negotiating a photo shoot

My discussions with my friend Lucas about doing a shoot together have been continuing apace. We arranged to Skype last weekend, mostly so I could do some show and tell of clothes and accessories.

I would have liked to use my laptop for the purpose, but my internal speakers stopped working after my forced upgrade to Windows 10. It’s a driver issue and, because I usually use headphones or external speakers, not quite irritating enough for me to spend the time figuring it out. But it turns out that my microphone also doesn’t work. I figure that’s a driver fuck-up too.

I knew the call would be long and I needed the phone plugged in, so I started by finding the best-placed outlet. Then I looked around the house for something I could use as a stand, and found a soft plastic soap-dish thing with slats between which the phone would fit. But the slats weren’t deep enough to support the weight of the phone at the slight angle necessary to keep me in frame, so I put a book behind the soap dish and let the phone lean against that. High tech!

Over the course of an hour or so, I pulled various likely items out of the closet to show Lucas. He liked almost everything, so the limiting factor is going to be how much I want to pack and haul.

The nature of the shoot is starting to take shape too. The overall tone is going to be artistic. There will be some regular non-fetish photos, and we’ll also try some rope bondage, starting with ties that look cool but don’t actually restrict movement, and working up in intensity from there, within my comfort zone. There is a possibility of partial suspension if I’m inclined to try it.

A couple of days later, we exchanged some sample photos. He wanted to show me his rigging and editing skills. I wanted to show him the photography styles I like and some of the clothes in action, and just show off a little. He found my photos inspiring, which I consider a great compliment.

He likes the look of gags and suggested it as an idea, and my first reaction was that I should agree to try it, even though I wasn’t especially keen. But I realized that this was my old habit of going along with things because I think I ought to for some reason. So I informed him about that habit and gave him some ideas of how to help me avoid that pitfall. He acknowledged that gags are intense and not for everyone, and reassured me that there is no wrong answer and it’s important to him that I’m happy.

Our friendly discussion seems to be developing into more focused and deliberate negotiation, which reminded me that although this project isn’t about sex, it will be sexy. We haven’t had a BDSM checklist chat, but I’d be ready for it.

We’ve set tentative dates (a little less than two months away), chosen to coincide with a fetish club night. I think the whole trip is going to be a blast.

Sinful Sunday: the wall

Last week’s Sinful Sunday post was about being open. Vulnerability doesn’t come easily for me – it’s an aspiration.


Protecting myself is the deeply ingrained default, learned at home. Damaging romantic relationships later on buttressed the wall that was already there, massive yet imperceptible (at least to me). Despite my blindness to it, I managed to open a Wolf-sized gate. My relationship with Gawan has helped me to finally perceive the wall and has inspired me to start demolition.

It’s a big project.

Edit: Guest judge Bambi from Girl, Uninterrupted chose my photo for the Round-up this week (thanks Bambi!) and said:

This is a truly beautiful image and evokes so many feelings in me. Being vulnerable is so difficult for so many of us and this image and her words really resonate with me. At first glance it looks as though she’s protecting herself, arms over her chest, afraid… but when I look further, I see a looseness in her hands as though maybe she’s thinking about letting go. Her stance doesn’t look afraid to me, it looks strong and empowered.

badge Sinful Sunday

TMI Tuesday: the sexes

TMI Tuesday blog


1. What is femininity to you? Tell us in 50 words or less. Fifty words or less? Try fifty pages or less. But in blurb format: “femininity” is a set of behaviors and appearances that are coded in the culture as being appropriate or desirable for females to express. Because binary thinking is prevalent in the culture, the traits of “femininity” and “masculinity” are mutually exclusive, so “femininity” is thus inappropriate or undesirable for males to express.

2. How does femininity come into play in your sexual relationship? If I dress to be sexy, I tend more often to choose clothing and adornment that is considered “feminine”: skirts, dresses, toweringly high heels, makeup.

Note: It happens that I’m interested in BDSM and prefer the submissive role. It also happens that the cultural definition of “femininity” includes sexual submissiveness. But I categorically reject the notion that submission is an inherently female trait (and I’m sure male submissives would agree with me on the point). My submission is an expression of self in the context of a specific relationship. It is not an expression of gender.

