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Maybe the mystery was part of the fun? After all, the not knowing anything did give this upcoming scene a touch of realism.
I dropped my head into my hands and cursed myself stupid.
Had I really done this? Had I really agreed to participate in a primal CNC scene with a stranger? What if this was all a set up to steal a kidney or something? I did just give all my information over to a website I found on a mysterious flyer placed on my windshield.
I look around forlornly at my empty penthouse. What more did I have to lose? My life had become a boring existence, especially since I no longer worked.
To be honest, I didn’t quite care anymore if it was real or not. I needed something—anything to break up this awful monotony and loneliness. There was no better place or experience to change things up than at a “CAPTURED AND CLAIMED PRIMAL WEEKEND RETREAT” hosted by strangers who looked to have a consensual non-consent scene with me.
…Fuck. I only needed one kidney to live, right?
ChapterThree
The text message that came in last night directed me to arrive at the address provided by noon today. I was to bring NOTHING but the clothes on my back and my identification.
Apparently, those participating in the CNC portion of the weekend had their necessities provided for them by the hosts. Double fuck. There really was an element of realism to this. Afterall, when someone is captured in real life, rarely do they have necessities with them.
Could I do this?
I had to admit I was a nervous mess.
Since today was “D”-Day, either DICK or DIE Day—could be either, I had awoken early to pamper myself in case it was the former. I did not know what the weekend would entail but imagined it to be sweaty, dirty, perhaps sexy, but definitely brutal. I wanted to be prepared for all that.
I was already in the primal mood. I wanted to fight, scratch, claw, and bite. I wanted to run away and be caught in the arms of a handsome stranger who would make me cry all over his cock. I didn’t just want that. My eyes grew wet as the false scene played out in front of me. Ineededthat.
Pfft.
For all my imagination conjured, I doubted very seriously that would play out the way I hoped. For one, men rarely lived up to the fantasy. Two, this outdoor experience would likely be more akin to how things went down for poor gameshow contestants who signed up for extreme reality shows on deserted islands. As much as I liked to think I was prepared for the experience, there was a good chance I would hate every moment and vow to never do it again.
After a luxurious bath, I googled the area I was driving to and pulled up a satellite map. Remote wilderness was not an exaggeration. With that in mind, I decided to dress in a cross between sexy submissive and sexy hiker. While I had signed up for a BDSM experience, I was apparently staying the weekend at some forest kink club.
Remote. Wilderness. Forest. The logical part of my brain was waving red flags. Was I seriously going to drive out to some unknown location in the middle of nowhere and expect NOT to be trafficked or murdered? Was I being too stupid to live?
“Yes,” I muttered to myself as I pulled up opaque black thigh-highs then donned thick wool socks and hiking boots.
After I finished dressing, I looked at myself in the wardrobe mirror. I was 90’s cute. Retro makeup. An open checkered red burgundy flannel shirt tied in a knot at my waist showcased the tight, sleeveless bodysuit underneath. I chose to wear a bodysuit so I could avoid donning a constricting bra and an uncomfortable pair of underwear. A short, pleated schoolgirl skirt completed the look.
“Hair,” I reminded myself.
I needed to style my hair in a way that would not require a brush since only the Lord knew if such an item be available to me. I quickly French braided my locks and pinned the braid up to protect it from the elements.
Between the clothes and hair, goodness, I looked young.
I smiled at that thought. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt like this. Young. Strong. Sexy. Adventurous.
I pocketed my ID and headed out the door.
It was weird to be leaving for a weekend with literally nothing but my cell phone and driver’s license. They didn’t say to bring a phone, but I was bringing one anyway. Maybe I was dumb for signing up for this weekend, but notthatdumb. Plus, I needed my device for music and directions and such. Surly it was assumed I’d bring one the same as my house keys.
Once I made it to the car, I sent off three text messages. One was to my mother to tell her I loved her and that I was going away for the weekend, so to expect me to be out of touch and that I would call her when I returned. The second text message was to my lawyer, letting him also know I was going on a trip. I wrote that I would be out of town but added extra instruction: If he didn’t hear back from me by Tuesday evening, he was to please report me missing. I then sent off the address of where I would be.
A HOT LAWYER NAMED ANDREW: Where you going?
ME: Hiking.
A HOT LAWYER NAMED ANDREW: Alone?
ME: Yep.
