Monday, August 19, 2013

Saturday Night at Camp

It would way more organized to start writing about camp from the day we arrived and proceed through the days chronologically.   


 Sometimes things just clamor out to be written first.

Saturday night.  The last night was the most intense, like last year.  
I think it is the time when everyone tries to get everything done that they possibly can before it is all over.

In the afternoon, Master and I helped set up for the D/s formal, which is a dinner hosted by WiDomHer at every Tryst since the beginning of Trysts.  
This year, the formal also doubled as a wedding reception for a couple who celebrated their wedding at Tryst.
 Setting up was hard work, lugging heavy things around, turning a dungeon tent into an elegant hall for celebration, but it was also a time of great connection and closeness for my Master and me.  We  work well as a team, and he brought his creative spirit out to play in decorating the "cube" (suspension cube) where the bridal couple would sit.  

Just as we were heading out of the tent Master got the urge to rough me up, and he grabbed me by the hair, pulled me over to a massage table and pushed me against it, my head down on the table.   He thrust against me, enough to get me all hot and bothered then said we didn't really have time for this fucking around.   

These things are what I love about camp.  No one cares that you have these little random interludes where ever and when ever.  In fact, many of them are probably watching eagerly, the perverts.  I know I do when someone else is having a public "moment".   

Then, having gotten all sweaty and sticky, we headed off to the outdoor showers to wash up before getting dressed.   

Master looked handsome in a deep red dress shirt, black pants and red/black striped tie.   I wore my new sparkly rhinestone collar, a chain leash, an off the shoulder, short black dress and tall leather boots.   

The formal was a magical time for me last year at camp, and was no less magical this year for our having been part of the set up crew.   I had placed a kneeling pad or two near each of the tables, remembering how much I appreciated that having been done last time.  I knelt at Master's feet, chained, as he fed me my first few bites from his plate, symbolically, before he sent me off to get my own food.   He had a glass of champagne while I had some sparkling grape juice, which was quite tasty. 

We had a lovely time and some great conversation with our table-mates.  He doesn't put me under speech or interaction protocols even in a formal setting.  

More, much more, was in store for me that night, which I will get to writing soon...



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