Pampered Penny

Wardrobe, but especially shoes and socks, are really important to my regression process. I’m guessing I’m alone on this one, but I thought I would do a post about it anyway.

When I was a child, my mother was very strict about clothing and I both loved and hated it. What I hated were the legging-and-t-shirt sets that I had to wear almost every day. I hated that my mom forced me and my sister to dress up when no one else had to so that we stuck out and couldn’t play. I hated that she wouldn’t let me cut my hair into a bob.

But what I loved were the shoes and hosiery that we had to wear. There were only a few forms of approved footwear: for formal occasions and church in the winter, we had to wear black patent shoes with a strap that could go over the top of our foot or around the back of our ankle; to the beach and to church in summer, we had to wear white Saltwater sandals–no other color was ever allowed; for school, we were allowed either black Converse sneakers or black-and-white saddle shoes. I remember having one pair of light-up sneakers, but that was the only variation allowed. I remember once begging for a pair of brown penny loafers, but no dice.

We were in ruffled ankle socks until we were five and plain white socks after that. White or pink tights were also allowable. I remember that they always used to slip down until I got a South African nanny who bought us a bunch of extra panties to wear over them so that they would stay up, and the hell I caught when my mom discovered that I was skipping the inner layer of underwear.

I still use that trick, actually. I have special, ruffled panties, mostly high-waisted, that I wear over my tights and pantyhose, instantly turning them into rhumba tights. I think it weirds out my partners, but I think it’s cute and it’s certainly practical, so I do it anyway.

So it may sound odd, but my clothes were very important when I was a child. I fought like hell to be able to wear jeans to school one day a week, when I had my horseback riding lesson. The rules became much more lax once I turned twelve, but were still there. I was allowed to wear almost any kinds of shoes that I wanted, I was allowed to wear jeans whenever I pleased, and could draw on, cut, patch, and stud my clothes as I saw fit, so long as I didn’t wear too much black or show too much skin.

If anything, I probably would have liked to have less control over my clothes, though of course so long as my mom made the choices that I wanted her to. The legging-and-t-shirt sets were really quite awful, but I remember that at one of the schools I went to there was a girl who always wore a plaid jumper, button-down, knee socks, and mary janes. We weren’t really friends and I wasn’t at her school long, but I used to dream about her and her clothes. One day I finally asked her what was going on with her wardrobe. She told me that her mom bought them from some uniform store, which confused me because, well, the rest of us weren’t in uniforms (though I did go to a few schools that required uniforms and still have mine) and she wore a different uniform each day. Still, I thought that her clothes looked sharp and I wished that I was in a uniform, too.

That control over wardrobe really makes me feel childish again. I feel the lack of choice, but I also feel pride in myself. What got me thinking about this is that I bought my first adult pair of Saltwater sandals today. They certainly do make me feel little and cute, though I couldn’t resist getting them in fire-engine red rather than white. Suck on that, mom! :p

My girlfriend asked me recently why I like diapers and I thought, you know, that would make a great post. Of course I don’t think it matters WHY anyone likes diapers, anymore than it matters why someone likes breasts or fried chicken or the color blue. It’s rather missing the point. However, because diapers are such a rare fetish, it might help to be able to put it into words.

My girlfriend isn’t really into diapers, but I think she realizes that they aren’t the horrible, crazy fetish that a lot of people might imagine them to be. If I break down the specific things that I like about them, I can see a lot of parallels between diaper fetishism and, say, stocking fetishism or high heel fetishism or any other fetish object really. When I think of my interest in the act of changing, I can see parallels between my fetish and other fetish acts, like smoking a cigarette or shaving one’s legs.

So, I thought I would break down my explanation into two parts: why I like the physical object, and why I like the process associated with it.

