I Would Never Do Any Of This These Days

I can’t quite recall how this memory surfaced from roughly three decades back.

I was spending the night in Bloomington, Indiana. Since I didn’t know anyone there, whatever I did wouldn’t risk being spotted by an acquaintance.

(1) Around 11 PM, I changed into white tights (to conceal my leg hair), fishnets, and a red skating dress—actually, it was a turtleneck leotard with an attached skirt. The collar had a lock in the back that secured to the zipper. I headed out to an all-night supermarket to buy some items, expecting quick service. However, there was a queue at the sole cashier. She gave me a peculiar glance but neither she nor anyone else said anything.

A few weeks later, a friend who used the internet (I wasn’t connected yet) mailed me something from with the note that it seemed right up my alley. It WAS indeed me! I located the street address of the author and sent her a letter signed as “my mistress,” suggesting she ought to have humiliated me by asking why I was dressed so unusually. There was no reply.

(2) Next, I added a gag and visited a McDonald’s near my motel. I handed the clerk an order for something on behalf of “my mistress.” At the bottom of the slip, I wrote something along the lines of “this way I know he won’t eat it before we get back.” Again, no humiliation.

(3) All of this really happened! Somehow, I discovered a local house that catered to men, mostly featuring girls modeling in their underwear. I left wearing my white tights and fishnets but swapped the skating dress for two shirts: one long-sleeved underneath another short-sleeved one. I told them I was applying for a job, explaining that Mistress (I forgot her name) from Indianapolis had sent me to apply. When they explained it was a club for male patrons, I said perhaps a woman might come in and want to watch. The head lady mentioned she hadn’t heard of this mistress but told me to go ahead and show my stuff; so I slowly stripped down to just a jockstrap while doing a little dance. They tried to stay respectful (ha ha) but eventually started laughing as I got dressed again. Finally, I received the humiliation I had been craving! [When I returned to Bloomington a few years later, that club was gone.]