National Nude Daisy

I spray cleaner over the table and start wiping. The thin black shirt rides up, letting the cold metal kiss the strip of exposed skin. I gasp, and my stomach flinches away, but settles against the cool surface. My five-foot-nothing frame can barely reach into the corners, so I rise onto my toes and stretch, raising my hips above the table's edge, and almost folding myself in half.

Perfect.

Gives the people milling about behind me an exaggerated view of my lack-of-ass.

The last customer is dawdling on his way out, and Sam's work smile twitches on her face as she inches the door closed on the unwanted conversation.

I don't share her enthusiasm.

Today went by in a flash, and tomorrow edges ever closer.

National Nude Day.

The one day of the year public nudity is completely legal, instead of technically legal.

What in all the gods' names did I agree to?

"You're off tomorrow, right?" Sam asks, placing a tray on the table next to mine.

My breath stalls. "Yup," I say, trying to act casual. "Going to a festival in the city with my besties."

A fucking nudist festival I am so not ready for, and definitely not ready for any of my colleagues to know. Can you imagine if they found out? Gods, that would be mortifying.

"Sounds fun, I'm jelly."

I can hear chatter from the kitchen, so I move to the table I've been saving. Glancing to make sure Sam isn't watching, I pop the top button of my shirt open and bend over the table. I angle myself toward the kitchen door, pretending I'm not watching it. Pretending I'm not deliberately showing what little cleavage I have, but... Jamie will come out soon.

I'm not a shameless flirt, but I don't know how else to get him to notice me. All I have are these small moments, and even smaller hopes. 'Good morning'. 'See you tomorrow'. That's it. That's all I have.

The door opens, and I freeze.

Breath held.

Tiny chest puffed.

Feeling like an idiot.

The thought of him stealing glances at me, or just noticing me at all, makes me quiver. I can already feel my nips drilling through my bra.

He just strolls out like it's nothing, shaking his hair like a damn shampoo model. My teeth find my lip, and my damn heart flutters like a hummingbird.

"Night," he says, waving. "See you tomorrow, Daisy."

"See you good morning," I blurt out.

My head slams against the table.

Crash. Burn.

"See you good morning?" I mutter. "What the fuck, Daisy. What. The. Fuck."

Sam laughs. "That was soo smooth, Dais."

"Shut Up," I say, throwing the rag at her.

I've had this stupid crush on Jamie since I started working here. He's so sweet, and so very pretty. The way his hair falls down when he takes his hairnet off ties my stomach into knots.

On my first day, I forgot my lunch and my purse. He literally made me a meal, and even paid for it. I almost cried and decided right then that he would be my husband... boyfriend... we'll kiss one day?

I sigh.

Maybe our hands will brush together at some point? But, since it's a year later and I still haven't said a full sentence to him... Outlook is bleak.

John, the manager, walks out of the office and looks at us. "Daisy, you're opening tomorrow, right?"

"Uh, no? I booked the day off, remember?" I ask.

"Oh yeah, right," he says, rubbing his bald spot. "Sorry, losing track of everything as per."

"We'd be worried about you if you weren't, boss," I say, picking the tray up and walking into the Jamie-less kitchen.

He laughs nervously. "Doing anything nice?"

"She's going to a festival in the city," Sam answers for me. "I think it's a code for something, because I hadn't heard of anything."

Good. The last thing I need is Sam running her mouth about it. She's a sweet girl, but a gold medal winning gossip. If she knew, it would be global news within a week.

Absolutely not.

Hiding in the kitchen, my hands shake as I wash the cups. My heart is literally vibrating. How did I let Eliza talk me into this? Why? That girl is too damn convincing for her own good.

For my own good.

Naked. In public.

A chill runs down my spine, and I grasp the sink to steady myself.

It'll be fine.

I'll be fine.

My objectively gorgeous friends will be with me, so no one will even notice me at all.

Is that better, or worse?

I don't know.

Drying my hands, I walk back through the cafe in a daze. Offering a small, polite smile to John as he holds the door open for me. The streets are full of people. Rush hour in the centre of a massive city. I hate crowds so much. Eclipsed by smartphone screens, I either dart out of the way or get flattened.

Will the streets be this busy tomorrow?

In the three years since the law passed, I haven't seen a single nude person in the city centre. Or anywhere outside. I suppose that's the English for you. Especially here.

Nudity is definitely not professional enough.

The hour-long train ride home is nerve-wracking. Tomorrow, I'll be an hour away from my clothes. Every seat is full, morning and night. Clinging to the handrail in my usual spot, pressed between half a dozen other commuters. I can't help but imagine tomorrow. My petite, naked self pressed between these same people.

Idle hands grazing unrestricted flesh.

This is so stupid. I'll just make an excuse. Not feeling well. Stubbed my toe. Dropped my liver on the way home.

At least the streets on the way back to my flat are clear. That's one benefit of living in the greater metropolitan area. When I turn the corner to my street, I can see Eliza sitting on the wall outside my place. Fiddling with her phone.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, shaking hands fumbling with my keys. I know exactly why she's here.

To stop me from backing out.

"I figured you'd be thinking of excuses," she said, hopping off the wall. "So, I'm here to keep you honest."

Eliza pulls a bottle of wine from her bag. "... And drunk."

We head inside, and Eliza makes herself at home. She's been my best friend since primary school, and I hate the power she has over me. Not that she's ever used it for evil, but she can shove me way too far outside my comfort zone.

I hate how she's always right.

Eliza pops the cork and gestures at me with the bottle opener. "Clothes off," she says, raising her eyebrows and nodding expectantly.

My shoulders drop. "Now?" I plead, giving her my best pout. "I'm so tired."

"You can put that lip away for a start," Eliza says, pouring the rosé into the big wine glasses. "Get used to being naked. It'll make tomorrow easier."

"Here," she says, handing me the glass. "A little Italian courage."

Sighing, I take the glass and chug half of it. "That's Australian."

"Really?" she asks, checking the label. "I knew it was one of the 'lians'. Regardless, nudity. Now."

Eliza perches on the edge of a chair. Perfectly elegant in her damn power suit. The grey material stretching over her thighs, reminding me how utterly outclassed I am. She sips from the giant glass and wiggles her fingers at me.

"Fine... fine."

Kicking my shoes off first, I get the easy part out of the way. The trousers go next, and they are half-way down my thighs before I even question why I'm obeying her. The cool air on my bare legs makes them clench.

She's really going to make me do this.

My shaking fingers move to the shirt next. It has enough buttons to delay, building that agonising coil in my gut. Every loose button exposes me more. I feel sick, but I can't stop.

Eliza is smirking at me as I fumble with the last button. With a shaking breath, I slide the shirt off my shoulders and let it fall.

"There," I say, adjusting my knickers. Glad for the wine and the warmth it's bringing.

She just rolls her eyes and raises an eyebrow. Scolding me without words until my head falls. I know what she wants. Reaching behind me, I unclasp my bra and let it hang loose on my shoulders. Giving her one last futile look of silent, rejected pleading, I let the bra fall to the floor. Nipples hard and tingling in the cold.

She stares at me until I slip my thumbs beneath the lace panties, sliding them to the floor, and adding them to the pile of clothes and dignity.

She didn't even let me keep my socks on.

I can feel my skin prickling with the chill and Eliza's attention. Grasping my arm over my breast and crossing my legs in front of me. A small shake of her head and even those small mercies are stolen.

My lowered hands tap my bare thighs impotently.

She nods. "Good. How do you feel?"

"Naked, cold, naked, and stupid," I say, trying to find that courage in my wineglass.

My head and the glass are tilted way back when I see a flash and hear Eliza's phone camera.

I choke on the mouthful of wine. "DID YOU JUST TAKE A PICTURE?"

"Oh, yes. I did," she says. A wide, mischievous grin spreads slowly over her face. "Do you remember Henry?"

The sudden shift in topic throws me. "The guy you were 'dating'?"

"Fucking, yes. Now, his sister's best friend's cousin is dating the best friend of Jamie's brother," she says, her foot is twitching with excitement. "Isn't that interesting?"

"Objection; relevance," I say, pouring myself another glass. I'm going to need it.

"Overruled." She shifted forward in her seat. "I have Jamie's number," she says, waving her phone at me.

My eyes widen, and I drink more. She wouldn't send that picture to anyone. Would she? No, that's... I mean, I was planning on him seeing everything anyway...

No. No no no. Not like that, not without... you know. Fondling. The plan is for him to help me out of my clothes.

"Eliza, please. I know you wouldn't share my nudes with my co-worker," I say, almost sounding convinced. "It would spread around the staff. Other cafes. Waitresses talk. Sam... no you wouldn't."

"Actually, I would, because I know things that you don't."

Eliza stands up and walks over to me, placing her hand on my chin and turning my face toward her. Her hazel eyes glaring deep into me.

She rubs a thumb over my lip, wiping up some spilled wine. "Wonderful things," she says, pressing her lips to her thumb before licking them. "Juicy things, Daisy."

Juicy things? About Jamie? What did she learn? It could be anything. Eliza has a way of extracting information from casual conversations that would make MI6 very interested.

I bite my lip and look up at her smug, smiling face. "H-how juicy?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow." She smirks. "Do you still want to back out?"

My chest is so tight every breath I take shakes me.

I slowly shake my head.

"If you don't want to, you know I'm not going to force you, right?" she asks, kissing me on the head. "I push you because I love you."

I take another large, nervous sip from my glass.

"Daisy, do you remember why you agreed to this?" she asks, slipping her jacket off.

"Ennui?" I deflect.

Eliza folds her coat and places it on the table. "Because you want to be seen," she says, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. "More than that, you want to feel desired. Because you don't notice when you are, you feel as though you are not."

I watch her fold her skirt and place it on the jacket. Without a single breath of hesitation, her bra and panties join the pile, and I'm left staring at her. I would kill to look like her.

Tall. Leggy. Graceful. And those tits? They defy all reason. This isn't the first time we've seen each other naked. I mean, we've been friends for over a decade, but no matter how often it happens, no matter how hard I look.

I can't find a single flaw.

Not one.

"Tell me," she says, pouring herself some wine.

"Just envious of your perfect body," I mutter.

She smiles. "Thank you, but I'm not perfect."

Bullshit. If Eliza walked into the cafe, I would bet an entire week's wages on Jamie asking her out.

Pointing to her left nipple. "This nipple is larger," she says, pinching it and tugging her breast. "but the boob is slightly smaller. They are also heavy, as you can imagine double D's would be, so gravity and physics are against me. They hang far lower than I'd like."

Eliza shifts the glass into her other hand, tracing a finger around the circle of my breast. "I would love to have breasts as shapely and pert as yours," she says, giving my nipple a playful flick. "And those cute little pink nipples? Daisy, I don't think you realise how envious of you I am."

Envious of me? Her tiny, dumpy, chronically single charity friend? I cock my head and look up at her. She's seriously good at pep talks. My nipple is still tingling where she flicked it. Great. Now I can't stop thinking about it. The warmth from the wine is spreading, and I can feel that rosy rosé flush on my cheeks and body. The cold air on my skin feels amazing now.

I give Eliza a big hug, which presses my face into her hot skin and soft breasts. "Thanks," I whisper. "I'd probably never do anything if I didn't have you to talk me into it."

She wraps an arm around me, her hand sliding down my back, causing the muscles to twitch and flex with the pleasant tickle that follows.

