Sunday, October 25, 2009

A beavertail designed for love


3 mm smooth black neoprene beavertail jacket

A new beavertail design: Gepetto’s designers have asked me (and I had Taryn included) to help test a new beavertail wetsuit jacket designed for shock and awe as well as ease of use during dive-sex. It’s an adaptation of the classic wetsuit design from the 60s and 70s, but with the advantage of modern thermal protection and materials. It can be purchased as a two piece vintage style beavertail sports wetsuit with separate jacket and trousers. However, Gepetto’s marketing people expect the jacket to be the big seller because it’s designed to be worn separately; cut high in front to display the hips and pelvis while cupping the buttocks to prevent wedgies while the beavertail is securely locked in place, giving the wearer superior comfort and her partner complete access during penetrative sex. The nickel plated Twist Lock closures are padded so they can’t be felt by the wearer and the tail can be folded and slipped under the wearer’s tank out of the way when she is penetrated from behind.

Hypothermia: A reader asked why the girl who attacked and drowned her rival in the training pool [My entry, Death in a drysuit, for October 24, 2009] was wearing only a bikini when the water temperature at the bottom of the pool was in the low 60s and if hypothermia could have contributed to bikini-girl’s death. I don’t think anyone could know for sure why she was wearing only a bikini when her rival was in a drysuit. However, that suggests to me she took advantage of an available opportunity and her lack of thermal protection shows her attack was a spur of the moment thing when the opportunity presented itself with little or no premeditation. I think it’s entirely possible that hypothermia could have had something to do with her death. Some of the symptoms of hypothermia that she might have experienced include: Clumsiness or lack of coordination, Confusion or difficulty thinking, Poor decision making, Drowsiness or very low energy, Apathy, or lack of concern about one's condition, Progressive loss of consciousness. The water at the surface was in the mid 70s so I don’t think she had any idea beforehand what it would be like on the bottom with the circulator pumps off.

I think once she found out what conditions were at the bottom she tried to improvise. Pulling off her rivals mask and shutting off her air shows she realized she needed to insure her rival’s speedy death if she was going to have time to watch and by then she may have already misjudged her own condition and been experiencing symptoms of hypothermia and making bad judgments relative to her own survival. That probably accounts for her not filling her BCD – the first thing she should have done when she realized she was in trouble - and ascending to the surface the minute she felt nauseous. Immediate ascent might have saved her from drowning, but it wouldn’t have prevented her miscarriage which was caused by the water pressure, her exertion and excitement. She managed to avoid the routine pregnancy tests Escort trainees take before diving by being on special assignment as a pelvic training instructor at Gepettos Woman’s fitness gym. So we are changing the testing protocol to require trainees to test at least once a week even if they aren’t actively diving that week.

Shredding laces: I had an opportunity to test my new micro-bladed heels on my Pleasure boots the other night. [For more about micro-bladed heels see my October 18, 2009 entry] Robin and I were at a fetish club north of the Strip and there was this beautiful showgirl from another casino in a black latex encasement skin and a lovely pair of high quality ballet boots. She was looking for a hookup. She was about 5 inches taller than me and all tits and boots. Robin commented on how exotic she looked and I agreed, she has a spectacular figure though it looked to me as though it might have been silicone enhanced. And she was wearing a short plug pelvic shield for protection because she was menstrual and had a Diva inserted. I only know that because we were in the ladies room at the same time when she was emptying her Diva and she made several comments about how hot Robin was and I agreed letting her know he was with me. She said “well, honey he may have arrived with you, but I’m taking him home with me” Not a good direction for the conversation to be headed in, but then I think she had had just snorted a line or two of blow so she was feeling invincible. I just let it go and walked out and back to our table. I love the attention when everything stops as I walk across a busy room in my pleasure boots. It’s good publicity for Gepetto too even when women find out how much a pair cost and worse how difficult it is to get them. It’s worse than an outsider trying to buy a Birkin bag! I told Robin about the showgirl who wanted his body in her bed and he smiled and said “There is no one as tight as you are with me”. And I thought what a great line that could be taken so many ways, all of which were true; though I know he’s not really mine to keep, unless I was to agree to marry him.

Tits and boots: So Tits and boots came out of the Ladies and looks around. She spots me, or perhaps it was Robin she was looking for, and after stopping for a draft comes over to our table. I could tell that it was going to be a confrontation and if I was going to leave with my reputation untarnished I was going to have to do two things quickly. Let her provoke me to the point I could plausibly act in self defense and two do it fast enough that I could do what I needed to before club security could stop the fight. T&B hadn’t taken a sip from the beer in her hand when she got to our table and intentionally poured half of it down the front of my rubber encasement suit and said “Honey, why don’t you go out back and hose yourself off, you smell like a brewery”. I started to get up and she kicked at my breasts with her left boot. Dodging the platform and heel which could leave a nasty puncture wound I intentionally tipped my chair over backward. Fortunately the people at the next table had gotten up to dance so when I crashed into their chairs there was room for me to tumble and roll to my feet before T&B was on me. She had given me provocation for self defense so it was just a matter of taking her out. As she kicked at my breasts again this time with her right boot I stepped into her space and drove the heel of my left boot into and down through her laces of her left boot. I could hear the laces ‘ping’ as they were severed and knew she was wearing what are advertised as slash-proof laces. She said “what the fuck?” and began to totter as her ankle lost the support of her boot. I pulled my heel out of her shredded laces w/o puncturing her foot which I could have easily done while my heel was against the tongue of soft leather covering her vulnerable instep.

Checking her turnout: I was ready to stop, but high on coke she was all aggression and when she got her right leg on the floor and shifted her weight I stepped back. Her third kick to my breasts was with her left foot in the ruined boot. This time I sidestepped, caught the platform and heel in my hands as it was at the height of my shoulders and using the leverage the platform and heel gave me twisted her boot in a clockwise direction. Her foot was still completely in the boot so even with the laces split there was a tremendous amount of torque forcing her foot past the 90° of rotation considered perfect turnout. If done gradually over time and the turnout is done at the hip joint, turnout can often be improved. Done the way I did it, it will often blow the knee joint which is what happened. I could hear the pop as the bone dislocated and the tendons and muscles tore beneath the black latex skin of her encasement suit. I had had her boot in my hands less than a second and it appeared that all I had done was to push her platform and heel away from my breasts. She toppled backward onto the floor and her screams masked the blow from my left boot into her crotch. The short-plug pelvic shield she was wearing was driven into her clitoris and her eyes opened wide and she moaned and tried to draw her good knee up into the fetal position. My kick had pushed the plug into the stem of her Diva cup, which could have either forced it on to her cervix or caused the contents to spill. Her flow spilled and began leaking into the crotch of her suit and through the zipper which wasn’t waterproof. By the time security got there it was all over. T&B was writhing on the floor screaming about her leg being broken and leaking blood from her crotch. T&B was right about one thing, I did smell like a brewery and by then it had all dried or run off. The shaft seals on my Pleasure boots worked perfectly keeping the liquid out. Robin had paid our bill and come over to escort me to the manager who we both know to explain what happened. He wasn’t concerned since he had the whole thing on video showing that I was provoked and then attacked for no valid reason so it was pure self defense on my part.

1 comment:

  1. When do people learn never to mess with you? I guess not everyone in Vegas knows who you are and what you can do. They always have to learn the hard way.

    ReplyDelete

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Las Vegas, Nevada, United States
I'm a classically trained dancer and SAB grad. A Dance Captain and go-to girl overseeing high-roller entertainment for a major casino/resort