Why I Like Diapers

• The plastic of disposables is soft and has a distinctive smell that I associate with romance and eroticism.
• The plastic of plastic pants is soft and has a distinctive smell that I associate with romance and eroticism.
• The crinkle sounds are subtle and sweet, something to listen for that sends a shock of electricity through me when I hear it under an attractive person’s clothes. It immediately tells me that there’s something unusual under their clothing, that I know something intimate about them that others might not.
• Diapers draw attention to the genitals.
• The soft feel and extra squishiness around the genitals adds tactile simulation for the wearer and their partner.
• The smell of baby powder is erotic and alluring.
• As something potentially embarrassing, sharing a diaper fetish increases the intimacy between two people to a level that I imagine is not experienced by most people, or that I cannot experience with people who don’t know about my diaper fetish.

Why I Like Changing

• The ritual draws me in and lets me know that it is time for sex.
• I enjoy the emphasis on genital cleanliness. The genitals can be shaved, wiped, powdered, and rubbed with baby oil or petroleum jelly.
• It focuses wholly on the genital area and is an excuse to gaze at, fondle, explore, and even lick the genitals.
• The inclusion of sex in a changing scene is taboo and exciting–I still never wholly expect it after all this time.
• I enjoy the inherent power dynamic to the position, one person being supine while the other looms over the partner being changed.
• I enjoy the inherent power dynamic to one person making such fundamental decisions about another’s bathroom use, cleanliness, and adult privileges and practices.
• I enjoy the romance implied by the extreme intimacy of a diaper change.
• When I’m being changed, looking up into my partner’s eyes, I feel exposed and accepted. They see all of me–my quirks, my shame, my joy, my fears, my needs–and they still care enough for me to clean me, care for me, and love me completely.

I started age playing before I had children and have continued to do so since becoming a mother. The two are completely different. Period.

Recently Rachel Kramer Brussel wrote a piece for Salon.com, Baby Talk, which details (kinda) her first age play experience with a male partner. I think it’s wonderful that she wrote the piece and I agree with and can even identify with a lot of the things that she says.

Even when I’m in a dominant sexual role, there’s an element of caretaking involved. If I’m slapping or spanking or biting or pinching someone who gets off on me delivering pain, I am fulfilling a sexual need. It may not be the same as feeding them chicken soup, but it is still a form of taking care of them.

I also strongly disagreed with a lot of things that she said and felt like she made a huge mistake in even mentioning them in the article. Namely, I think that she should not have brought up the “maternal yearnings” that she mentioned. She stated that they were not sexual, so I have to wonder, why bring it up at all?

I feel like we need to separate age play from actual parent-child relationships as firmly as possible. They are not related. It always saddens me when I hear from a friend that his or her partner doesn’t want to continue age playing after becoming a parent. It confuses me when I hear that an age player can’t role play the age that their actual child might be. What on earth does one have to do with the other? One is a sexual (or asexual) fantasy about certain ritualized power dynamics, subversions, fetishes, pretend innocence, ravishment, etc. The other is nurturing a human being who will grow up and move away from you. I’ve never met a caregiver whose ultimate goal was to have his or her ward leave or move on.

I think that many people, especially women who are trying to come to terms with age play, try to de-demonize age play by equating it with something innocent, sweet, and appealing, like parenthood. They seem to think that if they say that their desire to age play or their complacence with their partner’s desire to age play is rooted in a genuine desire to be a parent, it won’t seem so odd.

I disagree.

If someone wants to experience being a parent, age playing is the worst way to do it, IMHO. Instead, that person should, oh my god, have a kid, take in a foster child, become a teacher, babysit, or even buy a dog. Of course these are not things you want someone doing if they are, in fact, age playing for sexual reasons or because they have an inaccurate idea of what it is to be a parent, provider, and nurturer.

Last night my toddler was awake half the night. He wanted milk. He didn’t want milk. He wanted oranges. He didn’t want oranges. He wanted a story. He didn’t want a story. This went on and on for two hours. He was crying. He was tired. I was tired. I was terrified that he was going to wake up his brother and I’d have two screaming kids to deal with. If an age play partner wanted to do a scene like this, I’d tell him or her to go fuck him or herself.

