The Hazards of Deviance

This past weekend, Mina and I moved into the house we are renting now,  a vast improvement over the nice-till-you-get-to-know-it apartment we used to live at. However, since we had hired movers (probably a better decision than begging friends to help, as things would turn out) the normally laborious process wasn’t promising to be as nightmarish as it could be. The downside is that being the sorts of deviants that we are, with our enormous toy collection, and S&M paraphernalia supply, we had to move quite a bit of stuff ourselves so that we didn’t share more of our lives with the moves than we intended.  Of course, you never think of everything, and, naturally, one of our items did get left behind for them to find.

Now, as you think about this sort of thing, let me point out the universe of possibilities. Vibrators, in the grand scheme of things, really are not a big deal, unless yours has some especially striking features, like a picture of George Washington or the Virgin Mary or some such. A riding crop is iffy, but you never know, maybe she rides horses (which Mina does, and which is where our crop in fact came from). However, this time, what got left behind was the one item that leaves the least room for interpretation:

That’s right, the movers wound up packing our SLUT paddle for us. No good way to talk yourself out of that one, is there? We used to keep it hanging from the doorknob, so it didn’t get noticed with the other toys that live in one of the bins under the bed, or in its box in my nightstand, or laying next to the bins for easy grabbing, or in her drawer, for her lonely nights, or…well…you get the point. you can’t account for everything. 

—

As I was thinking about this experience, (which, in truth, only got gales of laughter from both of us) we went to the local pet store to get heaters for our aquariums. Tonight, Mina wore her collar out, although she wore a hooded sweatshirt as well, so the collar was not obvious, even though it was visible. As we were standing in line to check out, it dawned on me: we were at a pet store.  What if the checkout girl started to challenge us on the collar? It would take a while to prove we weren’t shoplifting, and that this collar was unlike the ones sold in the store. And how much of that conversation did I really want to have with some dipshit-with-a-keychain?

Of course, we did pass through without a problem, as well as the grocery store, and the restaurant we went to for dinner. But, it should be said, true deviance is not for the faint of heart.

Luckily, we are not faint of heart.