"I think you were always planning on going through with it," she says, resting her glass on my head. "You just enjoy letting me think I've convinced you."

I carefully pull back to look at her. "How do you figure?"

Eliza smirks again, her eyes flicking down towards my stomach. "You shaved."

My eyes flick away from her knowing smirk. "I waxed last night," I mutter, hiding my beet face behind a desperate mouthful.

I scamper to my laptop, dodging the accusation. "Hey look at this subject change," I say, booting it up. "Let's not get drunk in silence, hm?"

The music helps, and I almost forget I'm naked; or at least stop worrying about it. I even dance a little, at Eliza's bemused insistence. All it takes is a bottle and a half to find my courage, and by the time we stumble into bed, I'm actually excited to show everything to the world.

Until...

Alarms. Daylight. Hangover.

I wake engulfed by Eliza. The first attempt to open my eyes is punished by the morning. Learning my lesson, I shuffle closer, retreating into the comfort of her cleavage. She stirs to draw me in, and I wonder why I even tried to move at all.

If only that incessant beeping would fuck off.

The beeping continues until Eliza groans and slaps the bedside table, then the lamp, finally killing the alarm. We both melt back into each other, sighing in the silence.

"Coffee. Please, bring me coffee," she mumbles, pulling the blanket over both of our heads.

I open my eyes beneath the cover, wiping the crust from my lashes. My cheek is wet, so I rub my face on the blanket and mop my drool from her chest. After checking she isn't looking, of course.

Sliding out of bed, I rest my feet on the floor and stare at them. I don't want to be awake. I want to be asleep in the boobs. Standing up, a challenge in its own right, I waddle toward the kitchen. I catch a glance of myself in the mirror that slaps the fog away.

Bare skin.

We're going into the fucking city naked. Today.

I drag my hands through my hair as I shuffle into the kitchen. "You can do it, Daisy," I mumble, flicking the kettle on. "You want to do it. Don't let the fear beat you."

That's easier said than done. If I was being totally honest, the idea of it excites me a little. Just a little. The novelty of it. It's daring, and I'm never that. But... it's also terrifying.

What if someone takes a picture?

If they post it online, boom... Everyone I know has my nudes and I'm a pariah. A slut. Banned from all the church bake sales, and doomed to never find a husband.

Which is just my life in a 'slut' shell.

I fill the cups with some strong, milky coffees. Three scoops. Extra milk. Guzzle-safe. Stumbling back to the bedroom, I see Eliza stretching in front of the opened curtains. She has no shame.

None.

"What are you doing?" I ask, offering a cup. "What if my neighbours see?"

Eliza smirks. "Daisy, we'll be walking out of here naked. They're going to see."

Oh shit. That's right. That's... A lot of my neighbours have street facing cameras.

Oh fuck.

This will not be some quick thing that goes away. Things will never be the same. I chug the cup while catastrophising. From now until the day I move, every look I get, every smile, every nod, every 'good morning'... I'm going to be wondering if that neighbour saw me. If they have actual footage of my unmentionables.

Would they jerk it looking at me? Do I want that?

It would be nice to feel... desirable? Sexy?

This is stupid, but it might be nice to be sexualised for once. Not in a gross way, but feeling pretty, or even just comfortable in my skin.

The way Eliza is.

My heart goes into overdrive as we get ready. Showering, brushing our teeth, doing our hair and make-up. The most mundane things, but they're a countdown. When each new thing is finished, I'm one step closer to the moment all my walls come crashing down.

Can you actually die from embarrassment?

Eliza, fucking Eliza, is as calm as I've ever seen her. Perfectly applying her perfect lipstick to her stupid, perfect lips. Her hands aren't even shaking. How? Was she a robot this whole time?

"I got you something," she says, sliding a ribbon-tied box from her handbag. "I have one to match."

Inside is a small, rustic leather bag with two straps.

"A leg bag?" I ask, watching as she pulls a larger one, unwrapped, from her handbag.

Eliza takes the bag from me. "You needed somewhere to keep your sundries," she says, kneeling and fastening the belt and leg strap. "You look very pretty."

I examine myself in the mirror, adjusting the bag. It hides nothing. In fact, I think it frames my hairless vag.

"It's drawing attention to my bits."

"Good," she says, fastening her own bag and standing next to me in the mirror. "I think today is going to be a lot of fun, don't you?"

Fun? My stomach is doing flips, and my face is a crimson catastrophe. We haven't even stepped outside yet. I look at my toes and try to dig them into the carpet. Maybe if I anchor myself here, I won't have to go. A tiny squeak escapes me.

I have to do this. Not have to, but if I keep taking the safe option, I'm never going to do anything. Ever.

Eliza wraps her arms around me, and my hands latch onto her. "I'm so scared," I whimper.

"I know, but you know what?" she trains my gaze on my reflection. "You're beautiful, bold, and brave. It scares you, but you're doing it, anyway. That's courageous as fuck, Daisy. Powerful. I'm so proud of you."

She kisses my head and reaches for her phone. I just stare at myself. I'm picturing the crowds. The laughter, everyone pointing at me. The tiny charity case with her fucking super model friends.

For fuck's sake, Frankie is literally a model.

I'm grateful to have such distractingly beautiful friends around me, but... won't it be worse if I'm nude and still invisible?

If they look at me, I might actually explode from the embarrassment, but if they don't look at me? I might as well accept I will never, ever be seen.

Why am I doing this again?

"Hey," Eliza says, squeezing my shoulder. "Stop spiralling. Relax."

I nod, but we both know I'm lying. Fiddling with my hair, the one thing I can control, I flitter between styles. Perhaps a pony tail? I hold my black hair behind my head. No, that just keeps my face, and all of my embarrassment, completely exposed.

Will exposing more even matter?

The doorbell rings and I instinctively take a step toward the door and freeze. What if it's the postie? Or Amazon?

What if it's Jehovah's? That might actually be worth it.

I look toward Eliza, who just nods toward the door. "Don't you dare cover up."

Dragging my heels toward the door. Clenching my fists at my side, each step brushes cool air over my flushing skin. My neck, chest, definitely my face are all burning. I struggle to control my breathing as I wrap my fingers around the cold metal latch.

No covering up. Don't be a coward. Be bold. Be brave.

I swing the door wide open, not giving myself the chance to hide behind it. A sigh of relief bursts out of me as I see the other two friends for this insanity. Frankie, the literal model. Six feet of unrealistic beauty standards, and a very sweet, if ditzy girl.

Bella, the other lunatic, is terrifyingly gorgeous. Blue-black hair, pale, pierced, and tattooed; she is the big-titty-goth-gf of every redditor's dreams.

Bella tilts her sunglasses down and stares at me. "That bag makes your gash stand out," she says. "I love that for you."

Frankie kneels to hug me, pressing herself into me. "I can't believe you're actually doing it."

"Neither can I, Frankie," I say, stepping aside to let them in. "Neither can I."

Frankie bursts into the house and starts stripping, leaving clothes wherever they land. By the time the door is closed, she's naked and hugging Eliza. Bella stomps more deliberately into the front room. The coffin backpack is dropped onto a seat, and she hoists her loose black dress over her head.

I stare at her pierced nipples. I knew she had them pierced, but it's just now dawning on me she had shown some rando her tits.

"I have my clit pierced too," Bella says, tugging her mound up to reveal the silver ring. "Since you're staring, might as well get the whole show."

"Sorry. Sorry," I say, averting my gaze. "I'm really nervous and I just realised that you showed your boobs to a total stranger."

Bella stuffed her dress into her backpack. "I got my clit pierced at a festival," she says, putting the thin chain straps over her shoulders. "There were dozens of strangers watching. It really isn't as big of a deal as you might think."

"Easy for you to say. You're stunning." I shuffle toward the kitchen. "Would you like a coffee?"

"So are you," she says, finding a playlist on my laptop. "Black, no sugar... Please."

I poke my head into the bedroom. "Coffees?"

"Do you have any low fat almond milk?" Frankie asks.

"I have water. If you like, I can show it a picture of an almond?"

Eliza snorts.

Frankie glances at Eliza and chuckles, too. "Um, black is fine. No sugar, but could I have some cinnamon, chilli powder, and turmeric if you have any?" she asks, turning to Eliza. "They are soo healthy. People need to have more of those things in their diet."

Shaking my head, I go back to the kitchen and start making the drinks. Who puts turmeric in coffee? I open the fridge to get the milk and the cold air washes over me. I forgot I was naked again. That's good, right? If I can get used to it, maybe it won't be so bad. Now that I've noticed it again, I am suddenly so very aware of my nipples.

Fuck.

I toss the carton of milk on the counter and slam the door shut. Maybe if I close my eyes, I can forget again. The kettle is getting louder; the girls are laughing in the front room, and my nipples are so hard they're pinching themselves. I cup my breasts, hoping a bit of warmth will calm them down, but the pressure just makes it worse. A quiet moan escapes me as I realise that this will be an ordeal of body awareness.

The cold vinyl floor beneath my feet. The tickle of my hair as it brushes over my shoulders. Fuck, even my breath is washing over my chest.

I'm so nervous. So warm.

Shifting my weight nervously, I try to stop my hands from shaking as I spoon the coffee into the cups. A bead of condensation from the milk carton rolls over my fingers. I groan. If I back out now, I'll never forgive myself.

After the drinks, and a few last-minute mirror checks. Mainly from me. I'm definitely not stalling. My three gorgeous, annoyingly confident friends step outside onto the street, leaving me lingering in the doorway. It's nothing to them at all. Standing in the street, naked as the day they were born.

The sunlight is only making them look more amazing.

Breathe.

I shut my eyes and step outside. Immediately the daylight warms my skin, and sun-heated stone welcomes my bare feet. I look at the sky and for a moment, everything is alright. Basking in the sun's warmth is soothing. I turn around and face my flat.

The open door.

The threshold.

Back that way is the old Daisy. It's safe. Familiar. That Daisy was suffocating. Invisible. I need to be more.

I need to be seen.

Shutting the door, I put the keys into my leg bag and rest my head on the door. "So far, so mortifying."

"Daisy, we're going to miss the train," Eliza yells.

"Yes, yes. Thank you for reminding me about the hour-long naked train ride into the busy, crowded city," I say, taking another steadying breath and trying to focus on the warm sunshine on my back.

My naked back.

Walking along the path to the street, it takes every last bit of my willpower to keep from covering up. When I reach the street, my safety net welcomes me with a naked huddle, and their infectious excitement. Then the cuddle splits, and I see a neighbour walking his dog.

Staring at us.

At them, mostly, I would imagine. It's still my street. I'm going to see him again tomorrow. My hands shoot to my face as I sink into a squat. I wish I could sink lower.

The centre of the earth would be nice.

"Morning," he says, crossing the road to avoid us.

The girls wave back, but I just squeal into my hands. This is all too much. Peeking through my fingers, I watch him glance back. Checking them all out. Them, but not me.

Bella squats next to me and wraps an arm around me. "You can go home if you want, you know?" she whispers into my ear. "I think you should keep going, though. Not because Eliza said so, or because you think you're obligated. Do it because it scares you. Do it to prove to yourself, not us, that you can."

Her warm breath in my ear sends tingles over my scalp.

Looking up from my hands, I lean my head onto her shoulder. "I see him every morning."

"Stand up, Daisy. Never hide who you are," Bella whispers. She kisses me on the head and stands up, gesturing at Eliza and Frankie as if they were causing the delay. "Can we move? I'm at risk of getting a tan."