Cuddling in bed with a partner while he sucks on your breasts before you have sex is not a replacement for parenting and if it calls up “maternal yearnings” I really think you should ask yourself why, because, well, that’s a little odd. Beyond that, I think that responsible age players have a duty to separate age play from actual parent-child relationships because of the effects of neurolinguistic programming. For example, I can say all day that, “Age play is not pedophilia,” and it is true and I may feel like I’m doing the community a service. However, it’s rather like saying, “Don’t think about elephants.” When I say that, chances are whoever is listening ends up thinking about elephants. So when Brussel says something like, “My sexual age play brings out maternal yearnings, but those yearnings are not sexual,” she’s kind of doing the same thing. She’s consciously separating the two, but then she talks about both at length, together, in the same article, and connects them. I feel that this is ultimately harmful. [I know I'm sort of doing it now, but gosh darn it, someone needs to say something!]

I feel that Brussel makes another wild, misguided swipe at de-demonizing age play when she attributes her partner’s interest in age play to the early loss of his mother–and perhaps he does, too. If everyone who lost a parent in their childhood became an age player, there would be more of us. (Unfortunately.) This type of over-simplified, amateur psychology is useless in determining why someone has an unusual kink, and, really, for most of us it doesn’t matter why we are the way that we are. There is no magical answer that will make our kinks go away or perfect explanation that will make a partner accept us. I say, get over it and go out there and try to find your own Rachel Kramer Brussel to play with.

Beyond that, Brussel just doesn’t have a very accurate idea of what babies are like–and I certainly don’t think that she has to. She doesn’t have one and only seems to vaguely want one. Not to mention that age play needs not be based on an accurate, clinical portrayal of anything that a chronological kid does. Brussel describes her partner’s oral stimulation of her breasts thus:

As he lay on top of me, he sucked on my nipples in a manner no lover ever has. He wasn’t sucking on them to give me pleasure; his tongue never brushed against my nipple to find out if it was hard. He sucked in a fast, loud way, like a baby would to get milk, cheeks moving with exaggerated motions in and out.

First of all, “As he lied on top of me,” not “lay.” (Don’t you just want to slap me?)** Second of all, an infant does use his or her tongue when nursing. It’s called the extrusion or tongue thrust reflex. Third of all, most infants do not suck quickly or loudly. There is often a soft clicking sound when a very young infant nurses, but that’s about it. It isn’t the theatrical production that Brussel imagines.

So, he can suck on her breasts however they both want him to, but I feel like it’s worth mentioning this not because, “Oh, their age play isn’t accurate, so it’s less valuable,” but to point out that age play often isn’t anything like actual parent-child interactions, but that doesn’t make them any less enjoyable. You don’t have to equate the two in order to give age play value or to make it seem more approachable.

So, Brussel, for all my pedantic whining, I did enjoy the article and thought it had merit. I’m grateful to you for publishing it on Salon. I just wish you hadn’t made the connection between actual parenthood and age play.

**I was wrong! See comments. V_V

Things have been progressing well with my new Daddy. He has decided to use the stage name Manny, so that’s how I’ll refer to him from now on–not that he’s going to be appearing on here. He did do a video with me, but I kept his face out of it. He was all for being open, but he’s in school to get his teaching credential and I don’t want some parent finding out that not only is he in porn, but in porn where his girlfriend in her late twenties pretends to be underage and calls him “Daddy.” Call me over-cautious, but I don’t think that would go down well!

I just wanted to give an update about how we’ve been fitting together. As I said, he just did a video with me. I thought about using it as a cover to get him to do a lot of crazy things that I want to do and then just saying it was for the site, that I wasn’t enjoying it at all, but my ethics got in the way. Again. Like they always do. So, instead we did a shoot based on the progress of our relationship.

