I was talking to a local model recently who told me about a photographer friend of hers who just recently died from an aneurysm. I didn’t know the guy well but had seen him at a studio maybe two months ago. He wasn’t all that old, I would guess 50s or early 60s. It doesn’t last forever.

I just had a birthday myself, just turned 44. I’ve always been kind of funny in that I sort of like getting older. I remember when I turned 40 just feeling a big relief, as if all those bad years were behind me now. When I was younger, in my 20s and 30s, I was just depressed so much of the time that life usually seemed not really worth the trouble. Like I’ve said before, I’m way happier now than I’ve ever been. It’s not all sunbeams and unicorns, especially in this neighborhood where I live, but it’s a heck of a lot better than it used to be.

I figure that once I get too old to look decent in bondage pictures, I’ll just shoot pictures of other younger t-girls, and enjoy bondage just playing privately or at parties. I might even enjoy that arrangement more than what I do now, because sometimes getting ready for a shoot and worrying about how I look and whether I’m sweating and all can sometimes kill some of the fun. When I’m shooting other girls there’s less of that pressure and I can focus more on the bondage and the lighting and so on. And sometimes when I can tell that a girl’s really getting into being tied up, it can be a lot of fun. That’s when I want to surprise them by putting duct tape over their eyes or locking them in a small trunk (okay, I don’t own a small trunk but it would be neat if I did.) That moment of surprise when you’re tied up and something unexpected happens that makes you realize that, wait, you Really Are Helpless can be such a great moment.

That charge – Probably the best moment of that kind I’ve had, and I wasn’t even tied up at the time, was this one evening when I was sixteen and I was coming home late from working at a Chinese restaurant where I worked as a busboy (I wanted to be the waitress, but alas). I know I’ve written about his before, but it was raining hard outside and this guy stopped and offered me a ride home. For some reason I said yes, and then once I was in his car I got this nervous feeling. As we got closer to the nearby 7-11 store, I said, “You can just let me out here,” but he just let out this strange little laugh and kept driving. I remember I had this moment of adrenaline wash over me, that sick-in-the-stomach feeling, where your insides sort of turn over. I sat there thinking, “Uh, what’s going on?” And then after a moment he drove a little farther, pulled over, and I got out and thanked him for the lift.

I wasn’t sure afterward if he had been trying to scare me, or hadn’t heard what I said, or what exactly had just happened, but in my imagination I had this fantasy of being taken back to his home against my will, being forced to dress up like a girl, and being bound and gagged and locked away in his basement to become his “special” girlfriend. At that moment, when he laughed, it was like the possibility of this fantasy actually becoming real was right there in front of me. Of course, it wasn’t, and it would be nearly impossible to make that fantasy come true and to still maintain that “good” charge of excitement and fear – the reality would quickly turn into a nightmare, and very possibly end up being fatal, and whereas role-playing can be fun, you still always know that it’s just role-playing. It would be a lot easier I sometimes think to just be turned on by tits and vaginas.

Wow, this turned out to be way longer than I intended. Sleepy time.