Dress Up Watching them change felt like a travesty. The temptation was towards Wizard of Oz, an unfa

Dress Up Watching them change felt like a travesty. The temptation was towards Wizard of Oz, an unfair comparison surrounded by curtains being drawn back and ugly gnomes being exposed. He hovered in the back of the room, rolling alcohol around a glass and pretending to be part of a conversation he wasn’t listening to. He would never be so trite as to say they were more beautiful without being made up, that the latex, the makeup, the airs and graces only served to obscure rather than enhance, that they’d be far prettier in just a hoodie and slacks. That’d be as dishonest to them as it would be to himself. That wasn’t the thought that was running through his head, not even slightly. Instead it was about the transformation, that moment between one thing and another, when they were halfway between the girl they were and the object of desire they wanted to become. One grabbed the zip of another’s dress, and wrenched upwards, the muscles in her arm standing out through pale skin. He licked his lips. He supposed that was why he liked to dress them up, to pervert even that lovely little bit of in-between. With him calling the shots, there wasn’t even that much innocence, ever article was prescribed, and their actions only served to enhance the sexuality of it all, turn them more into object and less into woman. He enjoyed the deterioration, watching them retreat themselves and just leave behind the animal, all feline grace and exaggerated movement. The kitchen light was unkind, too sterile without any warmth, with a small platter of cheese slowly congealing in the corner. One girl wandered in, her outfit complete. all latex and lipstick. She gleamed, every bit of covered skin shining, a circus mirror’s reflection of the world held on the side of her breast. The rest was on display, squeezed in all the right ways. He couldn’t help but smile, draining the last of his glass. “Eleanor, you look divine.” It was a declaration, but it was from three minutes in the past, when she was more focused on sliding those lovely legs into those ever so tight stockings. It had just taken this long to reach his lips. -- source link

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