"I don't have that effect on people."
"Now I have to call bullshit."
We sat in the Dining Hall. It was Monday morning, the final moments of camp upon us.
I was tired, having spent another late night out. I'd already finished eating my meal and was relishing the last few minutes I had before I was relegated to breakdown crew.
We chatted about nothing important at first. Movie reviews, mostly, of upcoming films. It was talk for the sake of hearing each other speak. I loved the sound of their voice.
And then we slipped into an actual meaningful conversation.
I finally had a retort for them. They had previously suggested that my going to so many events and having a grueling work schedule would keep me from having the life I wanted to live.
"I think that's bullshit. What if I meet my Daddy at an event?"
"What if you've already met your Daddy? What if they met you, but they saw your life and said, 'She's too busy to start a relationship'?"
"That wouldn't happen."
"Why?"
"Cause I don't have that effect on people."
"Now I have to call bullshit."
They used the perfect argument, an interaction I'd had just minutes before.
"If I told you, months ago, when you first met X, that you would end up playing with them, being at their side for most of a night, you wouldn't have believed me.
"They came into this Dining Hall, sought out you, only you, and made it a point to hug you, thank you for that night, and say bye to you.
"Do you really think you don't have an effect on people?"
Okay, I had to admit my excuse was bullshit.
But their argument opened up a whole bucket of worms. Yes, I want a certain life, but how much of me has to change to get it? I didn't want to think about that quandary.
I wanted, truthfully, to hug them and fuck them in their chair til I came, screaming out their name. But there are no scenes in the Dining Hall.
Again, I was left with no other response.
But my time was also up. I had to go to work. We hugged bye, knowing we'd see each other in a few months.
My Fusion was full of amazing moments, from heartfelt to hard cocks, hard points and punches. Friends, chosen family, crushes and curses. A storm, so many scenes, and everything in between.
He stood beside me for a moment before his turn. He asked for a light for his cigar, which I gratefully gave.
Sitting down in my chair, the din of the event fell away. I picked up his boot and placed it on my thigh. I unlaced his leather and began working.
I was still in the bar shine mindset. I made myself slow down. I made myself take care with his leather. I cleaned each of his boots twice, making sure I massaged the flesh beneath the leather.
As I worked, he blew cigar smoke into my face and ran the cherry of his tobacco delicately near my skin. The intensity of our interaction increased.
He ashed into his hand and brought his palm to my eye line.
"May I?"
"Yes."
I took his hand into mine and licked up the flecks. Some ash spilled onto his thigh. His hand clean, I bent down and licked the ash off of his leather kilt, all the while nuzzling my face into his crotch.
His kilt free of ash, I sat back. He flashed me momentarily. I gave a smile, but got back to work. I'd already cleaned his boots once and not gotten to the polish; I didn't want to get sidetracked again.
As I reached down for my polish supplies, he stood, placed his boot on my thigh, and pointed. I bent my head down and licked all over his leather. I kissed. I caressed my face.
Satisfied, he sat back down, but then placed his boot in between my legs, applying intense pressure onto my clit. With the force of his weight behind him, he merely pulsed his boot as he fucked me with his leather.
I leaned back in my chair, moaning rather loudly. I begged permission to cum. He gave it. He allowed sweet warmth to pass through me three times, my hips bucking with the rhythm of his leather, before he ceased his delicious torment.
As I rode his boot, as I sunk into my ecstasy, I forgot about anything else going on around me.
When finally he stopped, I raised my head back up, regained my breathing, and got back to servicing his boots. I cleaned where his leather had met my pussy. I asked him what polish he preferred; Lincoln.
I pulled out my tin and popped it open. I rubbed the dark substance and applied some polish to his leather.
He took the tin from my hand. He built up saliva on his hand, so much so some dripped from his lips, rubbed his hand into my polish, and applied it to his leather.
Moving his hand to my face, his fingers rubbed my lips. My mouth parted and I sucked on his fingers, sucked like I knew he wanted me to suck on his cock. I could hear him moan from my mock fellatio.
Upon his request, I put the tin in my mouth between my teeth. I vigorously worked the polish from the tin into his boots. I buffed his leather.
Taking my brush from me, he licked the bristles and buffed his toe caps. Once again I followed his lead, licking my brush and buffing his heel caps.
"Now you are in my leather."
And you are in my polish.
"I can wait; she's worth waiting."
"Now you know what it's like to be a presenter; everyone wants a piece of you."
After the Dirty Pig Leather Contest, I packed up my kit and headed down to the Cigars and Services event in the Pavilion. It had already been underway for a bit, but I was the first bootblack to arrive. After retrieving a few chairs, I made a place for us at the edge of the stage, opened my kit back up, and waited.
While arranging the bootblack area, I happened to bump into SirRonC. He introduced me to his friend, Prophet, and inquired if I was doing cigar service for anyone. I informed him I was not, but that I was bootblacking at the front.
I ate ash from Prophet's hand, a new experience for him. I also offered to check on him throughout the night to see how he was doing.
My first set of boots was a fellow classmate from earlier that day. As I worked on his boots, we chatted. His leather was new and needed little attention other than a standard cleaning and conditioning. My services were soon complete and he was on his way.
As I waited at the bootblack station for my next pair to work on, Rabbit approached. He was to be another bootblack for the event. He left to retrieve his kit and came back as I was working on my next pair.
My next set of boots were far more difficult than my first.
Pendragon sat down in my chair. As I looked on his leather, I silently cursed. He had been working to help bring the camp back from the storm. As such, his leather was beyond dirty.
I worked hard to clean all the mud and grass from his boots. I earned my tip from him.
As I worked on Pendragon's boots, I heard people behind me. One voice I recognized was Stefanos. He was to be next in my chair.
At least, I thought he was to be next.
Once I finished Pendragon's boots, his companion, who had quietly sat on the stage floor next to him, sat in my chair. Neither her nor Pendragon informed me she also needed my service.
Stefanos was not put off. "I can wait; she's worth waiting."
I informed Pendragon's companion that I would be right back. I wanted to check on Prophet since it had been a spell since I last saw him.
As I stood up to step away, Gray, who had been chatting with Stefanos behind me, grabbed my attention for a moment.
"Now you know what it's like."
"What?"
"Now you know what it's like to be a presenter; everyone wants a piece of you. Just remember, keep something for yourself."
I took his comment with a grain of salt and rushed off to find Prophet. He was indeed good. His cigar was near finished, with no ash for me to eat though. I politely asked to be released from assisting him, my bootblacking obligation being more than I initially realized. He graciously agreed.
Back at my station, I worked on the companion's boots. These were her first pair and they were beautiful. I consulted with Rabbit as to how I should condition them. Once done, both she and I were pleased with the results. She walked away happy.
And then Stefanos sat down in my chair...
It was raining only a little, ever so lightly, as D3 and I setup our space.
As we sat, waiting for anyone to sit in our chairs, Chey came over and sat in my seat. She wore shoes and didn't want them blacked. But she did need them cleaned, having walked through the dirt and mud throughout her Sunday.
I used my saddle soap and towel to clean off her shoes, giving extra attention to massaging her foot as I worked.
Once finished, I turned back around in anticipation of the show.
"May I play with your hair?"
I gave my permission. She softly pet my mane, lacing her fingers through my strands. Quite quickly I was in my happy floaty place.
