This is a guest post by kaya of Underhishand.com.

My daughter found the key and rifled through our toybox about two years ago. She was 12. This absolutely and completely traumatized her. She had enough knowledge (most likely from the internet) to know what dildos and vibes and plugs were, cuffs and whips are pretty self-explanatory. Once it's found, there really is no denying it.

She didn't tell me at first. She told my mom. And she told the school counselor. There were no repercussions from the school, thank God (you worry about legal and child welfare things like that though). My mother, being the bible quoting, sex is dirty, masturbation sends you to hell type of woman that she is, spent long hours talking to my daughter about how wrong that stuff is. How there is something wrong with me, wrong with Master. I had no clue why my daughter was distancing herself from me. I didn't know what was making her so angry. She started fighting with me about letting her move in with her grandmother. I completely rejected the idea, of course! She's my daughter, no way was I going to let her go anywhere. My mother was also bugging me, telling me that I was making her miserable, that I should just let her be happy.

Then my daughter threatened suicide if I didn't let her move out. I was floored. I honestly just didn't know what was going on. I was heartbroken. We had always had a good relationship, she was my first-born, my miracle baby as I had been told I would probably never have kids. And she just seemed to hate me.

To make a long story short (yeah, like I can do that.), she did move out, and about a month after that, she told me what she had seen. She told me how angry she was that I was being abused. She said the sex toys were disgusting. She said I was disgusting. Master was disgusting. Everything was disgusting! She couldn't stand to look at me, she said.

When you get confronted with that, your first instinct is to deny it. But how do you tell someone they didn't see what they saw? How is denial or lies going to make it any less confusing? I went through a few days of conflict over how much if anything to tell her. At 12, she barely had the basics of relationships and sex. But I knew if I was going to get her back, I would have to talk. So talk I did.

Without going into intimate details of my own personal sex life, I explained as best I could, the toys, the whips, and the emotions involved. That it wasn't abuse. That it wasn't illegal. (She thought, probably from my mom, that those sex toys were illegal.) I told her that sex was much more than what she was learning in health class. That sex and intimacy are not disgusting, that it can and should be fun and exciting and meaningful and that's what the toys were for. That all different sorts of sensations, including a little pain, can be involved. That exploring what you like, with someone you love, is natural and normal.

I didn't go into the power exchange or the Master/slave stuff. I don't think she picked up on that, or at least she didn't ask about it.

She did move back home and while she has never again asked me about my toys, she will ask me anything else. It was a hard road and could have ended badly, almost did, but in the end, we are closer and more open. At 14 she's just starting her own explorations... first kisses and all of that. I like knowing she isn't afraid to talk to me now. She's asked me things like 'what does sperm taste like?' or 'what's up with butt sex, Mom?' And while each time my heart skips a beat and I still question how much info is too much, I at least know she'll come to me with things that arise.

I have two other kids who have no clue to this day why their sister moved out for that time. She's never told them about what she found and neither have I. What they have benefited from is the open and honest atmosphere that's developed. We are an affectionate, goofy, silly, fun family. Master makes no attempts to hide the fact that He finds me sexy, and vice versa. We'll often pretend to 'make out' if only to get the groans and "get a room" from the kids.

The toys have been moved to a padlocked cedar hope chest that sits in our bedroom. The kids believe it has Master's guns in it and He carries the key with Him. I don't call Him Sir or Master around them (though I have slipped a few times and hurried to cover it with a salute or a sarcastic comment, even taken to calling Him "My Lord" for shits and giggles. The kids think it's hilarious). Both of my daughters have started to take offense to the way I wait on Him and there have been a few conversations so far about that. Mostly what I stress to them is I do what I want to do, I do things to make Him happy because I love Him, the same as I do for them.

In this lifestyle, if you are living it, you take your chances with kids seeing or sensing things. And you learn to be careful and private too. My girls can no longer walk into the bathroom when I'm in the shower, I have too many scars that spell words..lol. That's not something I want to explain. The hooks in the bedroom ceiling hold a rope light in a frame around the bed, which is actually quite sexy and mood-inducing when we use it for the light. Various hooks in the basement hold Master's tools, lawn stuff, bikes, chairs, etc. The excess of rope we really DO use for other things, like tying things down in the back of Master's truck, so the kids think nothing of those things.

But prepare yourself for the possibility of being outed. It can happen no matter how careful you are.

My name is kaya. I’ve been a consensual BDSM slave to my Owner since 2004. I’m a housewifecunt, a servant of both the domestic and sexual variety. Both my daily and long-term goal consists of one thing: Please my Owner. Exactly how to please him changes depending on his desires at the time. Some days I succeed; some days I do not. You can follow kaya's life at Underhishand.com