Chapter 15

by Jill Smith

One of the interesting things about the way of life that I had chosen was the distance between the highs and the lows. I'll call the lows the times when I was suffering the most pain or the most humiliation and the highs were the times when I was experiencing the intense feeling provided by the rush of a phenomenal orgasm. Don't think that the use of the words high and low mean good and bad. There's something in my addled brain that derives deep satisfaction from pain and humiliation. So some of the lows were some of the best. Make sense? Didn't think so.

So where was I? Oh, yeah. The distance. On Mother's Day I experienced one of my all time lows. My tongue was attached to my daughter's big toe for twenty-four hours. My body was covered with welts where she constantly snapped her whip into my naked skin. My knees were sore and bloody from crawling on dirt, gravel and stones. My entire head had been buried in mud over a foot deep and my body was covered in the stuff. The sun had baked the mud and I smelled of it. Reeked of it. I had achieved a greater level of pain and humiliation than I thought possible. And, God help me, I found it good. And, somehow, it had ratcheted my arousal to an unbelievable height. As I lay at Megan's feet after dinner with her toe in my mouth all I could think of was sex. And then we were released. And then a bath. And then sex. And more sex. Sex with Todd. Sex with Megan. Sex with Shelly. Maybe not an all-time high but close to it. The distance between the low and the high was definitely the greatest I had ever traveled. And it was that distance that made the whole experience one of the most gratifying ever.

I've way over analyzed the whole event. I've learned that it's much more satisfying to accept life, its lows and highs and everything in between and enjoy the moment and to not over-analyze. Go with the flow. So that's the last you'll hear of my philosophy about SPH and orgasms.

Following our sexual marathon the four of us slept like the dead. The following morning I opened my eyes to daylight and felt Megan sucking on my big toe.

"What are you doing, Meg?" I asked.

"Just wondering what it was like," she replied.

Her lips and tongue worked their way up my leg, lingered between my thighs, and planted themselves hard against the magic spot. It felt so good. Then the little vixen announced that she had to go pee and crawled out of the tent.

"You'll pay for that." I called after her.

"We're all going to pay," said Shelly. "Today's race day. Or did you forget?"

"Oh yeah. Day at the races. Think we're the ponies, Shelly?"

"Bet on it," she answered, and crawled out after Megan.

Todd and I followed. We were still in SPH so we remained on our hands and knees as we crawled to the latrines to do our business and then to the wash shack to wash and brush. The four of us were the last up. Everybody else was sitting around the campsite drinking coffee and bitching about how late it was.

"We're hungry," whined Eric. "It's about time you guy's got up. You don't expect us to get our own breakfast, do you?"

The four of us apologized and got to work crawling around and preparing bacon and eggs on the camp stove. We served our four masters on our knees. Eric wasn't in SPH but he was naked. The other three were wearing loose shorts only. Beth was topless. Casual dress at the campsite.

After feeding our masters we asked for permission to eat. David replied.

"First get your dildoes out of the car and put them in. Your bowls and some dry dog food is in the back of the SUV. For breakfast you can have as much dog food as you want but be sure to mix in at least one raw egg. Either orange juice or water is okay in your drinking bowls."

"You have a dildo in the SUV, too, Jill. I brought one for you," added Steve. "There are bowls in there for you, too."

"Thank you, Master Steve," she said and we crawled off to get our dildoes and feeding bowls.

Retrieving those we returned to the campsite and inserted the dildoes in each other. Then we prepared our own breakfast and ate with our bowls on the ground and our fannies sticking in the air while our masters made lewd comments about our bottoms. Each one was decorated with a colored ball that was attached to the end of our dildoes. I'm sure we looked pretty comical.

After breakfast we cleaned up and then it was Beth's turn to order us.

"Remember those sulkies we saw in the barn?"

Remember them! How could we forget them? "Yes, Mistress Beth."

"Could you guys bring them here please?" she ordered.

We crawled to the barn and on our knees and pulled the sulkies out. Jill and I were pretty sure that we were going to be the ponies so we figured that we might as well get used to it and got between the poles. It was difficult pulling the sulkies on our hands and knees. Beth must have noticed this and she called out to us with a suggestion.

"Put the cross bar in your teeth."

That worked. Not very comfortable, but it worked.

When we returned to the campsite we parked the sulkies and relaxed on the ground. The rest sat in camp chairs.

