I come to -- gasping for air -- as I realize I'm being dragged across the stage.
Trying to remember where I am and what's happening, I feel something pulling up into my ass.
It takes a second but I realize it's my tight lil boyshorts. Mr. Thomas is literally dragging me across the stage by the back of my lil boyshorts -- wedging them up my ass -- like they're a leash.
"Get up!" He yells.
I try to but since he keeps pulling on my boyshorts it causes to me slip and slide in my high heels. I can't find my footing. I stumble down.
He yells again.
I try again.
I fail again.
He winds-up. I know what's coming.
SMACK! My ass cheeks jiggle violently.
I yelp out.
"Up!" He yells again.
"I'm trying to, Mr. Thomas!" I plead.
How did I get here?
It was a month ago, I got cast in the school play as the "fantasy girlfriend" of the main character (who's also 18 -- everybody in the play is). I've never acted before but apparently I was the only girl in school who "fit the part." I was excited and flattered. So I said yes :)
For the past 3 weeks, my director -- Mr. Thomas -- has been trying to get me ready to A) be able to act and B) be able to act while on stage in very tight and very small outfits. It's something I said I wanted to do and would be able to do -- but after about 3 weeks of rehearsals, I'm still finding myself getting incredibly overwhelmed when im stage in such small, tight little outfits. I keep tingling up during rehearsals -- the image of so many men staring at my body in lil outfits overwhelms my mind so much that it makes my vision go blurry and my head become a fog of men just staring at me hungrily, until I almost whiteout.
This problem has become more and more clear to Mr. Thomas over the past week of rehearsals as different people come to see rehearsals of the show and give notes. Every time I have to turn around, I feel my ass being put on display to the audience and the tingle sensation begins -- it spreads all over my body -- my mouth trembles -- I start stuttering -- my vision gets blurry -- I can't comprehend what the other actors are saying -- I miss my cues -- and I literally almost walked into a wall last rehearsal.
In attempt to fix the problem, Mr. Thomas told me stay after rehearsal on Friday -- in my tight little boyshorts and high heels outfit that I'm to wear for my 2nd scene in the play. I listened.
For the rest of this story, I must say up front that I am paraphrasing my director/teacher's words. I don't remember them exactly. I got so overwhelmed at moments that I'm certain I missed some of the things he said, so I'm trying to do my best to approximate what he said, when he said it, and where his hands where when it was said. Additionally, even if at times it might seem otherwise, I'm ok, comfortable, and willing.
Standing in the middle of the stage in my lil outfit and heels, Mr. Thomas stares at me from the cross the stage while sitting in a chair.
After what feels like an entirety, he says, "Should we tone down the outfits, Barbie? It's not too late."
"No please. I want to do this. In the outfits, Mr. Thomas," I answer.
A moment of silence.
Then he rises from his chair. I don't look but I hear him walk towards me while I stand profile to him.
He stops right next to me. I hear him breathing. He doesn't say anything, but I feel him look me up and down as he towers over me. My breathing starts to quicken, but I try not to show it.
"Close your eyes, Barbie."
I listen.
"I want you to imagine it's opening night. The theater is packed. There's over 500 people in these seats watching. And the lights fade up on your second scene. You're lying in bed while Tom is looking through the closet. It's the morning and you're talking about breakfast. You've just said your last line to him before you slide your legs out from under the covers and sit up on the edge of the bed. Do you have that so far?"
I take my imagination through the scene and situation as explained to me. I slide my legs out from under the covers and sit on the edge of the bed. I keep my eyes closed and nod to Mr. Thomas.
"Good. Do you feel the air on your exposed legs while you sit on the edge of the bed, just like you do now while standing in your little outfit in front of me?"
I feel the cool air from the AC in the theater breezing over my exposed legs. It helps me imagine that same feeling while sitting on the edge of the bed. I nod again.
"Nothing's covering those legs, Barbie. So where do you think all the men's eyes in the audience are going to look?"
"I... I don't know."
"Yes you do, Barbie."
"I..."
"Barbie."
"...On my legs?"
"Right on these legs." I feel his hand suddenly grip my bare thigh, squeezing it tightly -- causing me to gasp. His voice gets closer to my ear. "And you're going to sit on the edge of that bed the way I told you to, with your legs exposed, so they can stare at them as long as they want, but you're not going to move the covers to reveal your little boyshorts. You're going to keep them covered. Isn't that right?
"Yes, Sir."
"And what's that going to do to the men in the audience?""It's going to..."
"What's it going to do to the men in the audience, Barbie?"
"It's going to make them wonder."
"It's going to make them wonder what you have wrapped around you little body. There's eyes are going to slide all the way up these legs..." I feel his hand sliding up my exposed legs -- squeezing it tightly all the way up. "And stop right about here." His hand stops right at my upper thigh -- squeezing it so tightly -- his fingers dangerously close to gazing my... you know what. "They're going to sit there waiting for you to get up -- desperately wondering what you've been dressed up in. Do you feel their eyes on your legs while your sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to get up?"
