Busted!

So as any doting parent would, my loving mother wanted so very much to help me pack up for my recent move. It was a big one, after-all, moving across country for the longest projected stretch that I'd ever been outside of my home state -- naturally I would be bringing along quite a load of cargo, and would of course, in her mind, appreciate any and all help she could offer.

Of course, this posed a certain dilemma to my kinky self -- sure, it would be nice to have her help, and appease some of her 'eldest child leaving the nest' syndrome, but how would I be sure that something terrifyingly kinky wouldn't pop up unexpectedly while we scoured through my belongings together?

I resolved to simply do an initial scouring myself, purging my room of anything remotely kinky (thongs, skirts, implements, vibrators, shoes far more fetish-y than would have been considered normal, fetish-related books, etc...) BEFORE she arrived to help me pack up the rest. I put everything I didn't want her to see into an opaque tub, with a snap-shut lid, placed it outside my bedroom door, and piled a bunch of other miscellaneous unimportant heavy things on top of and around it. The safest way I could think of to shield my particularly deviant interests from the one person in my life I would be most unwilling to share them with... :)

So, my mother came to town, and we set to work, going inch-by-inch through my room-full of belongings, deciding what I would take with me, what I could discard, and what she would take back with her to put in storage in my old room at her house, etc...

I knew that I'd put a lot of things I wouldn't need, and hadn't used all year, in the bottom of my closet, so I encouraged her to start going through that while I was looking through some old papers, deciding what was important enough to file away. She pulled out old books, a stuffed animal or two, stored materials for miscellaneous projects long since abandoned, and then, a plastic bag.

I didn't think twice about the bag, absorbed as I was in my stack of papers on the other side of my room, until my mother began unraveling it. Slowly, very slowly, as she quickly peeled away layers of plastic bag, I began to see more clearly what had been packed away inside. It was black, thin, and maybe a little over a foot long.

...[[insert an ineffable moment of intense panic here]]...

She finished unraveling, and out of the bag, into her hand, landed a black leather strap.

This black leather strap, to be precise...


Which is actually one of the meanest-looking implements I own, if in fact one of the least menacing in actuality...

How did I handle this inopportune situation? My fellow spankos -- I was so proud of myself!

Without missing a beat, as she turned to look up at me with the strap in her hand, I assumed a completely non-plussed, nonchalant expression and turned back to my papers as if nothing out of ordinary had happened, and intoned quite emotionless-ly, "Well, you can see why that was packed away under everything and completely forgotten..."

It had, in fact, been forgotten, although not for the reasons that I was implying.

She shrugged, quite innocently believing me, rolled it back up in the plastic bag, set it down, and went back to removing old belongings from the mysterious depths of my closet. I breathed, praying that nothing else of the kind would show up, and neither of us has mentioned the brief incident since! (*touch wood*)

By goodness, though, was that a scare. :D You can imagine where my heart jumped to in that instant -- I still get shivers just thinking about how much worse that could have been... *Phew!!*

At least I know that I will have the ability to handle it grandly, should there ever come another situation where I may feel just as unequivocally "busted" in the future... :D