GUSTO: BitchSlap by Elizabeth F. Stewart: The gloves are off.

Hot, red cheeks -- face and bottom. I am cross and sassy despite my abject humiliation, yet strangely tingly and moist -- down there. But a girl has to do what she has to do. Failing algebra means no riding my very own pony for a whole week. So, I am bent over the knee of my strict, handsome math teacher, Mr. X, my school uniform skirt flipped up, exposing white cotton panties. He pulls them down to redden my soft white flesh with his firm hand. My black patent Mary Janes flail in protest. Squirming on his lap I suddenly feel him growing rigidly excited under me as I press into him with the rhythm of his hand. He demands sternly that I count the times he spanks me. That is the only math I need to get from F to A in his algebra class.

But sometimes this little Bitch makes Mr. X beg for mercy, tying him up and tickling him to his very limit! Needn't pretend I'm a schoolgirl to do that. As consenting adults we have a Kama Sutra's-worth of "Laughing Cow" positions or some such ahead of us before we need ever don an alter ego or funny hat. In fact, I used to cringe at the thought of sexual "role play." Having worked in theater, it seemed a silly-assed busman's holiday, grown-ups having sex while making believe we are other people, other places wearing other clothing.

Harkening back to my otherwise useless graduate studies, the basic bargain between theatrical artists and audiences is "willing suspension of disbelief." To enjoy being drawn into, say, "A Midsummer Night's Dream," on even the most fanciful level, an audience accepts the premise (suspends their disbelief) that a Fairy King can bewitch a Fairy Queen to fall in love with the first creature she beholds on waking -- an idiot mortal whose head's been swapped with that of a jackass.

We exercise our imagination thusly everyday. The Bitch is merely suggesting that one might consciously loosen one's natty silk cravat to revel in spicy consensual adult play by directing some energy from above one's swan-like neck downward, to engorge one's consenting adult erectile tissues.

As a bitchy child, I liked to play imaginary games of horses, doctor, Army and school. All of those games have their adult role play counterparts and serious aficionados. Add to those roles these stunning costume possibilities: French maid (which I don't recall aspiring to as a child), pirate, fairy princess, fighter pilot, fire fighter, and the ever-popular cowboys and Indians (many rope bondage enthusiasts started young). Nudity is helpful when showering, but costume is more freeing for the imagination. Anyone who cares to -- any size, gender or persuasion -- can find and prance about in a little butt-twitching petticoat. If you care to suit up as a young boy, try a snappy Boy Scout uniform. Fetching on androgynes.

Just as some children like to dress up and role play as adults, many of us in what I loosely term my "adulthood," like to do the opposite. The Bitch's unexpected initiation to adulthood age-role-play came while clubbing with a charismatic friend who was attired as the ravishing, yet severe headmistress, Professor Melinda, at a women's SM party. I wore a very short, pleated black tennis skirt which soon morphed into a schoolgirl's skirt when I found myself under her spell, transforming into her Teacher's Pet. A bratty Pet, I required discipline, which involved her caning my derriere -- and my new Eloisian persona emerged!

Age play summons up in me surprisingly "youthful places" which can be emotionally evocative, but not scary or dangerous. I am fortunate not to have suffered sexual abuse growing up. However, I have respect for the experiences and continuing issues of those who have. Perhaps my luck makes it easier for me to explore this type of play freely while it might be unpleasant or possibly emotionally unsafe for others. Mature adults should use their intelligence, intuition and sensitivity to take good care and realize that it this type of play is not for everyone.

Discovering these new places in me was like wandering in the vast mansion of my life: the youth wing, a hall of forgotten chambers. There's the "Brat" chamber, where I can be Miss Smartypants, seeing how far I can test the tempers of my elders and plead ignorance to a pantaloon-load of bad behavior (Teacher's Pet's hideout). There is the "Mommy Give Me a Cookie" chamber where I can pitch a swell tantrum--great excuse for a spanking. There is the "Daddy Kiss My Boo Boo" chamber -- handy after a harsh spanking. My favorite is the lavish boudoir chamber: "See How Pretty I Twirl Oops Did You See My Panties?"

Many people seek a retreat to their babyhood. In a not uncommon request for professional dominants, some provide adult baby care and play areas for clients. Professionally serviced or indulged privately, adult baby fetishists enjoy extreme nurturing -- diapering, bottle-feeding. I know of an adult male baby, ecstatic to have met a Daddy who loves to diaper and clean him. If you ever doubt that there is someone for everyone in this world, take heart.

An expert in the area of age role play is the serendipitously named Lolita Wolf, a NY-based activist and educator in the SM/leather/fetish scene . She has presented many age play workshops and at times is known to be a very wayward six- year-old with two excellent outfits, the envy of any little girl: a fairy princess and a sailor suit, with a matching suit for her Teddy bear. From the mouth of this wise babe: "Don't be fooled thinking that the adult is always in charge. Kidz rule! I always get my way. My Daddy says yes to everything!"

Lolita's workshops may begin as conventional lectures, but they can ramp up like a daycare center on steroids run amuck. Attendees may act their (chosen) age in the workshop; some might dress the part. At a weekly meeting of The Eulenspiegel Society, New York's 30-year-old SM organization, Lolita led a rollicking age play Valentine-making workshop. Glittering love tributes of construction paper, paste and lacy doilies were sent home, clutched in their hot, big hands for mommies, daddies and sweethearts.

For me, age play is between goofy and torrid; between age six and 16. When I have sex, I love different settings; dressing up, talking, laughing; moaning, panting and screaming -- and being different personae -- including different ages. To get all psychobabbloid about it, one could say it is an outer manifestation of the inner child. It is no more complicated for me than when I was a child acting out my inner adult -- only more poignant. Because now I grasp concepts like "poignancy." Then I would have said, "It's kind of funny in a sad way. Or kind of sad in a funny way. Mommy, give me a cookie."

For others, does this trespass from the realm of naughty fun into something far more objectionable? Consenting-adult age-role-play cannot be considered to be in a similar category, much less tarred with the same brush as truly reprehensible pedophilia. Stated clearly throughout, this column is not about sex of any kind with minors. This is about imaginary role play between consenting adults.

From here in fantasyland it is only a hop, skip and a willing suspension of disbelief away to the reality of age differences in everyday love and sexual relationships. For instance, at the opening of this column, in my real-life schoolgirl and Mr. X scenario, is it more creepy and lewd that Mr. X is an "older man"?

In real life, Mr. X is an "older man." Older than he was when I met him eight years ago --when he was 25 and I was 42.

Next week: Age differences in relationships between regular people, not this sex-role play flapdoodle for crackpots who are tearing apart the American family.

Elizabeth F. Stewart, AKA "The Bitch of Dupont Circle" (BoDC), was lovingly given this Nomme de Perv by her mentor in the leather community, because she is a bitch, as well as a denizen of that 'hood in Washington DC. She is an art director (see www.efstewart.com) and writer (see also www.pervgrrl.org), whose fave hobbies include cracking wise, dressing up, getting off, telling others where to get off, and arranging things in an attractive fashion.