Monday, August 30, 2010

Rolling on a river

Master and I got to playing "I never" the other day...every time he lost, he took a sip of beer. Everytime I lost, I had to pose for another picture. The game turned out to be a mistake, I would learn was basically a sneaky way for Master to learn all the things I can't do. I soon would find myself doing them in embarrassing ways and circumstances.

This includes roller skating. I have no real sense of balance and quickly decided it was something I really didn't need to know back when I could have learned it.

Master disagreed. One sunny Tuesday, Master announced that he was going to correct this problem. I was dressed in my summer wear -- a strappy yellow tank top with a large painted white hibiscus on the front and denim short shorts with rolled cuffs. Master took me into the garage and had me sit in on the passenger seat with the door open...and it all went bad from there. Master strapped pink kneepads and elbow pads onto me, a tight pink helmet, and and black skates similar to this photo. New ones. He thoughtfully ran a chain through the straps, making sure that they were locked on. I was now unable to walk; I had to roll. Of course I was unable to roll also, so my means of movement were reduced to windmilling my arms for a few feet, falling down, getting up, and repeating the process.

It was clear what he was up to, and I knew better than to resist...pleading with Master would likely just worsen my situation, and I was in no hurry to attempt roller skating through a mall or some such. Instead, we arrived at a local community college with an expansive parking lot, barely filled. Master drove to one end of it, where a sad bench on its last moments sat under the tree. With Master's help, I wobbled over to the bench and finally sat down in relief. I was ready for my skating lesson....carefully protected in my pink safety gear.

The lesson was to learn by doing, it would turn out. Secure that I couldn't chase him, Master jumped back into the car and drove to the other extremity of the parking lot, about 200 feet away. He got out, and waved his arms in a very clear "come here" gesture.

I gingerly got off the bench, and promptly fell down. I picked myself up and cautiously rolled forward. There have been few times I've felt girlier than this moment. I had no choice but to act girlish -- the roller skates were locked on, and any attempt to make manly strides only dumped me on my rear. I am ashamed to admit that I perhaps whimpered a few times.

It was a weekday afternoon, and the number of people about was very small...maybe two or three in the parking lot and a couple dozen near the college buildings. Certainly, skating across and empty parking lot meant that few people were that close. However, the constant waving of limbs and the flashes of pink pads and helmet, mixing with my bright-colored clothing could only attract attention. Normally I would hope that people would remain too far to realize that I was a man, but in this instance it didn't even occur to me...I was just concentrating on getting to the car.

People did notice...a few people were watching, and a couple subtly pointed. Twice people started to walk over, but I waved my arms in an "I'm all right" motion. Clearly a few had noticed I was no girl, and that probably accounted for the cell phones held up in my direction. As a matter of fact, the girlie wear may have saved my dignity, as I was desperate enough that crawling across the parking lot occurred to me. But no way was I crawling on pink kneepads in public.

I'd like to say that at some point I figured it out, and was skating confidently over to Master. But I wasn't. With a little bit of luck, care to fall forward, and patience, I finally hauled myself into his car by the door handle. About ten minutes later I finally landed on the passenger seat, out of breath, I only had one question...

What else had I told him I couldn't do?

Sunday, August 29, 2010

New shoesies!

I need to get around to blogging about some of my recent adventures , and I will soon, I promise.

Although I'm not a big shoes person, I have to brag about my latest purchase...the cutest pair of pink Converse All-Stars! I know some of you are more into pantyhose and heels, but these shoes are so totally cute with a pair of tight jeans! I love them!

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Girl puppy play experience?

I was wondering if anyone else reads the excellent blog "The Joys of Being Leashed"? Written by a t* who also clearly enjoys submission, it's had on it some interesting photos of "puppy play", such as this one and this one. (I'm not going to steal them...just click on over.) I will warn you that many photos have male genitalia in them...not my thing, but worth the ones that don't.

Master finds the photos of these girls, hands taped up to be useless, ankles tied to their thighs so they can't unbend their legs while collared, leashed, and barely dressed to be quite...intriguing. though apart form my usual territory, I feel I may end up eating an occasional dinner from a doggy bowl at some point. Anybody else have experience with this?

Thursday, August 26, 2010

A Camping Education, Part I

"Hi, everyone! My name is Courtney, and I'm sure this is going to be an awesome weekend!"

