LADIES IN LEATHER GLOVES

The Club

It was Saturday afternoon in late October of 1962.  For Bobby Tidwald, it was another of those days that could only be described as wasted space in his life.  He had just gotten off work at the newspaper where he labored as an apprentice pressman.  Listless and bored, he wandered the city streets with no sense of direction or purpose.  The late afternoon sky, streaked with ragged steel-blue clouds, had the look of approaching winter.  A cool, invigorating wind seemed to direct Bobby's steps down a Main Street alley to a small magazine shop.  Bobby entered the shop and went through a door at the back.  He knew this section of the store well.  It was the porno section.  Bobby heard the wind whistling outside and smelled the familiar odour of the store owner's cigar as it occasionally wafted through the store. 

Bobby bypassed the standard porno mags.  The best stuff was arrayed along the back wall.  Bobby felt his heart rate quicken when he noticed that a new shipment of magazines from his favourite publisher, Selbee, had arrived.  All his favourite titles were in:  'High Heels', 'Satana', 'She Who Must Be Obeyed', 'Fetishique' and Bobby's absolute favourite, 'Whip and Glove'.  With trembling hands, Bobby picked up the new issue of 'Whip and Glove'.  He opened the cover and thrilled to see a photo of a beautiful young woman sitting on a couch above a male lying on his back on the floor at her feet.  Leaning forward over the abject male, the woman had inserted two of her black leather-sheathed fingers at either corner of his mouth to stretch it open as wide as she could so that she could cram the stiletto heel of her gleaming black fashion boot into his mouth.  The rest of the photo article showed the beautiful woman removing one of her long skin tight kidskin gloves and using it to whip the pathetic male's cock and balls.  The male appeared to be screaming out in a combination of pleasure and agony that were one and the same.  Bobby purchased the magazine plus four others and left the store. 

As he walked up the street to the garage where his car was parked, he wondered why it is that the most intense pleasure always seems to go 'hand in glove' with the most soul-rending agony and humiliation.  His thoughts went back to a time about five years ago when he was three years out of high school and worked as a receiving clerk at a wholesale art supply store.  On a balmy spring day, he had left work early to lunch at a sidewalk café in the fashionable part of town.  Sitting at a sidewalk table, he had heard a pair of high heels clicking on the pavement.   Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name.

Before even looking up, he knew who it was.  It was Sally Robbins, a classmate who used to help him with his math homework in high school.  Bobby had always felt comfortable with Sally because she was sort of plain and unpretentious - kind of like the girl next door.  But, when Bobby glanced up, he saw a most striking young blonde standing before him.  It was Sally, all right, but Bobby could hardly believe his eyes!  Her blue eyes glanced at him as the wind blew her blonde tresses partially across her face.  Bobby's heart pounded - she was wearing lipstick and mascara.  But what nearly gave Bobby a heart attack was her clothing.  Sally had on a tight, seductive pair of gleaming black leather pants and fashion boots with
stiletto heels.  She was wearing a silky white blouse with a brightly colored silk scarf.  What really sent Bobby's heart leaping into his throat, though, was what Sally had on her hands: softly gleaming skin tight black leather gloves!  Sally's gloves were wrist length, and she wore them slightly turned up at her wrists so that Bobby could see that they were unlined. 

"Bobby. Bobby are you okay?  It's me - Sally Robbins!  Mind if I join you?"

Perspiration dampened Bobby's forehead as he stammered, "S-S-S-Sure!  Please, sit down!  I almost didn't recognize you at first."

Sitting down, Sally replied, "I guess I look a little different from the way I used to when I lived at home.  You're looking good.  How have you been?"

Bobby almost passed out as he felt Sally briefly place a soft, warm, leather-gloved hand on the back of his.  Sally said, "I'm sorry - you don't mind my glove, do you?"
 
Bobby's pecker almost came unassisted in his pants.  He was afraid that it would start thumping against the underside of the table.  He was also aware that his trousers were probably getting a bit wet in the crotch.  He blurted, "Not at all!  I love.  I mean I like your - you know - your."  He found that he was too flustered and self-conscious to say the word gloves.       

