As someone whose kinky nature is customarily kept below the surface, I occasionally enjoy situations when I am mentally attuned to my kinks but am surrounded be people who have no idea what is going on.
My outer persona is that of a very typical family guy/business man and, if I am honest, one who would be unlikely to be seen by people around me as prone to emotional extremes of any kind. This heightens the expectation that IF ONLY THEY KNEW what was going on in my head, they would most likely be amazed, shocked and confused.
In these situations my kink is the shark that only I can see hovering just below the surface of the swimming spot. I like to let it get as close as possible to the unknowing swimmers before sending it deeper where it is safe from discovery. It’s risky, this game, but any person who allows a complete stranger to tie them up and hit them is a person accustomed to embracing risk.
Here are some places where the shark has been swimming over the last few years:
I am in Boston, MA. I have made a morning visit to the famous Pandora’s Box dungeon in New York where I asked for a punishment scene. The mistress I selected hadn’t messed about. This was only the second or third time I had REALLY been caned and I finished panting and gasping, the punishment ending literally one stroke away from the safe word. (How is it that a really good mistress just knows exactly when to stop? A post for another day). It’s only a three hour train trip to Boston and I am sat on a hard wooden chair in a University lecture room. I have to listen to a long and technically demanding presentation by a University professor that requires my absolute concentration. But I don’t want to be sat down. I am bruised, sore and deeply uncomfortable. Eventually I listen standing up, pleading excessive travelling. At one point I sit back down and wince audibly but no-one spots the shark fin as it breaks the surface. If only they knew.
My wife being away for a few days I am on washing and ironing duty. I have taken a large basket of ironing to hang on a line in the sunshine by the side of the house. Normal domestic scene, Yes? It would be, but I have a strongly sprung wooden clothes peg on each nipple and have set myself the task of hanging out the whole basket of washing before taking them off. (I know, I know, but I am wired this way). I am down to the last few shirts and what was a bit of kinky fun is now really quite challenging. The action of hanging the washing causes the pegs to move on my already sore nipples, sending bursts of sharp pain through me. I NEED to get back inside and take them off. Now. A local friend drives up in her car and wants to talk about a party they are planning. She talks and talks and the pegs bite harder and harder and I fight to keep my face straight and still she talk and talks, moving on to long and drawn out lists of all the people they have invited and the delights they are going to cook. It’s agony but all I can do is suck it up and try and control my breathing. But it is also funny and kinkily exciting as the shark gets so close to the surface I can’t believe she hasn’t seen it! If only she knew.
I have had a very kinky session with a mistress in a well equipped London dungeon. It finished with a prolonged flogging, that left me deep in subspace from which, only an hour or so later I am just starting to emerge. I am in a dinner jacket and bow tie at a large and prestigious function that is all city types. I am floaty, surrounded by the noise of the function that comes at me as though from far away. I feel detached and isolated and have to fight my way out of subspace to have a conversation with the person next to me before slipping back down again, drifting on a sea of endorphins and pre-dinner champagne. I am 80% still in the dungeon and only 20% at the dinner, the shark threatening to break the surface at any moment. If only they knew.
It’s all a game really. I know I shouldn’t do it and that the sensible thing is to maintain as clear as possible separation between the two lives. But I have come to realise that the shark is also part of my kink and it demands to be let out every now and then.
I would love to know if any readers have similar ‘near exposure’ experiences to share.