With those words, Kevin's heart sank. It was bad enough that his family had cajoled and threatened him into coming on this weeklong trip to a campground far from his video games, tv, skateboard...heck, his cell phone didn't even get reception out here.

Worse still, this "camping vacation" was apparently going to be a camping vacation for his parents. After arriving on Friday night, and setting up the camper, Kevin learned that he and Lily, his younger brat of a sister, were being shipped off to a "young campers" overnight program.

"It'll be great, Kevin. Instead of hanging around here with us boring adults, you'll be with teenagers like you, meeting new people and just hanging out," his Dad described. With Mom nodding enthusiastically, Kevin had been deposited along with Lily first thing on Saturday morning. Mom and Dad left holding hands for the first time in years....

At first, things looked promising...aside from perky Courtney, the other members of the program were four girls between Lily's age (13) and his (17). Though the girls seemed uninterested, how they could they resist the only male within miles? Though his smiles were returned with frosty glares, Kevin knew time was on his side. He was the manliest thing around...

"Oh, silly me!" Courtney, perkily squeaked in mid-reverie! "I thought that form said Kayci! Ohh....well, you'll have fun with us, anyway Kevin! Sorry most everything is going to be girlish, but that's okay, right?" The general laughter halved whatever manhood Kevin thought he had, and quickly placed him in the "not dating" column in his fellow campers' eyes.

Not that Kevin acquitted himself well. Courtney had indeed planned a full morning and afternoon of activities...girlie activities. In addition to the awkwardness of making friendship bracelets elbow-to-elbow with a boy, Kevin's constant whining started to grate on the girls. "When are we going to do something fun?" he asked at one point. "Why is everything all sissy stuff?" Things went from bad to worse as Kevin began amusing himself by trying to leer down his fellow campers' shirts -- all except that of Imelia, who he'd dismissed as an obvious lesbian. After one rather obvious leer toward Riley, Kevin loudly announced his need to pee, farted to his own amusement, and assured "his ladies" that he'd be behind the nearest tree.

Of course, enough was enough even for kind-hearted Courtney. There was a quick whispered conference while Kevin urinated as loudly as he could, grunting all the while. A quick discussion and vote was taken. Duct tape was produced, as were a couple phone cameras. Fiona, the worst girly-girl of the group, headed back to her camper with Courtney for supplies.

In short, Kevin was behaving like a little nuisance, so the girls at the campground bandied together to 'reform' him. Though Imelia was in fact not a lesbian, she was an athlete whose strength outmatched Kevin. Despite some fuss, she easily held Kevin into the camp chair while the girls found a better use for the duct tape than making masks. Several bands wound around his arms and hands, making them useless, and his legs were similarly trapped. His hair went untouched...

Though Kevin initially responded through profanity, and sticking his tongue out, he was unnerved by the girls' placid response. They weren't fact, they were enjoying themselves a great deal. Their moods turned into outright glee when Fiona returned with a duffel bag and a smile. Trapped, in the chair, Kevin couldn't see everything that elicited their glee, being tortured by stray remarks from under the tent: "He's gonna look SO cute in that!" or "That looks so realistic!"

Lily got to do the honors, wielding a brush as Imelia and Riley carefully immobilized his head. His lips were smeared with a pale pink liquid three times over while Courtney surveyed some other tubes and liquids. Clearly some lipstick had just been placed on Kevin, but worst was the tube that Lily held out for him to read: "Guaranteed to last 48 hours...won't kiss off!"

And the color? "Single and Mingle"!

Okay folks, we're off and running...and now it's back to you. Look at the photo I've got lined up for part II at the right. Suggest a line that uses the photo and extends the story, and I'll use at least one. Maybe more than two people will do it this time! Why not join in the fun? How to extend Kevin's little education at the campground??

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

"It happens"

The other night, I walked into a subway dressed as "Ashlee". Cute pink Converse sneakers, tight, tight jeans, a mint green top that read "peace and love" and some jewelry. I'll give credit to the teenaged "sandwich artist" who made my order without batting an eyelash.

