The Nude Studio Apartment Challenge Pt. 01

This is a different one. I adapted this from an old, old draft of a play I decided would never work (a production of two people naked on stage the entire time probably wouldn't fly)-- so is very dialogue driven. Also, the medical conditions of both the characters are based on actual cases I found researching, both the cause and result -- I can see people thinking the one is a stretch, but yes it has happened to a real person with the same result. Also, big thanks to the female clinical psychologist, who I consulted with for the woman's dialogue back when this was a play. There's little sex (in this part), but I consider this an erotic romance of sorts, and hopefully one with a twist that people will enjoy.

*****

Gage couldn't believe he was talked into going through with the challenge. He only put his name forward because he didn't think he had a chance of being picked. "Spend a weekend with a naked coed in a studio apartment with the chance to win enough money to pay a year's tuition." Sounded like a thing almost every male on campus would want.

Of course, every male wouldn't be overthinking it like he was. First thing, you had to be naked the entire time too, and guy's bodies aren't attractive in every pose without clothes. Secondly, there are no witnesses. Each person gets a phone to document and verify the rules are met; that's it. Talk about complete venerability for harassment or sexual assault accusations. Thirdly, what type of female student would agree to parade naked around a guy alone for two days? Chances are there would not be many and no guarantee they would be attractive, or straight, or not getting a visit from aunt flow. It was a contest of sorts, anyways.

The rules were fairly straightforward. If both people stay the weekend together in the nude, each gets equivalent of a semester's tuition. If one of them leaves early, or attempts to cloth themselves with a towel, sheet, etc, the other gets enough for two semester's tuition. If both leave or violate nude rule, neither get anything. Each gets a phone to submit video confessions every two waking hours to verify rules are being followed. They also can be used to submit proof of the other breaking the rules. Using the phone for anything beyond that was also grounds to loose. The video footage would be censored and posted on a site with about a couple hours delay as well as commentary and stuff -- like a independent reality show. The ones running the contest, also students, were the only ones seeing all the nakedness besides the two contestants.

There was a bunch of pools and betting on how it would turn out. Only a couple people knew who the participants were until the game started. The one male organizer, named Rick or Ron, was a nursing student who studied with Dave, a good friend of Gage's. He told Gage that there was a special pool on whether the two had sex. If he 'closed the deal,' regardless of winning or losing, Gage would get a substantial bonus prize -- if he could prove it. Again, the assault accusation anxiety took a spike with that news. Now, he had double the motivation to assault her. Even if something consensual happened, if the girl had a boyfriend, throwing blame would be a good way to save face.

Gage played sports most of his life, but lately played X-Box more than he exercised. He was a bulky guy anyway, tall D-lineman type, and now with a bit of a beer gut. All his friend-zone girl pals ensured him that he was good-looking, but he hadn't had the luck with women as many of his male peers. No girlfriend since high school, and a handful of one-night stands and a couple of three-night stands since. When it came to the dating scene, his confidence was not there. He was happy to instead have a great group of friends, and be a year of way completing a business degree with honors -- provided he could pay for it as the cost was increasing more than his income. He had the option of taking a job, but his marks might take a hit and then risk not keeping his scholarships. All reasons why he was pushed into accepting this challenge.

The Friday night before the challenge, he went to bed early -- aided by a few drinks for courage. He was woken around one am by a loud canned horn. He was surrounded by loud guys covering their faces with hoods or bandana's. All they said were woos and ya's as they pulled him from bed and shoved him towards the door. In just his boxers, they led him to a minivan with a big group of people clapping and cheering.

The minivan drove the warehouse district and stopped in front of an old building. Three guys, not saying a word, escorted him in. There were several closed businesses in the building on the ground floor, and an old style cage elevator. They took the elevator to the top floor. It opened up to a dimly lit studio apartment that was actually nicely decorated, though minimally. A couch, dining table, and various pictures, which all seemed to be erotic art.

"Here," said one who Gage recognized the voice as the nursing student handing him a cellphone, "Boxers off. Your toiletries are in the bathroom. Enough food for three days in the fridge. More can be brought if necessary. You know the rules, signed the waiver. Survive the long weekend until midnight on Monday and you win. Good luck."

