a sort of anniversary gift

Some of the women in the Lobby undressed nonchalantly, others made a show of it, to cheers and claps. Perhaps the latter did it for some psychological reason or another: facing fears, being exhibitionists (or at least more of such than the other naked women), seeing how they affected men.

Others were slow, timid, and required encouragement from others. Yet another one was in tears, and she too immediately got sympathy, which helped in her undressing. Her companion dried her tears, he hugged her, and then she, her man, and her friends walked, arms around waists.

Sometimes, particularly in the past, some women would leave the lobby before completely stripping.

Nonetheless, unless they got a dispensation from the membership, the Nudity Enforcement Committee, or Nudity Enforcement Officer—and such were rare and the dispensations given were for minor things on otherwise naked bodies, they had to be naked if they wanted to enter the Inside Corridor. Most eventually did, even those who at first left before completely stripping all their clothes.

During this time not all but several other women were putting on their collars, leashes, gags, blindfolds, and/or other restraints, or such were being put on them. About a fourth to a third of the women wore fetish stuff.

One of the men was tearing clothes off one of the women, reenacting the ripping-her-shirt-open-from-behind-her act, with braless tits flying out. Likely because of strategic cuts in her clothes and his strong forceful moves, he quickly ripped off the rest of her clothes, with loud ripping and tearing sounds. In less than a minute she stood naked before him.

Among other rooms and sections in the Inner Lobby was an entry that lead to a walled enclosure of about 3 by 5 meters, without a ceiling, where there was a fireplace and grill where some of the dramatic could burn clothes: if they were women, they could burn their own; or if others (usually men) tear or cut the clothes off their women and burn such clothes. The fire wasn’t on all the time, but a bottle of 95% ethanol (with expellserant mixed in) was available that they could use to douse the clothes before setting alight. Another option was to ask the valet if he/she could have such clothes shredded and he/she’d return in a few minutes with the clothes, belts, and shoes the woman, or women, wore: all shredded in a paper bag served in a basket.

The man, and woman he stripped, embraced: her arms around the neck of her conqueror, his hands cupping her now bare buttocks, and engaged in a passionate kiss. She might have jumped up and wrapped her legs around him, but they were already pushing the rules a bit.

Next he put a collar on her, attached a leash to it, and locked both.

She looked at him, beaming.

“I love you master.” referring to herself in the first person.

“You please me, my little sow.” (It was unlikely she was 2/3rds his mass—she was far from fat or even ectomorphic.)

She smiled, as if it was a great compliment.

She embraced her “master” again, lovingly, rubbing her face on his upper chest and neck. Another kiss. Then a smack on the ass.

“Oww!” she squealed.

“Let’s go, sow! We’re going to have lots of fun!”

“Yes master.” she smiled.

They entered the Inside Corridor of the CMNF area.

She walked with a spring in her step—the leash was about 2, maybe 2½, meters long, somewhat overtaking a line of seven chained women.

Six of these women were gagged, blindfolded, had wrist and ankle cuffs, and iron collars. Their collars were chained together in a line. Each had an ankle cuff chained to her other ankle cuff, and the chain was attached to a long chain. Between each of their legs was a shared log suspended just below their groins and buttocks. Each had her hands behind her, a rope went from one cuff, then under the log, to the other cuff. With these, each woman, and the other five women similarly cuffed and tied, supported and carried the log.

The diameter of the log was wide enough to cause the women to walk a bit bow-legged, and the ropes were just long enough to not be too tight, but short enough so the log would occasionally touch their genitalia; and if the coordinated walking wasn’t hard enough, they were also occasionally switched by a man who instructed them.

Between the third and fourth women, a seventh woman sat astride the log, each of her hands holding, and somewhat tied to, a handle-of-sorts that protruded from each side of the log, to stabilize herself. Her ankles were in cuffs, a 50 cm length of thick rope was over the log, each end tied to an ankle cuff, keeping her feet off the ground. Taped to the log where her crotch often bumped, or rested on, was a vibrator. It might or might not have been vibrating much, but the humming was loud enough for many to hear.

She looked about 15 years older than the six women (probably in her early-to-mid 40s) and more petite—thus being a lighter burden. In addition to the ankle cuffs, iron collar, and gag, she wore a leash, though no blindfolds nor chains.

The eleven, and the couple, later found out that she was the man’s wife and that this was some a sort of anniversary gift.

“Wow, she’s so lucky!” the “sow” exclaimed.

The man, his lucky wife, and the six sex workers he hired, all walked past two women who were somewhat leaning against each other as well as the wall, who looked at them with a little critical interest. They wore chains too, but the non-BDSM type: gold chains and similar jewelry. One had gold glitter glued to her nipples and areolas. One looked a bit like a young Bette Davis.

“Have a good time, ladies.” said one quietly, eyes rolling a bit.

“You tried S&M once.” said the other to the first lady.

“Once.”

“You liked it?”

“He did. I was mostly glad when it was over.”

“Yeah, but that guy—I think I know whom you’re talking about—was an arsehole—good thing you dropped him.”

“The spanking was tolerable, but he wanted me to eat a cupcake that he came on.”

The other eye-rolled. “Men.”

The man who was with them chimed in, “A terrible waste of semen if you ahsk me. If you gulls want a few smacks on the arses, I’d merrily indulge you.”

“Why thank you, Chahles,” said the other, “though I like to be hands-free.”

“Sure.”

“But not now.”

“You can give us both spankings, Chahles.” said the other, “then we can have a threesome, or moresome—if you have the stamina, Chahles.”

“You give me stamina, my lovelies.”