Her flesh is pale. Her body, lithe. Muscular. Fit.

“I want you to tell me about your favorite part of my body (so far).”

I responded by cropping and zooming her thighs and cunt in a pair of black jeans.

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I can’t accept a photo. I want you to -tell- me, not show.”

She has lived much of her life deep in the demimonde of kink. Her experience has been… extreme. Not that mine hasn’t been, not that it isn’t. But the extreme aspects of my experience mostly have been between my ears. She, and others, have painted hundreds of graphic portraits of pain and pleasure on her body. I have the sense that the space between her ears receives only the dimmest of signals, of stimulation, even as her body has been, is, flayed, flogged. As she has flayed and flogged her partners in “play.” That this attenuated psychic and emotional response necessitates the physical extremes of her sexual expression.

“So far,” I wrote, “I’m a big fan of all your parts. I haven’t seen your face (except on Fet), so I have nothing to say about it. Though I would very much enjoy more of it. 

I like your chest. Not just your tits, which seem lovely, but your clavicle, your cleavage. Which looks super excellent in those photos you sent.

I feel your ass, too, is spectacular. And I’ll need much much more of it to hone my appreciation of it.

I was taken with how strong your arms are in your photos.


Your thighs and the zone between them? That’s what, so far, has made me hungriest. Partly, this is constitutional. I’m a big fan of inner thighs. But.

I like the balance between slender and strong, lean and meaty, that I see there. And there’s something about how many nudes of you I’ve seen, how much of your flesh I’ve seen, that makes me want to have you just feed me your thighs and cunt, clothed, ad infinitum.”

I have the sense my requests feed something in her. She doesn’t submit in the ways to which I’m accustomed. She won’t simply give herself over to me. She negotiates. Barters. Haggles.

I scare her. More than a little. She scares me, as well. As we get to know one another, slowly (in my case), quickly (in hers), we play with one another’s fear, with the ways each of us intimidates the other.

I will see (did see) her ass in booty shorts next.

Her extensive collection of cat suits, body suits, lingerie, awaits me.

What awaits her?

Time will tell.

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