Amazing piece by MelissaBond
This was my second year attending Camp Crucible, and our first time doing what is known as the “Full Monte”, a 9 day experience. I felt it important to write about it this year, because there were several significant differences compared to last year, with the most significant being that this year, I knew what I was getting into! if you are not familiar with Camp Crucible, you may want to read last years writing first.
This event, is for us, vacation. Truly a vacation. Even though we live only 20 minutes away, staying at camp is like being transported to an island in the Pacific or elsewhere. And this year, my goal was to relax and enjoy it. In the months since last years camp, the highlight of which was my kidnapping, I began to create a kidnapping idea even more ambitious then the first. I started a writing which I never published, but shared instead with a few friends. Their feedback quickly made me realize I was going down a bad road. Not so much the content, but rather the impracticality of expecting people to read it, and execute it. Kidnapping, as it turns out, is a difficult business. After the reality check, I halted development and began to seriously consider the difficulty of improving on last years fantasy. As I realized that I may have reached my zenith to early, I began to back away from the idea, until I decided that this year there would be no kidnapping for me.
The thought of no kidnapping was actually depressing, but I focused instead on what else I could get out of camp, improving that which was marginal last year. One of the first things I realized was that this year I would be there twice as long as last time. Last year I got sick immediately upon returning home, and I thought if I were to get sick half way through camp this year, I could be in for a rough time. So my first effort was to make sure I stayed healthy. The weather was to be a bit hotter this year then last, and that affected a lot of things. I did not swim in the pool last year. This was something I definitely wanted to do. I did not participate in any of the pony events. This was going to be a focus this year, and I would also pay more attention to the things my Mistress was doing that I did not watch last year. With these new ideas in mind, I adapted my expectations to the new “relaxed” camp itinerary.
Our pre-camp preparations were just as hurried and disorganized as the previous year. Why does vanilla life get in the way so much when your trying to plan for a good time? At least this year we had our storage containers, and all I had to do was fill them. It is hard enough for a girl to think of what to wear on any given day. Try fitting 9 days worth of outfits in 3 days worth of space! Creativity was required. As with last year, my Mistress and I went to have our nails done the day before the start of camp, with Baby Bethie and my sister, as well as Penguin8me. Last year was pink, this year was red.
With our nails done, gear packed, and car loaded, we headed to Indian Marker to meet with the rest of our Den family. As is our custom, we convoyed down to camp, arriving before the noon hour to take our place in line. At some point during the wait, I returned to our car to fetch something, and noticed a hissing sound. It took me a minute, but I realized it was air leaking out of Daddy Denny’s right front truck tire. Now, I don’t normally know much about tires, but I instantly knew that if the tire went flat right there in the field, that we would not be able to unload the truck in a timely fashion, and that fixing it would also be tough. I returned to the line to inform my Uncle Denny that he had a leak. After reassuring him his crotch was dry, I suggested that he follow the “better to ask forgiveness then permission” rule, and advance his truck at once to our cabin so that our arrival and unloading at camp could continue unabated. After he looked at the tire, he agreed this was a good plan, and down the hill he drove. Meanwhile, my brain opened the door to the secret room of tire repair, and I ventured in to grab a tire plug kit provided by Penguin8me and start the search for an air compressor. Once we got checked in, and we drove down to unload our rig, I used my supergirl X-man powers to repair Denny’s tire and save the day.
With my former life of fixing everything that breaks now receding in my memory, I could fully dedicate myself to helping my Mistress set up our beds and unload our gear.
Once that was done, it was time to start our chore, that of driving the taxi’s. We were smart and split up the hours needed this time around, so we would end up driving Friday and Wednesday. It was already a good bit hotter than last year, so I was determined to lower my standards of dress, and just be comfortable. This would be a re-curing theme for the following days.