3. What does masculinity mean to you? Tell us in 50 words or less. See #1, mutatis mutandis.

4. Men, we often hear about women’s body image struggles–what are your body image issues? N/A.

5. Men’s gender role conflict is a psychological state in which restrictive definitions of masculinity limit men’s well-being and human potential. Do you now or have you ever suffered from men’s gender role conflict? What are you doing to resolve this? N/A. But I will say that because men’s gender role conflict limits men, all men suffer from it in some way. However, if men don’t perceive that they’ve suffered from it, that may be because the culture is on the whole structured to benefit men more than women (viz. patriarchy).

Bonus: Does gender have any real meaning anymore? Did it ever have any “real” meaning? A person’s genitals are a physical fact, but nothing aside from a few obvious physical conclusions (e.g. a person requires ovaries and a uterus to become pregnant) can be deduced from this. The body has no inherent meaning – all meaning is assigned, and it’s almost entirely arbitrary. If gender appeared to have meaning before and appears not to now, perhaps it’s because the construct is starting to be seen as such.

How to play TMI Tuesday: Go to the TMI Tuesday blog and copy the questions. Paste them to your blog and answer them there (with a link to TMI Tuesday Blog). Then go back to the TMI Tuesday blog post and provide a link to your post in the comments.

addressing doubts one step at a time

I regularly go for walks on a favorite route that’s cheery and pleasant and fairly quiet. There’s a certain kind of thinking that happens at a walking pace, and I found myself thinking a lot on that route.

At a walking pace, I analyzed my “first date” with Gawan. There were good bits on that trip and bits that were less good. Overall it felt neutral. Our connection via email and Skype was good and strong, but in person something seemed to be missing. Our last hours together were during a long, tiring and stressful travel day, and as I climbed aboard the shuttle bus and saw him wave from the door of the hotel, I checked in with how I was feeling, looking for sadness and disappointment about our parting. There wasn’t any.

I’m sensitive and I absorb a lot of information so when new things happen it takes me time to process; I wasn’t likely to come up with answers during the trip itself.

I’ve never had a relationship start online before. When we finally met for the first time, maybe I was simply flooded with the whole collection of real-life little details and just needed some time to internalize what I would have picked up over the course of months in an ordinary courtship. Physical presence. Body language. The approach–crest–dissipation of a smile. How quickly he walks. Would he steal food off my plate, or object if I stole from his? Bandwidth limitations subtly interrupt the flow of conversation, and Skype’s simulation of eye contact is pure fakery.

We had both already said “I love you” many times, but even though we were, for once, close enough to touch, I sensed a different kind of distance. Why? He had been somewhat ill throughout the trip, so maybe he didn’t seem like himself because he didn’t feel like himself. Also, the location we chose ended up being a lot of work, and a great deal of energy that would have been better spent on each other instead went into the most basic of tasks.

There was definitely still something between us though. Maybe the first meet was always going to be challenging. Maybe when we chose our destination we bit off more than we could chew. I concluded that the first date likely wasn’t representative and that I should give it another try. I wanted to meet again, preferably someplace easier, ideally on his home turf. See who he is when he’s at home, literally.

During moments of play, I had noted that I was only doing things I’d done in high school (i.e. not much), and that this felt oddly comforting. But later I was shaken when I realized that my epiphany hadn’t actually transformed my thinking about sexuality as completely as I’d both believed and hoped. If the hang-ups were absent with Wolf but present with Gawan, then I hadn’t had an attitude overhaul — I’d simply created an exception for Wolf, and sex with anyone else was still fundamentally scary.

At a walking pace, I dissected my epiphany, shaved off slices and put them under the microscope. I recalled that trusting Wolf had come first and intuited that trust was the key here. Even though I already trusted Gawan more than anyone aside from Wolf, it somehow didn’t seem like enough. Why not? Sex makes me feel incredible vulnerable, like handing someone a razor-sharp knife and baring  my belly. I wanted to resolve this issue before our second date, which would give me months rather than the years it had taken the first time, and I fervently hoped I could figure it out in that time. I fed my trust of Gawan by meditating on what he had already shown me: interest, empathy, kindness, support, patience, being unequivocally on my side and never diminishing me in any way. And I eased down my excessively high threshold by asking myself what more I could reasonably expect him to do or say (conclusion: nothing), and questioning whether the feeling of not enough trust was because I didn’t trust myself.

