Thanks for the Wraparound, Jackass

Update Oct 6 12:30 PM:

Oh yeah…one more thing I remember about this twerp…

Check out this spectacular mansplaination…! 

    In the getting-to-know-you consultation, he happily expressed (bragged, actually, but I don’t begrudge him that–anyone should be proud of getting a job interview) that he’d just finished a B.S. in Mathematics and interviewed for a job interview at a bank.

     He obviously wanted to talk about it, so I asked: “What’s the position?  Calculating algorithms for market predictions, or what?”

      Still smiling, he put his hand on my knee, and said (and I swear I am not making this up): “No.  You see, in Mathematics we design things called models that use statistics and software programs.” 

      What a clown. 

      It’s okay.  The money I took from him was twice as expensive as his suit. 

                      *                              *                   *    

   I had a sub session with a jerk who tried to bully me with money and play a game of chicken with me insofar as the pain was concerned.  

       “I’m going to go harder,” he said.  “You can either safe out and ask me to stop, or ask me for more money.  I’ll keep tipping you if you can take it.”

       Nice way to try to make me “earn it,” fucktard.  You couldn’t just come to me like a man, negotiating in good faith, and tell me how hard you wanted to cruise.  

       Well, color me unimpressed.  Put your money where your mouth is.  

        Never mind.  Beat you to it.  

        Three times.

        Most of the marks will be gone by tomorrow.  Your incompetency with the cane left a few welts from the wrap-around, but that’s all right with me.  A small price to pay for dashing your conception of yourself as a Big Scary Sadist.  Thought I’d safe out, didn’t you…?

       You’re a freshly minted B.A., or so you claim.  I believe it.  In town for a job interview as a financial services creature.  I believe that, too.  

        Pro-tip: $50 at a decent tailor’s shop will make a cheap suit look and fit much better (take it from an adjunct slave college professor).  You look like you were going to shoot an episode of Judge Judy.  If you were not such a misogynist douchebag, I’d take you out for ice cream and teach you all sorts of things. Starting with proper caning technique.

         Whatevs.  I still got your $400, jerk.  And guess what else: I photocopied your ID when I processed your credit card payment (and a curse on you for paying with a card.  I won’t see that money for weeks!).  If you try to reverse the charges, you are going to be a very unhappy young man. 

Thanks for the wraparound, jackass.


10 thoughts on “Thanks for the Wraparound, Jackass”

  1. I’ve only ever been caned once. It was at school when I was around 14 (yeah that’s right, they had corporal punishment in the UK in those days). The schoolmaster, an Austrian refugee who was our German teacher, did it in front of the other boys, so that if I flinched, I’d be bullied for the next four years.

    Anyway, the point that I want to make is that I don’t understand how you can prevent the marks from turning black and blue and lasting for weeks, because that’s what happened to me.

    The reason I know this is because about three or four weeks later, my Mum came into my bedroom unexpectedly while I was dressing, and freaked out. I hadn’t told her that I’d been caned out of shame.

    You may wonder what was the grave offence that provoked the caning. I’m left-handed and an awkward writer (not helped by numerous attempts to prevent me writing left-handed). My pen was always running out of ink. He had previously warned me that if it ever ran out again while he was giving us dictation, he’d cane me. It did and he did.

    He’s probably dead now, but I used to fantasise about meeting him up a dark alley when I grew older and bigger, and beating the shit out of him. I now, I know, this is bad, and you have to let go of this shit. But your post reminded me, and the question about black marks is genuine.

    And no, I’ve never been to Austria, and have no intention of going. Ever.

  2. Good morning,

    Ah, the bad old days…

    FWIW, I hear stories very similar to yours on a regular basis. I even wrote a little about it on this blog–if you care to read about it, go to “search this blog” and type in “english headmaster”. There are two entries.

    It’s an absolutely unacceptable thing to do to a child, and I’m sorry that it happened to you. The humiliation–doing it in front of the other boys–sounds like the worst part to me.

    At the Studio, I’ve met many Englishmen who want to be caned or administer a caning as part of an academic roleplay scenario. Like yourself, they remembered their childhood canings very well, and have eroticized this traumatic thing that happened to them. Now they act it out in a subconscious attempt to master it and relieve it of terror.

    When they do it to others…well, that is slightly different. You know when something awful happens to you, and part of you secretly wants it to happen to others…? I think that’s a big component of sadism, but I could be wrong.

    I do have some bruising today, but it’s not bad. Or at least I don’t think it’s that bad. The average person on the street might feel otherwise. The welts are, indeed, the worst. I couldn’t sleep on my lefthand side last night.

    Now, regarding your question: there’s nothing that I can do to prevent bruising, but I’m experienced enough to be able to tell, when looking at an injury, how long it’s going to leave marks. That’s what I meant. Also, there’s something that happens physiologically if you receive trauma/tissue damage to the same place on a regular basis: it stops bruising easily. That’s what has happened to me.

    I can’t explain the physical mechanism. I asked the Surgeon once, and he couldn’t, either. But I’ve talked with quite a few masochists about this, and they knew exactly what I was talking about.

    Hope that helps. Thanks for reading.

    Why did people used to try to discourage left-handedness? What a stupid prejudice. Is it the myth that the devil is supposed to be left-handed? And what an idiotic idea that is, too! Why would a supernatural entity be right- or left-handed? Why would it even have hands?

