Invisible slave

Look around you at the office, or the shop, or the restaurant.  Take a glance at your neighbours, scrutinise your family, and contemplate your friends.  Who among them knows the euphoria of being tied down and whipped?  Who knows what it is, to surrender totally to another person?  Who understands the passion and devotion of committing themselves to being a slave?  Or on the other side of the coin, of owning one?  It most likely won't be obvious, but the most innocent-looking gesture, or gaze, or word, can be an important clue.

Yesterday I found myself agitated, frustrated and basically envious of an outspoken lesbian woman at work.  She was making herself known, and people were joking with her and smiling to let it be known that they supported the office "gay".  The delight on her face at being the centre of attention, loved by all, was grating.  I imagined the response if I had made similar comments about my own relationship status: shocked silence, followed by awkward attempts to steer the conversation away from anything to do with sexuality.

In the same meeting, a demonstration of sorts used a piece of rope.  Naturally, its appearance was met by nervous giggles and joking references to who was "into" what.  Would that lesbian woman have sat in silence while people teased one another about being dykes?  Hell no.  But kink - that's allowed to be a joke.  It's far too scary to be taken seriously.

A girl who works the checkout at my local supermarket comes to work wearing a leather collar.  One day as she made polite chitchat to me, I gestured to my neck, and asked her, "fashion or lifestyle?"  She smiled, obviously pleased to have been asked.  "Oh, lifestyle!" she replied.  I smiled back, happy to have engaged with a fellow deviant... until she went on.... "I've always been into Goth, it's really important to me!"  Goth, huh?  Not really what I'd meant by "lifestyle".  Just as well she hadn't known any better.

I hope I'm not misunderstood - I don't actually take myself so seriously that I feel this way all the time.  I don't go around giving people evils for not "respecting kink".  I wouldn't want to be any part of a recognition movement called "kink pride".  I enjoy that D/s is fairly "underground" - it keeps it personal, and allows more freedom in some ways.  If kink were "out", there would be even more wannabes and fakers to find our way around, and no doubt the "rules" people try to promote as universal would be equally well known, and even more invasive than they already are.  I like it this way - when people are afraid to know, they mind their own business.

But sometimes, I want people to know what is important to me.  Sometimes I want to tell them that kink isn't just a new way of having sex.  And when people compliment me on that lovely necklace I have on, I wish I could tell them why I smile with pride.  Because it makes me happy, brings me excitement, and - yes, I'll admit it - makes me feel special.  But I can't be seen like the lesbian in the room can.

Next time you are in a group, and someone cracks a joke about kinky sex, have a look around.  Who there is not blushing or laughing?  Who looks a little more comfortable than the others with the subject matter?  Who looks a little bored, waiting for the nervous giggling to die down?  That's the person who knows something real about kink.