I took today off and enjoyed Reno, NV. I dressed sexily and went clothes shopping, ate yummy stuff, played pool at the 5-Star Saloon, and generally had a sexy, grand and glorious time.
At the Saloon, I ran into a couple who were using the pool table for an impromptu spanking contest. A lovely brunette was also in their party, either more sober or with more decorum. I sat down close to them, and observed.
Less than a minute later, I was asked to join in. I raised an eyebrow and cautioned that I’m a professional Dominatrix, and asked them to confirm that they still wanted me involved. Indeed, they did.
I gave the gentleman one nice whack, aimed at the pleasure spot and just hard enough to make a guy normally want more. Perhaps I’ve lost my touch or the alcohol was affecting his reaction, because he was unimpressed. I next asked his lady companion if I might spank her too. She eagerly complied and took position. “Arch your back,” I instructed, nicely. She complied enthusiastically. Rather than the one-whack approach, I slapped her lightly again and again, several times per second, right at the pleasure spot, above the little crease between her rear thigh and butt, where this sort of thing feels most erotic. Had she rounded her back, that would have told me she disliked it. She kept her back arched, and later said something very nice to me right before she left the bar. It would seem she’d enjoyed the experience.
The pretty brunette also seemed very positive towards me, taking the seat next to me, making sparkling (and slightly risque) conversation and then giving me her business card. Since I’m bisexual and in an open relationship, this is always a lovely and welcome gesture, regardless of what happens in the future.
Being out and about was wonderful.
The pictures here are of me, taken tonight. For part of the evening, I was dressed more conservatively. The later it gets, the shorter my skirt tends to become.
I used to be so shy and self-conscious that I waited until 4 a.m., and nobody was around, before I went out in this outfit.
When I was so shy, I didn’t look like I do today, but I didn’t look hideous either. Yet, I felt horribly self-conscious.
If the “me” of today could have given advice to the “me” of two years ago, it would have been: “You look fine, and certainly good enough to go out in the world and enjoy being part of it. Yes, people can tell you’re a transgender girl. That’s OK. For some, it’s more than OK (and for some, who you learn to ignore, it’s less than OK). Don’t hide in the shadows.”
Life is a lot better, nowadays!