At a walking pace, I examined monogamy. Cheating — unilaterally breaking an agreement you have with someone who trusts you — is wrong. But through respectful (re)negotiation, the parties should be able to agree to any terms they like. I don’t think that sexual non-exclusivity is inherently wrong, but it is entirely unfamiliar to me. I’d been monogamous forever. Wolf agreed that I could have sex with Gawan if that’s what I wanted. But how far could I get by rationally deliberating about something as emotional as sex? What would my gut say in the moment? Or after?

At a walking pace, I asked myself whether having sex with Gawan was what I authentically wanted or what I thought I should want, since I’ve had difficulty with “want” sex versus “want to want” sex before, but one incident gave me some insight. This is sort of a polyamorous arrangement, we hadn’t had sex with each other, and we hadn’t asked each other for sexual exclusivity outside of pre-existing relationships, which for him would have amounted to celibacy. Some time ago he let me know about a BDSM scene that he had arranged with someone new and which would include sex. Rational me understood perfectly. Emotional me punched the wall. (Unfortunately, I know how to throw a punch. It took months before my hand stopped aching.) I rationally examined my reasons not to feel jealous, and then felt jealous anyway. Perhaps it was because he would be having a hot experience with another woman and I wanted it to be me.

What would I regret more, sex or not-sex? Sex would force me to confront long-standing issues about vulnerability, trust, monogamy, and commitment that I may or may not have managed to resolve sufficiently. Not-sex would mean I’d miss out on potentially fun experiences (maybe even adventures), and a deeper connection with someone I love. I decided that not-sex would be the bigger regret.

So, at a walking pace, I picked apart every issue until they lay in shreds at my feet. When these issues ceased to pop up every time I hit my stride, what did come to mind was this: I guess I’m ready for our second date.

the love of four men in one weekend

I exaggerate of course. It wasn’t really a weekend — it was about a 48-hour period starting on a Saturday afternoon. But during this time, four men told me they loved me.

Wolf made small gestures, such as making gourmet sandwiches (complete with little love notes) for my first flight. And then there was the grand gesture first made many months ago (and subsequently reaffirmed more than once) when he agreed to amend the terms of our relationship to allow for one specific exception to our monogamy, without which the trip likely wouldn’t have happened. When he dropped me off at the airport (sending me into the care of another man) and said he loved me, I knew in the marrow of my bones ­— as I have for years ­— that it was absolutely true.

The purpose of the trip was to spend time with Gawan. After serendipitously meeting online, I was surprised to find myself falling for a man I’d never met. I’ve termed that emotion “love” for over a year now. When he picked me up at the airport on the far side of the world and said he loved me, I felt completely secure in his love, though it still feels fresh. This was only our second time meeting – our “second date”, if you will.

I took the opportunity to visit two friends en route, one of whom (Lucas) is the only ex who I still consider to be a real friend. We don’t keep in touch as much as we should (he’s a self-described recluse and workaholic, and I haven’t been reaching out) but we’ve vowed to do better. I’ve been thinking about him more since I started blogging because he was the person who first told me about BDSM. During our brief visit, I raised the topic and was pleased to find that he’s still interested in it. Why pleased? It means that I still know him, it’s an interest we broadly share, and I now have a trusted friend I can talk to about it. When he dropped me off at airport #2 and said he loved me (there’s something about airports, or at least infrequent goodbyes and hellos), it was no shock — I’m one of his oldest friends — but the word “love” is new. This is the love of a deep friendship built on the pillars of years.

The fourth man is Mr. Pleasant Surprises, whom I’ve known a little longer than I’ve known Wolf but we’ve been in touch only very sporadically over the years. It wasn’t until we visited in May that I got any hint of how much he cared for me — the delighted smiles, the warm hugs, the arm flung around my neck as we walked together. I invited myself to crash at his place. This time he shared things with me that I hadn’t known and I came to understand that I’m one of the few people he trusts, and that he has an even bigger love and touch deficit than I do. He’s a self-described loner, so I was even more surprised that he invited me in emotionally. We talked for a few hours, and at one point we just stood and held each other. We looked into each other’s eyes, seeing fondness, acceptance and caring, both of us drinking it up, and he kissed me. And told me that he loved me.

