Friday Night Interlude:
Our Girls Talk Things Over.
The ten girls met in Donna and Chrysta’s dorm room after dinner. It had been a busy week. Catching up with schoolwork, after missing all of Monday was a real chore. But, good students that they were, the backlog was cleared.
Laundry was piled up. Sounded bad. The reality was that all ten of them together could not fill a washer for even one good load. A few tee-shirts, some towels, some barely there panties (mostly Donna’s). Two or three extra shortie baby doll pajama tops (Chrysta’s). She seldom bothered with the matching panty bottoms. One of the others wound up wearing those. Toss in the odd micro mini skirt and that was all she wrote.
Their greatest worry this week was avoiding the Code Inspectors. Careful compliance with the Code, swiftly removing what little cover the girls allowed themselves when required by the authorities, staying in groups, and sitting oh so ladylike in the cafeteria kept them under the radar.
Thus, the weekend arrived with all the girls hale and hearty. As usual, all ten girls were naked. Not a big deal among girls in general, not an issue at all in this room. They were quite comfortable. The room was packed to the max. Ten active young girls, piled around a small dorm room, spelled was a formula for disaster, clothing-wise.
Why run up the fashion budget when there are acceptable alternatives? No one to impress there. Nudity in the dorm was considered normal when it was considered at all. These girls were much more interested in the real things underneath the fashion façade covering the girls up.
No wonder they all loved going to university here. The strict dress code allowed them to learn to thrive within a set of rules and let them indulge a tiny exhibitionistic tendency, guilt free.
Now they had to decide how to respond to their trepidations concerning the video record of the tug ‘o war last Monday.
Several of the girls had appeared in campus publications naked or nearly so. Melissa was in the College catalog, pressed against a widow being consensually raped. Donna and Chrysta had public sex in a nightclub, during a trial, and on TV. They were not unique. Except for Mika and Beth, all of the girls had been fucked in public.
But all of those occasions were under the accepted auspices of the University or in situations where the risk was worth the reward. In every instance, the girls while embarrassed, were not totally shocked at the outcome. Never were they harmed and were able to gain a life lesson from the experience. That is what college was about: personal growth. This was the norm for girls here at Central University.
But this particular tape represented a possible future threat to their professional careers if it should fall into the wrong hands.
Certain members of the faculty were not above suspicion..
The girls could testify that some of the professors pushed and changed the dress code rules arbitrarily. Sometimes they did it as unfair punishment, resulting in surprise rapes. The gym teachers seemed to take a fiendish delight. The girls’ coach would decide that the proper gym suit consisted of one item only. Then had the girls play team sports as “shirts vs. skins”, teams chosen at random. Guess what happened to the girls wearing only shirts who made the skins team. They played naked. On the athletic field. With the boys. This always seemed to be a set-up for extreme application of the consensual rape rule.
And if the girls’ coach would burn your uniform if she determined that you weren’t trying hard enough in class. You would be forced to finish out the day naked. Since any exposed flesh could be fondled at any time, a naked girl might find herself unwillingly aroused and being fucked on a cafeteria table at rush hour. And anywhere else, repeatedly, all day.
Frequent oral pop-quizzes where wrong answers required the removal of an item of clothing. The Code made it unlikely that a girl could afford to be wrong more that twice before she had nothing to wear but her birthday suit. The third bad answer usually resulted in some sort of sexual penalty or forfeiture of the lost clothes. More consensual rapes became a prominent part of that girl’s immediate future.
Days like that made it difficult to study. This was not good for a serious girl trying to keep her GPA up.
That the video might be abused was not out of the question. The only real solution was to gain absolute control of the video. But how?
Melissa had a brainstorm. Thinking outside the box, she suggested that they sneak into the volleyball gym and appropriate the video, sabotage the camera so that it looked like the device was damaged prior to the Monday session, and substitute a blank tape.
The other nine cuties squealed in approval. This would be a grand adventure. Jen insisted that they dress in black towels, and call it the Great Commando Commando Raid and it had to happen tonight after most of the other students were asleep.
