Hiding Behind a Mask of Sin

Do you think engaging in various acts of BDSM, longing to be whipped, or having a desire for someone other than your spouse is a sin? Do you crave one or all? Be honest. I know, you’d hide everything about your desires, wouldn’t you? I write about sin all the time and I love it. I love the way the word rolls on my tongue. I thought the thought of doing very sinful things. Does that make me wrong or a horrible person?

I’ve written many a blog about hiding behind a mask. We all tend to hide portions of Evocative oneourselves from the outside world, terrified of what others will see. Or find out. I was in the middle of writing a rather frivolous blog about whether colors identify personality traits and something struck me. Perhaps it’s the rather difficult conversations I’ve been having with John Patrick these past ten days or so, and I don’t mean in subject matter. His spirit is one of the darkest I’ve ever known. His mood swings are not necessarily manic – but the swing is tremendous.

Any of you who have read the blogs know he’s a moody chap, his darkness grabbing at the tender and gentle man inside, pulling him into silence and the inability to cope.

He’s highly affected by what’s going on around him and when you mix too many life altering changes or significant moments of stress, his entire mind races behind a mask. His best friend told me today depending on who asks him a question is whether or not he’ll answer. For those he knows well, he says nothing. For a basic stranger, he’ll answer readily. Why? His emotions are off kilter and his soul truly pushed to the edge of what he can handle. He can’t let go of the tenuous hold or he’ll break.

I’m not saying he’s fragile. We all have aspects of our lives that at times are too much to deal with. When I told my BFF today she sighed and wasn’t certain how I can handle. I have since day one. No, I’m not some magical miracle worker. I simply let the light into his soul, embracing he dark side and understanding his needs. Still, even with me he has a difficult time getting to personal with conversations. He needs a break from his own mind so we chat about stuff – just basic stuff.

What I do see about him, given we’ve gone through two rounds of pretty much being told our relationship is wrong, is that he embroils himself in these emotions. I realize women tend to become very emotional at a snap, crying over some things men shake their heads over. I do think being emotional, as in showing the effects of anger, sadness or joy releases our bodies of tension. Men tend to harbor everything inside until when released, we’re talking an explosion. When you add the concept that you’re a sinner, told you’re a wretched soul, the majority of people either push away the thought or delve inside of themselves to determine the truth. Reflection can be very good, allowing a cleansing of the soul. Reflection can also create monsters in our own mind, ones that if left unchecked will turn into reality to some degree.

I know this as my nightmares alone would make the majority of people run away in terror. Have the bloody gore events been turned into books? Yes, but I had to come to terms with the fact I’m a tortured soul and I do this to myself. I’m very good at hiding the limitsmajority of my fears, but they surface in many ways.

Remember when I’ve mentioned how much being controlled, disciplined truly helps this raging side of me? Now you see why. They keep the demons at bay. I can be very emotional for an entirely different reason. For John Patrick, his release is in the act of disciplining me. Being able to whip me is a very cathartic moment. Don’t get caught up in the basic of ‘he’s beating you to feel better’ crap. That’s not what we’re talking about. The deep seeded need we both feel is much more intense and all-encompassing than I ever realized.

We all fall into moments of self-doubt too. I think as we get older, we honestly believe we’re supposed to be in a certain ‘place’ in our life. Between family and our friends, the career we always wanted to have and retirement set, we’re supposed to be happy and fulfilled. Right? Guess what? Life doesn’t work out that way. So many of us are very unhappy. So many hide behind this mask of pretending to be something we’re not. We’re terrified to tell anyone around us, let alone our spouse or perhaps a very good friend that we simply can’t live the life we’ve been practicing any longer.

There are various methods in which to find solace or indulge in our sins, relieve stress, or simply ignore the real world. For many of us, we drink – often to excess to dull the pain. Of course we may have been social drinkers in our youth, going out to party with friends and enjoy the high life. Years or decades later and we’re drinking to avoid dealing with crap in life. I had a chat with a man today, one I’ve never met, in which he’s merely longing for the human touch of his wife. She never touches him period, let alone agrees to any sexual intimacy. She made the mistake of asking him at the wrong moment, what would happen if she wasn’t able to have sex any longer. His replay – granted after getting home after nine pm from a meeting – was, ‘would you let me out of the marriage to find affection?’ Wrong answer. However, I understand completely.

With John Patrick and myself, we found a connection so quickly, the ability to open up within literally minutes, and after we were comfortable, bam. The exploration into BDSM and a D/s relationship was almost a requirement. We rushed into enjoying and learning, growing and teaching each other every day. I wanted to submit to him and his absolute need to dominate me grew into the sadistic darkness I’ve been talking about.

I’ve had to sit back and really think about what’s he’s been saying. His psyche yanked him back from his dark need because of such extreme terror of himself. Isn’t that sad? He’s been shoved and processed into a certain way that anything pushing the norm is sinful. Sin is wrong. Sin should be eradicated. Our mothers and fathers told us any aspect of sin means you’ll go to Hell. Hmmm… Well, I suppose there is a lot of sin around us. Men and women go to strip clubs, have affairs. Some couples go to kink clubs, allow themselves to be whipped by perfect strangers.

In some families, you’d never suspect the person who is the abuser, or the drug addict given their lifestyle or connections. You’ve seen the men and women on the news, good people who held the position of Treasurer in their church and were arrested for embezzling. Yes, this is a mixed back of breaking the law to people’s opinions about what’s right and wrong, but the activities can hurt people. The activities can also Signs of a Good Domsoothe people. What happens if the sinners confess their sins? Will they go to heaven? Then again, who says what is right and wrong, God? The laws governing our country? Our parents? Our spouse? Hmmm… People often fly to religion after horrific things have happened in their life as well as any of the sins above.

A few weeks ago he and I had a very interesting conversation about religion. I’m not very religious and while he believes in a greater being than ours, he’s not one to suggest God is the only source. I mentioned in an earlier blog that there is an entire Fetlife group devoted to BDSM. He and I kinda scratched out heads thinking the two don’t mix. What I’ve come to at least absorb is that perhaps they are the most well rounded individuals of all. They’ve accepted their needs with regards to BDSM with their God. They’ve grasped the ability to free themselves of the self-imposed chains so many of us place on ourselves and our behaviors. Of course I mentioned some of the extremes in previous paragraphs, but there are so many of us who hide behind this tightly woven mask because of our sexuality alone, or our desire to simply be loved and touched. We pretend so much, we have no idea who we are inside. Talk about damaging. When I see JP struggling with his own sense of self-worth, I become sad, nurturing and nearly violent with anger, longing to lash out at the people who’ve done everything to undermine the man. Then I realize. He’s hurt himself the most.

Tolerance. Remember the word. Be tolerant of other’s needs. Acceptance. Accept your own. Learn to love and embrace who you are. Our society seems to be less tolerant, not more as the generations go by. I don’t know. I’ll still enjoy sin – merely in moderation.

Kisses and spanks…


About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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