Even if this is your first visit to Vizionz a quick peek at the photos can tell you that this is a blog that has sexually related contact in it.

I had a hard decision to make when I launched Vizionz….how much of ‘me’ to show, because Vizionz would put me out on Front St, and nothing about me would be in the closet any longer.

It’s a hard sell to tell someone to mind their own business when you invite folk into your business.  Not a reader would know who I was or what I do, until of course, I tell you.

I decided to take that risk for a multitude of reasons.

Most of the folk who do what I do, hide it from plain view.   I know that because of my kinky community, I know it because of the number of readers who pop into Vizionz daily does not match the number of ‘likes’ on Facebook.

I know it because of the number of private messages I get about Vizionz….from folk who “can’t” be out in their daily lives.

I enjoy the luxury of being out.

I currently have no employer who would question what I do, and the potential employer who I may end up working for is ‘kinky’ as well.  I have sole legal and physical custody of my child, and a child’s father who is as interested in him as I am in the new season of Jersey Shore.  I have no husband who may want to divorce me, no consequence for the most part with stating loud and proud:  I AM KINKY! LIVE WITH IT!

I can be that way about my bisexuality, and I can be that way about my floggers.

I get that not everyone can, which is part of why I do this.

Although the terminology is a bit strange to some of you, there is nothing deviant or wrong about what I do.

There are things ‘wrong’ with me, but they have nothing to do with my sexuality.   There are millions who would say out loud that there is:  but I would also suspect that a large amount of those protesters engage in a little hair pulling behind closed doors so I hope they are not throwing those stones too hard.

While some of my tastes are rare and possibly extreme, between consenting adults?  What is the problem?

No children or animals were hurt in the creation of Nicole…nor will they be…homie don’t play that.

Yet the bulk of my community fears people knowing that they like leather and rope and spanking.

Were it up to me we would all walk out of the closet at the same time.  And bring the gays with us.  So that those who condemn and persecute could see, resistance is futile.  There are too many of us.  We are your mothers fathers daughters mailcarriers Walmart clerks Jiffy Lube mechanics firefighters cab drivers Senators students neighbors….all your bases are belonging to us.

I am Pollyanna enough to think that if we all said I am ______________ acceptance would come.  But they killed Harvey Milk for that didn’t they?

This is on my mind today because of a news story: Zanthia House

It appears that the reports of money exchanging hands is less than true…it appears….but it raises an issue for me none the less.

Being in or out of the closet.

I live in the state of Pennsylvania.  I am an exhibitionist.  What I enjoy is not just all of the kinky things that I do with Daddy behind closed doors, but ALSO the opportunity to go to a local dungeon or play party and watch and be watched by other kinky people.

In the great state of PA, it is illegal.  Totally.  Absolutely.  Without question.  Even between husband and wife in the privacy of their own home.  It is illegal.

Every time I go to a local play party, or play space I put myself at risk.

The police could come in at any moment and arrest everyone in the ding dang place.

It’s part of why I travel to NYC….it’s legal there.

I love being kinky, not so much being arrested.

Did it once…didn’t like it.

I look at this story and for the most part see it for what it is…someone with an axe to grind called the authorities now everyone who lives at and enjoyed Zanthia House must now pay the price.

But the bigger picture for me is…if we are out of the closet these types of things don’t happen.  You can only blackmail someone who has something to hide.  If all of your bones are out in the open?