Gallery

pupblaise:

Feeling right at home in Seattle thanks to @seabondagesadist

My whole life, I’d been drifting. One apartment to another, one motel to another. Then, one foster home to another. Constantly rotating. Never settling. I barely graduated. Tried college for a bit, but got antsy. I traveled around doing various labor jogs in the gas industry. During the day, I’d work brutal 12 hour shifts and at night, I’d go online and talk to this guy Blake in Washington State. We had a lot in common – same tastes in TV shows, same kinks, same preferences toward men. He liked them a bit furry and well, I happened to be a pretty textbook otter. Soon we moved the conversations to phone calls and text messages, although that soon turned into sexting. No matter where I went, Blake was just one click or call away. I became a little addicted to him. Blake was my anchor.

When yet another job dried up, this one in Alaska, Blake said: “Come live with me.” I was astonished. It had been two years, but we had never met. I expressed some concern and he said, “Well come stay with me until your next job”. I had no where else to go, so I did what I always did and just drifted. This time, south. I hitched in Canada and guess where he was going? Seattle. I felt that I was being pulled there, so I went.

I found myself so excited to meet Blake for the first time. It was a feeling I wasn’t using to experiencing. I was nervous, jittery. Our first conversation was awkward. I couldn’t stop stuttering, nor could I stop staring. The face I’d seen in so many pictures had come to life in front of me. He was far more handsome than any Skype chat conveyed. First date jitters all over again. Blake made me dinner. We both played polite, but by the next night we were both naked in his bed. It was the most comfortable bed I could ever remember sleeping in…well, ever.

After a week of getting to know each-other and falling in love all over again, Blake offered to tie me up. Of course, I had wanted that. I wanted it since Day 1, when I stumbled upon all his beautiful bondage work on his Tumblr. The first time he tried, I came immediately and ruined the session. The second time around, we fooled around for a bit and he edged me for half an hour until I came. That was better. When Blake took out the rope, I was pleasantly still horny but much more calm. 

On went the ropes. On went the mask and the gag. Away went the sounds, the distractions, movement. As I laid there, immobile and restricted, I realized this was the first time I had ever been physically prevented from going anywhere. I was stuck. It felt so secure, so comfortable, just to be some place and not having anywhere to go. I didn’t want to go anywhere either. For the first time, I wanted to stay. I felt a little emotional but forced myself not to react and spoil the session.
Instead, I closed my eyes and drifted into headspace. Blake told me later that I dozed off for a bit and he kept checking my pulse, scared that I was going to die. I loved hearing that, knowing he was attentive and focused on keeping me safe. I don’t remember him checking my pulse at all. I was so deep in a meditative trance that when he untied me out of concern for my circulation – and that it was 2 in the morning – I momentarily could not remember what day it was. I just wanted to cuddle.

I learned something important that night. I had been bucking advice my whole life to just settle down somewhere, but what I had been seeking the entire time was for someone to ask me to stay. I wanted someone to want me to stay. I wanted someone to keep me as theirs. The next day I decided to tell Blake if I ever decided to leave, he was to tie me up again until I changed my mind. But he beat me to it. Over breakfast, Blake asked me if I would stay for good. He wanted me to get a permanent job in Seattle and live with him and share his bed. Poor guy, he was so alarmed when I began to cry.

____________________________________________________
Text is fictional. This is @pupblaise, all tied up. Source is above.

Gallery

I see Howard across the shopping center and totally just freeze. It’s him. It’s absolutely him. I forget that he can see me staring and that I’m not gazing at him through a screen or one way glass. He doesn’t look like his online profile at all – he looks twice as tall and three times more handsome. The angle of his photos made his face look shorter and rounder, and the lights from the club made him look much lighter. His skin is the exact color of cinnamon, and I don’t doubt it’s warm and smooth as the foam on a chocolate latte. He is more handsome than I ever could have hoped.

But he’s wearing a cardigan and I’m just not sure if I’m ready for boyfriends that wear sweaters…and what are those shoes called? Chukkas? Where at the basketball shorts and wifebeater shirts and sneakers? Are those jeans or slacks? God, what do I do – I can’t tear my eyes away and he’s noticing me, his face furrowing in confusion. Am I ready for a man like this? He’s gotta be intelligent as hell and totally down to Earth and practical, hell I can just tell he’s gonna be a great dad one day… and I mean, why would he want to date me?

I shouldn’t have worn this shirt. I should have gone with the button up. Should I have played up my 1/16th Cherokee heritage? Maybe he doesn’t date white boys. God he looks amazing in that cardigan. This guy isn’t gonna try to fake his way through a date just to touch my dick, he’s gonna want to cuddle up next to me and have a glass of whine…. am I ready for that? Am I really, really ready because this guy could be the father of my kids one day and oh god he’s coming over here.

When he looked at his phone earlier, he was totally checking out my profile picture. I can’t be what he thought I’d be. He has to be disappointed already. I’m just not that put together, and I should have worn the button up shirt, goddammit. What color do I look bad in again? Purple or yellow? My socks are cream – is cream yellow? Oh god, brain please shut up he’s coming over here. People are looking at him, noticing him, his style is just so casual and organic, how does he make it so effortless?

Why does that guy not have every gay college lit major trailing after him for his phone number? Why does he have to turn to online dating? And why did he pick –

“Pardon… are you Micah?” he asks, adorably nervous. Part of him is surely wondering if I’m just stoned out of my mind, standing here gawking like this.
I stammer and run my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, I’m Micah Carter. You must be Howard.” I offer a hand, he shakes it; his grip is perfect. I faintly smell sandalwood.
“Yes, I am. Is everything alright? You have this frightened look on your face. Is there something growing out of my head?”
My face darkens a deep red. “No it’s just – just… well, I don’t know if I can explain it. I’ve met a lot of guys online and no one else gave me this feeling…ugh, this is so embarrassing. I’ll tell you one day, it’d just seem silly now. Um. You look really handsome and well put-together. Love the cardigan.”
The confused look on his face melts into a relaxed smile and he chuckles. “I’m not really sure what you mean by that first part, but thank you, that’s sweet of you to say. I went through eight other sweaters to pick it out.”
“I’ve never dated a guy who owns eight sweaters before…”
“I’ve never had a date with a guy I met online before.” Howard offers, looking shy. “And uh, I think it’s kinda hot you’re wearing just a plain white tee-shirt and raw denim. It’s such a classic look, you just don’t see it anymore.”
I’m momentarily speechless. “Howard, you are a sweetheart for saying that, but I just don’t think I can hold a candle next to you.”
He tilts his head and I swear I see him blush.. “Why don’t we just go on our date and you let me decide, Micah?”
Relief floods through me. He’s taking control. I need this, like my lungs need air. “Yeah, sure, I can’t wait.” Howard gives me another little smile and begins to walk; and to my surprise, my feet become unstuck from the floor and follow after him.
_________________________________________________________
Text is fictional. Watermarked. This man’s name is Rashid, and this was taken at the Melbourne Central shopping plaza in Australia.