I worked in an office from the ages of 24-30. During that time I finally developed a personal style that made me happy. I’d never liked the way dress pants sat on me so I fell into wearing dresses or pencil skirts and high heels. I cultivated an (office appropriate) naughty secretary look and it made me happy.
Achieving this look required the generous use of foundation garments. Happily freed from the girdles of our grandmother’s age, now we have control-top pantyhose and various styles of Spanx.
I’d squeeze everything in until I could barely breathe and then I was ready to go! I felt good about how I looked, which was something I’d long struggled with. In a way, the constriction felt freeing. I was wearing things I hadn’t thought I could get away with.
Fast forward a couple years; I quit my job, started working from home as a writer, and began spending time at kink events. What I learned after my very first play party at a local dungeon was that clothes go flying–and fast.
Sure, some people wear elaborate fetish outfits that include corsets or high-laced boots, but the overall impression was that people dressed for easy stripping.
Suddenly my plan for feeling sexy fell apart. There was no way I could strip for a spanking if it meant peeling off layer after layer of tight spandex. Not only was the process terribly unflattering but the support garments left unsightly seam lines on my body.
As I turned this over in my mind I noticed something. The people running around scantly clad were of all ages and body types. It wasn’t just young, skinny, fetish model types. There were people in their 50’s and above. People who would most certainly be pointed to the plus size sections of department stores. People with visible scars and other differences that the mainstream would consider imperfections. From the main room where people mingled, to the smaller rooms where people played, variety was everywhere.
And the most stunning thing? Everyone was happy. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen smiles so big. The feeling of joy was contagious. People were free to do what they loved, to be themselves, and there simply isn’t a better feeling than that.
Having learned my lesson, I showed up to the next event in nothing but a slip dress and panties. It was an event that offered tastings–a way to try different experiences. The dimly lit room had play stations that each glowed with enough lighting to play safely. All through the cavernous space people were trying new things while others watched.
Spread around the room were spanking benches, massage tables, St. Andrew’s crosses (an X-shape) and other equipment I couldn’t yet identify. I waited in line for the woman doing Florentine flogging (a rhythmic style with a flogger in each hand) and when it was my turn I pulled off my dress without shame and grabbed the cross in front of me so she could start.
Author with a flogger. Photo by Tony Lee.
It was amazing. Not just the flogging, which was lovely, but the feeling of being stripped down to my underwear in a room full of people and feeling okay with it.
I laughed and shrieked as the flogging commenced–not just because of the sensations but because of how great it felt to not worry about what people thought of me. If anyone was looking, it was because they were watching the scene, not because they were judging my body.
As one of my kinky friends likes to say, “Smile, we see each other naked.”