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Subject: Renfaire 96, Pt. 1, D/s F/M BD FD TV SP TK XYZ ETC
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[Author's note: I have never been to a Renfaire or any SCA
activity whatsoever. If you have, that is the explanation of the
oddities in this story -- at least those kinds of oddities. :)
Please consider this a Renfaire in an alternate universe. How is
that for suspending disbelief?]

                    Renfaire 96

                      by JW (c) 1998

Introduction

     This was our second Renfaire since meeting a bit over a year
ago. It started in a chat room just for meeting people. The topic
was, "If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?"
In a moment of brilliant honesty, I said, "Bondage model. But I
don't have the legs for it." We were in private chat immediately.

     Sally and I were the perfect match, alike in mind and tastes
in most areas including in sex. She loved bondage and spanking
but only really liked sex with men but for her the surrender of
the D/s lifestyle required a woman. Or a man dressed as a woman
which was the idea she had been toying with for some time.

     She didn't like the men she had talked to about it she told
me although there were plenty of takers on the idea. It was not
until after our first two meetings that she told me why.

     They were not submissive at all. They were just going about
being predatory in a backward manner as she put it. I had seen
that myself, the "beat me or else" attitude I called it.

     I preferred living in women's clothes. To me the submissive
role was more of a romantic idea. It was something that just
happened to have sex involved if it worked out right. It was
something for expressing love, not for living as a simpering
little girl.

     I was modestly well off, having fortuitously made my wealth
earlier than most. My income was well secured by the national
debt. But what that really meant to me was that if my dressing
habits were splashed as headlines around the world, I need only
shrug. It would make no change in my life, except perhaps a flood
of "interesting" offers from strangers.

     Sally was a corporate attorney. A comfortable income,
regular hours and with a laid back company. In any event we were
far from their most unusual couple. I was introduced to a pre-op
at an office party.

     We chatted a bit on finding well fitting clothes. It was
much easier for him on hormones than for me. Sally had to find a
seamstress for me.

     All in all, we were a match made in heaven. More on us in a
later story. Now on with the story of Renfaire 96.

PART I

     And we went to our second Renfaire. Renaissance Faire or
sometimes Festival. Costuming isn't compulsory but it is
recommended and encouraged. And unlike Halloween parties they go
on for days and nights some times several weekends in a row, days
of being in costume.

     At our first Renfaire, we had not been not costumed just
enjoying something new together. For both of us it was our first
time. It was one of those things we had always sworn to do but
never got around to doing on our own.

     At that one Sally had pointed out the women in leggings and
the men in kilts and suggested this scene had potential.

     Now this was our second Faire and Sally had made
arrangements the previous year for us to be much a part of it.
Over the year I was to learn many things from Sally, dressing for
the occasion was one of them. That was something that had never
quite settled in on my everyday thinking until her.

     We spent most of the morning dressing and mostly her
dressing me. She loved doing it as much as I loved her doing it.
Some times we had an entire evening of foreplay with me as here
"barbie doll," dressing and undressing me; changing my makeup and
styles; coaching my walking, talking and body language.

     She drove of course and we stopped at a burger place drive
through for a quick lunch. Until this day, I had only been
dressed in public at night and among friends. This was my coming
out party so to speak.

     Yes, it did feel very odd sitting in the car wearing a floor
length satin gown with mutton sleeves, a long scarf draped over
my loosely curled, long blond hair and trying to look pretty.
What little I could claim to being even a cut above homely was
all due to Sally's makeup skill, something that a touch of
colorblindness kept from me achieving.

     That I was supposed to be in costume made it easier. I was
more excited than nervous. And the horror of horrors did happen.
Stopped at a light, a cop did pull up next to us and did look
quizzically at me. I smiled, shrugged and gestured to Sally to my
left in her costume. He laughed and turned his attention back to
the street for serious offenders like running yellow lights.

     As we entered the grounds and parked it was time for my big
moment. Sally (I reminded myself then that he was a he and named
Robin for the day) took my hands and lightly kissed my cheek --
makeup you know. "We'll be fine," she whispered. I didn't have to
have that encouragement but it was something extra for me to get
over the next big step, getting out of the car.

     Robin came around and opened the door for me. I gave "him"
my hand and used it to pull myself around and gather my skirt and
petticoats over the doorsill and stand erect with both feet
firmly on the ground. Practice, practice, practice until it is
second nature. I adjusted my long chiffon headscarf so it again
wrapped softly under my face and draped gently front and back.

     We headed for the park entrance. It was much different
walking here than walking around the house. Here the breeze
tugged at my skirts and long headscarf. It was a strange feeling
to have the scarf actually in the wind some three feet to my
left.

