It all falls down…

Most days, my biggest concern is making sure the other moms don’t see my strap on when they swing by to drop off the kids. You worry that you’ve hidden all the vet wrap, or that your kid doesn’t pull out a flogger and yell “ISS MY OCTOPUS!!!!” as he runs around flailing it in the hall. Most days, that’s your biggest fear.

Until the mortgage company comes a’calling. See, as un-dommely as I may sound, I actually can’t handle everything myself. At the end of the day, no matter how much leather or latex you have in your closet, you’re still a full time mom with a full time job, and a side business that you’re trying to start up. So you can’t handle everything, and you rely on your partner to keep trucking along with what they’ve been doing. That was my husband. For the past 3 years, he’s been managing the mortgage and house-related expenses. Until 3 months ago. Three months ago, he suddenly stopped paying the mortgage on our old house without telling me. It wasn’t until we began getting collection calls at our new place that I got concerned and followed up. I thought it was a scam; someone calling, trying to get my personal information. Just to prep myself, I sent my darling husband a text:

“Hey babe! Have the mortgage payments been going through?”

Him: “No idea.”

Me: “Wait, WHAT?”

Him: “I thought you were handling this.”

…the details are unimportant. What matters is, when you love and trust someone, and they let you down in one of the most profound ways possible, it sends you into shock. As a Domme, I’m used to watching people get close to physical shock from what I do. I can hold them on the edge of pleasure or pain for as long as we both want… but when your world, your VANILLA world, threatens to teeter on the edge of collapse, you have no place to turn. It doesn’t matter how many safe words you have, because this isn’t  a scene, and your trust has been well and truly violated. As mine was. Had he gone out and fucked a girl from The Scene, then turned around and said, “Honey, I am deeply sorry and it will never happen again,” I would have cried, but we would have worked it through together. But this was a violation so deep…

Him: “I thought you were handling this.”

No, you didn’t. You got bored of handling it yourself, and you banked on the fact that I would come in at the last minute and save the day. I would take control, because that’s what I do.

But the difference here is, while I may do it in a scene with a client, this was not negotiated, and this is without my consent. This is yet one more thing I HAVE to take control over, because I have no choice. Because without the dommely side of me, it just all falls down.


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