It was when her co-worker, about 17 herself, came out that the discussion began. Below is, as best as I can remember, a transcript. See if you find the same thing interesting as I did

Clerk 2: So, was this some kind of bet?
Me: Yeah, I lost a bet with my younger sister...these are her clothes...
Clerk 1: Yeah, it happens. You have to dress like this tonight?
Me: Yes, all day...
Clerk 1: Wow...I usually only made him wear them for a couple hours.
Clerk 2: My God, look! He's actually wearing a bra!
Clerk 1: Yeah, it happens...

So, aside from desperately wanting to follow up on what had happened to her brother (and would she like to continue with me?), I was charmed by her slight defensiveness on my behalf. Not the most thrilling humiliation, perhaps, but an indication that "I lost a bet" isn't as shopworn and watery an excuse as one may have thought...

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Glow girl

On a recent afternoon, I was a bit surprised to find a rather unisex outfit waiting for me. "We're going to the mall, dear, and I didn't want you to feel...awkward." Instead, I saw a medium blue t-shirt and black fabric shorts. Of course, they were both made for women, so the shirt clung to my frame a little, and a close eye could make out the outline of my bra. But there was no designs, logos, etc., to differentiate this outfit from anything else I wear. The shorts also clung to the legs a bit, but not so much that anyone would notice. Apparently, my time put into cheer practice was paying off.

The mall itself was rather typical of what I'd told you before, so I won't repeat the point. Salads, going through Wet Seal and Claire's, etc. I picked up a cute purse at Delia's. What was different this time was when Master stopped before "Glow Golf", an indoor miniature golf course whose whole shtick is extensive blacklighting to make neon obstacles "glow". Master told me to go inside and play 18 holes while he lounged on the bench.

Pretty soon the laughter started. I've learned through experience that in a public place, much of the time when you think people are laughing at you, they're not. But this time, the pointing and smiling was a bit much. I hurried through my 18, staring at myself all the while...sure my outfit was a bit unisex, but from hair to shoes, I was not all that feminine. When the cashier asked if I'd lost a bet I wasn't even sure what she was talking about.

It wouldn't become clear until that afternoon what had happened. Master had earlier obtained some paint that rather shows up in black light. It was blue and black, thus not very visible in normal light. However, as I began to go deep into the course, my back and rear began to glow. As I could see in the pictures, I'd spent 18 holes with the words "Justin Bieber's #1 fan" glowing on the back of my top, with "He rules!!" on my butt.

I was being a girliegirl and didn't even realize...

Sunday, August 22, 2010

This blog in one image

I'm sure Master would be proud (done via Wordle):

Saturday, August 21, 2010

A new story

I've decided to start a 5- or 6-part photo story soon. Each part will continue a plot and will include a photo from a set I found somewhere on line.

Below is the first photo. I challenge you, my readers to come up with a line that I could include in that part of the story. For example, were it a photo of a yo-yo, the line could be "Kevin would do anything to win the annual yo-yo contest", etc. I'm hoping for some creative ideas that I can use to incorporate into the story going forward.

Here's your inspiration picture, so get writing:

Thursday, August 19, 2010

What a cute shirt....

I think this is a totally sweet top and I want it....

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Dumb language

Master's projects are getting more and more esoteric.

His new thing is to teach my Spanish, but only the words "a girl like me" would know. So it's not just that I have to speak Spanish like a girl, but I truly won't know any other way.

I can't say many basic words, but I know what maquillaje, chiflado and falda are...

Sunday, August 15, 2010


If I seem unresponsive to your emails, I'm away for the week. I do have some stuff set to post automatically, but the real me isn't back till the 20th.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

If I could suggest...

One place where I like to spend a lot of time is Rachel's Haven. An excellent resource for captioned pictures, roleplay, and occasional fiction. My work there is under the handle "totalditz". Few of them reproduce well on blogger, but here's one..."sticking with lacrosse"...

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

What I don't get...

In roleplays, emails, and the like, it remains a mystery to me. People say that enjoy/want/hope for the same sort of situations that I do. They can detail their own fantasies. But any time I suggest that we actually do it -- take turns playing the Master -- they immediately quail "No, no, no I'm sub I can't do that." This is only a close second to those who agree to take turns, play the victim, and then run away from returning the favor.

I figure that few people want to be in charge all the time, and many of us would prefer to not be in charge at all in roleplays. But I don't see how doing nothing at all is better than doing something you don't want half the time. I accept that some people are all talk but want to play it safe. But that can't be everyone....can it?