"I love your hair."
I loved her hands in my hair.
~
"Have any of you heard of the red and blue parade?"
I sat on a piece of fabric on the ground. D3 and I had setup a bootblack station on the side of the small hill next to the Barn stage. He worked on a difficult pair of boots; aside from Chey, I had no customers for my evening.
SherynB, who was hosting the Dirty Pig Leather Contest, was stalling for time. Contestants needed to prep for their pop fantasies, and, with over a hundred people watching, time needed to be killed.
"I want you to come up here and show us your bruises."
She didn't need to tell me twice.
I popped up off the fabric and galloped onto the stage.
However, someone had beat me to the limelight. I stood upstage as Sheryn asked them how they'd received their marks.
And then it was my turn.
I stepped to downstage center, lifted my dress up above my cleavage, took two steps to my left, twirled, and then walked back to SherynB, who asked me the obligatory question.
"Well Monday night was biting while fisting, as well as Tuesday morning. I had an interrogation, a kidnapping..."
"Ladies and gentleman, Dirty Pig contestant number six!"
My eyes grew wide. I think my hands went up to my face as I cutely cowered. I very quickly, and sheepishly, scurried off the stage and back to the fabric on the hill.
~
Once, towards the end of the competition, I looked over and saw D3 playing with his knife. He held it inside his mouth, never touching his tongue, cheeks, or lips.
With the show ended, he packed up his kit. Slightly concerned, I asked him if he was okay. He explained he didn't care for the show; that was all.
He then informed me he was leaving camp; this was it for him. As he sat in his chair, I got up on my knees to hug him. He sunk back down to the ground onto his knees for our bye.
We kissed, his lips and tongue now familiar. He sucked and played with my ring. He bit me a little. And we hugged.
As he walked away, I consoled myself with the fact I would see him at The Floating World.
And then it hit me: I liked him. Crap.
For a moment, it felt like my camp drop had started.
But I still had the rest of my Sunday night, and a pair of boots to attend to. I packed up my kit and headed down to the Pavilion.
They gave a warning for the squeamish before they began. I, with a front row seat, wasn't going anywhere.
Chey laid face down on the table to my right. Stefanos prepared his tools for the demo: a glass fire cup, his fire wand, a lit tea candle, a cup of alcohol, and a scalpel.
Working on Chey's back, Stefanos sliced five incredibly small scratches into her skin. So small, in fact, were his marks that I could barely see the lines of blood.
With a quick swish of his wand inside the fire cup, he placed the glass on top of the tiny wounds.
And then we all watched as the blood began to seep up and out. Chey's flesh raised from the burnt oxygen inside the glass. The lines of blood trickled down to the edges of the cup.
Chey and Stefanos spoke about their blood cupping as we all sat watching.
Somehow, because of Chey's movements, the cup dislodged. Stefanos again spun lit accelerant into the glass and placed it back over the cuts. Again, we watched as physics pulled the blood out from her flesh onto her skin.
And I sat, my eyes locked on this small cylinder of glass, mesmerized by the show.
They then had us all stay quiet and watch the glass carefully. Chey braced as Stefanos popped the cup.
It wasn't what they'd hoped; no intense splatter of blood displayed on the glass, though there was a small pop of blood.
The cup to the side, Stefanos poked at the hematomas on Chey's back. Because the cup was placed twice, she had two differing sized hills of blood just under her skin. Stefanos played with them, moving the hills around like a cat gingerly batting about a ball.
We asked how she felt. We asked how much it hurt. How long before the swelling would go done? What kind of a mark did she expect to have afterwards?
Hurt, no. Felt, I can't recall.
Chey hypothesized the swelling would be down by the end of the day, leaving her with a rather large bruise for weeks.
As they cleaned up and the class disbursed, one thing remained on my mind. I had never seen blood play live before, especially not that up close and personal. I did not squick. I did not shy away.
In fact, I loved watching it. I wanted to touch Chey's back (though I never asked). I wanted to play in the blood (though again I made no overture).
I recalled seeing Stefanos pick up a large clot of blood formed at the edge of the glass cup. It looked like a wet red dead worm. And yet I wanted to touch it, push it around, play with it.
Because of Chey & Stefanos' Pyro Passion presentation, a majority fire play class, I learned that maybe, possibly, I want to play with blood.
"I like her. Can we take her home?"
Even though I was tired, having only gotten about three hours of sleep, there was no way I was going to miss the first class session Sunday morning.
I got up, quickly showered, put on my gray cotton stretch dress with mesh cut outs, laced up my boots, and almost skipped to the upper fire pit class tent. I was the first to arrive for WhipMasterBob and Bootpig's Puttin The Boot To Them.
I greatly enjoyed the lessons they taught in nonverbal communication using just your boots, but my favorite part of the presentation was the last thirty minutes.
The duo always left this time for student requests. Coming into the lesson, what did we expect to learn? From those answers, they would provide us with the final bits of information.
The consensus in the class was a desire to learn about rough body play with the boot.
Bootpig laid on a soft mat in the middle of the class benches. WhipMasterBob stood above her and spoke about different areas of the body to target. He stood on different parts of her body, suggesting that tops have something to hold onto to keep their balance.
But then he stopped. Bootpig was having back issues and could not demo the rest of the information. Could he have a volunteer from the class?
My hand shot up.
He waved me onto the mat. I got on all fours in front of Bootpig, who then didn't move off the mat.
"Oh, am I in your way," I asked.
"No honey. I'm just enjoying the view." Yeah, I wasn't wearing any underwear...
Bootpig complimented my ass before sitting on another mat to watch the rest of the demo.
Lying down on the center mat, WhipMasterBob now loomed over me. He spoke about how I'd positioned my body on the mat. I was flat on my stomach, my arms above my head, exposing my ribs. He then gave some swift kicks with the side of his boot to my torso.
Stepping towards my rear, he stood on my back, pushing my body into the mat.
Using the toe of his boot, he struck the lower portion of my ass with an upward angle. I started to softly moan as my hips ground into the mat with each of his strikes.
"Your welcome," he said.
With that as a warm up, WhipMasterBob had one more lesson to teach.
Slipping the toe of his boot under my clit, he inched farther and farther under me until my entire crotch was on his boot, my pussy right against laces. Using his other boot, he gyrated my ass, having me hump his leather. My moans grew loud as I rode his boot.
And then he stopped.
"What? I'm a Sadist."
The other students in the class groaned for me. Someone saw my pout and advocated to our instructor. WhipMasterBob looked down at my face and ah-ed.
"Can you beg with your eyes?" I did. "That's pretty good. Okay."
His boot was again on my ass, rocking my body against his leather, fervently humping his boot. As I moaned, I still felt the need to ask permission, but couldn't quite get out the words. WhipMasterBob, ever the experienced Dom, understood my garbled request.
"Yes, you may."
"Thank you," I panted.
And right there, in the middle of class, I humped his boot and came.
D3 stripped naked, save for his boots. I wore only a black strapless dress, a cute pair of underwear, and my boots. I told D3 how I like it when people take off my clothes.
"Mean or nice?"
"Whichever."
He stepped in close. We kissed, our arms wrapped around each other.
He began punching me. I slowly, blow by blow, backed up into the wall of the cage. I looked into his eyes as his punches landed on my chest, my arms, my thighs.
