"What's My Fetish?" FREE Chapter

Hey all! I am sharing a chapter of my upcoming memoir... this is the spiciest chapter... and I am a little nervous to put it out there (especially for free!) Feel free to leave comments or questions on this post, and I will respond to them during the FREE portion of the Live Stream at 10am this Friday! Don't be late! The free Live Stream ends at 10:30AM PST! I will post a zoom link just beforehand so you can just pop in :)

OK! Here's the chapter!!!

"What's my Fetish?"

I didn’t understand it at the time, but I was participating in a classical example of a narcissistically abusive relationship. I wanted to connect with Rick more, but he had a bit of a hard shell. He was an old dog that didn’t want to learn new tricks, and I was a playful rascal that thought I could melt his heart somehow. If only my personality was mysterious enough for him to be curious. If only my body was as hot as his girlfriend before me. If I could just impress him one time… with my creativity or my accomplishments… maybe he could love me for real instead of just superficially. I was a dedicated girlfriend to him, but he didn’t trust me because of my career. Cheating is not in my nature. But there are times where I was faced with temptation. This story is one of those times.

     Rick moved away from Seattle as soon as we had started hooking up. I didn’t want to “abandon him like all his past girlfriends did”, so I maintained our relationship by looping his new hometown in with my travels. He moved to Portland which was pretty convenient at first, then unfortunately to Florida. I would buy a three-way flight (and try to book shoots in Tampa as well… but the freelance modeling industry sucks there) and then to another major city where I could make my income for the month, then back home to Seattle. This went on for about 3 years, then he moved to San Diego.

     San Diego seemed pretty nice! It was only a 3 hour flight to Seattle, and if I drove I could book work in Portland, San Francisco, and LA on the way. I decided I could possibly live there, and in 2014 I made the decision to relocate from my home-state for the first time in my life: for a man who was not truly in love with me, but I was trying… Maybe my efforts in uprooting my life to be near him could convince him that I was dedicated and loyal.

     It took two trips up and down the coast in my little Chevy Aveo to bring my belongings down and relocate myself. Naturally, I decided to post Model Mayhem travel notices along the route and turn each road trip into a West Coast Tour. One of the bookings I was setting up in San Francisco was with a Clips4Sale fetish producer named Anderson.

     The pre-communication for this fetish video shoot was pretty standard. I shared my “comfort zone” limitations with Anderson, and he let me know that my limits were pretty restrictive compared to the rest of his content, but he liked my look so he wanted to incorporate me in his site. Apparently something about my look would potentially drive new traffic to his Clips4Sale.

     For the record, I was willing to do non-sexual fetishes and pose up to open leg: no insertions, no toys, no romantic interactions with men, etc. My limitations in working with photographers or videographers has been pretty consistent throughout my career. Anderson struggled to come up with enough non-sexual ideas to fill our three-hour booking, so I let him know what had sold well for me on my own clips store in the past: tickling, lift and carry, verbal humiliation, damsel in distress bondage, vore, giantess, booty worship, etc. He seemed to be willing to work with me on some of these ideas.

     I arrived on time, despite the gnarly city traffic. With my outfit bags and electronics suitcase piled over my little body, I dragged myself to his front door. It’s pretty common knowledge not to leave valuables in one’s vehicle in a dirty city like San Francisco. I was looking forward to getting this potentially limit-pushing fetish shoot out of the way so I could get paid and fight my way out of traffic to exit this busy town.

     Anderson was at the door as soon as I knocked. His pleasant smile welcomed me inside and invited me to set my things down in the living room so we could sit and discuss our shoot in person before moving forward. I was a bit surprised as it seemed this man did not fit the typical stereotype for a Clips4Sale fetish producer… I would expect either a nerdy hunched over guy with a weak jaw line and zits, or an older divorced and semi-retired man with lots of health problems. I hate to sound like a person who stereotypes, but in my experience, fetish producers do normally fit into one of these two boxes. Not Anderson.

     Anderson was built like The Rock. He was dressed in a pale, solid colored button-down shirt and some fancy slacks. Even his socks somehow looked stylish. A creeping of slightly faded tribal tattoos peeked out of his coral colored sleeve onto his wrist bones and slightly into the top of his left hand. The sun had graced him with a rich tan, possibly endowed by some part of his nationality. I couldn’t tell… anyway, I planned on keeping this completely professional. Part of my growth as a model was reminding myself that attraction didn’t need to undermine my professionalism. Even if I didn’t already have a boyfriend… I would certainly keep any client interaction completely platonic. That’s just who I am! Right?