"So here's the deal," said David. "We're going to have a pony race after lunch. As you've already guessed, Shelly and Jill are going to be the ponies. Megan will drive Jill and Todd will drive Shelly. We've got some reins and things for the ponies to wear but we'll work that out when the race is ready to start. The winners get off SPH but for the life of us we can't think of a good punishment for the losers. Any suggestions?"

"How 'bout whipping, caning and paddling," suggested Eric. "That always seems to makes a good impression."

"Yea, but we've had so much of that," said Steve. "It's losing its impact."

"Well, like the name implies. It's either pain or humiliation. Or both." This from Beth. "Although, I admit, it's going to be tough to find something more humiliating than what mom and Jill suffered yesterday. I can't believe there isn't something, though. As far as pain goes, I'm afraid we're reaching some limits. What do you think, mom?"

"You're right about limits for pain but just because we can't suffer any more than we have doesn't mean that we should stop suffering altogether. Jill and the kids have suffered more than I have. At least they have except from Master Steve." Shelly looked at Steve and smiled as she said this and Steve smiled back. "But humiliation… There's all kinds of humiliation."

Shelly stopped speaking for a moment and was clearly thinking about adding something. Then she made her decision. Quietly, as if she didn't really want us to hear her words, she said, "For example, I would find it extremely humiliating to be spat upon. By my friends and family. And to know that all I can do is to tolerate it and wait for it to happen again."

Shelly looked up at Steve and Beth and kind of half-smiled and we all knew that at least part of our punishment was going to involve expectoration.

Something was said that got Todd's brain fired up because he got a gleeful smile and said, "I know! Remember the trip up here and me and Megan in the trunk? And my piss got all over us? Let's piss on 'em!"

Beth smiled at that and said, "You know, Eric, we're setting a precedent, here, that could come back and haunt you."

Eric's smile disappeared as he thought about that and then his face brightened again and he said, "Oh well. I say piss on 'em!"

David laughed and said, "Come back in spades, Eric."

Eric shrugged. "If it's to be SPH, SPH it shall be."

I noticed that his penis was becoming engorged. I wondered if it was caused by visions of being the pissee or the pisser. Both, probably, knowing Eric.

"Okay, then," said David. After lunch we'll have a pony race and the winners get off SPH and the losers will get a healthy dose of saliva and urine.

The four of us, Shelly, Megan, Todd and I, naked and impaled, looked at each other and wondered which of us was going to get the offending shower. What if it was Megan and me? Would I consider myself the winner or the loser? Such was life in SPH.

After the punishment was decided what was left of the morning proceeded slowly. The four of us in SPH were ordered to do some chores which included getting a tote bag that was full of what David called our tackle. Jill and I couldn't see what was in the bag and apparently we weren't going to until it was time for the race.

Beth read a book and David, Steve and Todd talked about sports and god knows what else. We race participants talked about what the race might be like and about some of the things we did the previous night. We did not talk about saliva or urine.

Lunch was like breakfast. We did the work, served our masters and ate from our bowls. After cleaning up David got the tote bag and said, "Let's get started."

First order of business was our dildoes. From the tote bag came two new ones with tails attached. The tails were a good three feet long and looked like what you might see on the back end of a small horse or pony. They were fastened to the dildo in such a way so that when the dildo was inserted in our holes the tail arched up out of our cracks. Megan and Todd replaced our old dildoes with the new ones as we stood and bent double while reaching behind us to spread our cheeks.

Next order of business was our hair. For the entire camping trip we wore our hair in ponytails to keep it out of our faces when we crawled, when our tongues were attached to toes, when we buried our faces in mud and when we ate. You'd think a ponytail would be perfect for us ponies but no. Braids were required. Our hair was pulled tightly back and braided. Shelly had a little more hair than I did so her braid was a little bit longer. The braids were decorated with ribbons. To complete our equine decorations our jewelry was replaced with new pieces that had bells attached. Bells hung from our nipples and labia. Every movement was accompanied with a musical jingle.

Shelly and I were then ordered to stand between the sulky poles holding the cross bar at waist level. A leather belt that was about an inch and a half wide was fastened around our waists. Rings attached to the belt were hooked around the poles so that the belt now supported the sulky poles. A bit was inserted in our mouths. It was a steel rod that slid through a ring that was screwed to the top of our tongue studs. Each end of the rod was attached to two leather straps and another ring. One set of straps was buckled in the back of our necks below our ears and the other set was connected in the back of our head above our ears. The buckles were fastened and pulled the rod tightly against the corners of our mouths forcing us into a perpetual grimace. Traces were attached to the bit rings and they trailed back to the drivers seat. We were almost ready.

