Make me Yours
“If I don’t get those accounts by Monday, someone will be out of a job, and I can promise you it won’t be me.”
Gina slammed down the phone, not allowing the man on the end of the line to get another word in.
She rolled her head on her shoulders, trying to ease the knotted muscles. Thank God it was Friday. She needed this weekend. Of course she’d basically just ruined someone else’s but there wasn’t anything she could do about that. To get ahead in business as a woman you needed to be a hard-ass. If some people called you ‘bitch’ behind your back, then so be it.
At the thought of the weekend ahead, Gina’s eyes flicked to her cell phone. The screen remained dark; no call or text message lighting the display.
She sighed again, but this time for a different reason. She hoped he’d call. The nature of their relationship meant she never called him. Everything was on his terms and she liked it that way.
But there were times like this she wished she could conjure him up at will. Right now, nothing would feel better than being strapped to her bed while he reined attention down on her, kisses building to nibbles, nibbled building to bites, bites building to slaps.
Gina squeezed her thighs together, her pussy tightening in pleasure. She squirmed in her seat, her thigh-high stockings and suspenders neatly hidden beneath her prim and proper business suit.
It was getting late and she was the last one left in the office, as usual. She picked up her purse and headed from her private section. A woman in overalls ran a vacuum down the empty corridor and they flashed each other a polite smile and a ‘goodnight’ as Gina passed by.
She caught the elevator down to the ground floor and exited though the lobby. As she stepped out onto the street, a smile caught her lips.
A shiny black saloon Jaguar waited at the curb-side. She stopped dead and the driver’s door cracked open. Derek leaned around out, taking in the sight of her standing there.
“What are you waiting for? Get in.”
A mixture of nerves and excitement fluttered in her stomach and she tried not to skip as she made her way around the front of the car to the passenger side. He leaned across and cracked the door open for her. She slid onto the leather seat, the aroma of ‘new car’ filling her nostrils.
Gina risked a glance. As always, he was dressed in an expensive dark gray suit—probably Ralph Lauren or Louis Vuitton—and his short hair was gelled away from his face. A heavy fridge of dark lashes made him look at though he wore eye-liner, though the lashes were his only feminine quality. His fine, straight nose and cut jaw made for a formidable profile.
“Derek,” she said with pleasure. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you...”
“No talking. You stay quiet until I tell you to speak.”
She pressed her lips together and lowered her head, looking down at where her hands clutched her purse in her lap. She wanted to ask where they were going, hoping he wouldn’t take her to a bar or a restaurant. While the torture of him dragging out her lesson was exquisite, tonight she just wanted to be taken.
He pulled the car out into traffic. With his attention still focused on the road, he reached across and pushed his large hand between her thighs. His fingers met with the already damp lace of her underwear. Pressure against her clit for the briefest of moments sent sparks through her, before he pulled away
“You’re wearing panties,” he said, his disproval radiating in his tone.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a hurry. “I hadn’t realized...”
“Did I tell you to talk?”
She shut her mouth and gave her head a brief shake. He withdrew his hand and she hiked her pencil skirt up further in order to rid herself of the offending underwear. Lifting her ass off the leather seat, she wriggled out of the panties, hooking them over her heels and then dropping them in the foot well. She went to pull her skirt back down, but his hand on her thigh stopped her.
Gina slowly lowered her bottom to the seat, the leather warm and smooth against her naked rump. With her skirt rumpled around her waist, her thigh-highs and suspenders were revealed, as was the small patch of blonde curls nestled between her thighs. She shivered with anticipation, longing for him to reach back over and touch her again, push a thick digit inside her and finger her while he was driving, but he did not. Instead, he simply drove while she sat there, exposed, her juices leaving a wet spot on the leather.
She glanced out of the passenger window, trying to distract herself from the illicit thoughts racing through her head. If she wasn’t careful, she’d not be able to help herself and climb onto his lap here and now. Derek wouldn’t like that. He’d punish her.
