The Guide

After spraying my naked body down, I threw on the light silk robe that wouldn't rub away the body foundation and ran down to the dock where Craig was helping Cale load equipment into the boat, a vague look of confusion on his face. I knew the day wouldn't improve his understanding.

Holt was spraying Braden down to his hips until he looked a shiny dark brownish orange, his perfectly sculpted pec and ab implants glistening in the sunlight. His arms were real, though they weren't as strong as they looked. Braden didn't care if his arms were strong, as long as they looked right.

Craig looked at me shivering on the shoreline as he walked back up to the lodge, and he did a slight doubletake. He probably hadn't recognized me. Most people don't realize how much of a difference photo makeup can make.

When he returned, he brought with him a pile of blankets and towels, putting them into a storage bin at the back of the boat. Then, he took a green spray can of Deep Woods Off out of the bin and began spraying it all over his body and for some reason it made me giggle, when juxtaposed against Braden's primping.

"I don't know what you're laughing at, Fatass. Get on the boat," Braden said, taking my upper arm, and scrutinizing my face. I knew what was bothering him, but I hoped he wouldn't say anything about it. Of course, that wasn't likely.

From the back of the boat, Craig took my hand and helped me in, frowning with concern at the light silk robe I wore. "Stay low and in the middle, keep balanced, and walk lightly," he told me quietly. I nodded, and did as he said, moving to the bow of the boat because I had an idea of the kind of shots Braden wanted.

Next Braden and Holt tromped into the boat, heedless of the instructions Craig repeated quietly with each of them, wobbling precariously at the sides until the boat stabilized. Finally, Cale stepped in, a little more carefully, but with all the equipment and people inside by that time, the boat was a little tipsy, so I understood why.

Craig took us out onto the lake, showing us views, and telling us about the natural development of the land. I tried to listen, but being in the front of the boat with nothing but a thin layer of silk between me and the slight wind created as we glided over the water, had me huddled with my back to the beautiful view and shivering miserably. Even more troubling, Braden was staring at my face again, scowling.

"Holt, you asshole, look at it!" Braden yelled randomly, interrupting Craig's description of the local wildlife. "Next time you drill her ass, take your fucking Timberlands off! I can still see the print your boot made on the face! We can't use the other side either, because of the carpet burn!"

Holt argued back that the carpet stunk like fish and there was no way he'd be taking his boots off because he'd probably catch ringworm or something. I turned away from everyone and looked out of the boat from the bow, the cold wind now filling up my thin robe like a sail, making it billow out around my body. I didn't care. I could block out the pain and the cold, but I was pretty sure seeing Craig's face at that moment would end me.

We cruised until Braden found the place he wanted. Holt took out the light reflector and angled it at my back. I loosed the belt of my robe and took my arms out of the sleeves, keeping it covering me as best I could as I turned and draped myself over the end of the boat, the cold metal pressing into my breasts, while Cale and Braden decided how they wanted my ass to look. Honestly, my ass made up about 90% of the content of Braden's online presence at this point.

"What? What's that for?" I heard Braden ask behind me, as I looked down into the clear lake water.

"Something for her to lie on. The metal's cold... and she's not dressed for the weather," I heard Craig say.

Braden cackled and repeated what he said. "Dude, that's brilliant! I'm gonna have you say that again when we're recording, okay? 'She's not dressed for the weather....'" Then, Cale explained in an undertone that I couldn't have a blanket under me because it would make the shot less "raw," if they couldn't see my bare skin pressed against metal.

Braden knelt down behind me to check the look, then I heard him sigh. "Get the tape, she's flabbing to the sides again. Get 'em together! I want it perky, like tits!" I felt hands squash my cheeks together until they made the proper cleavage and then heard the ripping sound of painter's tape and sighed with relief. Once, they had used duct tape to keep my cheeks together, and removing it ripped off hairs and skin.

I trailed my hand in the water below as I waited, cold and clear. Most lakes weren't cold this time of year, but Rose Lake was perpetually and dangerously cold because of its depth. I pictured myself slipping off the bow into the water and sinking down into the dark depths. From the side of the boat, I noticed Craig watching my face through the water's reflection. I closed my eyes. Craig made me feel things, and anything I started feeling now, would hurt.