Bobby knew that Sally was now a junior at college.  He couldn't bring himself to tell her that he was a receiving clerk for a wholesale art supplier, so he spent most of the conversation reminiscing about their old high school days.  After about ten minutes, Sally got up to leave.  She told Bobby what a pleasure it was to run into him and hoped that life continued to treat him well.  As she walked off down the sidewalk, Bobby couldn't take his eyes off her leather-sheathed hands.  He thought to himself, "That bitch!  Who does she think she is?  Wearing gloves!  Does she think she's better than everyone else?"  But suddenly he realized how irrational and unfair his thoughts were.  Sally had been a good friend in high school, and she still was.  Why hadn't he asked her if she would join him for dinner and a movie?  But the opportunity had passed.  Sally had disappeared into the crowd.  Bobby quickly paid his check.  He felt the urgent need to get home and masturbate. 

Bobby's mind snapped back to the present.  His encounter with Sally had been five years ago, but there were still moments when he almost wanted to cry over the lost opportunity.  Suddenly, Bobby realized that he had left the garage and been driving through a strange part of town without paying much attention to where he had been going.  He had looked forward to a night alone with his porno mags, but now he realized that he was lost at night in the city.  He pulled his car to the curb and got out. 

 

He was in an old warehouse district near the river.  Part of this area had been recently renovated by wealthy developers who had converted the old warehouses into townhouses, apartments and stylish shops.  Still, every here and there, Bobby noticed an old derelict or panhandler at an alleyway or crossing the street.  Bobby also noticed a few nightclubs up and down the street.  He thought he could ask for directions at one.  As he strolled up the sidewalk, he heard the clicking of a woman's heels on the pavement behind him.  He deliberately slowed his pace to let her pass.  The woman who passed him had dark auburn hair that fell in tresses over her shoulders, which were luxuriously clad in a short, light-reddish-brown fur coat.  Bobby immediately glanced down at her hips, which were sheathed in a gleaming,
hip-hugging black leather skirt that was slit up one side to nearly the top of her hip.  The skirt was just slightly longer than a miniskirt.  Bobby also noted that the clicking sound on the pavement was made by the stiletto heels of her knee-high black leather boots.  Bobby immediately felt a rush of excitement surge through his veins.  He realized that he could ask her for directions!  He picked up his pace to catch up with her. 

"Pardon me, Miss, Miss." he called out.

The woman abruptly stopped and turned to face him.  Bobby almost walked right into her.  With a contemptuous look at Bobby, the woman said in a calm, quiet voice, "I'm not carrying any money, and I'm holding a gun on you in my pocket."  Bobby immediately glanced at where her hand was inserted into a pocket of her fur coat.  He noticed what appeared to be the outline of a short gun barrel under the fur.  When Bobby glanced up at her face, he lost his breath and, for a moment, was unable to speak.  The woman had the most seductive cerulean blue eyes and sensuous scarlet red lips he had ever seen.  Her left hand was clasping the collar of her fur coat tightly around her neck in the brisk cold wind.  Bobby's gaze fell on that hand.  It
was sheathed in a skin tight black leather glove.  In the soft glow of the streetlights and neon lights from the clubs, Bobby was fixated by the sheen of the leather that sheathed each tightly wrapped finger.  What was it about a woman's leather gloves that made him feel so utterly insignificant?  He tried desperately to calm himself and steady his voice. 

"M-M-M-Miss, I'm s-s-s-sorry, I d-d-didn't mean to startle you, I'm not a panhandler, I j-just need directions.  Honestly, my car's parked just up the road back that way!" Bobby blurted.

"It's okay, it's okay." the woman replied in a soothing voice.  "I didn't mean to frighten you.  It's just that, when a strange man comes running at you from behind, you have to be prepared for anything.  You're lucky I didn't just shoot you.  Look, let's go into a club I know.  It's just around the corner.  I'll feel more at ease among friends, and we'll both be more comfortable out of the wind.  You can tell me what you're looking for when we've warmed up a little." 

