Contortion

In Memory of Diane, my soulmate, who sadly passed away after her fight with cancer and is sadly missed. I hope in leaving this legacy to your readers that they can appreciate how much fun we had in acting out these fantasies. The audience clapped as Diane and master walked on stage for their performance of a lifetime. Master in his usual black cloak with red lining and Diane in her bright red shiny costume with her fishnet stockings. The costume was low cut at the back and left little to the imagination as it hugged her contours tightly. The crotch pulling the stockings in between her legs so tightly, the seam almost ran up her crack which was already beginning to glisten with her juices. The show had not even begun but yet Diane was tingling all over with anticipation at what was to come. Master stood at one side while she strutted about the stage doing her stretching exercises. Then he placed the plastic jar centre stage ready for her. Diane positioned herself along side the jar and lowered herself down on one leg, the knee bent while her other leg stuck out in front of her. ...

Part 1: Josephine and the Wishbone Whenever I visit my brother Richard in the West Country he takes me to a theatre/dining club. Yes, I know they’re a long way from London, but they do have night clubs down there. Let me tell you about one Friday when we visited the Erotic Magic Club in Exeter. The first half of the evening’s entertainment was fairly standard stuff. It started with a sort of dance/strip show with all eight girls, then each one had a solo set, so that one did a few extreme backbends and then folded herself into a tiny perspex box, one did a sword swallowing and fire-breathing act and so on – all either nude or in the tiniest, tightest clothing. The first half finished with another ensemble dance piece and then, during the interval, the girls wandered round the audience chatting to the exclusively male clientelle. By this time all the girls were wearing very tight, very short leather shorts and matching high heels and nothing else, the kind of shorts I refer to as Daisy Dukes but which my brother insists on calling Hot Pants. One was in black, one in pink, one in blue and so on, eight identical topless outfits in eight different colours. ...