I went to the LURE last night. Saw bunches of folks I knew. It's weird how the place clears out. I got totallly caught up in watching porn. Usually, I'm no big fan of porn. A blow job is a blow job is a blow job, even if the giver and or receiver is all done up in cow hide. Ho humm. But last night, they were showing stuff from The Academy was pretty amazing. Specifically, it was Academy III, and involved a demented millionaire who abducted men in uniform and mounted them in display cases. Not everyone's cup of tea, I realize. But it sure was mine. My imagination recalled the trooper I had seen in MP Uniforms earlier in the day. Plucked from his hummdrum life, taken off the wheel of birth - boyhood - job - marriage - children - middle age - retirement - old age - death. Abducted, caged, and (twirling of mustache here) added to my collection. Buwah-hah-hah-hah-haaaah.

When I got home, I ordered the video. This will be the first porn I've ever actually purchased.

And, I came home alone. In other words, I struck out. My own fault. During prime time, I was oogling the video screen. There was one guy that gave me a *Schwing!*, but he asked if I liked to service boots, and I said I liked to have my boots serviced. It turned out that he was exclusively Top, and last night, so was I. We passed each other a few times over the course of the night, shooting each other pained looks each time. Mebbe I should have just said what-the-hell and gone down last night. But that road has lead me to disappointment too many times before. Me bottoming takes a lot of negotiation, getting to know the person, becoming trusting, and, ultimately, coming to feel that I want to submit to this man whom I respect and who will surprise me with where he can take me. In the alternative, I think it can be a sort of conspiracy of equals, two guys having fun. But way too many times, I'm sort of rolling my eyes, watching the clock, and wondering what the quickest route might be to getting him off so I can go get dressed and get the hell out of there.

Huh. A really interesting thought just occurred to me. When I Top, it's always satisfying, and always rewarding. But that's a relatively new development. I can remember when I was less experienced when I would tie up some hot boy, he'd be loving it, but I would be looking at my shoddy rope work and thinking, "How come I can truss up stuffed pork loin perfectly but this looks like a fifth grade art project?" I had no confidence, I was afraid to hurt the guy (!?!), and I felt as though I had been air-dropped on stage with a group of Chinese acrobats and was trying to jump in and perform, having not a clue as to what I was doing. At any moment, I could have been unmasked as an imposture. Now, giving a flogging for instance, I can just relax, lose myself in the scene, delight in the trip I'm taking the bottom on, and when the energy exchange happens--flowing between me and the bottom--I can just rest assured that he's having as good a time as I am. So what I'm saying is, maybe I have to learn how to bottom. To wit, come to an understanding of what my limits are (including making the difficult determination of what I want but am afraid to ask for and where I just will not go), learning how to trust my gut in negotiation, and then just get to the place where I take the Leap of Faith and just jump on that moving train and see where I end up. I wonder if it's true that even an incompetent Top can pull off a great scene with the cooperation of the bottom? If I can find the right head space, and stay in my body, breathe, relax, and make spin dross (floss?) into gold.

Over the course of the GMSMA's Novices Special Interest Group, I've been tied up; mummified; pinched with clothes pins and various other implements; subjected to having hot candle wax dripped on me; set on fire; electrocuted; burned on my cock, balls, and nipples with Icy Hot, Tiger Balm, and the like; among other things. And, as my stoner buddies would say, "It's all good."

After all, it's all about saying "Yes." Joy lies behind the door marked Yes.