    1. Hi Margo

      I hope you are healing up and feeling better. Those bruises and marks look nasty,

      —OK now I’m turning rant mode on—

      You see this is one of the things wrong with our economy and our country. We have some of our best and brightest, and I’m not saying this guy is one of them, working on bullshit like: “Calculating algorithms for market predictions.” How about calculating how much sea level is going to rise if the earth keeps heating up and what to do about it or figuring out how to solve one of the other million and one other problems that need to be solved. Instead we have some of our best minds trying to make the investor class, who are already fabulously wealthy even wealthier. Meanwhile, the science, technology and engineering and math disciplines can’t get enough students. Or if they do they go and work for Wall Street. I read that many of the derivitives, CDO’s and other crapola that got us into this mess five years ago were developed by physicists because they were able to do the math.

      —rant mode off—


    2. Hi Mike,

      Oh, I feel just fine. The worst part of it all, I suppose, was the contempt I felt towards him during and after. The dynamic provoked some ugly feelings in me. But the wages justified it.

      I completely agree with you, FWIW. I’d like to comment at greater length, but I don’t want to give out too much info on my research interests or the methods classes I took in grad school.

  3. First, the kid (and 22 y.o.’s might as well be 11) is just a kid. When I meet a 22 y.o. I understand that they don’t know shit. I understand that they must be humored because we were all once 22 and didn’t know shit, and we realize that people tolerated our bullshit and we must now tolerate the know-nothing prattle of the pre-grown up set. They know as much as a 16 y.o., which is everything (their view), and nothing (reality), all at once, yet have a college degree which says they are highly educated.

    Second, I don’t like people treating others with disrespect or rudeness, ever. And he sounds like he did both — which is indefensible.

    Finally, and this is the part where you again think I’m a douche, I think it is within the realm of his fantasy that he wants to play the money-man humiliating the woman into begging for his money. Mickey Rourke did it in 9 1/2 weeks. It makes him feel big to make you beg for pain for some money. If the tables were turned, a woman making a man beg for pain so as to get some money, I’d think it might be a hot scene. It isn’t necessarily misogynistic, it might just be humiliation. If you put yourself out there to do sub sessions, some humiliation play may come up. As a sub who has sub sessions, humiliation definitely happens in a lot of my scenes, whether I like it or not.

    I’m not saying it’s right! I’m only saying that it is within the realm of a D/s session — maybe. Doesn’t make him less of a jerk, of course.

    1. Hi Downlow!

      Yeah, I know he’s young, and I know how young guys can be–he was only a year or two older than a lot of my students. And yeah, I’m sure he was feeling cocky being by himself in Manhattan and having what is likely his first important job interview, and now he’s doing something naughty in this dungeon like James Bond or some Hemingway Man of the World dude.

      Buuuut…still really tacky.

      And no, I don’t think you’re a douche at all for the last bit. I think you’re right on the money (pardon the pun). I knew that was EXACTLY what he was doing. Which would have been fine (I guess…le sigh) if he’d told me that was his kink beforehand (though that would have robbed it of some of its power, I guess).

      The one benefit of the doubt I’ll give him is that maybe, being so young and new, he didn’t know how to properly negotiate a session.

      9 1/2 weeks was a mediocre film (though it looked great!), but that money scene was excellent. It was the best part of the movie. That was some really cruel shit. To tell you the truth, if a man wanted to do that to me in a session, I don’t think that I could do it. Too personal, too close to home. I’ve had to go to a rich man with my hand out–like the Surgeon last summer, when he saved my ass from having to dance in that titty bar–and it is an excruciating experience. And also, being a sex worker charges the money thing in ways I don’t think it would for civilian women.

      Men are used to be bullied or controlled with money too, of course–I know lots of young men whose parents used it as emotional blackmail (Not mine! HA! money, what money?)–but it’s a little different given the oppression of women in society, as you noted.

      The interesting thing is that I can do humiliation scenes just fine as long as the humiliation doesn’t strike home at some personal weakness or insecurity. Bark like a dog, call myself a dirty slut, crawl on the floor, sure, whatever. Even being called ugly would be okay. But if a guy wanted to get on me about my weight or wanted to question my intelligence, I don’t think I could handle it.

      On the whole–and yeah, I know the dangers of generalization–male subs seem to like being humiliated a lot more than female subs. It’s a HUGE fetish with the guys, as I’m sure you know. Huge. I wish I was better at it, because aside from being able to crack some zingers at his expense, I’m really not that good at it.

      Oh–I did it really well one time, though! This African-American professor came in…a pretty well-known scholar, actually. He wanted racial humiliation and he wanted me, probably because he recognized me as fellow egghead…and probably because I look very Aryan.

      Well, I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, even though I know it’s not really real. I’m not judging it, or him–the kink makes total sense–I just couldn’t bring MYSELF to do it. So he went with another mistress.

      Buuut….I DID think of something to tell HER to do to him when she was preparing in back.

      We had a bag of cotton balls that we used to take off nail polish, right? You see where this is going? Ha! I told her to take the cotton balls and throw them all over the floor and make him pick the cotton! HA! While singing some old-timey black spiritual!

      She was like, “ZOMG that’s EVIL!”

      HE LOVED IT! Oh god, it made him so happy! Bwahahahahaha!

      We made him rap, too, which was pretty amusing, as he was a very cultured gentleman with a Ph.D. And to offer an explanation for the cultural phenomenon of “grills.” (he had no idea)

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