Megan and Todd mounted their seats. They were well balanced and the axle and wheels took the weight. The cross bar that I was holding and the rings on my waist had no downward force. Our children were each given the same whips that they had used the previous day. My mass of welts that had just begun to fade was to be overlaid with a new set.

Megan playfully stroked my thigh with the thongs and said, "Giddyap, Trigger."

The spectators laughed.

David said, "All that's left are the blindfolds. This race is to be a test of driver skill as well as pony strength and stamina. Eric and Beth will blindfold the ponies and then the two teams can practice for a while. No verbal commands are allowed. Encouragement is okay but no instructions. Okay?"

I looked over at Shelly. She threw her head like a pony might do and blew air through her bit. It was perfect. Everyone laughed and cheered. Beth stepped behind me and tied a blindfold over my eyes. It was very effective. There were pads for the eye sockets and she tied it tightly behind my head. My vision was entirely obscured and there was no chance of the blindfold slipping. Megan began my instructions.

"Okay, Trigger. When I shake the reins that means go forward."

She gave them a shake that I felt through the bit in my mouth. I began to walk forward taking the weight of the sulky with bar against my tummy just above the leather belt. I grabbed the bar with both hands. As we began moving my bells jingled adding a merry sound to our progress.

"When I strike you with the whip that means faster."

The thongs snaked over my right shoulder and bit into my breast adding an extra jingle to the bell attached to that nipple. I began to trot. The weight of the sulky and Megan pulled the bar hard against my tummy. It was going to be a long hard race.

"When I pullback on the reins that means slow down."

She pulled the reins and the bit pulled back against the corners of my mouth stretching my lips over my teeth. It hurt. I slowed to a walk.

"If I pull even harder it means stop."

Megan jerked on the reins pulling my head back and thrusting my chin up toward the sky. I stopped. I began to have some empathy for all of those horses I rode in the past. Megan gave the reins a shake and I began to walk. To my right I could hear Shelly jingling and Todd giving her instructions also.

"Left rein and you turn left. Keep turning until I give you slack."

The bit pulled to the left and I made the turn and continued until I felt the slack against my mouth.

"Good," she said and pulled on the right rein.

I followed the command and we practiced in that manner for a time until I heard David call out, "Post time! Both teams over here for the start."

My tummy was nervous. I wanted to do well. Hell! I wanted to win! And it wasn't because of SPH or piss or spit but just because I wanted to win. I knew that David would plan a grueling race and that Megan's whip was going to be merciless but most of all I wanted to win. I was in good shape but so was Shelly. And she was younger by a couple years. I considered that Todd and Megan were about the same weight. Hopefully Todd had a couple pounds on Megan and that'd give me an edge.

Megan drove me to what I guessed was the starting line. I had lost all sense of direction. I guessed we were at the campsite but had no idea in which direction we were pointed.

David said, "The drivers can see where we marked the course. It's once around. When I say go, the race begins. Good luck to both teams. On your mark. Get set. GO!"

I started with a trot. I did not know how long the course was and was depending on Megan to pace me and hoped I'd have something for the finish. The whip bit into my back, but gently. I trotted a little faster. Megan must have approved of the pace because there was no further encouragement. The reins pulled left and I turned left. They pulled right and I turned right. My bells jingled and I could hear Shelly's jingling, sometimes to my left, sometimes a little behind and sometimes a little ahead. As I trotted I could feel my tail tickling the back of my knees. Even during the race it was a sensual feeling. God, I thought to myself. Even now I'm thinking about sex. I'm hopeless.

I was beginning to tire. I could jog at this pace for an hour but the cart plus Megan was beginning to tire me. The whip bit into my back and I began to run. The jingling beside me kept pace. The stones and pebbles and sticks beneath my bare feet hurt but didn't slow me down. Without warning the dirt turned to mud. I slipped and went to one knee. My hands released the crossbar and splayed out in front of me, splashing into the mud. I struggled to my feet and could hear Shelly pull ahead.

I heard Megan say, "Come on, Trigger. Let's go."

