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* * *
I strutted across the brightly lighted arena, hearing the
crowd murmur as Lasha, the Whip Woman, stood by Kyoko's rack of
carefully measured, meticulously arranged whips and eyed me
carefully.
And I was quite an eyeful!. For starters, there was a leather
hood over my head that laced tightly, outlining my features and
form fitting my skull, allowing just two slits for the eyes and a
small black mesh near the mouth for breathing. Below this, I wore
a specially designed black leather blouse, one that lifted and
emphasized my proud breasts while totally concealing them, and
nipped in my waist delightfully.
Below this was my skirt, also of black leather, ruffled and
flaring playfully out from my legs so that it covered me only down
to about mid-thigh.
Then there were the thigh length black leather boots,
bizarrely high heeled and laced all the way up my shapely legs, a
perfect match for the tight, shoulder length black leather gloves
that fit my arm like a second skin. I was a swaying, strutting,
inky dream in black leather, and the crowd gasped in anticipation
as I carried my tray of drinks across the arena, on a course that
would cut directly in front of Lasha, standing ready only twenty
feet away.
*
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