Hello bunnies – I am returned… exhausted, but with a story to tell.
I am aware that my online presence has been wanting of late. It has a lot to do with stuff I’ve had to deal with at home and work… everything from losing my dog to getting disciplined by management. I’m at the end of my rope… and sadly not the good, kinky kind.
So, I decided to take a break from all that crappy, unpleasant adulting stuff, and decided to take time off to attend one of Mistress Hell Kitty‘s amazing play parties. This one was number 24 in a series, though unfortunately the last one at its specific location (due to change of ownership – or so was my understanding of the situation, – the dungeon needs a new venue).
I was a last minute guest.
I had been invited to the event by Mr. Wildcard eons ago. I had intended to attend, but my generosity towards my colleagues at work was taken advantage of, and I ended up scheduled on the evening of the party (a crappy 3 a.m. to 8 a.m. shift) and would have to miss out.
Then, after an awful day on the Thursday where just everything seemed to go to hell in a handbasket, I asked a colleague who owes me a favour if she could help me out. She initially accepted, and so I contacted the event organizers and got my butt on that guestlist. I needed the respite from responsibilities and keeping my shit together as much as I do.
So I was having a normal Saturday which went south very quickly. First off, I woke up late. I was supposed to be somewhere at noon. I woke up at 11:50. Then, what normally takes me a 15 minute drive on the worst of days took an hour (yes, 60 whole minutes) due to construction and stupid fucking #!@%&!!#$@%&! who don’t know how to drive. I ended up being nearly two hours late for my meeting, feeling embarrassed and enraged.
(As I would later tell my husband, traffic is the worst! I was really starting to lose my cool… I was beginning to think that ISIS could go fuck itself; if anyone is going to cause a mass bombing, it’s a person who is rage-quitting being stuck in traffic.)
Then, to make a dreadful day worse, my colleague got back to me and told me my shift was too shitty and she didn’t want to take it anymore. Apparently, I should just bite the bullet and go to work. I told her that I knew this wasn’t the deal of the century, but we had an agreement – and I had helped her countless times in the past, even when I found her shifts were not to my liking. To which the little… urgh! … did not respond for over three hours.
I honestly didn’t know at that point if I should drive myself off a cliff, or run over a pedestrian (I am using hyperbole, but I was still pretty ticked off).
The Play Party at the legendary dungeon of the glorious Mistress Hellkitty, was no longer on the table for me…
Until my colleague finally took my shift. I had the Sunday off and, thus, could freely attend Play Party #24 after all.
I was jittery and anxious. It would be my first time going to such a very “public” play party. There were only about 60 attendees; but as someone who was only familiar with Miss Pearl’s play parties (which never have more than a dozen guests), I was terrified.
Social anxieties notwithstanding, I didn’t find out I could attend the party (which started at 10 p.m.) until shortly before 9 in the evening. Panic immediately set in!
What am I going to wear?
I may have flailed while asking myself that particular question. I had no ideas, no plans, and I looked like death warmed up (no make-up, etc.).
A fetish outfit?
No good – the ones I have from my modelling days won’t fit my stupidly overgrown chesticles. Besides, I am not sure I fit in any of them anymore. Breasts notwithstanding, I no longer have the lovely figure I had when I was twenty-one.
Pretty and Sexy Lingerie?
Well… yes, sure. But again, I am having a huge brassiere shortage in my dresser. All my bras are C-cups. I have grown to a DD-E cup about three years ago, but have been too broke to properly update my undergarment collection. And god knows that ill fitting bras look awful!
A Kinky Themed Outfit?
Sure – but what?! All my costumes are in boxes. We only moved a little over a month ago! What can I possibly…?
While running through my apartment like a chicken with it’s head cut off, I stumbled on a wonderful find. In my stocking and tight drawer (yes, I have a drawer dedicated exclusively to those – and no socks are allowed in it! – thanks to my job uniform requiring new tights about two-three times a week), I found these:
There were completely untouched: unopened and unworn. I had bought them years ago (about two apartments ago), and thrown them in the back of my stocking drawer only to forget all about them. Well, it was time they came out to party too. And, given their appearance, I knew what I would dress up as:
A Circus Ring Master!
I had everything I needed. Continue reading