Camp Slut Rides Again

Camp Slut Rides Again

Click… Click… Click…

With a depressed sigh, I closed yet another window of my web browser, disappointed by the lack of real imagination that went into the story I’d read. I sat naked at my desk, the door to my dorm room open a crack, searching for something interesting to masturbate to in hopes of getting caught by my roommate or some other random passerby. After an hour, I had just about lost hope until a story title caught my attention.

“The Camp Slut, huh? Well, I guess I can give it a try,” I said out loud to the empty room. As I read through the tale, I could start to feel a new tingling. I wanted to be that girl. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair, imagining the feel of the collar and cuffs against my skin, the brush of the tree branches as I walked through the forest. I let my hand drift down between my legs as I imagined being so helpless that anyone or anything could do whatever they wanted to me.

My fingers danced around my clit as I slid two fingers from my other hand into my suddenly aching pussy. I lifted my knees, resting my feet on my desk as I worked my sex as mercilessly as I could, pounding now three fingers deep inside and slapping my clit with the palm. I let my head fall back, my mouth wide open as if I was wearing a ring gag like the girl in the story.

With almost no warning, the orgasm hit me, washing over me like an electric current, my muscles locked and shaking, a strangled cry coming from my throat. I don’t know how long I sat there, my eyes closed, body shaking, pussy convulsing around my fingers. I startled enough when someone cleared their throat that the chair almost flipped backwards.

I turned, chair, body, and all, to face the door, which now was wide open and pretty much filled with the other residents in the dorm. As I sat, naked, my hand still shoved up my cunt, my brain still not functioning, they started applauding, cheering and hooting. My roommate worked her way through the crowd, laughing and shooing them out the door.

“All right, you fucking perverts. Show’s over. Get out so a girl can get herself back in order.” She shook her head as she closed the door on the last of my onlookers, turning back to me with a smile. “Damn, Di. Why didn’t you just do that out in the quad? It would have drawn less attention.”

I pulled my hand out from between my legs with a shiver, grabbing the towel I had left nearby and started wiping myself up. My brain had started catching up with what had happened. The blush that started building was quickly tamped down by the excitement of what I’d just done. I had gotten caught frigging myself, just like I’d wanted. I smiled as I looked up at Julie. “If I didn’t want the attention, I’d have closed the door and put a hanger on it, silly.”

That brought on a new round of laughter from both of us.

“What did you find that finally tripped your trigger?” she asked, dropping into my lap and scooting us both over to the computer. She started reading the story on the screen, and I could tell it had caught her interest as well. She started squirming her ass, worming into my hips more. When she finished, she leaned back against me, turning her head to whisper in my ear, “We have to do this.”

We spent the next couple of hours scouring the internet for the equipment. The ring gags were easy, and we ordered several sizes to see how big we could go. The cuffs and collars were harder. The story described some pretty specific stuff, but we managed to find some that we could secure and we were sure would handle getting wet without being ruined. We ran down to the big box store to pick up the rest of the odds and ends we would need, while discussing the details of our adventure.

The first thing we had to decide was whether to do it together or to take turns. As much as we both wanted to see the other getting manhandled, it was decided that, for safety’s sake, we should go one at a time so that whoever stayed behind could at least point the authorities in the right direction to start with if something went wrong. We both knew going in that we were going to get “raped”, but there are worse things that could happen.

The second item to tackle was location. We couldn’t just pick some random stretch of road near a campground and send the victim out willy-nilly. Wild animals, dangerous plants, and families with kids could all put a quick end to the adventure. After a couple days of discreet questioning, Julie found out about a section of the national forest near campus that was frequented by some of the rowdier fraternities on weekends. We took a few trips to look around the area so we could find a good drop off point not too far from several of the regular gathering spots.

The last piece of our puzzle was when to do it. We wanted to make sure our “victim” was found, but I had concerns about just how many people would be there during the event. After a few times of Julie calling me a chicken shit, I gave in and decided I’d do it after the next home game. The idea of getting used as a cum rag for a bunch of worked up football players had me wanting to run to the bathroom to get myself off. I ended up spending the rest of the day smelling like sex because of my pussy being so wet that I soaked through my panties and shorts and had juices running down my thighs.

With all of the planning done, Julie and I started practicing. We both started wearing our cuffs and collars regularly. We got some strange looks at first. I would look around self-consciously wondering if anyone was going to say something about the tinkling of the locks against the cuffs and I walked around campus.