The route they were taking was familiar. They were going to his place.
Gina suppressed a smile. When he took her back to his it was usually for the whole weekend. She always kept a spare toothbrush and a clean pair of panties in her purse, just in case. However, it didn’t look like this one was going to be a panty-wearing weekend anyway.
Derek wasn’t comfortable staying at her apartment. When they went to hers, he’d screw her senseless and then leave. But he was happy to have her in his own domain and she’d normally leave last thing Sunday night, exhausted and sore, but strangely at peace.
Derek pulled the car into the private parking lot beneath his building.
He turned to her. “Cover yourself up.”
“Yes Sir,” she said, still disappointed he’d not touched her yet. She knew she’d left a smear of her own cream on the seat and heat rushed to her cheeks. At least in the dim light he wouldn’t notice.
Except he did.
“Wet already?” he said, lifting one eyebrow. “I don’t remember telling you to get wet.”
“Sorry,” she whispered, mortified.
“Good. Now get up to the apartment.”
They rode the elevator up to the penthouse in silence. Stood, side by side, not touching. Mirrors reflected them from all sides—her blonde hair caught up in a chignon, her cheeks with a high flush of color. As always, Derek remained cool, his dark eyes impassive.
Gina tried not to tremble, tried to stay calm, but she knew what was ahead.
The doors pinged open and they stepped through. His was the only apartment on this floor. Derek fished his keys from his pocket and opened the door. He stood in the doorway, forcing her to brush past him as she walked by. Her skin raced with goose bumps at the contact, her breath catching in her chest.
“You know where I want you,” he said, pushing the door shut with the sole of his expensive shoe.
She did. Gina crossed through his minimalistic living space—all black leather, glass and chrome—and into the bedroom.
He followed her in. “Take it off.” His chin jerked at her suit, his eyes roving up and down her body.
Standing before him, Gina shrugged off her suit jacket and then picked each button of her shirt from its corresponding hole. She reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, freeing her small breasts. Her nipples were large in relation to the soft mounds of her tits, but they were ideal for being twisted and pulled into elongated nubs, perfect for whatever Derek felt like clipping to their sensitive peaks.
She popped the button on her skirt and wriggled it down over her hips. The item pooled at her feet and she stepped out of it. Stood in only her heels, stockings and suspenders, her body thrummed with sex.
“Bend over,” he instructed, nodding to the bed.
Gina turned around and placed her palms flat against the mattress. She pushed her rear out toward him, her back flat. Derek moved up behind her, his breath hot against the back of her ear.
He kissed her, the back of her neck, her cheek. Without removing her hands from the bed, she turned her face and captured his mouth. His tongue pressed forcefully into her mouth in a kiss that was close to a bite. Then he pulled away again, the show of affection only a brief respite.
His hands ran over her body, smoothing from her shoulders, down her spine and over her buttocks. He withdrew his hand and his palm landed on her bare ass with a sharp crack and a sting of pain. Gina moaned, fisting the sheets.
He lifted his hand and spanked her again, this time on her other buttock. Heat bloomed on her sensitive skin, but he didn’t give her any time to recover. He landed another smack, and then another and another, building up a rhythm.
Endorphins flared in her body, those hormones creating a high to counteract the pain. She cried out as he delivered a couple of particularly hard spanks, her toes curling in her heels. When his hands next made contact with her skin it was with a gentle touch, his palms smoothing away the sharp pain. Her head swam, the chemical reaction her body had started not dissipating just because the pain had stopped.
Her pussy clenched with a forceful throb, fresh cream pulsing from her body, dampening the insides of her thighs.
“Please,” she begged. “Please...” Her voice broke off with a sob, but the reaction was one of desire and frustration. She wanted him to penetrate her so badly it contained the power of an addiction. No one else understood this part of her, this part that wanted to be broken down and lifted up, to be owned and to obey. She’d be bruised and marked in the morning, but she somehow looked forward to seeing the abrasions, knowing he’d put them on her.
