“If you are easily offended or even remotely squeamish, don’t read on!”
The Naked Strewthpidity of Camp Tantra 1991 – 4.1
I am not particularly squeamish, but having said that l am too a certain degree. For instance l can’t stand seeing running snot or mucus running from a child’s nose, nor do l have the strongest stomach for changing a baby’s diaper. I have to turn the other way if l see operations on TV with regards eyes. So anything that even remotely displays something going for the eye l tend to squirm a bit in my seat. I can stand the sight of blood without passing out, but if that blood is coming from someone’s nose l turn green. I can see blood and gore and not be too concerned by it all, and yet l should imagine like others certain scenes turn my stomach. I cannot look at a slug on the ground without suddenly and rather bizarrely tasting it or imagining it is my mouth and suddenly l want to throw up, and also if someone pretends to heave like they are throwing up and l am running out the door! A cat l once had snot coughed into my open mouth and l nearly died there and then on the spot. So whilst l am NOT squeamish – l am!
Years ago when l was around my mid twenties, l even gave it thought to having a favourite drawing of mine tattooed upon my back. But when l heard the price it would cost me, l backed out, and then l backed away even faster when they said they would have to do the outline in one sitting and that alone could take 8 hours, and if l sat through that they would offer me a discount. I said no. As a final no way, they said that because of the colour management of the design if l sat through the whole thing in the space of one week, they wouldn’t charge me the £1000 but only charge me £600.
I don’t have a problem with needles, never have, so l initially thought how hard could it be? But both the price and sitting or rather lying down for so many hours scared me more. Below is the drawing l wanted on my back. I am glad l didn’t get it done, as l feel l may well have regretted it. i don’t have a problem with inked people, but l realised this was too much. as you can see l still have the drawing l created when l was 12.
I was very taken with the culture of the Samurai when younger, but l guess that is no different to many twelve year olds.
I have never had any piercings, well part from getting my ears pierced when l was 15, and in many ways l could thank Cutsie the squirrel for that, no, no l don’t mean her/him/it trying to rip off my left ear, l just mean that Cutsie did some damage to the nerve endings in my lobe, so l don’t often feel pain in that lobe. So getting it pierced was easy peasy. My Dad trying to yank it out was not so much fun, but hey, that’s life right?
I have been out with women who have had piercings in some funny places, most of them incredibly ticklish and l once met a chap who had seventeen piercings in his penis and he said that he was always experiencing orgasm even when he walked! But that never appealed, well at least not voluntary!
So, there is a clue here, notably piercings by volunteering, this tale is about the last day of the Camp Tantra and me receiving an involuntary penis piercing! This is also the second to last Camp Tantra Tale next to the Frug which l will explain in the next day or two. You can find the others in the series here .. The Best Things I have Ever Done Naked!! This tale like Number 3 are dedicated to Mel of Crushed Caramel and Fandango of This, That and The Other
The Wood Barking Up The Wrong Tree!
“Okay, this is your last warning, if you are squeamish DO NOT read on!”
In my world there are two types of flying fox, three if you include the actual Flying Fox, but principally, there is zip line and there is the sitting down zip line. I have performed both types, ironically both ended in disaster, but at least the first one didn’t make me think l was going to lose my manhood and just be leave me with the hood!
The first one was oddly enough on another camping trip, but when l was much much younger around the age of 11 when with the scouts – that time it was a case of lying down in a strange pouch on my stomach, and the cable broke at 100 foot up, so no real biggie l mean thank gawd for the river below and all l had to put up with was a really horrible landing on my stomach aka flat belly flop – the water broke my fall literally! The second time was at Camp Tantra in 1991, when l had to sit on the chair style of pouch wearing nothing but a pearly white smile!
That one was a little trickier, and again it wasn’t lost on me that the damn cable slackened and that is why l hit the trees the way l did, however l digress … or not really as this tale is about Camp Tantra and the dreadful accident that left me practically manless as well as looking down to the inside of the so called manliness!
Last day at the camp, we had two ‘events’ left one was the Frug in the evening, which can be told another time, where l learned that by saying my ‘partner comes first’, can be easily misinterpreted to not mean what l meant, but hey ho, so many turns of words and phrases have double meanings don’t they? But it wasn’t exactly untrue, but that is another story! But the first event was the flying fox event that everyone according to Clare had to participate in to appear community orientated.
I have to be honest and say it was juggly good fun, oops my bad, l meant jolly good fun! I am all a quiver of thinking at just how jolly juggly it really was and yes l totally agrred with Clare’s community spirit, perhaps too much maybe! Clare and l split up two weeks after Camp Tantra, not because of the jolly jugglies, and not because l decided to use my penis as a voodoo doll, but because of something else and something else in addition to that, but that shall be discussed in the Frug!