Taxi driving this year was a little more interesting then last. Mistress and I did it at the same time so we could wave at each other as we tooled around camp. I seemed to get more fares this time, and enjoyed chatting with the people I met. I do have to admit, those EzGo machines are pretty darn impressive. Most of them seemed to be somewhat distressed, and in need of general maintenance. Somehow though, they plugged along. The loads those things will handle is way more then what they are probably advertised to carry. Throughout the week, we drove a total of 4 four hour shifts. Eventually every taxi driver knew which EzGo was the best one to get. Some were faster than others, or ran more smoothy. One of my shifts was late at night, and I upstaged the other drivers by equipping my taxi with a Bluetooth disco ball and speaker. So my ride was cranking tunes, and lighting up the trees with laser light splashes. My Mistress expressed her displeasure with my sexing up my ride so I offered her the equipment, but naturally she was secretly proud and let me keep it. It didn’t take long for someone else to try and copy me though, so it made me smile to know I had started something.
Anyway, after our first taxi shift that first Saturday, it was time to set up camp and focus on enjoying our first evening in the Oasis. The Den always does a top shelf job of putting together a really nice place to hang out. Unfortunately, I’m not 100% compatible with the activities that go on there, so I have to pick and choose when and where I sit, and I was usually the first to retire for the night.
From here out, my memory of exactly what day and in what order various things happened gets fuzzy. Due to the extensive wait time (the last pics didn’t come until October, almost half a year since camp), so I am going to just relate various events and activities as best I remembered them. Thankfully, right after camp, I jotted down some bullet items of things I knew I would want to cover, so hopefully nothing big gets left out.
I believe the first full day we were there, my Mistress took me to the lower dungeon. Little did I know I was walking into a trap. My Mistress, sensitive to my sadness over the abandonment of my kidnapping plans, had instead, formulated her own plan to kidnap me. Once in the dungeon, I was surprised by the appearance of Perette and Penguin8me. Quickly these three tied me to a floating table, and informed me that I was to be fucked and DP’d senseless. This they did, each with their own strap-on. I was penetrated repeatedly and forced to deep throat their hard unforgiving cocks until I was laughing maniacly. Once that was over, things took a strange turn. Perette had stepped away, and I was allowed to fuck my Mistress with the strap-on. Then Pengin8me fucked my Mistress. This was a first! She had never been fucked vaginally with anything that wasn’t attached to me, or by me. Pengin8me was very pleased with this cherry, as well she should be. Then after my Mistress came, they reversed and my Mistress fucked Penguin8me. The world is indeed a strange place. While I have no pictures of my rape (sadly, it seemed as if every time we played in the lower dungeon that week, there was never a camera around), there was however, this time with Perette….
My Mistress had a date with Perette. Perette had been wanting to whore herself out at the Red Ass Inn, and wanted some prepping, so my Mistress happily agreed to meet her in the lower dungeon for a session. I tagged along because I didn’t have anything else to do, and on occasion I can assist in some way. When we got there, there wasn’t much for me to do but watch, so I took up a spot in the corner. Since they were on a floating table, I wanted some elevation, so I took a chair and put it on this wooden thing that was in the corner. This gave me a great view, and kept me out of the way.
There were several scenes going on in the dungeon at that time. One of them was VA_Kaye with her partner, Ironass, laying on a mat with him doing some things to her which I do not specifically remember. What I do remember however, was at some point she was naked, and he led her outside. They went out the lower end, and hugged the wall. The opening of the side of the dungeon was higher than their heads, so with VA_Kaye’s back to me, she was certain they had privacy. Her top however, knew fully well that I was the only one around who had a clear view of the two of them. She knelt down on the ground, as he undid his fly, and slipped out Mr. happy. I immediately thought she was just going to give him a blow job, but I quickly realized, no…. no… he was peeing on her! He hosed down her face and chest, as she made little cries of degradation and submission. When he finished, he told her to stay, and he came back into the dungeon and fetched a bottle of water, then went outside and poured that all over her to wash her off. They then embraced, and he held her close as they shared a touching moment. It was then that he decided to put the finishing touches on her little private scene of humiliation as he pulled away, looked squarely at me and pointed. Va_Kaye turned around and turned beet red as she realized I had watched the whole thing. She let out an embarrassed squeal as they both walked back in and gathered up their things. I latter sent her a camp mail post card with a drawing of a penis pissing on a rock, and the caption. “You rock!”. LOL
One of the most shocking and beautiful moments of camp happened that first weekend. Daddy Denny, our Den leader, had told everyone he had a surprise, and he wanted all of us to see it. At the appointed time, we all made the trek back to the rock labyrinth. He asked us to all stand around the circle, while he drew Baby Bethie into the center. She knelt in front of him, as he informed her that he had a new lock made for her collar.
