BDSM in Mayberry (revisited)

I spent the day today cleaning and working on the yard for L's return home tomorrow night. I have always had this philosophy that when someone comes home from a trip, home should be made to feel as much as...home...as possible.

We live in a nice suburban neighborhood. Both of us have always joked about living in Mayberry...wanting to live in Mayberry. Nice picket fence, folks waving to their neighbors, pies cooling in the window, yada yada.

Well, it's not quite like that where we live, but close. Drive by the house on any given night in the summer and it looks pretty gosh darn normal. Kids playing on the trampoline, a friendly man (me) grilling on the bbq, relatives stopping by to say hello. We get a lot of traffic where we live as we live close to a busy road and are on the corner of a road going into one of the nicer neighborhoods in our town. So there is an image to maintain, of sorts. L has always wanted that in this house with her previous marriage, and didn't quite get there. I know how much she wants that, so I try and do my best to present that. Because I like it also. I am at heart a family man...a Dad...a Ward Cleaver of sorts. I love the feeling of that, the thought of that...coming home to a wife and kids, in a scene that Norman Rockwell could have painted.

I want that.

But I want something more with it.

TEXT EXCHANGE BETWEEN S AND L ON SATURDAY, JUNE 8 (after S had planted flowers and sent L a picture)

L: Wow.

S: We live in Mayberry and have an image to maintain.

S: Mayberry on the outside.

S: Ball gagged fucktoy on the inside.

S: That is how I want it and that is how it shall be.

L: Love you.

And it is how I want it. I am more than happy to present vanilla to the outside world, but behind the bedroom door, I want it to be TTWD. More than that. We are 24/7 D/s, so there are guidelines that have to be established in day to day life. If we are having people over for a friendly backyard bbq, L knows she has to behave a certain way around me, even if it is unknown to others. She mouths off to me, or does something she knows she is not supposed to, I can give her The Look, and she knows her ass is in for it later.

People come over, and we have this little dog named Missy that everyone loves, and Missy wears a collar, but wouldn't people be surprised to know that Missy is not the only pet in the house who wears a collar? There is a garden, and there are bamboo sticks that support some of the flowers, and little do people know of the bamboo stick in our closet that I use to punish L with. People ooh and aah over our nicely renovated bedroom, but little do they know of what goes on in there, and if they were to look behind the headboard they would find ropes attached to the underside of the bed.

God help us if they look into the closet and pull out my box of tricks.

I like having this "dark" side, of secrets, of things that L and I do that bring us to much pleasure, that define us and our relationship in a world that only the two of us know about. Oh, and the rest of you reading this blog, but you are just as kinky as we are, so hey, don't judge bitches.

I suspect we are not alone in Mayberry.

As I worked on the lawn today, Missy trotting behind me with every step of the mower, me waving to cars as they drove by, I couldn't help but wonder what other secrets existed behind closed doors in our Mayberry.

Because they are out there, and just as no one would expect that L and I do what we do, there are others doing things that we would not guess. There are marriages in Mayberry where there is infidelity, spouses having repressed feelings. Hidden addictions. Abuse. There are evil secrets. There are good secrets.

There are secrets.

There are husbands, I suspect, who would love to give their wife a golden shower but would never in a million years bring it up. There are wives reading "50 Shades of Grey" while their husband snores next to them, wishing he were Christian Grey, and wondering what it would be like to be bound and spanked. There are men who masturbate to gay porn while their wife sleeps, wives who hide credit cards debt, there are children who sneak outside to do drugs, and so on and so forth.

There are secrets in Mayberry just as there is anywhere else in the world, because people are people, and people have secrets and demons that they deal with, from pastors to teachers, presidents to homeless people. Men and women alike. Because secrets and demons care less about gender, ethnicity, socio-economic status.

Here, in the Mayberry of L and I, there are no secrets between the two of us, just the secret that we have between us and keep to ourselves.

(Oh, yeah, and the rest of you. Are you still reading? Good lord, there must be something good on tv...)

And I like that.

I like our world.

It is us, living and breathing, growing and expanding, our adrenaline shot, our earth shattering orgasms, our existence.

And it is just us.

P.s. Aunt Bea was a total fucking Domme who pegged Barney Fife on a regular basis. While Opie watched.