Sam Was In Trouble

Sam was in trouble.

I could tell: she was flushed and looked panicked. It wasn't like her - she was normally pretty calm and quiet, even when we had exams. I'd gotten to know her in halls in our first year at university, and when she'd suggested moving in together with our mutual friend Kayla, I'd jumped at the chance.

It'd been a great year so far. I'd really enjoyed my course - psychology - and although I didn't hang out with Kayla and Sam all the time, it was like they were a foundation for me. I had a few other circles of friends, and I got on better with everyone for having two really solid friends I could always rely on. It was constantly one of my favourite things to walk back into the lounge from town, finding Sam curled up with a book by the window, or Kayla planning a run or a hike at the table. I'd draw up a chair and look over the plan or just sit and read quietly or chat. It was peaceful. I

loved

it; we'd already talked about living together again next year, and I was doing my best to make sure it happened.

Nothing was ever perfect, but like any flat, we adapted to each other.

It meant not talking to Sam while she was having breakfast, but that she'd give you a special thank-you smile if you went out and bought her nice coffee.

It meant that if you heard Kayla when she crashed back into the flat after a big night out, you didn't go and say hi. You stayed put and didn't interrupt her with whoever she'd brought home. It meant buying new walking boots to go hiking with her, which wasn't so terrible.

And it meant helping Sam this time.

"Hey," I say to the slim bookish brunette I've become enormously fond of. "You ok?"

She sits down, not making eye contact, crossing her legs. She's in grey leggings, and I can't help but notice - again - what great legs she has.

"Sam?"

She looks up, taking a deep breath. Her hazel eyes are wide, and she looks close to tears.

"Ben," she says. "I need a favour. A really big favour."

I shrug. "Whatever you need. I'm not flush with cash though."

She laughs, a short, almost hysterical sound. "Is Kayla around?"

I shake my head. She's away for the weekend, staying with friends in London.

"Thank god," she says. "Because it's kind of embarrassing. No, it's definitely embarrassing. More than embarrassing."

She slaps her hand over her mouth to stop herself talking, then lowers it and doesn't look at me.

"Sam," I offer, looking at her. "Seriously. Whatever it is, I got you."

"Christ," she says, getting up and opening a bottle of wine. "Ben, if I tell you, you might not say that. In fact, you might not speak to me at all. We might never speak again."

"Hey!"

I catch her arm and spin her around. "Come on. It's me. I love you guys, ok?"

Then she actually does cry, one little tear running down her cheek.

"Alright," she says, pouring herself a glass of wine. "You want one?"

I nod. She takes a large swig, then sets it down on the table. I sit across from her and lean forwards, wondering what the hell has gotten my flatmate so rattled. Study stuff? A guy? I'm baffled; Sam's normally pretty drama-free.

"So," she says. "I got into a thing with some friends. We bet stuff, we did dares, we pushed boundaries. But I made a promise that I can't keep, and I need some help in the next twenty-four hours to keep it. Or I crash out."

I don't say anything. She'll tell me.

She takes another deep breath.

"It's sex stuff, Ben. I bet that I could learn hypnosis and get someone to do whatever I wanted for 24 hours. Only I lost a bet afterwards, and lost control of the person I'm supposed to hypnotise. And I couldn't learn hypnosis. It's not a thing."

"I want to be honest with you," she says, crying now but speaking clearly. "I didn't do this stuff because I was forced, or because I needed money. I did it because I love it. I love kink. I love exploring this stuff. I don't know if that makes me a slut, but I

want

to keep up with these guys. I love it. I'm sorry... if you think less of me for that."

I swallow, trying not to think about this too much. "Sam," I say gently. "If you or Kayla came back home and told me you'd accidentally killed someone, I'd be ordering a shovel and some tarpaulin before you'd finished speaking. You'd both do the same for me. Whatever it is, I'm game. Sex stuff? Nice and easy. Tell me more."

She laughs weakly, and briefly makes eye contact.

"Alright," she says. "But you'll judge me. I've got to hypnotise someone by tonight or tomorrow morning and they've got to walk naked all the way to the nudist beach. At the beach, they'll meet someone, and that person will take them to their house, where you'll have to do the cleaning and whatever else they say, until dinner time. Obviously, that should have been me. At dinner time, other people - including me - will arrive, and you have to eat as if you don't know you're naked. Then we play games, it gets more sexual and anything could happen. The hypnosis is supposed to wear off the following morning."

