Vesting to tease

 A new branch of burlesque was launched last night. We start in our undies and then slowly start putting on extra layers as we dance. This invention sprung from the fact that we are new to our lovely hall, and we haven’t yet discovered how to turn on the heating. It was a tad chilly, it must be said.

“I’m glad I’ve got two vests on,” muttered the Sparkly Bra Pixie as we leant into each other for a particular move.

“You utter sex kitten,” I replied.

Meanwhile, the Voluptuous Jules almost jiggled in place in an attempt to warm up. I’m sure that many would have found that a warming sight.

All this, and the instruction to perform a “crisp flash”, which led to a rather smutty conversation about where to keep one’s crisps, and an acceptable time was had by all.

No class next week, showgirls, so we’ll see you on the 8^th. I shall start the evening in my heating engineer’s outfit and will lure some heating to us.

Yours, crisps duly flashed,

Burlicious x

Anatomy lesson

We have a lovely move in which first one wrist, then the other, is crisply and deliberately wrapped in a single long evening glove, giving the appearance of satin handcuffs holding the wrists close together. We use that move in the current routine, holding the wrapped wrists low and in front of the body.

"When you're doing that," says the Voluptuous Jules helpfully, "keep the arms straight and hold the hands a bit away from the body so they can be seen. You don't want them to get lost in your... in your..."

"Fanny." the Sparkly Bra Pixie says, helpfully completing the sentence for her.

Class, small as it was last night, erupts. There is then a giggly conversation about the exact picture that this warning conjures up.

Add to this the soundtrack for part of the routine of me skipping about behind the troupe, releasing the  odd; "oh bugger" as I mess up the steps in new and interesting ways, and you pretty much get the picture.

And yet, despite ourselves, the routine is starting to look really good. Cracking job, showgirls! You do us proud!

Yours, cuffed wrists well clear of the danger zone,

Burlicious x 

Wanted - a glove bitch

The long gloves that we wear for Burlicious are versatile things. In the current routine alone, we twirl one; we flip it coyly over a shoulder; we slap it through open thighs to deliver a smackette on the bum; and we pull it up the body through closed thighs and then the cleavage. The other is drawn off lingeringly across the, ahem, the chest area, and then used for handcuffs.

The downside of all this when we are learning a routine is that those gloves are taken on, off, on, off, on off, many, many times in one class. Add to that the fact that one of the gloves is peeled off inside out from elbow to fingertips, and you can see that we waste a fair amount of time in glove retrieval and management, as well as in the irritating task of turning it back in the correct way before putting it on again.

As we danced last night, we decided that what we need is a lovely wee slavey who will run around while we dance, turning gloves back the right way out, and proffering at a second’s notice fresh gloves for all showgirls while the discarded gloves are being gathered and conquered.

So, a plum vacancy has arisen for a glove bitch for Burlicious. The term “glove bitch” came from one of our showgirls. We think it could catch on. For the right candidate, we might condone suitable outfits – another of our showgirls suggests the sort of thing that a strict dominatrix might want to tower over imperiously. We’re open to that as an idea. We might also chuck in a chance to have the Voluptuous Jules stand over the glove bitch looking for all the world as if she will crush him/her under her tiny, high-heeled shoe.

Takes all sorts, no?

Yours, understaffed,

Burlicious x