maeven

Well, one night sticks out in my mind, in that fuzzy, sparkly, soft-focus kind of way that you remember good things in, with more than a little nostalgic enhancement.

But that's OK!

It was a play dungeon, but the night's theme was "purity." So, instead of the usual black leather and latex suspects, and pointy studs and evil things, there was white fluffiness. It really made such a refreshing atmosphere-- everything felt open, alive, clear. Lots of very cute white panties cut extremely low. I think of Sigourney Weaver in the last scene in Alien. But maybe that's just me.

Sugary angel wings. Bare toes in brown leather sandals. Lots of blond cuteness, wet lips and curious glances. But, this is a dungeon we are talking about, so these are *tortured* angels. Bare toes locked up in iron cages. Blond innocence bound up tightly by sadistic masters, toying with their prey.

There were two girls playing with saran wrap in the back of the room. One was wrapping the other, she was laid out on her back, with her hands at her sides, very tightly wound up, a tight little lesbian cigar. The other girl was having fun layering different colors. There were many, many layers, things were getting pretty thick. No way you are getting out of that on your own. And here you are, in a seedy basement of a club, with a throng of greasy, dripping onlookers.

I turned my attention to the side room, the biohazard room, the needle room. Dirty, nonfunctioning sinks and examining tables and chairs. A girl was getting a pierced design all over her pale, soft back, something to do with astrology. The sad, reddened flesh surrounding each needle makes me feel uneasy.

Turning around, I'm treated to a huge feeling of relief watching the thankful girl being torn out of the colored saran wrap. She was moist and soft and hot, and very relieved to be out of there, breathing slowly and deliberately. Her playmate was stroking her hair lovingly and cooing.

One of my favorite visions (prehaps of all time) was a pale, slender blond girl, in the aforementioned perfect, seamless white panties cut low, strapped to some wooden apparatus, with her perfect boobs being perfectly tortured. Now, I'm not one to go on about boobs, but these were just that magnificent. And the clever captor took each one in turn, pinching the nipple ever so softly. He would lift each just slightly, to get at the tender, vulnerable underside. One perfect, pale pink nipple, one tender lift, and one sharp whack with a beautiful, brown riding crop. Thwack! Such beauty. Lift and repeat. Such tender care to each breast. An occasional slap to wandering, shifting hips. Long, soft moans...