His voice came from behind. “Hush.”
She sensed his movement before she saw it, how he leaned down beside the bed to retrieve a black leather flogger whip. She knew from previous experience that the multiple strands of leather were as soft as velvet.
“Brand me,” she said, her breath mere gasps, like a fish struggling for air. “Make me yours.”
The straps licked her skin, gentle at first but then he brought it down hard, the leather cracking against her flesh. He increased the power of his strikes until each lash whipped her with a vicious sting. The blows rained down on her ass and then her back and shoulders, leaving strips of red in their wake.
The pain felt exquisite, every part of her tightened into a coil of burning nerves. Her ass flared with heat and her cunt clenched every time a flick of Derek’s wrist sent the flogger lashing upon her. She was solely focused on how she felt, internalized, forgetting even the man who delivered such a parody of pleasure. He was taking her to another level; one where only she and the sensations gripping her body existed.
He paused once more, giving her time to bask in the afterglow while he retrieved a paddle, though he kept hold of the flogger. The new toy delivered a sharper blow, closer to the smack of a palm and she drew a sharp intake of breath each time the paddle hit her receptive bottom.
Derek turned the handle of the flogger around. The cool leather pressed between her swollen, wet pussy lips. She gasped but spread her legs, allowing access. The handle slid inside her, her juices slicking the way.
He continued to spank her with the paddle, the smacks increasing in speed and intensity. Her whole head spun, the sensations coursing through her body too great to hold onto. Her cunt clenched hard around the inanimate object and he held it deep within her, not moving the handle inside her. Her body took over, her inner muscles contracting and pulsing around the hard cylinder of leather.
Gina’s orgasm took her by surprise, rolling out over her in waves so forceful she cried out. Her legs grew weak beneath her, trembling as the force of her coming powered over her. Her pussy rippled around the handle as though trying to pull it deeper. Her hands fisted in the clean, white sheets, and she issued cried of ‘oh, oh, oh’ as she came.
Her body slumped, her head hung beneath the shoulders. Derek slipped the flogger from her sopping slit and dropped it to the floor. He leant over her back and kissed the base of her neck, working down her spine with gentle, healing kisses.
She allowed the final tremors of her orgasm to shudder through her. Gradually her breathing returned to normal, though she knew it wouldn’t be for long.
This was only the start.
Some Love it Rough!
Romance and erotica author, M.K. Elliott's latest offering is a collection of short stories sure to get you hot in all the right places. Some Love it Rough! is the second in the 'Some Love it...' series. The first in the series, Some Love it Hot! has been hovering around the top 20 bestsellers in erotica on Amazon for the past six weeks and hopefully, Some Love it Rough! will follow suit. It's available to buy now for only $0.99!
To give you all a little taster, the following are excepts from three of the five short stories the collection contains.
A Rough Ride
Brenda finished typing and hit save. The blasted report that Mr. Carswell demanded to have on his desk first thing tomorrow was finally finished. She arched her back and glanced at the clock. Holy cripes, after ten? Time to head home and get some sleep before coming back early in the morning.
She hit the key to print and gathered her things together. After collecting the sheets of paper from her printer, Brenda went to Carswell’s office and laid a copy in the middle of his desk. On the way out, she laid a second copy on his secretary’s desk. She’d learned her lesson about covering her ass the last time he pulled this stunt.
Heading down the hallway and dreaming of her bed, Brenda slowed as she neared her own office. A shadow worked its way across her open door. Someone was in her office. This late at night, no one else should be here.
As she debated what she should do, the shadow moved again and a man stepped out into the hall.
“Dan Barnett, you scared the crap out of me.” Relief tinged her admonition and she took a moment to drink him in.
