marielmia

Mariel is MIA
2020-08-14 07:31:34 (UTC)

Leaving Mark(s) Part 2

I was saying, the men in my life have always tended to the dominant side. Maybe my father's influence on me that i seek out the aggressive and demanding male? Anyway, common to all of them was this need to mark me in some way. For one, it was just having to be there if another guy was paying attention to me. To another, it was that tattoo. At least none of them needed...well let's skip that one.


When i first started dating Mark (that's M's name, btw) but after we established his dominance between us, he's take me to his club. I've described it before, but let's just say members were like minded and exclusively in M's tax bracket. I quickly adapted to the clubs rules and rituals and found it exhilarating. Though we never had sex there, many of the other couples did. Voyeurism was not discouraged.

On entry, there was a room for "Discalcing" as they called it- the removal of footwear as well as changing into this pale blue paper fabric dress. No adornments. Very plain, like assembly line plain. . It set the tone for the ladies- loss of shoes symbolized loss of ability to gather, in caveman terms. The single paper dress, soft enough against the skin to feel feminine, but the sameness and plainness de-individualized us all. Nothing underneath to allow you to feel you had something of your own. You can see the ritualistic nature here. And this night was to be my first glimpse of these like minded men and their needs for marking.

Now mind you, everything that went on at this place was consensual. Permission was asked every steep of the way. For me, M never asked me to participate for an audience. We would just recreate things at home afterwards. The flame between us was plenty hot enough to be reserved. But on this night, one of the women was to offer a deeper submission to her man. She was maybe early 40's, in good shape, clearly fake boobs, but i could def see why she could be offering to one of the members here. Unlike me, who i just felt out of place among these elite New Yorker's.

M volunteered me to be her maid, which he basically told me was to help her ready herself for her ceremony. My only condition was to be absolutely silent. No communication with her. Ok. Whatever. So while about 20 or so people milled around, the two of us went off to this smallish bathroom, with a vanity and tub and toilet, to ready her for her ceremony. Once the door was closed, i asked her what was she going to do. She gave me this look, pointing to cameras so i figured, shut up cause someone was watching or listening. She took off her paper gown and i let in the tub. There was a lavender ball that fizzed. Smelled pretty good and she got in. It was all kinda surreal. I mean rich people do shit that normal folks don't ever think of, at least i didn't. I had no clue. So this bell rings and she gets out, dries off and puts on a similar paper dress, though white, not blueish like mine. She pinned her hair up and there was a knock at the door, a male voice asking if she was ready. She was and single file, me, the girl and the door knocker turned the corner to go to the main room.

The room was transformed in our absence. Everyone was behind these large lights, so i couldn't make anyone out. The front of the room had an exam table like you find in a doctors office. There was this tall man, i had seen before, waiting by the table. He wasn't her man The knocker man motioned me to sit down behind the lights so i found my way to M, seated like everyone else.

i think this might be too weird for some here, so i'm stopping. I'm at work anyways. If the entry disappears, you'll know i had second thoughts. Apologies.
mariel




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