I take a deep breath and stand up. "Wouldn't want that," I say, tapping my hips with my hands. "You'll get kicked out of the gothic group chats."

"Are you okay?" Eliza asks, nodding toward my flat. "We can turn back if it's too much."

I look at the door I shut. The old Daisy. "I don't feel different yet," I say, looking up at the sky. Beautiful and blue.

My support network is looking at me. The only ones who see me. They're so amazing, not just for how loved they make me feel, but they believe in me. Sometimes it's like they see things in me I can't even acknowledge. I close my eyes and hold my breath.

Just one step.

My legs are tight, almost frozen, but I will my foot forward. Then the next. By the time I'm able to open my eyes, I'm walking. As natural as it's ever been. The warm stone beneath my toes as I take each careful step a reward for my bravery. Every breath shudders, and my face in burning, but I'm doing it. The new Daisy is in this direction, somewhere, and I'm going to keep walking until I find her.

"Didn't think I'd make it this far," I say as I reach the main road.

With no response, I spin around and go stiff. My friends are still waiting by my flat. The distance makes my stomach clench. A car honks as it passes, making me jump and squeak.

I frantically wave for them to join me. They take their sweet time as I bounce nervously on the street corner. Shooting glances around in every direction like a meerkat looking for lions, I want so badly to curl up again. But I don't.

I refuse.

More cars. More honks. I can hear some slowing down as they pass behind me. My shoulders tense and rise. My toes try to dig into the stone. Shifting hands move instinctively to cover me. It's only by digging my nails into my palms and locking out my elbows that I'm able to keep them at my side.

The car that slowed turns onto my street and stops next to me. I cringe and wave again for my friends. My whole body is tense, but Frankie breaks into a sprint to get to me.

Bless Frankie, that energetic beauty.

The car window winds down, and an older man leans over. "Are you alright, petal? Did something happen?"

I force my head to turn toward him. My every muscle is so stiff I'm shaking. I don't even bother trying to smile.

"N-no, j-just having a w-walk," I say, noticing his eyes drifting over me.

He just nods and moves back into his seat, but he doesn't drive off. He's still looking at me. This is what I wanted, isn't it? To be seen?

With a held breath and closed eyes, I turn to face the car. "A-and you? G-good day s-s-so f-far?"

The man smiles. "It wasn't, but you've definitely perked it up."

"W-well th-they are p-perky," I say, and immediately cringe.

He laughs. "Yes, they are. This your first time doing anything like this?"

I squeeze my eyes and nod. "Not usually this s-stupid."

"You and your friends have some guts, but then... if I looked like you, I don't think I'd ever get dressed," he says, tapping the steering wheel harder. "Sorry, I know it's not 'PC' to say stuff like that."

I let my face relax and my eyes open again. Frankie is close, but she stopped moving. She's mouthing 'are you okay?' but keeping her distance.

I nod. I am okay. He saw me, and I didn't die. It's humiliating, but I did it.

"No need to apologise," I say, taking my first steady breath since I've been outside. "It actually really helped. Thank you."

"Thanks for the reason to smile," he says, glancing toward Frankie, then taking a longer look at me. I can almost feel my skin tingling where his gaze lands.

"Man, I wish I could stay here all day," he says, resting his hand on the gearstick. "But duty calls."

"Nice meeting you," I say, leaning over to look in the window. "Maybe book today off for next year."

"Today? Oh, ooh... It's that nude day." He rubs his forehead. "Now, it makes sense. That's a great idea. Good luck on your, uh, walk."

I wave as he drives off, slowing as he passes Eliza and Bella. I turn to Frankie and scream as she closes the distance and screams with me. Bouncing together, I can't help but grin from ear to ear.

"I did it. I did it."

"You did," Frankie squeals, matching my excitement. "I don't know what, but you did it."

"I didn't hide. He was checking me out, and I let him. I even talked to him."

Frankie stopped bouncing and scratched beneath her boob. "Oh yeah," she said. "You're embarrassed by this stuff, huh?"

"I don't know how you do it, honestly." I turn to face the main road. "But I think I'm getting used to it."

Frankie steps behind me and rests her hands and chin on my head. "I guess it's a lot like the first time I did a nude shoot. It's like... I didn't want to, but that's the job sometimes. Scary, but they were super prof and when the robe came off, they had me do stuff like jumping jacks, cartwheels. Fun stuff. After that, I didn't mind being naked so much."

Her hands moved to cover my eyes. "And now I don't care because my nudes are part of my portfolio," she said, sneaking a hand to my breast and tugging on a nipple.

They're so sensitive, probably because they've been pointing the way forward all morning, but when she squeezes it, I moan. Then flush hot.

Frankie giggles. "Are you getting a bit randy?" she asks, giving my butt a squeeze. "Because I'm game if you are."

"You surprised me, that's all," I say, batting her groping hands away.

"Sure I did. Anyway, I guess what I was trying to say is... post your nudes online. Then you won't need to be nervous about being naked."

I spin around to look at Frankie. My head cocked as I try to figure out if she's joking or not. "I don't think that solution would work for me, Frankie. I appreciate the advice, though."

I think about what she said. Doing physical activities to get comfortable in a situation. Could that work?

I have another quick check for onlookers, and finding none, I do a quick set of jumping jacks. Frankie joins in, for some reason.

The paving stones are hard under my feet, but bouncing barefoot is liberating. Natural. Like it's how my body was supposed to be. How I was supposed to move. Every bounce gives my boobs a jolt, but they recover quickly. I notice Frankie's are almost constantly jiggling.

I guess my tits really are perky.

I finish the jacks and take a deep breath. Smooth. Steady. My hands are still. I can feel the weight of my breasts, the ache in my thighs, and the sting of the wind on my skin.

I like it.

For the first time, I actually like it.

I'm going to be okay.

When Eliza and Bella finally catch up, we continue our walk to the station. I'm practically skipping, which brings the others a lot of amusement. I had expected to be hyper-aware of my body, but feeling how massive my grin is right now? That I did not expect. Cars honk, and I wave. I turn to face pedestrians on the other side of the street.

I am alive. The wind caresses every part of my sun-warmed skin. The coolness of it leaves a tickle in its wake that I simply love. Even in the station, which had six or seven people waiting for the train. All of them staring at us as we waited. Muttering to each other.

That's okay. Talk. Mutter. We were brave enough to do this, and you weren't. I grab my breasts and squeeze them. Did they get bigger? I know they feel hot. Obviously because the sun is beating down on this beautiful day. I'm almost sad when the train pulls in, because it means I'll have to spend an entire hour away from the gorgeous rays of the sun.

No matter. It's just an hour.

I feel like I can do anything.

I turn to face the train as the doors hiss open. My smile slowly fades as I scan the wall of faces staring back at me. Mouths open.

I forgot how busy the morning trains are.

"I can't do this," I mutter, shaking my head.

"What can't you do? Be naked in front of dozens of people?" Eliza asks, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Because take a look. You already are, and you're absolutely crushing it."

Frankie hops up the step onto the train and offers a hand. "You can do it, besides... I sort of left my wallet in my coat pocket and I need you to pay for my ticket, please," she says, flashing a big pleading grin.

Bella and Eliza both step onto the train and look back at me.

"Or stay here naked and alone," Eliza says.

I whimper, but grab Frankie's hand and let her pull me onto the train. I whimper again as the doors hiss shut and my hour as a naked sardine begins.

Facing the window, I watch the platform vanish. My house. My clothes. Safety. My shoulders tense up again and I shuffle into a corner. To my relief, Bella grabs a handle near me and gives me a bit of a shield. I look up at her and examine her tattoos. There's this incredible snake that coils up her leg, and it appears as though the head of it is... inside her.

Something else she had to disrobe for. How is she not mortified?

Eliza has one hand grabbing a rail on the ceiling, the other flicking through her phone. She's completely unfazed. This is just another commute for her. The other passengers are ogling, even the women are staring and whispering to one another. Why am I the only one bothered by this?

"Daisy... Daisy," Frankie whispers.

I turn to her and she squats, opening her legs to reveal two stick-on googly eyes on either side of her slit.

"Hewwo," she says, in a deep, silly voice while tugging her lips open.

I can't hold it in. I burst into giggles, pressing my hand against my mouth to keep quiet, but it's no good. Frankie continues her routine and I'm in tears. The passengers who can see start quietly snickering to themselves as well, and just like that, the bubble of tension bursts.

Even Bella is chuckling.

I take a breath and step out from behind Bella. "You're something else, Frankie," I say, nudging her with my shoulder.

"I thought it looked cute. Watch this," she says, wiggling her hips, making the eyes jiggle. "I love these things."

"You love everything," Bella says, putting her back to the wall. "It's infuriating."

"You love stuff too, princess of darkness," Frankie says, standing up and adjusting her folds. "And I love you for it."

Now that Bella has moved, I'm fully exposed. No more gothic cover, but I appreciate how she waited for me to take the first step. That's a classic Bella move. There's no fanfare, and she won't ever make a big deal out of anything. Just quietly offers support until it's clear you don't need it.

The train pulls in at the next station, and I'm forced to move away from the door. I grab the handle as if my life depends on it, and watch each face as it steps on. First, they gaze at me, then the others, then they awkwardly find a place to stand.

I try to make room, and it's not as though I take up a lot of it, but there isn't much to go around. The soft scratch of clothing as people push past leaves a ghost of sensation on my skin. I remember what it was like to have clothes on. I should have them on now. I shuffle my bare feet inward, toes resting on toes. Last thing I need is to be stomped on, especially likely considering the only handle was the vertical bar in the middle of the section.

A warm hand brushes against mine and, looking up, I see a young man in a cheap suit quickly averting his gaze.

"Sorry," he says, sliding his hand away.

I smile up at him and bite my lip. He's trying so hard not to look. His neck is tense. His knuckles are white on the handle. I glance toward Frankie, then Bella. Finally, I let my gaze settle on Eliza. I could stand to be more like them. Flirtly Frankie, is just trying to have fun no matter the situation. Bella just doesn't give a fuck at all, and Eliza? She's still engrossed in her phone.

How do I get that comfortable?

I look at my feet and shift positions. I can see people looking, watching. Not just the three beauties, they're also looking at me.

Some are trying to hide it, looking away as my survey of the situation threatens to catch them. Others don't even try to hide their gaze. They stare at me, my body. Even as I muster my courage to stare back, they just smirk and drink me in. Another stop.

More people climb on and claim what little space was left.

I'm pressed against the suited young man, between an older guy in a tracksuit who practically forced his way next to me. Suit guy is breathing heavily. Stealing glances. He shifts in place and rubs against me. I shift and rub against him.

I miss the cool breeze, because it's getting really warm on this train. All the people and no windows on this wonderful day. I feel hot all over.

Tapping on the suited gent's arm, I get his attention and give him permission to look at me.

"Would it be alright if I put my feet on yours?" I ask, looking up more with my eyes than my head. "I'm scared of being stepped on."

His mouth opens. Enough for half a breath, but no words. His head drops and he sighs. Silently turning a shoe toward me.

"Thank you," I say, stepping onto him. Pressing myself closer. I'm teasing him on purpose, and I wonder if he knows it. My shallow breaths are shaking again. The tightness in my chest brings a new warmth with it.

His hand brushes against my breast. It grazes my nipple as he pulls it away. I feel his warmth linger on my body.

