Embarrassment, Humiliation and Pride

The last set of TMI Tuesday questions I answered were all about Formspring which prompted me to go back and look at the (few) questions which I had been asked there. One of them was from another blogger who I had met in person who asked ‘I am curious that you were more embarrassed by breaking a bit of my crockery than the fact you knew I had read about your intimate life’.

Let’s be clear, I’m very easily embarrassed. The questions also included one about roleplay. That’s certainly something I find embarrassing, and my response to that is to hide behind giggles and silliness because taking it seriously is far too hard. It’s hard because it’s revealing. Any acting, even with a script, if it is to be more than merely reading the words, must contain a part of yourself. That reveals as much as it hides and that frightens me. And yet, I write here with very little embarrassment. Despite a reasonable helping of Catholic guilt I’m not ashamed of who I am, nor of what I say here.

When I started this blog nobody other than Perrin (and at least one ex) knew that I was kinky. Sharing it here is easy though because I am removed from my readership. In contrast those people who know me will know that I find watching someone while they read what I have written to be very difficult. Meeting a reader is also simple because they already know about me. I have little fear of their reaction, because they must already accept who I am sufficiently to be still interested in meeting. The reverse situation, of  ‘coming out’ to someone who already knows me in a vanilla sense is much harder; I do not wish to alienate or offend them.

Having my words read is one thing, being physically seen to be kinky is another. My experience here is still limited, more than I might like indeed, but I have been spanked and had sex in public without feeling at all embarrassed. Certainly in the circumstances I had no fear of offending the onlookers and what I was doing was in context unremarkable. Also I did not know the onlookers well; I did not have to deal personally with their reactions or judgements, indeed I do not know what anyone watching may have been thinking.

When you are aware of the observer though, the stakes move up a notch. This is where humiliation (of the erotic kind) creeps in. Knowing that someone sees my submission, sees what I will do and endure for it, leaves me forced to confront it myself. My submission, my sexuality are real and exposed. I come face to face with my own sense of shame and feel the thrill of embracing that. Even writing here brings an element of that humiliation. Each post describing my submission forces me to admit what I am and helps deepen it within myself.
Sharing that in person is even more intense. Knowing that someone is watching and I am unable to conceal my actions or reactions. Looking in their eyes afterwards knowing they have seen that side of me is a challenge but an exciting one.

With a willing and appreciative observer though I can move from humiliation to exhibitionist pride. Enjoying being watched, putting on a show, revelling in displaying what must so often be kept hidden. Pictures posted here give me a way to flaunt myself. Walking semi naked through a crowded room enjoying being on display was a delightful thrill. Given the right opportunity I can be proud of my body, my sexuality and myself. I can enjoy being a sexy little slut.

All of this results in a heady mix of emotions which can intensify even a simple sexual moment.
Even if all I’m doing is writing about it.

Author: Caitlin

Geeky, kinky and poly. Discovering my Domme side. Sometimes NSFW and 18+.

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