Manny is not into diapers. At all. I think he may be willing to indulge me, but I’m not sure enough to ask. And, you know, who wants to simply be tolerated? If he’s not enthusiastic, I’d rather not incorporate them at all, difficult as that may be. I’ve shown him some of my favorite diaper porn and he’s been okay with it, but he always asks, “What about that diaper? Do you really think that’s hot?” And I always start stuttering about other elements of the picture, video, or story that I enjoy: the genital shaving, the spanking, the humiliation. I’m a coward, I know.

But Manny is into a lot of other parts of age play, juvenilization, and fetishism. He really likes that idea of stripping a powerful woman of her adult faculties, reducing her to something dependent on him. He also likes the dynamic of caring for me and the romance of the Daddy/girl dynamic seems to come naturally to him. “When you are in my arms you can cry, you can be overjoyed, and I will fuck all your cares away.” Swoon. Big time.

He also prefers that I call him “Daddy.” We had a conversation about it on FaceBook a while ago. I asked how he wanted to be addressed, as Sir or Daddy. He said Daddy–because he knew it was what I would prefer. When I heard that he only wanted that name because he was catering to me, I was crushed. I was worried that all that filial devotion I felt toward him was misplaced and that I had been making a fool of myself. I told him that, thanks, but that name meant a lot to me and I’d rather just call him “Sir” if it was all the same to him. That was when he became a bit more firm.

“I believe I just told you to call me ‘Daddy.’”

I again said that I’d rather not, that Sir was fine. I liked Sir. It would be fun. And, yes, I even sort of meant that. It wouldn’t be as cosmically perfect and intimate, but it would still be fun. And I could keep my veil on, as it were. I wouldn’t have to worry about revealing something potentially embarrassing, something that could cause him to leave me in disgust. I could keep playing the sexy nymph who was a freak in the sheets, but reasonably so.

His response was cautious. I could almost hear him hesitating as he typed, revealing his own dirty little secret. “I think I want to be your Daddy.” He said he liked the idea of being the center of my little world, the way I got so excited when I did “little girl things,” the way I would lie in his arms and suck my thumb when we watched a movie. It sounded pretty genuine, not like pandering. I agreed to start addressing him as Daddy in private, whether we were having sex or not.

So, for our shoot, I tried to think of a way to incorporate diapers, but not expose him to anything that would weird or gross him out. We started with my in a frilly, satin baby doll, my hair in pigtails. I was kneeling at his feet, looking up at him adoringly. He asked if I was ready for bed and I said that I almost was, that I needed a diaper. He picked the diaper up from where it was laying on the bed. He started hitting me in the face with it–which was ad libbed and totally freaking hot–and pulled down the front of my nightgown, asking me if such full breasts belonged to a baby or a big girl.

He kept asking if I had to pee and oh god did I. I’d been holding it in anticipation of the shoot. I probably could have peed earlier, but, you know, better safe than sorry. He kept telling me to say that I would be a big girl for Daddy and use the potty. I resisted. I really enjoy resistance play. I want to give in eventually, but I really want to have no choice in the matter. On a break I asked if he wanted me to actually give in and say it or if he wanted to just drag me into the bathroom.

“I’ll do whatever you want. This is for your site.”

“Yeah, but do yo want me to say it?”

He was sitting hunched over on an ottoman, his fingers loosely interlaced. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “I want you to say it.”

I melted a little bit and agreed.

From there he dragged me into the bathroom. He sat me on the toilet and firmly instructed me to pee, which I did. I really had to go, so I was a little river. He told me to wipe myself, to make sure that I was really clean. Then he began stroking my vulva. “It still feels wet here. He started plunging his fingers into me. I do like diapers and all (ya think?), but I really enjoy potty training scenes, too. I actually really like giving head while I’m perched on a toilet.

Anyway, he pushed his fingers into me really hard and fast and I got W-E-T. After I came, he pushed his fingers into my mouth and made me lick them clean. There was so much cum on them that I couldn’t swallow it all, so when we paused, I had to go spit it out into the sink.

