LIVING IN MY KINKY SKIN

I went into a sex shop before I went to New England. Not a huge deal, you may think: “Surely, given he’s been blogging for ever about this stuff, he’s in and out of sex shops all the time.”

Well, the truth is “No, Not really!” I’ve been in sex shops before but have generally preferred the anonymity of buying the accoutrements of Kink on-line. When I have ventured into sex shops, I’ve generally fitted the cliché of the sleazy male: lurking until there are no other customers at the cash desk and then paying for my chosen item and leaving as fast as possible. I’d consciously avoid looking the cashier in the eye.

I once visited the London Alternative Market with a friend (I think it was on my birthday) and, while I enjoyed it, I couldn’t quite shake off the feeling that I didn’t belong there with my smart trousers and collared shirt among the altogether more exotic human beings around me. A form of imposter syndrome I guess, deepened by the sense that a normally hidden part of me was being sent out into the glare of the public gaze and wasn’t comfortable about it.

But on my pre New England trip to Honour near Waterloo I browsed freely, found myself discussing the merits of different strap-on harnesses and dildos with the staff, and generally felt none of my previous stage fright. I actually enjoyed the visit. I felt I belonged there.

So, what had changed?

Ever since inviting L to spend the weekend in Las Vegas with me, my kinky side has been very much to the fore. We have chatted almost constantly on WhatsApp ever since and much of that chat has had a kinky flavour, whether it’s in the day to day language of a Dominant/Submissive relationship, full of little signifiers and reminders, in the creation of hot little fantasies or in the remembering of things we have done together. Her total acceptance and love for my full kinky self has, I think, made me happier in my own kinky skin and I have been living more consistently in that kinky skin than before.

Perhaps more importantly, I feel that my kinky side has finally become fully integrated with the rest of me. No longer is Bibulous a place where I can hide my kinks away from the rest of the world but, in a very real sense, I am now Bibulous and he is me.

And, being so comfortable in my kinky skin, a trip to a sex shop feels no less natural a thing to do than a trip to the supermarket.

I’m rather pleased with that.

Clothing in the marvellous Honour shop near Waterloo station

A sneaky shot on the train home, admiring the contents of my anonymous carrier bag.

You can find Honour at @SkinTwo on social media or in Lower Marsh Street behind Waterloo station in London. Definitely worth a visit.