He kissed me, turned me, and then stripped off my dress, unzippering the back and quickly peeling it off my body. He left my boots and underwear on.
He punched my back, my ass. Using the toe of his boot, he kicked my thighs. He swung his leg and landed his boot across my ass.
Grabbing my hair, he pulled me to the ground. Lying on my stomach, he put his boot by my face.
"Lick it," he demanded.
My tongue traced up, down, and around his leather as he continued to punch my back.
Using his boot, he flipped me over. He loomed above, stepping onto my body, using the cage for balance until he could apply his full weight. Adjusting his body, he intensified his weight into his heel, down onto my flesh. Turning my head with his boot, he stepped on my chin line.
Coming down to my level, he chose to sit on my ribs and once again punched my chest. Using his elbow, he applied pressure points to my chest and arms. Pulling out a knife, he glided his steel along my chest and over my face. He made me endure more pressure points.
His knife away, he leaned down and once again kissed me. He licked my eyelids. As we continued to makeout, he pulled me on top of him. His body now laid below mine.
In an instant, the dynamic of our scene switched. I kissed him, teased him. I danced my breasts in front of his face. He pinched and sucked on my nipples. I leaned down and bit his neck. He encouraged me to bit harder; I did so. He moaned with my increased pressure.
I kissed him more. Without realizing it, I'd begun grinding my hips on his leg. I was happy my underwear was still on.
Without warning, he hooked his leg and flipped me back onto the mat. Again we kissed. My legs grasped his thigh as I continued to hump his limb.
He sat me up, crossed legged. He punched my thighs more. Using his lead shot mallet, he attacked my back and thighs.
And then he asked a magical question.
"What do you want to do now?"
I answered bluntly.
"Fist me or fuck me."
We laid down a chuck; he gloved up. I removed my very wet underwear and got comfortable on my back.
We started slow. I asked him if I needed permission to cum. He said I didn't. I could have as many orgasms as I wanted. "I love to watch people cum."
I orgasmed a few times before his full fist was in.
Once inside, he used a turning motion to make room, sending my muscles racing. What he thought was to be our final flourish was merely about a third of the way into the fisting. I continued to fuck his hand and cum like crazy, pushing back as he rocked me forward.
Once, during a rather intense orgasm, I lifted my hips up off the ground, bridging my body high. "That was intense," he remarked.
My ass back down on the ground, I hooked my calves around his elbow and squeezed my thighs. I rode his hand as hard as I could. I came so hard, I cried. I asked him to vibrate his hand, and then came again. He tried to open and close his hand quickly. I stopped him, coaching him instead to do it slowly.
Soon, his wrist tired. He asked me how long I could go. I informed him this was a loaded question, as my record for a fisting was an hour and forty-five minutes with forty-two orgasms (yes, we counted).
He decided, with his wrist about done, it was time to pull his hand out. There was a final flourish, the delicious feel of his knuckles against my pelvic bone when his hand exited.
Ungloving and joining me on the mat, we cuddled and kissed, and almost fell asleep.
He then asked me if I wanted to help him orgasm. I gave a very enthusiastic yes.
I then gloved up as he laid back. As he masturbated, I massaged his asshole. When he came, I caught his cum in my glove and smeared it onto his lips. He licked off his cum, sucking on my fingers, all the while our eyes locked on each other. It was so very hot.
Gloves again discarded, we cuddled more before cleaning up.
When we checked the time, we could hardly believe it was real. We'd started at about midnight. The time had flown by.
We finished at 2:22am.
When I approached the Dungeon, I knew I was arriving a bit early. Since I'd finished my writing with some extra time, I figured I'd just wait for D3's arrival by the cage.
As I grew closer to the entrance, a small crowd meandered outside. Since I knew the people standing about, I greeted folks and struck up a conversation.
Skywolf and I spoke about bootblacking. He thanked me for aiding Phoenix in learning the basics of the skill, and asked me a specific leather care question. However, since I am still somewhat of a novice, I did not know the answer to his question.
As I spoke with Skywolf, Lynk (ever the ninja) sneaked up on me again. I gave a little yelp as he nipped my neck and then rubbed my shoulders. The group conversation continued as I melted away for a moment, relaxing into his touch. I was grateful his hands helped to soothe away some of my nerves.
When my mind again came back, I ended up giving a brief description of my night thus far to those standing about. Bendyogagirl them commented she suddenly felt her awesome night was not so awesome after all. However, when she described her exploits to me, I disagreed. I thought her escapades sounded like quite the kinky awesomeness.
As much as I would've loved to have stayed outside with the group, chatting and socializing, I had a scene to get to.
When I entered the Dungeon, it took me but a moment to find D3. He stood, by the cage, the ever prized play space claimed for us. He explained he'd actually waited and then held the spot just for our play.
As I looked around the Dungeon, I noticed there was a dearth of kinky folk about. When D3 mentioned it was almost time for Midnight Snack, my question was answered.
I set my things aside to use the restroom while D3 cleaned the mats on the floor of the cage. On my walk back, I happened to bump into N3rddom, who asked me what I was up to. I mentioned I was about to have a scene with a cute boy.
"You seem nervous."
"Yeah."
"Your voice changed."
"What?"
"You really like him."
"I gotta go," I said, scurrying back towards the cage.
As much as I cared for N3rddom, the last thing I needed was someone pointing out my nerves. I was, to be perfectly honest, incredibly nervous leading up to my scene with D3.
Stepping into the cage, D3 closed the door behind me.
Rushing to head back to the end of the Circus, I ran to my cabin, dropped off my rope equipment, picked up my bootblacking kit, and quickly made my way to the Barn.
When I arrived, the event had already ended. I looked around but could not find Stefanos, who had emceed the Circus.
I spoke with Big Bro, who said I should check his cabin. Taking his advice, I headed in that direction. When I finally found it, after some confusion as to exactly which cabin Stefanos & Chey stayed in, I inquired inside, but still did not find him. Instead I found another girl who said she had a playdate with him as well.
With no other good idea coming to mind, we both headed back towards the Circus.
As I again approached the Barn, we looked around for Stefanos. We eventually found him kissing yet another beautiful girl. This was getting interesting.
As both myself and his cabinmate approached, Stefanos and the other beautiful girl stopped kissing. He took a moment, looked at all three of us, and suddenly realized his mistake.
I, also realizing the situation, could not help but start giggling uncontrollably. It wasn't the best time for one of my giggle fits, but it was definitely warranted.
Stefanos asked for a moment to go grab his things to prepare for each of our scenes. The three of us sat, chatting, waiting for his return. A permanent smile was plastered on my face.
When he came back, he brought Chey to meet us all. She recognized me instantly. After greeting us, she wished us each good scenes and headed on her way.
Stefanos then asked our trio how we wanted to handle the confusion. I was first to offer an out. I could wait until late for his bootblacking.
He wanted to know what I meant by late. Since I had my midnight playdate with D3, I offered 2:30am. He agreed, thanking me for my understanding.
With now a few hours to kill, i decided to catch up on my journaling. I had the abduction, my bootblacking shift, and my rope time to chronicle.
