Deep in the Jungles of Recon: Life Among The Kinky Nerdy Monkey Boys

It’s nice when life offers up a brand new experience. There is such a plethora of sexual kinks out there and I have been exposed to or become aware of so much, I find it refreshing that, on occasion, even I can stumble onto some undiscovered, fresh terrain.  Last Saturday afternoon was just such an instance.  Part of me felt like Jane Goodall, observing and interacting with an exotic species, while the other part felt incredibly honored and lauded. 

It all began over a year ago.  I happened onto a reference to a site I had never heard of before: Recon; an internet site dedicated to gay kink in the form of bondage, leather, and extreme activities (sounding, fisting, etc.).  Of course, I joined immediately (it’s free) and spent considerable time checking out the profiles of local kinksters while fielding inquiries from those overseas.  On occasion I would strike a chord with one of the locals.  I actually met one person – my movie theatre buddy whom I fooled around with as detailed in a previous post (Ass Play At the Movies: I’m Ready For My Close-Up, 1/20/12), but my fascination with the site proved temporary and, soon,  I stopped visiting altogether. 

Six months went by without me paying any attention to it.

Well, Recon is a pretty savvy site.  They know how to get you to come back.  I got an offer for a 90-day free trial which would allow me complete, unlimited access to the site.  I ignored it for the first 30 days, but, after I had taken some new pics in the locker room at my gym and was updating my other profiles, I decided to also post them on Recon as well.

I tell you, the best way I know to create some renewed interest in an on-line profile?  Post some new pics.  That, along with my unlimited access, allowed me to touch base again with many local kinksters.  One happened to be this 26-year old photographer from a city close to Duluth, MN.  We’d talked quite some time ago, but due to the distance and logistics involved, it never went anywhere.  This time he told me that he would be staying in town at a friend’s place that very weekend and would like to finally meet me.  A time for him to send me the address of where he would be staying was arranged and I waited and planned for the day. Keep in mind that I had yet laid eyes on an actual picture of him; his profile is filled with the photos of others whom he has done sessions with.  In these photos I noticed he had a predilection for duct-taped mouths, mouth gags and hog-tying his willing victims with white nylon rope. I was intrigued.  And, I must confess, a little scared.

That morning, I got up, shaved all my privates, did all my usual maintenance work; I wanted to look as good as I could.  I did not work out, rather, I went shopping.  The timing couldn’t have been better, for just as I’d found and purchased two pairs of black Levis, I got a text from the little kinkster.  He was in town and sent me an address in NE Minneapolis where I was to meet him.  Turned out the place was within the same complex as the movie theatre that I had frequented last winter with my other Recon bud.  I parked, and after waiting in the lobby of this rather high-end building with the security guard at the main desk – who was kind enough to buzz me in – asking repeatedly who I was there to see (I had no idea), I was then told, via text, to exit the lobby and come up the fire escape.  I got outside and was then greeted by two men – one, a good-looking, shorter man about my age with really nice forearms and a tall, cute, blonde, broad-shouldered, young twink-type.  They introduced themselves and guided me upstairs.  Neither of them was the man I was there to see. 

No, he turned out to be on the other side of a rather heavy fire door at the top of the steps.  First impression – he looked like Justin Timberlake (so, for the purposes of this post, I’ll refer to him as Justin) during his scruffy phase.  Turns out he’s cute,   sweet, and a bit nervous and nerdy.  Oddly, I am not nervous at all, which is surprising, considering that I hadn’t expected there to be other people there and was wondering just what I had gotten myself into.  The condo appeared bright and modern, so I’m not creeped-out in the least. I’m escorted into a studio and immediately I get a sense that I know this place… and I do – I’ve seen it in photographs in the profile of another Recon member – a far kinkier member.  His photos are a bit more extreme and sexual than Justin’s.  This worries me for a bit, but I remain cool and professional, as I remain throughout the entire four hours. 

We get to work right away.  He wants me in my street clothes.  He hog ties me with white nylon rope and starts to take pics, as the other two watch.  Eventually he adds a black leather-banded ball gag – a favorite of his.  Initially, he struggles with the camera a bit, but he seems pleased with me.  We work five more scenes; playing in the shower, the bathtub, on a leather couch, and in the studio.  The other two photographers hang around the entire time, observing, commenting, and making suggestions.  After the first scene, I comment that I had assumed I’d be wearing a lot less clothing, and the more experienced photographer chimes in agreement.  I end up wearing much less in the next few sets; black jockeys, white briefs, black Calvin Klein bikinis – but never nude.  Turns out Justin really likes my body, but that nudity is just not his thing.  Duct tape, on the other hand…

Duct tape, when ripped from the mouth, stings.  Big surprise, right? 

