Comments (8)

By Serenity Everton, July 29, 2010 11:38 am

I’ve been meaning to write all week about the various problems associated with having one’s sexual or non-sexual intimate practices shared with the world. I’ve also been meaning to write down some specific fantasies. I wonder which one will come out of me this morning, hm?

~

If you haven’t yet, please visit the new blog by Chrysalis. She’s not new to the online twitter community or to the blogging world, but she is new to the spanking blogging world. The posts go back only to July 17… and a good many of the newest ones document the scary things that can happen when our inner selves are shared with what turns out to be the wrong person.

As a matter of course, when someone tentatively sticks their foot into our virtual kinky community, there are a chorus of people who recommend (often rightly) that you can share those specific fantasies and desires with your partner or potential partners, and to give that person a chance to engage with you in dialogue or even experiment. What a great idea! I commented that it is right to suggest this primarily because of my own ethos; I would not wish to play with anyone who was deceiving their partner, no matter the level of intimacy. With a few exceptions and a couple of party spankings, I make an honest effort to find out before engaging in play with anyone that it is okay within the relationship. There is nothing that leads to the disintegration of a relationship more than deceit, even if  there isn’t technically any cheating. And, in healthy relationships, the fantasies of one partner should not be anathema to the other, even if there is no reciprocal interest.

But.

What happens when that person refuses to have any participation in our fantasies?

For Chrysalis the relationship ended anyway. But he knew her ‘secret’ and he knew she wanted to find out if it was everything she wanted it to be.

So now he knows.

And so does everyone else in her ‘real’ world.

For as much as we have informally established expectations and rules for each other in the spanking community, and understand that outing someone is likely to make us persona non grata, there are often very good reasons that people do not mix folks from their kinky and vanilla worlds. Some of us do with varying levels of success.  I have lied outright to my family concerning the circumstances that led me to Chris, and have since fudged things or glossed over questions about other friends who are bridging or have bridged the gap between vanilla and kinky to become some of my favorite people anywhere (Iris and Mija:  Happy Birthday this week!).

It’s not that I’m ashamed of it, but really? Who sits around the dinner table with their parents and talks about how good their hubby will be in bed? If your family successfully maneuvers that dynamic, that’s great! On the other hand, my mother was recently “shocked” and “horrified” when she went to a cousin’s bachelorette party (the bachelorette will be the in-law) and there was a stripper who stayed the entire evening. Stripped. She was confused and, I think, shocked to find that people use whipped cream in other ways than on pie, and hoped out loud that his mother never found out what he was up to in his free time. (Are you kidding? He made a fortune in tips and drives a Harley. His mom knows!)

On the other hand, when our extracurricular activities are thrown into the glare of the public, there is unmistakably an air of disapproval and, perhaps confusion. I think if I was called on the carpet, so to speak, by any number of my multiple professional overseers, I would point out that my relationship with Chris and how we express it is none of their business (and maybe ask if they’d like to share the details of their Saturday night with their respective spouses). Chances are that after that I’d be looking for a new job, too. The fact is that I do not want to be an ambassador of the kinky community to my employer, not in theory or regarding my personal explorations, and I frankly can’t imagine any of my colleagues or supervisors wanting to know any details. (On the other hand, they’d probably make incorrect assumptions about my personal preferences and behaviors that would reflect on their perception of my ethics, which would be detrimental to my work.)

[Please note that I am deliberately and consciously avoiding any discussion of 'real-life' intimate discipline/punishment with Chris, which I suspect would create a furor, and concentrating solely on the consensual fun and painful play. However, I acknowledge that any intense play does involve expectations and usually unpleasant consequences for not meeting them.]

So I do depend on those special people who have crossed from one world into another to respect the boundaries of our relationships, because violating those boundaries would have real emotional and (perhaps) financial implications.

And if those relationships broke? What would happen then?

Comments (3)

By Serenity Everton, July 23, 2010 9:38 am

I had a nightmare last night. After the protected post below, it probably won’t be a surprise to anyone if I say that in my nightmare the princess was being hurt and I couldn’t stop it. (The protected post has to do with a molestation case, but no one in our immediate family is involved in any way.)

It’s been a very grown-up few days, in more ways than the one addressed in the previous post. By Sunday, Chris will be gone for a (work-related) week away and I will be wholly responsible for home, car, drive home from the airport and child, and very much alone here in the wilderness of strangers.

I’m not feeling much like a little girl.

Still, last night Chris walked in the front door, hugged me immediately, kissed me as he and only he has ever done, and asked, “How was your day, little girl?”

It felt … not as bad as it might have, and yet out of sync. I don’t feel like a little girl. I feel grown-up. Female. Sexual. Flirtatious … at least with him. With everyone else, I just feel a bit defensive,  sober and grown-up, and oddly alone.

