Kat and the Electric Chair

I was married, twenty-something years ago, to a woman named Kat, and she was the hottest women I ever knew. She was about five foot four inches tall, with dark brown hair, brown eyes, broad cheek bones, an exaggerated hourglass figure, and small but perfectly formed breasts. Her lips were unusually full, and soft, with a pleasant pinkish tint to them. I had no problem with her looks, and other guys found her attractive too. I would sometimes enjoy watching as their eyes tracked her as she walked by. She was crazy. She once had a fender bender in a parking lot. I wasn?t even there, so she called me at work and told me about how it was my fault. She wasn?t kidding. When we met, she actually told me that she considered sex one of her hobbies. She proved it too. Honestly, I know that practically every erotic story I have ever read mentions deep throat cock sucking and swallowing of sperm. Compare that to your real world experiences isn?t that kind of an unlikely percentage? Most women I have known don?t want you coming in their mouths, and no way are they swallowing cum. Kat swallowed. She didn?t like the consistency, but she enjoyed the flavor okay. And while she never actually deep throated my cock, she tried, over and over. I am not big, only 6?, and she never quite got all of it in, but I really liked her attitude. She enjoyed being good in bed, and I took pride in helping her come. I had, back in the mid 1980?s, ordered a bunch of catalogs from a mail order catalog of catalogs. Clothing, including fetish wear, plastics, paints, coatings. Whatever caught my eye, if I thought it might become a source of information about where to get unusual clothing and prop making materials. I mean, I sent for the belly dance costume catalog. I sent for them all. When each catalog came in the mail, I would put it into a little file box I had, to find if I needed anything. I was a almanbahis şikayet photography hobbyist, and found inspiration in the pictures and descriptions. Kat knew about this, and she took little interest in it, until a couple of the fetish catalogs came in. One was shoes and boots, beautiful but expensive leather and vinyl things. The other was clothing, mostly leather fetish clothing, though it included restraints and such too. She enjoyed looking at those catalogs, but I didn?t think anything of it. I mean, what did she or I know about that lifestyle? Nothing. Nothing at all. And anyway, where did you find those people if you wanted to learn? I don?t know how she went about it, but Kat found out how to find those people. She paid the dues and signed us up as members of the San Diego Leather Association. After some kind of falling out with the National Leather Association, the San Diego organization changed its name to Club X. We went to meetings, and it wasn?t what you might expect. Usually no one came leashed. Meetings weren?t orgies either (too bad!), but a pan-sexual organization of likeminded people getting together to share enthusiasm, ideas, and support. Education was part of the deal, too. I was surprised to find out that beating someone, even if they beg for it, is illegal in California. Even in a controlled environment, with a safe word, it?s still battery here, under the law. Consent makes no difference. You call that freedom? Don?t get me started. We met lots of nice people, and a couple of not nice people. I found out that if you had your own dungeon, and were also an asshole, you got a pass on your bad behavior if you invited the right people to you parties. That was depressing. Club X picked up the cost of replacing the bed that somehow caught fire in a hotel room during Leather Fest (A fetish convention. Think Comic Con with whips almanbahis canlı casino and floggers. Okay, more whips and floggers.) When I found out what was going on, I understood why the entire Board had looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes before deciding on that one. That was a disillusioning experience. One of the people we met, one of the nice ones, was Andy. He was a mechanical engineer, medium height, slender, brown hair, beard, always wore a baseball cap, really into bondage. He got off on being tied up, or otherwise restrained. He managed to combine his engineering profession with his bondage fetish. He built himself the Electric Chair. The name sounds bad. Don?t let the engineers name stuff. I mean, yes the marketing guys really are weenies, but still. Electric Chair? Who would want to get into an electric chair? Let me describe Andy?s Electric Chair to you. Imagine if you will, two equilateral triangles of tube steel, about three feet long on each side standing up on one of the sides. About 2 feet apart, with a chair mounted between them, at the apex. The chair has no legs, but is mounted on pivots on each side that support the chair above the floor. The whole thing is painted black, and the back, seat (two parts, left and right halves), arm rests, leg rests, and head rest are all covered with padded red vinyl. It had built in straps to restrain the occupant, black nylon with metal fittings. Unbreakable, they were located at the waist, chest, across the forehead, above the elbow, at the wrist, above the knee and at the ankle. Once strapped in, the seated person was essentially incapable of moving. You could wave at someone, I guess. Not much else. The head rest was removable; the rest of the actual chair was one assembly. So, why the Electric Chair name? I?ll tell you why. It was motorized. No, you couldn?t drive it around. almanbahis casino It had no wheels. But at the pivot point there was a motor. With this motor, you could tilt the chair forward, or back, or all the way around. This would place the occupant into any convenient position that you might choose. There was another motor. The seat was split into two parts, right and left. The second motor adjusted how far apart the occupant?s knees were. You could bring them right together, or spread then fairly far apart. The motors were controlled with what is known as a pendant switch. This is a box with two switches on it, on for each motor. The box is at the end of a short cable, so that the operator may take it to any handy place around the chair. The whole thing ran off of regular wall power, just plug it in and you?re ready to go. By the time that Kat and I found out about its existence, it had already starred in a couple of X-rated bondage movies. Interest was high, and Andy was giving thought to marketing the chair, building and selling copies to interested parties with the cash and will to own one. Talk about your nich market! Still, there was bound to be little competition. Andy approached Kat at a meeting, and asked her ?Kat, would you think that Ross would take some pictures for me?? ?I guess so,? said Kat, ?what for?? ?I would like to make a flyer about my chair. I would like to make more like it and sell them.? ?A flyer?? asked Kat, ?I edit the Club X newsletter; I could do a flyer for you.? ?Actually Kat, I thought that you could maybe pose with me and my electric chair in pictures for the flyer? said Andy. ?Would you be willing?? ?I guess I could, I like having my picture taken.? And so it was decided that Kat would model with Andy and I would take the pictures. Kat informed me of my involvement in this plan, and we made preparations for shooting the flyer pictures the following Sunday. When we prepared for the shoot, Kat made sure that she was clean, made up, including the reddest red lipstick she owned, hair done, and dressed appropriately in a black and red teddy with spaghetti straps and a snap crotch.