The ‘identity’ prompt was well timed. My BibulousOne kinky masochist persona and that other one, the one with whom BibulousOne shares a skin, are about to return to the everyday vanilla life from which they have both been taking a small break. The notion of identity is important to me because these are not, in truth, separate personas. They are both parts of the one whole, complete ‘me’. The challenge comes from the constant need to hide part of my identity, an important part of my identity, from those who mean the most to me.
I write this from a solo holiday that, alongside a great deal of poker, has included two rather wonderful sessions with Mistress Kikko a very skilled, if vicious, Chinese/American Mistress based in Las Vegas. The second session left me with vivid purple bruises. One of these bruises protrudes, carbuncle like, from the visual protection of my Calvin Klein trunks, Calvin Klein trunks being my preferred form of underwear. (Too much information? I thought so also but it’s there now). I am going home tonight so the aforementioned bruise has to be iced and Arnica’d into oblivion lest it show up in my vanilla world where it would be as welcome as a porcupine in a nudist colony.
But part of me doesn’t want to do that.
Part of me doesn’t want to sneak into bed ahead of my wife, so ensuring she doesn’t see the evidence of my temporary but intense, paid-for relationship with another woman.
Part of me wants to lie face down on the bed naked so that when she returns from the bathroom she’s confronted with the blue-brown smudges from the paddle, the tell-tale train tracks from the cane and the thin red scars from the whip.
And I want to tell her.
In fact I want to blurt it out with all the force of years and years of hiding it, of lying about it, of burying the emotional and physical bruises where she can’t see them.
This is what I want to say to her:
“My love, I’m sorry but this is me. This has always been me. I pay people to tie me up and hit me. I was doing so before we met and I have been doing so since.
I need the pain, the intensity and the emotional catharsis that comes from it. I’ve needed it since I was eight years old. I need it now. Without it I am grumpy, bad tempered, and unfulfilled.
Please don’t think this is about you… I know there have been things in your life that make the very idea of eroticising pain unimaginable. That’s why I haven’t pushed this on you. That’s why I’ve sneaked off and dealt with this and returned without you knowing. But I can’t hide it any more. This is who I am and for me to pretend otherwise now feels more dishonest than the sneaking off.
For me to live a totally vanilla life would be like someone born gay to live as a heterosexual.
I know that to ask you to understand is too much. But please, please, I beg you, accept that this is part of who I am. Please, most of all, allow me to be this person so that, after all this time, I can finally stop lying to you.”
Of course this isn’t going to happen. There is too much at stake.
There have been too many lies over too many years to expect that they could all simply be erased with one plea, however genuine and heartfelt. With each new lie, each added “I’ll be back late after the meeting,” each “I’m wearing these to bed because I’m cold,” the mountain of lies gets a little higher and it becomes a little less likely that I wall ever scale that mountain to see the welcome plains of truth and honesty that lie beyond.
I think there’s just time to rub some more Arnica cream into the bruises before I head to the airport.
More wickedness here:
Hi Kinky one
I am sure you are not the only person to hide your true kinky self to your partner.
It took me an age to explain myself to my wife and she was supportive but explained that she didn’t play that way.
I personally couldn’t play with another woman but that’s just me.
However I did go to a local top guy for my caning experience and it really did just let all the feelings I’d bottled up fly free.
I had experimented solo with caning and it sufficed…but it was nothing like receiving from an old experienced hand.
My goodness he pushed my boundaries. .he broke one cane on me (granted it was a home made job) but then he brought out a purchased model and that certainly would not break easily.
I have never before been in that place of ecstasy through pain …everything afterwards made me feel as if I was floating …yes My bottom hurt and was blazing hot..but I literally walked home on a high and although I kept myself covered around home because of marking the ache stayed for a week and I kept examining the ridges left by the cane.
Im glad I stumbled across your blog
Best wishes J.
This is such a challenging situation and I do understand how you are caught up in it. I think if you have any chance of being able to get this to a place where you feel more comfortable the way is to start small. As Zoe said, introduce it as a abstract idea through general conversation. Not easy, not ideal and not guaranteed to work but surely worth a try to see if there is any chance of opening up lines of communication
Mollyxxx
Lying comes with risk, just as telling the truth does, though the risks are somewhat different. Right now you’re denying and sacrificing elements of your true self, which is likely having some kind of corrosive effect on your psyche. But I really hope you’re able to share at least a little bit with her. I agree – start small. Maybe a reference to Fifty Shades since it’s been so very popular? If you find you’re able to share, it could even bring you closer. Wishing you the very best. xx
I went through a similar dilemma last year, and gave my husband a copy of the blog post I had written, to read for himself so he could understand exactly how I felt about sex and our relationship.
I really did feel for you when reading this, although pain is not my kink. This also made me think of my husband, as he is into exactly what you have written about.
But why does it have to be all or nothing? Couldn’t you try to gently introduce her to your alter-ego? You know, the next time you watch a movie or read a news article with some reference to this kind of kink, point it out to her and half-humorously say that you can kind of see the appeal. Then later, maybe after a glass of wine, describe a mildly kinky fantasy, ask her what she thinks.
She might never come around to it, but at least this way, when she eventually finds out (as you know she will – they always do), she won’t be quite so devastated.
Hi. Thanks for the comment.
Well maybe I should. But I have a good life and kids still at home (just) and have always backed away from putting that at risk.
I think it’s so sad that you have to hide from the one you spend your life with. I have no words, no advice, but to wish for you that there will once come a time where you can be 100% yourself.
Rebel xox
PS: Nice bruise!