Erotic Larping

Mia stepped out of her car, and popped the trunk. She pulled out her duffel bag and backpack and then closed and locked it, then looked around her. Distantly she saw a few other groups forming, and hoisting her bag she made her way towards the nearest.

She knew that these were her people because a woman was dressed in a full medieval skirt with a wide brimmed hat plumed with feathers. A man standing next to her, had a foam sword stuck through his belt. Next to them a man and woman fought, with their own foam weapons, an axe and morning star, laughing as the woman's chain got entangled in the hooked blade of the axe.

"I presume I'm in the right place?" she said by way of greeting, sweeping forward in her own cloak and high boots.

They acknowledged her, the woman giving her a nod, the man just looking, and then turned back to their own conversations. Of course - the kind of crowd this thing attracted were usually geeks, or nature people - not always high in people skills.

Of course this event was a little different . . . over to the side she watched as a troop of motorcycles rolled in. The people who got off were dressed in leather, with only the barest touch of the medieval, more like the sexy versions you got around halloween. These people came and broke into a group together, forcing the circle to widen and accept them. She saw introductions being made.

A woman wearing a homespun dress, and a gold ribbon across her chest approached and introduced herself. "Hello! Welcome! I'm Marie. Have you been to the Protean gatherings before?"

"Yeah, I've been to a couple."

"Oh good, we're just waiting for a few more people, and then we'll bus everybody we've got in."

It wasn't long before the bus loaded up. Mia ended up sitting next to one of the leather clad men. He introduced himself as Mark.

"Have you been before?" She asked.

"Has this happened before?" He asked. "I've never been to the land before, no."

"Protean gatherings have been happening for seven or eight years now - one in each season. We're all thinking of this as just as between gathering, gathering."

"Oh, gotcha. So what normally happens at one of these things?"

"They split us into two groups: The Village - which lives in the village - you'll see, they've done an entire reproduction of a medieval village - and then the other half are the Wildfolk. They go set up in the woods."

"Oh cool," Mark encouraged.

"They do workshops in both camps - The village learns how to shear wool, or make butter, or build a medieval hut. The wildfolk learn to hunt, and forage and track and all the stuff they need to survive in the woods."

"But what's up with the swords?"

"Well, the wildfolk aren't allowed to bring food. It's to encourage them to learn to hunt and all, but the other thing they do is raid the village. We have pitched battles - totally unscripted - between the Village and Wildfolk. If you die you reincarnate on the other side - so it's a pretty big deal. We've had gatherings where by the end everyone is Wild or the village has killed all the Wildfolk and we live the last couple days in peace."

"That's awesome," Mark said - so presumably it's the same thing this time, just . . ."

"Yeah," Mia said, "With sex."

*****

"So we have a couple special rules for this gathering,"

They were all sitting in the great hall together, packing the building so that some people in the back had to stand. Marie the coordinator stood in the center.

"Everyone is going to wear a ribbon" - she gestured to her own gold ribbon. "Gold means a moderator. We are completely off limits while wearing a gold ribbon. Always obey our directions."

"Even if it's dirty?" Someone shouted,

"Especially if it's dirty," she deadpanned, and then laughed shaking her head, no - "moderators are outside of the action. Our job is to make sure nobody gets hurt and things flow smoothly. We will take off our ribbon and put on another one if we want to play."

She continued. "Red ribbon: You're potentially up for anything. Orange ribbon: You're good with anything as long as it's opposite sex. Yellow Ribbon: You're good with anything as long as it's same sex. Green ribbon: Keep it consensual but interested in everybody. Blue ribbon keep it consensual but opposite sex only. Violet ribbon consensual only but same sex only."

She paused. "Everyone got that?" several people laughed. "If you mix these up the person wearing them can correct you. The one I want to stick in your mind is silver: playing, but off limits for sexual play."

"You can change ribbons at any time. Maybe you were wearing red, and you got gangbanged and now every hole in your body hurts." She paused to wink "And you just want to take it easy for a bit - come get a silver ribbon."

"Stop, no, don't - are all words we use in our roleplay. We have only a single safe word which everyone uses, which is 'Pause game.' The universal symbol for this is," here she raised her hands to form a T, "The times gesture. I hope you're all familiar."

"What I hope, is that we can make space here for a lot of different roleplay, depending on what you're into. This is roleplay that includes the erotic, as opposed to specifically erotic roleplay. I hope that we can have romance, affairs, incest, honeymoons, abuse, rape, and every combination thereof, all coexisting in a roleplay that maintains a good story and a truly midieval context."

"Oh, and since undergarments will be revealed, I strongly encourage you to dress entirely in costume, not just cover up with it."

*****

Mia adjusted her orange ribbon, which she had tied up in her hair for the night. Here at the Protean gathering everyone did everything in character, including sleeping. She had joined with three other women, as sisters who lived together in this fairly large hut - allowing her her own room. They had gotten along well throughout the night, making a hearty stew together and eating it around the fire. It had started to lightly drizzle outside and Mia didn't envy the Wildfolk who wouldn't have had time to set up a proper camp yet.

