Sugar Cane Plantation – The Epilog
Sugar Cane Revisited – The Prologue
Obviously this adventure had to end sooner or later. Our host of characters can't simply hang out on an island hideaway forever.
As was pointed out, jobs and mortgages and all the other shit await!!
Where will we go form here?
Since much of this is pure fantasy, why not play with another fantasy that we all have from time to time.
The fantasy of leaving it all behind.
The fantasy that made that country song "Take this Job and Shove it" so wildly popular in its day.
Let's face it, we've all thought of what it would be like to just step out. Not worry about the house payment, or car payment. Not worry about keeping the boss, or customers happy. Just leaving!!
Jimmy Buffet created an empire around that theme.
Is there anyone among us that hasn't gone on a cruise or a vacation to some idyllic place and wondered what it would be like to never leave?
In Sugar Cane Revisited I'm guilty of playing on two weaknesses then that all of us interested in the realm of dominance and submission probably share.
The fantasy of being able to experience our fantasies on a daily basis, combined with the fantasy of just getting away from it all.
Our heroine gets to do both!!
As I try to evolve this from one phase to the next, I thought you might find a few things interesting, and, keeping them in mind might cast the stories in at least a slightly different light.
The Sugar Cane Plantation, in a different form actually exists.
It was the impetus for this story. Of course it's not called the Sugar Cane Plantation. And it's not a hidden bdsm club.
What it is, is a delightful bed and breakfast near the top of a mountain on an island. I was shopping for real estate one day and the realtor took us there for lunch.
It really was an old plantation house. It really does have old, crumbling brick walls. The main building really is restored from the original structure. It really is a delightful tropical hideaway.
The island where it is located really was one of the hubs of the slave trade back in the day. The old slave market is one of the tourist sights.
I not only fell in love with the place, but as I wandered about looking at the old structures, the seeds of The Sugar Cane Plantation began to form.
I won't tell you where it really is. At least not now.
I don't think the real owners, if they ever read this piece would appreciate the suggestion that their relatively upscale bed and breakfast was associated with terrible perversions.
I've given enough clues though so that anyone familiar with the West Indies should be able to figure it out. One hint: It's not in the Caribbean.
Obviously much of what I've written in terms of the bdsm activities is fantasy, but so that you can appreciate the perspective from which this is written, please understand that a significant portion is not. A significant portion is real!
1. The breeding rack.
Fortunate enough several years ago to be able to construct a fairly well equipped play space, and being handy with tools, my partners and I have enjoyed a structure that I've described as the breeding rack.
It of course was never used for such a purpose historically, but it was functioned in that regard. A woman fastened to it was indeed extremely obscenely exposed and vulnerable.
Talking about the experience to women that have been fastened into it gave rise to the descriptions in the story.
Without exception they described it as extremely humiliating, making them feel vulnerable, at the same time allowing them to enjoy being exhibited and used.
All described the experience as incredibly intense. Some wanted to ride again. Others said never again!
2. The cell.
In the same play space in which we were able to enjoy the breeding rack, we were able to have a regular cell with bars. In was made by having bars built to order and anchored into the frame of a standard bedroom closet. There was room to lie down, standup, take a couple of steps and that was it.
Submissives of mine, and I myself when in submissive mode have spent days locked in that cell. Since it was too small for any toilet facilities, we utilized a ritual where the prisoner would chain themselves hand and foot before being led out on a leash.
The only other reason they came out was to be whipped.
The cell was in the middle of the regular play area.