Saturday, 21 April 2018

Back To Black

So, after my brief sojourn into Hamburg's Sin City noir, I planned my return to tecnicolour with a visit to Manchester's Royal Exchange Theatre for an evening performance of Frankenstein.

It wasn't quite a hasty return to full-colour, as it turned out, since the stage-set was black and stark, with minimal lighting to brighten the shadows.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort -Frankenstein, Royal Exchange Theatre.

Seated in the very first row of the audience, low to the ground and within touching distance, it certainly felt as though I was in the middle of the play itself - thankfully closer to the grim gothic horror of the original Mary Shelley story (just 19 years old when she wrote it) than the Hammer Horror films of the 1970s!

Shane Zaza was magnificent in the role of the tortured, brilliant young Frankenstein, haunted by the reality of his own making and a creation that clawed beyond his control.  Harry Atwell, playing the creature (never called Frankenstein, of course) drew both repulsion and sympathy, created in innocence to become monster and murderer.  I must mention, too, Nicola Sloane who did a brilliant job of playing firstly Frankenstein's mother, secondly Professor Waldman (who encourages Franeknstein in his endeavours) and, thirdly, a lowly workhouse woman, witness in the trial of Justine who was framed for the murder of Frankenstein's brother by the monster.

With very minimal lighting and lots of dry-ice, it was impossible to get any photos of the play for the blog, sadly, but sometimes it is quite nice to sit and watch something without the constant stare and glare of smartphones flashing bright screens everywhere.  The only other photo I got was at the end, where Frankenstein's clothes were left discarded on the stage, tattered and torn, like the remnants of a dream turned nightmare.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort -Frankenstein, Royal Exchange Theatre.
A brilliant evening, and a great chance to catch up with friends, too, post-Hamburg.

It was only last month that I visited Stockport for the town's monthly Vintage Fair, but after mentioning it to a couple of friends it was decided that we'd meet up again for some vintage shopping and, of course, cakes.

So, after the dark delights of Hamburg and Frankenstein, it was a real change to find Stockport town centre in lovely bright Spring sunshine.

As last time, there were plenty of lovely old cars parked outside the old Market Hall.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - gorgeous cars, Stockport Vintage Market.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - gorgeous cars, Stockport Vintage Market.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - gorgeous cars, Stockport Vintage Market.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - gorgeous cars, Stockport Vintage Market.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - gorgeous cars, Stockport Vintage Market.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - gorgeous cars, Stockport Vintage Market.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - gorgeous cars, Stockport Vintage Market.
 I had a good look around the market again, still hoping to find a suitable vintage-styled hat for my new bespoke Harris Tweed suit, but sadly it remains illusive.  Nevertheless, the bright weather did at least give me chance to get some snapshots of my outfit - teemed with my high-heeled Natacha Marro fetish boots.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Harris Tweed suit and fetish boots.
Afterwards, there was (of course) time to have tea and cake at Highgate Cakery before heading home.  A fabulous weekend.






Saturday, 7 April 2018

Sin City... Hamburg - Part2 - A Dame To Die For.

Saturday arrives, and my reason for hitting Hamburg.  Lie-low for the day, drifting between bed and bar.  7.00pm.  Shower.  Shave my cunt - just in case.  Dress.  Fishnet and leather, fetish boots for the bad nights, the all or nothing nights.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - dressed for Extravaganxa.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - dressed for Extravaganxa.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - dressed for Extravaganxa.
 Tonight is Extravaganxa.  Theme - Sin City.  My kind of city.  I can see the venue across the 'Bahn from the hotel window.  No cabs needed tonight.  Long leather coat and I'm good to go.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - leather lady on the Reeperbahn.
The Reeperbahn night air, as cold as the Reaper's death stare.  A quick stroll over no-mans land of the 'Bahn to Klubhaus St. Pauli.  Short queue.  Drop off my coat at the cloakroom - time to get my bearings.  Basement - bar and hypnotic dance music.  First Floor - 80's new wave, industrial.  Top Floor - chill-out room and huge play/dungeon area.  A perfect setting.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Extravaganxa.
 Back to the basement.  Already filling with fetishists, ready to party.  A plethora of perverted delights.  Latex, leathers, heels, barely-there lingerie, body paint.  Gorgeous Germanic goddesses strut and shimmer by, all eye-catching curves, tits and arses, their partners in escort.