Bobby could hardly believe his good fortune.  The woman seemed a little distant but willing to help him.  As if in a dream, he walked alongside the woman, fascinated by the sound of her heels clicking on the pavement.  The woman turned a corner into an alley between old warehouses.  The alley was absolutely dark.  For a moment, Bobby wondered if he had walked into a trap.  He hesitated an instant and then followed the ravishing woman up three steps to an absolutely plain door in the side of one warehouse.  As she opened the door, Bobby felt a strange tingle of excitement.  Wondering exactly what he was about to step into, he followed the fascinating creature through the door into what appeared to be nothing more than a tiny, windowless pub.  Barstools stood around a few small, circular tables.  The only other person in the pub was a bartender polishing glasses behind the bar.  The woman sat down at one of the tables, and Bobby pulled up a stool and sat next to her.  The bartender came over.  He addressed the woman as Suzy.  Suzy and Bobby both ordered beers.  When the bartender went behind the bar for the beers, Suzy called to him, "Fred, I left my handbag behind the bar when I went down to the corner store - just a precaution, you know.  Could you be a sweetheart and bring it to me?"

The bartender returned to their tables with two beers and a black leather handbag.  After he went back behind the bar, Suzy glanced at Bobby and said, "And your name is."

Bobby quickly replied, "Bobby - Bobby Tidwald."

"Bobby, I'm Suzy", said the gorgeous woman as she extended a softly gleaming, black leather-gloved hand to him.  Bobby immediately extended his own hand to shake Suzy's, but suddenly he realized that she was holding her hand up to his face not to be shaken but to be kissed!  He took her beautifully leather-sheathed hand lightly in his own trembling fingers and raised it to his lips.  The moment seemed surreal.  He brushed his lips against the middle and index fingers of her glove and drank in the deep, rich scent of expensive black kidskin.  As he finished his lingering kiss, he glanced up to see Suzy smiling knowingly at him.  Oh, my god, he thought.  Does she suspect how much she excites me?  Could she possibly know? How?  Bobby Tidwald felt his face blush a deep crimson. 

"You're very shy, aren't you?" asked Suzy.

"W-What makes you ask that?"

"Well," said Suzy, reaching into her pocket and taking out a pack of cigarettes, "a lot of guys will drool and slobber all over a woman's leather glove - maybe even start licking the fingers.  But you seem very shy about such things.  You're a real gentleman."  Bobby reached under the table to grab his throbbing pecker, which was about to tear right through his trousers.  He tried to rub it a little without Suzy noticing. 

 "I'm sorry, Bobby.  I didn't mean to embarrass you.  It's just that there probably aren't too many things that women don't know about men.  It's perfectly natural for a man to be turned on by a woman wearing tight leather, especially gloves.  You wouldn't happen to have a match, would you?" asked Suzy, holding a cigarette between two gleaming black kid-sheathed fingers.  Fearing that Suzy might notice what he was doing under the table, Bobby immediately stopped rubbing his pecker.  Besides, he realized that his pre-cum was already wetting the crotch of his pants.  

"N-No.  I d-don't smoke - I mean I do sometimes but not v-v-very often," replied Bobby.

"You know, I really don't either, Bobby.  It's just that every now and then I get in the mood for one - know what I mean?  Do you ever like to do things that you wouldn't ordinarily?  You know - just to do something different?"

Suddenly, Fred was at the table with a box of matches.  He handed them to Bobby. 

"S-Sure," said Bobby, fumbling nervously with the matches.  He struck a match and tremblingly held it up for Suzy.  To steady his hand, Suzy placed her leather-sheathed hand on the back of his and leaned forward to light her cigarette.  Again, she smiled knowingly at him as if she knew perfectly well what the caress of her leather glove on the back of his naked hand did to him.  Bobby wasn't sure that he could take much more without making a mess in his trousers.  My god, he thought, Am I ever going to have to jack off tonight! 

All the while that Bobby had been sitting there with Suzy, he had been vaguely aware of the faint sounds of laughter and occasional applause coming from not too far off - maybe from a club right next door.  "Suzy," he asked, "this isn't really a nightclub; it's more of a pub, isn't it?" 

"No, Bobby, it's a club - at least it's the entrance to a club.  The club itself is
right through the door over by the end of the bar and just down a corridor.  But I thought you just wanted to ask directions."

"N-N-No - I mean as long as we're here, why not go in and see what the club is like?" 

