So, the date went extremely well, but not nearly long enough. We got in a good solid two hours and fifteen minutes or so. Sara did not show up in her Catholic school girl uniform (It was a bit nippy out, and she wasn't in the mood for dress-up.), so we didn't play out the scenario I described yesterday. We talked about doing it sans uniform, but I really want there to be a plaid skirt involved when we act that one out. Hrnk.

She was in the mood for cruel, though. And that would be Julian, a playfully cruel vamp who's not much on sympathy or social mores. The scenario for last night was that Julian would be stalking around outside Eleanor's house, pick up the scent of her masturbating inside, then pick the lock on her front door, come in and help himself.

Before we start a scene, I always go for some nice snogging, which gets my juices going. So we did that for a bit while we talked about what we were going to do. Then it was time to strap on. Stored near the attic window, the harness (leather straps and metal buckles) was chilled to way below serving temperature.

For some reason, both Sara and Deb like to watch when I strap on. I feel like an idiot while I'm doing it. It's always the most body-conscious moment of the evening. Then I get over it, 'cause my eyes are on the prize.

I loaded up Hank (everybody's favorite leather dildo), and slid my boot knife (in sheath, of course) into the back of my jeans. It has a metal handle that felt like somebody was sticking an icecube tray up against my toasty back skin.

Okay, there's even more prep work involved, but lets get to the good stuff. I jumped Sara and gagged her with a section of coiled rope (which she could spit out if she needed to), tied her hands together behind her back, and then bound her feet together. Julian proceeded to play with her for a while, teasing, torturing, pissing her off, doing some good neck feeding. Ungh.

I untied her at one point, got to fight her back into submission, swayed her to my point of view that she really wanted what I had to offer. She came so hard at one point she was splashing ejaculate (what an awful-sounding term, but better than "love juice" or something), I mean shooting Megasex Power Spray, up to my chest. We topped (well, I topped, she bottomed) the evening with some excellent ass-play, and all-too-soon it was time to stop and get dressed, dammit.

Best seriously in scene line of the night (topic�what having your blood drained until you pass out feels like): [Julian] I'll take you to a dark room where you'll watch the door close behind you and forget there's a way out.

Best instructional line of the night:

[Sara] No. Keep that one still and move the other one.

[Badsnake, in Cirque du Soleil contortionist pose] I would if I could.

So, you say, what fun. Well, boys and girls, it's not all just fun and games. There's a lot of planning that goes on to make one of these dates go off without a hitch. Let's start the filmstrip and show you what goes on behind the scenes before these two girls fuck like some popular het male diarists who over exaggerate their penis size wish they could.

At least 24 hours before the date, I check my fingernails to be sure they're short enough. Any closer to actual blast-off time, and I risk having sharp edges (and we wouldn't want to have to use a girly emery board, now would we?);

In the hour pre-date, there's a lot of equipment and survival gear to check over. This process is just as important as a pilot going through her checklist before a flight, or a musher preparing for the Iditarod.

I check to make sure that Deb has washed, folded, and restocked the towels that are used solely for Sara to come all over. (My, god, do you believe how good my wife is to me?) Are the sheets clean, too? Good girl, Deb.

I make sure there are plenty of condoms and lube. Are all the dicks washed and clean? Is my knife here within easy reach, or was it carelessly left lying somewhere else around the house the last time I threw it at a cat that tried to wake me up too early?

If it's cold, I decide whether or not to turn on the heaters in the attic. Chill-erected nipples are sweet, but only if the rest of the skin's not blue.

There has to be two small or one large bottle of chilled water, also within reach of the futon. Fucking is thirsty work.

Is every flogger, whip, paddle, rope, manacle, dog snap, carabiner, or chain I could conceivably want to use during the date available within a 10-foot radius of the futon?

And lastly, have I had my last smoke for the next two or three hours? Have I brushed my teeth like a good girl? And have I washed my hands?

Check, check, and check.

That's right, boys and girls. You, too, can have unbelievably righteous BDSM sex IF you're prepared to do all the hard work that it takes to make things just right.