He made a nice little ceremony out of swapping out the lock, but then suddenly things took a shocking turn, as he pulled her to her feet, and then knelt down in front of her and asked for her hand in marriage. We were stunned! Everyone gasped in shock and joy, as tears started flowing everywhere and the entire tone of camp changed for a brief moment.
I had not intended to cry so early at camp. It would not be the last time however.
At camp, like in our youth, the mind tends to switch gears quickly. My Mistress had been wanting to try some outdoor suspension bondage on me, and we sought out the help of Sirropealot, who had done some suspensions with me in the past. He advised her of an easy method she could try on her own. It was easily accomplished as it turned out and we both thought it worked great!
As I had mentioned earlier, I wanted to play with the Ponies some this year. We got a little taste of Pony Play last year, with a cart ride back from the Top/Bottom auction. We had a few opportunities to do this. The first thing we did was go up to the Pony camp when they were having the Carousel ride. This was a fun event, where they simulated a amusement park ride by leashing all the ponies to a central pivot point, and then had them all marching in a circle around this center point.
I felt very lucky to be behind the beautiful Ponygirl Bree. She gave me a very smooth ride.
Mistress and I had enjoyed our carriage ride the year before, and I thought it would be fun to duplicate it. I approached the Pony table at dinner, and asked if someone might be available to take my Mistress and I to the Top/Bottom auction. They talked among themselves, whinnying and neighing like they do, until one of them spoke up and volunteered. He was a capable pony who hailed from the great state of Texas. He had a very cool carriage that had lots of LED lights on it that flashed different colors. It was a very stylish way to ride to the auction. At the appointed time, he picked us up at Cabin G, and we climbed on board. We were assured by his handler, that this would be a self guiding pony, so no reins were needed. He was pre-programmed to know where to take us. So once everyone was comfortable, off we went. The Top/bottom auction is held at the amphitheater, which is at the bottom of a steep grassy hill. Next to it, is a valley between the pool and the theater seats. It was dusk, and the grass was wet with dew. Being a taxi driver, I have a pretty good sense of speed, balance, inertia, load, braking effort required for a given situation and so forth. As I would learn shortly, ponies which come from a state that is in large part a flat desert, do not. As the pony trotted off towards the right side of the cabin at the top of the hill overlooking the amphitheater, I commented “Aren’t you going to stay to the left and go down the valley? You do know where you are going, don’t you pony?” “Yeah, I got this.” was the wonderful English this pony was capable of speaking. I began to add up in my mind, the weight of the cart, myself, and my Mistress. I figured that this pony was pulling about 450 to 500 pounds. I also noted that the cart did not have any brakes of any kind. Now, I’m no equestrian expert, but I do live in Amish country, and see horses and buggies all the time. I happen to know for a fact that not only do Amish buggies have lights and AM/FM radios, but they have hydraulic brakes on the front axles. Yup. And the horses are a half ton or heavier, with a load close to their own weight. My pony was probably around 200 pounds, and outweighed by his load a good 50-80%. Add to that his rubber sneakers squeaking in the wet grass, and my hope of this ending well was rapidly vanishing. As we started down the crest of the hill, I said “Hey um… if you want us to jump or something, feel free to say so. There is no….” “No it’s OK, I got this!” The now heavily panting, leaning backwards pony said. He was aiming right for the gap between the rows of seats. I judged there to be less than a foot of clearance between the cart wheels and the seats. The results of a wheel/seat collision started to unfold in my head. The seats are firmly cemented into the ground. if we hit one of them, the wheel is either going to snap off, or launch us into the air. It didn’t matter. The time for thinking was now over. We entered the isle, and thankfully cleared both sides. But the run-away condition of our transport was now clearly in effect. Speed was increasing, and the pony was running as fast as he could while at the same time applying maximum braking effect. I braced my right leg against the floor, and jammed my left ankle boot into the seats as they flew by. My 4″ wood block heels had little effect as they clattered off the seat tops like a child on a bicycle striking a picket fence with a stick. I watched in mock surprise as the ponies sneaker-ed feet flew out from under him and his legs shot out in front