Camp Crucible Part 5: Kidnapped!

Robert Louis Stevenson never envisioned this...

This was the tenth year for Camp Crucible in its current incarnation and in that time, they have become expert at showing people a great time. They have also had time to develop some particularly interesting features to the weekend that may just set camp apart from other gatherings and retreats.

One such feature is the kidnapping. Yes folks, if you are going to camp, you can sign up for a kidnapping scene. You can either be a kidnapper or get kidnapped. If your choice is to get kidnapped, you have an opportunity to play out a fantasy that you design yourself. Sounds great, doesn’t it? I certainly thought so, so when it came time to register for camp, I signed up to be kidnapped.

You have to pause and think about this for just a moment. Kidnapping has to be a tricky business. You have to round up the people to carry it out and figure out where the victims are going to be. You also have to deal with some of the restrictions that would be victims place on their availability, not to mention the fantasies that some creative minds can concoct. “I’m a naughty schoolgirl and the teacher needs to punish me,” is easy. “I want to be carried off by one hundred randy pirates who will then have their way with me for the entire night,” not so much. Would you settle for Mr. Smee and a cabin boy? And then there’s the risk involved in making a mistake. A lot of effort must go into making sure that the right person gets kidnapped and that they are matched up with the right fantasy. It could get ugly if something went wrong. That must be what all those liability waivers I singed were about.

Mistress asked someone in the kidnapping business about that. What would they do if they ever made a mistake? She was told that in ten years, no mistake had ever been made. Ever.

Enter yours truly.

I guess I have to admit that my fantasy was a little elaborate. After all, I’ve had most of my adult life to work on it. When I signed up to be kidnapped, I put it down in as much detail as I could while leaving some latitude for the kidnappers to play with. I didn’t specify exact numbers or conditions, I didn’t say exactly what had to happen, and the only limitation I placed on my availability was that I didn’t want to be kidnapped while I was engaged in any pony activities. It’s rather difficult spiriting a pony away to parts unknown if he’s pulling a lady in a cart to the Victorian Tea, after all. Plus, I didn’t want to be too deep in pony head space lest I kick and hurt someone. I can’t count on reacting the way I need to as a human when I’m in head space and doing pony stuff.

So the fantasy was complicated and the restrictions were pretty tight. I didn’t realize just how much time I would spend doing pony activities, but it turned out to be almost all day and well into the night all weekend long. On top of that, I was in tack from dawn until late at night, making it more difficult to figure out when I was available and when I wasn’t. I basically ceased to think about getting kidnapped. That didn’t bother me as I was having far too good a time to worry about it.

Monday changed all of that.

If I learned anything at camp it was to be careful when I chose to nap. The day before, I had taken a short nap only to open my eyes and find Ms Reina Darkness hovering over me with an evil smile on her face and a friend at her side. It seems the friend was due for a grooming lesson and I was to be the demo pony. That led to a fantastic grooming session, but they were a little disappointed that I woke up before they wanted me to. They had plans for dealing with a sleeping pony and those had been thwarted.

Mistress likes to take a power nap in the afternoon. It usually lasts about one hour but can make a big difference in your ability to stay alert well into the night. I picked up the habit from her and was getting ready to nap on Monday afternoon. Just for a few minutes. Mistress asked me if I was going to be in the cabin for a while and without thinking too carefully, I said I would be. I rolled over and shut my eyes thinking that would be it for the time being.

Silly me.

Moments later the door opened. Instinctively I turned my head to see who was coming in. To my surprise, I saw two women I did not recognize. They were looking right at me with evil grins on their faces and maniacal looks in their eyes. One of them held a hank of rope. “Hello, Rusty!” they said, “We’re so glad to find you sleeping here because this is your kidnapping!”

If you are just coming in on this blog, let me state for the record that I was raised Episcopalian. Manners are everything and one doesn’t want to be a spoil sport. I’m also gay, so it was a little surprising to me that I should be kidnapped by women when my kidnapping form stated that I didn’t want women involved. I suffered a momentary conflict over what to do, and that was probably a mistake. These two were fast. They climbed on top of me, put a gag in my mouth before I could say anything and had me pinned fast. Lying there, unable to move and not able to say anything, I thought, “Well, one of them had a hank of rope. I bet they’re going to tie me up, stuff me into a body bag and haul me off to parts unknown where my fantasy will be enacted. That they are women probably has something to do with the availability of kidnappers, and besides, these two are good at what they’re doing! I’ll go with it…for now”

At the time, I was wearing minimal tack. I had removed my bridle, moccasins, gauntlets and tail, but the chest harness, belt, jock and collar were still in place. Or they were for a few more moments. I’m not quite sure at this point how they managed it, but I got rolled one way and then the other as what tack I still had on came off like lightening. The next thing I knew, I was stark naked, still pinned to the bed, unable to do anything but issue muffled screams through the gag and attempt – admittedly weakly – to escape. The two women kept up a steady stream of talk concerning how happy they were to be kidnapping me and what they intended to do to me as they writhed all over my body and began torturing my nipples.

