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Cabin Sex is Spectacular.

December 19th, 2012

Master’s 40th birthday was on the 8th of October. This birthday is a biggie for him, as it is for most people, so we saved up some money, and took some time off, and planned a long camping trip in the Adirondacks.

And then it rained for almost a week, and the forecast called for more rain most of the days we took off.

In the summer, if it was only going to rain part of the time, and under normal circumstances, we probably would have gone anyway. If the temperature’s right, rain can be refreshing on a camping trip in the summer. It’s definitely nice to give a blow job in the rain.

A decent amount of rain means the streams we use to wash up (with environmentally safe soap if we use soap at all. We are camping, after all) are full, which means more room to splash around, and less money spent on bottled water. Ten minutes on the fire, and it’s drinkable and tastes a million times better than the best tap water. Something about getting it right from the source, I think.

Problem is, temperatures were dipping below 30°F at night, and a stream runs through the campsite we always end up with. We could probably make due with an extra blanket, and not setting up the tent we store our gear and food in, but the stream also hinders access to the latrine, and it’s a half a mile walk, give or take a few yards, between the car and campsite, over rather rough terrain. We’d get a great workout trucking our food, clothes and hiking gear back and forth to the car, but we wouldn’t have the energy to do anything else!

And the wood bill we’d rack up buying dry wood to keep the wet wood around the site going would more than make up for the lower water bill.

By the time we figured out what we’d have to spend to go on a “cheap” romantic getaway, it became abundantly clear that there was just no way. So Master found us a cabin to rent.

He kept telling me that for his birthday, he was going to beat me. I packed everything I could think of that could enhance his fun. And the night before we left, he set the mood.

We went to Lake George and wandered around the fort. We went to the Natural Stone Bridge and Caves in Pottersville. We went for walks, and drank beer while watching football by the fire. And he did, in fact, beat me. And I didn’t have a single mark to show for it. Call me confused.

I can’t tell you what his favorite part was. But I can tell you mine.

The kitchen and dining area only had valences on the windows, so when I was cooking or cleaning, I wore my fluffy pink Eeyore pants and the pink shirt he ripped when he snatched me up a while back. When we were ready to settle down, he’d send me to change into a flimsy, short nightgown. I was on my way to do that, and I think I was fucking off, fucking with him, seeing what he’d do. I stopped at the window to close the curtains, and was suddenly shoved forward across the daybed.

He pushed my legs apart, and pushed into me. The position had me high up on my tip toes. My calves, not used to this type of use, screamed in protest, and it wasn’t long before I was struggling to maintain it.

He made fun of me. The bastard. And whipped me. It was, in a word, divoon.

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  1. December 20th, 2012 at 05:01 | #1

    Rayne: Cabin Sex is Spectacular.: Master’s 40th birthday was on the 8th of October. This birthday is a bi… http://t.co/cnLCed4o #slave

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