Out at the Festival

Millicent finally got tired of listening to us whine about our outfits, so she sent us out to mingle.

Heads turned and wolf whistles sounded as we made our way around the festival grounds. The festival patrons weren’t subtle as they stared at us. Because our outfits played directly to several fetishes, we each received an equal amount of attention. Even John was getting a number of appreciative looks.

I tried to act nonchalant, but dammit, I was practically naked! Walking barefoot over the grounds was certainly a different experience as well. Granted, the latex provided protection for my soles and kept my feet from getting dirty, but the thin covering wasn’t enough to shield my feet from feeling the contour of the ground as I walked. It was an unusual sensation.

“Hey, nice look!” said one guy, sliding a hand over my ass.

I opened my mouth to tell him to get his hand off my ass, but found myself giggling and wriggling my hips.

Tara snickered as the guy walked off. I glared at her, then said, “Hey, Tara...go team!”

“Whoo!” said Tara, shaking her pom-poms and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Yay, team! Go go go!”

Then she froze, her jaw tightening as she glared back at me.

“Very funny!” she said, teeth clenched.

“I thought so,” I said.

There were tents and stands everywhere, catering to every fetish. One tent was a bondage furniture showroom, with several models strapped into various devices. Nearby, several cages held imprisoned girls, who made a show of whimpering to passers-by. Another display featured a dominatrix tending to several diapered women, each with their thumb in their mouth. A tattooist was busy applying a block-lettered “SLUT” to the bottom of a collared young woman while his assistant pierced the scrotum of an orange-haired young man. Yet another display had a band of transvestites singing movie soundtracks with accompanying dance steps. A long line waited at the tent where the foot models lay back in comfortable chairs, waiting for customers to worship their feet.

Initially the stands catered to the more traditional fetishes, but the deeper we got into the festival, the more intense the magical aura became.

“This place is seriously strange,” said Alice. “Do we have to go this far in?”

“Yes,” I said. “This is the area we’re supposed to walk through until the demonstration begins.”

The strangeness continued. Wandering entertainers were everywhere. A mime juggled Ben Wa balls while a nearby vendor hawked rare aphrodisiacs. A man standing in front of a tent offered passing women a chance to score with the most sensuous tentacles to be found in Chrystal Heights. A man masturbated into a woman’s hair, then shaved her head. A madam ran a booth of blowup dolls, offered at low quarter-hour rates to work off excess arousal. Male dolls, female dolls and others, depending on taste.

“C’mon,” I said. “Let’s head for the demonstration tent. This place is weird.”

Everyone agreed, but as we started in that direction, several women dressed as fairies approached us, led by a dwarf dressed head-to-toe in skin-tight leather.

“Salutations, nymphs!” said the dwarf, smiling. The fairies circled around us, giggling. “I and my fetish fairies greet you!”

“Yeah?” said Tara. “Why don’t you and your little bimbos take it somewhere else?”

Bit snickered. “You said ‘little’,” she said, looking at the dwarf.

“Ahh, ladies,” said the dwarf. “You injure me! Truly, your words cut.”

“I’m sorry,” said Tara. “Did I hurt your little feelings?”

Bit laughed louder. “You said ‘little’ again!”

John and I laughed this time, and even Alice giggled. It was kinda funny, after all. Obnoxious, yeah, but still funny.

The five fairies circled around us, their bare feet pattering the ground. They were chanting in sync in their high-pitched voices.

The dwarf bowed low. “Of course we shall go,” he said. He turned to the fairies. “Let us be off, my aphrodites.”

The chanting, twittering fairies reached a crescendo and suddenly they doused us with handfuls of glitter. Then they followed after the dwarf, pattering away on bare feet.