Slipping into the Barn, I sat on an empty massage table and pulled out my notebook. As I began writing, I heard some people enter behind me. When I looked back, I saw Stefanos and one of the ladies taking a spot on another free massage table. It seemed they would have their scene about twenty-five feet away from me.
As much as I wanted to watch, and I wanted to watch, I made myself turn back around. I made myself write.
As I continued to delve into my memory, the rest of the world melted away. I mined my mind's caverns, trying to recall small details, memorable bits of dialogue, and multitudes of tiny moments of my adventures.
Later, when someone asked if they could use my massage table for a scene, I quickly hopped off and transitioned to sitting on the stage. When I looked across the Barn, Stefanos and the beautiful girl were gone.
Finished with my writing, I headed to the Dungeon. A cute boy was waiting for me.
My third and final tie for Fusion occurred early Saturday night.
Nomad, Lynk, and I met up by the Barn, standing on the outskirts of an event, the Kinky Circus.
Nomad and I then headed towards the Dungeon as Lynk stayed a moment to speak to someone briefly.
As the two of us stepped onto the gravel path leading up to the tennis court, Lynk slipped up beside me. I jumped a little, not realizing he had caught up, and said, "Dude, you're ninja."
We'd decided to have our rope time at the circular truss on the tennis court just outside the Dungeon. When we initially met up, it was 8pm. The Sun was low in the sky, but still bright enough for us to work.
I emptied out my rope kit and began to rig my ring. As I threw up my webbing, Lynk offered to assist me. Leaping, he grabbed a lower rung of the truss and slipped my webbing threw.
As Nomad looked up, she wasn't sure how she would rig her equipment. She merely had two interlocked carabeners, along with a swivel, attached to her ring.
I asked her for a length of rope and decided I would climb on top of the truss to rig her ring. Again Lynk offered to help instead. He leaped, flipped up, and locked his legs above.
"You could use the ladder," I said, referring to the ladder portion of the truss I had begun to climb before his offer of aid.
"What's the fun in that?" He then lifted his body up and over and laid across the top of the truss.
Tossing up the rope, he looped the line through the truss and let it back down to me. I tied a knot on Nomad's ring and then tied a set of ascending half hitches. When I could no longer reach, Lynk took over, finishing off the rope for me.
Our equipment secured, Nomad started her self suspension and I started my practice with Lynk.
I explained to him the ties I wanted to perform. First I would give him a simple inversion with a hip harness and an ankle cuff. Then I would attach a chest harness and thigh cuff, giving him a face up suspension.
We began. Using a Swiss seat, I encouraged him to adjust the lines for comfort as I tied. The humidity did not allow my hemp rope to fly across skin as normal, but I made due. Attaching an ankle cuff, I was ready to lift him.
I tied a lifting line to his hip harness and picked up his center. I asked him if he was ready. He was.
I asked Lynk to sit into his harness and then lifted his ankle cuff, pulling the line all the way through one of my carabeners. He was upside down.
I asked him how he felt. He was good, except the hip harness was biting a bit. Lynk is quite fit. While up, he realized his frame possessed very little padding for my ropes.
I let him down slowly. He stood, and I eased down some stress on the lifting line of his hip harness. For future suspensions, he would ask for more lines around his middle.
We transitioned to the next tie. I wrapped rope around his chest creating a simple harness. I attached a line from his chest to my ring. Checking that he was ready, I lifted his chest and hips. Tying a line to his thigh, I lifted his leg. Finally again rose his ankle.
Once more, he was doing well. I asked about his neck, seeing if he wanted some extra support. Like my tie with EvilMike, I quaded my rope, slipped it behind his head, and took the rope to my ring.
Lazing in my ropes, Lynk remarked how he now understood why people liked suspensions so much. He said he could lay in it for hours.
As he gently swayed, quietly meditating, I looked back to check on Nomad. She was up in the air, suspended sideways, adjusting her ropes.
As she worked and Lynk lazed, I smiled.
As the Sun's light grew dim, I began letting Lynk down. By the time all my ropes were on the ground, coiled and put away, the light was gone.
Lynk went up and came down safely, a new convert to suspension. He was a successful, and my last, Fusion rope practice.
I asked D3 if he wouldn't mind blacking my boots, seeing as my shift was up in fifteen minutes. He agreed, sitting on the ground as I remained in my chair, setting up his kit as I stashed mine away.
He then asked, "Do you need to go anywhere?"
"No," I replied. My commitments for the evening didn't start until much later, about two hours from then. This was his tester, to see how much care and attention he could give to my leather. In my view, he had all the time in the world.
We started with my showing him how to unlace my boots, first trailing up the boot & around the rosettes and then back down over the rosettes & through the side loops.
As he began with his cleaning, I as usual slipped into my happy floaty place. His hands massaged my calves. Pressure and sensation mixed with the feel of having someone so close to me servicing my wears. My head rolled back and I sighed.
To condition my boots, he used a mixed of Black Gold and Hubberd's. I loved the visual of him rapidly rubbing his hands together and them applying the mixture on me. As again his hands kneaded into my flesh beneath my leather, my sighs grew into moans. My eyes closed; my head collapsed back. I fell into the feeling of the service, and got lost in his hands.
When I peaked, just once, I saw what looked like Hubberd's on his lips. I smiled, closed my eyes, and allowed myself to be lost again.
His work mostly complete, I explained how to re-lace my boots, a chore all its own.
His work finished, I offered him a tip. He refused. He knew it would come from the tips I'd made earlier. Instead he told me to put the money back into my kit.
Not able to compensate him monetarily, I asked if I could give him a hug. He stood up on his knees into my seated arms.
As our arms initially intertwined, we somehow naturally... gently... kissed.
And kissed a little more.
And a little more.
Our lips parted. Our tongues played. Before I knew it, we were making out.
My hands trailed down his back and gripped his ass.
He started sucking on my tongue. Normally, I hate it when people do this. It's only happened to me once before and it was not a pleasant experience.
But D3, when he sucked my tongue, and played with my ring, I was so fucking aroused I started grinding against my metal chair and panting like a begging puppy.
As he sucked and I bucked my hips, I came right there in his arms, the smell of Hubberd's still fresh on the both of us. I never wanted to stop kissing him.
But, eventually, we did. Our kissing ended, we then actually hugged, and then slowly broke apart.
I slouched back into my chair, the intensity from the past minutes washing over me.
D3 asked what I was up to that evening. I knew I was to black Stefanos' boots, and had plans for play during the Circus. I asked him his plans. He, in fact, wanted a playdate with me.
We settled on midnight at the Dungeon.
I spoke about how I loved impact and showed off some of my bruises, exposing my breasts. He asked permission to play with my nipples, which I gave.
His tongue flicked and licked. His lips closed around and sucked. He bit, hard. I took in the pain, let it wash over me, until I had to call yellow.
We flirted. We exchanged numbers. We parted.
We would see each other again, later that evening.
Because of Friday night's storm, there was some confusion and a handful of things not going as planned at camp. The Pamporium was up and running though, albeit without hot wax, so I made my way over after lunch, a host of much needed calories after my abduction, in hopes of working my bootblacking shifts.
As I rolled past Oink's cabin, I saw TheatricalToy there, along with others waiting to be let back inside to retrieve their things. She informed me she would not be bootblacking, but if I wanted I could still try.
