Panties, and gender roles

I was reading Lion’s entry on being forced to wear frilly panties and the humiliation that causes him, and that got me thinking about deep-rooted sexism in our society. That’s not a particularly original thought, to be sure. I figured I might as well blog about it anyway and see where I am at with it.

Lion had this to say:

My view is that the reason I am embarrassed is that  being discovered would make me different and inappropriate. The political issue of women being free to dress in male clothes and men humiliated by wearing women’s clothes is a longstanding  sexism issue. I definitely didn’t choose to address that.

So there’s “violating societal norms”, and the embarrassment that stems from that, and “violating gender norms”. And then there’s the whole “men who dress in women’s clothes aren’t real men” thing, which is where the sexism comes in.

What a mess. I’m not sure I can untangle this in my own mind.

Personally, I own frilly panties and love them. I’m not embarrassed by them. To the contrary, I feel sexy and empowered and desirable in them. And definitely very male.

This might be simpler for me because I am (for all intents and purposes) gay, and so “violating societal and gender norms” kinda comes with the territory.

Yay me, right? But not so fast. Bear recently mentioned he wanted to pick out clothes for me, and my first response after “yes Sir” was to make sure he didn’t mean he was going to pick out women’s clothes for me. I had to be reassured. Because that would be embarrassing.

And I can’t figure out exactly whether that’d be embarrassing because I am violating societal and gender norms, or because it’d make me less of a man somehow. I want to say the former and not the latter, that I could run around in what’s widely considered “women’s clothes” – as long as the cut is male and fits my body well, obviously, who wants to wear dumpy stuff – and feel just as male and empowered. And I’m not sure that’s so. I don’t know that I’ll find out, either, because the “draw stares by violating societal norms” awkwardness / shame would be too great.

I don’t have any great insights, other than that I’d encourage people to be a little “different and inappropriate”. Within reason.

Frilly panties – they are no more inappropriate than boxer shorts while not visible in public, and just as inappropriate when visible. That’s a safe one. They’re sexy, so go right for it.

A dog rope collar – I wear one all the time, but I stopped wearing it to work or when socializing with colleagues. I got a few “what the hell dude” comments, and decided it was less than professional to wear, even under a dress shirt, or even when in casual wear but still during a work-related function. Outside of work, strangers always ignore the thing or will give a “that’s so cool” compliment, and my friends mostly ignore the thing, and a few have commented because they are curious. I tell them it means exactly what they think it means, and that’s usually as far as it goes. So if you’re wondering whether you can wear a collar in public – you can.

Those are safe expressions of individuality. I’d love for men to be able to wear more colorful clothes and more types of clothes. “Be the change you want to see in the world,” I know. Maybe if I achieve Fuck You Money or retire, but until then, I care too much about what that might mean professionally.

In the meantime, the best I can do is be aware of when I’m embarrassed, acknowledge there’s likely an element of sexism in it, because one simply cannot escape this shit, and do my best to not feed that element of sexism.

What are your experiences with wearing clothing that doesn’t conform to gender norms? And how hard do you believe we should think about this stuff?



August’s been a month of changes. For starters, Bear wants me to write a monthly recap. And he’ll do a bit of fetish photography each month, which is a hobby he’s been wanting to get into but that daily life always seems to get in the way of.

I’ve been wearing the collar Bear picked out for me a lot. Has it only been two weeks since that arrived? I have been wearing it most every day. It comes off when we have guests or leave the house, and Bear puts it back on me sometime during the evening, sometimes earlier. When the snap closes, I feel submission settling over me like a mantle. Our relationship is evolving, and I think the collar plays a big role.

Bear is unconcerned with our daughter seeing me in the collar, and she has not asked about it. I think Bear’s more relaxed attitude has a lot to do with our daughter having turned 18 earlier in the year.

