I was really upset on my first day at the College when my dorm preceptor told me I couldn’t wear underwear under my dress. I asked her how she even knew I was wearing underwear. She laughed and said she had been walking up the stairs behind me.
This really shocked me! All these years, I had been walking up the stairs with little regard for whoever might have been following me, and they could see up my dress?! I asked her why the College doesn’t allow girls to wear underwear, and she explained it was so girls would wear longer dresses.
But I don’t have any longer dresses than this one, I told her. She laughed, and I noticed she was wearing an even shorter dress than mine. It’s okay, honey, she said, patting my butt. Now, when people look up your dress, all they’ll see is you.
Honestly, that didn’t make me feel any better.
But I did start looking around at the other girls, and their really pretty little dresses. The other freshmen were all wearing pretty decent dresses, but the upper class girls like my preceptor were wearing really short dresses. One day I asked her why girls wear such short dresses. She answered my question with a question.
Have you ever been inspected?
Of course, I told her. It was no big deal. I just took off my dress, and showed the Inspector that I wasn’t wearing any underwear, and he was satisfied.
That’s all? She seemed surprised.
Sure, I told her. I was a little embarrassed afterwards, because I feel more comfortable wearing a dress to class, but my teacher and classmates were very understanding.
Wait, she said. What?
They were understanding. My pussy was a bit sore, too, but often one of my classmates would rub it for me, and that made it feel better.
Wait, wait, hold on now! Why was your pussy sore?
It’s a little embarrassing, to tell you the truth. When I was inspected, the nice man told me I didn’t have to take off my dress, so I was happy to just raise my arms and let him feel between my legs. A lot of people gathered to watch, and some of them helped the Inspector check to make sure I was being a good girl. To be honest, it was a little exciting to have all those people checking so closely. When it was all over, the inspector thanked me for being so cooperative, and said he would just hang onto my dress. That’s normal, he said.
And your pussy? Why was it sore?
Oh, just from the inspection, that’s all. And from getting fucked afterwards. I laughed when I told her this because I was a little embarrassed. It seems I got a little excited, and that’s against the rules. No big deal.
How many people fucked you?
Just one. I lied — I didn’t want my preceptor to think I was a slut or anything. He was a nice boy, I told her.
Well that’s exactly why so many girls wear short dresses, or just tops and no dress at all, she explained. You see, it’s common to lose your dress or even to be raped as you were, each time you’re inspected. Admit it, you were a little annoyed at having to show up with a sore pussy and no clothes to your class, weren’t you?
Sure, I laughed. I was a little annoyed by that. But also I was happy so many people wanted to make me feel better. One boy in the class was also naked, and I wanted to sit next to him, because I felt a kind of kindred spirit with him — two naked people in a classroom full of boys and girls, you know. But there wasn’t any seat next to him. He was so sweet, though. He let me sit on his lap. I told him I didn’t want to hurt him, especially because he had an erection at the time. I covered my face when I told my preceptor this part of the story, because I was so embarrassed by what a good solution the boy had to this supposed “problem” — he just inserted his penis into my vagina, and the whole problem was solved!
Did you like that?
Sure, for a while. He was very sweet, massaging me all over, especially my breasts, and all over my pussy. Then he hugged me really tight and pushed his penis into me as far as it would go. That was really exciting. It felt good to tighten my vagina around it, and use it to push back.
Did you cum?
I could feel myself blushing. I covered my face. A few times, I told her.
Well, it sounds like you had a pretty nice experience being inspected, even though you were forced to go stark naked and you were raped twice.
I would call it r–
She interrupted me. But next time it might not go so well for you, and a lot of girls would prefer not to be inspected.
I can understand that, I said. So then, how can I avoid being inspected?
If you wear shorter dresses, then you’re much less likely to be inspected.
With no underwear?
She laughed. Of course, silly! The whole idea is for the inspectors to see you’re following the dress code.
I laughed for having been so naive. Finally I understood why so many girls wore such short dresses. I thought back to the long dress I had been wearing with my preceptor following me up the stairs. She could see up my dress. So why not wear a short dress? People could see up a short or long dress, and a short dress is better because I won’t be inspected as often, and so I’ll be less likely to have to go naked.
But being forced to attend class in the nude wasn’t all bad, I said.
She countered by asking me if I wouldn’t be happier to wear a dress? I could still sit on a boy’s lap, she reminded me. Here, let me fix your dress. With a pair of scissors, she neatly snipped a good four or five inches off the bottom. I gave her a big kiss in thanks.
Now, I’m much happier. Sure, to the boy following me up the stairs, I know you can see up my dress. But you could see up a longer dress, too. You’ve been looking up girls’ dresses since the beginning of time, and it hasn’t hurt us. Before College, that bothered me. I’m okay with it, now.