R/L: Uniform, Role-play, and Stepping out of My Comfort Zone

I’ve mentioned uniforms in all three of my posts so far (and my story!), but if you have known me during my time in the scene, my previous blogging, even my video work, that would probably surprise you. It surprised me, too! Well, sort of. I think what surprised me was my willingness to say it out loud and acknowledge it. I always maintained that I wasn’t into uniforms. After all, I wasn’t into role-play, didn’t like it, and what other purpose could they serve? School girl uniforms are ubiquitous in the spanking community. You’ll see a version of them everywhere – there are hundreds of videos featuring school girl uniforms from the suggestive, to the more-or-less realistic variety (though rare is a proper, formal, regulation uniform in a spanking video or even in the immersive role play events). The tone tends suggestive – we are talking about sexy schoolgirls here. Cute school girls. Skirts can be pink or purple, shirts are probably still white, knee socks may be rainbow, and the shoes likely have a heel. Fairly consistent are the pigtails – usually ponytails but sometimes braids.

This version of a uniform, does not appeal to me. It feels like a costume and to me, a costume means pretending to be someone else, or acting. In other words, it’s role-play and I truly have never been able to wrap my head around role-play. I understand for some people it’s a powerful venture into fantasy, but I feel most comfortable playing as myself. I have plenty of fantasies, of course, but they more often have to do with tone and how I feel after a spanking, than assuming a role during a spanking. Thus, I always found it easy to say it wasn’t my thing because the only context I had, genuinely wasn’t. I didn’t quite have the language to talk about my relationship to discipline and the importance of clothing (as briefly mentioned in my previous post) to that. Could I imagine a specific outfit worn for punishment or discipline? Yes – but to me, that was usually just a simple t-shirt or pajamas, white panties; or more striking – something very formal, a conservative and modest dress perhaps – the common denominator being that it was specific and decided in advance. The formality of specific clothing being tied to discipline had always been there, I just didn’t have the vocabulary or context to talk about it.

I used to imagine meeting someone for discipline in an outfit picked out entirely by them and it often included things I would never wear in my day-to-day life – often something I actively disliked wearing or felt uncomfortable (ie. exposed) in. This never happened, I couldn’t quite get there in a lot of ways but especially with the discipline – real-life didn’t work and pretend wasn’t appealing. What did I do instead? I sought out the physical intensity without the headspace. It seemed safer to push myself physically, than emotionally – and it worked because I am actually a masochist to some degree. I enjoy being spanked – but there’s definitely room in my head for spankings I don’t like. I like hard spankings, I enjoy being marked by someone if I am close enough to want to play intensely with them. I want to feel it.

So where did uniforms come from? I had been thinking about it for a while when the previously mentioned Target collaboration caught my attention. It seemed to just be the right moment at the right time, and I reached out to the only friend I knew who truly appreciated a real uniform – he was more than happy to talk to me about and through it. But it’s still difficult for me to write about uniform without first explaining what does not work for me and my spanking kink, and that’s bratting. I know this is just as common and popular within the spanking community as role-play is, and it’s unappealing (TO ME) for similar reasons. It doesn’t feel like me because I’ve never been like that. I have always wanted to be good. Role-play feels like I am not myself and bratting feels like I am being manipulative and also not being true to myself since my natural inclination is to be good. That’s not to say there isn’t room for cheekiness or naughtiness, but I have to feel very comfortable and safe with someone to go there. I have to know that they know it isn’t meant to manipulate or provoke specifically, but is rather just part of my personality that it feels safe to express – and I’d never do it with someone I wasn’t comfortable with smacking me! I’ve seen bratting, group bratting, “bus throwing” and similar get out of hand at parties and make me and others feel uncomfortable. I prefer more explicit consent and negotiation. For pickup play? It can just be for fun – no pretext needed.

So if I’m not into bratting/provoking spankings in that way and real-life discipline doesn’t really have a place right now, how on earth do I get the kind of spanking I want, that combines with headspace to be discipline and get there? Uniform. Last week I wrote an essay for Paul (yes, in a scene) titled, “The Importance of Uniform Discipline for a Good Girl Like Me.” In truth, it wasn’t very good. I fell into the bad habit of starting to write without thinking and hoping it would all come to me as I did so. I got repetitive just to meet the word count without really thinking about what I was saying. So I re-wrote it and I think sharing it here will explain myself the best I can, both the concept of the uniform itself as discipline and the uniform making discipline overall, accessible to me. I made very slight edits to bring it from personal essay, to public blog.

o0o

My first thoughts of uniform were connected with control. Being told to wear (or be put in) a uniform, especially a real one with some strictness and attention to detail, is about a very specific kind of control and personal choice that I am usually unwilling to give up in everyday life. It’s that point of giving up control that was so appealing. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might actively enjoy the uniform itself – as in, not just enjoy not liking it. Not liking it was very appealing to me. I suppose in terms of the clothing I typically wear, I don’t like it. When I say I enjoy the uniform, it’s a bit more complicated than the words imply.