"Fuck, sorry," he says, blushing almost as much as I am.

"Don't worry," I say. "It was an accident."

I narrow my gaze and crease my brow. "... Or was it?" I ask, giggling after I pause long enough for him to stammer.

The cutest smile cracks his face, and he turns away to laugh.

"Had me worried," he says, giving me a flash of his smiling face. He still can't quite look at me.

I thought I'd be vulnerable. Weak. Overlooked. But he's completely under my spell.

Entranced.

I am powerful.

The train jolts, pushing everyone into everything. My balancing act crumbles as I fall backwards. The grip on the central pole only guiding my descent instead of stopping it. I squeak, expecting gravity and a hard floor; instead, I feel a warm hand on my back, and a strong arm pulling me close. My free hand grips the suited arm as it steadies me.

I look up at him, and our eyes meet. They lock. They linger. His hand is still on my back. Fingers spread wide as my muscles react, arching my back, pressing me into him. I can hear my heartbeat, or is it his? I can't tell, but I know mine is in my throat. My gaze flicks to his lips as I lick mine, before I get lost again in the moment. His hand slides over my skin as he pulls his arm away. Without thinking, I tighten my grip on him.

He stops.

The world stops.

"... Daisy," Eliza says.

"Hm?" I drag my gaze from him to see my friends looking at me. My eyes flick between them. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Eliza asks, shooting glances at the young man.

"Mhmm. Yup. Totally," I say, turning my gaze back to him. "Just two strangers on a train who are definitely not having a moment."

He glances toward Eliza, then back to me. "I think your friends might hurt me if I don't let you go."

"I might hurt you if you do," I say, pouting.

The realisation of how blatant and brazen I'm being slaps me in both cheeks, and I burn red. I have to look away.

"Gods, I am so sorry. I'm not usually this flirtatious," I say, stepping off his foot. "Or naked."

His finger tips trace around my torso as his hand slips away, just barely grazing the edge of my breast.

"That's a shame," he says, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I'm lucky I got to experience both, then."

I turn to Eliza, widening my eyes and pursing my lips. She smirks and returns to her phone. I spend the rest of the ride stealing glances at the cute guy, wishing I could ask for his number, or even his name, but that wouldn't be fair to him. My heart, as of right now, belongs to Jamie. It doesn't seem right to keep a back-up option, or to give hope to someone unnecessarily.

I am definitely having some feelings toward him. That smile is like a hot knife through my butter, and I am melting. Or am I just sweating from the stifling heat on this train?

When we finally pull into Valeria station, I pull him by his jacket and, rising onto my toes, give him a kiss on the cheek. "It was nice to meet you," I say, walking backwards onto the platform. Smiling as I watch him take his coat off and fold it in front of his crotch.

Did I get you hard, pretty stranger?

"What. A. Slut," Bella says. "Seriously, I think he was about to bust in his pants."

"You think so?" I ask, glancing behind me. Hoping to steal another look at him.

"Are you kidding?" Frankie asks, jumping in with an arm around me and Bella. "He was hard the whole time."

Bella nods. "Why am I not surprised that you were looking at it," she says, sliding out from under Frankie. "Well done, Daisy. That was very brave."

I stare at the tiled floor of the station, chewing my smile. The open air of the station is such a relief after the train. Every cooling step an affirmation for baring my soles.

What was I worried about?

Even as we exit the station on to the bustling city streets, the looks on people's faces as they pass by, the way their heads turn toward us. Always with a slight raise of the brow. They're finally stepping around me. Lowering their phones to see me.

I stretch my arms above my head, and then out to the side. Releasing the tension held in my shoulders. I hop in front of my friends. Giddy and grinning.

"I'm ready for the festival," I say, beaming and bouncing on the balls of my feet.

Bella nudges Eliza. "We've created a monster," she says, ruffling my hair. "You were about ready to jump that lucky lad."

"If I wasn't head over slit for Jamie, I might have done exactly that," I say, spinning around. "I feel better than I have in a really long time."

"The park is this way," Eliza says, walking in the direction she's pointing. "Try not to leave a trail, Daisy."

I quickly check the floor to see what I've been dropping, but seeing nothing, I take off after them. I'm happy walking a few steps behind everyone, looking in shop windows. The hairs on my neck stand up. The air is electric, sending ripples of delicious sensation dancing over my skin. Even my somersaulting stomach is settling into a tight coil.

A tickle of wind teases my hip.

My feet register every crack, lump, or bobble on the pavement.

Back in the sunshine, I bask in my bravery. I don't care if I'm seen or not.

This is amazing.

I can't wait to see the festival. What sort of events will there be? It made little sense to research it. I was sure I would be a terrified little ball of nerves being rolled towards it by Eliza. It never once occurred to me I would enjoy this.

Leaving the busy streets and entering the park, my excitement wanes considerably. There aren't any tents, bands, or events at all. Just a few naked people sitting on the grass. Probably fewer than thirty in total.

"That's... a pretty generous use of 'festival'," I say, somewhat deflated. "No music? No dancing? No crowds?"

"Aw, is the newest nudist disappointed there aren't more people to gawk at her?" Eliza teases. "I told you that you'd like it, didn't I?"

"You did, and you were right."

Frankie cups a hand to her forehead as she scans the park. "Daisy has a point, though. This is pretty lame."

"Maybe it'll liven up in an hour or so?" Bella suggests, typing on her phone.

Eliza shrugs. "I admit, I was expecting a bit more effort on their part," she says, putting her phone into her leg bag. "Let's give it an hour, as Bella says. It's still only ten in the morning."

We make our way to one of the many unoccupied picnic tables. Eliza and Bella stretch out on either end of the table, with Frankie sitting between them with her feet on the seat, leaning back on her hands, soaking in the sun. I look around at the other attendees.

We're clearly the youngest here, by a couple of decades minimum. That might explain the lack of energy. Like an orgy at a library. Actually, that sounds way more fun. Seriously, is this it? After everything we... I went through? All the nerves, fear, and gathered willpower.

A fucking picnic?

It's worse than that. At least a picnic would have sandwiches. I stroll around the table. The warm earth is still pleasant, and the grass tickling my feet with each step reminds me of the excitement I felt earlier. I pull my phone out of my leg bag. No messages. I pull down on the screen to refresh.

Nothing.

My hands fall to my side as I sigh at the sky. Am I bored? Or is it just that everything here is so chill compared to everything else?

"Tell me," Eliza says, without looking up from her phone.

"I don't know, I just... is this it?" I ask, gesturing at the almost empty park. "It feels a little, I don't know, anticlimactic."

Eliza turns her phone over. "What were you expecting? An orgy? Fireworks and pole-dancing?" she asks, fixing her gaze on me.

Bella lowers her phone to raise a brow at Eliza, then joins her in staring at me.

"Again, I don't know. I just... Expected like..." I put my hands on my hips and stare at the sky. "I thought I'd feel different. Not about this. About myself. I thought I'd change, or something."

"You don't think you've changed?" Eliza asks, sitting up and perching on the edge of the table.

"Do you?"

"Yes, you've absolutely changed, and for the better." Eliza points her phone at me and snaps a picture.

Bella glares at Eliza.

I stare at her and raise my brow. "Another nude to send Jamie?" I ask, smirking. "I already called that bluff. You wouldn't do that to anyone, least of all me."

Eliza smirks back, and I feel my stomach tighten. "Daisy, you're right. I wouldn't," she says, winking at Bella. "You freaked out when I took the picture last night, yet now you shrug it off."

She holds her phone out and gestures for me to look. "Before," she says, showing the picture she took last night. I look terrified. Gripping the wine glass like a lifeline.

She swipes to the picture she just took. "After."

I stare at the picture, taking the phone from her with stunned hands. I barely recognise myself. In every photo I've ever had, I've been awkward and embarrassed. With that smile that screams 'brave face'.

I hate having my picture taken.

But... In this picture? I'm upright. I'm open. I look... confident.

"If you still need more proof of your growth," Eliza says, peeling her phone from my fingers. "You're standing naked in the middle of the city... and you're bored."

Taking a deep breath, I cock my head and let her words resonate. I am bored. Eliza knows me better than anyone. My hands aren't shaking, I'm not trying to shrink away.

I haven't even thought about covering up since we got on the train.

I shrug. "Huh..." I mumble. "Did you know I'd be bored? Or did you only plan everything else?"

"Actually, and I know this is going to sound bitchy, but I expected you to chicken out at the train," Eliza says, stepping off the table and placing her hands on my shoulder. "That's why we had Bella bring spare clothes in her bag. You've surprised even me, Daisy. I'm not even mad, and you know how much I hate surprises."

I lunge forward and wrap my arms around Eliza. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She squeezes me tight. "Without you, I'd probably be in jail. Or a cult leader."

"Or a cult leader in prison," Bella adds.

Eliza smirks. "That sounds like fun," she says, kissing my head and returning to the table. "If you're bored, find some way to amuse yourself."

Frankie thrusts a hand in the air. "Cornettos!" she spurts, leaning back on the table, looking at me with her head upside down. "It's hot. I want to lick something."

I look around for a shop and spot a FIDL supermarket pretty close to the park. The road is busy; the pavement is dotted with pedestrians, and, scanning the road, I spot a set of traffic lights. It's probably a five-minute walk, plus however long the lights take to change. I could be there and back again in twenty minutes as the worst-case scenario.

I? Surely I mean we?

Biting my lip, I consider how crazy I might actually be. It's no different from what I've already done. I'd just be doing it alone. My heart skips. Walking through the busy streets. Naked. Alone. Standing at the lights while cars go by, as who knows how many people walk on either side. I picture standing in the queue inside the store, surrounded, trapped.

Exposed.

I feel a warm flush over my body. "Four Cornetto's coming up," I say, stepping boldly toward the park exit.

"Want me to come with?" Bella yells.

I spin around and open my arms. "I got this," I yell back, with a level of bravado that catches me by surprise. I actually mean it. "I'll call Eliza if I need a rescue."

The task doesn't feel real until I reach the steel gate of the park. The metal, shaded by the wall, is cool to the touch, and it creaks loudly when I open it. My presence was announced, and now I am realising how much difference being one of four naked girls had on my mentality.

The confidence I had just moments ago drains. My first instinct is to shut the gate and walk back.

I don't want that. I can't go back. My knee-jerk reactions would have sent me home the minute I stepped outside, and what a day I would have missed. The after picture proved it. I am already a new Daisy.

New Daisy wants a fucking Cornetto.

I straighten up, force my shoulders back, take a deep breath, and step onto the pavement. My friends are out of sight, and all the gazes I told myself were locked onto them now have no other target but me.

Daisy, the naked errand girl.

The pavement is cold. The car engines are louder, the horns honk at an uncomfortable register. I walk in the shadow of the park's wall, and even the warmth of the sunlight is taken from me.

I am removed from all comfort and completely exposed.

A long honk makes me jump, and another involuntary squeak falls from me. The first in a while. Pushing the button for the traffic lights, I stand in fidgeting silence. Hopping from one foot to the other, fists clenching and relaxing at my side. Closing my eyes, I try to steady my heart with deep breaths.

I'm letting my nerves win. I can't enjoy it if I'm too scared to let it happen. Remember the train. Remember the warmth.