After that, we went back to the bedroom and he put me to bed. At first he took my bunny, Tulip, away from me, but right before he left he gave it back. Thank goodness for small favors, eh? Then I “fell asleep” while sucking my thumb.

At this point we were done, but since he hadn’t cum at all and I’d only cum once, we were both really randy, so we ended up having sex on the floor. I thought about filming it, but sometimes it’s nice to just have sex and not worry about angles, lighting, etc. And, yes, you do end up worrying about those things if a camera is running–at least I do. I can’t just ignore it and make a sub-par video. Ick. He didn’t cum in me, though. He wasn’t wearing a condom and I’m not on birth control. … I should really get my IUD replaced. We’ve been having sex for nine months and he’s never ejaculated in me. :-/

It was a really fun shoot and I’m glad that Manny did it with me, but I don’t know if I’ll be shooting him again. It’s hard to run the camera as a submissive. (Me and my two bit operation.) I do really want to do a M/F spanking scene, though. Hmm.

I just started working for Kink.com again and I love it. I was so excited when I got the email asking to book me for Ultimate Surrender. It came out of nowhere and I’m still not completely sure why Matt, the recently retired webmaster, asked for me, but I’m thrilled that he did. It was a fun shoot, I met a new model, Audrey Rose, and got to WRESTLE.

I LOVE wrestling. I wasn’t super athletic in high school, but I did play soccer and baseball. And I wanted to wrestle. My only experience with it before porn was during a two-week special period during Phys. Ed. where we all got to choose something different to try out. I was going back and forth between free weights and wrestling–i.e. stuff that would put me around the boys and impress the girls at the same time. I’m so glad I went with wrestling. A really hot girl, C, was in the class with me. She was tiny and it was so much fun to throw her around. Of course I also wanted to get thrown around by some of the guys in the class, but mixed wrestling wasn’t allowed, and I understand why.

I had so much fun in that class. I realized how strong I was and how thrilling it was to use my strength to dominate another person. I’m very physical. I’ve always been the kind of person who greets friends by punching them, jumps on my boyfriend’s back at every opportunity, and gives everyone enthusiastic, full-body hugs.

And then I started thinking about age play. A few years back there was a mistress, Josephine, who specialized in age play and wrestling. I can see how a dominant woman might be into both of those things–they can both be more about reducing the sub, rather than catering to his or her fetishes, not that there’s anything wrong with a little fetish-catering! However, I didn’t really think of the two as mixing until someone on Twitter asked about mixing the two in a shoot. At first I kinda wrote it off. They just seemed so differently. Then I talked to my girlfriend about it and, as always, she had some great insight.

“What if it was two littles fighting over a toy?”

She was totally right. I scuffled with my sister ALL THE TIME over toys, treats, anything, really. And I can see it being a hot shoot. Lots of diaper face-sitting, making the loser say, “Uncle!” and maybe some embarrassing stuff, hair-pulling. It could be pretty darn hot. I’m thinking of doing a shoot where two adult little girls are wrestling over who’s Mommy’s favorite, maybe pulling off wet diapers in the process and getting a little frisky. Hot, no?

Then there’s the idea of wrestling someone out of their adult clothes and into a diaper and onesie, or wrestling an uncooperative little into the bath tub. I mean, that’s basically a two-Mommy job right there!

Of course age play mixes really well with lots of different types of play: animal role play, discipline, financial domination, cross-dressing. I’m interested in hearing what other kinks people mix it with, me being a curious little mouse and all.

Anyway, if you want to see me wrestle, visit Ultimate Surrender. I’m shooting with them again on Monday, so please support the site and leave comments on the shoot page so that they’ll shoot me again!

A Twitter follower recently asked me about shopping for adult baby “neccessities” which is a pretty vague inquiry, but I’m going to assume that he meant the AB/DL basics.

