their white shirts, making me so much more aware of how little I was wearing. Then came the hard part. “Lastly, some girls pushed the envelope and decided to wear pubic hair as a bottom, arguing that it hides their pussies. I think it was originally done as an act of civil disobedience to try to prove the unfairness of the rules, but the college administration responded by agreeing, and making it against the dress code to wear any bottoms unless the girl was completely shaved below the waist. This new rule was effective in stopping this form of protest, but raised an interesting question during inspections. Specifically, how much pubic hair is enough to be considered a ‘bottom’? The Peer Inspection process drew a hard line, since the Peer Inspections are non-punitive.” “Non what?” interrupted Justin. “Non Punitive.” I replied. “It means that the girls can’t get in trouble if they’re in violation unless they refuse to comply at the end of the inspection.” “Oh. What do you mean comply at the end?” “Let’s say that a girl is wearing panties under her skirt. The peer inspector would find out, and he’d confiscate them after the inspection was over. If she insisted on putting them back on, she’d be blatantly in violation of the dress code, and she’d get in trouble.” “Got it.” He smiled, but blushed, which was kind of cute. I continued. “So they drew a hard line for peer inspections. ANY pubic hair is considered pubic hair for a peer inspection. A real school inspector can make a determination in the field if a girl is being inspected, but a peer inspection is designed to be as black-and-white as possible. So part of the peer inspection process is a close-up examination of the pubic area, including a tactile examination.” “What do you mean ‘tactile’ examination?” interrupted Curt. I felt my face blush deeper. “It means that you run your fingers over the area, and if you feel stubble, you should consider it pubic hair.” All five guys grinned widely, while Sarah and Tiffany laughed out loud. I felt my face flush again. “I’m wearing jeans and big ol’ granny-panties, and I still keep my bush!” announced Sarah, bragging to make me feel even less covered. She was my best friend, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t sometimes cruel to me. “I still prefer a thong, but I always wear my panties under my jeans.” Agreed Tiffany smugly, also stressing the extreme unfairness of my situation. After everyone had calmed down, Rob took charge again. “So now you all pretty much understand the rules. The last one I’ll mention is that she has to obey every command given by the inspector during an inspection.” he said. “So do you guys all want to see how the inspection process works?” Even Sarah and Tiffany wanted to see it. I knew all the guys would want to see, of course, but it just made it that much more embarrassing that the girls were there. It emphasized to me just how singled out I was. “Stand up, Cheryl.” instructed Rob. I complied.  “So the first thing I look at is what she’s wearing. She’s got jeans and a short shirt on, which is fine. Around school she’d attract the attention of the Inspectors because there’s no way to tell if she’s wearing a bra or panties, but as long as she’s not she’s probably fine.” he explained. “Her shirt stops about two inches above her belly-button where it’s tied, so the length looks okay. But we still don’t know if she’s wearing a bra or panties, and we don’t know if the shirt is truly in compliance. A double-knit shirt with two layers of cotton would technically be considered layering, for example, or it she could button the shirt and make it longer.” Then to me he said, “Please remove your shirt so I can verify you’re not wearing a bra and inspect your shirt.” I felt my face flush as I obeyed. In school, hesitation is often mistaken for an admission of guilt, and even if you prove yourself innocent, the inspectors will make your life really hard for stalling. Even though the basement air was warm, my nipples erected almost immediately upon exposure. The knowing smiles and Sarah and Tiffany’s giggles let me know that this fact wasn’t missed by anyone in the room. I tossed my shirt to Rob so he could inspect it thoroughly to make sure it was fully compliant.  He explained what to look for as he turned the shirt over, inside out, and around in his hands. He showed everyone that there were no buttons on the shirt, so it had to be worn tied, which would keep it short enough to be okay and end above my belly button. For my part, I stood topless in front of them, waiting for my next command. Per the school rules, my arms remained at my sides, my breasts uncovered and exposed to their gaze. To cover myself might indicate that I’m trying to hide something, which can cause trouble with Inspectors.  “Now I need you to remove your jeans so we can verify that you’re not wearing panties, and that your jeans are compliant.” He said. I was almost startled by his voice. I had been looking at the girls, at the outline of their black bras against the white of their t-shirts, knowing that they were making a sarcastic fashion statement to tease me, but still jealous of the coverage. I hadn’t worn a bra under my t-shirt since my first day on campus. Almost on their own, my hands jumped to my belt, and in only a few seconds I had it undone and had pushed the zipper down.  As I started to push my jeans down, Rob interrupted. “I don’t want you to lose your balance. Why don’t you come down to the floor before pulling them the rest of the way off.” This is a trick the guys use at school when a girl wears pants. Down on my knees it takes a bit longer to remove the jeans, and I will have to move around a lot more to get them off. It gives them a better show, even though they are going to see everything anyway. Knowing better than to delay, I quickly droppped to my knees and pushed my jeans down. I had kicked off my shoes and socks at the door; the shoes because I’m polite, and the socks at Rob’s request. You learn a lot about your guy friends at a school like ours, and I quickly learned that Rob likes bare feet. There was now little doubt that I was fully compliant with the dress code. I had not worn panties, and my bald pussy was now quite easily observable by everyone in the room. I knew better than to try to cover up or delay, so I turned onto my back and kicked my jeans the rest of the way off. Another thing I know from past experience is that the guys like it more when the girls kick off their pants because it forces them to spread their legs and move around a lot more. The guys will sometimes make it harder on you if they feel like you’re trying to hide.    I handed my jeans to Rob, who quickly checked them to ensure no additional fabric was sewn in to act as a pseudo-panty. He then began to explain further rules, leaving me sitting naked and on display. Once again I knew better than to cover up, although I did keep my legs together to preserve a bit of modestly while waiting.  “At this point in the inspection I have verified that the clothes she was wearing were all compliant. The shirt was short enough, and the jeans didn’t come up over her belly button, so there was no potential overlap. Her shirt is single-layer cotton, and there were no buttons on it so she had to wear it tied, which insures it’s short enough. Her jeans are standard jeans, with nothing sewn in or anything to make her guilty of layering. It’s pretty easy to tell she’s not wearing a bra or panties, or anything else for that matter!” His joke elicited a laugh from everyone, and a blush from me. “So now the only thing left is the inspection of her, so I can confirm that she doesn’t have any pubic hair.” Everyone smiled in anticipation. I knew that the secret of my growing arousal would become public knowledge soon enough, and I felt myself blush again. “If I determine that she has pubic hair, then I can’t allow her to wear a bottom again for the rest of the night.” he continued. “If she was wearing a dress or a body covering, I couldn’t let her have it back at all, and she’d have to stay naked. If I gave her a dress with pubic hair, she’d be overlapping and we could both get in trouble.” “So first I just look. It’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t wear pubic hair, since she appears completely bald from here. But I need to do a thorough inspection to be sure. If I just glance at her and then decide that it’s good enough, and then she gets inspected later and gets in trouble, I’d feel really bad.” He told them. “So I’m going to ask her to spread her legs a bit first.”  I did as I was told, and knew that doing so would make my lips pull slightly apart. I wondered to myself if they could tell how wet I was yet. I knew it wouldn’t be long, in any event. “A little wider… good.” My legs were about six inches wider than shoulder width, and my blush was as deep as it had been all night. I couldn’t bring myself to look down to see what they were seeing. “Now I can get a pretty good look at the general area around there, and move in close to look for pubic hair.” He said. “But sometimes pubic hair grows in weird places, so in order to be really thorough I usually ask the girl to lie back and spread her legs really wide so I can see the skin right up to the edge.” Again, acting from instinct born of knowing what hesitation can mean, I quickly followed his command. Or at least I tried to. I pushed my first and second fingers between my lips