     My thigh-hi silk stockings, held up by ribbons tied just
below my knees, were brushed by grass. People passed close and
brushed my skirts, getting my attention without intending to do
so. I had to lift them over odd steps and such to avoid tripping.
Quite unique and different.

     We drew many a stare upon entering. And we also drew the
attention of the Sheriff of the Faire. He looked us over
intensely before approaching us. Here was the test of all tests.
To see if our story would work for us or against us.

     "Pray tell, what are these unusual, even unseemly,
costumes," he asked addressing neither of us directly, glancing
back and forth hoping for an answer. "There are certain rules we
must enforce and at our discretion. My apologies in advance if I
must ask you to change before you may return."

     Sally responded. "As you can see, I am now Robin of Locksley
and this is now the Maid Marian. We have suffered a terrible
fate. While being pursued by Prince John's men we became lost in
the forest and stumbled across the great wizard, Merlin. And he
was very sore angry and very sore to boot and booted too."

     "Simply because the stumbled across him?" inquired the
Sheriff, a very questioning expression on his face, not making
sense of the rest.

     "Quite literally, I am afraid. I, or rather Robin, who is
now the Maid Marian you see next to me, tripped over him while
running."

     "Was that so bad? Certainly he could excuse that. He is the
great Merlin."

     "Merlin was lying upon his side at the time taking an
afternoon nap in the glen. Mi'Lady's, rather Robin's, his or
hers, whomever's, booted toe tripped upon a certain part of
Merlin's anatomy of which Merlin vowed he was exceptionally fond.
As he awoke he doubled over and uttered such words as we have
never heard."

     "I would too," commented the Sheriff.

     "You miss my meaning. I am familiar with such words as men
speak. These were words such as mortal men do not speak."

     "A spell then, perhaps a curse as wizards speak."

     "Ay, that it was. There was immediately a curse upon us. And
we became was you see us now."

     "Certainly Merlin is not an evil wizard. He would remove
such a curse," opined the Sheriff.

     "That he would and said as much when his breath returned
many, many long moments later. But to remove this curse requires
a task of learning, of seeking knowledge and that is what brings
us today to your fair Faire."

     "And what be this task?"

     "That Robin, who is now the Maid, learn what maids learn in
the public life of these times. And that I help her to learn."

     "Then in search of that knowledge, I grant ye both the leave
of the Faire. But I bid you, tell all who inquire of your story
and," hushed, "keep it toned down for the kids here."

     As we began to wander the Faire, I smiled at Sally. "Well
delivered, my Robin. Your story had gained us run of the Faire."
I offered my hand to Robin.

     "I thank you, dear Marian," taking my hand and kissing it
gently. "Hold still and let me straighten your scarf. The wind is
getting to it." She produced a couple of bobby pins and
discreetly fixed it in place. I made a note to add that to my
inventory of "emergency" items to have in my purse at all times.

     Our costumes were all Sally's invention and created by Ruth,
a seamstress we met at the previous year's Faire. We had waited
the year to show them off.

     Sally wore the classic Erol Flynn version of Robin Hood, the
green clothing, leotards, the peaked hat with feather. And I, a
sky blue satin gown covering four petticoats for fullness. It
came up to my neck covering my ample D breastforms. The bodice
was laced snugly. A white ruffled insert simulated my cleavage.

     Its sleeves were full length mutton chop style. They were
full and puffy and they came off my shoulders. By the time they
reached my elbows they had tapered to skin tight. A small
extention from each went over the back of my hand and was held in
place by a loop over my middle finger.

     Early after we met Sally had convinced me to dye and perm my
hair and she lovingly had done it for me. Today it paid off more
than ever before. My face was framed by a mass of loose, soft,
blond curls draping down over my "breasts" in front and down my
back.

     A long white chiffon scarf was draped over my head and
crossed under my chin to the left. One end falling in front of
me, the other end down my back. If my scarf were removed matching
blue ribbon bows with streamers would be seen to decorate my
hair.

     I may not have been stunning but I was feeling everything a
stunning woman would feel and do. And on top of it all, I was
quite modestly dressed for a maid. But far from maidenly thoughts
danced through my head when thinking of my Robin.

     As we walked, she would address the curious by announcing
the curse of Merlin. We had developed the story thoroughly but as
the curious asked questions, Sally, that is Robin, embellished it
in line with the questioning. Within an hour of wandering the
Faire, people would approach us with 'ye be the ones under the
curse' and the like. Now we would not have to answer so many
questions as Sally guided us towards the next step, my public
learning.

