Welcome back!

We have been home from Dark Odyssey Summer Camp for two weeks now and I haven’t said much about it. I’ve been processing my thoughts but I have a list of posts that I want to write about the experience. A lot happened there. I met Wendy, a longtime blog friend that is even more awesome when you get to see her in person. I got to spend time with my dear, sweet Viviane who is one of the most comforting and lovely people I’ve met in a long time. I also got to meet many new friends and take classes and workshops with remarkable presenters and educators.

Despite the plethora of experiences that I did have, I am going to start with one that I didn’t. A gangbang.

It was Sunday afternoon, laying around in the pool, that I got the idea that I wanted to have a gangbang. Just by merit of timing, the idea was already ill-fated but Jay tried to organize it for me. Needless to say, most people had pretty full dance cards and getting that many cocks to convene in one place at camp was, well, not going to happen.

But, in the spirit of better luck next time, let me tell you a bit about what I have in mind.

I want to be violated by multiple people in a way that is really quite beyond my control. I first got a taste for this during our playful threesomes with Ian. He and Jay often pin me down and tickle me and molest me. It is fun and sexy and I struggle, giggle, and moan. But what if I screamed and cried and begged them to stop? It could go either way. The reality is that I have two tall, strong men pinning me down and doing what they want to me.

I got to thinking that I really love this, the feel of my muscles straining against their power. Knowing that I can’t get away, can’t stop it from occurring. The ability to let go because there is nowhere else to go. Sure, I’m a rope slut and I like bondage of all sorts but actually being restrained by another person, unable to fight them off, is a totally different thing.

Suddenly the attention is divided. I can’t just think about the hand mauling my pussy or the teeth biting my nipples but instead have to focus on the fingers wrapped around my arm, squeezing tight enough to bruise. Or perhaps the knees pressed against my thigh, forcing my legs apart so that my unwilling wetness is revealed. And they can’t just focus on what they are doing to me, their animalism has to come out and it becomes just as much about the struggle as the sex.

The idea of multiple people making this happen for me, taking turns pinning me down and keeping my subdued while their companions touch me in every way they can imagine is an overwhelming urge. They can be faceless and nameless. I could be blindfolded or not. The details, the humans involved don’t matter. I am interested in arms and hands, mouths and cocks just as they should not be interested in me in this moment, just my sex, just what my warm and wet holes can offer them.

Fantasies like this are scary to some people. The lack of consent is alarming. There are feminists that would have some choice (or perhaps condescending) words for me. But it is mine and I own it. And I look forward, perhaps too eagerly, to the day that I can make it a reality.