and then pushed my fingers apart, and two things happened at the exact same time. First, I learned that I was at least as wet as I feared I was. Second, and because of the first thing, my now-wet fingers slipped off my lips spreading my moisture onto the skin on my outer lips. My blush grew deeper, as did my arousal. I shuddered slightly and felt my nipples erect once more. More slowly this time, and with more care, I pulled my lips apart to allow Rob to see that I had no hair hiding on the edges of my pussy. Rob left me there as he allowed everyone else to see, too. No one said anything about my obvious arousal, and although I was thankful for that, it felt like an 800 pound gorilla in the room that everyone, including me, was pretending to ignore. “The guidebook also says to check her anus for pubic hair.” Rob announced, as though this should be nothing more embarrassing for me than checking my wrist for a watch. “So I can either have her turn and bend over, or lie on her back and pull her legs up in the air. Those are the two easiest, anyway, but there are other ways to check.” He hadn’t given me specific direction, but I didn’t wish to to be accused of standing still, so I uncertainly turned in place and bent over, once again spreading my legs wide until I knew that they could clearly see what they needed to see. I could feel the moisture from my pussy starting to lubricate the skin around it, but still they all feigned ignorance of the situation.  “So in this position you can see her asshole pretty clearly. It’s just as bald as her pussy as far as I can see. So far, she’s passing the inspection.” He said. His nonchalant, businesslike attitude was making it even harder for me. It was so difficult to be there, in that position with a group of my friends, knowing what I was displaying to them all, with Rob acting like he was showing them nothing more interesting than his new shoes. These were my friends from high school, people I’ve known for years, with whom I’ve always been an equal. Now they were in control, seeing me naked, intimately, close up and able to hide nothing, and I had to pose for them in any way they asked. I would never see any of them in this same way, and would never have this kind of control over them. The fact that all of this turned me on so much was even more embarrassing, and made those feelings even more intense. Rob allowed everyone to move in closer for a better view, and then asked me to sit back with my legs pulled up, so they could see the other pose that would allow them visibility to everything. I saw how wet I was, and how obvious it was. I could smell my own arousal, but still they all pretended to ignore it, even as they moved in closer to inspect me. It was in this position that he left me while he explained the tactile inspection. As he spoke I looked around the room at my friends. None of them were looking at Rob.  “The next part of any inspection is to finally validate the pubic hair, or lack thereof, with a tactile inspection. You run your hands lightly over the area to feel for stubble or hair. Any hairs at all would have to constitute pubic hair, and would count as a bottom.” He explained, pointing to my exposed sex.  “That doesn’t seem fair!” said Tiffany. “I thought that at first,” answered Tom, “but it kind of makes sense. The Peer Inspections are done informally, and the real school inspectors can get the girls in big trouble. If a school inspector wants to bust a girl, he can find any excuse, but if we do a really good job of peer inspecting, there will be nothing for a school inspector to find, and the girls will be safe from getting in trouble.” “I guess that makes sense.” said Tiffany, still uncertain. “At school we were taught to ask the girls to do their own tactile inspections first, so we can see how they use their hands on themselves. That way we can learn the best way to do it, and they can tell us afterwards if they felt any stubble or hairs. It gets them in the habit of self inspections, and if they do a good job at that, then they’ll pass a much higher percentage of both peer inspections and school inspections.” Rob continued.  “That makes sense.” giggled Sarah, knowing what was coming. “Cheryl, go ahead and put your feet on the floor, spread your legs wide, and run your fingers around your pubic area so I can get an idea of how you like that area touched. Remember any areas you think you might feel some stubble or hair so I can take a look.” Rob instructed. I started running my hand around my Mons and the cleft of my pussy. I couldn’t believe how wet I was.  “She’s really obviously turned on, and as wet as she is, chances are good she’ll end up cuming from this.” Rob said, commenting on my arousal for the first time. This announcement was met by giggles and quiet laughter from my friends. I felt myself blush anew, but my excitement ratcheted up a notch as the 800 pound gorilla was finally acknowledged. I almost let out a nervous laugh as the gorilla analogy made me think of bananas. “I think it would be rude to deny her an orgasm when she’s that worked up,” Rob said, “and she probably won’t be able to concentrate on the inspection in this state, so I think it’s best if we just wait for her to cum before we move on.” I felt a wave of embarrassment and relief simultaneously. The embarrassment is obvious. The relief was because I had just been given permission to cum. Now I could masturbate and just be following his command; Rob had just so much as said he’d leave me there masturbating myself until I came. Now, when I did cum, I was following orders, so it wasn’t my fault. I know it’s a small distinction, and pretty weak, but I needed to be able to shift the blame. It would still be embarrassing, but I could justify my behavior to myself, and that would allow me to do what I wanted – no, what I needed to do. And it didn’t take long.   “So now she should be less turned on, so we should be able to proceed.” Rob said, further humiliating me. I wanted to cum again. I could have pretty easily, but I didn’t have permission. He didn’t offer me a towel or a Kleenex, he just left me there with my legs spread and wet with my own juices. “So now I’ll perform the tactile inspection myself.” he told everyone. “Were there any areas I need to focus on?” he asked me. I shook my head. I couldn’t speak; I was too embarrassed. I use Nair, and I use it thoroughly, so I knew that there would be no stubble. Then there were gentle fingers touching me. He ran his hands all around me, from my belly button to mid thigh, leaving no area untouched. He gently and slowly spread my lips, running his fingers along the skin that folded over to hide my most intimate parts. His inspection was very thorough, and he kept me mere inches from orgasm, but still not allowing me to reach my second climax. “Now I need to inspect her asshole.” He said. He moved my legs upwards, spreading me wider as he did so, so that my pussy stood open, nearly dripping.  My juices had run between my legs, following gravity and painting my puckered anus with a glossy, shiny lacquer. He gently ran his finger down from my slit, sliding easily along the skin riding on a layer of my juices. When his finger, with just a small amount of pressure, touched my rear hole, I came again. He pushed his finger against me, not hard enough to enter me, but putting force behind it. My pussy was wide open to the gaze of my friends, not covered even by the tiny amount of modesty that a finger provides. I came at least as hard as the first time. When my spasms and aftershocks had subsided, Rob removed his finger and smiled at me. I blushed furiously and looked away in response. “She did an excellent job removing all of her pubic hair.” Rob announced. “I’m very impressed. So now I can give her clothes back to her and she can dress, secure in the knowledge that a school inspector would be able to find no problems, and safe from any disciplinary action that a dress code violation would bring.” I blushed, but was pleased that this was over. “Does anyone else want to give her an inspection?” Everyone wanted to. Even Sarah and Tiffany. Tom, as my boyfriend, had closely inspected my body more than anyone else, but wanted to again this night. He volunteered to go last. Justin was to go next. I was sent to retrieve my bag and select my next outfit. I selected a micro-miniskirt and short, tight t-shirt. I still had no shoes or socks. Rob handed me a towel to clean the moisture from my thighs, pussy and butt, and then I dressed. “So where do you want to start?” asked Rob. “I started by asking about her bra and t-shirt, but you don’t have to start there. It’s completely up to the inspector.” “Oh.” Replied Justin sheepishly. “Then I think we should start with her skirt.” I pulled the zipper down and allowed the skirt to fall to the floor at my feet. I handed it to Justin. He quickly looked at it and looked to Rob questioningly. Rob explained what to look for, as a built-in panty or similar. “So now her shirt?” Justin asked, looking questioningly at Rob. “Tell her, not me.” Rob replied. I quickly pulled my shirt off and handed it to Justin. I had been dressed, or at least partially, for almost five minutes. Justin looked at the t-shirt, and then set it aside. He had me repeat the poses that Rob had put me through while he closely inspected my glistening pussy and asshole. I was still wet, and getting turned on again. When I laid on the floor, Rob interrupted him. “She’s still all wet, but it’s best at times like this if we know if she’s turned on or just still wet from last time. There are a couple of ways to check. First, look at her nipples. See how hard they are? You can touch them, too, to check. Justin eagerly reached out and tweaked my nipples. Rob calmly walked him through a few different ways to pinch or squeeze my nipples, and explained the it was pretty obvious that I was still aroused.  “Another way to check is to feel inside her pussy to see how wet it is. If this was residual moisture from last time, she would have dried up a bit inside.” He explained. A moment later I felt his finger slide gently and easily inside me. “You guys all want to try this?” One by one my friends’ fingers entered my soaking pussy. Tiffany licked her own finger clean; everyone else wiped theirs off on a hand towel that Rob had near him. I was ready to cum again, such was my arousal at this. “So it would appear that she’s sexually excited again,” Rob said, unable to hide the mirth in his voice. “so you can allow her to cum again, or just press on, and if she cums, she cums.” “I think we should let her cum again.” he said. “That’s really nice of you.” replied Rob. “Go ahead and tell her to inspect herself, and that she has permission to cum if she wants.” Justin passed the message along to me, but I was already touching myself. Less than five minutes later, I came again. I came just as hard as I had the twice before. Once again Rob pushed on, not offering to allow me to clean myself up. He instructed Justin on how to touch me to feel for pubic hair, and then Justin had me flip over and stick my ass out so he could inspect my anus. The humiliation was great, and I was getting more aroused again, but he didn’t make me cum again, though not for lack of trying. Curt was next, and I wore a different mini skirt and a bikini top. Frank went after Curt, and I put on a short red dress that I owned. Sarah was after Frank, and I had a pair of shorts and a short cami. Each person found ways to determine if I was aroused, and each person gave me permission to masturbate for the group before proceeding with the Inspection. If they stopped in order to discuss something they first found an interesting pose for me to ensure I had no true modesty.    Tiffany went after Sarah, and I had to mix and match; I hadn’t expected this many inspections. I wore the micro-miniskirt with the bikini top. She was the first to not give me permission to masturbate. Instead, she performed the inspection with her expert fingers, teasing and taunting me, until she had a finger pressed against my clit and another pressed against my asshole, and I lost myself in yet another orgasm. She put her fingers, slick with my juices, into my mouth when I was done. “Normally girls aren’t able to give inspections at college,” Rob said as Tiffany moved away from me, “but we can still teach them how to do it. If they know what we’re looking for, it makes it easier for them to be compliant.” Tom now spoke up. “I am going to go last, but I want to try something different. Everything Cheryl brought along is compliant with the dress code, and unless we have her put a skirt on under her dress or something, we can’t even mix it up to show you guys what a violation looks like.” Rob and Tom went to Rob’s bedroom while I wiped myself off once again, and they returned with one of Rob’s t-shirts. They had me pull on the micro-miniskirt, and then Rob’s t-shirt. The shirt was small, and obviously older, but it came just below my belly button, which was their intent. “Excellent.” said Tom. “Who can tell me how this is in violation?” Tiffany was the first to reply. “The shirt is too long. It’s a… what do you call it… body cover thing.” “Correct. The shirt’s hem is below her belly button, so it is too long to be worn as a shirt. Normally, a girl would select a different shirt, either a lot longer or a little shorter, but sometimes girls think that as long as there’s skin showing between the shirt and their skirt or whatever, they’re fine. This is a technical violation of the CCC and the dress code.” And with that, he began the inspection. “As you guys can tell, the inspections can get pretty boring for the girls. Especially for the ones who’re not cumming every five minutes!” I blushed fiercely when he said that. Everyone else giggled and looked at me. “Since you guys all pretty much understand how the inspections work we don’t have to go through it and explain what we’re doing any more. If we were at school, say at a party like this one, chances are good people would be dancing and stuff.” Tom said. “So rather than stop the whole party and make everyone stop having fun just so we can do a Peer