SomersTownLisa

London Life
2022-04-27 14:46:05 (UTC)

Torture Garden

As usual I took too long getting ready for the fetish club at Islington, and got there about 12:40, though my ticket was for anytime after 12:00 (and they normally let you in if you get there a bit early). As soon as I got in, I saw a girl who’d got up on the stage and was gyrating happily wearing just nipple covers and a thong, while another was in a tiny shiny red bra and knickers; she greeted the other girl with the standard stroke of her bum – it’s like a handshake in these places. Meanwhile a lesbian couple were snogging on the floor. Sonia, arrived two weeks ago form the USA started talking to me, and I was speaking to her for a while, complimenting her on her shiny black outfit without realising at first she was sitting with her boobs fully on show. A nice pair they were as well. Her boyfriend was quite old and rugged.

I saw a couple of entertainers: a couple of dancers, followed by a girl being partially stripped by another girl and then hanging up by a string wearing thong shorts and a string bra which didn’t cover her nipples. In the audience I would say more were topless girls than ever before, and there are now more very narrow-fronted knickers, which I thought was slacking previously. Nearly all the girls had nice slim bodies. A majority of them were wearing thongs, many with fishnets. I sat upstairs for a bit although the proportion of men was too high there. They all look gay in their leather outfits though most are with girls. Different girls I spoke to liked my little sparkly cardy, my cap and my sideless shiny dress. One girl at the bar even bought me a Red Stripe after I ordered a Red Bull by accident, then walked off with her boyfriend.

About half past five I walked down the stairs and found the ground floor nearly empty – a group I spoke to agreed that “late entry” tickets weren’t really getting their money’s worth. As the entrance area was now closed, I went outside to ask the staff whether they’d found a bag I’d left (deliberately) under a table. A lady went to look, and I enjoyed waiting outside the venue in my sex-outfit.

I didn’t get to bed until about seven, but woke up at 10:10. I was hung over and found it hard to sort myself out but I’d told Jack I’d go and see him at his Dad’s house. I even bought the ticket when already on the train. I ran to the house, where his Dad kept asking when we would see his wife in hospital, even though he was there when she died yesterday and said he couldn’t live without her. I went out with Jack to take the dog for a walk, and he told me his mum would have died by Sunday if she hadn’t gone to hospital, because of her bowel problem. She hadn’t wanted to go to hospital because she had to look after Jack’s dad.

When we got back to the house, he’d stopped asking to go to the hospital, possibly because he’d got four of his children there, plus four nephews and nieces, and four girlfriends/husbands of all those. We read out weak jokes and everyone was happy for a while. Back at King’s Cross, two Network Rail men kept trying to tell me I’d not locked my bike properly, because only the wheel was locked at the back, but the truth was the frame was locked at the front wheel. They even ran after us as we were cycling home. I’d got cold, as I was so disorganised this morning I hadn’t taken a jacket or jumper, only my running clothes. I need to learn.

Sx drss, o/k h/h stillts, stckngs / run shrt, shrts.




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