Anyway, if that isn't you, email me about ideas for rps or rl stuff...

Monday, August 9, 2010

There are times...

I'm not sure how Master plans things or manages to create certain situations for me. Most of what I've related is clear enough to you, as I can construct a "why" and a "so then". There are times, though, where I end up in circumstances without knowing quite why or how they've arrived.

A recent example...

Last week, Master ordered me to go to a Claire's store in a mall several towns over. I was to arrive in possession of $50 worth of gift cards purchased at the local supermarket, sometime early on a weekday. Well, I took off on a Tuesday afternoon, arriving around 10am. The music hadn't even been turned on yet. I entered into Claire's so early that a major concern was stumbling over one of the unpacked boxes that littered the floor. (One favorite memory of Claire's was looking at their charms when charmbracelets were trendy, and finding a whole rack that said "I <3 bsoy"...)

Behind the register was a girl probably in her final years of college. She looked up, smiled slightly, and said "Oh, you must be Lenny. Come right on in. You have the gift cards?"

I gave the gift cards to the salesgirl, remembering Master's orders to treat her every request/command as if it were from him. Considering how connected he often seemed, I gathered it quite possible that any disobedience or hesitation would result in a report back to him, and severe consequences. Unsure of what was to come, I handed over the gift cards.

"Here, hold on to this."

With those words, a Claire's teddy bear -- mainly used to comfort girls about to have their ears pierced -- was thrust into my hand. Not knowing what to do, I held it as I was brought to a stool toward the back. A sleep mask that read "Leave Me Alone" was slipped over my eyes. Here I was in a public place, essentially blindfolded and clutching a teddy bear.

The voice of another woman, older from the sound, soon joined. "So this is him, huh? Well, I put the stuff under the counter next to the register tape." Some things were moved around, and I started getting some sort of...makeover...right there in the store! I could feel necklaces draped around my neck, different substances being smeared on my face and lips, the stink of nail polish as it was applied to my fingers, and so on. A hat of some sort was sandwiched unceremoniously on my head, some sort of strap in my hand. A purse I would soon learn. Occasional flashes told me the ever-present camera was recording this moment for prosperity.

And twenty minutes later, just as suddenly as it began, the makeover ended. The blindfold came off and the same salesgirl merely smiled and said "Thanks for coming by...I hope you're pleased with your purchases. Have a lovely day." With that clear note of dismissal, I wandered off, unaware of what I even looked like. Glancing at what reflective surfaces I could find while avoiding eye contact with fellow mall-workers, it was clearly a haphazard job. My nails were a bright, almost florescent pink. The hat was a sparkly denim beret. My lips were peach. My shorts and t-shirt were unmistakably male.

It was a bizarre, almost random makeover. Nothing matched, nothing evinced any particular personality, not even the one Master had trained me to adopt. It was just...bizarre. I was so deep into mystification that the ribbing of a couple teenagers barely pierced my reflection.

After all this, I arrived in Master's home. I walked through the door, an he took one look at me. He sneered and said "get rid of that ridiculous stuff...except the small necklace, I like it. Change into something decent."

Maybe someday I'll hear the rest of the story.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

"You didn't make him do anything!"

Unlike much of this blog, what you will read in this post is non-fiction. I didn't italicize the whole thing, but consider it so.

Every once in a while, I feel compelled to take some time to make a drive around, maybe set myself up for some humiliation. Let me begin by telling you how I was attired...

I was wearing the shirt on the right over a blue bra stuffed with water balloons. The bra was somewhat visible under the shirt. On top was a heart-shaped pendant in a purple and black leopard pattern. On my right wrist were four plastic beaded bracelets in pink, blue, and white.

I was wearing a denim miniskirt with a ripped hem over a pair of black capri-length leggings. I was wearing denim girls' skater shoes. Oh, and a pink should-length wig.

So I stop and wash my car, about a ten-minute process, before driving past a pizza shop. I take down the number, and place a call after hacking for about 5 minutes to alter my voice. This is the call that I placed:

CashierL "Hello, XXX pizza, XXX speaking. Pick-up or delivery?"
Me: "Pick-up please."
"What can I get for you?"
"Just an order of bread sticks."
"Okay, what's the name?"
"Candy?'ll be ready in ten minutes."
"One more thing. Just so you know, Candy is a guy who actually lost a poker game, so he's gonna be dressed in his sister's clothes. Part of the bet is he has to do anything any girl tells him to, so feel free to make do a little dance for you or something."
"Ooookay....I'll keep that in mind."

