Walking Naked & Collared with Andre

"Let's go upstairs, slut," Andre says, neatly packing the floggers in the trim black suitcase after he's helped me off the St. Andrew's cross in the crowded dungeon. Around us are dozens of playing perverts--a red-headed domme and her Asian boy, bound in rope and shackled; a lithe blonde chained to a post, being flogged by what has to be her high-tech Dom; a slight woman in a bright pink dress punching a tall, sallow man with a shaven head in the chest and a heavy set submissive woman bent over and being paddled by her tall, long-haired Dom.

We're in the Dungeon--an S&M club near our town--and this is my first play party, my first time stripped and hung on a cross in a place where we paid to get in, and I've just been spanked, whipped, flogged and paddled right into sub-space by Andre.

"Keep your collar on," he says, gripping my elbow and I flinch--because I am not wearing any clothes.

"Can I put my dress on, please?" I say.

His eyes turn cold. "No."

"Can I put on my shoes, please?"

He nods. "Okay."

I put the black high heels on, wondering how I've made the leap from never playing in public to walking around a sex club with my Dom, undressed for the world to ogle.

Tossing my hair at him, I smile. "I love how I can abdicate the choice to naked to you," I tease. "This way I can pretend I have no responsibility for my exhibitionistic streak."

"I know that," he responds, and as I wish we'd brought the leash, he takes me by the elbow and we begin to make our way through the crowded room.

"Oh, one second," he says, and takes off his own clothes, so except for a jacket, he too is naked.

We go through the dungeon and up the stairs to the more public room; he makes me wait in the hall while he goes in the bathroom and washes his hands.

The crowd is more casual here--and more dressed--Curious eyes light on me and men smile but I am busy telling myself tough it out. Soon, Andre returns and says, "We can go downstairs now. You can put your dress on."

"Okay," and follow him back down, down past the couple with the violet wand and the Tens machine, past the Dom doing an elegant Florentine on a woman's back, past the violent joy of a threesome in a medical scene.

When we get back in the corner, our spot is already taken, the suitcase moved aside to make room for a tall redhead and her partner to huddle in a death and another submissive chained to the cross who looks up with sad eyes as we sidle past.

Soon I am no longer naked, the little black dress fitted tightly around my breasts and thighs, the corset, fishnets and earrings still stuffed in the big black bag, but I am left with the image of myself following Andre through the crowd, standing beside him in collar, restraints and heels, and I move quietly beside him and remember how erotic it was, so teasing and how I felt so goddamned hot.