“Ice-cold showers first thing in the morning.” Penny shuddered. “No wonder nudists are asexual.”
“Yes. Anyway, from six-thirty to seven-thirty we have breakfast. Wheat germ, carrot juice and prunes. The other meals are variations of this. All our foods are health foods. Nudists are vegetarians. Even the ‘meat loaf’ we have twice a week is made from a soybean derivative.”
“You mean you start off the day without coffee?”
“Coffee is a stimulant. No stimulants are allowed. Sometimes for dinner we get hot barley soup. But that’s the only hot liquid. All the others are served without icing or heuting. It’s supposed to be healthier to drink fluids at their natural temperature.”
“Not even one cube to perk up the Scotch?”
“No liquor allowed, of course. But you’re being facetious,” Cherry sniffed.
“Sorry. Go on.”
“Okay. After breakfast, from seven-thirty to nine-thirty, we play volleyball. The men against the women. That’s where I first noticed Malcolm — playing volleyball. He’d noticed me first. That was obvious, because when he tripped, the way he got stuck in the mud was a giveaway. That’s why they put him on probation. He’d been seen going into the men’s outhouse only a few minutes before, so they knew it wasn’t—well, you understand.”
“I do,” Penny assured her. “Keep going. What happens after volleyball?”
“There’s a two-hour lecture on sun—worship. That’s compulsory too. Everybody has to attend. Then, for the next hour, until twelve-thirty, we lie out in the sun in rows on this big field. You can get excused from this if you’re sunburned, but if you do they assign you to some form of nature communion like learning birdcalls, or studying rocks. After this comes immersion.”
“Immersion?”
“There’s a natural stream on the property. It comes from underground and so it’s unusually cold. Before lunch everybody has to immerse themselves in it for half an hour,” Cherry explained. “After lunch, from two to three, we all go to the bathroom.”
“Just like that‘? On schedule? I mean, how can you-—?”
“Regularity is a very important part of nudism at Buffmuff. Exceptions may be made for the elimination of fluids, but bodily wastes must be disposed of on schedule. We call it the ‘Shitting Hour.’ But not where the staff can hear us.”
“I can see why,” Penny told her.
“At three there’s archery instruction. At four we have another hour of exercises. At five there’s another immersion. From six to seven we have dinner. From seven to nine we’re allowed to socialize. At nine we have to be in bed and Lights Out is at nine-thirty. That’s the regimen, and as I said, it’s strictly enforced.”
“Right down to the essentials,” Penny granted. “I can see that.”
“Yes. Now, as to the rules. No fraternization among unmarried people of the opposite sex. That’s primary, of course. No clothes allowed. Nobody allowed to leave the premises. No sexual outlets of any kind, and that specifically includes masturbation. No food allowed to be brought in, or stashed away. You’re not allowed to take any food from the dining tables for later. You eat on schedule, and that’s the only time you eat.” Cherry sighed. “I guess Malcolm and I broke almost all of those rules. Now if we can’t sneak back in, we’ll be forced to leave in disgrace. They’ll cashier us out in front of the whole camp. Everybody lined up while they take away our suntan lotion and hang a symbolic fig leaf over our organs. Oh, it’s just awful!”
“How did you ever get into this mess?” Penny wondered.
“After that day on the volley-ball court, I continued to notice Malcolm and he continued to notice me. Our eyes would meet furtively. I’d see him looking at my body. I’d catch myself looking at his. For a long time, we didn’t exchange a word, but we communicated all the same. Then, one day, he managed to whisper to me.”
“What did he whisper?”
“He told me he was mad for me. He told me he kept dreaming about me—with clothes on. That did it. The bit about the clothes, I mean. It was the most erotic thing any man had ever said to me. Immediately, I had this vision of Malcolm with his jockey shorts bulging, and my breasts began to tingle. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t suppress my desire.”
“Well, that’s only human,” Penny soothed her.
“Not in Buffmuff’s world it isn’t. I knew we were playing with fire. But I couldn’t stop myself. I let Malcolm whisper to me a lot of times after that. Then one day we arranged to meet secretly.”
“With such a strict routine, that couldn’t have been too easy to manage,” Penny realized.
“It wasn’t. There was only one way. We each got someone to answer the roll call for us during the Shitting Hour, and we met in the woods between the two outhouses. Later it was torture, but it was worth it.”
“Torture? What do you mean?”
“When you’re used to going every day at the same time—well, it was torment until the next day. But once we knew we could do it, we got our bodies on a once-every-two-days schedule, and it was easier after that. We met frequently. But the time was so short, and it was frustrating as well as dangerous. That’s why we decided we had to have a whole day to ourselves. So we planned this picnic.”
“Yes, I noticed that you had food and things.”
“It wasn’t easy. The first thing was that Malcolm smuggled a letter out to a friend. This fellow hid the clothes for us and laid down the trail of bread crumbs from where he hid them to the camp. He just did that this morning.”
“But why were the clothes so necessary?”
“If we were going to do it, we were going all the way. We wanted it to be a veritable orgy. The clothes were to make it as sexy as possible. Then, about a week ago, we both began eating less, and sneaking food out of the Mess Hall and hiding it in our trysting place between the two outhouses. I took the optional basket weaving course and wove a basket so we’d have something to carry the food. It wasn’t so bad skimping to steal the food. It didn’t matter that we were eating less, because on our once-every-two-days schedule, we were eliminating less anyway.”
“I can see where it would balance out,” Penny said. “Go on.”
“Well, today we arranged to have friends answer all the various roll calls for us. And right after the first shower this morning we sneaked off and met. Then came the most difficult part of all. We had to get past the dogs and through the barbed wire fence.”
“Barbed wire fence? Dogs? The place sounds like a concentration camp,” Penny decided. “Do they actually hold you prisoner there?”
“Of course not. The fence and the dogs are to keep intruders out, not to keep us in,” Cherry explained. “We’re in on the honor system. If we sneak out, we break the Code and if we’re caught, we’re thrown out. That’s all. But we didn’t want to get caught. And so we had to avoid the dogs and get through the fence without being seen. Malcolm was real smart about that. He discovered that the dogs were fed at the same time as the campers had their breakfast. So we got through the fence without being seen, and after that it was Paradise. Such freedom! Skipping through the woods together, playing hookey from volleyball, wading in brooks, missing sun worship, following the bread crumbs over hill and dale, avoiding immersion. Oh, it’s been worth it! I don’t care what happens!”
“Well, I do!” Malcolm had regained consciousness. “My family’s been nudists for three generations. If I get drummed out of Buffmuff, it will break my father’s heart. We’ve got to get back in without being detected.”