As with most of the huts, this one came with a closet full of clothes, and Mia selected a nightgown from among them and slipped into bed.

She awoke with a start as a cold wet hand clamped over her mouth.

"If you scream, I will kill you." A masculine voice said. She recognized it, it was Mark. Looking to the side she saw a foam knife glowing slightly, the open window fluttered in the breeze.

She didn't scream, merely gasped in surprise. She instinctively froze, and as her mind awoke she used that. She slowly nodded once, not saying anything. She felt the rustle in the dark as the blankets shifted and she felt his hand leave her mouth and slide down her nightgown. He caught the bottom just above her knee and pulled it up, thumb tracing the inside of her thigh. When he reached her mound, he paused, making one slow circle of her v before slipping between her outer lips. She was surprised to feel how wet she was, he made a grunt as if in satisfaction. His finger stroked a few times, before easily sliding inside her.

Mia let out a very soft moan. This man, who she'd only just met, but definitely thought was hot, had his finger inside her. Had specifically sought her out from among everyone. Was going to do a lot more than just put his finger inside her. He couldn't see her smile in the dark.

"Please sir," she whimpered in the dark. "What are you doing? Please stop. Don't touch there."

"Has anyone ever touched you here?" Mark asked, his voice husky and rough, his finger making slow circles inside her.

"No! Of course not! I am pure and virginal. Please sir, do not take this away from me!"

"I will take so much pleasure in taking your virtue village girl. I will boast around every campfire and the wildling women will laugh and want me for my conquest."

"Oh no sir, please stop. I'm feeling funny down there."

Mark did not stop, but rather kept playing her g-spot with an expertly hooked finger. He followed her "No"s and "Stop"s with continued pressure until, coming close she said stop and he stopped. She let out a low moan of regret.

"Very well," he said. "Since you want me to stop so much . . . " she felt him shift. "I'll do this instead." He lifted her thighs and knelt within them. Her nightgown puddled around her waist. She felt him adjust and push into her.

"Nooooooo," she moaned as he began thrusting into her, twisting her hips as if trying to get away. Everyone in camp had been tested clean, and women were held responsible for their own birth control, so he went in bare. The reality of the fact she had decided not to use birth control made the act that much hotter. She was technically fertile, though it wasn't likely this time of month. She imagined the poor village girl getting pregnant from her first wildling rape - and that's when the damn broke and pleasure crashed over her, to intense for a moment.

Mark just kept going, like the good rapist he was and it wasn't long before she felt his strokes getting tighter.

"Please sir, take your pleasure if you must, but I am unwed. Only do not make me with child." She whimpered.

She felt his body tighten as he spasmed inside of her, roughly gripping her sides as he grunted the last drops into her.

"Too late," he growled, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "You bring yourself and your wildling child to the camps and we'll take care of the babe. I'll even rape you every night if you wish."

"Oh you awful man!"

****

Mia awoke again in the morning to sunlight coming through her still open window. She could smell bacon frying in the kitchen. She rose and dressed in skirts and bodice. Last night seemed almost dreamlike but she knew it had happened, her nightgown had been ripped, and her body felt well fucked this morning.

After breakfast she made her way over to Plots - the building in the center of the village where they handled the village plotline.

"You've been raped too?" Marie said with an incredulous smile. "I don't think a wildling man stayed in the camps last night - and not many women either."

Mia could only shrug. Marie continued, "Nonetheless I like the pregnancy angle. We'll get you some padding, bring in some scandal, and let the Wildlings know. We can have the entire village pretend they didn't just get raped too and point accusatory fingers at your virtue.

"Perfect," Mia said smiling. She loved when they got excited about her suggestions.

*****

Patrick was a bit of a nerd in real life, awkward and fond of videogames more than sunlight, skinny but not bad looking. They had played a few parts together at previous festivals and she liked him for his dedication to the roles he took on. When he showed up as a village boy, promising that he didn't care about her virtue and would marry her anyway she stayed in character and gratefully accepted. The weird part was when he said that as a prospective fiance he couldn't be less intimately acquainted than her rapist. She played demure, but he insisted - she could see the want behind his eyes. So - she pleaded with him to be gentle.

He wasn't a bad kisser, but obviously didn't have that much experience beyond that. They sat on a small hill in the village commons, and she let him free her breasts and fondle them, then raise her skirts and admire. From there he went right to business, positioning himself between her legs, unbuckling himself, spitting on his cock and sticking it in. It wasn't bad, just quick, and Mia found herself wondering, as she lay beneath him moaning enough to keep him happy, what her inexperienced character would think.

She found herself wondering the same thing again and again. Patrick took their roles as an opening to have sex with her as much as he possibly could, bending her over in back rooms and in garden beds. She had to admit it was entirely in character - the young village boy taking the village slut to wife would expect her to give herself accordingly.