She has in recent months expressed curiosity about our private lives, by exclaiming “I don’t want to know!” I’m respecting her and our right to privacy, and am not volunteering. Last year, she had asked me once why I brought breakfast to Bear every day. I explained that I did that because both Bear and I enjoyed it, and that it gave us a chance to be together for a moment in the morning before our busy lives take us out of the house for the day. All of which is true. Saying any more than that would have been out of line, I feel. That said, I’m sure she has connected the dots by now.

I had asked Bear, after he had gotten me the collar, how he felt about seeing it on me. He said he wasn’t quite ready to share. Fair enough. I in turn was feeling things wearing the collar, and wasn’t quite ready to share yet, either.

A week or so later, Bear told me that we “needed to figure out” what the collar meant. I thought “to figure out” was an active process, and so I started asking a bunch of questions, and annoyed Bear with that.

The next day, I picked back up: But with a different tack. “What does “to figure out” mean?” I asked Bear. “Is that an active process or a passive one?”
I didn’t get my meaning through immediately, and got a “what, more questions?” reaction. With some perseverance, I managed to tell Bear what I meant. For me, “to figure out” is very active. It means, in this context, to explore by talking. It turns out what Bear meant by it was to “sit with it and see how it feels,” a more passive and introspective process. Which is fine by me. Years ago, I couldn’t have asked the right question, and would probably have been upset that Bear wanted to figure something out and then was not willing to talk. Now, at least I knew not to assume that my reading of “to figure out” is identical to Bear’s.

Dog Collar

No, that’s not my collar :).

I feel more submissive when wearing Bear’s collar. It’s a constant presence, and a very powerful symbol. It’s snug around my neck, with a little more than one finger’s width of play. When my neck muscles contract, the collar offers resistance. And so, I may feel a warm submissive glow at the oddest of times, such as when eating lunch: Because the movement of my neck muscles while chewing and swallowing means the collar “grips” me around the throat. When Bear grips me around the throat, I melt in a puddle of submissive goo. This is but a faint shadow of that – and a powerful reminder.

Bear has become more demanding and commanding. Shortly after the collar arrived, he gave me some simple commands – “undress me”, “suck me off”, “strip for me.” I enjoyed it greatly and obeyed with as much grace as I could muster. After, Bear wanted reassurance: He asked me whether it was okay that he was demanding. I laughed. It’s more than okay. It’s wonderful. It’s what I want.

I asked Bear whether he wanted a verbal acknowledgement of his commands. He said yes, he would like that. So now, when he commands me, I reply with “Yes, Sir.” That’s new. I had not been allowed to address Bear as “Sir” or “Master” before. He’s enjoying the “Sir”.  For me, it’s a learning curve. Sometimes I will forget to acknowledge a command and simply obey wordlessly. That will come with time.

In the past, Bear insisted that he was not my Master, mainly because of our failed attempt at D/s 14 years or so ago. At the same time that me saying “you are not my Master” when we were discussing our relationship gave him a jolt. I asked Bear how he stood with that now. He says he’s “evolving.”

We’ve discussed marking me permanently. Bear thinks a PA is hot, and impractical. He doesn’t like the risk of urinary track infections, and the fact that it would change the way I piss. He thinks a frenum piercing may be more practical. All of that is just idle discussion right now.

Bear told me it was “too bad” that I couldn’t wear the collar while at work. I’ve been giving that some thought. A somewhat-practical idea would be to dress more conservatively: A shirt with a wider-than-necessary collar and a tie. A more practical idea may be a metal collar that looks like jewelry. He likes the “Talena” neck ring, and pointed out that we can’t afford it right now.

I’ve always been free to expose myself to Bear whenever I wanted. I really enjoy seeing his hand on my cock, not just feeling it there. The last time I folded the covers back, Bear told me that this felt odd to him. He wanted me to ask for permission to “present yourself”, as he put it. So I put the covers back in place and asked for permission: “May I present myself, Sir?”