I tried to get a rhythm going but my feet kept slipping and I continued to fall to my knees. The mud grew deeper and held the sulky back. It was like my 120 pound daughter had turned into a 500-pound gorilla. The whip began biting into my skin on a regular basis, welting my back, my thighs and curling around my sides and shoulders to bite into my tummy and breasts. The mud rose to mid-calf. When I lifted my feet it felt like bowling balls were attached to them. At one point I found it easier to crawl, gripping purchase deep in the mud with my fingers as well as my toes. The whip cracked into my back harder and harder. The mud got into my bells and deadened the sound and I couldn't hear Shelly's bells either. But I heard Todd's whip and her grunts and groans and her gasping breath and I knew that she was close beside me.

The mud shallowed and I raised to my feet re-gripping the bar with my muddy hands. I sucked air in over the bit and through my nose trying to deliver oxygen to tired muscles. One last tug from the mud and we were free of it. The bit pulled hard to my left. I knew where we were. The dirt road passed the muddy swamp here and Megan had turned me back toward the campsite. If there were no more course changes it was a straight shot up the dirt road. The whip cracked into my skin mercilessly and I knew that Megan was telling me that this was it. Now or never. Shelly was on the inside of the turn and gained a couple yards. Godam Megan for running a bad race. My legs were like lead. It was all I could do to lift them. The whip curled around my hip and bit in to my pussy. I screamed through bit. The pain and the desire to win shot adrenaline through my veins and I lunged forward.

Megan leaned forward and with a low excited voice said. "Go, mother, go!"

Not the deprecating "Trigger." Not the familiar "mom." But "mother." The name she used when she was a child and wanted something and she called me "mother" to tell me she loved me and respected and "godam it, do what I want!"

"Go. Mother!"

The whip was relentless. My breasts and thighs and sides and tummy and even my pussy were burning with its sharp relentless sting.

I could hear everybody shouting. I could hear David yelling, "Go, Jill! Go, go, go!"

I could hear Eric. "Run, mom! Run!"

I could hear Steve encouraging his wife and Beth yelling for her mother. The race must have been close. My lungs were exploding. My heart was pounding in my chest and my head. With absolutely nothing left in me I dug down to the very pits of my reserves and ran for my life.

The whip ceased its exhortations and the bit was gently pulled back in my mouth. The race was over. I fell to my knees and doubled over the cross bar. My elbows fell to the ground along with my forehead. The sulky poles kept me from falling on to my side but that was all that kept me from collapsing. I sucked air into my lungs and prayed for my muscles to mend. Steve and Beth were still cheering. David and Eric were not. We had lost.

Megan got off the sulky and knelt by my side and lowered her face to mine.

"I'm so proud of you, mom. You did wonderful. I love you so much."

"We lost, Meg. It's spit and piss for us," I said.

"Oh, so what. What's a little spit and piss. You ran harder than I ever thought you could. Shelly's a Neanderthal. A real horse couldn't have beaten her. You ran twice as hard as she did and you're my mom and I love you and I'll be proud to share spit and piss with you."

I had to laugh she was so sincere and trying so hard to make me feel better about losing.

"I love you, too, Meg, and you drove an excellent race and you're right. That Shelly's a Neanderthal."

We both giggled and then Megan helped me to my feet. Eric came up and gave me a hug and managed to get mud all over himself. The two of them released me from the sulky, removed my tackle and helped walk me around some so that my muscles wouldn't cramp. Shelly and Todd came up and congratulated us on a race well run and Todd said that he was lucky to get the inside track or they never would have won. David told us to clean up and get some rest. Punishment would be after dinner.

"You're still in SPH," he added. "Get off your feet."

We lowered ourselves to our hands and knees and crawled to the wash shed to clean up. I crawled with my tail between my legs. Literally. Eric followed us on foot to help us wash. Tired as I was I was looking forward to his busy little hands. Todd and Shelly were already there and doing an excellent job of cleaning each other genitals. They were officially off SPH and enjoying themselves. Megan and I, on the other hand were still on SPH and no orgasms were permitted us without permission which we didn't have. I was too pooped to pop anyway. Shelly was too but we all watched as her soapy hand stroked Todd's hard prick faster and faster.

As Todd's orgasm approached Beth arrived and said, "In Megan's face, Todd."

