Wherefore Art Thou Lesbian?

Thursday May 7, 2009 @ 1:53pm

Once upon a time many years ago when I was just a little squire, I began my journey into Leather Land. I was in my 30’s, playing softball, when I was approached by a fan, or rather a groupie, who had come out often, almost every Sunday at Waveland just to watch me play. One day she had commented that she never saw someone so greedily drop to her knees to snag a grounder, not even hesitating about the pain it may cause. She also said that I seemed so proud with the scrapes and bruises I would obtain from a well-played game. I know personally, that if I wasn’t dirty or at least bleeding, I didn’t feel I played at my best. Needless to say, I was a masochist and didn’t know it at the time, so this wonderful lady decided to introduce me to BDSM, and a brand new world had opened up for me.

Coming into the leather lifestyle as a woman back in 1995 was terrific. The Chicago leather scene flourished with many opportunities, organizations and social clubs like SLUTS, who met every Thursday downstairs at the Eagle and Visions, a local dance bar that welcomed leather women into their primarily traditional, vanilla lesbian space. Visions had a leather night put aside once a week for women and held a local Ms. Chicago Leather contest, the winner going on to compete in the upcoming International Ms. Leather competition taking place here in Chicago for the first time. IMsL normally ran their competition out of their home base San Francisco, so it was a historic event having the contest and the event at the Bismarck hotel on July 22, 1995. I attended that event and also met some members of Leather United Chicago, a pansexual leather club that I became an associate member of. LUC (Leather United Chicago) used to meet once a month and I found it to be a great source for meeting people, gay, lesbian or straight. Besides SLUTS, CLAW, a women’s social network in Chicago was very affluent and would host seminars and workshops for the women’s BDSM and Fetish communities at large. Being a leather woman was not only about outreach and education but also about having fun and meeting other leather gay women. Besides the leather scene for lesbians, there were dance bars like Paris, Augie & CK’s, Temptations, Lost and Found, and the Closet that were also available to women. It was a great time to be a gay woman, having various opportunities to hang out with friends rather you were vanilla or into leather.

The next several years found me more immersed in the leather community as an associate member of LUC attending various leather runs outside of Illinois and fundraising events held at the Eagle locally. Through LUC, I met and fell in love with a transgender female to male, but found myself at odds with social groups like CLAW who held women-only play parties. Despite understanding that these events were women-based, I still found it hard to accept that we as a couple were no longer welcomed but I maintained ties to CLAW on my own as well as became more active in the pansexual community as a couple.

While my partner was recovering from breast reconstructive surgery to complete his final transition to male, we took some time off from the Chicago Leather Scene to focus more on our home life. The late 90s was certainly great for us personally but by early 2000, the reality of a 24/7 relationship began weighing heavy on my mind. Part of the problem was him adjusting to his new look on the job as well as some outside factors socially pushing him to remain home bound and not out and about as we once were. His uneasiness to be in the public eye was due to people’s reactions to his change. It hurt him more being disrespected by certain folks who in the past were respectful to him, but now suddenly distant. They would not refer to him as he or Sir, and never called him by his more male-identified name. To me, it seemed like every time we were out there was conflict between him and some people who simply did not get this whole transgender thing, so rather than fighting the prejudice, we became more introverted, which proved unsettling for me.

The day I moved out was the hardest thing I ever had to do. He truly wanted a traditional wife, one to cook, clean, take care of him, and the house, etc. This is a most difficult thing to adjust to when you are still working two jobs, and going to school part time. I know he had hoped that financially he could afford for me to remain home, not have to work full-time so that I can complete my degree in exchange for taking on the more housewife role. Unfortunately, life simply does not work out that way. Eventually, I left the leather scene to handle the personal trauma I was dealing with after the break up but when I was finally ready to venture back out into the leather lifestyle, I had found that it had changed dramatically. I was out of touch and not aware of any women-oriented groups that were still in existence. SLUTS had already disbanded years ago, Visions closed, and if I went to the local leather bars I rarely saw any women out. Leather United Chicago had undergone some changes internally and most of their members were not active socially any longer but CLAW was still around and hosted the women’s meet and greet usually at the Cell Block during IML.

What was more disappointing to me was finding out that dance bars like Augie & Cks, Paris, recently, Temptations, and even Lost and Found had closed their doors to the lesbian population. Luckily I was still playing softball and had joined a women’s bowling league because without those social outlets I would not have met a new friend who invited me to attend a play party at a private club called Just Fabulous. This was truly a unique experience because Just Fabulous was primarily a heterosexual environment. Once they closed I started to go to the Leather Rose and another place called Gallery Domain, both of which are private member only spaces and straight. It was fun for a while being only 1 of maybe 3 lesbians that were members but I was single now and looking for other gay women or transgender female to male play partners. Despite this set back, I forged on eventually becoming a founding member of the Chicago Leather Club in 2002. CLC is a pansexual organization as was LUC and the opportunity to build a new club was very important to me and for my sanity. I had hoped it would bring out more gay leather women socially, but we received more support from the straight community and eventually we also gained some gay male members. CLC does have some lesbian members still but other than that, I really did not see any social networks or clubs for lesbian leather women only.