I stop bouncing and open my eyes. I'm still warm. Hot, even. Pressing a hand to my breast, I can feel it. My skin is blooming, radiant, and still tingling in the flirtatious wind. It seems sharper on my left, and as I turn to check why, I see someone quickly averting their gaze. I feel a flutter in my gut, and a new warmth spreading from it.

"Nice day for it," I say, finding my mischief.

The parts I've enjoyed most have always been after interacting with people. Old man in the car, cute suit guy... oh, what are you up to now, cute suit guy? Still thinking of me?

"Don't talk to me, slut," the man says, taking a step away from me.

I raise my brow. That was rude, but I suppose you can't please them all. I stretch my arms above my head and smirk as he still steals glances at me.

Envy. That's all it is. He wishes he was brave like me. Could have a girl like me. He lusts after me.

The lights beep, and I strut across the road, waving at the cars that honk. Even pausing in the middle of the road to offer a curtsey. I play the part, and I love it. I think I get why Frankie is the way she is.

This is fun.

The smile I once had forces its way back onto my face. So broad my cheeks hurt, but I can't complain.

I've never been so happy. I pull my phone from my leg bag and, snapping a selfie, send it to Eliza.

Instant read.

She acts aloof, but she was ready to jump in the second I needed. Gives me just enough space to succeed on my own, but her hand is always waiting when I stumble.

The automatic doors of the store slide open, and a blast of conditioned air washes over me. I linger beneath the fan at the entrance, arms wide, head back, letting the cold air tease my skin. Parting my thighs to let them cool off, I gasp as the artificial breeze kisses between them.

My eyes close as I hold myself in this new thrill. My flesh is fever. I ache. I yearn. Sweat glistens on my skin, yet I still burn. I murmur under my long, deep breaths as the itch starts. My fingers trace the top of my breast.

Being naked is incredible. Every impression is heightened. Every tickle is stark.

Fabric brushes against my shoulder. I open my eyes again, moving a hand to the phantom feeling. The residue of clothing as someone passed me. How long have I been standing in the doorway?

I'm so hot. I think I was enjoying the fan a little too much.

Earlier, I would have done anything to forget that I was naked. Now I cherish every sensation that reminds me of it. The cold, sterile floor of the store steals the heat from my feet with each step. Feeling hotter on my thighs, I adjust the strap on my bag as I stroll through the busy store, flashing my permanent grin at everyone who looks my way.

Strangely, the higher I hold my head, the brighter I smile, the more people's gaze lingers. The more they seem to recognise that it's okay to look.

I want them to look. Gods, I do... I want that.

I step down the central path between the rows of aisles. The knot in my stomach had untied itself, and was wrapping around my heart like a coil. Anticipation has replaced anxiety. Every corner a fresh pulse. Another loop. More warmth spreading from my core.

The shoppers gape at me as I walk. My pace deliberate. Taking my time with each indulgent step. My skin is alight with their attention. Electric flickers all over me, as though I can sense where their gaze falls. I slip my fingers beneath the leg strap and adjust it. My thighs are so hot, but the strap isn't as tight as I assumed. Maybe it's because I'm not used to my legs rubbing together.

More of a glide, really. The sweat between them is easing the friction. Strange that I'm not sweating anywhere else, even as hot as I am. I pause beneath another fan and shiver as the cold falls over me. My skin prickles. Instant goosebumps.

Why don't we do this all the time? This is how we used to live, right? Not in air-conditioned supermarkets, but naked in the wild. This awareness is ancient. Primal.

I turn down a busy aisle and peruse the shelves. I don't need anything from here. Not from the shelves, anyway. I stand aside to let people push their trolleys past me. Smiling, nodding politely. Feeding on their reaction.

It doesn't matter what it is. Even the indifference of the majority, who don't engage anymore than they have to. Even that adds to the surging ache.

Why does this feel so good?

Am I really so starved for attention it would bring me such joy just being noticed?

I turn a corner and almost bump into a trolley. The awkward shared look brings another flutter as I step out of the way. Glimpsing myself in the corner of my eye, I turn to inspect it. A pillar at the end of the aisle with a mirror on three of its sides. My hair is still looking good, and there's an almost radiant glow to my cheeks. My neck too... and my breasts.

Scanning my reflection, the first time I'd seen myself fully since we left the house, my gaze locks on my lips.

It's my turn to gape.

Slightly swollen.

Slightly parted.

A sheen of excitement glistening in the artificial light.

Oh.

I stare at the undeniable proof of my arousal and everything I've been feeling gains new context. It wasn't embarrassment. Or the thrill of overcoming my fears. At first, maybe, but now? The heat spreading from my core?

Obviously. It's so obvious. Oh gods, I'm so stupid. I was so dazzled by the intoxicating sensations; I didn't even notice what was staring everyone in the face.

They've all seen it. Every glance that shifted down shifted to this.

I quickly pull my phone from my bag. Taking a breath, not to steady my nerves, but to quench the fire. A fire that's burning brighter in my awareness.

I step away from the mirror and bring up Eliza in the messaging app.

Daisy: How are you feeling?

Nice. Casual. I pace around, down another section, only looking up from my phone to make sure I don't bump into anyone. Last thing I need to is to stamp my tramp-juice on some rando.

Eliza: Bored.

Eliza: In need of a chocolate hazelnut Cornetto.

Eliza: Where are you?

Eliza: Is everything okay?

Eliza: You've been gone a long time.

How does she even type that fast? The barrage gives me a much needed chuckle.

Daisy: I'm okay.

Daisy:... a little bit too okay.

Eliza: Tell me.

I lower my phone and turn into another aisle, my thighs sliding together with each over-indulgent step. This one is actually the frozen goods. The target aisle. I type a message. Telling my friend that I'm in the store and I'm horny. I delete it.

Daisy: Seriously, how are you feeling about being naked?

Eliza: It's nice, I suppose.

Eliza: Watching you come out of your shell makes it all worth it.

I stop in front of the ice-cream. One box left in the bottom of the chest freezer. Stuff coming out of its shell is currently the problem.

Daisy: Eliza...

Eliza: Daisy...

Daisy: I think it's turning me on.

Eliza: Yes, we know.

I stare at the message. We?

We?

Am I the only person who didn't know?

Daisy: WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Eliza: You've been flushed since you humped train-guy's leg.

Eliza: Lips swelling.

Eliza: Noticeably wet.

Daisy:... I thought I was just embarrassed.

Eliza: That's hilarious.

I put my phone back into my bag and slide open the freezer. The sadistic bastard who designed it made it too high, and far too deep.

I sigh. Tiny girl problems.

I push off with my feet and let them wiggle in the air, using a hand on the slippery bottom of the chest as support. Gods, don't let me get stuck in here. It's bad enough being intensely aware that my entire gash is being displayed. Oh, and it's wet.

And it's swelling.

Opening. Revealing.

The cold air in the freezer puckers and pinches my nipples, making them sting in exactly the worst way.

The air-conditioning that brought me so much comfort before has likewise turned against me. Not just reminding me of my nudity, but blowing its delicious chilly breath between my cheeks and over my spreading wetness.

I am acutely aware of my lips, and I squeak with happiness when I coax the box close enough to grab.

My luck continues long enough for me to abseil out of the freezer, bouncing on my toes, and moaning quietly as my thighs meet again. Squeezing my tenting excitement between them. Standing up straight, I turn to see four shoppers looking very guilty. They are all suddenly very interested in the nearest display, and my already hot face burns brighter.

They saw me. They saw all of it. Everywhere the breeze tickled, was seen by the small crowd. I whimper and curse myself at the same time. Humiliating. Shameful.

So, so hot.

I press the frozen treats against my burning belly, and scamper toward the check-out. These better be the best fucking Cornettos ever made. I pull my phone out of the bag to rant about chest freezers being too tall, when I see that the group chat is blowing up.

Brow creased, I open it. My brow raises as I hold the phone to my chest.

She sent them a screenshot of the messages.

Whimpering, I look at the conversation.

Frankie: :'D LOOOOOOOOOLLL!!!

Bella: No way.

Bella: How did you not notice the mess on your thighs?

Eliza: Or your diamond-hard nips?

Frankie: I guess the signs just went over her head.

Bella: LOL.

Short jokes? Really Frankie? I lower my phone and chuckle. It can't be that serious if they're taking the piss. It's not like it's the end of the world or anything.

I'm just a little ashamed for being so blatantly horny, and embarrassed I didn't notice sooner. Would I have changed anything if I had noticed? I'm not even really covering up now, so I guess not.

It just feels like a strange thing to get worked up over. Is it the exposure? The attention?

What the hell is getting me so damn excited?

Pulling up the chat, I linger in the central path and hope for a calming distraction.

Daisy: This doesn't feel very supportive. :'(

Daisy: @BellaDonerKebab... I thought it was sweat.

Eliza: LOL.

Bella: LOL.

Bella: I'm dead.

Frankie: LFMAO.

Frankie: Funniest shit ever.

Why are they laughing? There's so much sensory overload, it's hard to keep track of everything. Sometimes one thing feels like two other things. Not to mention the insane rush I've had since... since... I humped cute suit guy's leg for an hour on the train. Oh fuck, I'm so stupid.

Daisy: Not helping.

Eliza: Get the fucking Cornettos.

Frankie: And a mop. lol.

Frankie: P. S @<3DaisyHart<3 If it helps, I'm soaking too.

Frankie: My googly eyes fell off ages ago.

Bella: Seriously, don't stress about it.

Bella: You've been wet since the train, Daisy. The only difference between then and now is you knowing about it.

Bella: Accept it and start having fun with it.

Bella: But not too much fun, you filthy degenerate.

Bella has a point, I suppose. Everyone else has known the whole time, and I was still having the time of my life. Now I know that they know. Can I make that fun somehow? I don't even know which parts of this I enjoy.

I switch back to the chat with Eliza.

Daisy: Why do I love this so much?

Daisy: Why does it turn me on?

I plod slowly toward the check-out. There's a long queue for the cashier, and a short, fast moving queue at the self checkout. I drag my heels toward the self checkout watching the three dots in the chat appear, then vanish several times.

Eliza is giving her response a lot of thought.

Eliza: A girl who felt invisible now feels seen.

Eliza: A girl who felt unattractive now feels desired.

Eliza: A girl who hasn't had sex in one year and four months was grinding on a pretty boy on the train.

Is that really all there is? I do feel seen. I feel sexy. He was very cute. Not as cute as Jamie, but who is, really? Oh I would grind on him so hard. Can you imagine if Jamie saw me? He walks into this store and bumps right into me?

My thighs and stomach tense.

What if he told everyone? The word about my lewdness spread around my co-workers, and they whisper about it behind my back. Or in front of my face. Daisy the slut. Pictures of me being shared in secret. The coil around my heart tugs. I feel a yearning in my gut, heavy like guilt, but warm and fluttery like a crush.

Daisy: I just fantasised about my nudes being shared at work.

Daisy: What the fuck is wrong with me?

Eliza: Where are the fucking Cornettos?

Daisy: THEY'RE COMING!

Daisy: Fuck. I'm waiting at the self-checkout.

The three dots appear, then vanish. I shouldn't have yelled. I start typing my apology, but I'm interrupted.

Eliza: Go to the cashier, instead.

Daisy: That Q is slower. Longer.

Eliza: Do it.

I shrug and join the cashier queue. Leaning to scan along the line, there's six people in front of me all waiting for some grandad to fish the exact change out of his leather pouch.

Daisy: I'm in the Q.