After Gage removed his boxers, the nursing student leaned forward and said, "You should be pleasantly surprised of your competition. I expect you to win the bonus -- I have money on it."

The three guys went down the elevator, and left the building. Gage heard a noise from the bathroom and the door opened.

"Okay, let's get a few things straight right away," said a voice which was familiar.

Out of the bathroom came an average height woman shielding her breasts with one arm and her groin with the other. She was more athletic than skinny with pale skin and a few tattoos. Her hair was shoulder length brown with blond highlights. Her face was that of the devil himself.

"This has got to be a fucking joke, you?" snarled Tracy Winfield, who was one of those one-night stands.

"Maybe you better just leave then," replied Gage.

"Sure, you get all the money for being a douche bag. Sounds like a great fucking plan."

"Just earn it back with frequent bitch miles."

Tracy didn't respond. She carefully moved, still shielding herself, to the couch and laughed coldly. "Those assholes rigged this up. Random selected my ass."

"What are you talking about?"

"Think about it, genius. They handpicked us because of our history. A big set up to get the maximum entertainment."

Gage shook his head. "I doubt it, just really bad luck."

"Really? You weren't offered a bonus for eating me out?"

"No..."

"I was -- for getting the guy to go down on me. And it just happens to be you with our history? Still think it's a coincidence or bad luck that it's the two of us? Come on, what did you need to do for the bonus?"

"Finish the deal."

"Finish the deal? How romantic. Fuck, can't believe I fell for this -- you, I can see." Tracy threw her head back and yelled out one syllable of frustration. "Fuuuuuuuck! Had to be fuckin' Gage..."

Gage wouldn't admit it to her, but she was right. They had history and ending on bad terms was an understatement. They met through mutual friends, Dave and Crystal, freshman year. Went to dinner and seemed to hit if off. After, they caught a movie and were holding hands by the end. After that, Tracy asked him to come over for a few drinks. That's what should have happened.

On the way to her apartment, she suggested stopping at a pub for a quick drink and snack. After her buying six rounds of shooters, they were making out in the bar. They took a taxi back to her place and had sex on her couch, halfway clothed. Only their pants and underwear were removed in the heat of the moment. He was excited and drunk, so it was quick. She didn't come, so she grabbed his head and directed him to her crotch demanding he "eat her till she screams." With the drinks, and a stronger odor down there that he wasn't used to, Gage puked mid cunnilingus -- all over her. She was not impressed, and mid berating, she also lost her lunch. She threw him a towel and made him sleep on the puke couch. He got up early to spare her kicking him out and thought that was the end of it.

That should have been the end, but a week later, Gage heard back from a mutual friend that she said it was the worst sex of her life. Gage was mad and drunk, so he announced loudly if her pussy didn't smell so bad, he wouldn't have puked on it. That was it. Mutual friends became team-Gage or team-Tracy. The two blocked each other on social media and avoided all contact for the next two years. None of Gage's friends even mentioned her name -- even though Dave's girlfriend, Crystal, was still close to Tracy.

"You know I still occasionally get referred to as 'stink puss'?" Tracy said calmly.

"Well, what you said didn't exactly help my social life either."

"What I said was in confidence as an explanation why I didn't want another date with that 'great catch' I was promised. I didn't announce it to the world."

"Starting a 'lame fuck' chant at a party isn't exactly private."

"Well, that was after you started the rumor, at least mine was true."

"Mine wasn't?" Gage said with a cold laugh, "That is the only time in my life that I ever puked drunk and guess why."

"Well, there could have been plenty of reasons. I drank a lot and was sweating. We just fucked -- briefly - with a lubed condom. That was the only time in my life any guy..."

"Puked while going down?"

"Said I smell bad..." Tracy covered her mouth, exposing her breast. It was average size and really perky. She started laughing, which lead to Gage laughing.

"Sorry, I'm still mad, but that was something out of real bad comedy, wasn't it?" Tracy said.

"American Pie worthy -- especially when you puked too." Gage said.

"Look, you got zero chance of getting your bonus -- sorry. But, but, I'm willing to have a truce and not visibly hate your guts."

"Same here -- no bonus for you as well. Never gone down there again."

Tracy frowned again. "I'm trying to be civil. Getting the bonus was always a matter of me being willing, not convincing. No matter who the guy was -- unless he was gay, which I was..."