In reference to Mr. PS, Gawan playfully decreed “no more boyfriends”, not that that’s where I see this heading. But PS has made it abundantly clear that he values this relationship; I’ve never had a lot of friends myself and I can’t recall any friend ever expressing their appreciation for me so intensely. I want people in my life who want me in their lives. I’ve heard of that notion, of course, but hadn’t personally experienced it until recently. It seems I still have things to learn about healthy relationships.

With four declarations of love in the space of a weekend (give or take), I feel loved. Even lovable, which is… unfamiliar.

This is right. This is good. I was in need of more love in my life and somehow I’ve stumbled upon quite a lot of it.


I’m super excited! In a few days, I’m going on a big trip to a country I’ve never visited before. By myself. I never travel alone. And I’m a little cagey about discussing it with friends and family, but it’s hard to travel to another continent without actually telling anyone. Who needs to know anything about it? And how do I explain it – to others, to myself?

So I try words on for size: some true, some potentially true, and some definitely not true.

“I’m going on a trip.”

“I’m going on a vacation overseas. No, Wolf isn’t coming.”

“Wolf is too busy with his thesis to do any travelling until it’s done.”

“It’s difficult for Wolf to travel these days, what with needing a blood test every two weeks.”

“He’s not interested in this destination. This trip is for me.”

“He can focus on the thesis and I get a break from it for a while.”

“I’m visiting a friend.”

“I have a girlfriend who’s living there.”

“I’m visiting a good friend.”

“I’ll be staying with my friend.”

“…my friend and his family.”

“I’m visiting my boyfriend.”

“…my lover.”

“…a dom.”

“…my dom.”

“…my Dom.”

“We met when I was studying overseas.”


“…through friends.”

“We met… around.”

“Oh yes, I’m taking advantage of a layover to visit some other friends on the way.”

“I planned this trip with a layover so en route I’m briefly visiting a friend, who recently declared that he loved me, and I’ve invited myself to crash at his house. Did I mention I once had a crush on him? And then I’m going to hang out with an ex-boyfriend.”

“Sightseeing? Well, I’m going to a couple of major places but otherwise just hanging out. I don’t really know where I’ll be — my friend is organizing everything. Yes, it’s very kind of him.”

“We’ve discussed the itinerary and my interests. There are a couple of things that we’re going to do because I want to, but otherwise I’m putting myself in his hands and just going along for the ride.”

“I’ve asked permission to do a couple of things, which he has told me that he’ll allow, but otherwise I expect to do as I’m told.”

“There will be local outings. There will be a flight. There will be leather cuffs. Not necessarily in that order.”

“I’m not sure where exactly we’re going, but it doesn’t really matter because the only scenery that’s guaranteed is interior. You know, hotel rooms.”

“I’m travelling thousands of miles for sex. Maybe. Definitely travelling, for maybe-sex. For Schrodinger’s sex.”

“I’m going on a sex vacation. The shows (every hour on the hour) include spankings, floggings, and fuckings, the climax is a climax and everyone screams. Kind of like a roller coaster, or a log ride. No, you don’t get a plastic cape if you sit in the splash zone.”

“Don’t expect me to post many photos to Facebook; the number of photos seems to be inversely proportional to the fun I’m having, or I take loads, get overwhelmed, and post none.”

“I don’t expect to post photos because I’ll mostly be hanging out with my friend.”

“…because we’ll probably be doing things where you wouldn’t post the photos to Facebook.”

“I might post photos, not on Facebook, but on my anonymous sex blog that you don’t know about, and they won’t be of scenery but of my reddened ass, inter alia. A connoisseur will be able to discern whether the marks are from a bare-hand spanking, a paddle, a flogger, a cane, a crop or a single-tail whip.”