Todd reached over and grabbed Megan by the hair and positioned her face an inch away from his prick. Beth, still only dressed in loose shorts, dropped to her knees with her face only six inches away from the action. Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts and her mouth parted in anticipation. Shelly stroked, Todd exploded and semen streamed onto Megan's face. She took it like a trooper and cleaned him with her tongue when he was finished. I looked at my naked son who was hard and was looking at Beth who was aroused who was watching Megan and her cum covered face, licking Todd clean. Five seconds later Beth had lost her shorts and she and Eric were rooting in the grass not more that five feet away. Camping seemed to have gotten us closer to nature.

Megan and I cleaned up while we watched Beth and Eric copulate in the grass. Shelly and Todd were already clean and simply watched. When Beth and Eric were satiated and Megan and I were clean we all returned to the campsite together. The four of them slowed their pace to accommodate our crawling.

Megan and I relaxed until dinnertime. Megan switched my dildo for the regular one and changed my bells for my regular jewelry. We cooked sloppy joes for everybody and served them, as usual, on our knees. We ate our sloppy joes, without hands, out of our bowls. It was very sloppy. After dinner we cleaned up. Everyone had at least a couple beers with dinner. Even Megan and I got to drink one out of our bowls. We had no doubt about why beer was served. We even made up a song about it, to everyone's delight.

"Beer, beer, don't you see,

The more you drink, the more you pee,

The more you pee, if you will,

The more you'll get, on Meg and Jill."

At last we were ready for our punishment. Spit and pee. Spit first.

Megan and I stood side by side, hands on our heads. To our right everybody else lined up in order of age. Todd, Beth, Eric, Shelly, Steve and David. I was first and Megan was next. As we stood there and they arranged themselves all we heard was throat clearing and hawking. When they were ready Todd stepped in front of me and placed his face directly in front of mine, about six inches away. He hawked once, got his spit where he wanted it and opened his lips in preparation to spit. Beth was watching intently.

When I squeezed my eyes shut she said, "Not allowed. You gotta keep your eyes open."

I opened them and Todd let loose. Got me square between the eyes. He moved on to Megan and Beth stepped in front of me.

She was giggling slightly and said, "Poor Jill."

Splat! Got it just left of center in the corner of the eye socket. Next Eric and then Shelly. She placed herself the requisite six inches away and smiled.

"We might have won the race, Jill," she said quietly, "but I wish it was Todd and me standing where you are."

"You'll get your chance," I responded.

Then she let me have it. Each and every one of them hawked up the worst they could manage. When David was standing in front to me my face was covered with white and yellow spit. I looked over at Megan just as Steve was letting loose. Spit was dripping off her chin on to her breasts. SPH was successfully reaching a new high (low?)

They managed a second round and Shelly and Steve had us open our mouths and spat into them. We were told not to swallow. When the second round was done Megan and I were ordered to face each other. First we spat the accumulated spit into each other's face then we were told to dredge up the biggest hawker we could manage and deliver that. Megan was kind of giggling as we did this and I have to admit that we must have appeared comical. Two grown naked ladies, hands on head, faces and boobs dripping with accumulated, disgusting spit, six inches apart… Well, you get the idea.

"I'm dried up," said Steve.

"Pee time!" said Eric.

"They're disgusting," said Beth, laughing.

And we were disgusting. My face was covered with spit. Spittle dripped off my face and on to my boobs. It dripped off my boobs and on to my toes. Megan's face was still six inches from mine. She closed the space and kissed me on the lips. A wet sloppy kiss. Speaking of wet… As our sloppy lips caressed each other I wondered how this kind of humiliation could arouse me. Wonder away. Go with the flow.

"Enough," said David. Time for our peeathon."

"Good," said Eric. "Let's hurry. I gotta go."

We were led to a small depression that had been dug for us in the dirt. It was only about four inches deep. The two of us squeezed into it lying flat, side by side, holding hands. My welted body was sensitive to the roughness of the dirt and pebbles.

The depression was just wide enough to contain our two bodies. It was small enough for our tormentors to straddle, a foot on each side.

Eric's knees were squeezed together and he said, "Gotta go. Gotta go."

He stood over waists, straddling our pee pit. He looked down at our faces and said, "You can close your eyes but only if you keep your mouths wide open."

We complied. His stream splashed against my breasts looking for its target, which it found almost immediately. My mouth filled with his pee and it began running over my cheeks and on to my neck and chin. The stream moved and I could hear it splashing into Megan's mouth. Then it returned to my face, hitting me between the eyes and spraying against my forehead. Eric's piss washed my face and ran into my hair and then returned to Megan's face where I'm sure it was similarly directed. The piss ran over our faces, through our hair, around and into our ears and into the dirt under our heads, turning it into slippery mud. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he finished. I could feel his last dribbles bouncing off my tummy as he shook his penis.