"Sure," said Suzy as she suggestively angled her cigarette up and down between gleaming black kidskin-sheathed fingers.  "But there is one problem.  There's a dress code for males.  You need to wear a tie to get in.  Once you're in there, you can take it off if you like, but you need it going in."  

"Fred," she called, "Do you have a spare tie Bobby could borrow for the club?" 

Fred brought a necktie to the table.  After Bobby tied it, Suzy adjusted it for him.  Twice, her gloved fingers brushed lightly against the underside of Bobby's chin. 

"Now, we're all set," said Suzy, standing up.  Bobby got up, too.  Suzy clasped Bobby's necktie just below the knot with a fisted gloved hand and led him over to the far door by the bar.  Bobby felt almost like a dog being walked.  Again, he felt a tingle of excitement as Suzy led him through the door and down a dimly lit, carpeted hallway.  The walls and ceiling of the hall were painted a deep, rich red.  The sounds of laughter, conversation and applause grew louder.  Bobby couldn't not help but notice what sounded like an occasional moan or even a scream amid the laughter.  But, even stranger, Bobby noticed that the applause all sounded somehow muffled.  Again, Bobby wondered with some trepidation what he was getting himself into. 

Suzy led Bobby into a vestibule on one side of the hall.  A male coat-check clerk behind a counter offered to take Suzy's fur.  Bobby noticed with a shock that the clerk was tethered to a ring bolted to the wall by a long leash attached to a dog collar around his neck!  He was otherwise dressed in a butler uniform.  When Bobby helped Suzy off with her fur, he almost started hyperventilating.  Suzy's leather skirt was actually a low-cut black leather evening gown slit up to one hip.  But, her gloves! 

Her gloves were full-length black kidskin leather opera gloves that went all the way up her arms to midway between her elbows and shoulders!  Bobby had only seen photos of gloves like Suzy's in porno mags.  Bobby's eyes went up and down the length of Suzy's arms, which were encased in softly gleaming, sensuous kidskin.  Suzy was smoothing out a couple of ripples that had appeared in the tight kidskin when Bobby helped her off with her coat.  Bobby also noticed that Suzy's gloves buttoned tightly at her wrists.  Through the tiny wrist openings, Bobby could make out some of Suzy's wrist and just glimpse the very bottoms of her palms.  His eyes went up to the leather fingers, which Suzy was now smoothing as she worked the kidskin to an even snugger fit between each of her own fingers.  Never in Bobby's life had he been so completely overwhelmed by the power of a woman's beauty.  His fully erect penis was jutting his pants out in a very obvious salute. 

Bobby handed Suzy's fur to the clerk, who said, "Now your things, sir."

Bobby replied, "No, thank you.  I'll hang onto my jacket."
 

"No, Bobby," said Suzy.  "If you want to go inside, you have to take off all your clothes except your tie.  That's the rule for males.  You may take your tie off, too.  But, if you do, I have to collar you.  I might decide to collar you anyway, if I want.  Women have to keep males either on a tie, a leash or a chain."  When Suzy saw the stunned look on Bobby's face, she gently caressed his cheeks and chin with soft leather-gloved hands as she whispered,  "It's alright, little guy.  Once you're inside, you don't have to do anything you don't want."  Suzy continued to caress Bobby's face, occasionally folding a leather-gloved palm over his nose.  She added, "Oh, yes, just one more thing.  Once you're inside, you must not touch your penis
without my permission.  If you feel like you're about to cum, you may request to have a bucket of ice water poured on your erection.  But you must not cum without my permission.  Because, you see, once we're inside, I own you - just like I own the boots on my feet or the gloves on my hands.  And I promise you that, if you resist cumming until I give you my permission, you'll experience greater pleasure than you ever dreamed of.  Of course, if you decide to leave, you always have that prerogative at any time."  Suzy genuinely seemed to empathize with his fears.  She seemed like a naturally caring person.  Bobby could not have resisted her for all the money on Earth.  He quickly stripped off all his clothing, including the necktie.  Suzy obtained a dog collar at the coat-check counter and put it on Bobby.  She then attached a short chain to the collar, and led Bobby into the club.