Over the years I’ve discovered that I don’t like shopping on Etsy or Ebay. Others have wonderful experiences, but I usually don’t get what I thought I was buying or don’t get anything at all. I’ve also been banned from PayPal a number of times and lost money to them, so I’m no longer interested in doing sending them my business if I can help it. I prefer to shop at specialty stores online that take credit cards. So, if you’re an Etsy or Ebay seller, sorry! But I won’t be shopping with you.

I’ve always wanted to buy something from Privatina, but all their prices are in Euros and of course they’re expensive as all get out. So I wish I could recommend them, but I’ve never had any experience with them. Beautiful stuff. If anyone has purchased from them, please leave a comment about your experience!

I can recommend Cosy N Dry. Their shoes don’t come in my size, but I purchased some of the white Mary Janes for a sissy and they’re respectable. What I especially liked about them was that they were soft all around, like baby shoes, and not soled like adult shoes at all. The buckles are a little meh, but what’re you gonna do? They also stock little girl style tights in adult sizes. I can usually find these at American Apparel, but not always. And they carry kinky items. In fact, because they’re not judgmental about those sorts of things and carry Nuk size 5 pacifiers, I prefer to shop with them for pacis over Pacifiers R Us–though their poor site design is almost enough reason to avoid them anyway. Good product, though!

I can also recommend Very Special Clothes. If you visit their site, you’ll see a familiar face. 75% of my ABDL wardrobe probably came from working with them. It’s excellent quality, based on classic baby patterns, and just plain amazing. I love their fleece jammies and discontinued sailor dresses–and that they use real satin ribbons on their booties.

As for diapers, I always recommend Bambino diapers. People always think I’m a spokes person for them, but I’m not. I just really, really, really like their diapers. I wish their liners didn’t have that silly sticky strip, but whatever. And they now stock Molicare, my second-favorite diaper! I always get one of their multi-packs, some Molis, and a pack of liners and I’m good. Delivery is usually overnight, even at the regular rate.

For plastics, from pants to sheets to clothes, I shop at Fetware. I’m crazy about their locking plastic pants. I also really liked their printed mattress and pillow cover set, but mine have since ripped. I had them for, gosh, maybe six years before they ripped. I’ve replaced them with un-printed ones from Target, but it isn’t the same. I just love the cute!

So, if you’re thinking about building up an AB/DL wardrobe, these are the companies I’ve been using for years, the ones that have stuck around, and the ones I’d recommend to a friend.

I like big breasts. And big cocks. I mean, not exclusively, but obviously I didn’t get implants for my health. When I age play, I’m not trying to look younger and I’m always skeeved out by guys who specifically like childlike bodies and a barely legal birth year mixed with their age play. That said, I do like a shaved pubic zone. It looks kinda slutty to me, in a way that implies one has been shorn not only of pubic hair, but of one’s adult faculties.

Every now and then I get a guy asking me to grow out my hair down there. I say no. It takes forever and I’d not really be able to work in the meantime. If I could magically slip back and forth between being hirsute and being deforested, I would, but I can’t, so I choose to stay shaved. I had grown out a landing strip a bit ago, but had to shave it when I fought for UltimateSurrender.com.

However, the idea of a woman with hair down there is…titillating. With a man, I’d just want to shave it off, but I can see it being sexy on a girl. I think it’s an oral sex thing. With a guy, I don’t really flick their hair with my tongue, but I do with a girl. And if there’s baby powder rubbed into it and I can smell it on her…heaven.

I was talking to a female friend about the requests I get from guys who want to see diapered women with pubic hair. She thinks that it’s a validation thing, which it may be. We agreed that it was probably also the dichotomy. It certainly is for me when I think about it, especially with things like big breasts or big cocks. I also like to see women in diapers and high heels for the same reason. Or men in diapers and a suit. There’s something very hot about a guy in a tailored suit with French cuffs, a pocket square, and bespoke shoes who is wearing a Bambino underneath. I wonder if it would affect the inseam measurement. Hmmm.

