ROLE PLAY – and reality

In twenty years of seeing spanky sex workers I’ve never once played a school uniform role play. A submissive I once saw at a well known London establishment walked into the room in school uniform and I asked her to get undressed straight away. I know it’s THE staple for many professional submissives; a fantasy played out harmlessly by consenting adults every day, but there’s something about the simulated non-consent nature of it, together with the implied age of the role the sub is playing, which makes me uneasy.

Actually, if I’m brutally honest with myself, it’s the fact that I am so turned on by that fantasy, while feeling that I shouldn’t be, that is really what makes me uneasy.

So uneasy, that I’ve deleted that sentence and re-written it twice, before deciding to confess.

Writing and then playing out a “coach spanks the cheerleader” fantasy triggered some of that same unease. The story put the coach in a position of power and had him use that power to force a pretty young women into a spanking and BDSM scenario. However, once Miss S and I had realised that our meeting was on the 4th July, the idea of playing out just such a USA based fantasy took hold and we went for it, even buying a cheerleading outfit from Ann Somers!

And it was fun. Really a lot of fun.

Miss S arrived at my “office” (the bedroom space at Better Than A Bed) all nervous and worried looking. I suspect little acting was required here! I had her follow a cheerleading exercise video, enjoying how the little dress moved as she swivelled and jumped, relishing the close fit of the top over her breasts.

When she made a mistake I gave her a warning, explaining that spanking was part of the cheerleading program. At the next mistake, I spanked her, just as in the story I’d written. I pushed past her initial refusal, forcing her to accept the spanking and bend herself over the arm of the leather chair in an act of reluctant submission to my will. I think you can sense her hesitation in this image.

At this point, I realised that she was no longer acting. Her real nervousness, fear even, showed in the clammy sheen on her skin, in the slow reluctance with which she bent over the chair, wanting to delay the spanking as much as possible. The realisation that what we were doing was simultaneously both a light-hearted, kinky role play AND something very real, very intense between the two of us rendered the moment before I landed the first smack redolent with meaning.

She looked fantastic, bending over the rolled arm of the chair in her red uniform, the little dress riding up to reveal her white knickers.

I’m spanking her; slowly, softly at first and then harder and faster as I explore her limits, pushing on past the noise she’s making each time I smack her bottom; pressing her down hard onto the leather chair to stop her squirming away from my hand.

I’m living out the coach/cheerleader fantasy while taking this brave, very real, young woman into a deeper exploration of the boundary between her pain and her pleasure; pushing her further and further over that line. I feel she’s close to tears when I finish.

The scene was undoubtedly “hot,” in fact really super hot, at a superficial level but, for me at least, the response to it went deeper than that: I felt a complete immersion in what we were doing; in the connection between us; in her trust; in my responsibility; in my desire for her to feel tested but in a way that made her want to be tested again.

It was very charged, very intense, very erotic.

At the end, as she stood unsteadily from the chair, I pulled back the curtain, just as in the story, revealing for the first time the large, fully equipped BDSM dungeon. She walked slowly into the space, wide eyes taking in the cross, the hoist, the leather bench; touching the lines of whips, floggers and paddles; nervously eyeing the dildos, nipple clips and chains.

We were thirty minutes into the two hours we planned to spend there.

I may tell the story of the rest of our time another day.