When I arrived at the Pamporium, Amethyst consented to my endeavour. I pulled two folding metal chairs over to a clear spot in the tent nearest the asphalt path. I found two small empty matching garbage bins and flipped them over.
I unzipped my kit, a piece of well packed carry-on sized luggage, and I sat.
As people walked in and out, I looked for anyone wearing boots. However, with the hot day, there were none. Me, in my cotton dress and knee-high boots, seemed an anomaly.
As I waited, D3 came by. He was to be the experienced bootblack on shift (to my novice spot), but he wanted to check on Toy and help her through her current ordeal. He said he would swing by when he was again free.
And so I went back to waiting.
I scanned folks walking by, hoping to see leather. And then, a bite. I saw a gentleman walk up the lane in a pair. I called to him, asking if he'd like his boots blacked.
As he sat down in my chair, he introduced himself. His name was B, and he was also suppose to be on shift with me. I'd signed up for two back-to-back slots, giving me boot time from 2:30pm-6pm.
Now with a pair of boots to work on, I started. As I worked, I enlisted his aid. It was agreed he would stay by my side, just in case, answering any questions I had and giving me pointers along the way. He, in fact, could not black that day because of some shoulder issues.
While I worked, my friend Phoenix came over. She saw that I was bootblacking and asked if I could teach her. I was more than happy to help. She scurried away to grab her Master's boots.
As I finished up B's boots, he said he had another pair for me to black if I so wanted. I did. He left as well. Both soon returned.
As another pair of boots sat in my chair, I explained the basics of bootblacking to Phoenix as she worked on her Master's boots on the ground to my right. Meanwhile B sat on my left watching my work. I was both the teacher and the student.
Later I blacked B's second pair of boots, and he taught me a method for spit shining. Out of gratitude for his aid and tutelage, I asked him if I could kiss his boots. He agreed. Gripping his leather, I brought my lips to his boots, kissed and caressed both sides, and gently parted from his leather.
At one point SkinnyBitch, who was inebriated, sat in my chair. She wore shiny flip flops and asked if I could black them. I looked through my kit, found a clean toothbrush, sprayed it with water, and dusted very carefully, making sure to not remove her sparkles. Challenge accepted and accomplished. She giggled with delight.
While waiting for another customer, Stefanos happened to walk by. I turned, saw him, and smiled. I offered to black his boots, but he was on his way to a class. He suggested later, to which I gleefully agreed. I would meet him after the Circus that evening.
As my shift grew near it's end, D3 came back to check on me. After chatting with both my mentors for the day, D3, B and I agreed to come back the next day for another shift, as well as setup shop for the Dirty Pig leather contest. Phoenix and B then departed.
D3, however, stayed.
There was lots of water for everyone; we all were sweaty and exhausted. I slumped over, chugging a bottle, and then another.
Even with all my screaming (the scene had lasted about an hour and there were few times when I was silent), my voice was not hoarse. I'd never pushed my voice that long and hard before. It was nice to learn something new about myself.
Sugary things were the next to come out. Bananas, Gushers, and fruit cups circled around the group.
People rubbed my back, played with my hair, and made sure I was okay.
As Gray stood up, I rested my head against his hip, reached my arm around his leg, and leaned against him. Later he stepped away so others could come in to hug me.
After a few parting embraces, I waved him back over. I hugged him once more before he had to depart.
We all gathered up our things. My tattered clothes were coming with me. I tossed around the idea of making a blanket out of all my destroyed clothing from the weekend.
N3rddom had an entire box of things for the abduction, from safer sex supplies to many toys that didn't get to come out. We picked up all our trash. We left the place as we'd found it.
The group disbursed. People had playdates, classes, and staff errands to attend to. N3rddom said he would walk me back through the woods to my cabin. My other captors walked across the small bridge towards the other side of the lake.
We had been in the obstacle course, a part of camp I had never visited before. I'd say my scene was an excellent introduction to the space.
As N3rddom and I trekked back up the rocky and muddy hill, I held his hand. Both of us were still high on adrenaline and endorphins.
We began talking about the experience. I laughed jovially that I would be bra-less for the rest of camp. Gray had, in fact, cut off the only two I'd brought with me.
N3rddom was slightly anxious. He very much wanted to make sure I'd had a good time, that his devious plans had been successful. I assured him that all went well; I'd had a splendid time.
N3rddom began mentioning all the things he had planned: an ass hook, clover clamps for my pussy. But the group never got around to his other implements because everyone was having so much fun just hitting me.
"You know Kristen, this was very much a love abduction. Everyone there was there because they are crazy about you...When you get down, when you feel like shit, remember everyone there loved you."
My abduction had a special guest. They walked into my line-of-sight after all my limbs were restrained, somewhere in the middle of my pain. I hadn't heard their voice before then either.
They wore beautiful boots, black with red trim and buckles at the top. They used those boots to step on my stomach. They stepped on my chest. They stepped on my face and smeared the mud from their walk through the woods to my abduction onto my cheeks.
Murphy ordered me to compliment the special guest on their boots.
"I already did earlier." I had, in fact, seen the special guest wearing those boots before my class and remarked on how beautiful they were.
"We don't give a shit," yelled Gray. "Do it again!" He punished me for my sass. I screamed out in pain, and then in adoration of the boots.
"I love your boots, X. All I want to do is kiss and lick them."
"Now you are a filthy fucking slut," remarked Slut.
With her hand now free from my cunt, Slut transitioned to biting me all over: my chest, arms, legs, stomach.
With PrudeNate's hand inside me, I soon asked permission to cum again. I was refused.
I pushed through the pain, now not just the scratching and punches and biting, but also willing my body to not react, willing my muscles to not contract, willing my orgasm back.
Murphy said I would gain permission for my cum if I screamed out my name, Cabin Bitch For Life. I did. I came.
[Added thanks to PrudeNate:
As my torment continued, someone remarked that there was nowhere on my body that had not been punched. PrudeNate, however, disagreed.
"There's somehwere she hasn't been punched yet." The group looked to him in astonsihment, asking where.
"Here," he replied as he punched my cervix with his fist inside me. There were many nodding heads of approval, as well as a few at-a-boys.]
During the duration of the scene, whenever I began to catch my breath, or Gray and Murphy thought I was getting too quiet (as in I wasn't full throated screaming or sobbing), the duo beat me more.
"We want your voice gone. You're not going to stop screaming." I don't remember which of the two said that.
N3rddom, who I'd barely seen throughout my ordeal, came into my line-of-sight, punched my chest, kissed me, and whispered into my ear, "Aren't you glad you asked me to do this?"
When he stood back up, he also remarked, "What happened to you mindfucking us?"
With PrudeNate fisting me, CandleLover's nails gripping my breast, and Slut's teeth sunk down into my stomach, it became too much. At one point, Slut bit hard, pulled, and swiveled her head back and forth.
I tried to break free. I was so sweaty it was hard for everyone to hold my limbs as I wrenched my body around. I got an arm out, but was soon restrained again.
I needed to get away. I was able to curl my body away from Slut, but she never let go of my stomach. She just wouldn't stop biting me.
Finally I had to scream, the most guttural scream of my life. "YELLOW!" Immediately people relaxed their grip. I curled into a ball away from Slut, away from her teeth. It happened to be into Big Bro's lap.
I just needed a moment. I just needed water. I just needed Slut to not be biting me.
