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Simone texted first thing this morning begging me to work my day off. She finally moved things on with the masseur working the next tent and last night saw them fucking indulgently for the first time - and second and third. Simone’s message didn’t hold back.I was in a dry spell by choice, focusing on using these weeks at The Wild Woman Festival to get stronger and fitter with daily swimming in the lake, yoga, and making the most of some incredible workshops when I wasn’t working. But I’d be lying if I said Simone’s text hadn’t brought images to mind of her curves and smooth skin - the softest I’ve felt and an intensely pleasant discovery when we submitted to lust and alcohol and explored each other’s bodies some years back. Her skin was so incredibly sensitive to touch, and picturing her hips grinding on this hot guy’s dick, I felt my own skin flushing and the pressure of my knickers on my clitoris. Distracted, I walked through festival goers slowly waking to the day, looking for the. Suddenly it all stopped and I felt normal. There was no sense that anything had happened, no pain, no marks, nothing. “What the hell was that!” I said to the empty room, not expecting an answer. I got one anyway. That was the start of The Bond. If you are ready we will now complete The Bond. said a feminine voice from somewhere. “Who the hell said that!” I said to the empty room as I looked around wildly. I did. Came the voice. I realized then that the voice wasn’t really spoken, it was in my head. “And who the hell are you, where are you?!” I am, or more accurately was, the Royal Sorceress Marcellene, and right now I am wrapped around you finger. The voice returned in a pleasant tone. Standing in the middle of the bathroom naked, dripping water all over the floor, I looked at the ring in horror and wonder. “If you’re a sorceress then why do you look like a ring, and why did you hurt me, and how are you talking to me, and, and, and… WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!!” This last part came.
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