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I could now recognize that there were very real advantages to this lifestyle. Everyone was on an equal footing, no one was able to hide their physical secrets, and you couldn’t be separated by the arbitrary distinctions of fashion—an odd thing to recognize for someone whose entire livelihood is based on that arbitrariness.

And from the purely animalistic side, I also preferred seeing women in the nude to seeing them in clothes. That may seem rather obvious to anyone of a hormonal age, but for me it was a revelation that not all women were Playboy models, yet were still quite enjoyable to look at. Not that women couldn’t be lovely in clothes, but after years of looking at them in tiny shreds of fabric designed to entice one to want more, I just wanted the more without all the teasing and falsity of enhancements. Honestly, there was nothing more appealing, or more attractive, than a human body—a female human body in particular—unadorned, and I was beginning to see no need to embellish it. And now, after only about a day here, public nudity did seem almost natural.

Almost.

Perhaps it was the fact that I was finally starting to see those around me as people rather than ‘nudists’, or perhaps I had just become overwhelmed with the endless sea of unmentionables. Whatever the case, it nonetheless surprised me that I was somehow becoming attuned with the environment around me. More comfortable, if not entirely comfortable.

I took another scan around the crowd looking for Ms. Waboombas, when a chorus of delighted female voices rose from those gathered near the stage, and I turned without much surprise to see that they were responding to River. He strutted before them, confident, and hung (I said I was not entirely comfortable), and took a turn around the platform to make sure anyone who hadn’t seen him before now would have their chance at a full, three-hundred-andsixty-degree view. As you can imagine, there wasn’t a woman in the crowd who wasn’t appreciative of his thoughtfulness.

“Isn’t he wonderful, folks?” Wisper called into the microphone, receiving a boisterous response. Then she turned to her other sibling, Petal, who smiled and shook her head in sisterly disbelief. “Our own, particular, little brother. Fortunately, its only two days, and you don’t have to live with him.”

River smirked at her, and the women who now crowded the stage mockingly booed her. Wisper laughed and stepped aside.

Satisfied with the reaction he had received, River glided over to stand proudly at the forefront of the stage, and in the back, Wisper held out a hand to accept bids.

“What am I…” she began, but was immediately cut off.

“ONE HUNDRED!”

“TWO HUNDRED!”

“TWO-FIFTY!”

The bidding raced on like that, uncontrolled, and unprompted, until a particularly loud voice cut through all the others…

“ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS!”

…and was followed by silence.

Every head turned and looked around for the source of the bid, and every eye in the place came to rest on Ms. Waboombas. Tall, exotically brown-skinned, regal, Wendy stood near the center, back of the crowd, and it parted to allow the new gunslinger a clear aim so no one in her path might accidentally be shot. With one bid, and four words, she had contained the raging flow of River frenzy and drawn every eye in the town down upon her, and her alone.

Surprisingly, she wasn’t naked. She wore a stunning, red evening gown, matching shoes, and jewelry. Her dress was elegant and tasteful, and cut in a style that showed only what needed to be seen and nothing more. She smiled, supremely confident, as every man in the area with a clear view dropped a jaw and craned his neck for a better view.

Even I had to admit, she was ravishing. Her make-up appeared to have been done professionally, and showed enormous restraint. Colors blended, accented, and highlighted, rather than stood out. Her hair was pulled back stylishly in a tight bun, and her lips were parted in a slight, knowing smile.

She was, once again, in complete control, and loving it.

Unfortunately, she was in control