of him as he plummeted towards the ground. The poles of the cart which he held dutifully in his hands found the ground, and quickly dug in like a boat anchor in thick mud. The cart stopped instantly as my butt left the seat and my still rigid right leg pole vaulted me over the front of the cart and over the pony. I came down hard on my left foot, which barely missed the end of a seat row. My knee buckled from my downward weight and my body leaned way forward as my right foot took to the ground. I realized I was likely to do a face plant in the next moment, but somehow I found the strength to rebound and my only hope was for my feet to outrun my body. I became upright again, and regained my balance, but now the task was to get myself stopped before I ran into the stage. I put the brakes on and stopped just in time. I spun around and looked back up the hill. I had been so involved in my own struggle for survival that I hadn’t had time to consider what had happened to my Mistress! She was crumpled over the front of the cart with her face on the horses back. I raced back up to the cart in horror, not knowing if she was alive or dead. I was relieved that she was very much alive but it was obvious her legs had taken a pretty bad hit. Apparently she slid off the seat and her knees slammed into the steel bar that ran across the front of the cart. Myself and a few other people got her and the unscathed pony untangled and we put her on a bench seat. The auction was soon to start, and she didn’t want to make a scene. She insisted she was OK, but it was clear to me that she was not. I called for the medic, and they came down with some ice packs. Other people got her drinks, a blanket and were fawning over her as well. I could tell she was in a lot of pain. We got her some aspirin, and she toughed out the auction. When it was time to go back to cabin G, she was very adamant about not wanting anymore pony rides. Ever! While the pony and his handler were very apologetic, I couldn’t help but think of an old school jar of Elmer’s glue whenever I saw him. My Mistress limped through the rest of camp, and well into the summer. My boots would never be the same either. All told though it could have been MUCH worse for us, and everyone else at camp. It would have been very easy to break a bone, collide a skull into a wood plank and cement bench, or crash into someone else. Had we needed an ambulance, I don’t know what would have happened. I’m very thankful that the experience can be laughed about now. I do hope the pony community owned this incident and has educated themselves to prevent a re-occurrence.
We had a few super soaker battles in the pool over the course of camp. It was there that my maleness would sometimes show. I had to work hard to try and limit myself to the functional equivalency of my female peers, but it was so darn fun! Oh I was a dead eye with that super soaker. I could hit someone squarely in the noggin from all the way across the pool! Be that as it may, I didn’t get any grief from our awesome friends who we swam with.
One of the most heavy duty limit pushing activities that I did at camp this year, was to force myself to watch the energy pull that Daddy Denny and Painboy wanted to do. Daddy Denny had been telling me for weeks prior, that he really wanted to do this. I knew this was going to be a full Den experience, and so I wanted to participate. But flesh hook stuff really squicks me out. I saw glances of it from my periphery last year, and knew it wasn’t for me. I also knew that it was not as much a kink thing, as an American Indian ceremony. Like many of the things Painboy does, it is a human experience to the core, and a spritual one. Like his crucifixions, they transcend the here and now, and bend reality into the next dimension.
Daddy Denny had his hooks installed first, by Witney, in the upper dungeon. i stayed nearby in full support, but totally kept my eyes from the proceedings. He never cried out, and I knew this was the part he was dreading the most. My girlfriend Baby Bethie was in tears, as I would have been, had this been my man, or my eyes upon it. The weight of this was as much upon her as it was her Daddy. Once it was done, I could tell he was flying high, having conquered a self imposed limit. He walked tall with a confidence afforded only by noble men. They say a coward dies a thousand times, but a brave man only dies once, and it was not his day to go. For Painboy, this ritual having been carried out many times before, he would laugh and talk his way through it like a diabetic testing their sugar level.
Once back at cabin G, Painboy led the Den family through the ritual which included a nice history lesson and the burning of sage for the purification of the space and those present. I felt small and insignificant in all this, too wound up in my own objections to really feel worthy, but I knew that my feelings were not the issue here.