This was difficult for me. I felt a momentary resistance to acting that way. It’s more submissive, and more humbling, than what I have been used to. A part of me really didn’t want to go there. I have had occasion to ask for permission to present myself a few times since, and it’s getting easier bit by bit. If I were to take a grand view – and boy am I prone to do that – I’d say I was molding myself into a more submissive husband.

I’ve been struggling with feeling horny and needy all the time. I’ll have an erection several times a day, and when Bear touches my chest or belly, I’ll get hard. That’s usually as far as it goes, and I am left with an aching need to be teased. This isn’t new, but for some reason, I’ve been having a harder time than usual with the concept of it, with the thought that this is my normal state. That feeling sated and not horny is going to be a rare exception once every few months, and not last longer than half an hour, maybe a few hours tops. It’s humbling to be at Bear’s mercy for pleasure, and to be that desperate for any attention and touch he may give me. The “thunder shirt” helps.

Full circle then to the beginning of the post: How do we both feel about the collar, now that it’s been on me for 3 weeks or so?

Bear says that I act noticeably more submissive towards him when I wear the collar, and that he enjoys that. Also, the collar makes him feel less awkward when he gives me a command.

I feel like I have closure, finally. As I’ve mentioned a few times in this blog, we tried an Owner / pet relationship when we first met. We had a collaring ceremony, and then we moved together, and it didn’t work out. Bear didn’t know what to do with a collared husband, and I felt hurt and neglected, and I didn’t know how to communicate that, nor did Bear know how to hear me, or how to talk about his own struggles. We’ve worked through this, we’ve had years of relationship therapy and learned how to talk openly and vulnerably with each other. I’ve forgiven Bear, and he says he has felt forgiven for about a year, now.

And, I didn’t have closure, not fully, until now. What we are building now is the kind of relationship I have wanted all along. I feel like Bear is fulfilling the promise he made to me 14 years ago. And that gives me closure. I can finally let go of the old hurt. I love how this phase of our relationship feels, and I revel in every challenging moment when I learn to submit more deeply to Bear.

We are not Master and pet. And I predict we will be, as Bear is “evolving” and as I learn to submit, and as we figure out what “Master and pet” means to us, now.


For me? Really?!?

My new collar arrived. Bear is out, getting peppers for a home-made Frank’s Red Hot clone. I can’t wait for him to come back home.

So, wait what? This weekend, Bear wanted to fuck me. I asked him whether he wanted to leash me, as well, and he said yes he would. Using the collar I made some 14 years ago, which recently came out of the toy chest again. And which I’ve since cleaned up. That was Verdigris on there, ya’ll, and a big shout-out to the leatherworker’s group on Fetlife who helped me figure out how to clean it.

That was a really good fuck. One of the most intense ones I ever experienced. Maybe because I was wearing ball weights at the time, maybe because it had been 11 weeks since I last came, maybe because Bear was using the leash to give him leverage and I was leaning into the collar for all I was worth – or a combination of all of the above and it being a nice Sunday.

So, after, when it came time to shower, and then take a nice bubble bath after the shower, the collar had to come off, of course. It being leather. And I asked Bear: “Would you be interested in a collar that can stay on for a shower or bath?” And he said: “That’s just what I had been thinking!”

Ah yeah. Believe you me you did not have to tell me twice. I found a few options online, and Bear picked out a Ruffwear Headwater collar. A dog collar rather than a fetish one, and I find that quite appropriate, given where we are now in our relationship and play. Said collar just arrived, and did I mention I’m all but bouncing around the house?

I’m really glad the old collar came out again and we got to make some good memories with it, after all the hurt I had associated with it before. I am and always will be associating a collar with being owned, with being Bear’s pet. I get and fully accept that to him (qualifier “right now”, and yeah, that qualifier is in my mind), this is just play. I’m good with that, as he is good with the fact that to me, it’s more than just play.

Bear, incidentally, later commented that he was surprised how much leverage the leash gave him, and that he really enjoyed being able to thrust hard without having to put so much work in. I love hearing that. It gives me what I want – a collar – while giving pleasure to Bear. Doesn’t get better than that.

