whips and bitch tits

on reading my last pitiful post, some good mates forcibly dragged my carcass into the city to a "masquerade ball" held at a gothic nightclub.. i wore a black lace veil, black velvet half mask, gold embroidered corset and lots of red, gold and black velvet garments and jewellery picked from about ten of my old stage costumes and thrown together at the last minute like some satanic omelette.. upon my arrival to the pre party drinks at mick's place i found sigmund also wearing devilled eggs, weirdly enough matching my color scheme and era style perfectly. he had a tricorn hat with a red,black and gold harlequin mask, long jacket and red chiffon scarf.. we were tres eyes wide shut, very venetian carnivale.. fuck we looked gay. and didn't the hoardes of drunk, redneck soccer fans infesting the city that same night let us know it- as we navigated our way through the city to the club. jen and mick were also present in goth form, although not QUITE as gay looking, together we all managed to look.. well... pretty gay.. theatrical even. the club was full of utter dicks dressed up like bondage sooks, in deadly serious posing mode, trying to look all composed and broody before inebriation set in, so it felt good to be amongst my own. after prancing around sadly for an hour, the mood began to lift and i spied sigmund talking to a very pretty girl in a huge be-chained steel collar and latex corset dress, near the whipping posts.. the next thing i see is sigmund being handcuffed, shirtless to said posts, and the hot chick caressing him with one hand and holding a flail in the other which, (after a crowd had gathered) she craftily passed on to a repulsively fat, old, bondage leather wearing hobo dude.. who promptly began to whip sig before he had time to say: "oi - that's just not cricket"......i was in tears, i think i peed a little, i nearly split my corset sobbing with laughter, as his back reddened and the lashes got a little louder, the lard ass homo prison sex gimp dude passed the flail onto ANOTHER leather clad old age pensioner pervert named snake.. this one was skinny- so probably had aids from being an anal ass master in the eighties. by this stage i was just in disbelief.. honestly if it had gotten any fucken sorrier i would have been the first case of death by escalated cacking in a highly restrictive garment. my imagination just made it worse.. i kept wondering if sig had an erection .....a total MOUNTAIN of wrong.. the boner of shame... the sexy girl DID give him a bit of a flog in the end but after such a huge cack, it was kind of anticlimactic. for me anyway. sig told me later that the guys asked him if he wanted his friends to have a go at beating him.. but he said no... fuckin pussy.. as if i could've done any lasting damage from the confines of my get-up. sigh. the support band were jazzy and mediocre, but the bass player was wearin budgie smugglers and fishnets and the trumpeteer had his lunch packed in black rubber trunks with suspender stockings so atleast they were amusing to look at.. come to think of it.. it was like a festival celebrating the rubber underpant in there. at one stage i caught myself thinking how weird it was that so many people had all forgotten to wear their trousers. one word, niggers : WINTER...