I try to calm myself and let my imagination take me through the feeling of the audience watching while Mr. Thomas' large hand is wrapped so tightly around my bare thigh. ...Slowly, I can feel an audience full of men scattered about the theater. They stare directly at my exposed legs. Tom is saying his lines but all I can think about are all the men staring at my legs. God, it makes my legs tingling up feeling their eyes on them so intensely. My breathing quickens. I nod that I can feel their eyes.
"Can you feel them desperately waiting for you to stand up so they can see what you're wearing?"I nod again -- feeling them leaning forward -- waiting -- impatiently -- my lower lip trembling as i nod again, trying to keep my composure. Yes, I feel it.
"Good. Because we're going to keep them waiting. You're going to reach down and slide your tall black high heels closer to you. And you're going to take your time, strapping them onto your pretty little feet. And they're going to think- 'Jesus Christ she wears heels right out of bed? She's fuckin' perfect.' Do you hear them thinking that?"
My knees start shaking. "Fuckin' perfect" ringing in my mind as I feel their thoughts about me. All those men. Oh god, more of my body begins to shake as my mouth trembles. I try nodding but all of me is shaking I don't know how clear it is.
I feel Mr. Thomas' hand leave my thigh and grip my side -- steadying me -- squeezing my waist tightly, right around the tight waistband of my lil boyshorts. He places his other hand right on my tummy, right above the front of my waistband. "Steady, Barbie. Steady. Breathe."
He helps me breathe steadily while I try to take in the thought -- trying to accept it and not be overwhelmed by it.
"Breathe, Barbie. Breathe. Steady."
I still hear "fuckin' perfect.' I imagine them biting their lips waiting to see what im wearing -- goddamn Barbie, steadyyyyy. I repeat to myself it's ok. I can handle it. God I need to be able to handle it! It's my job in the play. I can handle this. I want to do this. I want to be this character for the audience.
Breathe. Breathe! "Fuckin' perfect." Goddd.
Finally, I calm myself -- at least somewhat -- steadying myself.
"That's good. That's good. Now, are you ready to get out of the bed?"
Oh no. I shake my head no. The tingling starting up again almost immediately.
"Barbie. I need you to be ready to get out of bed so they can see what your little body's been dressed up in?"
My mouth starts to tremble up again. My knees shaking.
"It's what they're going to be thinking, Barbie. After seeing your tight ass in those tight leggings in the first scene, they can't wait to see what's covering it now. Are you ready to show them?"
Barbie steady yourself! I keep trembling ...but I nod. I don't know if I'm ready but I nod anyways.
"You rise out of bed. The covers falling by your side as you stand up in your 7in high heels to reveal to the audience of fathers your hot little 18 yo ass in these tight little boyshorts. But you're going to remain profile to the audience while fixing up your hair in the mirror. You're going to let them take in the curve of your ass." I feel Mr. Thomas' hand slide down from my waist to my ass cheek -- delicately sliding around the curve of it. "You're going to let them take in the the tightness of these little boyshorts around your ass cheek." I feel him pinch my tight lil boyshorts. "You're going to stand still for this, letting them eye your body -- appreciate your curves -- fantasize about having you in their bedroom in this exact same pose. Do you feel them taking in your body, Barbie?"
I'm on the stage, playing with my hair in the little mirror on the wall which causes my body to be profile to most of the audience. I feel their eyes on my bodyyyyyy on my asssssss fuckin god I try to just focus on my hair and what Tom is saying, but it's all I can think about are their eyes on my bodyyyy and assss. And Mr. Thomas' hand. It's like it's the audiences hand -- running itself around the curve of my ass. Pinching my boyshorts.
I'm shaking. I start shaking so much. I can't control it.
"Steady, Barbie. Steady. You're their fantasy. You're every man in the room's fantasy. The hot ass little 18 yo who wears high heels in the morning and makes sure her hair is perfect while wearing tight little boyshorts for her man. Let them imagine they are the man. Let them imagine what the curve of this ass feels like if they ran their hands over." I feel him sliding his hand over my ass again -- pressing his fingers into it this time -- feeling his fingers digging into the tight mesh fabric of my lil boyshorts -- making my ass cheeks squish inwards -- the fingers digging in. "Steady, Barbie. Come on. Steady."
Fuck. Fuck. FUck. FUck. i feel his fingers pressing into my ass cheeks tighter -- I feel it so much -- breath ing quicker and quicker and quicker -- trying to control my breathe but failing so badly.
"I said steady, Barbie! You haven't even showed them your entire little fuckin' ass yet! Steady!"
His voice growls sharply -- I nod and nod and nod. Trying desperately to keep it together.
