The first night of Rope Camp, Thursday night, is full of stories I wish to tell; the first I'll recount is how I earned my NYR Cabin nickname.
To start, an explanation. Murphy Blue and Graydancer, two of my friends who I knew would be at Rope Camp, ended up in Cabin 1/2. Murphy, along with Dov & Remy, is from New York. Since the cabin was full of New Yorkers, and friends of New Yorkers, it was dubbed the New York Riggers, or NYR Cabin.
Now, to my name. Everyone in NYR Cabin got a nickname. Mine was imparted, as I mentioned above, Thursday night.
After dinner, Graydancer & I strolled around camp, making stops at the vendor areas. I purchased my Shibari ring and he bought a secret weapon for his rigger vs rigger competition. Our spoils in tow, we soon made our way back home and settled onto the porch of Cabin 1/2, cigar and Gentleman Jack at the ready for after dinner lounging.
At first, I sat in a chair next to Gray, leaning my elbows onto my knees and generally situating my body as close to him as I could. He offered me whiskey, which I sipped slowly, and we sat quietly, taking in the calm air.
Even though I was near him, the moment just didn't seem right. Members of the cabin slowly made their way back, including Darian, Murphy, and Sasha. We chatted and laughed, having a generally good time. I was happy to be around my adopted cabinmates, but something was missing. I just didn't...fit.
Shyly, I asked Gray to be at his knee; his reply, "Not in those clothes." I stripped down, neatly placing my garments aside in a small pile, and curled up against his calf, placing my head against his knee.
Gray then decided he wanted a table. I got on all fours in front of him. He placed his glass of whiskey on my back. Murphy, seeing the cabin had a new piece of furniture, placed his whip on the new table. Sasha reclined her feet.
At this moment, in his infinite wisdom, Big Bro came up with my nickname, the NYR Cabin Bitch. Throughout camp, I was called Cabin Bitch more than I was called Poetic or Kristen, combined. I coiled rope, demo bottomed, fetched sodas, provided rides, and was a general go-to for all things needed and desired.
I loved my cabin and will remain their Cabin Bitch 4 Life (another story to be told soon).
The Immigrant "Invasion" Is Just WMDs All Over Again
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There is no immigrant invasion at the southern border of the United States.
That needs to be said at the outset any time you wanna talk about What's
Wron...
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