There was an image I came across recently, that captured my imagination for more than a fleeting second. It pulled me in, and has kept my mind there for a few days, as I look at the people in it, and try to place myself there and understand what the draw is.
scene -
Another fetish night, another fascinating time to be present and enjoy the sights and sounds around me. Every body type, every orientation and kink represented. The BDSM sections prove the most popular in participants and spectators, but the dance floor is occupied by the more energetic tweakers, and the bar suitably being held up by patrons.
In a way, I felt out of place, as I took the cheap way out and just wore black. I didn't own any fetish gear, and generally feel silly playing the roles outside of the bedroom. But I appreciated the boldness of those who did. I had come by myself, paid for my ticket and had opted to wallflower for a bit, trying to decide what I was looking for tonight.
At 6ft 2in, 190lbs with a shaven head - I may have had a default presence of intimidation about me, which, truth be told, I'd used on more than a few occasions in play. I never truly felt big unless I had a tiny female at my hand, or a twink underneath me, and man was that always fun. I sipped at my drink while pondering just that scenario, and spied a short haired pixie across the room.
She was petite, and wearing a strapless black mini-dress with black leather boots. Her hair dark with highlights, and her make-up fairly low key for the gathering. She acknowledged me from a distance, and I nodded back at her. Moving through the crowd, further away from me, she kept making eye contact, as if to beckon me along. In a venue of risky pleasures, I went with it, and began to make my way to the corner of crowded room. I pushed past a group of out-of-place cougars and their one gay friend, and found the object of my affection standing there smiling with a leash in her hand.
On the other end of the leash was a young man, just college age, with a gangly mop of brown hair on his head, wearing nothing but a slash of facepaint. Admittedly, I was a bit taken back at first.
Her "boy" was almost cherub-like, slightly frightened looking, but with a hint of darkness behind his eyeliner. He was skinny, and pale, with pink nipples, and relatively hairless except for a thicket of pubic hair about his softened penis. The leather collar around his neck was studded, and along with his nudity made it clear who was the boss. In fact, he was actually an inch or two shorter than his Domme.
Her name was Min, and she broke the ice with a little small talk, but seemed to revel in my unsettled response to her reveal. Though I was still very much attracted to her, and made my best effort to appear interested in our conversation, I would frequently dart my eyes over to her "boy" here and there to try and pull him in.
Admittedly, I was sort of taken by him. He had a look of innocence and fragility that belied his naked state and status, and my mind invented an array of scenarios wherein I would cover his tiny body with mine, and either give him pure love, or sheer pleasure. The basic novelty of bouncing him off my dick for the night took greater hold in my brain though.
Maybe his Domme would enjoy that, maybe I could be his punishment for something. I smiled at that,