In reality, I dislike long sleeves, anything with a high or even normal crew-neck neckline, stiff or scratchy fabrics, skirts, socks, closed toed shoes. Um. Imagine a nervous laugh here! All of those things, however, are what make the uniform feel like strict discipline and that it is so visible, that someone will see me like that and know what it signifies, that is what I enjoy. Putting it on and making sure it’s immaculate, I enjoy that. Looking in the mirror as I tie my tie smartly and snugly, make sure my shirt is neatly tucked or my sash is nice and flat, my pleats aren’t messy, my socks are (more or less) straight and pulled up, my braids are smart with nicely tied ribbons, is a process I enjoy. I like knowing I’ve done it properly. I like knowing the standards are high – the structure of it, and if I fall short of those, there will be consequences. It’s what makes it discipline.

Of course, I didn’t know I’d enjoy it in this way until I did it for the first time. Doing it for someone else’s enjoyment and the idea that they would enjoy my discomfort with wearing a uniform, worked for me (and I know me not liking it would not have been inconsistent with his kink!). It would have been enough. And of course, it’s still uncomfortable for me, so that element is not lost.

But I like it and wearing my uniform feels very right.

When I begin to put on my uniform – piece by piece, interestingly, usually in the same order – my whole body seems to respond. I start with my shirt, and buttoning it up (all but the top) begins to set the tone. The tone of a headspace where soon, I am not going to be in control – not of my uniform, physically, not of my time. It begins my thinking about authority and mindful obedience. Usually by the time my shirt is buttoned up, my heart is beating very quickly. Next, I usually braid my hair – I usually do this next and not first, because putting my shirt on after has snagged my ribbons before when I’ve done them first. Then, my socks so that bending down doesn’t prematurely wrinkle my skirt. The skirt is next and making sure my shirt is tucked and flat takes a moment. The last clothing item, is my panties or knickers. Then t-bars, nicely polished and buckled. Maybe my mouth is dry by the next item because of what it signifies. Absolutely last, is my tie. Partially because it takes the longest to get just right and because once it’s on, I can’t touch it or my collar and there’s a small sense of prolonging that. Once it’s done, the uniform feels complete – my part, so to speak, is done. This is why having an adjusted uniform feels like further discipline – even chastisement. It’s not necessarily an incomplete uniform (even though the tie makes it feel complete – I know this is a contradiction) without the tie, but I love the detail of the tie and feeling it over the button and knowing it’s there and visible – it’s like a center piece of the uniform and without it, I feel even more exposed.

Each piece of my uniform contributes to putting me in the headspace of a disciplined girl, and being good is part of that. Not touching my collar and tie is part of being good and obedient so I want to do it last to help me be good in that sense. I never have a defiant urge to touch my collar or tie but with how snug and stiff it is, it can be habit to want to touch and adjust. It’s not about being naughty and caught or punished. It’s about being good and seen and the uniform emphasizes that by highlighting the fact that I am an adult dressed like (but importantly, not pretending to be) a child who is subject to the authority of another and within that space, is without choice. A visual signifier of the control I’ve given up. The uniform is important because it helps establish and maintain that headspace while also acting as physical discipline because of how strict (snug, fitted, specific) it is and feels on my body. There are rules and structure to the uniform itself. Being in uniform even without any sort of physical CP like spanking, makes me feel disciplined and subject to discipline.

Importantly, it also reminds me that I don’t have to be such a big girl all the time and being subject to the control (or authority) of another person is comforting from that perspective. I can give up control and I don’t have to act like a grown up right then. I am, but I can capture that feeling from childhood of being taken care of and knowing I am safe, wrapped up in the strictness of the uniform, and having handed control over to another person. If just for a bit. And none of it is pretend. I get to be this pure (unmasked?) form of myself. I may be an adult but I’m not in charge, just like a child wouldn’t be.

That’s why uniform discipline is important for a good girl like me. It allows me to be a good girl, to feel little even, and still access the discipline, attention, and feelings of being looked after and dealt with, that I crave – the discipline, attention, and feelings that usually only naughty girls get because they’ve been naughty. As a reaction to being naughty. Because being naughty doesn’t actually feel good, uniform discipline meets my needs while making me feel good about myself. It’s entirely positive.

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I hope that explains the core of it, because I will probably write more about uniform in the future. The original essay was written while I wore a very smart uniform. The one in the photo below. The reason this is all out of my comfort zone is because for the better part of 16 years I’ve played in a very specific way – that I enjoy! But it’s clearly not the entirety of my spanking kink and I was doing myself a disservice by ignoring it. There’s nothing actually wrong with not engaging part of my kink but this part that I so desperately wanted to engage, seemed unaccessible – partly because I never gave it much chance. Uniform opened it up for me, and look what happened – I like it. I benefit from it, beyond satisfying my kink needs.

I’m so happy I did!

-M