On the third day Patrick had her over at his house and invited some friends over. His real friends, though they had all made sure to make roleplay connections. Brandon was a large man, who was playing Conner, one of the lead city guardsmen. Sam was the best looking of the group, blond and handsome and was one of the village Rangers. Matthew was somewhere in his late fifties and was showing a fair bit of white hair, and was playing a grizzled war veteran who couldn't be less than 80. Arch was in the same mold as Patrick, skinny but with a longer beard than he had a right to, still patchy in places.

After dinner Patrick stretched, "You know what I like after a good meal like that? A good fuck. Come here woman."

"Oh! But your friends!"

"A woman like yourself won't mind a little company, and I'm sure they won't mind the view."

"Oh please, don't do this. In the bedroom if you must."

"Right here on the table I say." He grabbed her, and though she was probably stronger than him she allowed herself to be flopped face down on the table. She had briefly considered calling time, but found herself curious. She came here for new experiences. She had known something like this might happen. Though only one of these men was arousing to her, the fantasy they played out was, and she let herself sink into it, imagining herself large with child (and feeling the padding under her bodice which mimicked the sensation) and helpless before these men.

"You see?" he was telling his friends. "She's obedient, and willing to spread her legs whenever I say." He pulled up her skirt then, and it wasn't just in roleplay that she instinctively covered herself. He took her hand and pried it away from between her legs.

"Come slut - take my cock." She gripped the table and braced herself as he spit and entered, grabbing her hips and immediately began pounding.

"She has a good cunt, so soft and warm - would any of you like to try it?"

She'd known this was coming, but played her part. "Oh no! You'll not - ah - whore me out so will you? I'll be an - uh - obedient wife but not a - ohh - prostitute!"

"An obedient wife does as her husband - ughhh - demands!"

Patrick came then, pulling out to spew on her butt, face, or breasts as he always did, no doubt taking a line from all the porn he must watch.

She absently struggled, giving some token distress as Brandon took mount. He held her back down, and she realized in a moment that if he wanted to rape her he really could. She had her safe word, but what did it mean?

"Pause game," she said.

Brandon stiffened but pulled out. Everyone was looking at her.

"I just want to be sure I can stop if I need to." she said

"Of course!" Brandon said, and everyone else echoed.

"Okay, I'm game to keep going - but would you guys do me a favor and cum on me not in me?"

They chorused agreements.

"Game in," she said "Oh you foul men taking advantage of me so! You would ravage so helpless a creature?"

"Doesn't your fiance say it's okay? Aren't you to obey him?" Brandon said in Conner's slow methodical tones. "And besides" he said slipping into her again "- what is there to take?"

She ended up having a good time of it. She couldn't help but giggle when Matthew referred to his "Ancient creaky cock," as he got it out - wondering in his quaivering old man voice if it even still worked.

Arch turned out to be a better lover than she would have expected, and going last she got an orgasm out of his rhythm and helpful hands.

Nonetheless as a character, Mia decided - this was all too much. The shame of the village. She would seek out the babe's father. The next evening, and two fuckings from Patrick later she set out with a pack full of food towards the wildling camp. Halfway there she encountered a piece of paper tacked to a tree. "Shit!" she swore out loud before snagging it and heading back for the village.

At Plots Mariah read the piece of paper aloud. "You have encountered a rabid Direwolf." Did you have any weapons at this time?"

"No, the only thing I had was my pack of food. I'd try and fling it at the wolf and run."

"Any meat in the bag?"

"Bread and cheese"

"Okay - I'm not giving you a high rate of survival. You're pregnant and running from a wolf. How would this look as an ending point for the character?"

"Not bad actually."

"Okay. If you win three out of three games of rock paper scissors you survive."

"Okay."

She lost all three.

*****

Mia swaggered into the Wildling camp. She entered not as a refuge but as a native - bare breasted and bangled in bones and paint. She rolled a whoop as she entered and got an answering whoop from the camp.

"I am Tiagha! Of the Dire Wolf clan!' she yelled.

"We see you Tiagha!" they returned.

Squatting around a fire eating the remains of the day's gathering - she asked about Mark.

"He died today in a raid." One man said. Took me and four other village folk with him. Now I get to be on the opposite side of a blade from him again . . . Just my luck." She laughed, and he grinned.

The camp had evolved into an easy ritual at night of inviting people into your tent to sleep together each night. Mia had a few men she had her eyes on, but not tonight. She turned down several offers and went instead to the weapons tent, selecting one of the glow in the dark foam knives for night fighting, and tucking it into a sheath at her belt

She snuck through the woods, and took her time as she approached the village. At the gate she showed herself to the guard and struck a deal, bending her over against the wall and allowing him entry to give her the same. She felt incredibly daring - she´d fantasized about doing this in real life but never dared - here she could offer without risk, no real one anyway. She was surprised by how aroused she was by the process and threw herself into it, kissing him with all her passion.

Then slipping into the village she sought through empty streets, looking at name plates until she found it. Quietly she slipped the unlocked window open and climbed inside, padding to the bed.

Mark awoke with a hand over his mouth. "If you make a sound I will kill you," she whispered, foam dagger poised over his chest. Mark nodded once, and meeting his eyes she slowly reached down and began stroking him to hardness.