Notions of what the club might be like had been coursing through Bobby's brain all the way down the hall.  Now, he stepped into the reality.  There was so much to take in all at once.  The room was a lounge with curved walls and a stage elevated about a foot off the lounge floor.  Above and to either side of the stage were three giant television monitors.  Television monitors were also positioned at various other places throughout the lounge.  At the moment, no one was onstage.  Spread around the lounge floor were comfortable couches and plush easy chairs.  The couches and chairs were arranged in semicircular groups of three or four, which generally faced the stage.  Tiffany lamps were placed here and there on long, low coffee tables in front of the chairs and couches.  The lighting was soft but adequate.  But Bobby also noticed that there was stage lighting as well as some overhead track lights. 

All the males were naked on chains or leashes.  Only a few were seated on the couches.  Many were kneeling or sitting on carpets alongside beautiful women who were seated on the couches and chairs.  As Bobby's eyes raced from one woman to another, he realized - with thrills coursing up and down his spine - why the applause he had heard in the hall had sounded muffled.  Every woman he saw was wearing skin tight leather gloves.  Many wore opera or even shoulder length gloves but some also wore short gloves, which were often turned up at the wrist so that the soft, velvety-plush interior of the glove was evident around the lady's wrist and bottom of her palm.  All the gloves were leather and most were black, although Bobby occasionally noted some in red, brown and purple leather, as well.  All the women also wore stiletto-heeled shoes or boots.  Some women were naked except for their shoes or boots and, of course, their leather gloves.  Some, like Suzy, were dressed in very provocative evening gowns while others just wore jeans with pullovers or blouses.  Leather pants and skirts could also be seen everywhere.  Bobby took note of a sandy blonde who wore black leather pants, boots, a completely unbuttoned white blouse (that showed off her belly button) and opera-length black kidskin gloves, which reached up under her rolled-up shirtsleeves.  Bobby's heart pounded as he noticed a woman naked except for her shoes, black leather jacket and gloves.  She was leading a male from the bar back to her couch.  She was leading him not by his leash but by his erection with the gleaming black leather fingers of her glove tightly gripping his rigid shaft.

As Bobby's eager eyes continued to drink in the scene, he was startled to see that whenever a young lady was smoking, a male knelt on the carpet at her side with a cupped hand held out so that she could flick her ashes off into his palm.  Occasionally, he would hear a male whimper when his seductress crushed out her cigarette against his palm.  If a male whimpered too loud, he would often receive the sharp crack of a glove across his face.  Bobby noticed that many males had faces that were apparently red from the slap of a leather-gloved hand. 

Bobby felt dizzy with pleasure as Suzy had him sit with his back against the bottom of a couch near the front of the stage.  Suzy sat on the couch with one leg slung over Bobby's shoulder and across his chest.  Two other couches were arranged to either side of theirs with a coffee table in the middle.  Bobby's pecker thumped against his tummy when he noticed that the young lady to their right had spread out a new pair of gloves on the table to show her friends.  She told Suzy that she might take off the pair she had on and try her new ones that night. 

Suzy then did what Bobby had feared worst: she reached into her handbag and took out a cigarette.  Suzy must have felt Bobby tense with fear because she reached over his shoulder and under his chin with a warm, gloved hand and said, "Bobby, listen Bobby - it'll be okay.  And it's okay to cry a little, if you have to.  You want me to have a good time, don't you?"  Tears quietly started to stream down Bobby's cheeks as Suzy lit her cigarette, blew out the match and tossed it in Bobby's hand.  But Suzy was kind; she had blown out the match so that it was cool and didn't burn.  Suzy leaned forward on the couch and again reached over Bobby's shoulder and under Bobby's chin with her warm, gloved hand.  The soft leather stroked and caressed his chin gently while Suzy whispered soft, reassuring words in his ear.  Then she reached forward with her cigarette and, with a flick of her black, leather-sheathed fingers, deposited a hot ash onto Bobby's palm.  Bobby quivered and tears again streamed down his cheek.  Suzy continued to stroke his face gently with her loving gloved hand. 

"There," she said, "That wasn't so terribly bad, was it?  Isn't that one of the
things that strong manly hands are made for?  You're not a baby - you're a big, grown-up man, now - right?"  She flicked another ash onto Bobby's palm, and he started to tremble, trying to choke back his tears. 

