Day one.
"I'm a tree!"
No, you're not, lady. You're just some crazy broad with a hairbrush phobia.
"And now I'm the wind!"
The crazy broad, standing straight, reaching for the ceiling, starts waving her arms and running back and forth, and all the crazy people around me do the same. Even Karen, but not before she's rammed her elbow in my side, forcing me to run around like a nutcase too.
"And now I'm the wind, embracing the tree."
She runs in ever smaller circles around herself, arms straight out in front of her as if she's running to meet a long-lost loved one, and when she stops she puts her arms around herself and caresses herself, running her hands up and down her body, her neck and her face.
"Hugging the tree, fondling the tree, making love to the tree."
Holy shit. Three days of this madness.
Day two.
The pamphlet said, 'On the second day, you'll learn to love your body without the imprisonment of clothing and shame'.
I took that to mean a bunch of hot, naked chicks doing no-holes-barred, misspelling intended, yoga positions on a sandy beach. I took it to mean that because that's exactly what the picture showed, and that's why I agreed with Karen's statement that this 'Nature Loves You; Mind And Body Retreat' would be good for us.
But this isn't like the picture at all.
Seven naked guys standing in a circle in a room without windows, where breakfast, if you can call it that, was served less than an hour ago, and the eighth guy, our "guru," a skinny guy in his sixties with a beard that would make Gandalf the Grey throw down his staff and run, standing naked in the middle.
"There is no shame here. No embarrassment. You're all beautiful. You're all attractive."
The guy is a fucking liar too.
"I want you all to close your eyes, and then reach out and touch the men standing beside you. Reach out, and touch the man on your right. Reach out, and touch the man on your left. Wherever feels right for you, put your hand on his shoulder, hold his hand, grab his ass, touch his chest. Don't think about it, let your instinctive self guide you, your instinctive self is always true to your feelings and your desires."
I feel someone's hand on my right shoulder, so I put my hand on his shoulder. I reach out to do the same to the guy on my left, but our hands bump into each other and he grabs mine and holds it, even interlocking fingers with me.
My instinctive self is telling me to pull my hand away and punch him in the face, but I don't.
"Now I want you all to breathe deep and calmly, and picture in your head the most erotic scene you can imagine. Whatever it is, your hottest fantasy, the thing your subconsciousness, free of inhibition, always turns to when you're pleasuring yourself. Are you with two women? A hundred women? Is your mom spanking you? Are you sucking a man's huge penis? See it. Feel it."
Yeah, that ain't happening, Gandalf.
I force my mind to see my car, which needs new brake pads according to the repair guy. My boss, who gave the promotion to that asshole Carl instead. Starving children in Africa. A burning building full of puppies. A young nun sucking my cock while the abbess fucks her hard with a strap-on.
What? No! Fuck. Shit. No, don't. Pleeaasee don't.
I feel my cock twitch and rise in mocking betrayal.
Stop it! Can't you see the children starving? Puppies are on fire, for crying out loud! The young nun is sliding her tight pussy down on my throbbing member.
Goddammit!
"Yes! That's it! You're beautiful! Open your eyes and see how beautiful you are! See the beauty of your fellow man."