Daisy: seven of us waiting for someone to count his pennies.

Eliza: Good.

Eliza: Is the cashier male or female?

I lean around the shoppers to check. Catching a good look at the guy behind the til. Ugly branded shirt, thick glasses, and a barely visible bald spot when he tilts his head down.

Daisy: Male. Looks about forty.

Eliza: Excellent.

Eliza: When you're paying.

Eliza: I want you to tell him how wet you are.

I sigh and stare at the ceiling. I should have known there would be something.

Daisy: Why. The fuck. Would I do that?

Eliza: It's a test.

Eliza: Pay attention to your cunt.

Eliza: Tell me if it twitches or not.

Shaking my head, I slip my phone back into my bag. Sometimes I wonder about that girl. I mean, yeah... she's always got my best interests at heart, and she pushes me in ways no one else ever has. If anyone else tried, I think she might slash their tires.

This seems... transgressive. Bella says we have an oddly close relationship, but I don't think she get's it. Eliza is more than my best friend. She's my sister. No one in the world could know me better. Admittedly, there is a lot of touching, but it's never sexual.

No one gets that.

I watch the old man shuffle toward the exit. Turning to face the doors, I wait to see if he looks back. Do I want him to? Of course you do, Daisy. You little attention whore.

I want them all to look.

The queue is filing out in rapid fire now. The bottleneck is gone, and in a few seconds I'll be face to rosy face with the cashier.

I scratch my mound. It doesn't itch, I just want to get my focus ready. Lock it in.

How are my bits feeling? Hot. Wet. Swollen.

Shit, have they got bigger since I last checked? I pull on the skin and lean over to check.

Yup. I'm doomed.

The last buffer between myself and the cashier exits the store and the poor man double takes. Eyes drift to my tits, heaving in my eager breaths. For once, being short has an upside. The counter blocks the view of my slick thighs and engorged lips.

I place the box on the counter. "Just these and a smile, please," I say, flashing a grin.

His gaze narrows, and he gives the quickest, most sarcastic toothless smile I have ever seen. It could win an award.

"Five pound, please," he says.

I pull the card from my bag and swipe it over the machine.

"I'm very wet," I say, picking up the ice-cream.

He just nods and turns to the next customer. I cringe, but I don't feel anything. No surge of arousal.

Daisy: No twitching.

Eliza: I thought not.

Eliza: It was worth checking.

Eliza: Come back to the park.

Eliza: Oh, don't answer now. I want the answer in person. But I have a request. A favour.

Eliza: I want to post that selfie on the NND subreddit.

Eliza: Can I?

Daisy: I'm sorry... What?

Daisy: You want to post my nudes online?

Daisy: Why?

Daisy: Are you insane?

Daisy: Eliza...

She's leaving me on read. What the fuck? I stare at the messages as I stroll back to the traffic lights. The answer is obviously no. That would be up there forever. My stupid grin, and total ignorance of the reservoir of degeneracy in my lack-of-pants. I slip the phone back into my bag and press the cold box against my stomach.

Anyone could see it. Copy it. Download it. Share it. That picture has my face in it. What if my boss finds it?

Wait...

How many pictures have been taken of me already? Are there videos?

Is it too late?

Are candid pics of me already gaining views? Exactly how many people have seen me?

Hundreds?

My thighs clench and that constant ache swells. Just for a moment. Just enough to make me gasp.

Oooh. I see her game. Get me thinking about it to see if it triggers anything. It definitely did. That's bad, though. Right? That's the kind of hobby that can destroy your life. The kind of thing that follows you around. Imagine getting a new job, and everyone there has already seen everything about you. I gasp again.

Uh oh.

I might be in trouble.

The traffic lights shift and I make my way back to the park. Imagining millions of views on the post. What if that's the only way I can feel like I have today? What if chasing that high leads me to complete exposure? Oh gods.

I wouldn't even charge for it. Just post it completely free for everyone. Fuck, I could print them on birthday cards. Happy birthday, here's a close-up of my fanny. When I reach the picnic table, I throw the box at Eliza.

"THERE'S YOUR DAMN CORNETTO," I yell, gripping my hair in both fists. "Why would you make me think about that? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Eliza smirks. "We have a winner," she says, pulling the mint-chocolate cone from the box and offering it.

I snatch the cone. "Winner my ass," I say, pouting. "Obviously, the answer is no. But fuck you for making me want it."

"Have we missed something?" Bella asks, accepting the chocolate cone from Eliza. "Why is tiny-slimy all agitated?"

Frankie laughs. "Tiny-slimy. Priceless," she says, taking the strawberry cone and pointing at me with it. "She's definitely wetter now."

Eliza waves her Cornetto at me. "I asked if I could post her nudes online," she says. "Her brain says no, but her cunt says sploosh."

"Having your nudes online isn't that bad," Frankie says, biting the bottom off the cone. "I've had mine up for a couple of years now. No one cares."

Bella rolls her eyes. "Frankie. You're a model. Nude and semi nude is literally part of your job."

Frankie shrugs and lays back on the table. "I'm bored," she says, before sucking the entire Ice-cream through the hole in the cone.

I watch them eat their ice cream. Bella taking long, slow licks around the edge. Eliza bites small chunks, letting her tongue slip out after each one to clean her lips. Frankie has already stuffed the empty cone into her mouth. She looks like a hamster with her puffed out cheeks. Looking at my Cornetto, melting over my fingers, I lick the cone before switching hands to suck my fingers clean. My tongue pressing against them. Circling around them. Soft lips sealing them inside. I whimper.

I am so horny.

I pull my fingers from my mouth. Slick with saliva, and primed for insertion. Glancing around, there's no one here but us. I could just slide them in and take care of myself. Who cares what anyone thinks. Maybe Eliza could film it for me, send it to Jamie and say 'wish you were here' as a caption. Would he even like that? Unsolicited nudes are pretty cringe, and public finger-banging vids are definitely not banging.

Is Jamie still what I want? Will he even notice the change in me?

What if I get dressed tomorrow and become who I was?

I sit on the grass and sigh. "How do I go back from this?" I ask, licking the soft, minty cream. "How can I just get dressed, knowing how incredible this makes me feel?"

Bella chuckles. "If you were naked all the time," she says, cocking her brow. "I'm pretty sure you'd become a contributing factor to rising ocean levels."

"Tiny-slimy," Frankie chirps, thrusting a fist into the air. She props herself up onto her elbows to look at me. "You know, there's an entire category of porn that's just pretty girls walking around busy streets completely naked."

My eyes widen. "I did not know that."

"Don't put ideas in her lust-addled head," Bella says, slapping Frankie's thigh.

Frankie throws out a loud, exaggerated moan. "Thank you, Miss Bella."

"Fuck off," Bella says, covering her mouth as she chews and giggles.

How much do they pay? Is travel included? Would I be expected to do sexual things, or just strut around naked? Because, if it's the latter? Sign me the fuck up.

"Frankie, can you send me some links later?" I ask, stuffing the last of the cone into my mouth.

Eliza glares at me. "For rubbing, or are you thinking about a career change?"

I lie back in the grass, rest my head on my hands, and stare up at the cloudless sky. Everything is so clear, and the sun embraces me. Comforts me. The delightful heat beaming down onto my chest, while my back feels cold beneath me, sheltered from the haze.

The tension in me wanes. The ache dulls into the background.

The high crashes.

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. Even my nipples, which have been rock hard all day, are now soft. I guess that's it then. No more fun for Daisy. No more lustful stares. I pull my phone out of my pocket and browse the NND photos on reddit and insta. Doom scrolling just hoping, praying that I find a candid shot of me.

Proof that I was seen.

Nothing except the memories.

It can't end like this. Just... fizzle.

"So... are you guys done?" I ask, keeping my eyes closed. The thought that there could be more people looking is the only thing keeping me going right now.

I'm not done.

Not even close.

"Tell me."

"Why go through all the hassle of coming out here naked, to just hide away in a park?" I ask, meeting Eliza's gaze. "Was that the whole plan? Or am I the only one who is... was enjoying herself?"

"The only thing I've really enjoyed was watching you," Bella says. "I'm quite ready to throw my dress back on and go home."

"Really? You feel nothing? Nothing today excited you at all?"

Bella sighs. "I suppose, if I'm being honest, there was a brief twinge. Not enough to risk my career over."

Frankie puts her hand up. "Still wet. Still bored."

"So let's do something," I say, sitting up. "We could have a few drinks? A pub lunch? That's gotta be better than... well..."

I wave my hands at the empty park. "... This."

"I get what you're saying, but I have a shoot tomorrow," Frankie says, patting her flat stomach. "I'm contractually obliged to fast for 48 hours. I already cheated with that ice-cream. I can't risk the bloat."

I groan and fall back onto the grass. "There's always next year, I suppose."

A gust of wind sends a shimmer of recollection over my skin. I close my eyes and let my body talk. The grass tickles one side of me as it flutters in the breeze. I miss the heat. The tension.

I want the ache back.

Picking up my phone again, I scroll to the selfie I took. So happy. I smile, but I'm envious of my past self. So wet. I chuckle and zoom in on my thighs. Sweat, my cute ass. I can actually see my clit poking out a little if I really zoom in. I flick the image around.

I can't imagine ever being that happy again. Do I really have to wait a whole year?

My phone buzzes to life, making me jump. John's calling me?

Laying back on the grass, I put my phone to my ear. "I'm on holiday," I say, before he has chance to say anything.

"Daisy, thank fuck you answered," he blurts, sounding more stressed than usual. "I'm so sorry, but are you still in the city? Shit. Fan. I need cover. Please, Daisy."

"I am in the city, but," I glance at my sun-warmed body. "I'm not really dressed... appropriately."

"Daisy, don't worry about that. Just come in. Sam is on the way, but it'll be two hours minimum. Jess isn't answering. Tara quit via text message, and Mary just scalded herself."

I sit upright. "Oh, fuck. Is Mary okay?"

"She'll live, but we sent her to A&E. Can you make it here before the lunch rush?"

"Uh, let me check and I'll confirm via text asap."

I hang up the phone and stand up. Everyone is looking at me. I glance at the phone in my hand, then Eliza, and finally at my filthy feet. Wriggling my toes in the grass. Bella would lend me the dress in her bag if I asked for it. I pull up my phone and type out a message.

Daisy: Can I just get a written confirmation? I'm really not dressed.

Daisy: It's definitely a code violation.

BossyBoss: Just come in whatever you're wearing. I'm not going to give you shit for bailing me out, Daisy.

That's permission from my boss to go into work naked. I doubt he meant that, but... am I really considering this? That's work. I'll have to go back in there tomorrow, and every day after. Unless John fires me. Which he won't do today. He can't run the place solo, and we all know it. Two hours at work, completely nude, during the lunch rush. The absolute busiest part of the day.

"Are you going to tell us, or just stare pensively at your phone?" Eliza asks.

I look at each of the staring, expectant faces. Settling on Eliza. "There was an emergency at work," I say, watching Eliza realise what I'm i'm thinking in real time.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Absolutely not."

I smile and shrug. "I'm leaning towards yes," I say. "You guys were basically done with nude day. I was the only one who wanted more." I wave my phone at her. "The universe just provided more."

"Daisy, that's real life," Bella says, sliding her backpack off. "I brought spare clothes for a reason. Take them."