Christ.

"I dunno Sam," I say. "It sounds kind of fun. I can do that."

She shakes her head. "You're not serious," she says. "You're taking the piss. This is real."

"Oh, I'm real," I say. "What time do I do this walk?"

"Whenever you want," she says. "Earlier means fewer people, but longer doing chores in the buff. And two more things - you mustn't run. If you run at any point it's over. And if you refuse a command during the day or night, it'll be obvious you're not hypnotised, and it'll be the same."

"Anything else?"

"The person you meet on the beach - Hazel - must be addressed as 'Witch Queen' after she introduces herself, unless she specifies otherwise. If anyone asks you why you're doing it, you can't say it's a dare or refer to anyone else in the group."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

I don't want to seem glib, because I am nervous about this. Terrified, in fact. But it's Sam, she's in trouble... or sort of in trouble, and to be honest, there's a part of my brain that does kind of want this. Admittedly, I'd rather it be the evening and I'd rather be a bit drunk, but that feels like a bit of a cop-out. Fuck it, let's do this.

"Alright," I say. "I'm in."

She lunges forward and hugs me. "Thank you," she says. "Seriously, thank you. I don't know if you'll be speaking to me afterwards, but thank you."

I finish my wine. "I'll see you tomorrow at some stage, ok? And don't worry about anything. We'll be fine."

"The only thing I'll worry about is whether you'll be saying that in 24 hours' time."

I kind of wonder that too, but I don't say it.

"I'll head out around six, ok?"

She doesn't reply. I glance around as I'm opening the door to head to bed. She's sat, staring at her glass of wine with a thousand-yard stare. I can almost hear her anxiety.

I trust her, I tell myself. She's my friend. I trust her unconditionally.

I wonder whether I'll be saying that in 24 hours' time.

-

I don't sleep well, but I feel ok when I wake up the next morning. I mean, I feel sick with nerves, but I don't feel too tired. I shower, eat a quick breakfast and then take off my clothes.

It's weird. I wonder if I'm going to get arrested.

Shit. I could get arrested. Is it illegal to be naked in public? I don't think it is, but there'd definitely be questions. Oh god. What if someone I know sees me? Like a lecturer - or a friend? Oh god.

I walk down the stairs of our apartment, fully nude, clutching my keys and my phone. Should I have taken them with me, I wonder. I should have asked Sam.

I feel... exposed. Vulnerable. Like I really, really shouldn't be doing this.

I can't back out now.

I'm

terrified

. What if I throw up, right here?

I open the front door, taking a deep breath. It's quiet. We live in an apartment nominally in Hastings but since we're students, we live on the cheap outskirts and generally walk or cycle into town.

Thankfully, we live on the outskirts nearest the nudist beach.

I take another step, the door closes behind me and it's really real.

There's no-one around. It's quiet, and I'm incredibly thankful for that. The pavement is hard on my feet, the air cool on my skin. I feel... completely exposed, like if I heard anything, I should run and hide.

In fact, the urge to run is almost overwhelming, and I come near to throwing up as I restrain myself from breaking into even a modest jog.

Let's be honest: it's fucking incredible what a thin layer of cotton can do for your confidence and social acceptability. It's like a millimetre thick but completely changes how people act around you.

Sorry. I babble when I'm nervous and right now I'm basically shitting myself. I think my dick and balls have climbed back into my body.

There's houses on both sides of me. I can't see any lights on, but even though it's early, it's been light for ages and I can occasionally hear the sounds of people getting up and eating breakfast. I desperately hope no-one looks outside in the next two minutes.

Halfway down the street, there's a set of steps leading up to the cliffs. I could go around on the beach - where it'd be more acceptable to be nude, I think - but that'd mean going into town, which isn't what I want to do. There'd be more people, not to mention security cameras.

I'm more likely to meet dogwalkers this way, so either way, I lose. Last night I made a decision to choose the cliffs.

I hurry up the steps, taking care not to run. Out of breath, I eventually arrive on the grassy slope leading to the clifftop. I can already see a dogwalker in the distance, but I can head over to the right where there are gorse bushes that should hide me from view.

I glance back at the town; I can see curtains twitching as people get up, dress and start their Saturdays, going to the gym or whatever.

I'm super-aware of every sensation. I can feel every blade of grass against my feet, every pebble and rock.

I still feel sick.

