A stranger worked out my street from the background of one photograph
- Looking for
- a dominant who understands why I give ground slowly
- Experience
- Five years, three short dynamics, one that ended badly.
- Around
- the Westside, Los Angeles
A man I had exchanged nine messages with told me which street I lived on. He was not threatening about it. He thought he was being clever, and he had worked it out from a hillside in the background of a photograph I had put up eighteen months earlier without a thought. I took every image down that afternoon and I have not put one back.
Thirty five, the Westside, submissive, five years in. Three short dynamics, one of which ended in a way I am not going to describe in an advertisement.
What I do now is slow and it is not negotiable. Nothing with a recognisable view in it. Nothing that says where I work. A short call before we meet, and a public place in daylight for the first two. I am not asking you to prove anything I am not proving back, and I will go first if that helps.
I am warm once the checks are done. Genuinely. The caution is administrative rather than emotional and it stops the moment I trust somebody.
What I want is an ongoing dynamic with clear standing rules, not a series of evenings. What I do not want is anybody who treats my carefulness as a puzzle, anybody who has an answer to it, or anybody who tells me the person I described was probably harmless. I know he probably was. That is not the point and it never was.