These days, despite the opportunities that are available on the Internet, the recent trend of low social visibility in the lesbian leather community has affected me greatly, although bars like Stargaze, the Closet and now the Velvet Rope remain open but are primarily lesbian-based and neither of these support the leather women’s community that I know of. I am unaware of any BDSM women-only spaces to date or if there are any lesbian, leather-based organizations or social networks that meet regularly in Chicago. If anyone out there has some useful information for me regarding the lesbian leather scene here in Chicago, rather it be clubs, social groups like CLAW, or any other organizations that are in support of leather women, please feel free to email me at squirelisa@comcast.net.

Update on Saturday, May 11, 2013 at 01:25AM by Lisa Lacriola aka T.Langdon Squire

OMG! – Updated  Monday June 8, 2009 @ 10:31pm

I just recd great news that this article was selected as a guest column for Jack Rinella's leather views on line.  Jack is a magnificent writer and I've been a fan of his leather views column in Gay Chicago since I came out as a leather woman myself.  It is truly an honor that he found my article worth his time and edit for a guest spot in issue #23.  For more on Jack Rinella and his columns, you can check out his website at www.leatherviews.com.  Become an email subscriber and you'll receive his columns every week, it's free and I think you will be impressed with his frank, openness, honesty and vast knowledge of BDSM and the leather lifestyle.

THE HUNTER ARIAN

It is in the form of a wolf that I am able to feed. Since my untimely death, I’ve never been able to take the blood of a human being. Although I need blood to survive, it’s much easier to let the pack make the kill so that I can satisfy the hunger. To watch such magnificent beasts surround their prey, stalking, planning, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, is a most memorable experience. It is why I chose this form.

I am powerful and exquisite. My coat of fur is a brownish-tan with silver and black patches. The grayish tint which surrounds my eyes gives me a rich and princely appearance. I am the Alpha of my pack and although the males try to win my affections, it is the female of the species which hold my interests. You see it was a female wolf that made me immortal.

I moved to the outskirts of this forest about a year ago. I needed the isolation and the convenience enabled me to run with the wolves. Once the realization of what I had become set in, my human form became obsolete. At first I couldn’t adjust to the change in lifestyle, stalking women to feed my insatiable appetite for blood. I love women and to destroy something so dear and precious was inconceivable. It is when I travel into town that I choose my human form. The nearby college where I teach provides a natural cover, keeping my true identity hidden.

Night school is filled with wonderful women but I couldn’t possibly take their lives from them in order to survive. Unless I can master how to feed without destruction, they are simply off limits; thus making this new existence a dilemma. In my mortal life I was never without a lady friend. I always fancied the young ones exciting and innocent. My innate power, money, beauty and intelligence attracted the finest mortals on the face of this fine earth. But each time I would allow myself the pleasure of their company, instincts would take over. Being a vampire does have its rewards, eternal youth, but without a way to control the hunger, I had to give up the need for companionship. It was the only way I could hang on to my own humanity which was quickly vanishing, the need for blood greater than any other pleasures available.

It was with great uneasiness that a new student transferred into my night class. She was different from the rest. More mature than the others, worldly, self-assured, and extremely intimidating. When she walked into the room her presence was felt by all, including myself. She had soon become a reminder of why I liked those young things, easy to control and manipulate to my whim. In mortal years, she was about 40, and her wavy, shoulder-length hair, coupled with a body to die for, the most sensuous lips I have ever seen, mesmerized me. Her slender neck beckoned me; my keen eyesight drawn to her beating pulse rippling through those dark, blue veins enticing me to devour the surrounding flesh.

On the student roster, her name was Arian Masters. I began to feel a certain physical attraction for Arian as the semester continued. Her feminine beauty was overwhelming. When I wasn’t around her, I would see her in my dreams. Thinking my dreams were some kind of an omen, or perhaps a warning, I was incapable of trusting her. But despite my fear, the growing attraction was gaining control of my vast strength. I couldn’t understand what power she possessed over me. Whenever she was in my presence, I found myself desperately needing to run free, out of her clutches, like in my dreams. She made me nervous, an eerie sensation, I’ve never experienced before.

The midnight hour is the most productive time for the pack. It is our playtime. Like clock work it comes, after feeding, but before sleeping. I called it our grooming hour. It was during these moments that I felt a sense of happiness and belonging. Although I felt alone at times, my pack growing to an odd number found me without a grooming partner. And denying myself the pleasure of human companionship, the emptiness convinced me to let another wolf enter our family, the need greater than the fear.

It was the morning of the first frost that the pack noticed a lone wolf slowly approaching from the direction of the main highway that encircled our domain. I remember it well. Her arrival also marked my five-year anniversary as an immortal being. Her approach was cool and sophisticated as she proceeded with speed and agility. I had sensed a confrontation and taking charge of my role, I stood my ground. But to my surprise she didn’t attack. She stopped about 10 or more feet away from me and took a heeling position. It was like she was waiting for some kind of sign that it was okay to join our playful activities. Her non-threatening howls, meek and muffled, caused a stir, as the pack looked on eagerly, awaiting my approval.