I wasn’t overly enamoured however when she told me that the only thing l was allowed to wear was my smile! Considering just how many mishaps l had already experienced in the few days we had been there as a couple l did enquire as to whether that really was the wisest of decisions? Oh of course she said what else could possibly go wrong? She insisted that l had had roughly 9 accidents and if l was a cat l would be dead and yet here l was alive and kicking and that l should stop worrying about it, if my time was up, my time would be up. Although she laughed, l wasn’t entirely sure if it was the wind or a door opening and thus producing a creak, but l could’ve sworn l heard a cackle!
The Flying Fox was a seated arrangement, starting at a much higher pole and on the rope system swinging down to a much lower pole. In all l guess the heights in questions ranged from 80 feet swinging down to 20 feet across a distance of perhaps 100 feet in length. So when you think about it, not a lot at all ……… providing you are clothed, but these chasms become far greater when you are naked, and sadly prone to high jinxery and tom foolery! In addition to just being accidental and terribly clumsy, l was a bit of an ass.
Even her Father questioned whether l of all the other naked community challengers should be entirely in the buff, and whether l should just be wearing my silly elephantine jockeys?? But no Clare assured her Father it would all be fine!
Famous last words!
I experienced a few problems during this camping trip other than the stories already addressed, most notably was being the age l was  and sexually active, and turned on through a form of hypersensitivity [thanks undiagnosed Asperger’s, wish l had known about you in 91], so in essence it wasn’t just nakedness that turned me on and there was plenty of that, but even the wind could produce a bloody annoying erection!
You see that’s what happened, l got onto the zipline with an erection, l was trying desperately to hide, so had to tuck that damn thing between my legs and sit on it, no no, l am not that big, but sitting on your member on a silly flimsy piece of pouch no bigger than a thong means you are also sitting rather uncomfortably on your nuts! I was just trying to make myself more comfortable when Clare pushed me off and suddenly l was airborne and whizzing through the air with the wind tickling my bits and l sort of stood up when l shouldn’t have done at the same time that another zipper well endowed female moved past me at speed and l was like OMG!
It was at this point l twisted in my seat, and for some reason the cable l was on slackened and dropped me by about thirty feet!! When l realised l had a problem, l was approx 5 seconds out from the tree line or notably the trunk line and before two shakes of a lambs tail, l had crashed into the trunk and branches of a nearby pine tree!!!!
I digress slightly here, however it’s my story and l’ll try if l want to! In my personal opinion, the willy or penis if you prefer straight talking is not the prettiest thing a man has, and whilst it has many practical uses, one non-practical task it’s not good at is its stopping power against a solid object, whilst the other is l can safely say through bitter experience that it hasn’t got the ability to be used as a vaulting pole!
In the few seconds after impact, l can say that l no longer had to contend with erectile problems! It had lost all of its zest for life let alone anything frivolous! But in those same sudden seconds of realising l had impacted with a pine tree’s trunk and thus such its bark, l realised in the same milisecond that l was not Fred Flintsone and no amount of running in space was going to keep me in that tree after l was out of my seat, so l promptly slid down said tree and in essence the old joke of using ones balls as breaks holds no ground. So l slid slipped and fell down the side of the tree and then landed in a heap at the bottom, thankfully on both the roots and the a bed of pine needles and cones!
Once l had landed l actually thought l was dead, but alas l wasn’t that lucky or unlucky as the case goes! I had within a minute jugglies and jollies surrounding me and l was picked up and asked if anything else hurt apart from my pride? Were any bones broken? No, not one, well not a real bone, l did worry if my penis would ever be the same again admittedly as it looked somewhat abashed and bruised! There was a distinct sweet smelling pineness to me, which for the record took three days and many showers to actually eradicate!
I told everyone, that l would prefer to go back to the cabin and as l started to walk off, l noticed that l had a strange pain in my groin, and upon closer inspection, it was soon revealed that the bark was not just worse than the proverbial bite, but l had a series of bark burns and bark splinters! Most could be removed except for two! I also found l had a bumful of pine needles, they’re a bit like sand, they get everywhere!
I had to go and see the camp’s nurse who tactfully removed one of the two splinters from Mr Willy, which had wiggled its way into the side of my shaft rather indelicately, but it was then proved that the second splinter had actually entered the urethra!!! I was then introduced to a serious instrument, that in short opened up inside there and expanded like an upside down umbrella!! I had been rather brave up till that point, but then l screamed like something from Alien when it exploded from John Hurt’s chest cavity!
In truth, l felt quite depleted after the flying fox grand event. Whilst l was able to walk, l tended to lean slightly to my left and l had a feeling that l was carrying half a broken log in my own log, and the nurse said that was the effects of the fall, the impact, the bruising and of course the splinter removal.
Clare was quite sympathetic , her Father more so, who l think even he squealed a little bit when he saw the damage after trunk impact! It really was a bit like that discovery scene from the film Something About Mary!
I took the rest of the afternoon off, and proceeded to have ice in cloth wrapped over my groin, it really was quite the adventure it has to be said, and thankfully one l have never repeated!
The last event of the night was of course the Frug, and in truth, l was really quite relieved that Camp Tantra was coming to its end!
You were warned!
Final Part Soon