I will share in this post the tale about an enchanted forest of sorts. You’ll see what I am taking about in a moment. And it’s all real, it’s all true.
My boy loves a particular forest event at camp. I lead him on collar and leash and he is naked, sometimes blindfolded and loaded with a backpack that holds our supplies. I lead him down a path, around a small pond and to the entrance of the woods. We will pass many people as we make our trek, and they will smile, knowing that something special is about to happen to my boy. Sometimes I will make my blindfolded and naked boy wear a sign that says “touch me please”, and many will stop us along the way, hands petting my boy all over his body. Most hands are gentle and soothing. A few are not. But these few are usually the hands of the friends we have made, and they take greater freedoms with my boy because I give the silent, smiling nod of approval.
We enter the forest where perhaps thirty other participants have gathered. I choose a station for my boy. It could be a fallen log, a place under a dangling rope hanging from a sturdy branch. It doesn’t matter, it’s just a spot. I will secure him there, hands often cuffed, sometimes feet too. I am his monitor and protector, and sometimes I have company in this task. I am there to approve what can happen to my boy, and what cannot.
I take him to this place because it is a wonderful opportunity for him to have playtime with other adult males. Lovely, sexy adult males. Women too….just as adult, just as sexy. But here it is generally the males I am after, wanting their attentions on my boy.
My boy knows not what will happen to him. But generally, this is what happens: My boy will be bound, naked, collared and silent as he waits for what befalls him. I will sit nearby, my poster board sign encouraging certain behaviors, forbidding others. The silence is good. I do not want my boy to hear the negotiations that often take place. I want him to hear only his own breathing, the inaudible whispering of his caretakers, the warm breeze in the trees, and the moans of the others who are just like him…..naked and vulnerable.
Imagine being this way…..so fully unaware of what is going to happen, so exposed, so nervous. And yet happy. Aroused. Curious. Hopeful. Afraid. And completely safe, inside and out.
My boys knows that I am never far. That I guard him fiercely. That we do this because we enjoy it, and because it makes us happy to be able to live out fantasies such as these. There is no point in doing it if it doesn’t have a happy ending.
My boy waits, his arousing anxiety building, and then it starts. A man will approach. Perhaps two men together. Or a man and a woman. They are sometimes wearing leather, sometimes just jeans. A few are naked too. They will approach my unassuming boy, take a look, and then read my sign, learning what is ok, and what is not. Like a hungry person at a buffet, they will circle him, looking him over, deciding which are his tastiest parts. A hand will caress an ass cheek. Or lift a leg so that cock and balls are fully exposed. My boy will feel fingers under his chin, tilting his head upwards so they can get a good look at him. It takes a few minutes, this dance. And all the while, john is left wondering what is about to happen to him.
It doesn’t really matter what happens to him. I will leave that up the imagination. I will let john share if john chooses to share. Just know that he gets to spend a couple of glorious hours as a human statue…. being petted, caressed, spanked, flogged, used and ignored while many others around him are experiencing their own similar fates. When I have decided that he has had enough, he is walked to a nearby blanket that I have brought, somewhere near that little pond, and we lay together in dappled sunlight, my pet pressed against his Mistress, a soft smile of deep contentment on his lovely face.