As the proceedings progressed, we walked a short distance to a space under trees on the edge of the field, and they were connected together by cords. The drumming commenced and they danced a kind of dance that led into their pulling against each other. Painboy had told Daddy Denny that “he would hurt him”, and so I knew this was the true test for which Daddy Denny had waited so long. Both men were worthy of each others attention, and I looked away mostly, but gazed long enough to have the images seared in my memory. I saw the blood running down Denny’s chest and bit my lip trying desperately not to share that pain. I watched the drummer and lute player to moderate my anxiety and somehow I got through it. When it was over, everyone was hugging and things were fine. I hadn’t shed a tear, and felt proud of myself for getting through it. As I approached the stairs to the porch of the cabin however, something cut loose in my brain, and the beam which had been holding up my artificial floor snapped with a loud crack, and I crumpled at the stairs, sobbing uncontrollably and clinging to the railing for support. Others comforted me, I’m not sure who. After 5 minutes or so of that, I began to recover and was fine. I got myself something to drink, and probably went to lie down for a little while with my Mistress.
By Thursday, our planned date with Sirropealot and his slave Juliette came to fruition, and the four of us met in the upper dungeon. Our Dominants began to conspire on how best to rig two wild and unruly women from the overhead hoist. Juliette had been thinking about this for a while, and contributed a very well done barrel tie which we both wore as the foundation for holding our weight. We got tied, and we got hoisted. The results speak for themselves.
The Weather had been perfect most of the week. What little rain we did have managed to put a damper on the formal dinner photo, so we did not have the pictures we had hoped for, but my Mistress and I wore our outfits twice so that we would get a good picture of our formal dinner attire. Each year I like to come up with a themed outfit. Last year the formal dinner coincided with our anniversary, so it was a no-brainer. This year i had to come up with something, which was supposed to be an all tan colored leather ensemble, but the Asian manufacturers and their distorted world views of what a woman’s large should be, managed to torpedo my look in the final days we had before camp. I ended up with this deal instead.
Last year we had an A-10 Thunderbolt do a fly by. This year, we had a biplane. LOL It whirled and circled above, checking us all out as we swam in the pool or did whatever. While there view was not as good as the ones the truck drivers get when they make their deliveries to the kitchen, I’m sure they felt free to look at whatever they wanted for however long they wanted.
As the week waned, Mistress and I went to the upper dungeon on Friday night for some play. There was some pretty fantastic drumming going on up there, and we enjoyed the ambiance. People were playing, and the energy was fantastic. My Mis
tress and I commented that it felt like “the old Crucible” on half street, when we first became familiar with the club. It was a good feeling. So were the things she did to me. 🙂
I particularly enjoyed being led around, Her property on display, as we watched everyone else.
We were also honored to witness Urticus and Idge’s scene, whereby she earned a new pair of cuffs. It is a ritual they do, where by she is flogged with thin leather strips that will be woven into non-removable cuffs on her wrists. It was their 21st anniversary and a very touching time.
Saturday dawned bright, and there were two things going on, one which I looked forward to, and one which I did not. As for the former, it was the day of the Fox hunt. My friends Foxy Roboto and Adorkableness would be focal points in the hunt. As for the later, it was Painboy’s crucifixion day.
First, time to get some food. Breakfast was always looked forward to. I would be a guide bunny for Foxy Roboto’s fox in the hunt, so I wore my ears and tail to the cafeteria.