While she normally didn’t date co-workers, Dan was an exception that she was willing to make. If he’d been interested, that is. She’d flirted with him, but as yet, he hadn’t taken the bait. Tall and buff with dark hair and chocolate brown eyes, he was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome.
“Sorry, Bren. I saw your light on and came to walk you to your car. If you’re done?” His husky voice sent an erotic shiver dancing down her spine.
Shaking those thoughts away, she nodded. “Yep. Just delivered it to Carswell’s office. Let me get my things.”
She slid past him, surprised when he didn’t move, forcing her to brush against him. He usually went out of his way to keep his distance. The slight touch was enough to ignite her libido, despite her fatigue. Her nipples hardened, poking through the thin lace bra and silk blouse she wore.
Heat roared its way up her cheeks and she averted her gaze. How embarrassing. One small, inadvertent touch and she was primed to go. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice.
Rounding her desk, she leaned over to retrieve her purse from the bottom desk drawer. A caress down the right globe of her ass had her springing back up and turning to face him.
Dan leaned his big body into hers, trapping her against the desk. “I love your ass, Brenda. Every time you walk by my office, that shake of yours gets me hot.”
Leaning into her, Dan nipped at her neck and crowded closer, the evidence of his arousal poked at her belly.
Brenda released a moan and tilted her head back to give him better access to the sensitive skin near her ear. She’d thought of this moment, masturbated to thoughts of him, but never believed it would happen. He’d never shown her anything, but friendship.
“What’s gotten into you? You’ve never been interested in me.” Brenda pushed at his chest and he lifted those sinful lips, though he didn’t move away from her.
“Oh, I’ve been interested, but unavailable until now.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I first started here, I had a girlfriend.”
“You don’t now?”
“No, we’ve been over for a while now. Was I wrong about your interest?” His dark eyes turned serious and he started to back away.
Brenda grabbed his shirt and pulled him back in. “No. This is just unexpected, not unwelcome.”
With her words, the fire lit his eyes, turning them into molten chocolate and he claimed her mouth in a kiss so hot, she was surprised the fire alarm didn’t go off.
His tongue slid across hers like velvet and explored every crevice, stoking the blaze inside her higher and higher. She wrapped her leg around his hip and pulled him even closer as his hand found her breast.
Her hands tunneled through his hair and she tried to get closer, rubbing her pussy against the erection straining his pants.
Breaking away, Dan dropped his head on her shoulder, panting. “If we keep this up, I won’t be able to control myself.”
“Who said I wanted you to?” Brenda fumbled with his belt buckle until if finally pulled free. The button and zipper came next. His hard dick all but jumped out at her. “Commando?”
He lifted head and started to answer, but she’d started stroking his cock and a groan was all that made it out.
After a minute of fondling him and rubbing the pre-cum on his mushroom tip, he pulled her blouse open. She heard the ping of plastic buttons hitting her desktop and mourned the loss of one of her favorite blouses. Then his hot breath surrounded the pert tips poking through her bra and she forgot about her clothes.
He sucked one nipple into his mouth and bit lightly. The small bite of pain laced with pleasure raced through her, urging her higher. One of Dan’s hands slid up her leg to her panties. He rubbed his finger along the wet spot there before nudging them aside and plunging his finger inside her moist heat.
Writhing against him, Brenda fell into the rhythm he’d set as he added another digit and then a third. Her climax quickly built, she was so close. She moaned, reaching for the pinnacle and just as she was sure to reach it, Dan withdrew his fingers.
“No!” Her protest had too much whine in it to be effective.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
Dan whirled her around and she splayed across her desktop. Yanking her skirt up and her panties down, he leaned forward and bit her where her neck met her shoulder. A shiver worked through her and she wondered at the bit of pain enhancing her pleasure.
A rustling sound behind her prompted her to look over her shoulder. Dan rolled a condom over his thick cock before grabbing her hips and entering her in one push. Arching her back to take him deeper, Brenda lifted her ass.