I think, all in all, that if I am to be in a wilderness of strangers*, that I’d much rather be the little girl holding Daddy’s hand to keep me safe, as opposed to a grown-up woman fully capable of handling herself and a child and any crises that arise. And yet I am both, at times.

Still, I asked him late last night not to call me a little girl for awhile. Girl should be all right, I think. Bad Girl and Naughty Girl ought to work. Just leave out the little, I asked.

That’s your choice, he returned, holding me close. And yet I knew in my heart that it disappointed him, and my heart ached again in a different grown-up way I do not like at all.

——

* By strangers, I mean we have no close friends nearby and no family. We have acquaintances, a few people who could be friends if we tried, colleagues… but few people I would open myself to.

Comments (2)

By Serenity Everton, July 22, 2010 9:03 am

I password protect entries when they contain information that might reveal who we are too specifically. In this case, the preceding entry concerns a story that appears in our local news and with which we have personal knowledge (but with which we are not personally involved). If you would like the password and have had previous contact with me, please leave a comment with a valid e-mail address (e-mail address is not published) and I will send it to you. You can also direct message me on twitter or send e-mail to asparkle2[at]yahoo.com.

Comments (14)

By Serenity Everton, July 11, 2010 3:56 pm

I think my head is coming out of the sand. I think I’m up and looking about. I’m not sure but I’ve read about 4 blogs (no, not yours and not yours either).  I’ve played Civilization, visited my family, gotten spanked fairly regularly, fallen into no unforeseen summer disasters (yet and please none, thank you) and finally – this weekend – have felt the restlessness that tells me that it’s either time to bury myself in a novel or at least write a bit.

So I ran away from a first-grade birthday party mid-stream and sat here staring at the computer screen wondering where to start. For the sake of explanations, my usually part-time job becomes super-timed beginning in April every year and concluding at approximately the end of June. Partially this is because of a big convention and partially this is because the end of the fiscal year is June 30. Either way, it’s a lot of work and besides my own duties I actually recruited Chris and my mom to help at times so that I could ration myself 3 hours of sleep a night, go to swimming lessons, help the princess with her homework the last two weeks of school and be conscious enough of the world around me to be grateful that Chris did so much of the shopping and cooking. Otherwise we might have subsisted on fast food. In May I worked 220 hours and in June I worked 340 hours.

After that it takes a bit to recover. There’s sleep, of course, and the 30+ thank you cards, groceries, housekeeping (getting ready for the cleaner to come, we have one now after months of successive illnesses this spring – yay!), laundry, little girl time, etc. I’m also having a bit of a crisis of faith again, I think – not in Chris, but in me and in myself and in how I see the world. I really believe that’s precipitated in part by my job but also by our homeless souls here. For all that I needed a break from the politics of the church where Chris and I were in southern California, I’m now almost equally desperate to be one of God’s worshipers – a member of a community of believers. We haven’t found the right church home here and the longer it goes on, the more I see it as one of the most serious downsides of our move away from southern California. That’s a topic for the Daily Examen, I know, but it’s starting to weigh on my mind every time I stop and think now.

I’m not wanting to stop doing things long enough to think about anything.

More importantly, though, I really don’t have anything about me to write about. I have stories to tell, acerbic comments to make about certain politicians and the value systems of our media. But as far as kink and love go, well, it’s going. Chris spanks me. We have sex. Sometimes I like the spanking, almost always I wish I wasn’t so tired or it wasn’t late at night after the princess’s especially late summer bedtime.

Usually I want to sit around aimlessly and ponder some random point on the ceiling for no discernible reason.

So yes, I think my head is out of the sand. And I’m drifting…. whether aimless drifting is a problem or not, I have yet to find out. I’m rarely without a goal or a purpose and right now my purpose seems to be to enjoy time with the sparkling girl who wants to be friends with everyone, especially me.

I’m not sure that’s a good thing or a bad thing. It just is.

Comments (2)

By Serenity Everton, May 20, 2010 12:41 am

Busy. Feeling better. Getting a rare spanking now and then. Working twice as much as usual, not reading anything before midnight that isn’t full of numbers and names and occasionally some web code.

Speaking of code, I’m jumping a bandwagon. Please read all read about a company I do not do any business with (and hope never to do business with) as customer, vendor or writer. There has been some suggestion that the original author may be served with a Cease & Desist order by the adult retailer in question. I leave you to make your own best judgment.

Read the comments if you have time, too. They’re interesting.

Incidentally, I made a decision many moons ago to have as little to do with this particular adult mega-business as possible. The current brouhaha is just another nail in their coffin, as far as I’m concerned. But I do realize that many people really like them and that they have many, many loyal customers. Still, I prefer Babeland any day.