After I chugged a bottle of water, I said I was okay. I thought we would go on.
Instead Big Bro called it. I was done.
Lying on my back, I was now completely naked. They pulled off all remaining pieces of fabric of my tattered dress, as well as slipped the strap of my Hello Kitty bag over my head.
CandleLover held my left arm. Cannonball gripped my right arm. My back rested on their thighs. Murphy was on my right leg and Gray on my left. I couldn't get away. There was nowhere to go.
Slut again drew targets, this time on my chest. The marker she used scratched my skin terribly, a mere warm up for their punches. With her targets drawn, Slut began fisting me while others gave me more pain.
First people took turns abusing my chest. Murphy intended to use his double barrel shot gun method, but he made me ask for it. The first time I asked, he said I wasn't loud enough. The second time I screamed as hard as I could.
"Murphy, please hit me with the double barrel shot gun!"
He slammed both his fists into my chest. I was grateful for CandleLover and Cannonball supporting my torso, even if I was their hostage.
Now it was Gray's turn. He told Murphy how Big Bro was mentioned in my interrogation. Gray said how he didn't punch as hard as Murphy, so he made up for it in number of hits and increased speed. Gray punched quickly all over my chest. He also struck my stomach and my thighs.
Gray again pulled out his cane, the one that was great for leaving marks, and continued to attack my chest. He hit my nipples and lashed at the underside of my breasts.
Then both Murphy and Gray sunk their fingers into my flesh, waves of pain surging from their pressure points manipulations. Meanwhile CandleLover's nailed gripped my breasts and scratched my skin.
I was given some reprieve as Cannonball poured water into my mouth. I gratefully gulped down the entire bottle, getting about a minute break before the torture continued.
With my short breather, I was finally able to start enjoying Slut's fisting, whereas before it had been a way to endure the pain. As she continued to work, I could feel an orgasm rising. N3rddom brought out a vibrator and placed it on my clit. The crew made me endure more pain before I was allowed to cum.
When I asked permission, Murphy insisted I beg for my orgasm. He made me scream out the names of the event organizers, but they were nowhere within hearing distance. Then he made me ask the photographers, who had been shooting the abduction the entire time.
When I begged the duo to allow me to cum, the male of the two replied, "In a minute."
"I like you. You can run with us," said Murphy.
Gray gripped my throat. My eyes locked on his. He began counting back from five. When he finished, I was allowed to cum.
Finally, finally, I felt lustful beautiful warmth surge through my abdomen. Finally I was rewarded for my pain.
Slut switched out with PrudeNate. Time for Round two.
"Whatever someone has done to you, they can do it again."
"Oh shit."
With my knowledge that Gray was indeed a part of my abduction team, the possibilities for pain, restraints, and all kinds of meanness increased exponentially. My level of dread for what was to come skyrocketed.
As the truck traveled, we passed over the uneven terrain of the camp. I had no idea where we were going.
When we stopped, I was pushed out of the truck onto the ground. I heard Murphy ahead of me and felt him tug on my chains, pulling me forward. I was to walk the rest of the way to my fate.
My Hello Kitty bag was still slung over my shoulder, a dangling dead weight as I was marched along.
My dress was in tatters, barely clinging to my body. Another bra had been destroyed (but, since Gray had ripped one of my bras before, technically it was allowed).
The terrain was a little rocky but mostly muddy; I guessed we were in the woods.
When we finally stopped, I felt a log under me as Murphy dragged me onto it. My legs straddled the large piece of wood. I was pushed down onto my stomach. My dress was ripped still more, exposing my back and backside.
My captors started with spankings. At first it was Slut's big blue cock smacking my ass playfully. Soon, though, Murphy had a better idea.
I knew Big Bro's love of firing squads, having experienced the Hitachi Firing Squad last year at Rope Camp. He suggested the entire team participate in a spanking fire squad. So many hands stung my body all over my back and ass. I screamed and tried to wiggle away. Of course, there was no getting away.
They turned me around on the log, pulled off my hood, and Slut's big blue cock was now in my mouth. Murphy gripped my hair and bobbed my head back and forth on Slut's strap-on, encouraging my efforts.
There was yet still more abuse to my ass. Punches, for which Slut drew targets before her and others inflicted their blows. A cricket bat, who strokes were at first wickedly stingy. But then N3rddom (I'm assuming it was him since I know he owns a cricket bat) turned the implement and began giving me thuddy hits. Those strokes were but a small respite as next out came a cane; more stingy pain eliciting my cries.
Again I tried to crawl away. Instead they just flipped me over, my back now on the log. Apparently one side was cooked enough. It was time for the front.
Big Bro had cradled my head and neck as he tackled me and we went down to the ground. Very quickly, a hood was over my head.
My Hello Kitty bag was still slung over my shoulder, lying somewhere on the ground, as they pulled my arms back and secured them with manacles.
"Ah, glasses please." Someone slipped up my hood just enough to grab my spectacles.
With my glasses safe, I began fighting back, trying to wrench my arms and legs free. Multiple hands gripped down on me. Once my limbs were secure, they tried to raise me to standing. I resisted.
"So, that's how you want to go."
They lifted me. I don't know how many people it took, but each limb was raised off the ground, bending my back into an arch. I felt like a cross between a sky diver and a pig on a spit being carried to dinner.
They threw/shoved me into the back of the truck I'd seen before. The bed was hot, the metal warmed from the day's Sun. They pushed me in further as others also hopped in.
"Ready." I heard a door close, the truck start. We were moving.
There was a rip; I think someone used a knife. The front of my dress was ripped down. My clothes were coming off.
They went for my nipples. They slapped and pinched; I yelped and fought back more.
As the pain began, I had a mini panic attack. For a moment, I thought I couldn't breathe in the hood. But then I realized I was screaming bloody murder, so obviously I could indeed breathe.
Someone, I think Murphy, shoved me to one side of the truck and into someone else's arms. I listened to the two of them speak and recognized a familiar voice.
"You motherfucker!"
Friday night, the night of the storm, the very night before, I absentmindedly made my way to the Dining Hall in hopes of Midnight Snack. There was none, but I did find friends to chat with.
As we spoke, the topic of my abduction came up. Gray, who I had listed first on my approved roster, pled ignorance. He said he never got any email from N3rddom. I tried to not show my disappointment.
Fast forward to Saturday morning, me in the hot truck bed, pushed into someone's arms, and then being pissed off beyond belief.
"You thought I was too busy to check my email?"
Such a mindfuck.
I had a feeling...
When I woke up Saturday morning, I knew from that breath on my abduction could happen at any moment.
After a quick shower, I donned my purple and black dress, as well as my purple flats, and headed down towards the Pavilion. I was to demo bottom during the first class session.
I was nervous. And I had a feeling.
Something told me my abduction would happen after my morning class. Looking at my schedule, I saw I had a huge block of time where I wasn't doing anything. For a few hours I had no obligations and no classes I wished to attend. I hadn't done this on purpose; it just happened.
So I had a feeling.
As the class finished up, I got my things together slowly. I had had so much fun demo bottoming, I was happy, gleeful. And, at a few points during the class, I had forgotten about my abduction.
I will admit, though, it did occur to me that because I was restrained the presenter could've left me bound on the matt, and the team could've swooped in, picked me up, and carried me away.
