Sex in Exile

Part I

The holidays are a time for family and so this year we are making the pilgrimage to my home town with a small detour to see ZG’s mother and father. Our families have very little in common (her’s are upper middle class suburbanites, mine are lower middle class country folk) but what they do share is a healthy fear of anything that varies from standard, erotic as an infomercial, sex. This puts a major kinkless kink into our daily living. Not just the loud violent sex, not just the threesomes but to the very way we interact in general. Some of the rules that have come to embody our relationship are off limits while we visit vanillalandia. Short dresses with knee-high socks and no panties are good for home but do not work at the in-laws. The language is toned down as well. For some reason the parents get nervous when ZG replies to me in “yes sir” “no sir” statements with her eyes cast down. So this means creative adaptations are called for.

Starting Simple
The easiest way to start getting through this morass is to have small secret commands that can be fulfilled with little interruption. Masturbation, small service orders, etc. These are the actions that can keep the D/s alive on the down-low. Now to expand this into a full fledged subconscious scene.

Part II

Good Morning
The boys are up. I hear them talking to their grandparents. I make sure the door is shut. One hand is cupped over her mouth. I push her head down into the bed hard. Her eyes flash open with fear and surprise. The other hand pulls roughly at her pajama bottoms. At home they would have been torn off. Inaccessible sleepwear is strictly verboten. Two fingers move between her labia pinching her clit between the middle and forefinger. I press hard into her pubis watching her eyes rolling back. A minute later she is begging for permission to come in muffled tones. I deny her because I can and work harder until she whimpers and squirms. Finally I release her and she starts to shake. I slide two fingers into her cunt and push hard on her g-spot. I pull my hand away from her mouth and kiss her good morning.

Part III

Two days with no sex and ZG is a wet hot mess. There was a failed attempt two nights ago after an evening with friends playing board games where everyone’s clothes stayed on and the insult of the night was aimed at a girl I went to school with.

“She’s a freak. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was into bondage and shit.”

We spent the night freaking the locals out with suggestions and innuendos. ZG enjoyed playing the suggestive Whore of Babylon and when we got home I found her asleep but dripping like a narcoleptic Niagara Falls. I threw her on her back and was just getting up to speed when the sound of snoring children shut that down fast. ZG was asleep so it did not cramp her style but for me it was only added frustration.

The next day was spent skiing and while this amplified the output of Zelda’s love geyser, unforeseen events involving a shower, shaving, blue cheese and a plunger shredded the evening’s potential into confetti and sprinkled it on my hopes and dreams. So two nights dashed but with a change of venue and our own room, things are looking better for our intrepid sexplorers tonight. Now let’s see if I can only come through on that Christmas present…


So the vacation was saved by a change of venue. When we moved from my mom’s house where the kids were sleeping at our feet to my dad’s house where kids had their own room, we were able to get our kink in the most mild of ways. We were still stymied by the fact that the house has paper thin walls (read: mobile home) and the fact that people were sleeping on all available surfaces but we made do and even got a bit creative with gags and bludgeoning devices. A few friends sent in requests and we did our best to be perverted enough for everyone.

What did we learn…
We learned that as much as our local community makes us feel that we are not outsiders, the truth is we still are. Large parts of the rest of the society are not willing to accept kink. Hell, a large segment is still homophobic and racist so getting them to accept that we are as we are is not going to be an easy task. The question I am pondering and put to anyone who will listen is this: should we try and change them? Is it worth it to try and make the rest of the society at large accept the way we are? There are far more outrageous atrocities than the fact that my brother does not understand rough body play and thinks that the occasional buttsecks is “freaky.” Is it worth the time and energy or is it something that can be left well enough alone? If we are not willing to come out about what we are truly like are we not just propagating the intolerance? Just food for thought.

3 comments on “Sex in Exile

  1. OregonMJW says:

    Good insight into your trip to “vanillalandia.” As for “coming out” and moving beyond the obvious double entendre, you might find it much more exciting in the long run to behave as you wish, as close to the edge as you dare, while maintaining the mental and emotional safety of those you also value – if in a different way.

    Kink, unlike homosexual attraction, and racial identity, is a voluntary choice. It might be argued that you cannot return to the missionary standard in your bedroom – no need to – it’s your bedroom. But all sexual relations should, in almost all situations, remain private. Private between yourselves, or between yourselves and your chosen community.

    Of course, such privacy need not include your readers. We’d actually be pretty fucking pissed off if that happened! ;D

  2. beyondthedepths says:

    I explored “being open” last year and found that making people uncomfortable didn’t appeal to me after all. I understand the need to be open, I prefer open relations but I do love people who are not like me. I want them to be comfortable around me.

    I don’t have a problem not cussing, not talking sex, keeping my inner thoughts to myself…etc. All things I do to try to make someone I enjoy feel comfortable and able to enjoy the time they spend with me.

    Keeping pieces of myself to myself is the plan for the year…or rather, sharing the appropriate pieces with the appropriate lifemates. I find it lonely sometimes but last year’s experiment didn’t work out all that well.


  3. @Charlie_W_ says:

    I have a habit of getting over excited and blurting. As such my parents know about me, a bunch of my friends know about me, a bunch of my parents friends know about me, even some of the people I work with, though I’m more careful in the office and obviously anyone I date finds out pretty quickly but I give different people different levels of information and perhaps I’m just one of the lucky ones but they’ve all been really intruiged and when they can’t been supportive they’ve wanted more information so they can understand my choices better.

    It’s been a very positive thing for us. I like sharing with them and although sometimes they tell me it’s too much information (rainbow play and figging are apparently not dinner table talk) I think we feel closer as a result. Though that closeness is probably a result of it not being a widely accepted choice so they value the risk I took in telling them.

    Not that I could have kept it to myself anyway. It was so exciting when I first started reading about it that much like a puppy with a squeaky toy, I simply had to go tell everyone I loved. But then also like that puppy, I seriously lack self control.

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