I have at length concluded I'm not going to write up fully my exploits of Saturday November 27th 1999. You may wish to read the preceding entry, for Saturday May 2nd 1998. In essence, I went for the repeat experience at the Erotica UK exhibition at Olympia, and while the results were not quite so spectacular, they were adequate. I wore a certain football shirt again; it is in evidence in some but not all of the pictures below, as I shall explain shortly.

I went by train. The Olympia Exhibition District Line Tube service was running; as I approached Earl's Court by Tube, the amount of, shall we say, culturally significant clothing on public view was climbing steadily; and spiked when boarding the train for the one-stop journey to Olympia. I bought a ticket on the door; £18, less than I paid last year despite not managing to achieve a 20% random discount.

Given that the London Fetish Fair weren't going to be present, as the organisers of the exhibition had felt that they'd entirely stolen the show on a previous occasion, I expected rather more bland content. I was wrong, and there was some minor sight to be seen wherever you turned. For example, one stand was selling sheepskin-lined leather cuffs, and these were fixed to the stand to prevent people from walking away with them; but this did not prevent one young woman and her boyfriend try some out for comfort and fit, leaving her effectively part of the display for a few minutes.

What did I buy? I bought some more bondage tape, as discussed in the preceding entry; but I shall concentrate on one stand -- one of those "get your picture taken with the girls" stands. [Mike Keith -- Professional Photographer; Mr Mike Keith, 3 Manor Drive, Telscombe Cliffs, Peacehaven, East Sussex, BN10 7EB, Tel: 01273 588299.] There were a few people hanging about; then there was a PA announcement to the effect that Jo Guest would be appearing at a particular stand between 2pm and 4pm. I looked at my watch; the time was now 1.51pm. I looked at the stand; not very busy. It was however quite busy when I finally left.

Below are most of the several pictures taken. There were three models present at the stand; Jo Guest, Emma Bingham, and Sonja. I got some pictures done, wandered off, and found Emma trying to blag some bondage tape from the stand selling it. Emma is, as students of such pictures will already have been able to infer, the lass in the red latex dress; an outfit with little room for pockets, and without her being able to produce any money, the staff on the stand wouldn't hand over any tape, at least not without the boss's authority, and he wasn't there. So it was that I returned to the other stand, clutching rolls of black and red tape, and Emma's eyes lit up. It may have been Emma's original plan to assist Sonja; on the stand selling bondage tape there had been women wearing dresses, skirts and so formed entirely by tape wrapping, and if had been Sonja's plan to try such an outfit, I'd have been more than happy to donate some tape and commission some polaroids.

The photographer was initially not enthusiastic at seeing me holding reels of tape with the word "Bondage" written on the label -- "you're not tying Jo up". I explained what I had in mind, and Jo put her down her cigarette and her coffee, and Emma and I decided what tape to use. The final arrangement with Jo using the red tape and Emma the black, mostly to avoid clashes against clothing, was Emma's plan; and it was Emma who saw me extend a fingernail to a roll of tape to tease the end away from the roll, and more or less snatched the tape from my hand -- "let me do that, I've got nails." Since I didn't have much of a clue, the chest binding seen in the picture was also Emma's idea -- "Right then -- take your shirt off." She used most of a roll of tape; had I known that after wrapping my shoulders the reason she was slowing down might have been the lack of remaining tape, I'm sure we could have dispatched someone to get some more. She made the initial chest wrap quite tight; a special feeling, and once the tape began to warm a little, and my skin began to sweat beneath it, some sensations familiar to any rubberist returned. Once the picture-taking had finished, Emma cautioned me against even thinking about taking off her lovely chest harness, and I was wandering about wearing my jacket without my shirt to display it until I prepared to leave the exhibition. It was gone midnight before I did remove it, using scissors.

Jo on the other hand was a little at sea with this, and needed some reasonably full instruction from me on how to tie a man's wrists securely; and I maintain it was this distraction which caused me to forget to ask her if she was seeing anybody at the moment. [I learned from the Daily Star a few weeks later that no, she wasn't. But then I expect that had I asked, I'd have received some gentle reproof that, under the circumstances, no, I was not her ideal bloke sort of material, and what would some nice lass from Chesterfield want to do with a bloke asking her to tie him up?] On the other hand, having rushed precipitately into taking photographs, with money up front, there was change to be given. Jo thought for a moment, took the four pound coins of interest, and having herself already ensured I didn't have a hand free, smiled sweetly and slipped her hand inside my front left trouser pocket to drop the coins there.

I will be the first to admit that this is not exactly the height of licentiousness, especially within the context of the paraphernalia on sale elsewhere at that exhibition; but in being able to say "Jo Guest stuck her hand in my front pocket once", I am sure I am one up on most of my contemporaries. Later, on mentioning that I planned to put some of the pictures on my website, the photographer decided I needed Jo's permission to do so, which she readily gave, and for which I am most grateful.

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