Anyway, this week’s video features Bianca, a new model, in “Bianca’s Audtition.” She’s enthusiastic, can pee like a fountain, and is 100% unshaved, natural, and beautiful. Enjoy!

I love watching guys jerk off and recently realized that it’s related to my interest in age play. In fact, the thrill that I get from watching a guy jerk off is fairly similar to the thrill I get seeing a woman suck her thumb. (And I do also like to see women masturbate and men suck their thumbs, but I mainly fantasize about it the other way around.)

It just seems so juvenile. Of course it isn’t, but I grew up in the Catholic church and it was supposed to be something you outgrew. Seeing a guy do it implies that he’s just so horny that he’s willing to do something embarrassing, that he can’t help himself, and that implication is really freaking hot, though I can see that it’s also very rape culture-y and rather reductive of the male psyche.

I have a fantasy about going to sleep with a guy only to wake up to him furiously jerking off, either by hand or lying on his stomach, humping the mattress. I imagine coming to slowly, feeling his arm or the bed rhythmically shaking, finally realizing what he’s doing just a moment before he cums. From there it could really go anywhere.

It’s a very dominant fantasy for me. I like to think of the guy being humiliated, but also turned on. I like to imagine that he would be desperate for release, so that when I grabbed his cock and asked him what the hell he was doing, he might just shoot in my hand right there. It would also be fun to pull him over my lap and, as I start to spank him, the touch of my legs would send him over the edge.

And, really, that focus on erotic embarrassment is a big part of what gets me off in diapers, too. I think there needs to be more of that in porn. Or at least in my porn.

At the Edwardian Ball 2012

I was talking to one of my partners the other day and she was saying that she wants to fulfill more of my age play fantasies, which is really sweet, but really, I’ve been taking matters into my own hands.

A bit ago her boyfriend from London came for a visit and we all went out to the Edwardian Ball. They went as Wendy and Michael Darling and I went as Michael’s teddy bear. It was pretty darn cute, if I do say so myself. We ran around looking at the exhibitions, ridding the rides, and partaking of the booze-ohol. It was a really good vibe, very chill.

And I was totally secretly age playing the whole time.

It was really fun, actually. I was running around, ducking between and under people, pulling them along to the next attraction, doing handstands, buying myself presents. I gave Michael a bunch of cash so that I could just ask him when I wanted another drink or something, which made it feel more like I was asking for permission for a treat rather than just buying myself a drink.

My partner evidently hadn’t noticed, but I started thinking about it and realized that I do it a lot. When she and I went to Dickens Fair with another friend, he drove while she sat in the passenger seat and I sat in the back, kinda sticking my head up between the two of them and chattering away, pretending they were my mom and dad. It was just comforting.

All these people have age played with me before and continue to be interested. I probably don’t have to keep it to myself that I’m age playing, but I do anyway. As a switch, I recognize that it can be really exhausting to be “in charge” all day, even if it doesn’t actually change what we’re doing, so rather than be a drain on my partner, I just do little things to make myself feel taken care of. And my childlike enthusiasm can be energizing rather than exhausting if there isn’t an expectation of reciprocated behavior.

I do the inverse, too. I actually have a thing for holding a man’s hand and sort of dragging him down the street like he’s a naughty child or primping a woman’s outfit and just generally fussing over her like she’s my little princess. It’s harder to get away with that, though!

I like to see positive representations of age play, but we’re still at a point where those don’t really happen unless age players are directly responsible for them. One of the ways to support that is by, well, supporting it.

On Saturday, February 25th, Cum & Glitter is going to have not one, but TWO age play performances, one featuring Pampered Penny model Kitty Stryker. I won’t give everything away, but there’s a clown involved. Yeah. A clown. There’s also going to be other sexiful stuff going on, but I’m mainly goin’ for the age play.

You can see the profiles of the other performers on the Cum & Glitter website and even more information is on their FaceBook.

Hope to see you there!