“My husband is dropping me off at the airport. During my layover, I’m visiting a man who loves me and an ex-boyfriend. I’m going to get picked up on far side by my boyfriend… lover… Dom. Should be interesting.”

TMI Tuesday: sex, fetish & orgasm

TMI Tuesday blog

1. Have you ever orgasmed just by hearing sexy dirty talk? No. I’ve never had a hands-off orgasm except a few times in my sleep. Dirty talk can be good, but as a side dish not a main course.

2. Have you ever tried scissoring? No.

3. Have you ever practiced BDSM on yourself (bondage, nipple clamps, hot wax, etc.)? I’ve done nipple clamps on myself. My partner has never used them on me – he just pinches.

4. Have you ever licked or sucked on someone else’s feet or toes? Was it a turn-on for you or were you doing it to please them? No, and it doesn’t interest me. I’ve had my toes sucked and it doesn’t really do much for me either. That said, I don’t find feet to be an absolute turn-off the way some people seem to, and I think I have nice looking feet.

5. Would you say that you have a sexual fetish? What is it? No, and I don’t think I’m likely to develop one. Turned on by an object or non-sexualized body part? Not really my style.

6. What is the best way for you to orgasm? 1. Be very turned on. I’m still working out how to do that. Spanking has been pretty reliable so far, but the physical isn’t enough – I also need to be turned on emotionally. 2. G-spot stimulation with fingers. 3. Clitoral stimulation with my little vibe. 4. Engage my PC muscle.

I can get very close with the g-spot stimulation but so far I’ve never been able to come just from that. I can come just from clitoral stimulation but it’s usually not as satisfying. And if g-spot and clit are happening at the same time, the g-spot stuff sometimes seems to create “noise” so that I can’t really feel the vibe and thus can’t get off. I like to get well primed with g-spot and then use clitoral stimulation like a short fuse.

Bonus: Do you have a crush on a fellow blogger? Yes, you could say that.

How to play TMI Tuesday: Go to the TMI Tuesday blog and copy the questions. Paste them to your blog and answer them there (with a link to TMI Tuesday Blog). Then go back to the TMI Tuesday blog post and provide a link to your post in the comments.

F4TF: mono-poly

This week’s question:

Monogamy – do you think it is our natural inclination?
Are you in a monogamous relationship or do you you live a polyamorous life?
If you are monogamous, is it by choice? Do you find it easy or is it a struggle?

When I see the word “natural” I tend to go into sceptic mode – though that would suggest I occasionally leave sceptic mode, and I’m not sure that’s accurate. “Natural” is often used as a shorthand appeal to “natural law”, which is a set of moral principles that can theoretically be arrived at objectively. Beware! And it tends to be tied up with a confusion between is and ought, which in this case could take the form of “people in most cultures are monogamous, therefore all people ought to be monogamous.”

I don’t know if it’s actually true that most cultures subscribe to monogamy, and there are problems with definition, such as: does monogamy mean only one partner in a lifetime, or does serial monogamy (including marriage ending in divorce) count as a type of monogamy? and, if a significant proportion of people in a monogamous culture cheat on their spouses, is the culture really “monogamous”?

Humans are complex creatures. There’s a tremendous amount of individual variety, and the family and culture you grow up in have a massive impact too. We don’t have a great deal of instinctive behavior because we are intelligent and learn virtually everything we need to know in order to survive.

I’ve mentioned before that I considered myself strictly monogamous (in the serial monogamy sense of the word) until recently. I much prefer having few close friendships rather than a bunch of acquaintances, and I’d rather get to know someone one-to-one rather than while hanging out in a group. I focus. I’ve never had any difficulty with monogamy, was never tempted to cheat. When Wolf and I started seeing each other, we spent all our free time together for the first, oh, ten years or more. The longest we’d ever been apart was about a week. And then when he started studying in the UK, we emailed and Skyped daily.

