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

Warm dark fingers fell lightly but firmly onto my bare white shoulder. I felt another strong hand firmly grip my corseted waist from behind, pulling me into soft, ample breasts. Before I could turn to see who had me in her steamy clutches here in the midst of this jamming soiree for a leather scene doyenne, a whisper rich as dark honey slowly flowed into my ear, "You, my lovely young lady, ought to have this corset laced properly -- and much tighter." I recognized that flirtatious, cocksure voice. It was V., a courtly leatherwoman of color, renowned for her tight-lacing fetish and impeccable expertise, among other diverse distinctions. Incredibly, she was lusting to lace my corset -- an invitation I had fantasized about!

The Bitch was also giddy because it's been two years since she's been that tight-laced and felt so va-voom-party-sexy! Thanks to V.'s gallantry, it felt like a re-entry into the social whirl with the new (old) Bitchin' bod. Getting tarted up to go out is almost always good fun, but not so much lately. Through no one's fault but her own, she tends to grow and shrink like Alice in Wonderland, gobbling her "Eat Me" cake and guzzling her "Drink Me" potion. But now, through no one's determination but her own she is almost back to her best health and weight again. It's simply too dreary for words, darlings, but the Bitch is a compulsive overeater.

Over 18 years, in numerous bouts, I've gained and lost the weight of a rather large, very pretty, dappled Shetland pony. Over the last nine months, I have lost the weight of a heavy, slobbering Labrador Retriever (who had to be put down -- I mean, on the ground -- I nearly wrecked my back again), and I've almost returned to my "normal" size. Owning clothes sized 6P to 24W, the Bitch is sympathetic to both fat and thin folks. My realistic "goal" weight is proportionate with my height and is approved by neurosurgeon, physical therapist, gynecologist, psychiatrist, nutritionist, personal trainer and boytoy.

Determining this realistic, healthy goal weight is more challenging today than in the past, despite today's standard, the Body Mass Index (BMI). It's supposedly more objective, but I find it obtusely counter-intuitive. No wonder the National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance (NAAFA) takes issue with this widely-distributed statistic, supplied by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention: "an estimated 61 percent of U.S. adults are either overweight or obese, defined as having a body mass index (BMI) of 25 or more [according to recent results of] the 'National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey (NHANES) 1999.'"

Besides the BMI scale, how is "ideal weight" calculated? ANRED, Anorexia Nervosa and Related Eating Disorders, Inc., answers this question on its FAQ page with disarmingly common sense. I wish I had seen it on the NAAFA site as well because it applies to everyone:

The Bitch is reluctant to admit that she has a nasty blind spot about all this. "Body Image" is the title of panel discussions she has led at huge leather events in NY and DC. She doesn't have the nerve to lead them when in fat mode, only when svelte. Thousands of attendees go to these conventions, which hold nightly dungeon parties where people of size gather in great numbers. Many of the fat players seem quite liberated and unselfconscious, running around starkers in floodlights. The Bitch skulks around the perimeter in head-to-toe slimming black ensembles, tight-laced and boned, all flattering vertical lines, plunging cleavage and stilettos, the exterior saying, "Who among you, lowliest of wormboys, should prove worthy enough to lick my bootheel?"; the interior saying, "Does my ass look too big in this skirt?"

While I agree with the Fat Acceptance movement in principle, that we should accept ourselves for whatever shape we are, my self esteem suffers when I am more than 10 pounds overweight. Mr. X., my longtime boytoy, sees beauty in all my morphing shapes over the years -- finding my mind sexy as well. We enjoyed ourselves while the weight of that Retriever was hiding under my corset, and since the time he knew I was ready, he's kindly encouraged me as I've worked back toward my goal. One occasional partner did drop me when the ice cream started to take its toll on my gut. He wasn't into fat chicks.

I am not sure if this conflicts with the Fat Acceptance movement, but I don't believe it is in our best interest to settle for obesity without making the effort to maintain fitness to the best of our individual abilities. We should strive to be as healthy as possible. For me it means not lugging around a 70-pound Labrador Retriever for the rest of my life. Woof.

I am not being unsympathetic to other people with "food and body image issues" when I say that people feel better when they are physically fit. Sex can be good at any weight, as celebrated in Hanne Blank's widely-praised sourcebook for lovers of size, "Big, Big Love," but this Bitch believes that better fitness equals better flexibility for acrobatic perversity. Better lung power for heavy breathing and better blood circulation to the clit and dick equals better orgasm.

In our free society we make our own lifestyle choices. Adults are presumed to have the maturity to weigh risks and make educated choices regarding smoking, drinking, whitewater rafting, investing, etc. The Bitch is a libertine pervert and simply must agree. However, her libertine principles are challenged when considering the Pro-Ana (Pro-Anorexia) movement, which stands in stark contrast to the Fat Acceptance movement. While Fat Acceptance is primarily an adult movement, severe eating disorders affect mostly people in their teens and 20s. Studies show they also affect kids as young as six, according to ANRED. Like Fat Acceptance, Pro-Ana is an extreme, defensive reaction to the outside pressures of negative attitudes toward the "lifestyle choice" of anorexic and bulimic girls (only about 1 percent are male). This movement exists primarily in online communities, isolated from all clinical or parental supervision. Within the past two years, the pro-ana web community has been partially dismantled due to intervention from concerned medical professionals and parents. However, there are still many sites, like bluedragonfly.org, that provide the determined pro-ana with a group of like-minded cohorts sharing such tips as how to fast for 14-21 days. These girls are not interested in recovery, but view their body style as an aesthetic choice and constantly seek "thinspirational" imagery to reinforce their mindset.

The Bitch sees anorexia as the opposite of self-esteem and sex; it even has the biochemical effect of ceasing menstruation. How is it different from a slow suicide attempt? Perversely, there is the longtime glorification of the ectomorph in the hipeoisie zeitgeist of media saturation -- art and fashion photography's heroin chic, from Nico and Edie Sedgewick in the '60s, to today's near-skeletal supermodel Kate Moss (a frequently-cited thinspirational persona on pro-ana sites, at 16.8 BMI -- severe anorexia). Men dig supermodels, or so the Bitch is told. Alas, ANRED warns, "Without treatment, up to 20% of people with serious eating disorders die. With treatment, that number falls to 2-3%."

All types of eating disorders are frequently attributed to "control issues." The Bitch might have some control issues. She admits that might be why she is a compulsive overeater; and why she insists that her guests always use coasters. And it might be why she loves the feeling of a corset gradually tightening around her hips, waist, ribs and back, and why with every cinch of the laces, she feels the constant, roiling cosmic chaos being pacified. One does feel a touch pixilated when drawn in as tightly as possible -- and tighter still -- cascading blood to breasts and below waist reverberating every sensation sent to those hot spots. The Bitch can feel tiny and wasp-waisted in a fragile corset shell; or larger-than-life, regal and invulnerable in corset armor. But she always feels very, very much alive -- and then relieved to loosen her laces, breathe deeply and go back to her "normal" waistline, no matter what the silly measurement is this month.

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.