In the next instant, Dan’s hand came down on her cheek. The smack startled her, but her body seemed to respond reflexively, leaning into him. Another stinging slap and another, he rained blows on her ass until both globes heated beneath his ministrations.
The spanking turned Dan on as well. The more she pleaded for more, the harder and deeper he thrust into her. The tension in her body pulled back like the string on a bow. Tighter and tighter and tighter. She was going to come. Almost there.
Dan smoothed his hands over her flaming butt and then slid around to pinch her clit. That one extra bit of stimulation was all it took to tip her over the edge. The bow snapped and the arrow let loose in a torrential explosion of sensation.
Stars shot across her closed eyelids and she screamed, loud, as the biggest orgasm she’d ever had flooded her nerve endings. Dan pumped one, two more times before he grunted behind her and held himself still.
Brenda fell forward on her desk, her legs unable to hold her any longer. After a moment, Dan withdrew his cock and disposed of the condom.
“Wow. Glad I had to work late. That made it worth it.”
“Happy to oblige.”
Pulling her panties and righting her skirt, she felt suddenly shy. What if he thought she did this with just anyone? That she was easy? What if this was all he wanted?
Cursing herself for allowing her body to overrule her brain, she rooted in her desk for a couple of safety pins she’d stashed away. They would hold her blouse together long enough for her to get home.
While she repaired her blouse, she could hear Dan dressing himself. Callused fingers slid under her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to face him.
Serious chocolate eyes bored into hers. “I’m honored that you shared that with me.”
Heat flamed her cheeks and she knew a blush had broken out across her fair skin.
“I’d like to take you out.”
“I know we did things a little backward, but I want to be with you. You’re a special lady and your friendship has been great, but I’d like us to take our relationship to the next level.”
“Really. Dinner tomorrow?”
Dan walked her out to her car. As she let the engine warm up, she rolled down her window. He cupped her neck and drug her forward for a long, slow kiss.
A promise of things to come.
Please return on November 30th for Scarlett’s review of a must-have sex toy.
If you missed any of our first month’s posts and would like to catch up, you can purchase the Everything Erotic Volume I anthology as an ebook for only $2.99!
Copyright © 2010 Scarlett Jameson
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
HUZZAH! A BDSM Festival For a Novice (part one)
Welcome, George! We're thrilled to read what you have to share on your first BDSM experience.
This is a journalistic article on my experiences at a 24-hour BDSM festival (including lock down). Everything written is true.
When I think of dominating someone - of being in control of their pain or pleasure, I get an odd sensation in my stomach that travels down to my tingling groin. It's a fantasy of mine, one I engage myself several times a year in reading or a quick, forbidden glance behind the safe Internet zone.
So, when I had the chance to attend my first BDSM festival and seminar across state a year ago, I salivated for weeks. Would I go? I mean, it would help me with upcoming m/m erotica ideas. Practically like research.
What would I see? What would I learn? Most importantly - what would I be able to do?
That thought alone lead to many nights of masturbating delights.
I'm not sure how I came about receiving the BDSM information. I remember the post mentioning there were classes, hands on projects, demos, a few dealer tables, an actual working dungeon, a large dinner and after that, a coming out show. I wasn't sure what all those things meant, but I did realize a golden opportunity. I answered the RSVP, and within a couple of days, received my directions to the place that would change my way of thinking for months to come.
My mystic experience began on an overcast, cool Saturday morning, driving towards the Red Moon Rising, a BDSM community cloaked in a sleepy, unsuspecting village in southwest Michigan.
The club was located out on a county road, in the middle of an apple orchard. When I drove up in my mini-van at ten a.m., there were already thirty-five cars from five different states and two out of country Providences taking up space on the lush high grassy field parking lot. Later in the afternoon, the body account would max out over seventy-five people in attendance.
The building itself was a large white 70’s style multi-level house with five different additions built on. As I approached the monstrosity, I was perplexed over the lack of an apparent entryway. A secret door? Perhaps "Open Sesame"?