Ah, and because it’s the done thing, I believe: I came today. 11 and a half weeks since last time. We had a frot session not unlike this one, with the difference that there was no way I was going to get Bear off without coming. It wasn’t the same for him when I took my cock out, so I told him that if I kept going and got him off, I’d come. He decided he wanted that. More than A-OK by me. The orgasm itself was intense and I made quite the mess.

He checked in with me a few hours later to ask whether that had upset me. Hell No. I kink on my orgasm being controlled by Bear, and on being obedient to him. That means long-ish denial periods right now, but it could also mean coming frequently whenever he wants me to, and I am equally fine with both. Though I am happy that I had the chance to last for 11+ weeks and prove that I can be obedient past the 7-week mark.

I don’t feel any “post-orgasm funk”, in fact I was horny again 30 minutes later. In no way do I mean to diminish the experiences of those men who have a hard time for a few days after coming – and I am glad I don’t seem to be among them.


The Red Hot Clone is simmering on the stove, and once Bear was no longer busy, I came in with collar and leash in my mouth and knelt. He grinned and put the collar on me, and I had the same butterflies I had 14 years ago when he first collared me. It’s comfortable and he really likes the way it looks. I’m hard and happy. Don’t ask me why I put so much stock in this symbol – all I know is that I do.



Ropes and a collar, oh my

There’s been a bit more rope play around here lately, and I’m enjoying it greatly. Mostly having my hands tied and pulled over my head secured to the headboard, maybe a bit of cock bondage, and being humped by Bear. Last time he did this, he teased me close to orgasm, and as I got closer and wriggled and moaned, I was getting ready to beg – beg him not to make me come, although my body wanted nothing but. When he let off, I let out a big huff and relieved “thank you.” It looked like he understood what I had thanked him for.

I spelled it out a bit later anyway, in the name of good communication – oh who am I kidding, because I love talking about my denial. As we were basking, he asked me about the far-away look I got for a moment. I told him I was hoping and fantasizing that he’d take his time before he let me come. Maybe until his birthday, I said. He gave a little laugh, a bit surprised I think. Or maybe until our next anniversary, I said. He didn’t react further, and I didn’t press. Those two dates are 5 months and a year from when I last came. Right now it’s been a bit over 5 weeks.

Hubris, with my history of self-control? Maybe. On the other hand, I’m not going to improve my record of obedience if I don’t dream and stretch myself. And I am genuinely curious whether chastity will feel different to me after months than it does after weeks.

When I feel the urge to pleasure myself in the ways that had me coming before, I think “horny and obedient” to myself. Corny as it is, it works right now. What I feel when Bear is teasing me is shifting. My body feels the urgent need for orgasm. I feel both the desire to come and the desire not to, to please Bear by obeying and staying horny. The desire not to come is getting stronger with time. Behavior modification works, what can I say.

A few weeks ago, I walked in on Bear, knelt with a leash in my hand – I had thought about carrying it in my mouth, but then I couldn’t have spoken – and asked him whether he’d like to gag and fuck me. Much to my delight, he did just that a little later in the day. What I hadn’t expected was that he told me to get the collar out. The very same collar that he put on me some 14 years ago, that was the symbol of my promise to obey and his promise to own me, and that I gave back to him when that attempt ended in hurt feelings and tears. He fastened it around my neck, leashed me to the headboard, and humped me enthusiastically while I was lying face-down and drooling into the pillow.

I can’t help myself, I saw all sorts of significance in that. Though I know that he was just playing. After, I told Bear that I couldn’t help but dwell on the symbolism. He told me that was fine by him, as long as I was fine with the fact that for him, this was just a bit of play. I told him I was fine by that. I am. And still I am hopeful.

That collar is in bad shape – some form of green gunk, not sure whether it’s from the rivets I used when I made it or from the glue. I’ll get it cleaned up. And it barely, barely fits me any more. There’s a gap. Bear quipped that might give me incentive to lose weight. Hrmph.