Going to Vegas every year for the big cons - the Adult Entertainment Expo and the newer BondCon as well - usually leaves me wanting: wanting more, wanting better and definitely wanting more intimate. Well this year, I got more of everything and the intimacy was offered by LA's loopiest domina, Widow Centauri.

The Sunday that everything was shutting down, she hostessed a private, women-only brunch in the Vegas 'burbs. As she was giving me "left here, drive three miles to the light" directions, I began to hyperventilate. No way. Taxis in Vegas cost a fortune, and that's without factoring in how lost I'd no doubt get. She graciously offered the chauffer services of Slave Arabella, who showed up in my motel parking lot precisely 20 minutes later. I was off!

Mind you, it was glaringly sunny, I'd had 10 hours of sleep - cumulatively - since I'd arrived in Sin City and I was in no shape to don my fetish attire. So I'd stuffed my stilettos and PVC into a shopping bag and showed up at the brunch in jeans and a cleavage-laden shirt. I'd heard that there would be a photographer documenting the event, so I did want to be prepared. Thankfully, the photographer cancelled, so I was able to relax in those jeans!

There was a crackling fire, a fired-up jacuzzi and a table full of breakfast treats available upon arrival. I immediately accepted a mimosa and settled in beside the fire to meet the assembled dommes: Katrina Rosebud, LA domme and XXX adult star; Ember from Portland; Ms. Whips of Atlanta; Arizona's Agony Bliss; Widow's manager and photographer Blue Sirius; and our hostess herself, Widow Centauri.

The lovely Jennifer whipped up omelettes-to-order that fortified me for further adventures with mimosas. We posed for Blue beside the pool, in a fancy car, on top of a giant anchor and just enjoying each other's company. It was so nice to chat about universal truths - slaves who dream of a relationship with their Mistress, phone freaks who ask for sex or drugs during sessions, etc. - in such comfortable surroundings, not to mention those endless mimosas!

Slave Arabella had been relegated to chauffer duty even when he had no one to drive. He sat in the car alone until called upon! There was a slight bit of masculinity, however, if you count the ranch-style house we were brunching in; the retired guy who offered the space obviously favored retro '70s-era decorative touches and his personal belongings gave the gathering a client-like air, almost as though there were a submissive toiling in service to us. Which, I suppose, he actually was, since he'd so generously offered his home!

We especially appreciated the round, fire-engine-red hot tub he'd installed in his bedroom. The mirrors and tiles accenting the tub only accentuated our time warp. When Katrina Rosebud announced that Widow was about to shave her ass, well, I couldn't resist following along.

The hot tub was filled with warm bubbles and Widow wielded a can of shaving cream and razor, looking fiendishly evil. Katrina soaked and frolicked and eventually offered up her posterior, cheeks spread. I watched - and digitally snapped - as Widow shaved Katrina clean, reveling in every goosebump and crevice. The process was far longer and drawn out than was necessary, but that doesn't mean we didn't all enjoy every minute. Meanwhile, I was still tipping the mimosas and providing Widow with the occasional sip - much to Blue's disapproval. Ooh, I do so love being a bad influence!

After the hot tub had been drained and soothing lotion applied to Katrina's freshly-shaven privates, it was time to load up the car and have Slave Arabella drive us back to BondCon. But all the bondage demos and custom-made whips in the world wouldn't match up to my morning of mimosas. Cheers to Widow Centauri for providing such a peaceful oasis and the lovely ladies for participating!

Photos by Blue Sirius and courtesy of Widow Centauri.