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He waited, started to talk to the young man. I did not listen, tried to brace myself for the embarrassment. Slowly I crouched down. I didn't really need to pee. I wanted to say that, but stayed silent. Once we were airborne there would be no opportunity anymore. And he had given me an order, so I had to try.Blocking out the people around me was hard. I concentrated on mental images that contained water, flowing water, the sea, a waterfall. That did the trick in the end. Clearly visible – and audible - I pissed on the ground. My cheeks burned with shame as I looked around for some leaves. None again. I wriggled my ass to shake off the droplets.“That's my girl.” My owner smiled down on me, petted my head before I straightened up again. The pilot had opened a small door in the rear. In the semi darkness I could make out some kind of transport box. While I was led towards that door the young man approached us, held out two capsules and a glass of water. “Take these, and the flight. We reached one of those crossroads when the administration mandated how we, adults, had to act and dress. We’re hurting no one. We can make our own decisions. And I’m making mine. Will you join me?”With that, she pulled off her top, and stepped out of her shorts and panties. She stood defiantly, proudly, nude. We all followed suit. Most everyone was either nude or topless. There was cheering. And the party started.Teams formed for volleyball. Breasts and penises bounced and flopped as we swatted the ball. Guys and girls collided with each other, chasing errant volleyballs. Skin on skin only produced merriment and enhanced the visual delight. The slip and slides, coated with water, allowed naked bodies to hurtle forth, not slowed by friction against the fabric of bathing suits. Music blared and couples danced and moved unashamedly. We were having a great time.Mr. Pritchard, on the other hand, glowered at us from his second-floor window. He knew he was being defied. He.
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