"It's okay, it's okay," Suzy whispered in his ear.  "I think you've earned a nice reward," she said.  She placed her palm over Bobby's mouth and nose, so that he could inhale the intoxicating scent of her leather glove.  She moved the tiny opening at her wrist to Bobby's mouth and told him to stick his tongue through to tickle her wrist.  Bobby did so, pressing his lips firmly to the leather.  Suzy giggled sweetly.  Then she moved her gloved palm back over Bobby's mouth and nose.

"Listen, Bobby," she whispered in his ear.  "You're a big, strong guy, right?  Now, it's going to be okay.  I'm just going to put out my cigarette."  As Suzy's gloved fingers crushed the burning coal of her cigarette into Bobby's hand, she could feel him hyperventilating.  As he inhaled, the palm of her glove was flush against his lips like a membrane.  When he exhaled, she could feel his breath warming her glove. He sobbed tears uncontrollably. 

"You'll get used to it, Bobby - it'll be okay.  Kiss my hand."

Suzy turned Bobby's face toward her and placed her gloved hand over Bobby's mouthwith his nose squeezed between the index and middle fingers of her glove.  Bobby could hardly breath, but he thrilled to the scent of Suzy's perfumed leather glove with its lingering aroma of cigarette smoke. 

A young woman a few years younger than Bobby came over to Suzy's couch, and asked if she could sit down with them. 

"Hi!  My name's Cindy.  Mind if I join you?  You have a great view of the stage!"  
                
Cindy was wearing nothing but a pair of black, knee-high fashion boots with stiletto heels, a black felt beret cocked jauntily to one side of her head, and a pair of short, skintight black leather gloves.  Bobby gazed at the plush velvety interior of Cindy's gloves where they were folded slightly back from her wrists so that the bottoms of her palms were just slightly visible.  She had perky, turned-up breasts and beautiful strawberry-blonde pubic hair.  As she stood in front of Bobby, she placed her gloved hands on her hips.  

"Sure," said Suzy.  "Join us!  My name's Suzy, and my ashtray's name is Bobby."

"He's cute," said Cindy, as she set her handbag next to Suzy's on the coffee table.  "May I?"

"Sure, go right ahead," said Suzy.

Cindy said, "Hi, Bobby!" as she extended a gloved hand.  "Don't be shy, Bobby.  Lick my glove."  She let Bobby lick the 'crotch' between each finger of her glove.  Then she inserted a gloved finger into her pussy and removed it.  She placed the fingertip wet with her juices lightly on Bobby's lips and said, "Take it, Bobby. It's me.  Take my finger in your month."  Sitting on the couch behind Bobby, Suzy lightly stroked Bobby's temples and cheeks with her leathered fingers while Bobby sucked the middle finger of Cindy's glove.  His erection was throbbing wildly, but he remembered that Suzy had told him not to touch it.

Cindy removed her finger from Bobby's mouth and wiped off her glove with a napkin.  She then took a pack of long filter tip cigarettes from her handbag, offered one to Suzy and sat down alongside her on the couch.  Suzy ordered Bobby to turn and kneel facing them with his hand held out.  Bobby bravely held out his naked male hand. 

"I've just started training him as an ashtray," said Suzy.  "I've only used him once so far."

Cindy handed Bobby a lighter that had been sitting on the coffee table.  As Bobby held up the flame, the two delectably beautiful women leaned forward with their cigarettes between the fingers of their black leather gloves.  He lit their cigarettes as Suzy steadied his trembling hand with her leathered fingers.

"It looks as if he hasn't been whipped yet, either," said Cindy.
 

"No.  And he hasn't had a glove since we've been here," said Suzy.  "In fact, I don't think he's ever had a glove - in his life!"

"My god!" said Cindy.  "He's like a total virgin!  How does he stand it?  Look at his poor pecker - it's pointing straight up at us as though it wants to squirt right in our faces!" 