"You were counting on the bonus, weren't you?"

"That's before I knew it was a set up to humiliate me. Let's get along -- not ogle or stare at each other -- and just get through this. I'm taking the bed, you the couch. We can swap next night. I'm assuming sleeping with a sheet covered is within the rules."

While Tracy 'freshened up' in the bathroom, Gage grabbed a blanket and pillow from the bed, turned off the light and settled down. He heard the bed creak as she did the same. The couch wasn't uncomfortable as he thought.

Minutes later, he could hear her tossing and turning. She was obviously awake muttering to herself. He heard his name, and wasn't sure if she called him or was venting. Despite knowing it was probably the later, he got up and walked through the open bedroom door. As always, too much was on his mind.

"Hey?" Gage said.

"What?" she replied in a not-happy-sleepy voice.

"I just want to know, if you needed to have so many drinks before we, you know, why did you bother going through with it? What did Crystal tell you?"

"You think 'I went through with it?' like it was some favor to Crystal?"

"Well, it definitely wasn't something you wanted to do -- sober. Crystal told me that you told her that she owed you big before we had our date."

"Of course, she did... Shit. Makes me look really good - fuck for a favor. Okay, you want to know..." Tracy sat up, letting the sheet fall to expose her breasts in the dim light, "I thought I was getting set up with some fugly guy that Crystal felt sorry for. Someone I had no intention of giving more than a kiss. Instead, I met this tall, strong, cute, confident guy with a great sense of humor that would be fun to hang out with. I thought we could have some chemistry and was really attracted to him. I thought because I was nervous that I would be terrible in bed because I'd only been with one guy before at that time. I thought a few drinks would loosen me up so I wouldn't be so nervous."

"Wow."

"I will kill you if this gets to anyone. Not Crystal, not Dave, no one. It was really quick between us, but I was so turned on about the whole thing, I was 'this' close to coming. Another two stokes and boom. That's what I tried to get you to finish me because I was almost there."

Gage didn't say a word. He was trying to figure out if that was the truth or not.

"Please, don't get your hopes up. That was two years ago. We're both different. No offense, you kind of let yourself go and this pity party thing is not a turn on. Back then, you had confidence."

"I lost it the night that I became known as 'lame fuck.' Any guys turn you down because of your nickname? With how hot you are, I seriously doubt it. I sure as hell have been because of mine."

"Good night, Gage. You try to climb in bed with me, and I will castrate you and claim self-defense. Close the door when you leave."

**

In the morning, there was little natural light in the apartment, with two tiny windows about seven feet from the floor. Gage woke up to the smell of oatmeal. He checked his phone; it was eleven am.

"Better do your confession video -- use the bathroom," said Tracy who was sitting with her back to him eating oatmeal.

"Yeah, not necessarily in that order," said Gage getting up, noticing he had a morning erection he probably should cover up.

Tracy giggled softly. "I'm not looking, just go. Women know all about the morning stiff thing, besides I have seen it before."

"But, it's bigger and all tattooed now. All new," Gage said as he sped-walked to the bathroom clutching the phone. There, he took care of mother-nature and showered.

He was amazed how many products Tracy needed. There was make up, cleanser, deodorant, perfume, and a dozen others he didn't want to know. He only had toothpaste, tooth brush, electric razor, deodorant, shampoo/body wash, and cologne. There was also a twelve pack of condoms, lube, and a vibrating ring, which he assumed wasn't left there by Tracy.

He had no clue what to do for the video thing, so he kept it simple. "Hey, Gage here. Start of day one. I slept in. I'm naked. She's naked. We haven't killed each other yet, but the day is young."

He sent the video and seconds later received a reply text, "Naked, how hot is she from one to ten."

Gage shrugged and typed, "11."

"She said you were nine."

He laughed and typed, "Bullshit."

A jpeg was sent of a screen shot with a video sent followed by the message, "naked how hot is he from 1 to 10."

The reply was, "9 if not talking."

It could be fake or it could be a joke. They had to know Tracy and his history and just were stirring the pot. Gage came out, a little more conscious to shield his groin. Last night he didn't care, but really seeing his nakedness couldn't be the most comfortable thing for her. Drooping dicks weren't something women like to see -- so he heard.