I don't want the clothes. I want to be naked. I love being naked. If I was able to, I think I'd spend the rest of my life in the buff. Just throw all my clothes away. I don't care if I get fired, or about my co-workers seeing me. I want them to see me. I want to see Jamie's jaw drop. I want Sam to gossip. I want pictures of me hung up on the wall. To bend over the tables knowing my lips are spread and leaking.

I want them to fantasise about taking me.

"I'll get more tips if I don't," I say, winking. "Besides, John said to come in whatever I was wearing. I'm obligated to follow his instructions."

Frankie smiles and nods. "Mhmm. Malicious compliance. I love it."

"Don't encourage her," Bella snaps. "Eliza, do something."

"Do you plan on walking there?" Eliza asks, flicking her gaze down. "Like that? All wet thighs with a wide on?"

I turn to face her, taking a step forward. "Thought I'd take the bus, actually. The lunch rush will be kicking off soon. I need to get there asap."

"Daisy, stop thinking with your snatch for a minute," Bella says, dropping her bag on the floor. "You're going to have to go back there tomorrow, and have everyone talking about the time you turned up to work naked."

Shifting my weight, I grit my teeth to fight the quiver that sentence caused.

Eliza narrows her gaze. "That's the point, isn't it?" she asks, cutting right through me. "You want them to talk. They wouldn't dream of a world where adorable, shy Daisy Hart would strut around the city naked."

"It might be bad to have them talk, it might not," I say, shifting my glance between them all. "I think it would be much worse to go back and have none of them know who I am now."

Bella falls back onto the table and holds her head. "She's lost to us. Our adorable Daisy is now for the streets."

"You know that people don't notice me. Look at me," I say, thrusting my arms out wide and looking down. "I'm tiny, and constantly compared to all of you. That's not your fault, and you know I don't blame you, but it's the truth."

I point toward the FIDL.

"No one bumped into me. They certainly didn't ignore me. For the first time since we were kids, I was noticed. Fuck, I was ogled. Me. The girl hidden from the world by genetics and the average height of people's eyes."

I shrug and let my shoulders fall. "Maybe it is in my head, and I was never invisible," I say, glancing at Eliza. "All I know is, the moment I stopped being afraid of being seen, I found the change I have been yearning for."

Frankie hops off the table and gives me a hug. "We've always seen you, tiny-slimy."

I chuckle. "Is that seriously going to become a new nickname?"

"Only all the time," Frankie says, kissing my head. "If you want to do this, I think you should do it."

Bella rolls her eyes. "Frankie, you are a terrible enabler."

Frankie chuckles and flicks Bella's nipple. "Not true. I'm very good at it. It's her body, her life, her choice."

Eliza takes a sharp inhale through her nose. "What about Jamie?" she asks. "He might see you and run a mile. This might ruin your chances."

"That would suck," I say, nodding. "It's been a year, sis. Something needs to change, or nothing ever will."

"You're absolutely sure?" Eliza asks. "I'm telling you not to do it."

"I'm going anyway," I say. "And you can post that selfie if you want. I look fucking fabulous."

"Yes, you do." Eliza shrugs and turns to Bella. "She's determined."

"I am."

I give Frankie a squeeze before walking to Bella and wrapping my arms around her. "Thank you, and I love you," I whisper. "I'm sorry."

Bella squeezes me. "You know we're coming with you, right?"

I step back. "Actually, I'd prefer it if you three incomparably beautiful women didn't steal my naked thunder."

I give Eliza a massive, very firm hug. "You've got my keys, remember? Would you mind waiting for me?"

She pulls me in and rests her cheek on my head. "If your life implodes, you can live with me as my naked house cat. I'll feed you all the best nibbles."

"Better not get cheap with the damn nibbles," I say, nuzzling into her. "Thank you for pushing me."

Eliza breaks the hug and stares at her phone again. "Go on, fuck off," she says, glancing up with a smirk."

I flick her nipple. "I want a fancy collar too," I say, walking backwards and waving. "Love you guys. See ya."

Then, I find myself walking out of the park again. It's a surreal feeling. Like my feet are moving on their own. My hands sway without thought, or input from me at all. I'm carried forward by automatic movements, as if my subconscious is driving. I'm floating through the streets toward the bus stop. My focus is on my body, and everything that's happening to it. The way my hand raises to wave at every honking car, or how I smile at every glance or stare. The phantom warmth of brushing past someone. When a hand or arm brushes against my skin.

I wonder if they can feel my heat.

When I reach the bus stop, the LED sign tells me the bus will be five minutes, so I pull my phone out and text John an update. Partial update. I don't want to mention the nudity. He agreed to it, but I still don't think he knows exactly what he agreed to. I can't wait to see the look on his face. On Jamie's face. The customers too.

Oh fuck, the customers. Those awkward, flirty comments. My heart flutters as I think about it. I chew my smile thinking about Jamie. I wonder if cute suit guy is still thinking about me? Will Jamie have the same reaction? Fully hard with furtive glances. If he doesn't make a move now, at least I'll know.

My nipples stiffen. Sam will be there soon. Little miss blabber-mouth. She'll tell everyone. The whole city will know. It's funny. Last night I was adamant she shouldn't find out about it for the exact reason I can't wait to happen.

The bus turns the corner, and I put my hand up to signal, enjoying the firmness of my breast as it moves with me. The driver gapes at me while I pay, and the bus full of people stare as I grab a handle. I smile at them, then fish my phone out and pretend I'm reading. Not reading. Watching. All the looks, the sneers, the licked lips. The hidden expressions they think they're doing behind my back.

I relish them all. I lean against the baggage rack as the bus jerks underway; the metal bar shudders and shakes with the engine. Stealing glances at my audience, I notice there are phones pointed at me. I flash a big grin and throw up a peace sign with my hand. Yes, I've seen you. No, I don't mind at all. I don't care that I'm being filmed. I don't care that I have no control at all over that footage. My engine revs, and I feel my stomach tensing.

Shifting my weight, I press my thighs together. Slick. Sensitive.

I'm open and I know it.

The bus gets me to the stop closest to the cafe, and I take pause. What am I doing? What am I about to do?

This is it.

The point of no return.

I can't ever go back if I do this.

That's not true. I couldn't go back the moment I stepped onto my street this morning. So, I walk toward the cafe. Head high. Every inch of me revealed, heart and skin laid bare. Every escalation has led me here. I would have been disappointed if the day didn't end this way. If I wasn't completely and irrevocably exposed. I pass the tables on the street, still empty. The tables inside are full, and the people sitting by the windows gawk at me, mouths falling open as I walk through the door.

All the conversation ends. A dozen people staring in silence. A chair squeaks on the tile. I smile and weave through the tables toward the back. John stands behind the register. He turns, locks his eyes on me, and they widen as the realisation hits. His face turns red, and he grabs my wrist and drags me into the back.

"Why are you naked?" he asks, whisper-shouting at me.

"You said to come in whatever I was wearing," I say, gesturing to myself. "This is what I was wearing."

"Okay, but why are you naked?" he repeats, rubbing his forehead.

"It's national nude day?" I shrug. "I told you I wasn't dressed."

"You... did say that," he says, looking out at the customers. "I thought you were wearing a short skirt or... or... flip-flops. I didn't think you meant literally."

"Well, I'm here now," I say. "And I'm all you've got, but if you'd prefer, I can just go home?"

"No... no. I can't deal with the rush on my own. We're going to be talking about this at length. You can bet on that," he says, shaking his head as he scans my body. I smirk as he lingers on my breasts. "I mean, where do we even put your name badge?"

A fair point. It's sounding a lot like this will be my last day, after all. So, why not go out with a bang? Push my own boundaries for a change, instead of relying on Eliza to know what I'm comfortable with.

I hold up a finger to John and walk out to the reception desk. "Sorry, we'll be with you in a second," I say to the growing line of customers. I fish out the marker pen from the pot beneath the counter and take it back to John.

"Right about here should do it," I say, pointing to my left breast. "It'll be neater if you write it."

He takes the marker and stares at it for a moment. "Daisy... what's going on?" he asks, shifting his gaze from the pen to my eyes. "Did somebody give you something? Do you know where you are? What's happening?"

I widen my eyes and move my head closer. "I'm not on drugs, boss. It's really just comedic timing, that's all," I say. "The festival in the city? Was a nude one. I went with some friends, and we left our clothes at home. That's the whole story."

I nod toward the marker. "People are waiting, so grab a tit and start writing."

I rise on my toes and puff my chest out.

"This is sexual harassment," he says, pulling the cap off the marker. "But who would believe me?"

Holding the marker like a scalpel, and doing everything he can to avoid brushing against me, John scrawls my name above my breast. I flush as the marker scratches slightly, and leaves a tingle as it passes. Each letter of my name throbs and pulses, but it's John's breath on my chest that fuels my need more than anything. My skin prickles with each warm, damp wave of pressure against me.

Gods, touch me. Feel the heat. I fight against my shuddering breaths as he inspects his handiwork.

Or is he just looking at my tits? My nipples pinch themselves under his scrutiny.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, putting the cap on the marker and looking out at the cafe. "It's going to get very busy, and I can't man the til and keep their hands off you."

His compassion. Consideration. It's the excuse I needed to escalate. I don't give him the chance to complain, or even turn his head. I skip forward and wrap my arms around him.

Pressing my heat against him, I squeeze him and feel his cock stir against my belly.

I am powerful.

I am desirable.

"I'm sure," I say, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for looking out for me, boss."

Grabbing a pad and pen from behind the counter, I stride back into the room full of waiting tables.

"Sorry about the wait, everyone," I announce, feeling everyone's attention shift onto me. They were already looking, but now they had permission. "If we could obey the honour system and let me know who's been waiting the longest, I'll get to everyone as soon as I can."

I follow the chain of hands and comments, writing a list of table numbers to work through. The length of the list excites me. More than just a list of numbers, it's a checklist of exposure. I'm going to interact with every number, speak to them, joke with them, and they're going to look at me. All of me.

Every part of me is flushed, and I know why. I know I'm horny. So do they. Every polite stammer, or lingering gaze. I watch the eyes as they drink me in, drawn to the parts of me they know they shouldn't be looking at, but can't help themselves. Those are the parts I need them to see. I shift my weight as I focus on my pad, scribbling away as though I weren't naked. As though I wasn't wearing a bag that framed my spreading slit.

As though I hadn't split my legs just enough to give a better view.

I approach the first number on my list. "Hi, there," I say to the middle-aged couple at the table, tapping my 'name badge' with my pen, and flashing the biggest grin I can. "My name's Daisy, and I'll be the server for today. What can I get you?"

The couple politely order their coffees and food, which I dutifully note on my pad. I smirk as the husband buries his head in the menu. Making a show of not looking. Though his wife made no such attempt, scanning me fully and nodding.

"I was wild like you," she says, matching my smile. "Never went to work starkers, mind you, but I streaked on my first day of uni with all the other freshers. It's exhilarating, isn't it?"

I nod emphatically. "I was terrified until I wasn't," I say, lowering my hands to my side. "I feel like I'm connecting with my body more than I ever have."

She taps her husband. "She's very pretty, isn't she?"

He clears his throat. "I'm not stupid enough to anser that question," he says, with a chuckle. "What I will say is that I wish I had even half her courage."

"Aw, he's bashful," I say, with a little giggle. "I'll get your order sorted as soon as I can."