I slide into the throng on the dancefloor.  Moving to the mesmeric music.  The beat is sexual, tribal, primal.  Heaving, gyrating bodies move against me, a frisson of delight as I'm rubbed by latex and leather, naked skin.  I'm dripping, sheen of sweat glistening in the flashing lights.  First floor - respite from the heat.  In the corner, a stall huddles selling chain-mail lingerie and dresses.  Exquisite and expensive.  I try on a chain-mail bra, removing my fishnet top in order to slip the cool delicate mesh over my tits.  A small crowd gathers.  A kiss of soft steel caresses my nipples as a hand brushes over my breasts.  Lovely.

Steel off, fishnet back on - time to explore.  Chill-out room.  Another drink.  A gorgeous blonde in skintight black rubber catsuit slinks past.  Another blonde, black latex minidress, all pierced and tattooed and showing it all, her enormous perfect breasts barely covered by the thin slivers of latex that stretch over them.  I grind my hips.  Wet panties slide against my cunt lips.  Into the darkness of the dungeon.  Quiet for now.  A few wandering souls seeking action.  I end up trawling a line of men in my fishnets, all eager to see if I'm going to stop and play.  I walk on - there's none that catch my eye.

Back on the first floor.  More crowded than before.  A balcony offers fresh air.  I step out into the refreshing cold, a perverted pope looking down at the throng of the Reeperbahn below.  Some excited revellers look up and spot me.  Camera phones out, flashing like paparazzi.  I flash my tits, preaching to the converted.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Extravaganxa.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Extravaganxa.
 Back to the mob of the basement and the swarming dancefloor.  A man moves to dance in front of me, naked apart from a leather hood, harness across a barrelled chest, boots.  Thick, long cock and heavy balls.  An urge to touch him in the shelter of the crowd, cupping those shaved balls and stroking his cock to heavy hardness, feeling it oil up in my fluttering hands.  A woman appears and leads him unwillingly off the dancefloor before I can act.  He looks back, his emotions hidden by his hood.  Your loss, buddy.

I dance on alone, lost in the music before the heat hits me like a knockout blow from a champ.  Chill-out room.  I'm not throwing in the towel yet.  I rest before another prowl of the playrooms.  Girls are stripped and strapped to dungeon furniture, whip-wielding Doms administering a catalogue of carnal delights.  Crops, hands, canes contacting with quivering flash.  Soft moans and sharp cries.  I delve deeper into the dim light.  I spy a medical chair, high stirrups for exhibitionistic exploration, but it is in use; a well-built man driving his cock into his willing patient, the steel stirrups selflessly spreading her legs.  Another room is empty.  Thin wrought-iron bed and leather-padded mattress.  I close the transparent curtain.  You can watch but not enter, unless invited.  I pull my vibrator from my bag, laying back on the soft, cool leather.  Panties off, thighs open.  A crowd gathers, watching from behind the thin curtain.  I spread my slick cunt lips and gasp in sudden sensation as the buzzing vibrator hits my clit.  Gentle fingers and buzzing vibrator on my cunt, I masturbate.  Guys watch and wank their hard cocks, desperate to be invited in.  Showtime only, boys.  For now.

I come hard, my cries joining the wails of the playroom night, a cacophony of coming cunts.  I clean up and leave the room, another train of men behind me.  I wander downstairs.

First floor.  Iggy Pop's 'The Passenger' and Marilyn Manson's 'Tainted Love' power from hidden speakers.  A full floor.  Back into the coagulated crush of leather and latex, surrendering to the pulsing sounds.  30 minutes, gone in a blink, but I'm sweating hungry once more.  Back to the playrooms and clear air.  The night slowly losing its throng, slow haemorrhage, so the playrooms are quieter.  In one cubicle a stunning young black girl is on her knees taking her lover's hard cock deep into her mouth, whilst she wanks two lucky guys stood either side of him.  I watch with a small crowd until loverboy comes, groaning, shooting spunk into her mouth.  As he pulls away I see her face, cum dripping down her chin.  My stirrup medial chair and cubicle is empty.

