Panties and Bras

The Confrontation with Sophie

An Autobiographical Sketch

In 1984 I took tests of physical strength designed for women, thinking, because so many people had commented on how soft and weak I was, that I was equal to a woman of my size. But I scored far less than the composite score of 700 for all seven tests.

So I invented the concept of effective height. I reasoned that for women of approximately the same figure, strength should be proportional to weight and weight should be proportional to the cube of height.  For example, the absolute strength of a woman 63 inches tall should be 72.9% of that of a woman 70 inches tall, since 63/70 = .9 and the cube of .9 is .729. If a woman 63 inches tall scored 700 on tests for her own height, she would score 510 points if, with her muscular strength remaining the same, she were magically transformed into a woman 70 inches tall of approximately the same figure. Conversely, if a woman 70 inches tall scored only 510 points, she would have the absolute strength of a woman 63 inches tall, and that would be her effective height. Her height multiplier would be .9.

My height was 70 inches, but I scored less than 700 and also less than 510, which would have shown me to be equal to a woman 63 inches tall. So I tried a height multiplier of .8, which would have required a score of 358 points and would have corresponded to a height of 56 inches. But I scored less than 358. I tried .7, which meant a score of 240 and a height of 49 inches. I tried .6, at 151 points and a height of 42 inches.

Finally I found my mark using a height multiplier of .55, which corresponded to a score of 116 points and a height of 39 inches, in round figures. So, instead of standing 5'-10" tall, I should have stood 3'-3" tall, if with my physical strength unchanged, I was to score 700 points. So I considered 3'-3" my effective height. This is in the average height range of five-year-old girls and corresponds to a weight of 34 pounds. I calculated my effective weight as about 28 pounds. However, this is not a perfectly accurate method of calculation, because young girls are shaped differently from grown women, but it was good enough for my purposes.

Of course, I was absolutely astonished and scandalized to learn that I was only as strong as a young girl. But there can be no doubt about it, as I took the tests over 100 times in a four-month period, with perfectly consistent results.

In the next couple of years, I kept rationalizing by supposing that my calculations were just so much paperwork, and that my conclusions were fallacious.

In 1987, in Honolulu, some young women invited me to join their exercise club, which met daily in Kapiolani Park. At first, I was afraid that they thought I was a woman, and that when they learned that I was not, I would be disinvited. But that was not the case.

Anyway, still entertaining the conventional notion that women are the weaker sex, I was dumbfounded to discover that most of the women seemed to be five or ten times as strong as I. I was utterly shocked and amazed. I had been living in an illusory world.

The first day, I was already recognized as the class sissy, but what I love about women is that they don't react viciously and contemptuously. They only tease in a playful, merry, good-natured way.

There was one elderly lady--Agatha, not the Sophie that is the subject of this article--who also exercised with the group. She was terribly skinny and looked absolutely inane. I'd say she was around 80 years old. 

One morning when I was struggling to do a modified push-up from the knees  as the ladies had been trying to teach me, Agatha came over to me and said, "You've improved quite a bit in the last couple of months. You should keep it up it. Eventually you'll get there. I was just like you when I started out too."

I couldn't believe my ears. If I kept exercising, I'd eventually be as fit as an 80-year-old woman. I discounted the remark, but it must have percolated into the depths of my being.

In 1989, in Santa Monica, one morning I had bathed on the beach and put on fresh clothes, including yellow stretch pants rolled up to the knees, for biking, and a white blouse with a bullet bra inside. I had on knee stockings and a white knit cap.

Afterwards, I cycled to Lincoln Park, where there were several picnic tables. Every morning I would read my mail and write some notes at one of the tables before going to the library.

On this particular morning, a very skinny, feeble-looking lady of about 80, whom I call Sophie, was standing in the basketball court in the park. When I rode up and paused about 50 feet from her, she shouted to me, "Get out of here! This is not that kind of park."

If you are familiar with the degraded mentality of most Americans, you will understand that she probably thought that I was in the park for purposes of soliciting illicit sexual activity, that is, prostitution. This, of course, could not have been further from the truth.

So I cycled to a table on the opposite side of the park, away from the daffy crone a goodly distance, and started reading and writing.

About two minutes later, I happened to look up, and I saw Sophie walking towards me. I scoffed incredulously. "What in the world does she think she's going to do?" I wondered.

But when she approached to within about 25 feet, I could tell from her facial expression that she meant to eject me from the park bodily. A terrible panic welled up inside of me as I visualized Sophie throwing me to the ground and getting blood and mud all over my fresh clothes. So I grabbed my papers, got on my bicycle and fled.

I realized from her original remarks that Sophie had chased me out of the park not just for that particular day with the understanding that I might come another day. What she had meant was that I was not to use the park at all. It was a standing order. She was banning me from the park indefinitely.

Naturally, I could have dismissed her injunction, and indeed I thought to do so. The following morning I went back to the park and looked all around. Sophie was not there. But it occurred to me that if I entered and sat at my table, she might appear suddenly, and then I'd be in trouble. So I was afraid to enter the park and I left. For two or three more days, I circled around the park without entering, Finally I realized that somehow Sophie had imposed her expulsion successfully. I was scared to go back. I began to consider Lincoln Park off limits, and I found another place.

So with eleven words and a stern facial expression, Sophie had frightened me into complete obedience to her wishes. She had no legal authority. She was not a policewoman or a park employee. Her only authority was that she knew that if she got tough with me, the little girl in me would come out.

Finally, four months later, when I knew I was leaving Santa Monica in two or three days, I went back to Lincoln Park. I felt I had to make a show of defiance before I left town in order to redeem my self-respect. Fortunately, Sophie was not there, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

(1308 Words)


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********PANTIES AND BRAS********

 is all about panties and bras. is the perfect venue for panties and bras. is the mother of all websites for panties and bras.

For a lovely selection of panties and bras, see  PANTILYNX.

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