Date: Wed, 23 Dec 2009 03:46:45 -0800 (PST)
From: Ronald Slimman <ronslimman@yahoo.com>
Subject: Submission--My time with Randy, Part 7

My time with Randy, Part 7

Dressing for the Occasion

On the night of G.T.`s "Midsummer's Night Gala," I arrived at Randy's
apartment a few minutes before 7 pm. Randy answered the door already
dressed in his costume. He was sported out in black leather chaps, showing
enough of his muscular legs, thighs and amply exposed butt cheeks. The
fulsome bulge in the chaps at Randy's crotch gave hint of the delectable
morsel there, behind the chaps' zippered flap, being held in restraint. His
muscular torso was enhanced by a tight black leather vest. He also sported
thick, studded black leather wrist bands. Holding up his chaps was a thick
black belt studded also with those short silver spikes. A short loop of
thick silver chain hung from the belt. He also had on a black leather Greek
peasant cap. The sight of him in that get up, with his manhood bulging
magnificently set my crotch roiling pleasantly. I wanted to unzip the front
flap on his chaps and drop to my knees. Randy broke the spell by asking if
I wanted a drink.

"I'll pass," I said.

"Hey, let me show you your costume. Or shall I say lack of costume."

He then took off to one of the bedrooms and came out with a small black
leather bag and handed it to me. It contained a black dog collar with small
studs matching those on Randy's belt and a black leash for the collar,
lined also with the same studs. The bag also contained a small, black (my
favorite color) butt plug and some sort of small belted item mounting a
little red ball. There was also in the bag what looked like small black
clothes pins connected by a silver chain. Final item: a small, studded,
black leather watch band, sans watch.

"What's this for?" I asked, pulling out the item with the little red ball

"Oh that's a ball gag. Other slaves at the affair will be wearing some type
of gag as well if their masters wish it. Slaves are meant to be seen,
ordered about and not heard. Got the idea?"

I nodded that I understood, and looked again into the bag, pulling out the
linked clothes pins.

"Those are tit or nipple clamps," Randy explained. "They go on your
nipples. They take some getting use to; that's why we'll dress you up here
before we get to G.T.'s party."

I winced. "Ewwww!" I wasn`t too keen on wearing these!

Randy smiled. "You'll get use to them when they are on for a while. In
fact, some people grow to love wearing them permanently. But the tension
has to be right."

I wasn't too sure I would?

The doorbell then rang.

"That must be Lola," Randy said and went to answer.

Lola came in carrying a small, black piece of luggage. She was wearing an
old-fashioned long black leather coat that seemed a bit oversized for
her. We exchanged greetings, then she looked at her wrist watch.

"Sorry, I'm a little late guys, I better get dressed right away," she said,
taking off to one of the bedrooms with her small suitcase.

I returned to my little black bag. "What's this for?" I asked Randy,
holding up the little watchless watchband. Actually, I had a good idea of
its use.

"That's a cock strap. It's fastened behind your balls. It's put on
sufficiently snug to make sure that once a slave's cock is up, it stays
up. It can also be placed tight enough to make sure that a slave's cock
stays at rest before he gets a hard on. Have to be careful with that little
sucker though, since it interferes with the blood supply to a very vital
part of the body. Don`t want any damage down there, do we?" Randy laughed.

"Well, no prob with me Randy. With my E.D., it'll be just a decorative
ornament."

Randy just nodded. "Well, Ron, let's get you dressed for the occasion."

I stripped naked, and put on all the doo-dads. Randy, helped with the dog
or should I say `slave's' collar and with adjusting the nipple clamps. He
then stood back and observed me from head to toe.

"Hmmm, go look at yourself in the mirror he said," pointing to the
full-length mirror he had set up in one corner of the room.

I examined myself in the mirror. I was essentially barefoot and naked,
parts of my body punctuated by the adornments we put on.

Randy came over, put his arm around me, and looked approvingly at my
reflection in the mirror.

"Right, now sugar, you look absolutely edible," he commented. "We'll put
the butt-plug in you when we get there. I have a tube of lube I keep in my
car's glove compartment for those unexpected occasions that might crop up."

He then turned me toward him, his arms around me, his leather cladded body
pressed to mine, as he began to kiss me. I pressed against him, and began
kissing him back. Suddenly, there was a loud snapping sound from
behind. Startled, I turned, and there was Lola with a short black whip in
her hand. She snapped it again.

"None of that boys," she said. "We gotta get going or we'll be late."

She was dressed up in her outfit. Randy had seen it before. But I was
spellbound for the moment: Lola was dressed all in black. Her long lithe
legs were shoed in black leather hip boots with what seemed like five-or
six-inch stiletto heels. `How could she even stand in those things, much
less walk in them,' I thought. She wore tight black leather shorts, with a
prominent bulging at the front, betraying that they held back an ample
cock, but concealing hermaphroditic Lola's vagina. She had on a matching,
short open vest, the front of which was pushed aside by her enormous
bosom. From each nipple on her tits hung a silver ring from which dangled
what look like a small white facsimile of a human skull. On her right arm
was a black and white swastika arm band, like the one you see Nazi soldiers
wearing in old war movies. Lola's blonde hair flowed down from under a
black military cap with longish brim, above which was pinned a silver skull
and crossbones.

She quickly wound up the whip, stuck it next to her hip in the top of one
of her boots, then went over and looked at herself in the mirror. After
appraising herself in the glass, she turned toward us, posing with hands on
her hips.

"What do you think, boys?"

"Dazzling as always, Lola." Randy replied.

Jokingly, I turned my backside to her, and mimicked abegging tone, "Ohhh,
Lola, beat me with that whip."

She came over and sized me up and down approvingly, then put her hand under
my chin and looked into my eyes.

"Hmmm," she said, "maybe later at the party I'll get just that chance,
honey."

She then tugged gently at the chain linking my nipple clamps. Surprised, I
moaned as I was momentarily stunned by the sensuous stimuli the action sent
down to my groin. Lola then brushed her lips gently against mine, pulled
back and again rolled her eyes up and down my, for all purposes, naked
body. She then whispered in a sexy tone, "Mmmmm...This bitch would really
love making you her submissive bitch."

"Enough of the bullshit, we have to be on our way," Randy interrupted. "Oh,
one last thing."

He went into to the closet at the foyer, and took out a long coat, and bent
down and picked up a pair of casual slip-on shoes. He came over to me and
handed me the coat and shoes.

"We can't go down the elevator with Ron exposed that way. Plus he can't be
barefoot until we get there."

I put on the coat; it like the shoes was a bit to large for me, but would
serve the purpose for the time being.

"Okay, we're all ready?" Lola asked. "Then let's go. And Randy, keep within
the speed limit driving there, we don't want to be stopped by the cops on
the way. In these get-ups, we'd have a lot of explaining to do."

We all laughed, and were out the door.

This was going to be some masquerade party I thought...

Continued in Part 8...