Almost ready to go. She’s putting the final touches on my hair and makeup. He’s lacing me into a black underbust corset. My tiny tutu only reinforcing how exposed I am. A mini top hat that matches my collar and cuffs.
My hair curled. Made up like a harlequin doll. My nipples stained to match my dark lips. Black ballet boots and thigh high socks with pretty little ruffles. Delicate chains attached to each cuff.
Each takes an arm and guides me to the car. Heels so high I’m as wobbly as a drunk baby deer. The ride is to short and we arrive to soon. Helped out of the car we approach the venue. This time the support is as emotional as physical.
A kiss on the forehead as we pause to open the door. “No tears tonight, you don’t want to ruin your pretty makeup”, is whispered in my ear.
As we enter, curious eyes turn to see who has arrived. So many people! And the majority fully clothed. I’m led inside, stopped and turned to face into the room. I’m not sure what’s happening next, but I think I would feel better not watching.