the life and musings of a kinky slut

Friday Night


After my piss cherry was popped, my Friday night continued…


We all gathered in a circle around our two friends as the handfasting was about to begin.

I felt a bump in my right arm.  Looked to my side.  Saw Gray, dapper and handsome.  I slipped my arm into his.

We stood side-by-side with many others witnessing a ceremony of love and devotion.  As our two friends joined their lives for a year and a day, my eyes watered.

I wish them happiness and joy in their love.


As our group dispersed, I walked over to D3.  My arm now wound into his grip as we leisurely strolled towards the Sex-o-Rama stage.

There was about ten minutes before the burlesque show was to start when we arrived.  I saw the Dirty Pig judge milling about with the other performers.

“May I make an introduction,” I asked him.  He said it was okay.

I eased D3 over to the judge.  I could see the instant attraction between them.  My work was done.

I stayed back, watched the first act of the show, then moved on to my next adventure for my evening.


Bear laid on the same mat I had been on Wednesday night.  I worked under the same rig I’d been tied to that first evening.  Our scene had an altogether different tone, though.

I wanted floor work; Bear just wanted to be in rope.  I bound their arms, legs, and moved their limbs this way and that.  I attached to the side eye bolts, turned their body about, and challenged their range of motion.

All the while, I had a huge smile on my face because I could not stop talking about my time with Boymeat.  I raved about our initial encounter.  How he had read me so well.  How I had dropped to my knees to lick his boots.  Later dropped to my knees to suck his cock.  Had cum from his infliction of pain and the idea of him pissing on me.  I spoke about my cherry pop in the grass.  The grin on my face hurt from how big it was.

But then, as I began untying Bear, there he was, slipping into the Dungeon from the side exit, the door right next to our rig.

“My ears were burning,” said Boymeat.  Rightly so.

He crept towards me as I loosed Bear’s ropes.  Gently tapped his cane against my leg.  Bear smiled.  I saw one or two people out of the corner of my eye observing my predicament.  My gregarious nature turned shy.  How much had Boymeat heard?

I eased Boymeat out of the moment.  I still had rope to lay on Bear’s body, a different tie, a meditation my friend wanted.  Boymeat read me and slipped away.

I tied Bear in an Ebi.  Took them to the place they wanted.  Then released Bear’s body, hugged them in gratitude for the experience, and we parted ways.


I dropped off my rope kit, grabbed my cigar accoutrement, as well as my netbook, and headed down to the Pavilion.  I was late.

When I arrived, she was still there.  I apologized profusely; explained my scene ran long.

We sat on a bondage table.  I opened up my computer and started talking.

We heard the crowd before we saw it.  A fire breather announced their arrival.  The mass followed his flame down towards Primal Arts.  She looked on.

And then we heard the boom.  The fireworks burst in the air.  I could see the look on her face.  Could see the need in her eyes.

“It’s okay,” I said.  “Go.”

She ran towards Primal.  I packed up my things and went about my evening.

Categorised as: Boymeat | D3 | DOF | Emotional | Friends | Gray | Rope

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