From my left, behind an overgrown Rose of Sharon bush, I heard a rustle of grass and a smoker's cough. Stepping into view, was a rather pleasant, older gent, with a Grizzly Adams look to him, sporting a pair of reading glasses and a wooden walking cane.
He undressed me with his stare. Though I wanted to cover myself, I threw my shoulders back and stood proud. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Kinks are what make a person interesting.
Moments later, as if I passed a test, the old man leered at me, beckoning me to follow him on a well-worn path through the tall weeds. He led back behind the house where the entrance was hidden, between a small maze of wooden fencing and oil drums. Fifteen paces later, I was escorted into the back yard.
The back yard was huge, with a fifteen-foot privacy fence all around, a smoldering fire pit, a weathered redwood deck with multiple couches and tables on it. In one corner of the yard, sat a small pool. Off from the deck, a bubbling Jacuzzi with six people already in, teasing their genitalia with the rush of water coming from the vents. A few tents were set up for sleeping under the stars, as well as a large area for fun and games in the great outdoors.
Some of the games were already beginning, as a couple jumped out of the Jacuzzi and chased one another, their nakedness not phasing anyone.
With my hand shaking a bit excitedly upon the knob, I swung the screen door open and entered the house at basement level. As I approached the ladies at registration, I took note of the bold, red-letter sign above their heads:
That alone, told me to prepare for anything.
Once signed in and my fee for the classes paid, I glanced about, taking stock of the place. I felt a bit giddy. There was a carnival feel in the atmosphere, filled with bright sounds, electric smells and exhilarating sights.
The trill of greeting, when friends reunited, rose to meet me. The laughs, the curses, the taste of cigarette and cigar smoke, live Celtic music, strange snacks and other nibbles in naughty shapes — all served to entice the registered attendee. Dealer tables displayed an array of interesting items, knives, jewelry, leather goods and some toys I had no idea what purpose they were for until I asked... and then, I had the good decency to blush.
As a newbie, I was encouraged by several greeters to explore the club. One of the them was a Mistress who decided to take it upon herself to show me around - as long as I lead her naked, male slave by the penis. I was more than happy to, giving the shaft tugs as the handsome man moaned in compliance to follow.
We toured the huge, compound-like building. It had two classrooms set up – one upstairs, one downstairs. There was an ugly orange locker room, where two women were side by side, bent over a changing bench with their smooth, rounded asses in the air. We watched while a man slid his dick inside one wet pussy, rocked a few times, pulled out and slid in the other wet slot, rocked a few times, only to repeat himself with the first woman. The Tour Mistress walked over, introduced me to the gentleman, and we shook hands. But I doubt he would remember my name.
Past the reception area, we entered a library. Tethered to a bolt in the wooden floor was a red headed girl, no more than nineteen years old. She was dressed in a prudish 50's style and humbled her self before the Mistress and I.
The Mistress ordered her to get up. As she did, the Mistress bent the girl over a study table and pulled up her skirt, revealing a bare ass with a small, thin metal strip traveling down between her legs. Without being told, the girl spread her legs and gave a soft moan, as the Mistress brought her hand down with two, swift slaps.
Allowing the girl to rise and straighten her skirt, I was informed that the girl was an aide to the regular librarian, and it was customary to give her a few token slaps on the butt just to keep her in check. The thin metal I saw was part of a homemade chastity belt.
The Mistress then informed the aide she would be showing me what was in the library, and that she should sit in a chair, skirt hiked up, legs spread and allow a slave boy to 'wash the insides of her thighs' with his tongue. There would be no moaning and the slave was not allowed to become hard. Failure to complete the tasks while we were there would mean penalty for tonight's lock down entertainment. Both subs did as told.