"Okay, this is a whole Titanic thing. I'm standing behind her, going at her ass, and spread my arms for the money shot, got it? We practice a few times, then go live. You got signal, Cale?"

"5G, we're good."

A selfie stick drifted past my head, and I felt Braden stand behind me, moving his hips as if he was fucking my ass. "Fuck baby, yeah! You love it don't you? You love daddy's hot cock in your ass... you ready? OHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" he yelled, a little too much like Michael Jackson who sounded like he never had a real orgasm. "How was it?" Braden asked, turning to Cale.

"It'd be better with her head in the shot, if you ask me. Kinda necro-looking right now,"

"Yeah, well thanks to Holt, the face is fucked up. Arch your back and lean down further," Braden ordered, slapping my ass.

My hair was dipping into the water, now, my teeth were chattering and my shivering shook the boat slightly. I gripped the side of the boat for balance, arched my back, and leaned down further. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck yeah that's it," Cale said.

"Wait a sec, I got an idea," I heard Holt say, my muscles tensed in anticipation because Holt's ideas always, always hurt. Then, icy water was sprinkled all over my back, running down my body in rivulets of cold agony, and I squealed in misery until I got a hold of myself and tried to control my shaking so they could get the shot.

Then, Braden was standing, holding my hips again, and I was so grateful for the warmth of his hands, that it made me hate myself. "Okay! Let's go! Uh, uh, uh take it you little cockslut! Nnnnh, fuck yeah, that's right!"

I felt him speed up and stroke harder, his hips slapping against my taped ass and making it jiggle. Cale was zoomed in on the ass jiggle for a moment, then he was zooming back out for Braden's big cumshot, when I saw Craig's reflected face in the water. Once again, it was set like a stone, but then, I noticed he was mouthing something, what was it? Then, my mind cleared and I realized what words his lips were forming... "Hold on." Without even thinking about it, I gripped the boat for dear life.

Then Braden slammed himself against my ass, flung out his arms, and shouted "I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!!!"

Right then, there must have been some waves or something, because the boat suddenly wobbled sharply and then Cale and Braden, who really shouldn't have been standing in the boat, fell over the side, right into the icy cold lake.

Almost unable to move, I fell back into the boat and pulled my robe over me as Craig moved the craft closer to the guys, and Holt scrambled to haul them back into the boat. The shock of cold made both of them gasp upon entering the lake, filling their lungs with water. So, Cale and Leo DiCaprio spent the rest of the way to the dock coughing, while huddled and shivering under the blankets Craig had offered me earlier. If I was capable of thinking anymore, I would almost have felt bad for them. Almost.

Craig brought us back to the dock, tied the boat and climbed out. Ignoring the guys, he reached down help me out first, but my body was shutting down and I couldn't make myself stand or even reach up. Then, I felt his hands under my armpits and he easily lifted me out, straightening from a squat. "Whoa... dude doesn't skip leg day," Cale said admiringly through his chattering teeth, before Braden hissed at him to shut up.

"Pit's over there," Craig said, scooping me up under the knees and carrying me down the dock. "Go gather some wood and make a fire if you want to warm up."

I leaned my head against Craig's shoulder, not even wondering where he was taking me. The cold was no longer something I could block out, it was inside me. I found myself sobbing quietly, hopeless that I would ever feel anything again. I didn't even feel humiliated anymore, I couldn't think enough to even get that done. I was naked, shivering, and useless.

He put me down on some wood slats in a small dark room, the only light coming from the open doorway. I heard the clicking twist of a dial, then his hands were rubbing my arms and legs, trying to stretch me out rather than let me curl up and die like I wanted to. "Stay here, I'll be right back. Little bit of hypothermia. Don't lock the door, okay?" he said, brushing my wet hair away from my face and searching my eyes.

The door closed and left me in darkness. A hissing sound came from a dark corner nearby and I wondered what it was... probably snakes, demons, something like that. Creatures crawling out of the warm pit of hell to feast on the delicious stupid girl. At least it was warm...

"Open up, Katie. Put this under your tongue for me," a voice said, waking me.

"Mmmphuckoff," I politely suggested, but my pest was undaunted.

