Desperate to scrub the lingering mental image of Tyler casually polishing his semi and Jimbob’s tragic little tugs from his brain, Jake did what any self-respecting, thoroughly traumatised young man would do.
He went looking for more naked girls.
It was, he told himself with the solemnity of a monk entering a sacred temple, purely for mental health reasons.
Exposure therapy.
The more bare flesh he subjected himself to, the less room there would be in his poor, overworked mind for the horrifying sight of his friends treating their own genitalia like stress toys on a public bench.
Thus, Jake embarked upon a sacred pilgrimage through the sun-drenched grounds of the academy, eyes wide, soul slightly singed, and trousers conspicuously absent.
He first came upon the Nude Swimming & Aquatic Aerobics class.
A dozen glistening young women were cutting through the water with synchronised grace, their breasts bouncing in perfect rhythm with every stroke.
Water cascaded down their bare bodies in ways that would have made even the most stoic statue reconsider its life choices.
One particularly enthusiastic girl executed a perfect dive, her bare arse flashing above the surface like a lewd neon sign reading “Welcome to No Uniform Day.”
Civilisation, Jake thought faintly, is a fragile thing.
Next was the Oiled Competitive Wrestling elective.
Jake stopped dead in his tracks.
A ring full of naked, gloriously oiled female athletes were grappling with each other in the most indecently slippery fashion imaginable.
Limbs tangled.
Breasts slid against breasts.
The wet schlick-schlick sounds and breathless grunts filled the air as one girl pinned another to the mat with a triumphant moan.
Sweet merciful gods, Jake thought, they’re really committing to the bit.
Further along he discovered Naked Yoga & Flexibility Training, where several girls were folded into positions that made Jake’s brain blue-screen for the third time that day.
One particularly flexible redhead had her legs behind her head in a way that defied both anatomy and several local public decency laws.
He also spotted Life Drawing & Anatomy Appreciation (which was really just an excuse to stare openly), Nude Debate Club (where arguments somehow became far more passionate when conducted without pants), and Advanced Physical Education: Endurance & Stamina Training, which appeared to involve a great many energetic jumping jacks and even more jiggling.
Jake stood there, half-hard, eyes glazing over in a strange mix of awe and exhaustion.
It seems our athletes are training harder, he thought, almost reverently, and our students are studying harder now that they’re in the nude.
This day is genuinely beneficial.
Scientifically proven.
Peer-reviewed.
Absolutely not just my penis talking.
He also couldn’t help but notice something else.
It’s about fifty-fifty.
Some sport neat little landing strips, others are smooth as polished marble, and some maintain full, wild bushes like they’re making a defiant political statement against the tyranny of razors.
He tilted his head, genuinely curious for a moment.
I wonder if that helps with studying at all.
Does a shaved pussy improve focus?
Is there a correlation between pubic hair density and exam scores?
This feels like something that should be properly researched.
For science, of course.
For the first time since that morning, a small, dangerous, and slightly unhinged smile crept onto his face.
Maybe No Uniform Day wasn’t complete insanity after all.
Maybe it was just extremely efficient.
Jake continued his wandering pilgrimage, still trying—and mostly failing—to maintain a shred of academic detachment, when he turned a corner near the shaded courtyard benches and stumbled headlong into a fresh circle of absurdity.
A small group of guys were huddled together, all of them completely, vulnerably naked, save for the oversized waifu pillows they clutched like pathetic security blankets.
Before Jake could quietly retreat into the shadows, the familiar gang of girls appeared like a storm of bare skin and bad intentions.
Liora, Sienna, Mira, and several of their associates strutted up—all of them utterly, brazenly naked.
Liora’s massive, heavy breasts bounced with every aggressive step, the stark, crisp tan lines on her pale skin acting like a frame that made the dark, soft contrast of her pubic hair and breasts stand out with obscene clarity.
Sienna’s athletic body glistened with sweat, her firm, rounded ass flexing as she moved, while Mira’s petite, curvy frame jiggled with every purposeful stride.
“What the fuck is this shit?!” Liora snarled, snatching the pillow out of the first boy’s hands.
The boy looked up, pale with panic.
“I…
I’m not comfortable being naked without my girl…”
Sienna barked a mocking laugh, her own firm breasts bouncing violently.
She lunged forward, kicking the guy’s shin hard enough to make him yelp.
“Your girl?!
That’s a fucking printed piece of fabric, you pathetic virgin!”
Mira stepped forward, her perky breasts swaying as she slapped the pillow out of another boy’s arms, grinding her heel into the polyester face.
“Look at these sad fucks, hugging their 2D bitches because they can’t handle real pussy!”
One of the other girls grabbed a third boy by the hair and yanked his head back, her naked tits pressing firmly against his shoulder as she hawked a thick, glistening glob of spit right onto his face.
Liora smirked, a cruel, predatory expression, and deliberately spat onto the first boy’s soft, shivering cock.
The spit landed with a wet, heavy splat, causing the boy to flinch.
“Look at that sad little thing,” Liora mocked, kicking his thigh so her own heavy breasts bounced again. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“No wonder you need a pillow.
That dick is useless.”
Sienna joined in, spitting onto another boy’s flaccid genitals before kicking his leg.
“Tiny fucking pricks.
Real men get hard when they see naked girls, but you lot just shrivel up like worms.”
The girls continued their assault, their movements a rhythmic, chaotic display of violence.
The bright afternoon sun beat down on them, turning their pale, untanned skin into a glowing, almost blinding contrast against the deep, sharp bronze of their tan lines.
Those lines acted like a map, perfectly framing the heavy sway of their tits, the flex of their glutes, and the soft, dark mystery between their thighs, making every bounce and kick feel jarringly, obscenely erotic in the middle of such cold-blooded brutality.
Jake, hidden behind a thick stone pillar, watched the entire savage takedown.
His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.
The girls were merciless—spitting on faces, kicking thighs, and forcing the boys to endure their beautiful, naked dominance.
It was humiliating.
It was degrading.
It was undeniably cruel.
And yet…
A dark, shameful heat bloomed deep in Jake’s stomach.
His cock twitched and hardened against his bare thigh, straining with a painful urgency as he watched Liora lean over and spit onto a boy’s limp anatomy, her massive breasts swaying in a hypnotic rhythm.
Fuck… why does this look so hot?
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the raw, unrestrained dominance.
The juxtaposition of their soft, feminine curves and their jagged cruelty hit him like a physical blow.
I can’t just stand here and let this happen to him…
Jake’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the stone of the pillar.
His lungs burned with the sudden, sharp oxygen-debt of adrenaline.
The injustice of it—the way they were physically dominating that boy, the way they were making him their literal playground—it was too much.
He swallowed hard, his face burning with a volatile mix of embarrassment and overwhelming arousal.
He felt like he was losing his mind, trapped in a reality that played by rules he was only just beginning to realize he had been dreaming of all along.
…I need it to happen to me.