But - miracle of miracles - I don't see anyone. I follow the track upwards, also realising that this means if anyone comes the other way, I can't hide. It's the most direct route and I could... in theory... get into the undergrowth, but it's brambles and nettles and fenced off with barbed wire. I'd get cut, and probably in awful places.

Then I arrive out onto the clifftop. Thank fuck. The view is actually kind of amazing: the sea stretches for as far as I can see. I stop and admire it for a moment, weirdly enjoying it. There's something about being naked in nature. It's kind of nice. Kind of... authentic.

I head off down the path, and that's when I bump into my first dogwalker.

It's an older woman, maybe in her fifties or sixties, walking a golden retriever. The dog bounds up to me, and I instinctively pet it, letting it jump up at me. Wait, what am I doing? I should go. I should go right now.

As I'm standing, I come face to face with her.

"Uh," I manage. "Sorry."

She smiles. "Don't worry dearie," she says. "It's a nice morning for it. And anyone Shep trusts, I don't mind."

I grin with relief. "Thanks."

"You have a good day now. Mind your feet."

I head on, giggling to myself. The path starts to head down, and I keep going, feeling slightly relieved.

Then I see two guys in the distance, and feel a spike of panic.

I hide behind a tree while they pass. They do, although they walk much too slowly for my liking, and they're looking around all over the place, which is a bit suspicious.

Eventually, they pass. I wait for a bit longer and they come back. Shit.

I wait. What's going on? Do they know about me?

No, that's paranoia. They can't. Right? Maybe it's something else.

Maybe they do. Maybe Hazel's got friends. Maybe there's something else to this.

They walk on.

This time, I risk it, coming out of the undergrowth and heading down the path towards the beach. It's not far now. I have to duck under a fence onto a hidden track to reach it, but pretty much everyone knows about this place.

Then it's a short way along a narrow gulley and I'm there.

Oh my god I made it. I walked like a mile completely naked.

Jesus Christ. I could cry with relief.

It's almost completely clear, and I take a moment to just admire the view. It's a rocky beach, but the tide is out, and there's plenty of room. I'm all alone and it's beautiful.

The morning is gorgeous, and for a few minutes I walk around, enjoying being nude and allowed to be nude. I feel the sand between my toes and try to avoid the sharper rocks.

I peer into a rock pool, spying a small crab.

There's a cough.

I turn.

There's a girl my age in a bikini sat behind a rock. She's grinning like the proverbial cat that got the cream.

"Hi," she says. "You made it. I'm Hazel."

"Witch Queen," I say, and she nods.

"That's me."

I wait, half expecting her to tell me to come with her to a waiting car or something. Christ. I'm naked in front of a stranger. The only thing that makes it better is that I know for a fact that she's into some kinky shit, and the chances are we're all going to be naked in the next twenty-four hours.

Still.

Fucking still. It's weird. You know when you open your exam grades, or pass your driving test, or kiss someone for the first time or lose your virginity, and there's that weird feeling like you've passed a milestone? But then you realise it's a one-directional line, and you can't go back to who you were before, what happened before?

This is like that. A feeling like a click in life. A sense of permanence.

"I'm Ben."

Then I realise she could ask me to walk back into town and I'd have to do it.

Fuck.

I'm not sure I could do that.

Now I'm worried. I don't think I completely thought this through.

"Let's get to know each other, Ben," Hazel says, gesturing to a rock nearby. "Sit."

I sit.

"Tell me, did you really walk here completely naked? Did you see anyone? Did anyone see you?"

"I walked out of my flat and came down here totally nude, Witch Queen," I admit. "I saw plenty of people, but only one person saw me. We had a chat."

"You 'had a chat'?"

"We had a chat."

She laughs. "This fucking town," she says. "This fucking town."

I wait.

"I want to know everything about you," she says. "How on earth did Sam manage to find someone she could hypnotise, and that was willing to do anything for her? What does she have on you?"

"She asked, Witch Queen," I say, truthfully.

"She asked? She asked you to walk through town naked, to put yourself at the disposal of a stranger and do anything they ask for 24 hours? And you did it? Why?"

"I... I... enjoy it, Witch Queen."

She grins. "Very nice."

"Do you have any concerns about the rest of the day?"

"No, Witch Queen."

"Alright," she says. "Well, we should hang out a bit and enjoy the beach. Tell me about times when you've been naked for a while before. Outside of sex, of course."