"I would, but you can't have this hot chocolate until I take your temperature. Guess I'll have to drink it myself..." the voice sighed regretfully.

"Gimme," I grunted, blindly thrusting my hand out and colliding with a sturdy shoulder. Instead of hot chocolate, a thermometer was put into my hand. I considered repeating my earlier suggestion, but instead I put the thermometer under my tongue. I fell asleep for what felt like a day, but then I woke up when the thermometer beeped, and it was only 30 seconds later.

"Hey, you're up to 96.4 degrees," Craig said, sounding pleased. I wondered vaguely how could he possibly sound pleased after what he'd seen today?

I opened my eyes, ready to ask him the question, when I saw him take a sip from my freakin' hot chocolate! "Hey! Mine!" I growled.

"Just the foam," he said dismissively.

"Foam's the best part," I said, taking the cup from him. "Where am I?" I asked, sitting up weakly.

"Sauna," he replied. "I needed to warm you up quick."

"The guys?" I asked.

"They were pretty cold after the lake, so I told them to gather some wood and build a fire. That was a few hours ago, though. I should probably check on their progress."

"They don't know about the sauna, do they?" I asked.

"Mighta forgotten to mention it," he said, a slight smile on his lips. "You needed it more than they did. You were... exposed longer," he said, his smile fading.

"I'm sorry..." I said, looking away. "I should have said something, prepared you better. I just... I liked you. Liked being the person you thought I was. I liked not having to explain what a failure I was, not to someone that touched me and looked at me the way you do... the way you did, I mean."

Craig took my hot chocolate and put it down next to him on the bench. Then, he pulled me down into his arms and sat me down on his lap. He was shirtless and warm, and I began to resent the jeans he was wearing. "Katie, how would you even know how I'm looking at you? You've barely met my eyes since this morning."

"Can you blame me? You saw what I am. You saw what I let them do to me... and Braden, he's huge, he's everywhere. Even if it's all faked, the world thinks I'm nothing but a piece of arm candy that lets her disgusting rich boyfriend do whatever he wants. Even if I could get away from him, for the rest of my life, there's nowhere I could go to get away from it. My life is ruined, and I did it to myself. After this, I can't be a writer... I can't be anything."

"You can be a writer here, Katie. Help me out, turnover the rooms, and bring some more people in here. Stay with me. I'll make you cheeseburgers and hot chocolate. You want away from all that, this is about as away as it gets," he said, squeezing me against him.

Uncomfortably, I pushed myself away from his warm body and looked at him. "Craig... I've only known you for a day. Do you realize if I did what you said, I'd be completely helpless and dependent on you? I'd trap myself in a place where you can't even get signal half the time? Somewhere I can't even get away from because I can't fly a plane? I've already ruined my life because I made myself helpless to someone who used it against me in every possible way. I can't do that again," I said, pushing myself off his lap and wrapping a towel around myself.

Craig rose, taking my shoulders, "Katie, you know I'm not like that. You know how you feel. I see the way you look at me. You can't tell me that this place isn't perfect for you... that there is nothing I wouldn't do to make you happy. Just believe a little, Katie. Just a little. Listen to your heart and give the good guy a chance, for once," he said, looking down into my eyes, willing me to forget everything I'd learned in life.

"What good is a heart to a woman?" I asked bitterly, "My heart told me not to give up on being a writer, and look where I am now. Hearts tell you to take risks, and then when it goes bad, they're too broken to help. You probably are a good guy, Craig... you might even be a great guy... but I'm too old to believe in heroes, and I might just be better off using my head from now on," I said, pulling out of his arms and walking back to the lodge.

After I changed into dry clothes, I went outside again and sat near the fire pit. The guys had given up on building a fire in favor of smoking weed and throwing out ideas for future episodes, so I tossed aside the wet rotting logs they tried to burn and crumpled up some paper into a pile and put small twigs around it. Soon, I had a cute little fire going and a sense of accomplishment that I hadn't had for quite a while. Then, Braden stood up and pissed on it while the guys laughed and recorded, which really struck me as a metaphor I could use... if I was ever going to be a writer.

If I was ever going to be a writer? What the hell? I was a writer! I just didn't feel like a writer because I wrote inane prattle for a rich trust fund brat so he wouldn't need to bother thinking things up for himself! And I only did that because I'd given up on what I loved... because I'd stopped using my heart. What the fuck was I doing with my life? I had to go find Craig.