Then I feel his hand grip my hair, pulling my ear to his mouth. I gasp out as he growls in, "Can you handle this or not?? You picked the boyshorts, Barbie. You brought in the leggings. I want this fuckin' ass on display. Can you handle it or not?"
My eyes still closed, I try to nod but I just shake instead.
"Can you handle it or not, Barbie? Tell me now if you can't. There's still time. We'll put you in sweatpants. But I need to know now. Can you handle this or not?"
I try nodding but I just keep shaking.
"I said can you handle your little 18 yo ass being on display for a roomful of men who are gonna want to smack the living fuck out of it when they see it? Can you handle that or not Barbie?!"
"I can handle it!" I blurt out while still shaking.
"Then STEADY!"
And all at once I feel it. His hand quickly pulls away -- a moment of silence -- wind suddenly pushes against the exposed parts of my ass cheeks -- oh no -- his hand makes impact -- a loud SMACK echos through the theater -- my ass cheeks violently jiggle back and forth -- my eyes shoot open -- I gasp out -- he grips the back of my hair -- he winds-up again -- my body tingles all over -- his hand makes impact again -- the loud SMACK -- the violent jiggle -- I stumble in my heels -- he growls something into my ear -- the wind-up -- the room getting blurry -- the SMACK -- the violent jiggle -- I lose my footing -- my hands on the ground -- another SMACK -- the violent jiggle -- I can't make out the room it's too blurry -- another growl -- my boyshorts getting wet -- the SMACK -- the violent jiggle -- my boyshorts getting wet -- the SMACK -- the violent jiggle -- my boyshorts are wet -- I moan out -- the side of my face against the floor -- the pressure from his hand against the other side of it -- he growls -- he SMACKS -- another violent jiggle -- my glossed lips rub the floor as I gasp out -- he SMACKS -- the violent jiggle -- a flood in my boyshorts -- a growl -- my eyes roll into the back of my head -- another violent jiggle -- another violent jiggle -- another violent jiggle -- the flood in my boyshorts -- the flood in my boyshorts -- the flood in my boyshorts -- a whiteout.
I come to seconds later -- gasping for breath -- while being dragged along the stage.
I feel something pulling tightly up between my ass cheeks. I realize Mr. Thomas is pulling my boyshorts as far as he can up my ass -- and it's causing me to drag along the stage. I don't even think he knew I blacked out for a second.
"I can't have you fuckin' cumming on stage during a show, Barbie. Jesus Christ! Get up. Up!"
He keeps pulling my boyshorts up into my ass, dragging me. I attempt to get up onto my high heels, but I slide and slip in my heels while he keeps wedging my boyshorts up into my ass
"Get up!"
I try again -- scratching the stage with my heels -- unable to get good footing.
"I said up!"
An impact on my ass -- SMACK! -- a violent jiggle.
"I'm trying, Mr. Thomas!" I yelp out.
He pulls so hard on my boyshorts that it lifts me to my heels.
I catch my footing, but before I can gather myself, he starts pulling me forward by the back of my boyshorts.
"Walk. Walk. Walk."
In a flustered daze, I walk as quickly as I can as he holds my boyshorts wedged up into my ass, leading me along with it -- it honestly feels like a leash. I click along in my heels, trying desperately to keep up with him.
"Walk! You feel your ass cheeks jiggle when you walk? You feel that?"
I nod. I feel my ass cheeks jiggle with every step I take.
"I want you walking as often as you can on that stage. You forget a line, just start walking. You don't remember your blocking. Just start walking. As long as this ass jiggles, you'll be fine. Got that?"
I nod as I keep walking -- feeling my boyshorts stretching so tightly up into my ass -- while I click along in my heels.
"Good. Good. That's it. Keep walking. And breathe, Barbie. Breathe."
I keep walking. I keep breathing. I walk and breathe and walk and breathe and walk and breathe as I feel this man pulling my boyshorts up into my ass while my ass cheeks jiggle with every step I take.
Somehow -- oddly -- it slowly starts to calm me.
"That's it. See? Just walk and breathe. It calms you, while still keeps their eyes on your ass. See?"
I nod. I do see. I keep clicking in my heels, breathing -- calming myself.
"Good. Keep walking, Barbie. Before every show, we're going to do this, ok? We're going to walk you. Got that?"
I nod.
"This could actually work. But you can't cum on stage, Barbie. I can't have that during a show."
I nod, feeling my face turn red.
"It's ok. It's a process. Just keep walking and keep breathing and you'll be all right."
We walked for probably another 5 to 10 minutes. By the end, I felt at ease. It worked, at least to some degree. It's a start.
I understand I just threw down a lot. I don't know. It's what happened. And since I'm aware how it might be interpreted, I want to be clear again -- I was willing. I am willing. I'm very ok.
I'm Barbie. I'm an actress.
And a walker.
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