Nikki said that they needed a name for the team. Ashley proposed “The Ten MuskeTits.” Nikki did the math and answered that it was actually 20. The nine tickle monsters attacked her, insisting that it was too late for arithmetic jokes.
The tension relieved, the girls went about the business of getting in the correct mood for the raid. Already in a tickle heap with a few hours to spare, the girls relaxed each other many times. It was good to be a pretty girl with pretty, playful friends. All MuskeTits present and accounted for
The fateful hour arrived at last. The campus was abnormally quiet for a Friday. The girls were decked out in their black commando towels, going commando. Their uniform was secured by one small non-reflective safety pin.
Ninja Mika insisted that they needed camo paint for their faces. Beth had some body paint but it was white and pink. Not acceptable for clandestine operations as anyone who has ever seen a Chuck Norris movie knows.
Again, Brainstorm Melissa came to the rescue. There was an extra large container of every girl’s favorite, Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup, in her room. She ran across the hall on her supply acquisition mission. Melissa came back, mission completed.
The girls proceeded to coat their exposed body parts with the chocolate disguise. That was an adventure in itself. This commando business sure is fun. Too soon, it was time to move out.
Ten towel-clad, chocolate-coated girls sneaking across campus would have been a memorable sight if anyone had noticed. By some miracle of fate, they made it to the goal unseen. The first obstacle arose when they found the door locked. But the transom was cracked open. Great. So far, so good.
Donna and Jen boosted Mika up where she could squeeze through and drop to the floor. If you have ever tried to pick up a chocolate covered cute little pixie, you see their problem. A firm grip was nearly impossible. With much giggling, the two girl operatives got Ninja Mika up and over. Unavoidably, traces of chocolate were left on the transom. So, Crysta and Becca took a turn at the door holding Beth up so she could use Audrey’s “uniform” to wipe away the evidence. In the criminal underworld, as in the covert ops, neatness counts.
Mika opened the door after making sure the lights were out, Audrey rewrapped her chocolaty towel and the 10 MuskeTits infiltrated the target building.
They had assumed correctly that the equipment would still be in place. They got lucky. Mr. Wilson and Ms Martin had been too tired and too distracted to break down the scene after class last Friday. Events were playing into their hands perfectly.
Becca, the resident tech babe, popped open the camera, snatched out the mini cassette and pushed the record head slightly out of alignment. Ashley removed the zip lock baggie from its hiding place and took out the blank tape. Becca gave her the original, Ashley put it in the baggie and re-pinned it to the inside of her towel. Step one, check.
Putting in the blank, Becca activated the device and panned the group. After rewinding the tape, they were pleased that there was no playback. Sabotage, check.
The 10 MuskeTits made sure the camera was pointed at the chair, wiped away any chocolate fingerprints, and did their exit strategy thing. The door locked behind them. They slinked into the darkest shadows. The most fun part of the operation was camo removal. Being the sensible girls they were, the most expedient method appeared to be the tried and true oral method. Ten girls, as one, stripped their towels and proceeded to lick each other clean. The cleaner they got, the longer it took. This necessary stage of the plan took most of the remaining night.
As dawn was breaking, ten black towel clad, very happy young girls marched in formation to Team HQ, mission successful.
Nowhere but Central University would such a scene seem almost ordinary. Any Saturday morning observer was probably going home after his or her own late night adventure. Early risers might notice but would think that the 10 MuskeTits were a campus club.
The girls spoke to no one until they encountered Lisa in the dorm lobby. She innocently asked where they spent the night and why were they all dressed in black towels.
Donna told her that the girls had visited a new, formal-dress night club located in a remote part of New Town, hence the black towels. It was After Six after all. They wound up dancing the night away but it was unlikely that they would return because the drinks were so expensive. The cover charge, plus a two-drink minimum, was too steep for poor little college girls.
Lisa might have bought the exaggeration but her keen nose detected the combined aromas of excited girl and chocolate. Lisa could not figure out what kind of club would have that effect.
Lisa, as she wistfully watched them walk away, wished that peanut butter had been involved in whatever they had been up to last night. Those ten sweeties would have smelled like girl-flavored Reese’s Cups, her favorite candy.
She could imagine how much fun it would be to unwrap them.