I looked around the library for the first time. The room was used for reading and multi-media study. One side of the wall was nothing but a floor to ceiling, large dark bookcase. Among the shelves sat tasteful, yet erotic statues of people having sex, in every shape, size and medium. Accompanying the statues were suggestive looking candles and odd-shaped, glass blown devices I would later learn were glass dildos.
The books were neatly arranged, with topics from oral, anal, heterosexual, homosexual and group sex, fantasy sex, strange fetishes, bondage, dominance, submissiveness, knot tying, whips, taking care of equipment/toys, how to make your own dungeon, piercings, tattoos, branding, cook books, health issues, relationship issues, travel books for fetish playgrounds, camp sites and other festivals, and exotic travel.
On another wall, was a smaller bookcase, over crowed with DVDs and some old VHS tapes of sexual nature, some, I was informed, were recorded here on the premises. That is how they made money to keep up with the land taxes.
Lastly, were several older computers and security cameras. Each room in the building was watched, making sure no scene became out of control. The Mistress smiled as she grabbed her slave boy by the hair, raising him to his feet.
"That is especially important on a night of lockdown."
Further up the hall, pass the huge bathrooms, was also a DJ booth, a warped dance floor, a bar, a beautiful working dungeon (with a stage for 'coming out' shows, which I was told there would be some initiates later that evening.)
Climbing the stairs that lead to the second level, I found three alcoves set up like living rooms, six smaller bathrooms with showers only, and fifteen bedrooms, Each bedroom was equipped with two clean queen size beds, chains and tethers on the beds, bolts in the floor, hooks in the ceiling. There was no pretense of what one would do in such a room.
It was also on this floor where the 'theater' was (for live, professional performances) and two very medically sterile rooms for piercings and where 'other things' were performed...
Soon, we looped back down to the main floor, where I discovered a basement below the original basement – known as the ‘Blue Room’. (Named for the blue lamp hanging over the doorway.)
The Mistress said if that lamp was turned on, it signaled an orgy was going on downstairs.
She then excused herself and her boy, saying she had to get ready for her class. I went ahead, grabbed a plate and hit the snack buffet. I found a quite spot to sit and do what writers do best: observe my surroundings.
The variety in costumes I saw was as different as the people who wore them. The bald-headed master of ceremonies wore a black tuxedo. Beefy and handsome men wore black leather vests and pants and a few women wore Renaissance looking garments, their breasts lifted and bare under their lacings.
There were good-girl Catholic school outfits paired with frilly cotton cuffed socks and red stiletto heels, beautifully embroidered Japanese silk kimonos, long black dusters topping chain mail loin cloths or clock work, well placed tassels. I saw French ‘Can-can’ girl outfits, some in high heels and beaded corsets (including a post-op trans wearing a brilliant red leather strip with sliver stud/chains/hoops teddy.)
For role-playing times two, there was a Master Klingon definitely in control of a tethered (and tattered) Star Fleet officer, and a Vampire dressed man with a harem of three, see-through, long negligee-wearing women with frou-frou slippers on their feet. Lastly, there were a handful of people who came dressed 'Friday/work-casual’; their only tell was the collar, handcuff, or leash attached between pet and owner.
One of the first things that opened my eyes was the diversity I mingled with. I couldn't label these people as freaks, deviants, or creepy looking. The potpourri of humanity mixed, baking into a delicious recipe for fun and thrills.
There was young, old, straight, gay, lesbian, married, engaged, single, moms, dads, grandparents, bald, hairy, shaved, black, white, Oriental, Indian, fat, skinny, tall, short, gorgeous, not so attractive (to put it nicely), brazen, shy, masters, slaves, doms and subs (and to my surprise, a good portion of those submissive were men!) Another surprise was the fairly large, overweight women who had the confidence and the self-esteem to wear some of that sexy stuff.
And the best was yet to come!
(Part two coming October 2010. Contains class homework sessions.)
Thanks for sharing, George! We appreciate you blogging with us today. I can hardly wait to read how the rest of the weekend went.