Parenthood & BDSM, Part 9: When You Just Don’t Fit In With Vanilla Parents

Good Afternoon Friends!

I hope you all are having a fabulous day. This afternoon I’d like to talk about parenting, and how kinky parents go through things that vanilla parents likely never stumble over. It’s the little things that set us apart, and the moments that make us turn our heads and chuckle. In today’s post, I have 4 separate stories to share with you about moments that I’ve personally encountered that set me apart quickly from the vanilla pack of parents. But first, here’s a little background. When it comes to being a parent, I’ve been blessed. I’ve had three beautiful girls, and raised one of them still today. My youngest was born when I was 23 years old. I was young to have a child, too young (now that I have matured and know better). But that’s neither here nor there.

When my angel was born, I was too young to fit in with the other moms holding newborns. As she has grown, now that I’m in my 30’s, I blend in a bit more easily with the parent pack. Still, there are little things that set me apart. At this stage in my life I don’t mind marching to my own beat. I walk to a different rhythm in life and that’s okay. Are you ready to get a giggle out of these 4 random encounters? Then, let’s dive in. ❤

I. When Your Job Has to Do with the Kink Community: 

When it comes to my “job” I wear many hats. I’m a mom, wife, submissive (twice over), daughter, author, and blogger. I keep myself busy. I’ve noticed that it’s always a funny thing when I’m meeting fellow vanilla parents. Usually they fire off the “big three” questions, as I like to call it:

  • What is your name?
  • Which kid is yours? (Looking at the group of children)
  • And what do you do for a living?

The last question is innocent enough. As parents we want something to relate to and chit chat about, other than our beautiful offspring. We’re looking for commonality and I understand that. However, as a kink blogger… this can be awkward territory. Now, I’d like to think that my radar is pretty good when it comes to spotting a fellow kinkster. We have a “swagger” when it comes to our demeanor. We can be a bit chill and warm, though that’s likely from all of the sex we get at home (lol). Don’t get me wrong, there are serious kinksters aplenty, and those that walk down the street in bondage gear. (Mad props if you do!). But on the whole, when we’re all in street attire, I’d like to think my radar is pretty spot on.

Except for when it’s not. This particular day my radar decided to take a vacation.

I had taken my kiddo to the park and it was summertime. Read between the lines: it was blazing hot, so every parent sat wedged together on the playground benches soaking up the shade. I, along with the other pack of parents, sat there doing the polite smiles at one another, while watching our children frolic on the equipment together. It was harmony. It was chaos. It was innocent childhood glee. And then the questions began. We said hello and greeted each other. I sat next to a thin brunette mother who also had an infant in tow. She looked tired. I looked tired. We could seemingly relate. We swapped names, and pointed out our children. Things were going swimmingly.

This woman seemed chill. Zen even. Behind her exhaustion, my radar seemed to buzz at the familiar tingle of similarity between me and this stranger. “So what do you do for a living?” I asked first. (I always try to sneak in there first and keep the focus on the other parent instead of on myself. That’s a pro-tip for small talk). “Oh my husband and I make swings” she said with a grin. Perhaps it was in that grin that I misunderstood. Swings? What kind of swings?, I wondered. My brain went to sex swings. Intrigued, I pressed on, asking what kind of swings they made. “Oh well actually it’s quite complex!” she bubbled, thinking I was interested in purchasing one, “there’s special engineering for the harnessing system… and we use heavy duty material for the seat area…”. She went on and on but my brain heard: harness, heavy duty material, and swings. I was positive she and her husband worked in the sex toy industry, which seemed so cool! My walls came down a bit. I smiled looking relaxed. “So what do you do?!” she smiled at me. “I’m a kink blogger!” I said in a friendly tone, “I write about BDSM”.

Y’all…. you would have thought I splashed the poor woman with ice water. Her jaw dropped in shock and horror as she stammered for a solid three seconds. In those three seconds my brain went from, “Yay! A new friend!” to “Oh no…. it’s not THOSE swings. She must have meant…. playground swings!!”. YIKES! “You… write about SEX?!” she asked in disbelief, her eyes as big as saucers. I began to blush. “Um… I do” I said carefully, now looking for my child to make a quick exit. Bells were blaring in my head <Abort mission! Abort mission! Mayday! Mayday!>. Speechless I stood up and went to get my child. Needless to say, we didn’t return to that playground… ever. (lol).

