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The Great Outdoors part the last Cinco The Great Outdoors four Part the last She slept all night and half the day. No crying baby was probably a large contributor to that. She wanted yesterday again, but I wanted different. I had a collar, so coller, a padlock and one of the long chains made her secured. Short chain for the wrists, in front this time. Short chain for the ankles (actually the other long one. Foot between the ankles, 19 feet making a tail...). Dug a new slit latrine at the edge of the chain radius. She got to dig it. She had a collar and a smile. She made lunch. My cooking at the time involved can opener and a pot. I had brought steak, eggs, stuff for sandwiches and the like. We made sandwiches, water, beer, wine and some other deli stuff. She did the slave thing. We usually didn't, but hey, it worked. Late in the afternoon she wanted to know what was next. Wasn't hard to come up with something. I'm evil. Evil, I say. Removed the chains, tightened the shackles, put the chains and sreader bar on her ankles. Blindfold, wiffle ball and had her sit on the chair. Hooked up the rope and pulled her up. She had very long hair. Came to just below her ass. She kept it in a braid. That made adding a rope to it easy. Adjusted the rope height to just the right height and she got eaten. I got blown. She squirted, never happened before. Never hhappened again. Didn't realize it was a thing. I decided a little impacting fun would be a good idea.I had made a flogger out of shoestring, a paddle, one of those plastic rods from a venition blind,and a poorly made whip. That wasn't popular, never did that again. I think I realized that when she was yelling something about super glue, gun, murder and me dying. Figured it was a bad idea. She was ambivalent about the plastic rod, paddle wasn't duly appreciated. Liked the flogger but loved the open hand. Nothing had changed. Oh well, some ideas cannot be improved. Once my hand gave out, darkness was coming. She came a few times. All was well with the world, the sunset was great. She had her own idea. Tie the rope in her hair off to the tree. Stuck the dildo in her pussy, tied her hand to it. When she would jerk her arms, the dildo pulled. Interesting effect. Broke out the flogger (hands still hurt and all that). Flogged her to another orgasm, twisted and pulled on nipples, and other masochist loving things. Let her down, set up the hobble again, found a broken cement block earlier, promptly tied the hair rope to that. She made steak (very good) baked potatoes in the ashes (damn outstanding) and a few other things that I probably should have left up to her. She wanted a bath so she drug the block down the hill to a small, really cold stream. She had too much wine so off to bed. With the cement block still attached. Not popular when she wanted to pee. Surprise.... Next afternoon, picked up, packed up and got ready to go. She thought about riding back in the box but decided that riding up front was better. Naked. With the rope in her hair. Cement block stayed by the tree. Before we turned south, she applied tshirt and shorts. Ate green chili cheeseburgers in Carrizozo. A bra Hurt so she went all the way home. She talked about the weekend on our way back, what she wanted next time. What she didn't like. Think poorly done whip. She was naturally a little dark but tanned quickly. This time all over, except wrist and ankles. Needless to say, it was a while in long sleeves. We got orders soon after, ended up retraining. Off to SAC and the frozen Michigan next to Lake Huron. She never was warm again. She did love the noise from eight noisy motors aturnin' and asmokin'. The box came with us through three houses to disappear abut four or five years ago. Along the way Number Two was added, I got out, wandered in to field sevice for a cell phone company. Retired. The Tree and The Box would come up in conversation in the dark of the night. Dimensions changed somewhat but could be adapted. Never did happen. We passed the area several time going between Ohio and her mom in California. Never stopped. Next time. We both thought about that weekend for many years. Twenty years after that weekend, cancer took her. I have a little box of her ashes to leave there if I ever find it. Never not do something because of tomorrow. Life will intervene forever. Plan big but don't structure or script it too much. A little malice a forethought can make the spontaneity better. You brought something to add to the spice of life. The Blazer got totalled before we left New Mexico. It was a diesel and a tune up was over my skill set. Mechanic got nailed by a stolen dump truck. He survived but was badly injured. Dealer replace it with a van. Got a new Bronco in Denver. She loved that truck. The pick up stayed in New Mexico. Only thing I have from then is memories. I miss her. |
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