The really big surprise?  No sex.  None.  Yes, he touches me on occasion.  He smacks me on the ass, squeezes a nipple, grabs my crotch, but it’s all rather playful – more horseplay than sexual in nature.  And had I bothered to read his profile again completely, I would have remembered this.  On one occasion, he did something to me as I was getting out of the bathtub.  It hurt or surprised me, so I reached back (my hands tied), grabbed his crotch, and squeezed hard.  He squeaked and quickly got the message that whatever it is he had just done was not okay with me.  In the end, the closest we come to sexual contact is when, with me handcuffed,  my hands behind my back and the handcuffs tied to my ankles, he sets me on my knees and puts an ice cube in my underwear, under my balls.  I’m wearing a blindfold and a ball gag at the time, so I found it, in my sensory-deprived state, rather erotic.  He fondled my junk quite a bit during this test (that’s what he called it) and I get aroused (not that it leads to anything).  The biggest reaction I got out of him was that he seemed amazed that the ice cube melted as quickly as it did.  Still, it felt good and I told him as much.

The same could be said about the whole experience.  It felt good.  I got some great compliments.  My ego left definitely well-fed.  Throughout the shoot, Justin showed me the pics after each session and told me he’s happy with what he’s getting.  He kept checking in with me to make sure I’m okay, and, other than a few times when I needed to flip over wearing handcuffs or when the handcuffs cut into my wrists, I was comfortable the whole time.  I leave feeling like Justin got what he wanted and feeling pretty good about myself, as well.  Yes, I’m a little long in the tooth to be doing a photo shoot, but, hey, if the photographer is happy, then I’m happy. 

Justin has promised to send me some of the pics, once they’re edited.  He’s also assured me that they only place they will appear is on the Recon site.  Man, I hope they don’t suck.  I am not exactly photogenic and cringe whenever I see a photo of me that I, myself, have not taken, edited and/or approved.  But you know what?  I have to let that control go in this case; those images belong to him. 

It was an interesting experience – and not what I expected.  I really thought there would be a lot more sex (implied or actual)  – especially with two other dudes around.  But, apparently, for some, bondage is not about sex – it is a kind of art.  In a way, I felt like I had spent the day observing kinky monkey boys/men working out their nerdy obsessions.  There was something rather ‘Big Bang Theory’ about the whole scene, which I think is why I felt so at ease.   I really was able to let my guard down with these total strangers while one of them trussed me up like Bettie Page.  Yes, there was conversation that didn’t have anything to do with the actual photography, but not much.  After the first half hour had passed, I really felt as if I was there to do a job, and nothing more.

I left on a very cordial note.  As I walked back to my car I had no regrets.  Yes, I wished I had gotten my penis photographed, but hey, that’s not his thing.  And as I kept reminding the other two photographers when they would make suggestions – the whole thing was his thing – he was calling the shots, literally.  Would I do it again?  Probably.  I would really like to work with the more extreme dude – he’s into electro-stim, bondage, head masks, and milking scenes (though, I suspect, he is only into young things).   On the other hand, what Justin liked was good, clean fun – so I’m happy to spend more time doing the same, if he’d like. 

I guess the proof will be in the pudding – or, in this case, the actual photos.  I hope they are good enough for him to post and that I haven’t wasted his time.  It would be really cool if they did get posted and somebody actually got off on them.  Eh, we’ll see.

It was great to discover something unexpected.  Bottom line – I found the whole experience to be very refreshing.  Every time I experience something new for the first time, it’s like a sexual reboot; I get a renewed sense of my own power and find that my sexual focus, having been altered, becomes more keen and energetic than before. 

This weekend I plan on paying a visit to a dungeon.  I have some idea of what to expect, as I have had one previous experience in someone’s dungeon, but also know that I need to get the dungeon master my ‘no-fly’ list before submitting to anything.  It should be interesting.  And who knows… maybe my booty will get…

…a leather reboot!