Spiked Collar
Manuellabore
Had a mid, no-extras VIP (wasn't looking for any, for a change) with a mid dancer at a substandard club that happened to be on the walk between an event I was attending and my car. Dancer was decked out in what I guess was supposed to be a faux BDSM outfit including black leather (or leather-like) bra, brief, garters and a collar with 2 inch spikes, all connected with chains. Didn't do a thing for me, but I appreciate that she was trying to be sexy.
After the dance, we had the obligatory parting chit chat and she leaned down from her stiletto leather boots to give the obligatory hug. I felt what I realized was one of those spikes pressing into my neck with enough pressure to inflict discomfort. Drove home shitting myself, imagining a hard to explain puncture wound and possibly symmetrically-spaced marks from the spikes on either side. Stopped in a Wawa restroom to look in the mirror and, fortunately, saw nothing.
Still, moral of the story is, if you are at all concerned about errant marks on prominent locations on your body, steer clear of girls with spiked collars.
Now, don't get me started on the OTC session the following week when my companion's nails were clawing my back.
While I appreciate and concur with Muddy's remarks in a separate post about the unique pleasures associated with this hobby, it also can have its share of challenges and stresses for those of us on the DL [cue the violins]
After the dance, we had the obligatory parting chit chat and she leaned down from her stiletto leather boots to give the obligatory hug. I felt what I realized was one of those spikes pressing into my neck with enough pressure to inflict discomfort. Drove home shitting myself, imagining a hard to explain puncture wound and possibly symmetrically-spaced marks from the spikes on either side. Stopped in a Wawa restroom to look in the mirror and, fortunately, saw nothing.
Still, moral of the story is, if you are at all concerned about errant marks on prominent locations on your body, steer clear of girls with spiked collars.
Now, don't get me started on the OTC session the following week when my companion's nails were clawing my back.
While I appreciate and concur with Muddy's remarks in a separate post about the unique pleasures associated with this hobby, it also can have its share of challenges and stresses for those of us on the DL [cue the violins]
Comments
last commentA spiked collar makes me think of a Doberman guarding a junkyard, just like a septum ring makes me think of an angry bull.
A few years ago after attending a 4-day conference in Boston, I rented a car and drove to Providence RI for a couple of days of sampling the clubs there (my first and, so far, only time I've had the chance).
On the way, I visited Mickey's Valley View Pub and got a few dances from a young-and-charming dancer in what passes for a VIP space there. She surprised me with some light French kissing along with other fun stuff. Before I left, I did visit the restroom, but at the time it had no mirror, and I didn't really think anything of it.
When I got to Providence, I checked into my hotel room, and, glancing at my image in the mirror, I realized my mistake.
I'm an old codger with a gray (or white -- let's call it white) goatee. Except at this time, it wasn't completely white, as it carried the evidence of that light French kissing I had been engaging in earlier that afternoon with a dancer who wore bright red lipstick. The overall effect was that my facial hair was now, to a great extent, pink. I laughed as I thought about what the desk clerk was thinking when he checked me in.
I was lucky my first post-club visit that day was to a hotel and not to my home and waiting spouse.
Like I said, lesson learned.