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Marc2b -> RE: Collarme Island (4/27/2007 10:32:21 PM)
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LadyEllen said:
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Clearly, someone of great intellect, wide education and enormous leadership skill would be needed to take control...
I’ve already headed to the hills, remember? [;)]
Some of this is hilarious, thanks for participating. On a serious note, I think that common cause – survival – would keep us together in the first hours and days but eventually personality conflicts would exacerbate political and social divisions and the break up would begin. Sorry if that sounds pessimistic.
TheHeretic said:
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It seems pretty obvious to me that the first division would be between the people who do this shit (or any shit for that matter) for real, and those who type about it. Guess which ones get to become slaves and eunuchs?
I can’t decide if this is a jest or a seriously snide dig. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt but just in case I’d like to say that in my profile, and several posts on these board, I have never denied having never participated in an actual BDSM. The day that I attend my first munch, or whatever, may or may not come (I’ve still a lot of personal shit in my life I need to deal with first) but until then I am enjoying the journey. I think the only real distinction between a "true" and a "fake" is not so much experience as honesty. Truthfully, the main reason I am on the Collorme boards is, not so much my interest in BDSM as it is this:
This is one of the few message boards I have seen that is not monolithic in it’s political views (most boards, I’ve noticed are 90% left or right with a few masochistic members of the other side who show up for they’re daily verbal bashing) plus there are actually few rhetoric spouting people here and plenty of intelligent, thoughtful people. In other words. I came for the BDSM (no pun intended) but I stay for the intellectual stimulation.
Wow. I went off topic on my own thread.
Well, if I’m just going to type about it, I might as well go for it (and just in case somebody does get offended, it is all in tongue-in cheek good humor folks):
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"Kneel," said Marc to the naked slave girl. "Yes, Master," she replied as she quickly obeyed, kneeling with her head bowed, her hands crossed behind her back, and her knees spread wide. Her back still bore the marks from her recent whipping, punishment for not having obeyed quickly enough.
Marc took off his back pack and rummaged through it till he found the binoculars. He hung them around his neck and started climbing the tree. He had climbed many a tree during his childhood but those had been maple, oak, and willows. It had taken some trial and error learning to climb palm trees. This palm tree was on one of the highest hills on the island and from it he had a view of nearly seventy percent of the tropical isle. To his right he could see the huts in the distance that comprised New Port Kar. He could also faintly hear what he usually heard from New Port Kar – drunken revelry. To his left, further in the distance, he could just make out Sapho, what the femdoms called their experiment in matriarchy. Both groups seemed content to leave others alone so long as they were left alone. That suited Marc just fine.
It was what was below him that interested him. The main encampment down by the beach. In an exercise of dark humor it had been officially named "This Sucks," the day after the crash. A week later it had been renamed, this time in a lighter vein, "Moderatorville." But everybody called it the Main Encampment. Things were not going well in the Main Encampment. Heretic had launched a coup against Lady Ellen. Things apparently had not gone as well as Heretic planned. The supporters of Lady Ellen, though caught by surprise, had rallied. Fighting raged in the center – the matter was still undecided. Some people had scurried off to the outskirts of the Main Encampment, trying to stay out of it until one side or the other clearly gained the upper hand. Fools, thought Marc. Didn’t they know that the winners, after dealing with the losers, almost always then turned upon the fence sitters?
A few people were hastily gathering up supplies and heading into the jungle. A smarter move, thought Marc. It looked like there were going to be several more "Lone Wolfs" like himself. The term wasn’t entirely accurate. Each of the so called Lone Wolfs had their own encampment – privacy seemed to be what each valued most – but once every week or so they got together to share a fire, some food, information, and simple human fellowship.
Whatever the outcome the Main Encampment was once again going to loose population. There might even be another large breakaway or two after things settle down again. Marc saw that a few of the new Lone Wolfs were headed in his general direction. They would arrive at his position in about ten minutes. It was time to leave.
Marc took a long look around to make sure that spear wielding lunatic Rumtiger wasn’t around, then scooted back down the tree, put the binoculars away, and turned his attention toward his slave girl as he re-shouldered his back pack. "Heel," he said as he turned around and strode into the jungle. "Yes, Master," she replied as she hurried behind him.
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Okay, back in reality now.
Rumtiger said:
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Oh and yeah, and if you do take Aileen I guess it would become a lord of the flies thing wouldent it? lol.
Yeah... It probably would. In reality, however, I would never kidnap anybody but what good is a fantasy if you can’t indulge your dark side? And being my fantasy, I get to make the rules. In my fantasies, my slave girls are always happy to be my slave girls. I would be a good Master, strict but not overly cruel. Also, being my fantasy, anyone who hunts me fails victim to my cleverly concealed traps – or my sword arm (I swiped the sword from one of those Medieval Fair guys).
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