“Kohai, make me proud.”
To say I was nervous for Dirty Pig would be like saying child birth is uncomfortable. I was jittery, anxious, shaking almost. I stayed somewhat sane through a series of semi-related events.
I pre-planned my possible outfits for the competition, as well as any necessary props, packed them in a suitcase, and stashed them in the tent that was to be our Green Room earlier in the day.
I sat with Gray and Rough in the smoking lounge near my cabin, reasoning that the competition would not start without one of its judges. I hoped being around people would calm me down. I demo-ed eating ash for a bottom new to cigar play and was amused that Gray was a Mashmaker (or was ash-blocked by Rough, depending on how you looked at the situation).
I scribbled notes about my day (bootblacking in the Pamporium, Shay & Stefanos’s protocol class, spending a little time with my friends at our cabin). But, for the most part, my gut was twisted up in knots.
When Gray revealed his outfit for the competition (his full leathers: vest, chaps, boots, hat and gloves, with easy access to everything one would want), I knew it was time to make my way over to the Sex-o-Rama stage.
Walking over the grass, I could hear the emceeing of my friends; the kinky pride parade preceded the competition, ending at the stage where the big show would begin. Once arrived, I met our two wranglers for the competition, two generous souls who volunteered to not only help us with any necessary props but also kept us on track during the contest.
I stood around for a while, hopping from one foot to the next, trying to stay calm, breathe deep, and find amusement in my friends’ crazy comments. I preset two outfits, reacquainted myself with the props I needed and where they were.
Then came the reinforcements. Shay and Stefanos arrived. Shay immediately asked me what I needed. She rubbed my back, kept me calm. I told them I was mostly okay, but I was concerned about bribing the judges. Stefanos went to work; Shay stayed with me.
Randomly, Gray called me over. He needed his paddle from his cabin. I dashed across the grass, happy to have something to do to kill time. I easily found his paddle in his big bundle of ow. I quickly walked back across the hill and handed him the toy. As I did, he grabbed me and pulled me in close.
“Once the competition starts, I can’t treat you like my kohai. I have to judge you like any other pig. But, before the competition starts, I just wanted to say one thing to you. Kohai, make me proud.”
I felt a surge of pride. Of worry. Of expectation. Of determination. Of courage.
I joined my fellow contestants in the Green Room. I wanted this. Really wanted this. And I was going to do my damnedest to win.
My Dirty Pig Experience
– Pep Talk
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