By this point in time, my nipples were pretty tender. Mistress likes to give them the treatment with the stiff bristle brush when grooming me. It makes me dance in a manner that amuses her no end. In addition to that, Madame Adria had spent some time working them over the night before. So when these two got a hold of them with their teeth, I was already hot wired and jumpy. Each of them took a nipple and gave it all they were worth until I thought I’d pass out.

“Okay,” I thought, “This isn’t quite what I had in mind, but being pinned to the bed stark naked with a gag in your mouth while your nipples get tortured is pretty hot no matter who is doing it! I’ll go with it a little longer. I’m sure they will soon tie me up, stuff me into a body bag and drag me away to someplace where my fantasy scene awaits me!”

Still, you would have thought by this time that they might have noticed I was not getting…aroused…by any of this. Didn’t that seem odd to them? I mean, they certainly seemed competent to me and I’m sure any straight man would have enjoyed this a whole lot. But…

While all this was going on, Stormy came into the cabin. He got an eyeful of what was happening but didn’t stay for long. I didn’t give him any reason to suspect that things were anything but fine, so that didn’t surprise me. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder why he had come in, taken a look and then walked right out again. I would find out later.

Then I heard something that got me a little worried.

“Rusty! We’ve been so good to you giving you what you asked for…”

I beg your pardon…?

“Now it’s time for you to reward us!”

What…??

And with that, one of the women removed her panties and climbed onto the bed straddling my face while the other one positioned herself between my legs – with a pair of latex gloves. Black latex gloves.

“Oh my GOD!” I thought, “The rope didn’t mean anything and they aren’t going to toss me into a body bag! This IS the scene!”

How do I stop this without hurting anyone’s feelings?!?

I contemplated that problem as I stared up at a pair of lips that I really didn’t want to kiss. They were lovely, I’m sure, but I had no earthly idea what to do with them and they scared me a little. But survival instinct took over when they began to lower in the general direction of my face. I turned my head to the side and finally spoke up.

“Um…hold on a moment.”

To their absolute credit, the scene stopped dead in its tracks and my kidnappers asked me what was wrong. I told them.

“Apparently someone failed to tell you that I’m gay.”

“WHAT?”

I repeated my hypothesis. The woman between my legs took out a piece of paper and reviewed it. “But you are Rusty aren’t you? Isn’t this your fantasy?”

All at once I got it. Remember the problem with the name tags in the first camp story? This was going to be a lot of fun.

“Yes, I am Rusty, but there are TWO ponies in camp named Rusty. I believe you have the wrong one!”

Shock was quickly followed by profuse apologies and then hysterics. Mistress and Stormy came rushing in. Apparently they felt things had gone far enough and should be stopped. They relaxed when they found me and my kidnappers on the bed in fits of laughter.

It turned out that Mistress had been aware of the mistake all along and decided to play a double whammy of a practical joke. The kidnappers had presented her with the description of the pony named Rusty, and although Mistress knew about my restrictions, she saw nothing about them on the paper. Realizing that they had come to the wrong cabin, she allowed them to proceed just the same. When Stormy had come to the cabin for reasons of his own, Mistress stopped him going in except that one moment to check on me and make sure I wasn’t in distress. By the time they decided things had gone far enough, I had already safed out.

Did I tell you that Mistress is deliciously evil?

So there we all were; the kidnappers and I in laughing fits, Mistress and Stormy standing close by and enjoying the well-played joke and nobody any the worse for wear. I had a moment to reflect on the fantasy I had originally requested and I suddenly had a thought. I started laughing hysterically all over again.

“What are you laughing about now?” asked the kidnapper who was still sitting between my legs.

“It just occurred to me that as we speak, four men in uniform are trying to make off with the other Rusty. I wonder how that’s going for them!”

Needless to say, more laughter ensued until one of the kidnappers said, “Well, I guess we’d better get dressed and find the other Rusty!”

I recovered from the event pretty quickly. Life has endowed me with a sense of humor if nothing else, and I realized that I had just found my way into Camp Crucible history as the first ever kidnapping mistake. I’ll always have that to tell people. I got many apologies in person from several camp staffers including the person who was in charge of the kidnappings. I told all of them not to worry about it because I thought it was a hoot and would have a funny story to tell for a long time to come.

And if I’m not very much mistaken, Mistress has a payback due at some point. I doubt the camp staff will forgive the practical joke.