Perverted Knowledge

Oh how I shiver when people know! They know! And it shames me as much as it gives me a strange sort of pleasure. It is nothing short of hillarious and wonderous to witness the difference in reactions between me and my lover, Sir.

His words, last Friday, were as such: They would accept my if I was a gay man or a lesbian, and they will accept me for this. This was promptly followed by being held up by my neck and paraded for all to observe. Which they did, with a gentle, mocking scorn heaped on my lover. But I was so proud that I was his, so very very very very proud. To have someone who could accept our nature, or his nature, and that's what it meant. It meant that it was his nature. It isn't something I have coaxed him into, or forced him to do. It is his nature.

I am ashamed. I am ashamed and it puts me in a predicament when asked to do things which mean the complete surrender of my dignity. When asked to kiss the floor I hesitated. Hesitate! I ask you. Though I will gladly bend over, and I will gladly be pinned to whichever surface you like, or try my hardest to work on whatever task I've been given. I can say when that happens that it was under durress, there is deniability. Bit pitiful really. But the little rush of joy I get when I sit down and pain shoots up my thigh and my back is enough to comfort me.

But when people know! Oh! It is a guilty pleasure. The Shunt Lounge is by this point well aware of our extra-curricular activities. To be babysat (for want of a better word) by two perverts who are holding my leash, however pitiful they may be at punishment, is just...heaven really. To be referred to as nothing but 'it' is it's own reward. To have people know and accept is wonderous.

To have people know and be wary is also a guilty pleasure, though in a very different way, and I can't figure out if my flat mate knows or is just an awful pervert.

FM: Are you ok?
Me: Oh yes, well, no. I'm in trouble.
FM: Oh! Have you been a naughty girl.
Me: (Ignoring that and searching through my bag) I lost MM's credit card. I can't find it anywhere. Oh I'm in trouble
FM: Oh! Naughty ES, very very very naughty. Oh ES, ES, ES, ES. Bad little girl
Me: (catching on at this point) Yes, and I'm panicking a little at the moment.
FM: Well! Go sit outside and calm down then.
Me: (getting worked up to the point when almost any instruction would be taken) Yes, yes I will.

Now he's in the room next to us. I assume he's heard us fucking, and I assume he's heard me cry out when I've been whipped. If he can hear the riding crop or anything MM is saying though then the walls are officially too thin and I just have to stick up my chin and bear it.