Where the boys want to be

Camping is one of our favorite activities. We try to go at least once a year, usually with a group of like-minded friends. It is a rare treat that we get to spend this much time together, without the worries of everyday life.
The first day e sets up the tent, sweating and swearing as he works. I make several feeble attempts at assistance, feeling more impotent with each passing moment. My work will begin soon enough, as I will set up the inside of the tent, and I know how he likes it.
After lunch, we hang out with friends, getting reacquainted. I enjoy this time, but I look forward to the evening. As the sun begins to set, he prepares for our activities. Dressed in snug black leather pants, a skintight black t-shirt, black leather vest, and a Master’s cover, he exudes power and dominance. His face is expressionless so it is difficult to tell what he is thinking’ what he plans to do to me and with me this evening. These thoughts make my body quiver with anticipation.
Some of his tools turn out to be mundane items: plastic wrap, duct tape, and wooden clothespins. These things take on a whole new meaning when placed in his hands. I am more intrigued than ever, and I cannot imagine what lies in store for me.
As darkness envelops the camp, he ties my hands behind my back and leads me into a wooded area a short distance from our campsite. After walking for a short hwile, he blindfolds me and places me with my back against a tree. I have no idea what is coming next, but I know that he has an evil imagination. He wraps me to the tree with the plastic wrap, talking as he works. His voice is low and sensuous as he tells me how much he loves me, how beautiful I look, how pleased he is to be there with me.
He takes the blindfold off so that he can see my eyes as he continues to work. Suddenly, he is holding a knife. He holds the blade at eye level and tells me not to move. As the tip of the blade touches the corner of my eye, I can feel my heart beating in my throat. I d my best not to tremble as the blade slides down the side of my face to my throat, but the sensation leaves goose bumps on my skin.
Just as I think he is going to slide the knife further down my body, I feel the tip of the blade sliding between my lips. I begin to open my mouth to receive the knife, but he stops me. He tells me to keep my mouth shut as the blade moves in and out of my mouth, sharp and hard, like a swollen, erect cock.
He fucks my mouth with the knife for what seems like hours, and then his tongue replaces the knife in my throat. His eyes are open and bright as he rapes my mouth with his tongue. As his tongue continues to assault, I feel his hands caressing my body over the plastic wrap. Then I feel his hands around my throat. His hands and tongue continue to restrict my intake of air and I feel mnoisture dripping between my legs. He inflames a passion in me like nothing I’ve felt before.
He cuts through the plastic wrap, unties my ahnds, and turns me around so I am facing the tree. He brings my arms together and reties my7 hands around the tree, in a bear hug. I feel his hands on my bare skin and I know that this is not close to being over. I feel him bite into my shoulder and I wonder if he will draw blood this time. Most of the time he holds part of himself back when we do this work, but I want him to let his beast out. I don’t know if he will. I think there is some fear there, but this night feels different. He has already gone beyond his usual limit. I believe that the breast will come out on this night and there is nothing either of us can do to stop it. His beast has a strong, almost insatiable, hunger for pain and blood. He has been able to hold it at bay in the past because he hans’t found a willing, naturally submissive, partner to satisfy his needs. I hope to be that partner.
Pain is like a drug for me, and I crave it like an addict. His hands caress my body, encased in soft lambskin gloves, and it is an unexpected pleasure. I relish the feeling of his gloved hands because I know it will not last long. And then I feel the exquisite sting of a thick wooden paddle on my ass, and I recognize that our dance has begun. There is no warm up to this pain, and I have to smile. At one time, in the not too distant past, I needed much more preparation for this kind of work, and I am sure he was frustrated by that. Now, however, there is little need for warm up; I am ready to take the pain he is offering and transform it into the energy he needs to maintain. It continually amazes me how well we work together.
The paddle crashes into my ass so quickly that I lose count of the strokes but, thankfully, I am not required to keep count tonight. He knows that when I begin to fly, my attention goes elsewhere; there have been times when he wanted to keep my attention with him and he would require a count of the strokes he administered. In those instances, if I lost count, he would start over again at one. He always wants me to remember who is in control, and I do.
Suddenly, I feel his body against mine; his cock bulging in those tight leather pants, and I moan softly. The pain as the leather rubs against my bare, abraded skin is exhilarating. He grabs the back of my neck and pulls my face to his, forcing my lips open with his tongue and kissing me deeply. I hear him growl as his teeth sink into the tender skin on my neck and I know that he will feed tonight. As I feel the sucking sensation of his mouth receiving my blood, I am delirious with happiness. This is what I have been waiting the last for years for. We are forever bonded, by love and by blood. I am his and he is mine.
He unties me from the tree, and lowers me gently to the ground. As I come back to reality, I see that his cock is out of his pants, dripping and ready. He enters me quickly and pounds himself into me, as if trying to reach my center. I can feel myself nearing orgasm and he begins to howl. Our mating is deep and strong, and as we cum together, I hear yelling and clapping around us. It is only then that I realize our friends have witnessed our union, and they obviously approve. Camp just keeps getting better and better.

September 13, 2010
Ethan Thomas Young