With a curtsey, I weave my way through the tables toward the counter, passing the order to John. The take away queue is filling the middle row, and I have to squeeze through it to navigate. I feel clothes, errant hands brushing against me. Always with just enough ambiguity to call it an accident, no one dares touch me deliberately. I would tell them it's okay, but I enjoy watching them struggle with it.

The next is a table of four, three guys and one girl. All wearing the burgundy branded shirts of Camford University. Their orders come with a request for a selfie. I quickly glance around at the tables. With so many people here, how many of them would see this as an invitation? That's another escalation, and my core tightens with anticipation. It pulses when I say yes, and that aching itch drives me deeper into my lust when my slick thighs press together to get into the pose.

More pictures of me. I have no control over what they do with them, and I have no idea why that excites me so much. They huddle together, and I stand just behind them. Big smile. I think I've smiled more today than I have in years. When the giggling and laughter spreads over their table, I realise that my body can bring joy to more than just myself. That's another power I would have never known about.

I pass through the queue again, pausing for another selfie on the way through.

"I'm happy to pose for pictures, but could you let me serve the customers first?" I ask the room. "As soon as I get on top of it, I'm all yours. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that," someone says, a voice from the corner of the room.

"You'll keep your hands to yourself," another adds.

I bite my lip and deliver the order, collecting a tray of items from the kitchen. The steam from the coffee heats and wets my breast, or is the heat mine? I'm not sure. The first table is grateful to finally have their food. I'm grateful to have another excuse to pass through the growing line of people in the aisle. I know their phones are pointed at me. Videos? Pictures? Live-stream?

It doesn't matter. Every time I push through, I brush against someone new. Every step I take presses my slickened thighs and rubs my cresting clit. My slit and eyes are open. The tension in my stomach grows with each glance, each touch, and it all feels just perfect.

I work down my list, while John tries to usher the take-away queue to the side. The cafe is filling up. No one wants to leave.

"Who knew my outfits were so bad for business?" I quip to John as I deliver another order to the kitchen.

I grab the tray and weave my way back to the students. Bending to lower the tray to the table, the door opens and a gust of my old friend teases me. Reminds me of what I'm showing. A quiet moan slips out of me, heard by no one except the students. I pick my tray up and wiggle my brow before moving back through the crowd again. A surge of the ache jolts through me and my knees give way.

The empty tray clatters to the ground.

The applause starts. A British custom. My already flushed features burn a shade brighter as I crouch to pick the tray up, making eye contact with a seated customer. Watching his gaze flick between my over-stimulated thighs. My heart stalls for a beat, and I turn my face away. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before standing up with my reclaimed tray.

I give a curtsey to the applauding masses and return the tray to the counter. Taking a moment to steady myself, to calm the yearning ache in my core. My folds are open, soaked in sensation. My pulse throbs in my ears and between my legs.

Deep, steady breaths. I almost have it under control until I step out into the cafe and the eyes lock onto me. My pulse spikes. Everything is a haze of note taking and smiles. Pretending I can't feel every movement, every glance, every brushed hand against my searing skin, and the way they all tighten the coil in my gut. The itch in my core. The ache in my heart.

I gasp every time I press my legs together to squeeze through the crowd. Moan a little when I weave around tables. Bending over the tables to wipe them down when the few customers who decide to leave finally vacate, I know what I'm showing. I can't help myself. I arch my back to show more.

I don't care if they film me. My little wet slit posted who knows where, shown to who knows how many.

My stomach spasms as my nipples graze the table. I moan. I twitch.

Standing up, everyone is smirking at me. That was not a quiet moan. I purse my lips and scamper back to collect another order. I wait by the pass, not for the customer's order. That's there, and ready to be carried away. I need to give myself time to cool off. A quiet gasp or whimper is one thing, but moaning out loud? The friction between my legs is too much. I hadn't anticipated this, how could I? As excited as I've been all day. As wet as I've been. I didn't think it meant this.

If this keeps going, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop it.

I grab the tray and take a few deep breaths to control myself. Don't think about how good it feels. Don't think about them watching. Don't think about the incredible pressure on your overstimulated clit.

I whimper and walk back out into the cafe, thinking about all of those things. The sliding. That beautiful pulsing ache spreading through my core. The soft tap of every bare-footed step on the cold floor, the increasingly brazen hands that brush against my overwhelmingly hot skin. The glimmer of sweat that clings and glistens to every inch of my naked skin. The way Jamie is gaping at me as I serve the customers.

Shit.

I put the tray down and turn toward the entrance. Jamie is staring at me. Wide eyed, jaw slack. I glance down.

Cock stiffening as we don't-speak.

I bite my lip and turn back to the customers. "Sorry about the wait," I say, stealing glances at Jamie.

Still frozen. Still gawking. Oh, fuck yes.

Picking up the tray, I waddle over to him. I have to stop him staring. He has to leave. I can't. Not in front of him. Them, maybe. But him? Jamie?

The year long ache.

My crush.

"Are you going to say anything, or just stand in the way?" I ask, struggling to keep my excitement under control.

His mouth opens, then closes. He breathes. "Daisy," he whispers. "You're... naked."

I step closer to him. "Jamie," I whisper. "I know."

I slap him playfully on the arm. "Get to work, we're slammed."

He nods slowly. I turn to head back to the kitchen, looking over my shoulder to see if he's still checking me out. My pulse skyrockets.

He is.

With nothing in the kitchen to deliver just yet, I head back out to check on everyone. Brushing past Jamie on his way into the kitchen. Looking up at him as he passes, I press myself closer. I let the moment linger. I savour it. My eyes close and I whimper as a pulse erupts. I grasp his shirt to steady myself.

Oh shit.

That was close.

"Are you okay?" he asks, helping me to my feet.

His hand is on my hip, and I want to answer. I have so many things I want to say to him. I think you're pretty and very kind.

Please put your dick in me.

None of the words form in my mouth. Thoughts don't form in my head. All I can think about is the incredible ache in my loins, and his fucking hand on my hip. Does he know?

Is it on purpose?

I grip his shirt tighter and pull myself closer. My breasts press into him. On my toes, my lips are close to his. I look at his lips and lick mine. Every breath I take is laced with my arousal. A quiver. A moan.

"I've... fuck... I think you're so fucking pretty," I sigh. "But I'm going to make a mess if you don't take your hand off my hip."

He glances at his hand, then back at me. Slowly peeling his fingers free.

I miss his touch. Why did I say that?

"Sorry," he says, pulling away from me. Pointing toward the kitchen, he just walks away. "To be continued?"

I fold over and rest my hands on my knees. "It fucking better be."

"Hey daisy," he calls from the kitchen door. "Can I walk you home later?"

I don't look up, I can't. If I move I'm going to flood the cafe. I'm sure of it. I just nod my head and breathe.

Like I'm about to give birth. Get it together.

Keep it together.

I stand up and take one last deep breath before stepping back out to the tables. The polite service portion of the job.

"Is everything to your liking?"

"Do you need anything else?"

The crowd in the centre has grown. Moving from one side to the other is like getting to the bar in a busy nightclub. I push through, but there are more dangling hands, and none of them seem keen to move them. If they touched me, that would be wrong, but letting me graze against them? That's acceptable in their minds.

I free up some space and wave my hands to get their attention. "If you're not waiting to buy something, could you please take your take-away... you know... away?"

"Do you have time for those selfies now?" A man in the queue asks, waving his phone at me.

I glance at the pass to make sure there's no food waiting. There isn't, so I smile at the man.

"Absolutely," I say, stepping next to him. "I can spare five minutes for paying customers to take a selfie."

The man turns his phone around and points it at us. His arm is around me, but not touching me. I glance at it, then up at him.

"Are you going to show this picture to anyone?" I ask.

"Yes, if that's okay?"

"It's fine, but my guy," I say, nodding toward his hand. "People are going to rip into you for that hover-hand."

I grab his hand and pull it onto me. The tingle fills my awareness as I smile for the picture. That was the catalyst, and soon everyone waiting in line is waving their phone at me. I go one at a time, letting each of them get their picture.

Letting each of them touch me.

Every new hand on my back is a new wave of excitement. Some test the limits, stretching fingers around to the side of my breast. I feel my core clench and twitch.

Why am I like this?

It's taking everything I have to keep from sounding out. The crowd does disperse a little after they get their pictures, but more just pile through the door.

"Holy shit, it's real," one says, staring right at me.

"I didn't believe it, but there she is." Another says, turning around to point his phone at himself, with me in the background. "Check it out guys, I'm here at a Borough Blend. The naked waitress is real, and she's hot."

"And wet," another voice chimes in.

I purse my lips and waddle to the kitchen. Has word spread? I pull my phone from my bag and check my messages. The group chat is blowing up. It's full of links to posts about me. Pictures of me. The cafe. Everything.

Oh gods.

I wander back to the counter and the flustered John. "I'm sorry," I say, showing him my phone. "I think I'm going viral."

He looks at the posts. "So, you're telling me that hundreds of thousands of people have seen pictures of you and the name of my cafe?"

I nod. "It seems that way."

"We've made more money in the last hour than we did last week. Total," He says, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me. "Daisy, I could fucking kiss you."

Hundreds of thousands of people.

Hundreds. Of. Thousands.

What the fuck, Daisy?

I put my phone away and add it to the list of things I'm trying not to think about.

This is a whole new level of exposed. I'm trapped. I can't even think about if I want it. If I need it. Just the thought of it makes my eager slit throb. I push out past the new wave of customers. My new audience, all here for the memes and throwing more clips of me into the void.

More and more will see me. I collect the empty dishes from a table, scampering through the new age paparazzi. My stomach coils tighter as I move back to wipe down the table. The cold metal pressed on my burning breasts. My arse jiggling with every swipe of my cloth. My engorged folds spread and pulsing.

"Oh... gods... No... no no no."

Gripping the table, I hold my breath. Fight it. Fight. It.

Even with my eyes closed, I can see the flashes. I hear them muttering, streaming. I can feel their gaze on my saturation. It quakes with my attention. I can't focus on anything else.

It's too late.

I bite into my arm in a futile attempt to silence myself, but when the room goes black, I know it's too late. My legs buckle and I'm held only by my fingers clenching in ecstasy around the rim of the table. The coil in my gut bursts and all the tension ripples through me. Electric. I can feel nothing but my muscles spasming in the cold air, and the metal table warming beneath my fever.

Am I still moaning?

Are they still watching?

Filming?

I slowly remember where my feet are and shakily place them on the floor. Swallowing. Gasping. Sweat dripping onto the table as I stand, checking the floor to make sure I didn't just gush all over everything. I sigh contentedly before turning around to see everyone watching me in silence. Phones recording. Mouths open.

I blush, not that anyone could tell. The sex-flush was already in full bloom. "Sorry about that," I say, finding the cloth and wiping the table again. Scampering out to the kitchen again, shooting a very apologetic glance at John. To my relief, he's laughing with the customers about it.

"What can I say," he says. "She really loves her job."

The rest of the day flows in a blissful haze. I'm so euphoric, I even work the entire shift. Not just the rush John asked me to cover. Of course, when Sam turns up, she already knows everything. She'd seen every post. So had everyone. Eliza, Frankie, Bella.

Jamie had a front-row seat.

When John had finally kicked the last customer out, I flop into a chair and stare at the ceiling.

"So, how fired am I?" I ask, when the door was locked.

John tosses the keys in his hand a couple of times. Staring at them, then at Sam. His gaze finally settles on me.

"You wanna do this again next year?"

"Fuck yes."