"Studland, Witch Queen," I admit. "I went to visit a friend at Bournemouth uni last year, and we went out and got the little ferry thing to explore Studland nature reserve. We basically came across the naturist beach by accident and there was this weird moment and then we were both stripping as fast as we could. I don't think I've ever laughed so much, but once we got used to it, it was actually really relaxing. And we had some really nice chats with other naturists. They're friendly."

"And that's why you were so keen to come here," Hazel muses.

"I suppose so, Witch Queen," I admit.

She frowns. "It was rhetorical, but good of you to admit it. Let's go from theory to practice, since you were so keen. I was going to be gentler, but... well, I'm bored of talk... for now."

I wait. She giggles, then gives me a funny look.

"You know, Ben, I'm going to confide in you since it doesn't matter what the fuck I say. In fact, that could make you a hell of a good therapist in future. Maybe there's business idea there? I'm used to playing with people who have a mind of their own. Pretty much everyone I know would be twitching by now, looking around, talking back or whatever. Maybe I've just never had a good sub, but this... this I like."

She waits for another twenty seconds or so then giggles again, pointing over to the side of the beach where I'd come in. "Alright. There's an old couple over there. Go over, introduce yourself and ask for some sunscreen."

Without saying a word, I turn and start walking exactly where she's pointing. I... I normally spend so long overthinking everything that this is actually kind of relaxing.

She's right - there's two older people there, a man and a woman, lying on towels, propped up on a large, smooth rock. I reckon they're in their early sixties.

"Morning," I call, holding up a hand in greeting. "I don't suppose you've got any spare sunscreen, do you? I didn't quite finish and need a little on my face."

The guy frowns at me but his expression softens as I talk, and the woman smiles and roots around in her bag. I can't help but look and see that their genitals are almost entirely hidden by pubic hair.

"As long as it's just your face," the woman laughs, not making eye contact. I feel my skin heating up, and it's not the sun. She holds out a small tube, and I squeeze a little onto my fingers and rub it onto my face, taking care to avoid my eyes.

"Thank you," I say, handing it back to her. "I'm Ben, by the way."

"Mary," the woman says. "This is my husband, Joe."

"Nice to meet you guys. You down here often?"

"When it's warm," Mary says, laughing. "I'm glad to see that naturism isn't dead. Young people seem to think nudity means sex. It's the internet, you know."

I nod. "Yeah, it kind of is. But there's some good stuff on it too."

"That's true. You have a nice time now, ok?"

"You too. Thanks for the sunscreen."

With a wave, I head back across the beach to Hazel. That was kind of nice.

She insists on knowing every nuance of the conversation, laughing at most of it.

"They were kind of cute, Witch Queen," I finish, and she nods.

"Very wholesome."

I can't tell if she's poking fun at me or not, but I guess it doesn't matter.

"Have you ever seen your flatmates completely naked, Ben? Either of them?"

"No, Witch Queen."

"Never fucked them?"

"No, Witch Queen."

"What's the closest to naked you've seen them?"

The first one's easy.

"Witch Queen, I saw Kayla when we were in Fresher's Week this year. I came back late from a night out to find Kayla and a guy making out in the hallway. She was in a skirt and her bra; he already had his top off."

Hazel laughs. "And? What happened?"

"She squealed and they ran into her room, Witch Queen. She couldn't stop apologising the next day, but I think she'd also enjoyed it."

"Alright alright, you can stop with the Witch Queen thing now," she says. "It's like those conversations where someone's trying to build rapport by constantly repeating your name. And Sam?"

I feel bad about this one. "Two weeks ago. I was studying late to finish an essay and was going to the kitchen to get some water. I was about to turn the lights on in the lounge when I saw her standing, facing the back window with headphones on. She was only wearing a pair of knickers."

I swallow. It'd been incredibly hot, and one of the reasons why I've been noticing her body more since. I couldn't get her slim legs and ass out of my head, and I'd found myself wanting to see all of her, wanting her to turn around, but I... I couldn't. I'm glad I didn't. I think.

I'd been having thoughts about her since, which I've been doing my best to banish, but now...

Shit. I'm in trouble, aren't I?

"I stared for a moment, then went and got the water from the bathroom instead."

Hazel laughs uproariously at that. "Oh Ben," she says. "That was one of our dares. She had no idea if she'd been seen or not, but she thought probably not, since neither of you had said anything, but she knew she'd been seen from the front by a couple of guys waiting at a bus stop. She'd enjoyed it a lot though, even if it'd been a bit humiliating. Or because of, should I say."