Once it was time for the hunt, I met the pony play participants at the pony camp. I had no idea what to expect, having never done this before. Foxy on the other hand, had been studying this all year, and had embarked on a personal training regimen to ensure his success. He had spent all week, studying the camp, and planning his route to evade capture. Surely this would be easy. The concept for my job was simple enough, ensure the placement of the “scent” flags. They had to be visible from the previous flag. We got a 20 minute head start, and off Foxy went, with this bunny bouncing behind him. He proceeded certain of his direction and well thought out route. We went around cabins, into the woods, down to dead ends, back tracking and ducking and staying low all the way. At one point, we were going up the hill along the edge of the woods with a clear view of pony camp. Foxy was getting significantly ahead of me, as my main concern was not ruining my favorite pair of purple leggings. My knees were getting muddy! Stupid Fox! What is he doing? “Um… Foxy! Foxy! They can see us!”. “Stay down Melissa!” “Foxy! I’m a bunny, not a frickin’ ground hog!” What was he thinking, was all I could wonder as we circled back around getting closer and closer to the pony camp. When we arrived in the safety of a cluster of trees, Foxy explained that “Adorkableness has more stamina than I, so I know I cannot outrun her. I’m relying on the fact that my legs are longer, and I will be able to go faster than her to reach the safety of the cage.” So this is your plan? Get within 300 feet of the cage, and just make a mad dash for it? And I have mud on my knees for this? Nerds. Got to love them, but all this bunny could think was that I sure could have planned this better. Oh well, no matter. The gun shot went off and the dogs were released with their riders right behind. We had been planting, I think, blue flags as we went. I did notice a line of white flags not that far away. Like that scene in “The road warrior”, most of the chasers went off in the direction of lower camp, save one. This person went in the opposite direction from everyone else, right towards us! It was Adorkableness. For a moment, I considered this smart university PH.D. type chic had somehow implanted a tracking device in Foxy’s ass. It seemed plausible. She was following the white flags, and any moment she would appear at the end of this line of trees and see us in plain sight. Foxy’s breathing quickened as he poised to launch towards the the safety of the fox cage in the pony camp. He awaited my signal as I watched his girlfriend running towards the white flag I could also see. I decided timing wise, that it would be best if, rather then letting her round the corner at speed, it may give my fox a better chance if I forced her to reverse direction. At the appropriate moment, I signaled Foxy to run. He dashed out into the open field in a full run. Adorkableness saw this as she reached the flag, and turned to take off after him. Their respective paths were almost at right angles to each other, and I could see that Foxy would make it. It would be close. Damn she was fast for having such short legs! Then the inexplicable happened. I watched in horror as Foxy’s blue jeans slowly worked their way down his hips. Why he didn’t feel this, I can only attribute to the adrenaline he must have been pumped with. In a short distance, his pants were down to his knees, and he was effectively hobbled 50 feet from the prize. His girlfriend triumphantly captured his tail (which I think was on the ground by then) and relished the moment only briefly before realizing the devastating disappointment her boyfriend was suffering from. Near tears, Foxy’s world crumbled as his year long efforts to improve his physique proved to be his undoing. It seems in his scientific nerdatious mind the idea of becoming fit, and loosing weight, had nothing to do with his waist line becoming smaller and somehow…. he never bought a belt. The irony was thick as I tried to console him, but he was genuinely upset and became only more agitated as the game played out and he realized he would be the ONLY fox not to reach safety. Conversely though, his failure lifted up his girlfriend, by making her the only person to capture a fox, and so I felt their activity balanced itself out, and all would be good in the end. Knowing Foxy Roboto, he is, at this moment, in his secret lab, working on a device that will freeze time for everyone but him, so he can simply take a seat in the cage and win.
Not all of Foxy’s camp was doom and gloom however. He did score a major prize with his kidnapping fantasy. We were invited to observe, and I learned that there is a bit of a rush to knowing when and how someone is going to be kidnapped. His fantasy was role play, in which he would be an alien from another planet, to be captured by a government agency and taken to a secret lab for experimentation. I checked his profile, and didn’t see any pictures I could include with this narrative, so I’ll just have to improvise. You see, he has this toy. It’s an ovipositor….
It’s hollow, and in theory, you can shove something through it to “impregnate” your victim. That turned out to be easier said then done. It’s soft, and so a tight anus around it will pretty much close it off, but I digress. Foxy was sumerally captured by a team of no less than 11. I kinda wished as I watched it, that I had a getto blaster with the sound of a low flying helicopter playing to add to the ambiance. The captors manner of dress, and professional behavior with their radios and everything was extremely top notch. They had me believing they really were from the government! Foxy was dragged from his tent, and hauled off to a remote cabin. There, they tied him face down and molested his posterior with lots of scientific commentary and alien consipracy speak. It was really fun to watch. They retrieved some eggs made out of what I perceived to be Jello, and shoved it through the ovipositor. Most of them just squished, made a mess, and didn’t go in. But, as long as he believed they were going in, I think that is all that mattered. By the way, if you want to see me deep throat that thing, there is a video in my profile.