I heard Beth's voice directly above me as she said, "Open your eyes and close your mouths."

I closed my mouth forcing the pee over the lower part of my face and onto my neck and breasts. My opened eyes were looking straight up at Beth's cunt. Further up her smiling face was looking down into ours.

"Ready?" she asked.

We simultaneously replied, "Yes, Mistress Beth."

"Then open your mouths again. It's time for some fresh pee."

As I opened my mouth I closed my eyes hoping that it was permitted. Beth's stream was directed pretty much as Eric's. Our mouths were filled once more and she got a little more in our hair. Shelly was next and by the time she was through our heads were lying in a pool of piss and mud. She ignored our mouths, which were still filled with Beth's piss. Somehow she managed to get her stream pointed all the way down to our crotches. Her pee ran over our tummies and over our pussies. Most of our spit was washed off our faces and into the putrid pool that surrounded our heads.

David and Steve were last. They stood on each side of our pee pit and thoroughly soaked us from the tops of our heads to the tips of our toes. Our pee pit had turned into a sea of piss soaked mud.

We were told to close our mouths but to not spill any of the piss. I did the best I could. With our mouths full of Beth's piss we were told to stand and face each other. This we did, slipping and sliding in the mud.

"Now blow every drop of piss into Megan's face, Jill," ordered David.

And I did. And received like in turn. I was relieved that we didn't have to swallow the stuff. My relief was short lived. We were each given an eight-ounce juice cup and told to fill them. It wasn't necessary to say with what. We had to hold on to each other to keep from slipping and falling in the mud. I parted my legs and held the cup between my legs and filled it. Once the cup was full I still wasn't done and peed into the mud at my feet. I didn't see what difference it made and evidently Megan felt the same. Our combined pee splashed into the puddle that that kept getting deeper.

When we were done David said, "Exchange cups and drink up ladies."

"Is it safe?" I asked.

"It's safe. Eight ounces won't hurt you. Maybe."

Megan and I switched cups and, looking at each other, we sort of laughed. We touched our cups together in a toast and Megan said, "Bottoms up."

"Bottoms up," I responded and put the cup to my lips.

In about a half dozen swallows I drained the cup. It tasted like piss. If you don't know what piss tastes like there's only one way to find out.

We were told to lie back down. We were ordered to lie on our fronts, on our sides and on our other sides. I was told to sit on the edge of the pit and Megan was told to do a summersault. Then I had to do one. By the time we were finished with our exercises every inch of our naked bodies except our faces was cover in pissy mud. But still we were not allowed to leave our pee pit. There was about an hour of daylight left and I suspected (hoped, prayed!) that we'd not have to spend the night there. Everyone left for the campsite and we were left to our own devises. We sat cross-legged in the mire facing each other mud oozing around our butts, between our legs and into our cunts. We talked and idly made mud pies (piss pies?) Eventually I had a pile of three pies balanced on each knee. Then it occurred to my demented brain that the only part of our bodies that were not absolutely steeped in mud was our faces. I thought I'd mention this.

"You know, Meg, our faces don't have very much mud on them."

As I said this I picked the six pies up from my knees and squished them all together into one very large clump of pissy mud.

Megan looked at me and said, "Oh, no you don't."

Splat! Got her!

Megan, face covered with mud an inch thick, leapt on me, pushed me on my back and pinned me with a knee on each arm and her muddy butt on my muddy chest. While my arms were pinned she grabbed handful after handful of mud which was piled higher and higher on my face. Laughing and sputtering I escaped and fought back. In seconds the campsite returned to our pit and was cheering us on. We were shortly exhausted and collapsed in each other's muddy arms, side by side, giggling spasmodically, prone in the pit.

Our punishment was over. We spent an hour cleaning each other and finished with scented lotion. Although I didn't think we smelled all that bad nobody would come near us. Fuck 'em. Megan and I spent the night in each other's arms and pleasured our selves so frequently and so vigorously that Shelly and Todd finally told us to shut up and give them some rest. Fuck 'em. We pleasured on.

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My story seems to getting out of hand. But I guess that's what it's all about.

What more can these nutsos do to each other before the bottom is reached? As usual, I'd like to hear from you.

MOF

mofwriter@fastmail.fm