I slide in, closing the diaphanous curtain behind me.  In the chair, legs spread, vibrator.  I want my cum cries to bay at the moon.  A crowd watches.  Vibrator dancing on the edge of my rock-hard clit, my fingers slipping down astride it, stroking my engorged and slick cunt lips.  A young German guy, eyes wide open, watches enthralled.  Cute.  I beckon him in through the thin sheen of the curtain.  He moves through the curtain, standing close between my legs, releasing his stiff cock from the confines of his latex shorts.  Nein.  I push him lower, my long fingers in his slicked black hair.  Now he's kneeling, his face inches from my hot cunt.  He's gets the message - smart boy.  His tongue licking at my oozing cunt whilst my vibrator dances its delights on my clit.  I sense my orgasm approaching, a distant rumble of the tracks.  The crowd edges closer, hoping to be sucked into the whirlwind of pleasure.

I cum hard, German guy wanking and spraying semen over his latex as my cries echo into the dark spaces of the quiet rooms.  Hopeful faces, waiting for my beckoning finger, but I'm done.  Clean up and go, a few guys following as I leave the playrooms, still clinging to a dream.

5.30am.  Hardcore dancers and chancers still slugging it out on dancefloors and bars, but my night is done.  Cold coat on, and five minutes later I'm in bed, scents of sex and leather wafting through my dreaming head.  A night to remember.

9.30am.  Sunday.  Up and out.  Cafe Miller.  Breakfast.  Fresh cool air.  Take it easy, girl.  Head for the harbour.  In the distance a statue of Otto von Bismark stands in mute judgement.  Lay off, buddy, it was a hard night.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.
 Plan A - short sea cruise around the harbours, give my aching thighs a break.  Daytrippers, back like a scourge of kagool-wearing cockroaches.  I walk past the waiting boats, lined up to take the parasitic pleasure-seekers, motorised donkeys for a city with no beach.  Too tired for crowds today.  Plan B needed.

I walk on, westwards, the Elbe sullen in dull grey companionship. Unbidden, a new Hamburg reveals itself, a lady in dowdy clothes stripping to become an enchanting sorceress.  Houses marshal the streets, rundown but proud, splashes of bright graffiti and paint to hide the sad scars.  A part of town to mirror a scored soul.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.
Remnants and fragments of an early-morning market.  Cleaners and discarded debris of a day's dealings.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Fishmarket, Hamburg.
At the heart, the old Fichauktionshalle.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Fichauktionshalle, Hamburg.
Cross the road, the grand old lady's doors lie open, inviting - it would be rude to turn down the gal's offer.  More unlooked-for delights.  Beautiful old wrought-iron framework of pillars and staircases. Stained glass, cathedral of a community.  Organically-grown from a persevering past.  Long tables filled with early-risers and some that have still not reached their cold beds from the night before.  Beer and coffee bars, serving the fishmarket crowd. 

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Fichauktionshalle, Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Fichauktionshalle, Hamburg.
At one end, a band beats out rock music.  10.30am.  Bourbon while the band thunders out heavy metal rock into the iron skeleton of the hall.  Deep Purple.  'Smoke On The Water'.  Appropriate, with the ashen-faced Elbe a few feet away.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Fichauktionshalle, Hamburg.
 Closing time.  The old hall empties.  An impeccably-dressed old German lady starts chatting, loving my outfit.  A local lady, desperate to keep the old heart of her city beating.  Lovely people, a different world to the brash visitors to the Reeperbahn.  The hall closes, but I'll remember it for next time.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Fichauktionshalle, Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Fichauktionshalle, Hamburg.
Back outside.  Back on the quiet streets.  Silence torn by the growl of thundering Harley Davidson motorbikes.  Old and new buildings joined in eternal embrace.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.
Grafitti and peeling posters, littering the walls with stories of dreams and brief escape.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.
I turn my back on the river, heading back into the city.  Quiet cafe with low-slung bikes, hot engines cooling in the still morning, dreaming of the open road.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Harleys, Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Hamburg.
 Back to the Reeperbahn.  Back to the hotel.  Bags packed... but one last thing.  The new catsuit.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Lace and PVC catsuit, Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Lace and PVC catsuit, Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Lace and PVC catsuit, Hamburg.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Lace and PVC catsuit, Hamburg.
 Snapshots before the last suitcase is snapped shut.  Early night.  Early flight.

Hamburg.  10.30am.   Dull and grey as only a northern city can be.  Heavy fog to say goodbye.  A short flight - tight, sleazy and cheap, like most of the ladies... well, you know the rest.  Manchester.  11.30am.  I look out of my window at the shrouded city, glowering in the muted shimmer of sunlight sifted through hazy fog.  Home.

Cold apartment, but hot-cinder memories branded into the brain.  Hamburg.  What a town.  Sin City.  What a damn party that was.