Summer in Maine (9)

Lil walked around the camp, listening to the quiet in the predawn. Day started a bit later as summer ebbed. Insects were humming in their last desperate attempts to secure progeny for the future,  and her mug of coffee looked like an illustration as steam curls rose up and into the pearly air.

She’d slipped out of the ‘Big House’ as she had these last few weeks, checking on the camp. Twice she’d surprised deer at the edge of the pond, and once a large bull moose. Him, she had eyed warily. Almost mating season, and these 1,500 pound males were unpredictable only at this time of year. With the impressive height of nearly 7 feet, he not only made her look tiny, but he could squash her like a bug if he took it into his head to do so.

Thankfully, he’d waded across the beach to the far edge of the pond, taking his time and snuffling at a few water lilies left blooming over there.

Now there were people snoozing in the campsites, the bitter scent of campfire ash in her nose as she passed one site. The sound of male and female snores intermingled, and made her smile.

Her husband was awake, they almost always woke simultaneously. Last night he’d brought a greenie up to the house, another victim of the frigging harrasser that Noe had finally evicted. And hadn’t she been the sweetest thing?

She’d made some hot chocolate, a universal cure for shock, she thought with a quick grin, and then they had tucked her into bed between them.

She smiled remembering soft breasts, and hot kisses. Noe lay behind the sweet thing, nuzzling Gertie’s neck, while Lil had suckled those sweet tits. She hadn’t had a bed-sister in a long while. Leave it to her husband to find the perfect one on the first week of their kinky camp!


Sherry woke slowly, feeling the grit in her eyes from too much smoke from the campfire. She couldn’t move. Her hands were loosely roped together. She had a bit of play in them but there they were, cobbled together at the wrist.  Her legs were also cobbled together.  The collar was snug around her neck, tight but manageable.

And dear gawd she needed to pee.

She murmured softly…”Sir?”


She tried moving her head to see if His eyes were moving at all. But someone was laying on her hair, and it wasn’t clear if it was Him or her…or both of them.

oh GAWD she needed to pee.


This time a bit louder.

Still nothing. She tried squirming, but that was almost pointless. Between the ties, the confines of the sleeping bag and HIM pinning her, she was stuck.

And OH. MAH. GAWD. she had to pee. She wondered if her eyeballs were yellow. She wondered if it would leak out her ears. She wondered if He would ever wake the fuck UP!

SIR!!!” Her call this time was urgent. He shook with laughter.

“You were AWAKE?!!” she tried to nudge Him, but she was still immobile. “i need to pee, so bad, so bad. PLEASE Sir, may i pee?”

“Well, certainly not in my sleeping bag,” he laughed. “Come on, slut,” and He proceeded to haul her out of the bag and into the chill morning air.

The sudden slap of cold air on warm skin almost made her piss. She stood, thighs clapped hard together, as He unlatched her ankles. A sharp slap against her bottom had her jolting forward.

“Go slut, before you pee in the tent!”

She turned offering her wrists.

“Make it work slut,” He said, not moving to help her unzip the tent flap. “And don’t get a drop of piss in here or you’ll clean it with your tongue!”

Quickly she stepped outside. She was naked as a jay bird, but with a fast zzzzzzzzzzp, she closed the tent door, and bolted for the bathroom. Her tag flapped around and she noticed that He had marked it. It made her smile, even as she prayed she’d make it to the bathroom in time.


Prima watched the naked woman come tearing up the small slope towards the bathroom. She sat in the cold cast-iron bathtub, shivering and naked herself.

“Excuse me,” she called.

Sherry drew up short. “I’m sorry, but i really, really need to go…”

“i know, i see your pee-pee dance…but if you would be so kind as to piss into that bucket that’s inside the door, my Master would be pleased. He will be back in a while to pour it over me.”

Sherry swallowed hard. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to stand in there and piss on her directly.

“Really?” she asked, dancing from one foot to the other. At Prima’s nod, Sherri bolted into the bathroom to leave her contribution to the cause.

It should have been strange, two naked women in the woods of Maine, in the cool late summer air, talking about Sherry’s piss.

But this was summer in Maine.

At kink camp.