As a long time photographer with an interest in Fetish and Bondage, I have incorporated my photo skills with enjoyment of this activity. I think this is something anyone with a camera can do. Of course your subject must be willing to be photographed and you must agree ahead of time where and how the photos will be used. I think it would be very easy to get in trouble with this if you posted someone’s photo without their approval especially on a public site where they can be easily recognized.I found that I can take a lot of photos without showing the person’s face, thus concealing their identity.
Although the concept of intercourse interested me, it also scared me a little. I knew I wasn’t ready for it, but I also knew I was dying to be close to boys so I could kiss them and be held by them. After the affair with Walter, there was a drought. I had crushes on older boys who barely noticed me, boys my own age were largely pigs, and puberty had now brought me to the teetering edge of full-blown adolescence, where each day was a new and deeper pit of hellish self-consciousness, self-loathing and almost untenable horniness.
There will be time to go back and talk about early childhood, but I’ll start with my first conscious awareness of sex between partners.
I was walking with my friend Carol outside my old Brooklyn elementary school, P.S. 169, when she asked me if I knew how babies were made. I had just devoured a great big greasy slice of pizza and her question made me queasy. I was 11 years old and puberty was making a loud and early entrance in my life. Yet though I was noticing boys more, and was filled with romantic fantasies based on the novels and movies I’d read, the mechanics of baby-making eluded me. I was content to leave it that way. Even then, I knew I didn’t want children. Still, once she raised the subject, curiosity got the better of me. “How?”