Kelly wouldn't tell me what costumes she had picked out for us for Halloween this year. She said only it was a special secret, but she did give me a few hints.
First, and most importantly, she was determined to win the contest for Best Costume at the Andersons' Halloween party. They're friends of ours who every year pull out all the stops and throw a first-rate Halloween party. Dozens of couples come, and the winner for Best Costume gets a very shiny trophy.
Beyond that, she would only tell me that I would find out the night of the party, and that I would absolutely love it. And, she assured me, it would give me a chance to display my beach body.
As it happens, I have a very lean, muscular swimmer's body with a legitimate six-pack that I am very proud of. Maybe it makes me vain, but I love to show it off, and Kelly loves showing it off to other people just as much as I do, maybe even more so.
Kelly's body type is substantially different. I've overheard some people call her chubby, but I think she's literally perfect. She's about five-five and has a voluptuous hourglass figure, with wide hips, a round bottom, and very large breasts. Some guys might like their women less curvy, but I like a woman who's well endowed in all the right places, which Kelly certainly is. I adore her and every inch of her amazing body.
So on the day of the party, I was sitting on her bed in her apartment while she changed into her costume, tingling with anticipation. I knew whatever she came out as, I was going to love it, and when the door opened, I was not disappointed.
Kelly walked into the room wearing a black top hat, black gloves, a white button-down shirt and a snugly fitting bright red jacket that complemented her long, curly crimson hair. Below, she wore tight black pants, black leather ankle boots, and a belt with a large gold buckle. In her hand, she was holding a whip, and not a fake one at that—this was a real whip.
I was delighted. Clearly, she was meant to be a lion tamer. And what I loved most about it was that it wasn't some chintzy "sexy" lion tamer outfit bought online like most women wear. The whole getup looked very authentic, and I found the demureness of it very arousing. Everything below her neck was totally covered, and her top doubly so by the jacket that strained against the swell of her breasts. It was very erotic in how it was suggestive without giving anything away.
"I love it!" I said. "And I take it that I must be going as a lion, then?"
"Very good boy!" she said to me as she patted me on the head. "Yes, you are to be my lion tonight. But I've created a very ... special sort of costume for you."
I was intrigued. At first I pictured something like the Cowardly Lion outfit from the Wizard of Oz. That didn't sound very sexy. So I was a bit stunned when she sternly told me to strip all the way naked and sit down in the chair by her vanity.
I did as I was told, and Kelly began applying costume makeup to my face. When she finished, I looked a bit like a young boy who gets his face painted like a lion at the zoo or the circus. She'd done a very good job giving me a leonine mien, but I still couldn't figure out why I had to be naked to get my face painted.
Next she pulled out a wig of sorts that she had crafted that would be my mane. The hair was auburn and it tied around my head with sort of a chin strap holding it in place. By the time she finished jiggering it into place, at least from the neck up I looked like a very convincing lion. But the biggest surprise so far came next.
Kelly handed me one of my old Speedo swimsuits that she had altered for the occasion. It was yellow, and attached to the bottom it had a long furry tail just like a lion's. Now I was starting to see what she had in mind. I had said I wanted a chance to flaunt my six-pack, but now I'd gotten quite a bit more than a bargained for. This would be a very revealing lion costume.
"Put this on," Kelly instructed me. Already she was getting into character, giving me commands with a voice of authority and no wasted words. I did as she instructed, and once I had the suit on, I stood and looked at myself in the mirror. I swished my tail back and forth a bit, and it swung naturally. If this was how she was planning to parade me about, I was really going to be on display tonight. I found the thought of that rather arousing, though, honestly.
For my feet I got tan moccasins, which made sense, but the paws Kelly gave me had me perplexed again. They were big, pillowy things that she had clearly handmade. My hands went into a sock, and then between the palm of my hands and the edge of the paw was some fluffy material. The padding was so thick, and the paw so tightly stuffed with it that it completely prevented me from using my fingers to get a grip on anything
Kelly buckled the paws firmly into place with something like a wristwatch band and then sealed the buckle with tape to prevent me from unhooking it. The effect of these padded paws was that I was now totally dependent on Kelly to do anything that would ordinarily require the use of my hands—including taking them off.
Kelly stepped back to admire her handiwork. She smiled, obviously pleased with herself, before the serious demeanor came back.
"Now we're going to practice your commands," she said firmly. "Sit!" she said, pointing at the ground in front of her with her left index finger while she cracked the whip with her right hand. It made a loud pop that frazzled me. Not entirely sure what she wanted, I got down on my hands and knees in front of her and looked up at her for her approval. All I could think at that moment was how incredibly sexy she looked in that outfit. I was ready to gladly do anything she asked of me.
"Like this?" I asked.
"Lions cannot speak," she said crossly as she brought the whip down on my left shoulder blade. It landed with a sharp, sudden sting. She lifted the whip again, and instinctively I cowered to cushion the blow, but this time the leather snapped harmlessly in the air.
I suddenly felt very flustered, partly from the painful sting in my shoulder, but even more so from embarrassment for asking such a silly question. That was pretty stupid of me, I thought. Of course lions can't speak. Even the littlest child could tell you that. I could do better. I would do better.