I remember seeing her pass through our way before, but never once did she come in as close as she did that day. This time I got a good look at her and immediately became fascinated by her beautiful, muscular frame. Her coat was not entirely different from my own, but she was a little older than I judging by the thick and dark mane of her neck. Curious, I allowed her to join our playtime, an encounter that soon proved beneficial. Ah, the joys of grooming. She was different than any other members of my pack. It was as if she knew what I liked, favoring an intelligence, not apparent in the other wolves. I found myself always searching for her as each day passed by. After grooming she would disappear into the wilderness. I never knew when she would return, but I always felt her presence whenever she was in my territory. I had grown accustomed to her comings and goings and was eager each time she would appear.

It seemed like months had pass, not seeing her, until one cold Halloween night, the pack venturing down towards a running stream, frantic in their movements. An overwhelming sense that something was amiss forced a resonant howl as a warning to the pack that danger was near. I had spotted a human form in the distance, a hunter, reloading a rifle. I scampered ahead of the pack to investigate, the rest of the pack stopping in their tracks to await further instruction. As the hunter grew closer, I heard a shot whistle through the chilling air, hitting me in the chest. I found myself stumbling to the cold ground, the pain worse than anything I’ve felt in my young lifetime. The loss of blood caused my mind and spirit to drift to unconsciousness. What I remember about the ordeal was the hunter standing over me, the look of delight etched on her face, proud of the prize she had snared.

I awoke to find myself in a cage with bandages wrapped around my wounded chest. I couldn’t tell where I was and I wondered why I didn’t return to my human form. This led me to believe that I never died at least not in the physical sense. Vampires can’t truly die unless their heads are cut off and a stake is driven through their hearts. Once the form they possess at the time of apparent death occurs, the vampire returns to its natural façade, usually human form. I tried desperately to transform but to my dismay, I couldn’t. I had loss too much blood in the attack and in this weaken state, I am truly helpless. I wanted to just die. But I was alive and it was obvious to me that someone or something was sustaining my very existence a reality I was increasingly becoming aware of and terrified.

Within the next hour of my incarceration, a figure came into view. To my surprise it was Arian, still in her army fatigues. She pushed a bowl of food through a small space between the ground and the cage. I was in a difficult predicament, not only caged but also unable to eat solid foods. The hunger can only be quenched by the taste of blood. I didn’t care though, I knew that without the precious blood I would eventually die and dying would be better than being caged.

I had all these mixed emotions. There was this beautiful woman that I admired greatly who could be a part of my future, but this same woman has the power to control my death. If I could only muster up enough strength to transform back into a vampire, I would gladly make my first kill. Love does not conquer all when your life is threatened. Her demise would give me great pleasure as a vampire, and my mercy would make her death less painful.

I only saw Arian in the evenings. As each day went by, I grew weaker. I knew she couldn’t possibly understand why the food she was giving me wasn’t helping, but I didn’t comprehend why she was trying to save me in the first place. It was a mystery to me. Perhaps she didn’t mean to kill me after all? I was losing myself grappling with these thoughts about her, my anger fading as quick as my strength.

By the morning of the fourth day, I began to shiver. Whimpers replaced my resonant howls and the hunger pains became intense. Arian brought another bowl of food, only this time the meat was still covered in blood. Reveling in the change of luck, I lapped up the juice that was surrounding the meat like a fountain of gushing water. She watched with instant curiosity and utter fascination as I devoured every bit of the precious liquid.

“So that’s what you needed all along, she said. Blood. My hunch was correct.”

I didn’t entirely understand what she meant but she insisted on her hunch and brought me another bowl of the nutritional blood. She then began to speak to me as if I would understand.

“I’ve been searching for you for the past five years. I thought I had killed you but in my inexperience I created you. I could sense that you were near when I entered your classroom. You looked so different than you did when I attacked you years ago. Your hair is longer, darker, you don’t wear glasses anymore and your eyes are a different color now than before. But that day our paths crossed in the wilderness, I knew that you were my protégé.”

As my mind began to whirl, I remembered the attack, but it was a wolf that attacked me not a human. I had always sensed that because I survived and soon discovered that I was a vampire, the wolf must have been a vampire as well. I took the form of a wolf with the hope that one day I might find out. I stared into Arian’s eyes, watching her as she quickly opened my cage. Still weakened, instinct made me attack. In a split second, I wrestled her to the ground and suddenly her human form vanished, transforming back into a wolf, her familiar scent overwhelming my rage. At first I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, so I ceased the attack. It was in that intense moment I realized that we were indeed one in the same. Reunited with my Sire, I heeled. For it was the midnight hour, and just like clockwork, playtime commences, after eating, but before sleeping. Ah…the joys of grooming.