The Crucifixion of Pain Boy has become an annual tradition which is, in my opinion, the roughest thing one can witness, especially if you are Christian. Painboy’s ordeal is the real thing, complete with all the nails. He has it down to a science.
I’m not going to elaborate on how I hid at the Oasis, sobbing, not even looking or able to see what was going on. I figured if I didn’t survive the energy pull, there was no way in hell I was going to watch the Crucifixion. I finally got the nerve up to venture near when the scene was over. I found Sirropealot, and put my arm around him. He put his head on my shoulder. HE PUT HIS HEAD ON MY SHOULDER! OMG! He had cried, or was choking back the tears. I walked with him back towards his cabin, as we reasoned there was no way to describe what it is that one feels watching that. That’s all I’m going to say about it. Talk to somebody who has bigger balls than I, or read a bit of what I wrote last year. Needless to say, Painboy is always doing better then everyone else.
On my last tour of duty in the EZGo, I had Adorkableness on my lap, teaching her how to drive it. She couldn’t reach the pedals, so by sitting on my legs I could afford her the opportunity to drive it. This was a lot of fun for her, since, appearantly, she doesn’t drive.
The final activity I participated in, literally as we were packing to leave, was the Kidnapping of Di53. Ths poor girl had endured the entire week, looking over her shoulder for kidnappers sneaking up on her, and by this point, she had probably given up hope of having it happen. Ah, it sucks to let your guard down. My job was simply to distract her. Appearanty I’m somewhat distracting. 🙂 They nabbed her, and before I knew it, I had my fingers in her ass and then pushed an asshook into her.
Having had that done to me several times, I found myself wishing I were her. You can read all about it in her writing here…. https://fetlife.com/users/2670060/posts/3842936
There were some other things I did that I wanted to mention, but didn’t remember a lot of detail about. There was a class on using Ardino controllers to program your sex life. I went, in case Urticus needed some help since he kinda only has one hand good for that kind of work. There was a class given by Hammer and Roxie which I found interesting, but they have become the subject of much drama this summer, so I doubt we will see them again soon. The meals and excellent food are always worth mentioning. We did the midnite snack this year. Something we didn’t do last time. I gained 5 pounds. We won’t be doing the midnight snack next year! Yes, I’ve lost it since. Thank God. I have an awesome camp family, and thanks to my writing last year, and munch interactions we seem to have grown that family by selling another cabin’s worth of people on the idea of coming. They all had a first camp experience which hopefully they have shared. Check out the profiles of some of the people I mentioned. They may have writtings to read. Maybe this writing will cause YOU to come if you haven’t. Start saving up now, and you will be in better shape next March when it’s time to register.
Well that was camp in a nutshell. As usual, Camp drop was suckie, waiting for pictures was suckie, the fact that it is not camp now is suckie. With so much sucking going on… hmm… where is my sister?
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We didn’t really know what to expect from Prague in terms of kinkiness and BDSM, we heard some rumors about their great 
One for the credit cards and “just in case” money and the other is the party money for the night. Obviously the girls never sees the first one.
Those are the core of our kit, 5-6 items that are all enough to be carried around and highly useful whether we are playing in the hotel or in a play party. We have collected those over the year during our travel so sadly we can’t really point on where to buy them. All of them are really painful and leave great marks 🙂
Or something like our version of little black dress. Latex has great impact and it is always sexy. This one specifically was bought at Honors, London
Whether you are a stripper, a dominatrix or just a kinky tourist you have to have some high heels boots. Not much fun to walk on those late at night after a party to the nearest public transportation but what can you do…
Rubber for fun
Wicked Grounds 
SF Citadel
MR. S LEATHER
Folsom street fair
Up your alley
Once you land in Amsterdam, all doors to freedom are open.
Casa Rosso
UNLEASHED 
Mrs Madienne B&B
Casa Rosso
The Eagle
Bizarre designs
Red stairs party
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