The "Any Leatherworkers here?" post reminds me of a real adventure I had years ago.
I haven't thought of in a long, long time.

I answered an ad in the early '80s from the Voice, Screw or one of those type weekly papers in NYC. A seamstress was offering to make custom made kink outfits for dominas, and subs too, I think. I called out of curiosity and she began to ask me about my scene. I was "jungleboy" even then. I wanted a brown leather or suede Tarzan outfit of some type. She had an exotic Eastern European accent and began to ask me about my measurements... just about all of them. (Lol!) As we spoke I began to ask about her measurements. She purred out her numbers, 42DDD-28-38, and I agreed to have her measure me after work.

She had an apartment in the East 30s I think. Her measurements were quite accurate. She was around 50 or so, 5' 1", black hair down to her shoulders wearing a tight dark brown knee length dress with a V neck. And a thick brown belt accentuated the size of her hips and breasts. She was wearing brown leather boots. And black reading glasses which were either perched on the end of her nose, or when not in use rested on her ample cleavage.

She used those glasses to eye me up - I was 30 or so then, 6' 1" and in good shape. The seamstress took me into her sewing room that had tables filled with materials of all types, plenty of leather, her sewing machine and one chair.

I knew this wasn't your average fitting when she asked me my height and weight and sternly said, "Get undressed. Except for your briefs." I didn't know where this was going but I was getting turned on. And she could tell. She complimented me on my physique and said, "Yes, I could see you as Tarzan." And she began to measure me. As she measured my waist, my hips and my thighs she demurely rubbed her breasts against me. When she measured my inseam her hands "thisclose" to my groin. By that point I was at complete attention.

She then turned around and picked out a brown suede piece and asked how did I like it. Sweating now and completely hot and bothered I said great and she said, "I have to see how this looks," and tucked in the suede into my briefs from hip to hip and slowly tucked it around my groin feeling me up. Kneeling down and holding me there she said, "I'll make this so it is tight when you have a hard-on."

She then got up, turned to the piles of samples and said, "I make whips too." And she took out a short black model. "Do you do that with your Mistress?" I said a little bit. Then she asked, "Does your mistress give you over the knee spankings?" I said yes, she said down and said, "Get over my knee now."

She pulled off the suede and my shorts and proceeded to give me a firm, hard hand spanking, remarking that I had a nice ass.

When she was done she ordered me to get on my knees in front of her. Without removing a stitch of her clothing she asked, "Do you like my breasts?" Which were plunging out of her top. I of course said yes and she said, as she was massaging them, "Maybe you can worship them sometime." And then she ordered, "play with yourself!"

When I was finished, cleaned up and began to dress she acted liked nothing happened. She told me to come back in two weeks for a fitting, kissed me the cheek, hugged me and said goodbye.

I left dazed and confused wondering what just happened. No tribute was mentioned. Was she a Mistress? A seamstress? Or both?

I called her a couple more times to see if the piece was ready and it never was. Finally on the third call she said her husband didn't like her making "kinky outfits" anymore and glumly said not to call her again.