I’ve Been Schooled.

T occasionally puts together a schoolgirl outfit to go to a munch or other event.  It’s not a frequent thing, but she’s done it at least a few times since I’ve known her.   A while back, she posted a picture of her in a schoolgirl outfit, with a mischievous-yet-innocent look on her face.  I commented that that picture really made me wish I was bullied in school, and I mentioned something about how she could stuff me into a locker any time.

The other night, I picked her up from work and brought her back to her place so she could change before coming to mine.  Once she changed, she stepped up to me in the schoolgirl outfit and asked, “How do I look?”  After I responded, she got closer.  Her tone changed.  It became much colder and sharper.  She got in my face.  “Good.  Because from now on, I’m that bitch who bullied you in school.  And if you tell anyone that I’m spending time with you, I’ll ruin your ass.  I’ll make life miserable for you.  Now get my bags.”  Then she turned and walked out.  Even the way she moved was pointed and bitchy.  I was stunned.  I wasn’t quite sure how to react to this, and all I could do was stammer and obey.

I put my boots on and followed her out.  She scolded me for not keeping up with her.  The drive to my place is about fifteen minutes, and it was a silent, awkward fifteen minutes.   She kept her arms folded in front of her the whole time, not saying a word.  I was too nervous to say anything.

Once we arrived at my place, T went upstairs and had me strip.  She beat my ass with a ruler while chiding me for not getting her an A on her last homework assignment.  I have to wonder if my neighbor was home and heard that part; the thought of it makes me smile.   At one point she took off the tie she was wearing (which she’d borrowed from me) and choked me with it.  I now have happy memories associated with that tie.  T also kicked me in the balls about a dozen times and then made me kiss her shoes to thank her. She followed this by pissing on my face in the bathtub and then riding a dildo gag she’d strapped in my mouth.  It was twenty pounds of sexy.  Maybe even twenty-five.

I’m focusing less on the physical aspects of play here and more on the other aspects for a reason.  I find them thought-provoking.

For a while it felt nearly like we were really high school students going through this.  Her mannerisms were very much like those of  a spoiled, bitchy teenager in school.  She never broke character.  It stopped feeling like a role-play and became reality; for a while I believed it.  And even though I could throw her if I wanted to, I still felt intimidated by her.  I never knew what to expect next.  She made me feel smaller than her, which I’m sure was at least part of her intention.

Since she made me feel smaller, it also feels like this type of scene has a ton of potential for humiliation.  It felt like I was primed for or somehow predisposed to humiliation during this scene.  This style of scene would probably lend itself rather easily to incorporating the other forms of humiliation that we’ve done as well.  Things like face spitting, licking the soles of her shoes, cum eating, forced feminization, or armpit licking would very easily fit in a scene like this.  But what I find interesting is that other things that I don’t normally find very humiliating can take on a humiliating edge with this kind of scene; when she had me kneel and kiss her shoes, I felt a slight tinge of humiliation, even though I normally don’t feel that when I kiss her shoes.  I feel like sucking her strap-on during this type of role-play would be similar.  The entire time we played, I felt slightly off-balance and more prone to being humiliated.

For my part, I felt a little awkward at times since I wasn’t sure how to react.  I was never bullied, so I wasn’t sure how the person being bullied would normally react.  Plus, I normally get much quieter during scenes, so carrying my weight in a role-play can be even more difficult.  Thankfully T was strongly driving this scene, especially since in this scenario the bully is the one doing most of the talking.

I’ve also never been big on role play, but this really worked well, and it helped improve my thoughts on role play in general.  This scenario in particular has a lot of possibilities as well; I could be not only another student as we just did, but I could also be a teacher, older brother, principal, etc.  And we could easily incorporate any form of play that we do.  There are a lot of ways to go.  It’s got a built-in freshness to it.  Role playing has often felt forced or just silly in my previous experiences with it, but this flowed really well.

Another aspect I find intriguing is that I’ve never gone for the icy bitch type.  Even in fantasy, it never really did anything for me.  Maybe I was okay with this because it was a role-play and not who she is in our daily relationship.  I really, really don’t get along with people like that in real life.  Even if it were someone I met at an event and wanted to play with, I’d pass if she were like that.  But I trusted T and went along with it, and I’m very glad I did.  It turned out to be a wild scene that expanded my horizons.

I’m still chewing on my thoughts on this a few days after it happened, which tells me that my brain got wrapped around something good.

Well That’s Better

I finally got the replacement for the shirt that tried to kill me. (There was a mix-up in the warehouse which delayed my exchange. Grr.)

It fits well, and I can actually remove it without using a crowbar. Definitely a plus. And just in time for COPE too. I can remove this one with minimal effort, so I don’t have to make a spectacle of myself when getting ready to play. Much goodliness.


I’ve been thinking about the paradoxical (at least for me) nature of masculinity lately, and one of Bitchy Jones’ recent posts struck a chord with me.

I’ve been called butch by friends before, which felt a bit odd being applied to a guy. I dress in a masculine way which emphasizes my body. One guy in the local scene even said, “You’re the only normal male sub I know” since I’m not the stereotypical obsequious sissy maid type. Working out and dressing this way gives me a boost in confidence and makes me feel sexy when I go out. I take pride in my appearance. When I go to a bdsm event, I’ll be in jeans (which fit properly) or leather pants, a somewhat snug shirt, or maybe a leather shirt. I don’t go in a French maid’s outfit. Pretty much the exact opposite.

On the other hand, I have done some feminization play in private, and the woman I was playing with and I both found it hot. To me, the appeal was more that this isn’t who I am in daily life, so it pushed me some. If I were in that state all the time (by my own hand or someone else’s) it’d lose a lot of appeal.

Plus, I think the traditional gender roles are a bunch of crap. Being told that we should do certain jobs around the house, get specific careers, or take the majority of responsibility for romance just because of how we were born is hypocritical and worthless.

Masculinity itself has become a caricature. When people talk of masculinity, some often cartoonish images come to mind. Yet we’re expected to hold ourselves to these played-out standards and be the crotch-scratching, overly-hairy, money-throwing, willing-to-do-anything-for-sex, drunken frat boy types who aren’t able to talk about feelings in any capacity. Personally, I refuse to be that. It’s not who I am.

For me, masculinity has two faces. There’s the sexy, comfortable side, and there’s the prefabricated stereotypical sludge that others push on us.