Inspection, we just tell the girls to keep dancing and having fun until the tactile inspection part.” I felt my face flush again. Tom did this to me at school all the time. “Cheryl, why don’t you get up and dance, and we’ll do this like an inspection at school.” He said to me. “Anyone else who wants to dance, go ahead. Otherwise you can just sit and watch if you want to learn more about the process.” Everyone giggled as I stood and started dancing alone. Rob turned the music up a little bit, but not so loud that we couldn’t talk. After a minute or two Tom announced that he needed to Peer Inspect me, and asked me to give him my shirt, so I peeled off Rob’s t-shirt, and continued dancing topless. Tom allowed the song to end, allowed another to play out, and at the beginning of the third asked me for my skirt. I danced naked to the rest of the third and the entirety of the fourth song before he finally asked me to take my position for the pubic inspection. By now I was wet again, turned on from the exposure and humiliation, and a little sweaty from the exertion of dancing. He asked me to show him how I performed my own self-examinations of my pubic area, but didn’t mention my obvious arousal. He stopped me several times, as I was getting close to orgasm, and asked me to change positions. Standing, with a leg on the couch. Kneeling and leaning back on one hand. Lying on the floor with my legs spread. Kneeling and leaning far forward. Finally he stopped me again. I was lying on my back, my feet flat on the floor, my legs spread wide. “You’re really turned on again, aren’t you?” I nodded, and couldn’t make eye contact. “If I let you cum, how many times will this be?” I didn’t know. “Eight!” called Sarah giddily. Everyone laughed. “Eight? Wow. Is that a record for you?” I looked at the ceiling, and shook my head. “What’s your record?” he asked. I blushed furiously. “Ten.” “Ten in one night?” I nodded. “Do you think you can beat that tonight?” he asked. I blushed harder, but nodded after only a couple of seconds. Failure to answer a question is just as bad a failing to do as you’re told. “Do you want to try to beat your record before I finish my inspection?” he asked. Another few second pause. I was really thinking, not stalling. Did I want to? It was hard to admit it. If I admitted it, it was worse than being made to do it. I knew I had to answer, but telling the truth would be hard. Oh, what the hell. They’ve watched me do it eight times already. I nodded. I still couldn’t look anywhere but the ceiling. Without waiting for instruction, I moved my hand to touch myself. Knowing that they were all watching, and knowing that I was going to do it three more times had me so incredibly excited I was already at the precipice. Less than five minutes later I was shuddering through my ninth orgasm of the night. I didn’t stop, didn’t let up, and only a minute or two later I heard Sarah laugh the word “TEN!” as I climaxed again. My eleventh orgasm was, however, proving evasive. I was so tired, so physically spent. I was still incredibly turned on, knowing that they were watching me. My whole hand was wet, and I could feel my moisture on my thighs and butt, and all over my pussy. Three minutes went by, then five. After about seven minutes Rob suggested I try a different position. He and Tom helped me up, and I turned around. I was now on my knees, which were tucked under my belly, resting my chest on the floor. I had my right hand under my body, between my legs and reaching back to caress my sex. My asshole and pussy were completely exposed to the room; my arousal and the constant stream of orgasms had my pussy spread wide, glistening with the juices of my excitement. This new position, exposing me as it did, pushed me closer to the elusive climax. Closer, but not quite there. After a few moments in this position, I felt a mild pressure; a finger entering my gaping pussy. Then I felt another finger, this one applying gentle pressure to my slick asshole. The intimate contact pushed me over the edge once more, and I came again. I had no idea who was touching me; whose finger was inside me. I had no idea who was touching my bare, exposed butt hole, but I knew everyone was watching. It was so much more than intimate. It was so incredibly personal. The eleventh orgasm spiraled into the twelfth. I was involuntarily pushing back against the pressure. My pussy was spasming, pulling the finger deeper inside me while my own hand pressed against my clit, moving of instinct rather than conscious motor control. My asshole was spasming, all the muscles in the area being interconnected. As my body pushed backwards against the pressure and the finger, instinctively seeking the source of the pleasure