She was in the chair, back to him reading a magazine. "Water's still hot for oatmeal; all there really is for breakfast."

"Thanks." Gage went to prepare a bowl.

"Hey, I got a little mad last night -- not just at you but the whole set up thing," Tracy said.

"Okay, so did I."

"The 'let yourself go' comment was uncalled for and not true. My ass is bigger and I have some cellulite... comes with getting older. I didn't mean it. I am sorry."

"It's fine."

"I was... so embarrassed, worst I've ever felt. It felt like I was betrayed in the worst way -- not just by you -- but I took it out on you because I thought I needed to make someone pay..." Tracy sighed.

"Me too."

"So, if you read the rule using arms and such to cover things up is using other items as clothing. Last night, I broke the rules," Tracy said.

"I didn't notice," said Gage finishing his oatmeal.

"I agreed to do this knowing, for better or worse, someone would see me naked and vice versa. I am ready to accept that if you are. No ogling still applies -- ten second rule. More than a ten second glance is ogling."

Gage carried his bowl to the dishwasher. "I don't think that's a real rule, but I'll agree for common courtesy. What are you reading?"

"Hustler Letters," said Tracy and Gage nearly tripped on his feet.

"Notice how sexualized they made this -- knowing full well the bad blood between us? The artwork, all the stuff in the bathroom. No cable, just porn DVDs, only porn magazines, cards with XXX pictures, and we can't even check Facebook," said Tracy, "At least they gave us Kleenex and a showerhead."

"Yeah, probably getting a big laugh," said Gage.

"Do you want to get it over with?" said Tracy.

"Um?" Gage inched around her toward the couch.

"From what I remember, we didn't full undress. You've never seen my tits before -- a good look at least. Just take a look, and we'll get through this and collect our money," said Tracy.

"I don't think so. Shield yourself or whatever. I didn't do this to ogle someone," said Gage.

"Don't, please," said Tracy half-snorting. It sounded like she ready to cry.

"What?"

"You're being the pitiful thing all broken and the same time sweet and considerate, making me feel like the biggest bitch in the world. Making me hate myself isn't making you any more attractive. It's just making me feel ugly."

"Hey..." Gage said and touched her shoulder. She slapped it away.

"Stop it! Don't act like one of my girlfriends. Fuck, man up and stare at me! That's what a guy who'd call a girl 'stink puss' would do. Don't make me the mean one," she sobbed into her hands.

Gage went back to the table. He didn't notice before that there was an XXX set of cards. Their phones beeped. Time for another confession.

"Fucking great," said Tracy.

Gage got up, "I'll go first."

"I'll just do mine out here..."

He went in the washroom, decided to shower and release some of his sexual tension. When he was done, he turned on the phone. "Okay, second check in. Ate breakfast. I'm naked. She's still naked. We don't like each other so it's really awkward. Not sure what more to say."

He pressed send. The text reply right away was, "Why was she crying?"

Gage typed, "I dunno ask her."

"She said to ask you."

Gage swore and typed, "I guess I'm being an asshole. We hate each other. Everyone knew that. What do you mean she said ask me?"

Another screen shot jpg was sent of a conversation that went:

"Why are you crying?"

"Fuck you"

"Why?"

"Why because this guy I've hated and done the meanest stuff ever to is being the nicest to me."

"Why?"

"Ask him"

Gage could tell he was being played. He punched the wall and typed, "What is this? What's going on?"

The reply was, "Want my winnings for you earning the bonus."

Gage knocked lightly on the door and opened it. Stupid for the person leaving the bathroom to do, but he felt it was appropriate. Tracy was still in the chair facing away. "Did mine already."

"I know, listen, I think they're trying to manipulate us. I think they're sending me copies of your texts," said Gage.

"11/10... Figures that really was you. Look, do whatever you want, but can I have time to myself? I don't really feel like talking."

"Tracy..." Gage said.

"Can't you fuckin' listen? Stop being the nice guy. It's getting you no closer to fucking me, and it's not making me feel any better. It's pointless."

"I'm an asshole and probably already broken the 10 second rule numerous times. I just jerked off in the shower because it smelled of your perfume and reminded me of how nice your boobs looked. Arm bras are as hot or hotter than naked. We are being played here; they are trying to make you feel like shit and convince me that you like me. I do not know why."