But I also felt rather isolated and it turns out that I need more human connection in general. When I met Gawan online, I had no idea where things were going to go, I just let them unfold as they would, and it didn’t take long before I developed an attachment and the relationship became romantic (though not in a familiar form, due to the distance and other circumstances). I wasn’t expecting it nor was I looking for it, and I ended up having some emotional work to do, but I was interested to find that this relationship hasn’t resulted in any diminishment of my feelings for Wolf at all. (If it had, I would have pulled the plug on the new relationship.) I’ve since realized that I suffer from something of a love and affection deficit, and so now having the love of two people feels really nurturing to me. So I suppose I’m somewhat polyamorous now. (It’s complicated by the fact that the relationship with Gawan is long distance, so the practicalities involve email, Skype, and occasional big trips rather than setting up a date night etc.)

I don’t really identify as “polyamorous”, and I’m not sure it’s the most accurate term but it’ll do for now. Whatever this is, it’s a kind of ethical non-monogamy. Are monogamy and polyamory simply functional descriptions of how you arrange the relationship(s) that you have? Or are they entrenched orientations – like being heterosexual, homosexual or bisexual – such that you can identify as one or another even when you’re single? I certainly feel more mono than poly, but how much of that is my authentic identity and how much is culture and habit?

Romantic attachment parallels parent-child attachment, and most children have an attachment to two parents. I won’t say that romantic attachment to two partners is therefore “natural” or some kind of should, but maybe it’s not entirely unnatural. We are a social species and we seek connection.

I’m not looking for any new relationships. And if I found myself in only one romantic relationship again, I wouldn’t go looking for someone to fill the vacancy. But I probably won’t look at “friendship” and “romantic relationship” as rigidly defined, mutually exclusive categories anymore either.

a tale of three photographers

I was supposed to do a nude photo shoot last week.

There was more to it than just wanting someone to take photos of me. Some months ago I was approached by a different photographer about doing a nude shoot. I liked the idea a lot (and still do), but worried about whether I’d be up to it. That photographer lives overseas, and while I have tentative plans to be in his neck of the woods later this year, it would be impossible to meet more than a day or two in advance to decide whether I felt I could do this project with him. With the distances involved, I feared that I would pressure myself into going through with it even if I wasn’t entirely at ease, and I didn’t want to put either of us in that position.

And why should I be nervous about a nude shoot when I have a bunch of nude photos on the internet already?

Once upon a time, I connected with yet another photographer, who was trying to build up a portfolio and was offering glamour and nude shoots. I inquired about glamour but was too slow off the mark, though he was still looking for people for nudes…

I don’t know why I pushed on with it. I was torn: I was vaguely interested but very uncomfortable. I would hint daintily at nudity but not commit to it (a shadow on a piece of fabric, a jacket worn without a shirt or bra under it). I felt awkward and almost defensive the whole time and then I hated all the images that came back. And from that I learned caution.

If I agree to do a shoot with Overseas Photographer, I expect some nerves but I don’t want to be haunted by a feeling of wrongness the whole time. How could I get some assurance that it wouldn’t suddenly seem like a bad idea as soon as I got to his studio?

Prior to this discussion with OP, I’d been approached on FetLife by someone who was also a photographer. He was local-ish, and had liked my profile image. That conversation didn’t really go anywhere, in part because I was just feeling my way around the site and trying to dissuade the people drawn out of the woodwork by the smell of fresh meat. Later I started thinking that I could try working with FetLife Photographer as a trial run before OP. FP seemed OK so I got in touch again and initiated a discussion.

We don’t live in the  same city, but FP sometimes comes to my city to shoot and didn’t mind making a trip. I mentioned wanting to meet in advance, which he thought would be unlikely to happen due to the distance and travel times involved. Logistics are definitely an issue, but considering I still wasn’t sure whether I’d be able to follow through — and a major purpose of this project was to help me assess that — I considered an advance meeting to be essential and gently pushed the point. We had been back and forth daily, so when I didn’t hear from him for two weeks (after noting that he had been on the site many times since our last exchange), I took it as a tacit dismissal of my concerns and a conclusion that this was an incompatibility.

But then a couple of days after I’d given up on him, FP turned up again and apologized, explaining that he’d somehow missed responding. We agreed that if either of us was in the other’s city, we’d try to make plans to meet. And not too long after, an opportunity arose.

We met at a coffee shop, and Wolf came along for the first short while, mostly so Wolf could meet him and form his own opinions. (I’d already sent Gawan the link to FP’s FetLife page for an opinion based on his profile info and portfolio.) Wolf left after about 10 minutes, leaving the two of us to chat.