"Let's use his mouth instead of his hand," said Suzy.  "You can let your hand down, Bobby.  Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

Quaking with fear, Bobby did as he was told.  He saw Suzy move the burning tip of her cigarette to his mouth.  The leather encased fingers and knuckles of her gloved hand were right in front of Bobby's nose and eyes.  The thumb and fingers of Suzy's other glove clasped Bobby's jaw.  But as she flicked her ash, Bobby moved his tongue and jerked his head back.  Suddenly, he felt the smarting crack of a leather glove on his face.  Tears welled up in Bobby's eyes.  Suzy's glove stung more than he could ever have imagined.  Before he could recover, Cindy whipped her leather-gloved knuckles across his face.  Bobby was still seeing stars when he felt Suzy's gloved fingers under his chin.  He sobbed a flood of tears, crying, "P-P-Please, l-let me try again!  Please!"

"Okay," said Suzy.  This time, she held Bobby's chain in the firm grip of her glove.  She gently flicked an ash onto Bobby's tongue.  Surprisingly, it was not as bad as Bobby had expected.  Cindy tickled him under his chin with fleecy-soft leather-gloved fingers.  But when it came time for both women to put their cigarettes out on Bobby's tongue, he almost passed out.  As a reward afterward, Suzy and Cindy let Bobby join them on the couch. 

An elegant woman took the stage and clapped her gloved hands in front of the microphone for attention.  "Ladies and males," she announced, "Our next real-life performance will be a boxing match between Marlene and her male.  The match will be for however long her male holds out."  Males dressed as butlers quickly converted the stage into a boxing ring complete with ropes attached to sturdy, padded posts that were anchored in the floor of the stage.  Bobby also noticed that directional microphones and video cameras were set up ringside. 

The butler males then helped Marlene's hapless male put on an enormous pair of boxing gloves.  They were so comically huge that they looked like they were stuffed with pillows.  Marlene, a cute brunette, removed her shoulder-length red kidskin gloves to work on a skin tight pair of shoulder-length black kids.  They were unlined and fit so tightly that, when she made fists, her knuckles almost looked as though they would tear right through the black leather stretched across them.  She left her gloves unbuttoned at the wrists.  Marlene was otherwise naked, except for a studded leather brassiere to protect her beautiful breasts. 

The mistress of ceremonies stood in the center of the ring and bid the contestants to come out and shake hands.  The audience burst into laughter and leather-gloved clapping at the sight of Marlene trying to shake hands with her male in his enormous, balloon-like boxing gloves.  Finally, Marlene just reached down and shook her male's pecker, which immediately seemed to grow a little bigger.  The contestants returned to their corners, and the bell rang. 

At the ring of the bell, the contestants came out fighting - or trying to.  The
audience howled with laughter at the sight of Marlene's male trying to punch with his oversized boxing gloves.  Every time he took a swing, Marlene was easily able to step out of his way.  But he was also able to block Marlene's lightning-fast jabs pretty well.  Marlene landed some punches on his oversized gut, but her leather-gloved fists almost disappeared into the folds of his blubber without much effect.  But then her opponent's arms started to tire.  When he could barely hold them up, he became very vulnerable.  At that point, he turned his back and started to run from Marlene, who was forced to chase him around the ring.  Suddenly, Marlene reversed her direction and smashed her leather-gloved knuckles right into her male's nose.  He had almost run right into her.  The directional mikes picked up the sound of crunching bone.  With blood and tears streaming down his face, her male turned from her and, facing the audience, leaned over the rope.  His huge boxing gloves hung comically at the ends of his limp arms.  Marlene stood in the middle of the ring.  She pulled her right glove tight on her hand.  The cameras focused in and showed her blood-splattered glove close up on the monitors.  

After waiting a moment, Marlene went over to her male and tried unsuccessfully to pull him off the rope.  Then, she got a better idea.  She reached between his legs and squeezed his balls with leather-gloved fingers.  He let out a howl of agony, came off the rope and stood reeling.  Marlene then grabbed his penis in her left gloved hand so that he could not get away and pummeled his nose and right eye repeatedly with merciless right jabs.  Blood poured from his pulverized nose.  The mistress of ceremonies came over and stopped the fight.  Marlene, gloved hands raised high, her right glove stained with blood and her left glove stained with semen, was declared the winner to thunderous applause.  Her male collapsed face down in the center of the ring.  Butler males dragged him offstage after taking down the boxing ring.                       

 

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