     She had said I would learn today what it was like to be a
woman in an unfamiliar and strange public place. She had talked
around it, being alone in the crowd, needing someone. It was
exciting but she had refused to tell me how she planned for me to
learn all this.

     "Bailiff," Robin spoke heartily, "I would make use of your
pillory for a good leave time." The time had come for me and it
looked like a harmless enough start.

     "And ye shall have it, Robin of Locksley, to restore
yourself and your maid." It was a very sturdy pillory, two inch
thick timbers to hold me in place, a six by six holding it above
the ground, all very nicely finished. There were two other ones
already occupied by girls but not in costume just shorts. They
appeared to be enjoying themselves, smiling and joking.

     Sally removed my head scarf, "Place her then." I was shocked
with that having expected Sally to deal with me. Two men easily
larger than me took my wrists and for a moment I froze to resist.
Sally quickly leaned forward to kiss my cheek. "This is for you,
my Marian." And I allowed myself to be lead without resistance to
the middle pillory by those men.

     They were into the scene. I was being assured by them, "Be
calm, Maid, it is for your own good and only for a little while."
I was treated as any woman would be treated.

     There was a gentle pressure on the back of my neck. The
bearded one eased me into the center depression. The other went
to the front and gently moved my hair so that it hung in front,
long and blond, nearly a foot below my face. Sally had taught me
to properly care for it.

     The man behind took one wrist and moved it to the depression
for it. "Calm lass, cooperate and it will soon be over." I
voluntarily put my wrist in the other depresssion. "Good for ye,
lass. Ye show courage."

     The top piece with the matching half circles was lowered
into place and large iron locks put through hasps and clicked
shut. The man in front, bowed to Robin and handed her the key,
"Ye now have the key to the maid's release."

     And for me, I was sort of frozen, pretending that nothing
had really happened when there was a sharp sting in my backside.
I yelped and tried to turn to see who did it and I could not move
at all. The crowd laughed and I realized I was locked in place
until Sally released me.

     I tried to laugh a little with the crowd but it was a bit of
a nervous laugh. I looked at the girl to my right and realized
that was the way she was laughing. I caught her eyes and she
looked at my sympathetically and I tried to return it. I
understood her better at that point than I could ever have
imagined. I had learned something ...

     But I was still in my gown ... and I caught myself getting
to far into the scene. Then Robin addressed the crowd. "It
appears the Maid is in need of learning of the punishment of the
pillory ..." and with that went around back of me out of my
sight. And I felt my gown and petticoats being raised and tucked
and bunched into my waistband.

     "Sal ... ROBIN!! This was not part of it."

     "Hush, Marian, this is for both of us."

     This was for creative anachronism so all she exposed were
white silk bloomers going down to the middle of my thighs. I
still believe it was only public nudity laws that saved me from
worse that day.

     A slight breeze made its ruffles and lace trim flutter
against my legs and the loose bloomers furl against my skin. My
legs were cooler now with the hot skirts out of the way. I got to
wondering how women ever put up with long skirts in the summer
and learned another thing.

     They do put up with what is required of them. Certainly I
did to, I thought. Hmmm ... put up with was not quite it, more
like change it, make it right. I only put up with it as long as
necessary.

     "Would ye bailiffs be so kind as to lend me assistance?"
Sally spoke in her deepest, heartiest voice. Again I attempted to
bolt upright but moved scarely at all. I remained silent this
time, trusting my Sally. She knew I had no interest in men. I
found the idea distasteful.

     "While I apply this switch to the Maid's fair sit spot ... "
I must have gotten a strange expression on my face as the small
crowd in front of me erupted in laughter " ... I would have you
advise me if you feel the welts are too severe for such a tender
maid." How could they when my butt was covered? I cringed again
as the possibilities flashed through my mind and there was more
laughter from the crowd. A growing crowd I might add.

     "Our pleasure, Robin." I could hear the chuckling in their
voices. Then quickly a swish and crack. I yelped in the high
pitched voice Sally had trained into me. Again the crowd laughed
and the crowd grew larger. I had attracted attention.

     After a moment I found I was tensed for another cut and
willed myself to relax. I felt two hands running over where the
switch had struck. They were not Sally's hands. I felt a burst of
anger and tried to stand again with no better luck. I tried to
pull away but there was no place for me to move. Finally, I
accepted and blushed deeply, I didn't want to be touched by men.

     "Hardly a welt at all, Robin. Certainly she can take harder
blows." "Ay," the other male voice agreed. Some in the men in the
crowd began shouting words like 'harder' and 'more.' I never felt
more alone then than ever before. Here was a crowd of total
strangers, men whose thought should be to help a maid in such
distress, wanting to see me hurt more, encouraging another to
hurt me.