The cashier sounded to be in high school or college, which usually is the best for finding someone with a latent interest in seeing and humiliating feminized men.

So about eight minutes later, I pull up, refreshen my lip gloss (can you believe I forgot my purse!?) and I see two young women, one obviously a worker at the pizza place, lounging in front of it. There's no customers inside. I get out and walk up.

" must be Candy." She lets me in, friend following. And would you believe that all she wanted to talk about while I waited was what hand I had in poker? I made up having a full house brought down by a straight, etc., and that was it. I finally get the breadsticks, and pay.

Just as I'm leaving, I hear the friend say to the cashier in some outrage "you didn't make him do anything!" Which pretty well matched my sentiments. So I waited, pinwheeled, and re-entered claiming that I needed a receipt to prove that I'd actually bought the stuff myself. While it's printing, do the cashier or friend order me to do anything? No!

So the exposure was fun, and I still have the receipt that is headed with "Candy for pick-up"...but it could have been better. And that's what I did this past weekend.

Monday, August 2, 2010

"Anne the Geek"

Very few tg/tv/cd/we stories stick with me for more than a half hour, so the ones that do are valuable. In that spirit, I'd point you to "Anne the Geek", wherein the protagonist is so eager for humiliation he doesn't just go for being a girl, but being a geeky girl. It's available over at Fictionmania. It doesn't lend well to picking out small passages, but here's an excerpt:

"No. I'm not Jack. I'm Anne."
"Jack Smith?" Her horror grew.
"Cut the shit, you perv. What's going on here? What happened to you?"
I explained everything to her. She shook her head as I finished and
said, "I can't believe I dated you."
"Well, you didn't know?"
"How could you not tell me you're gay?"
I froze and said, "I'm not. I just want to be a woman. I guess it
would be fair to say that I'm more of lesbian."
"Spare me, Jack. You want to be a woman. You're gay."
"Please don't tell anyone, Lisa," I pleaded.
"Oh, I won't, but only if you do something for me, Anne."

Sunday, August 1, 2010


Another day, another new way to be degraded and locked into the "girl I really am", as Master calls me.

It was about noontime and I had just finished dusting the main room for Master, part of my many chores, when he told me we were going to do something new as a reward. I was told to put my hands behind my back, and I naturally complied. Master cuffed my hands behind me, then blindfolded me. We walked downstairs slowly where I sat down, and felt a chain locked onto my ankle. It's true my heart was I was unable to see, use my hands of clearly move that far. I was clearly being set up for something horrific.

It was lunch.

Master fed me a steady stream of Saltines. Blindfolded, I'd no idea why, but with some encouragement I ate about eight in a row. Then came what seemed a stupid question..."are you thirsty, princess?" I nodded my head. "Really?" "Yeth," I replied. Well, Master helped me stand up and shuffle a few feet, and brought me over to a sheet of paper surrounding a small spout..."just lap up the water you need princess..." A couple touches of my tongue, and it was clear -- Master was making me drink from a small water bottle, the kind you put upside down in a hamster cage! I could hear camera sounds as I pressed up against the spout, nose right on the paper, lapping up the water. With the chain on my ankle taut, it was clear this was going to be my only source for water. Naturally I had questions about the setup and I could tell it was somehow degrading, but I didn't dare ask to see what was going on.

How strange!

Master sat me down again, and fed me more crackers! Just when I thought I couldn't get any thirstier, another was crammed into my mouth...and another. At least 12 saltines! I was parched, and desperate for water. Master once asked if I was thirsty...I said I was...really I was...I really, really was thirsty and had no problems drinking water same as before. And that's when Master took the blindfold off.

I had been drinking out of a water bottle, yes. But the nub of the spout poked right through a poster of my current celebrity crush, right at the mouth. As Master gleefully showed me from the camera, to drink the water I so desperately needed, I would have to be all appearance furiously make out with this poster.

I was humiliated. I was thirsty. I was thinking this wouldn't be the last time. So I got up and starting licking as the camera started clicking.