I jumped up and ran back to the sauna, but it was empty. So, then, I thought: Craig was normal. What do normal people do after they sauna? If they're not hypothermic, they freakin' shower because they're sweaty. Then, I kinda got excited because the thought of a sweaty, naked Craig was pretty damn good.

So, I ran inside and looked for where his door might be. He said he was next to the office after we kissed last night, so I went there first. No Craig, but there were pictures... frames of him with people holding giant fish and huge grins, him carrying a kid on his shoulders that was pointing at something in the distance like a commander yelling "charge!!!" Then, there was a younger photo of him wearing dress blues with a white hat and belt... he'd been a Marine, and damn if that uniform didn't make you want to fuck yourself a Marine.

Then, I heard the shower! Following the sound and scent of my prey, I went through a door and past a small kitchenette where Craig probably made the coffee for the people who weren't me because he knew I preferred hot chocolate, goddammit! He probably made the cheeseburgers there, too! What the fuck was wrong with me?

Then, I walked through the open bathroom door and whisked back the plain, off-white shower curtain that had moldy black spots near the floor. "What?" he asked, all big and naked, glaring as if I was being obnoxious by interrupting his shower. Unfortunately for Craig, by this time I'd built up a head of steam and I didn't have a lot of experience in letting it off productively.

"I hate this shower curtain!" I yelled. "It's boring and it doesn't match the white tiles and you gotta spray some bleach water on it because that stuff at the bottom is gross!" Then, Craig turned off the water in slow motion, and belatedly I realized, with a plummeting sensation, that I had barged into a big, naked man's bathroom and yelled at him about something stupid. That was really one of those things you should think through before you commit to it.

"And?" he said, stepping closer to me with a rather unforgiving look on his face.

"And? And what kind of a jackass are you for not arguing with me? For not helping me see that it wasn't such a leap of faith to stay here? You could teach me to fly that plane in a fucking day, probably! You could give me some numbers of other people who could fly me out of here if you turn into a psycho! Hell! You're a goddamn Marine! You could teach me that thing where you kill someone with your thumb!" I yelled, showing him my lethal thumb weapon.

"Oh, for God's sake! We don't kill people with our thumbs! Marines are not killing machines! We're actually trained to have some discipline and make sound decisions under combat conditions. And I didn't argue with you because I'm a goddamn gentleman and when a woman says 'no,' you're supposed to listen," he said, calming his tone, but not his intensity.

"But... but, what are you supposed to do when she's wrong?" I choked. Craig glared at me and wiped the water from his face, looking furious. He had every right to be. I'd just chosen to be suicidal with an abusive idiot rather than show him even a little trust. A guy like Craig shouldn't have to prove he's not an asshole. Feeling hopeless and idiotic, I turned and ran out of the room sobbing.

Being a distressed busty blonde, I tried to go running through the woods at night somewhere where I'd be disemboweled by some evil entity that had been resurrected by something the guys chanted while high on weed, but I guess the horror movies don't quite give you the straight story on things like that. Instead, there were decent paths to follow, probably because going anywhere through the undergrowth was not fun at all. So, I chose a path and took off running until the trail disappeared rather suddenly and I almost fell off a small cliff into the lake. Having decided earlier that cold water was not a good way to die, I skidded to a halt, backed up a few paces against a good-sized fallen tree and hung onto it for dear life, just to be sure I wouldn't be falling into the lake accidentally.

It turns out I was a really slow runner, or Craig was a really fast one, because he couldn't have been behind me much longer than it took to pull on a pair of jeans. "Katie!" he yelled, running up to the edge, his eyes skimming the water frantically.

"Not dead..." I panted, raising my hand to be counted for attendance, still clinging to the big fallen tree.

"This path can kill you! I put up fucking signs!"

"Dark... no flashlight... upset..."

Craig cursed and flung himself down next to me and pulled me up into his lap as he checked me for injuries, "Are you still cold?" he asked, noticing I was shaking. I shook my head. The running had warmed me up. My body just didn't like being almost dead, and I held onto him more desperately than I'd clung to the log.