The city I live in has a strong alternative scene, a mixture of Industrial, Goth, Bd/Sm, and Fetish sliding around in a gender non-conforming way. Several of the older clubs have gone away, some because of management, some because of Urban Renewal. But, as it happens, the void left from a gathering space going away brings the opportunity for another to form.
The newest club is called The Crucible. It is unassuming on the outside, and full of potential on the inside. It opened New Years Eve and has been drawing in those of us who have needed it. The themes that have been used are everything from benign craft days and a few after-work workouts to full on Unseelie Masquerades. Timing was just right for myself and I went to the Masquerade.
Miss R in her Leather Demon garb.
My first time at the new club was a success, both for myself, and the club. I think I saw two people all night who did not have clothing or costuming of the fae theme, and one of those seemed to strip down as the night’s dancing progressed. The photographer was always busy, the patrons spending a pittance to have their picture recorded for the future, myself included. The music flowed, a little house, a little trip-hop, all danceable.
As I was wandering through early in the evening, looking at the well thought out amenities and the familiar newness of the place, a lace-clad woman came up to me and professed her admiration of my outfit. The leather and feathers, along with the mask and wings, entranced her. I do believe she was a bit inebriated, but I took the compliment, thanked her and moved on.
I drank my cranberry juice and water, talked a bit with people and moved onto the dance floor as the music beaconed. It was there, as the shredded lace flowed following my hands as I moved to the music, the same woman came up to me. She had been dancing for a while, both with others and by herself. She paused as she approached, and I am sure she could not see my smile from under my mask. She approached, and had a guilty smile as she motioned at me.
“Is it bad that I want to just kneel at your feet?”
Oh. That twigged so many places in my head. I did not want to take advantage of her, and yet…
I motioned to the floor and she knelt, her eyes staying on mine until she had to look down to keep from falling over. She bowed her head and I reached down to pet her head, drawing my fingernails across the back of her neck. Her hands went to my boots, fondling the leather and metal until she reached skin at my knee. She looked up again and the smile on her was delightful. I stroked her hair, lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.
I helped her get up off the floor, her small frame easy to lift and hold. Her arms wrapped around me and she kissed the side of my face, and the mask. I heard, “Thank you,” over the music before she drew away from me and went to dance more. I continued to dance where I was.
Yes. It was a good night.
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