But that didn't happen...yet.
As I was hanging out with friends, chatting and smiling, Slut came over. She had a brilliant idea: Waffle House. I finished putting on my clothes and grabbed my things.
As we walked up the hill from the Pavilion, my mind drifted to thoughts of eggs, bacon, sausage, and waffles.
Strangely, though, I saw there was a truck parked on the grass above us. And the camp photographers were hanging out by it. And they were looking at me.
And then I heard the boot stomps. Clomp Clomp Clomp. "Oh fuck." BOOM!!!
I was on the ground. "Hey pretty girl," said Big Bro.
A hood went over my head.
"But I wanted Waffle House..."
It had started.
Having spoken to N3rddom A LOT about my abduction, as well as having sent him an email detailing my thoughts on the scene, he set out to contact and organize my would-be captors. After his initial inquiry, the following is the message he sent them.
Subject: Abduction of Poetic Desires Details
I have talked with Kristen a good bit about this. Much of our discussion ended up in a memo she wrote for me about how she imagined the experience would go. If you have comments or additions, just respond to all and we will discuss them. If you want to do something to her that is not covered herein or that you aren’t sure about, just ask me and I will put it to her or decide based on our discussions.
Call or text if you have any questions: xxx-xxx-xxxx
Thanks,
N3rddom
Props:
BYO: gloves, condoms, wipes, cigars, hurty things, Strap-ons, dildos, water bottles, knives
We need people to commit to bring the following from their personal stashes.
Chains
Zip ties
Hood
Handcuffs—preferably fuzzy ones.
Fucks-all?
One type of all-purpose silicon or water-based lube
Water for scene and aftercare
Clothes for Kristen after the scene
Rope for tie downs--but rope must not touch her body. This last part will be a surprise, but I think a nicely challenging one for someone who responds so greatly to rope.
Characters
No role playing is required. Kristen’s original idea was that her assailants were coworkers. Later, she rejected that and we came with the prompt "Hey pretty girl" based on her being hailed by men outside a bar after DO (or was it TNG) Happy Hour one night. Our latest discussions have determined that we are ourselves, her friends and lovers. I pointed out that, given the participants, it was likely at least one of us would make her laugh at some point. That’s OK by her. She brought up that she might try to mind-fuck us back by asking how people who claim to care about her could hurt her like this. For myself, I probably won’t engage her verbally in some sort of argument—I am thinking I won’t speak directly to her at all unless whispering sweet evil in her ear.
We all need to keep an eye out for other people getting too close. Kristen writes:
No one may enter the scene unless I give pre-approval.
Entering the scene also includes watching the scene in my eye line and talking/speaking so that I can hear them. If others wish to watch that I have not preapproved, they MUST STAY SILENT AND OUT OF MY FIELD OF VISION.
Setting
Time: Saturday, 11:31 AM outside the Pavilion. As of the draft schedule, no one is teaching at this time and Kristen will be finishing up demo-bottoming for a class. I think it will be a surprise.
We could totally spend days sharing schedules and deciding on the absolute best time for everyone. Let’s start with this time and see what we can make happen.
Place: The scene originally discussed involved Kristen being bound and left in the open for others to use. She decided that was a good idea for the second kidnapping experience, not the first. Given her concern for certain people involving themselves (I will take care of that part if they show up or lurk), I think the woods are a good idea. Since we will be starting by the Pavilion, an obvious place would be the obstacle course. We will carry/drag/push her there. We should look for a place with some decent attachment points.
Mood: Jovial sadism. Comfortable cruelty. We are a bunch of good friends having good times, laughing, joking, and fucking her up. Perhaps we should not indicate an interest in her pleasure, except as her experience of pleasure degrades her further.
Rising Action
Murphy will be directing the take down itself--more on this later.
As Kristen leaves the Pavilion, one of us, standing to the side of the steps in the grass, talking to someone she knows is not involved in the scene, will greet her: "Hey pretty girl." She will come over and engage the speaker in conversation. This person should probably be themselves—for the moment. The take-down team will move into the Pavilion and, blending with the crowd leaving the class, take position behind her. This team, led by Murphy, will then take her down. Kristen plans to fight. She will need to be restrained and coerced into going down the path to the obstacle course.
I will have a longish chain we could lock around her to maneuver her. I kind of like the idea of chaining one foot and letting her try to get away. We could let her try to run away with the hood on and catch her a couple of times, if that appeals to you all. Kristen writes:
Then, either through brutal force (knock me off my feet) or slick threats (knife to the throat; arm bar; etc) I am restrained. You mentioned you'd like the use of a hood. Whatever way you choose, I want my eyes to be covered and my wrists & ankles restrained. This is will take, at minimum, five people. (Note: Please take care with my glasses.)
I am carried off, either on people's shoulders, dumped into the trunk of a car, the back of a cart, etc. I will, most likely, be crying, pleading for help, etc. BE FOREWARNED: I may fightback, hard.
Climax
Kristen has made it explicit that Gray, Murphy, Slut, DeepEnd, and Darien have permission to do to her things they have done before in play. What they do should not be taken as permission for the rest of us to do the same. For example, DeepEnd can cut her as he has before. If anyone else wants to cut her, you need to ask first and make sure Kristen tells me it is ok. Similarly, Gray has burned her with a cigar. She’d like that to happen again, but maybe leave that up to him.
I am going to let Kristen describe the assault herself.
I am eventually dumped on the ground somewhere in the woods, or just in the grass in the middle of camp, or by the lake; it is somewhere different. I am restrained to a tree or rock or something to keep me from running away. Of course this assumes you don't want me to run away in panic. If you do, dump me, I'll stumble up, etc.
When I am finally bound/circled to where the hurt can begin, I can be punched, face slapped, kicked, elbowed, flogged, caned, whipped, spanked, scratched, hair pulled. NO ELECTRICAL.
I have a phobia of my nipples being torn off. You may pinch and twist, but NO NIPPLE CLAMPS.
Breath play is allowed.
No watersports or scat. No vomit. No spit.
You asked about insults. Anything sexual is allowed (cunt, whore, slut, bitch, etc.). However insulting my intelligence or my body will not fly. I will most likely end the scene right there, or at the very least call black [see Safewords below]. Taunts are fine. Interrogations are awesome.
You may force me to do sexual acts (oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, hand jobs, fingering, fisting, titty fucking), but all parties must be wearing proper STI barriers and there must be lube if there is anal. Strap-ons are more than welcome, as well as vibrators.
[Exceptions to barriers if the receiver so wishes: Oral sex with Gray, Murphy, Slut, & Darian; also Gray has fisted me once without gloves or lube, he may do so again if he wishes].
. ..
Speaking of, common sense reigns the day on all things: no broken bones, no face bruises, no burns that will last more than a week.
Knives are good. No cuts to the face.
If you come up with other ideas, as always feel free to run them by me and I'll give a yea or nay.
- Safewords
I want to follow the traffic light standard:
Green means "good/keep going". Yellow means "give me a moment" or "check in with me" or "not that implement/act" or "stop using that on me now". Red means "END THE SCENE NOW"! I hope to not Red.
[Added variations: Beige means "I'm bored/speed it up." Black means "headspace trouble; check with me." Orange means "I'm getting close to done."]