II. When Small Talk Gets Awkward: 

Now the rule of thumb in the BDSM community is, “never scare, “scar”, or do something around vanilla people that would violate their consent”. I follow this rule pretty religiously. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve stood among vanilla people, smiling, making small talk, and yet in my head there’s an internal dialogue that is just hilarious and loud. I’ll give you an example. I was standing with some ladies once at this Toddler Time that I used to take my kiddo to. We all came every week so we began to become “friends” (I’m using that term loosely here). Week after week, we would attend this parks and rec place and sit with coffee and crappy cookies chatting while our kids played together in the rec room on equipment. Okay, fine. One time we were all sitting around chatting and I was listening quietly when another woman said.

Mom A: I’m so excited for this weekend!

Mom B: Oh?

Mom A: My husband is going to take me away for the weekend. It’s our anniversary.

(We all do the required “aww” sound and smile at her).

Mom A: I know! (lowers her voice) I even went and picked out something naughty!

Group: Oh what is it? Tell us!

Mom A: I got a lacy… bra! (gasps!)

(The other mothers cluck and chuckle, acting like it’s the most risque thing in the world).

Meanwhile, in Camp Kink-land, my brain is going: “Wait… WHAT?! You call that naughty?! Lady, naughty is a 12 inch dildo! Naughty is a suspension harness or an anal hook! Naughty is nipple clamps and a matching butt plug. No! A butt plug with a TAIL! Ha!”. Yeah, needless to say, I didn’t speak aloud any of those thoughts hehe!

III. Our Reasons For Exhaustion Are Different: 

I’ve always wondered what would happen if the next time a vanilla parent says, “I’m tired” aloud to another parent, who happens to be kinky, if that parent replied, “Me too. I’m exhausted from the spankings my dom gave me last night”. I wonder if the vanilla parent would do a double take? Would they gasp aloud? Would they secretly seethe in jealousy at wanting to be broken similarly? Would they go home and tell their vanilla partner to give them the fucking of their life?! Who knows! But I would pay money to see that happen lol. One thing I do know for sure is, us kinkster parents are usually tired for more than the standard: my kids keep me running. We’re also tired from multiple play sessions. We’re sore from impact play. We’re exhausted from servicing our doms, and eating our submissives until they squeal. We’re tired from the spankings until our bums are red and lightly bruised, and we’re spent from the many, many orgasms we receive. Yes… our exhaustion is definitely due to many reasons. Pinterest surfing is not one of them. 😉

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IV. Our Idea of “Fun” is Drastically Different: 

When my husband and I were beginning our D/s journey, we were adventurous in doing things we didn’t normally do. One night we went out with a group of friends (as couples, the kiddo had a babysitter) for dinner. We met up at a nice restaurant and parked in a parking garage. Dinner was lovely. We all laughed and had a good time. My husband, who was driving, suggested that I “let loose” and have a strawberry margarita. “I’m down!” I said, feeling frisky and relaxed. The cold drink tasted heavenly with my tacos. But little ol’ me hardly ever drinks (read: once every several years!) so one margarita and I was feeling buzzed. Not drunk! But tipsy enough to not have the best judgement. 😉 The hour was drawing late and all the couples paid their bills and headed out into the night to part ways. My husband and I were laughing, arm in arm as we walked back to the car. He knew that I was tipsy and wanted to have a bit of fun. We could see our car down the fairly sparse parking garage illuminated in the distance.

“Take off your top” he said, stopping me in my tracks. I blinked at him through the haze. “Huh?” I asked squinting. <Did he just ask me to….?> I thought. “Take off your top and walk back to the car” he smirked. He knew public humiliation was both a turn on, a thrill, and a fear of mine. I started laughing. The alcohol gave me the courage I needed. Now, I think he meant for me to leave my bra on. I really do. Because when I ripped off my top and my bra he blinked at me! “Woohoo!” I said, waving them over my head and sashaying towards our car. I have no doubt that some people saw my boobs that night. I got in the car topless. We drove home through busy, local streets while I was topless. It was exhilarating and freeing all at the same time. He kept looking over, grinning like an idiot, marveling my spontaneity in the moment. Vanilla peeps probably wouldn’t find that to be “fun”. But it sure was a fun night. 😉

Alright my friends, that’s it for this post. I hope you all enjoyed it. If you did, hit that like button and let me know! Smash that follow button to hang around here for some more fun posts and I will see back here for the next topic!

Much love,

~Kitten/Punkin Xx

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