So there I was, in a coffee shop showing a virtual stranger nude photos of myself, and I found that my biggest concern was ensuring the images weren’t in the sight lines of the other customers. I felt strangely comfortable. Strangely? I was surprised, but maybe the comfort was a certainty after all the nude photos I’ve posted online.

Soon after, FP let me know that he had a few days that could work for a shoot (the first being a mere three days hence) but understood if it was too rushed. I picked the last day of the three he offered, and we started making our plans.

The one thing we hadn’t managed to agree on was the release form. We had discussed his approach to nude photography (what gets posted where, whether the model’s face is shown, etc.) when we met and — after I reviewed the release form — also in the lead up to the appointed day. His verbal explanation sounded good, but lots of details that I thought were important were omitted from the form. The evening before the shoot, I sent him my specific thoughts on revising the form. He didn’t get my notes until the morning and wasn’t prepared to discuss it at that point. He called off the shoot. I haven’t heard from him since.

Will the shoot with FP go ahead? It’s not impossible, but we’ll need to negotiate and agree to a release form before scheduling anything. My impression, however, is that he’s not interested in working with me any more.

It’s not a total loss. I now know to discuss and negotiate the release form in advance. I’ve learned that I don’t necessarily need the anonymity and distance of the internet to be able to feel at ease sharing images of my nude body. I was disappointed by the cancellation rather than relieved. I now feel more comfortable with the idea of doing a shoot with OP, and establishing my comfort level was the point of this exercise.

Now I just need to get on a plane, I suppose. But I have a bigger trip in the meantime: I’m going to visit Gawan in about a month and a half.

from “hard limit” to “want”

“I want to fuck your mouth,” he says. I squirm with desire. I can’t help it.

It’s amazing how completely I absorbed the idea that a blowjob was a degrading act without ever having heard anyone say so and before I even knew what a blowjob was.

I lie on my back, my head on a pillow. He straddles my chest and could easily trap my arms at my sides with his thighs.

I allowed Bad Boy (aka the Narcissist) to guilt-trip me into doing something I really didn’t want to do. Excluding the major issue of the manipulation, it wasn’t objectively a terrible experience. But it served to steel my resolve never to do it again.

“Arms above your head.” He pins my wrists in place.

Blowjobs became a hard limit before I knew what a hard limit was, but I adhered to my rule strictly. Given the relationship chaos that followed Bad Boy, that rule functioned to actively protect me. I had no other such damaging experiences, could not be manipulated into it, could not be forced. Regarding this one act at least, I was safe.

I open my mouth so he can rub the head of his cock, slick with pre-come, on my tongue. I take him into my mouth and suck firmly. He hums with pleasure.

The hard limit became an unthinking reflex. But since I realized that I don’t need to protect myself from Wolf, old habits like this now come up for review. Aside from those negative attitudes that I inherited early, I’m practically tabula rasa, which is a good thing. I surprised myself when I discovered that I enjoyed fantasizing about blowjobs.

I keep my head still. He thrusts in and out. Sometimes he murmurs praise, sometimes he groans. The groans are praise too.

Our current favorite position happens to be one in which I can barely move and he has control over depth and pace, because it’s the most comfortable for my perennially tense neck. I don’t associate it with real coercion — it’s all play.

He grasps a handful of my hair to communicate control. Then he uses that grip to move me on his cock like he’s using my mouth to masturbate.

He has never really gotten anywhere near coming in my mouth because I’ve only just promoted it from “hard limit” to “willing”. This is just as new for him as it is for me and, given my past difficulties, he worries about going too far too fast.

His thighs start to shudder. He’s close, so close. I’d asked him not to pull out until he starts to come but he won’t yet let himself go this way, so he pulls out and starts to stroke quickly. My mouth is open; he starts to squirt, but on my neck. I lift my head a little to put my tongue right on his cock, demanding a taste.

He has nothing but praise for the way I suck his cock, and that’s not just politeness speaking: there’s no feigning that delight. But it’s easy to please him because he always lets me know when it feels good. And I can take pride in a blowjob well done.