My one addition to this is Cigars: there will be cigars. Blow the smoke in her face, make her eat ash off your cocks—standard cigar play short of actual burning will be quite welcome.
It will probably be warm. We should be wary of Kristen’s dehydration and give her water as necessary.
Dénouement
I had mentioned the possibility of cutting souvenirs from her hair, and she said we could take locks that wouldn’t be seen—definitely no hair cutting that would be noticeable—but I am thinking we just skip that. Feel free to mind fuck her about shaving her head, though, because she REALLY doesn’t want us to do that. I have explicit permission from her that we may threaten absolutely anything as long as we stay within her stated boundaries.
When we are done with her, we leave her as she is when we’re finished, bound or not doesn’t matter. I want her to have the experience of feeling abandoned and alone, then calling out for help.
At that point, the aftercare team swoops in and takes care of her. Since we are crazy about her, the rest of us can then sneak back and check in. Regarding aftercare, Kristen writes:
Aftercare will need to be, at minimum, water and human contact for ten minutes to possibly include hugging, cuddling, head stroking, back rub, etc. If it is chilly, a blanket would be preferable or one of my hoodies.
PoeticDesires Abduction Cheat-Sheet
Explicit Yes:
Punching
Kicking
Slapping face
Elbowing
Flogging
Caning
Whipping
Spanking
Scratching
Hair pulling
Breath play
Sexual insults and taunts
Threats
Oral
Vaginal
Anal
Hand jobs
Fingering
Fisting
Titty fucking
Explicit No:
Spit
Vomit
Watersports
Scat
Electrical
Nipple clamps
Cuts to the face
Broken bones
Facial bruises
More than very minor burns
Insulting her intelligence
Insulting her body
Cutting hair
Sexual contact without STI barriers
Safewords:
Green ="good/keep going"
Yellow = "give me a moment" or "check in with me" or "not that implement/act" or "stop using that on me now"
Red = "END THE SCENE NOW"!
Beige = "I'm bored/speed it up."
Black ="headspace trouble; check with me."
Orange = "I'm getting close to done."
Going into Fusion, I knew I wanted an abduction. I had previously attempted one at the last Fusion, but instead called off the scene.
For this year, I chose my friend N3rddom to organize and coordinate the affair with my approved captors to make this scene happen.
As part of the process, N3rddom asked me to send him an email outlining my thoughts and ideas included in the multiple conversations we had leading up to the event.
The following is the email I sent him.
Fusion Abduction Ideas
- Sunday
I will leave the entirety of my Sunday free. Any classes I may want to attend I will inform you of, and should I deviate from said schedule I will text/call you immediately. This leaves the whole day for you to plan.
After much thought, I'd rather the abduction happen on the last day. It will build up the anxiety and I will not have to worry about being so worn out from the scene that I'd have to cancel anything after it.
[Note: I opened up both Saturday and Sunday due to scheduling conflicts from both myself and my captors.]
- Clothing
For the day, I will wear destroyables (save my bra) which can be torn, cut, or burned off of me. These scraps may be given away as trophies, left to me as mementos, or a combination of the two.
- "Hey pretty girl."
I imagine the participants tormenting me all day with the code phrase, "Hey pretty girl." This would be their greeting, and I would be obligated to come over and speak with them warmly, never knowing if this is the time when my abduction starts.
- Participants
List of people ok-ed to participate. I left you out because, well, that is obvious.
1- Gray; 2- Murphy; 3- Slut; 4- SirRonC; 5- DarianIlRe; 6- BlackBeard; 7- DeepEnd; 8- Lochai; 9- Lqqkout; 10- PrudeNate; 11- CandleLover; 12- SkinnyBitch; 13- Celeste
If you would like to have someone not listed participate, please run the name by me before Fusion and I will give a yes or no. No one may enter the scene unless I give pre-approval.
Entering the scene also includes watching the scene in my eye line and talking/speaking so that I can hear them. If others wish to watch that I have not preapproved, they MUST STAY SILENT AND OUT OF MY FIELD OF VISION.
People absolutely not allowed include X, Y, and Z. [Names redacted out of courtesy.]
- Aftercare
Aftercare will need to be, at minimum, water and human contact for ten minutes to possibly include hugging, cuddling, head stroking, back rub, etc. If it is chilly, a blanket would be preferable or one of my hoodies.
Names of possible aftercare folk: 1- Amethyst; 2- RockStarIsis; 3- Celeste (talk of hair time); 4- persons listed above if they wouldn't mind/could do it after being in that dark headspace.
- The Scene
"Hey pretty girl," a friend says to me. I walk over and greet them, chatting happily.
Then, either through brutal force (knock me off my feet) or slick threats (knife to the throat; arm bar; etc) I am restrained.
You mentioned you'd like the use of a hood. Whatever way you choose, I want my eyes to be covered and my wrists & ankles restrained. This will take, at minimum, five people. (Note: Please take care with my glasses.)
I am carried off, either on people's shoulders, dumped into the trunk of a car, the back of a cart, etc. I will, most likely, be crying, pleading for help, etc. BE FOREWARNED: I may fight back, hard.
I am eventually dumped on the ground somewhere in the woods, or just in the grass in the middle of camp, or by the lake; it is somewhere different. I am restrained to a tree or rock or something to keep me from running away. Of course this assumes you don't want me to run away in panic. If you do, dump me, I'll stumble up, etc.
When I am finally bound/circled to where the hurt can begin, I can be punched, face slapped, kicked, elbowed, flogged, caned, whipped, spanked, scratched, hair pulled. NO ELECTRICAL.
I have a phobia of my nipples being torn off. You may pinch and twist, but NO NIPPLE CLAMPS.
Cigar play is allowed.
Breath play is allowed.
No watersports or scat. No vomit. No spit.
You asked about insults. Anything sexual is allowed (cunt, whore, slut, bitch, etc.). However insulting my intelligence or my body will not fly. I will most likely end the scene right there, or at the very least call black [see Safewords below]. Taunts are fine. Interrogations are awesome.
You may force me to do sexual acts (oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, hand jobs, fingering, fisting, titty fucking), but all parties must be wearing proper STI barriers and there must be lube if there is anal. Strap-ons are more than welcome, as well as vibrators.
(Exceptions to barriers if the receiver so wishes: Oral sex with Gray, Murphy, Helen, & Darian; also Gray has fisted me once without gloves or lube, he may do so again if he wishes)
You had talked about walking away and leaving me "alone" to cry and wail for help; this is an option if you would like.
Speaking of, common sense reigns the day on all things: no broken bones, no face bruises, no burns that will last more than a week.
Knives are good. No cuts to the face.
If you come up with other ideas, as always feel free to run them by me and I'll give a yea or nay.
- Safewords
I want to follow the traffic light standard:
Green means "good/keep going". Yellow means "give me a moment" or "check in with me" or "not that implement/act" or "stop using that on me now". Red means "END THE SCENE NOW"! I hope to not Red.
(Added variations: Beige means "I'm bored/speed it up." Black means "headspace trouble; check with me." Orange means "I'm getting close to done.")
- Conclusion
I hope this answers a lot of your questions. If you have any more, please ask.
Reminder: This will be my first abduction, so I do not know how I will react or how long I will last.
Hopefully this will be a lot of fun and a scene I am never going to forget.
