Concealer

I have a colleague at my office who has, gradually over time, gained knowledge of my kinky side. Whether it's from his occasional strolls into my den where he'll catch me gazing at a glossy image of some ball-gagged and bound gal in shiny black latex or he'll remark about my grasp of sexual slang like "Cleveland steamer" or "going Commando". When he sees the image blazing up to his eyes from my screen, he wants to see more, but i know better. I always decline his requests because i know that what i possess on my computer is considerably more perverse than a glossed-up rubber doll, and two things will happen should i take him down my rabbit hole.

The first being that it will shock him, similar to coaxing someone, who has never experienced it, to leap into the ocean in the dead cold of winter. It will attack their system. I've learned that in order to really allow someone to have a substantially beneficial experience with SM, you must gradually, slowly introduce them to the concept and its practice. Otherwise, flashing him a bunch of material would merely serve to startle him which is not at all interesting to me. It's bad enough that he thinks to send me every bizarre news story about some dominatrix arrested in Boca Raton, or makes a whipping reference ("we need to really whip them into action...") during a meeting and looks directly at me as if i should appreciate it. I don't really want to be someone's kink ambassador, let alone this guy who succinctly gets on my nerves more than anyone else in the workplace.

The second , and much more serious thing that would occur would be the potential loss of anonymity. I hold a place in my industry and my community that should my authorship of "The Lustful Quality..." be found out, my life would be dramatically affected. In fact, i had a recent scare where i was certain that someone at work had sniffed me out. I monitor, fairly regularly, the tracking software i initially installed on this site. One morning i came across the footprint of someone who had accessed this journal from the very same work IP address and domain that i use. Immediately, i thought it was the aforementioned irritating gentleman. I got very afraid. I printed out the web page of evidence, and then carefully stalked around my high-rise office floor, fully anticipating that at any minute some colleague would come up to me and offer me their sarcastic greeting:

"Hi, Deity."

For the record, it never happened. I can't explain how the tracking system indicated that some underling had landed on transformher.blogspot, but it brought up a larger point that i never forget, but sometimes don't address as much as i should.

I've been writing in this space for over a year now (yes, i recently, discreetly celebrated my one year anniversary) and while i'm mighty proud of the interaction, the community and the somewhat mildly heralded niche i've carved out in the land of kinky web journalists, i cannot for sake of my own longevity, share this with those in my everyday life. Basically, i hide beneath the cloak of a theistic honorific in order to explore what is essentially a prime component of my base material, but because we live in the society that we do, i must conceal this quotient of mine. Recent happenings in the UK offers further reason why those of us who regularly practice SM are not safe.

If you haven't heard about these developments, the usually forward thinking folks of the United Kingdom are on the precipice of vaguely outlawing any pornography that features bondage or, especially, corporal punishment (i.e. spanking and flogging). This saddens me on a personal level, because i believe that it is a drastic, albeit perhaps too late, response to some tragic events that happened which were loosely connected to the exploration of SM. On a larger level, it frightens me. It offers further reminders of the intolerant and misunderstanding world i live in, but more importantly, from which i must hide a certain significant part of myself.