     I looked to my right to see my fellow suffering in the
stocks giving a man I assumed her boyfriend a look that could
kill and clearly meant, don't get any ideas, buster. There was
much I could learn from her expressions.

     I looked to my left and saw the redhead looking at me with
crooked grin that said to me, now you are learning what it is
like. Yes, I was and men's hands touching me when I did not want
them to touch me. And nothing I could do about it, not one thing.
Alone in a crowd, helpless.

     "I think you are correct, good bailiffs," at least it was
her hand touching me this time. A swish and a crack and another
yelp and then quickly again and again and again and again. I was
hissing through gritted teeth feeling the pain grow to one thick
line of pain on the backs of my thighs.

     As I was catching my breath the hands roughly ran over my
thighs. I wiggled and struggled this time, not giving up this
time. "Stop touching me, you fucking bastards!" I screamed and it
did come out high pitched. Sally's training continued even when I
didn't feel like playing the game.

     One of the bailiffs spoke loudly. "She has a mouth like a
house wench rather than a maid. She embarrasses herself and you.
Shall we gag her?"

     "'twould be good," Robin said. The bearded one came around
with a rolled white cloth. He held it to my mouth.

     "Open, maid, 'tis for your own good." I shook my head no and
clench my teeth. He stroked my hair (making matters worse) and
whispered in my ear, "I'll be gentle with ye." Again I shook my
head no. He sighed and spoke to his partner, "Robard, will ye
open the maid's mouth for me?"

     I waited and waited but he didn't come round. I looked to
the crowd. The women's eyes were wide. The men were smiling.
Something was up. A resounding crack and my backside exploded in
fire and I screamed. My eyes filled with tears. I barely noticed
when the cloth went between my teeth. "Perhaps now, Maid, ye
will learn to do what a bailiff tells ye to do when he tells ye
to do it."

     I was spitting mad now but I could not spit. I could make
noise all right and I called him ever name in the book. Not one
word was intelligable but I was loud about it. It barely quieted
me. I could no longer "embarrass" myself with my language.

     And it hurt my cheeks. It was only a cleave gag but for
real not for TV entertainment. Tied tightly enough that I could
not work it out. I had come to hate them for the pain they caused
if they were to work.

     Twisting my head, struggling to reach the gag with my hands.
I strained but there was no give in the stocks.  I pushed on it
till my tongue hurt. It would not budge. I couldn't stop the
pain.

     It was frustrating. I was frustrated. The tears from the
pain in my cheeks and the pain in my ass were joined with some of
frustration as I gave up.

     As I was trying to get into my surrendering headspace, I
felt another cloth being tied just above my knees. I must have
spread my legs in a very unmaidenly manner. And, damn it!, my
nose started to itch.

     Alone in the crowd with everyone working against me, I gave
up. I was in my space. I collapsed as well as I could bent over
and quietly wept. And my backside lit up again this time with
stings all over.

     Over and over, little points of fire, dozens at a time, over
and over again. I let out little screams and yelps each time
through a rain of tears and loud sobs. My gag was soaked. My nose
was running. I was drooling. I was totally embarrassed. I didn't
care. I just waited for it to stop.

     Finally it did stop and the rough hands were all over my
butt and thighs. "I think ye have done the maid to a turn, Sir
Robin of Locksley." This time I thought of begging them to stop
touching me but it was no use even trying with my gag still
painfully in place. I don't think I could have gotten a coherent
word passed my sobs even without the gag.

     I just stood there and cried my eyes out. I wiggled my butt
trying to get rid of some of the sting and burn but even the silk
felt rough. I don't know if it helped more or hurt more.

     Women came up from the crowd to comfort me. My hands were
held gently and I squeezed for the comfort they offered. Another
was running tissues over my cheeks, drying my tears even while
they were still flowing. "Can't we take off her gag?" one asked.

     "Not until she is released completely." replied Robin. And
to that I heard a round of "men!" in low, disgusted tones. I
nodded my agreement with them and felt another reason to weep for
the way I was being treated.

     Time was gone. I was measuring everything by the depth of my
sobs and the small comforts I was given. But they had to leave as
their boyfriends felt the excitement was over.

     Their boyfriends took the women with them. Lots of 'sorries,
I have to go' and pecks on the cheek. Some goodbye wipes of my
tears and tissues to my nose to blow. I looked up into their eyes
and tried to tell them, 'yes, now I do understand why you have to
go. Thank you for caring.'

     I don't know how much time had passed while I was bent over
crying, sniffling, trying to get back some of my dignity. Finally
Robin came round and untied my gag.

     I just looked into her eyes, still sniffling a little and
begged, "Please scratch my nose."

end part I


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