just as a moth is drawn to the flame, the relaxing and contracting of the muscles, the pressure, and the slickness of the juices on my skin and on the finger combined, and suddenly the finger was inside me. I had never been violated this way before. My shock quickly gave way to ecstasy, and although I was still locked in the throes of the twelfth orgasm of the night, I suddenly found myself thrust into number thirteen. The intensity was incredible. I cried out as my muscles locked, clamping tightly on the fingers inside me. My body was still pushing backward, straining toward the source of the pleasure. The fingers, weather of their own accord or due to a conscious decision by their owner, wiggled gently inside me. My orgasm continued. Maybe another one started; I have no way of knowing at this point. I was moaning and panting, trying to catch my breath while simultaneously grunting and whining in orgasmic delight. I was a base creature at that instant, intent solely on the pleasure, addicted to the endorphins and oblivious of human decorum. I was all consumed by the bliss of the moment, ignorant to all but the feelings. My body acted of its own accord, moving and writhing to maximize the pleasure from the external forces acting on it; my own hand and the hand of my friend. My breasts were pressed hard against the floor, the softness of the sheet laid under me feeling wonderful against my nipples as my body rocked. I can’t say how long my orgasm lasted. Probably close to three minutes before I collapsed onto my stomach. The fingers were still inside me as I changed position, slowly pulling my legs out from under me and stretching them out. They were cramped and stiff. Slowly the fingers withdrew. I found energy I didn’t know I had, and I was able to lift and turn my head. Tiffany was smiling down at me, her fingers slick and shiny with my juices. She was holding her hand as would a doctor before surgery, and I flushed with embarrassment as I thought about how my friends had just witnessed my virgin asshole be violated. There was a white noise in the background. My friends were all talking, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Tiffany kissed my butt, then rolled me over. She kissed my stomach, and then my lips. Softly and tenderly she kissed down to my neck, and then back to my lips again. my knees were bent and my legs were spread slightly, but I was too comfortable and too tired to move. I yawned and I stretched.  Then I fell asleep.  When I woke, it was almost an hour later. I was still naked on the floor, still flat on my back. Everyone was sitting on the couch or on chairs, just talking. The music was still playing. I was a weird, nude center piece to the room; a piece of human artwork. “You finally awake?” I grunted a reply. My mouth was dry. Sarah brought me a bottle of water. I drank half of it in a single draw. I looked around; my clothes were gone. “Where are my clothes? Can I get dressed?” My voice still sounded a bit hoarse. “You failed your last inspection.” Grinned Tom. “Your shirt was long enough to be a body-cover, so you technically aren’t allowed a bottom along with it. I can only give you back the shirt, but Rob already put it away.” I smiled. He had planned that. He had wanted to go last so he could fail me. He had asked Rob for a t-shirt so he had a reason to fail me. They would have discussed it, and no one would be willing to reinspect me if I wanted to dress in a different outfit. “That’s okay.” I said. “But I do want to get dressed before I go home.” “Tomorrow morning, after everyone wakes up, we can give you an inspection after your shower to be sure you’re fully compliant before we leave.” Tom offered. “Thank you.” I said. I finished my water bottle, then tested my legs. I was a little wobbly at first, but the nap had helped me. “And now that all you guys know how to give inspections, you can help Cheryl be sure that she’s following the school rules all summer.” Tom said to everyone else in the room. Frank, Justin and Curt exchanged smiles. I suddenly knew I’d be seeing a lot of them this summer. “Who wants to dance?” asked Tiffany, turning the music back up then pulling me toward the center of the room. “We’ll sit this one out,” answered Rob, smiling and sitting next to Tom, “but you go ahead, Cheryl.” “Is it true you’re allowed to touch her anywhere she’s not wearing clothes?” asked a grinning Tiffany, taking a seat next to Sarah and looking me up and down as I started dancing. “That’s the rule.” answered Tom, also smiling. I glanced at the clock as I danced alone. It was only 10:00, and my nipples were getting hard again. This was going to be a heck of a night. |
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