     “Can I offer you something to drink?” Anderson asked.

     “Oh, I am actually sober…” I defended. I was only 2 years sober at this time, and I even still had the breathalyzer installed in my car, so I was always hypervigilant about defending my sobriety.

     “Oh, of course… what about water? Juice? Coffee?”

     “You have coffee?” I replied enthusiastically. Maybe I was falling in love, maybe I was just really craving that coffee…

     “Yes, I have an espresso machine. How do you like it?” I could have died instantly. Dear photographers who may be reading this: offer your models snacks and/ or coffee; it makes them feel special! Or at least that you view them as fellow human beings.

     As the moments passed and we hadn’t immediately begun shooting, I was starting to get anxious. Oftentimes, when photographers (or in this case, the fetish producer) chit-chat while you’re supposed to be on the clock, there may be a misunderstanding about the official start and end times of the shoot. My belief is that I arrive a few minutes ahead of the scheduled start time, so that we can start on time. If the client wants to take extra time to chat, it's taking time away from our allotted shoot time. I usually have another shoot after or some kind of plan (like avoiding rush hour traffic in California!) All this anxiety was alleviated with Anderson’s next words. “I know we are on the clock right now, but…” …phew! He agrees we are on the clock… “I wanted to talk about our shoot before getting right into it, I know you’ve been living on the road and you probably need to decompress. Plus I have some questions.”

     “Oh, I can start anytime… thanks though.” I was enthusiastic and eager to start shooting. “But what are your questions?” Anderson expressed concern that he was going to be “corrupting” me because in his mind, I had never done fetish modeling, and I was a “glamour model”. I reassured him that I had already shot the fetishes we discussed for this shoot, and reminded him that I indeed even had my own Clips4Sale store (I am pretty sure I even sent the link?)

     “But you don’t post fetish work?” Anderson pried.

     “No, I mean I have a brand for my modeling, and most of the fetish stuff I do is fun and cheesy and would probably confuse or alienate my fans.”

     “Oh, do you have a separate brand for your fetish work?” I thought for a second, I hadn’t tried marketing for more fetish work… so I didn’t really think too hard about building up a brand.

     “Well, my fake name on Clips4Sale is Piper…”

     “But you don’t really look like a Piper? And Piper sounds like a contrived name. You should really brand your fetish work with a strong alias!” Anderson was right. I had just been lackadaisical about any fetish work, some people would use “Pure Rebel” on their website when I modeled fetish content for them, sometimes I would just tell them to come up with a fake name… but having a more defined alias for this would be a good idea… since I had been getting a lot of fetish requests. “Let’s make one up now?” He suggested.

     I sipped my coffee and batted around ideas with Anderson to pick a name for me that wasn’t already taken on Clips4Sale, that seemed to fit me. He asked me my nationality and heritage, and we went down the rabbit hole in Google to get ideas. After another ten minutes, we came up with “Brooke Thomsen”… intentionally spelling Thomsen in a “Danish” way because I have some Danish heritage. He added that the “Thompson” spelling with a “P” was so common that having a unique spelling would help fans or fellow producers to find me online. This naming exercise was a new experience for me. I couldn’t tell if it felt empowering …or coddling… to have a man I just met analyze my personality and be my impromptu brand coach?

     I was still antsy to start shooting. But HE was the one who wanted to take all this time to get to know me! I was kinda okay with it, because he was cute…

     “Let’s get the paperwork out of the way,” Anderson suggested. I quickly learned that part of the reason he wanted to solidify a good fetish alias for me was that he had a 2257 form- for those of you reading: 2257 forms are required by law for adult content creators to have on hand if they are working with other talent. It proves the identity of the performer, identifies the stage name they wish to use and any past stage names or maiden names, and provides proof of age. This is to protect the producer in case the FBI wants to get proof that all the talent on their adult website are above the age of 18. I filled it out without hesitation. I have filled plenty of model releases, age consent forms, and even 2257s in the past, and none of it has come to bite me in the ass (yet!) After I finished all the paperwork, Anderson handed me my money. Yay! I love getting paid at the beginning of the shoot… in case something bad happens, I can just dip out!

     The first fetish we had decided to film was a pretty benign one: “lift and carry”. Anderson said he had never shot that type of fetish before, and I described I usually work with another female model for those, and we are lifting each other and carrying each other around. “Carrying each other?” Anderson asked. “Like in what way?” I found it intriguing that, for our paid time, Anderson was spending so much effort to ask me questions and learn new things to make the shoot a positive experience for me. I really liked that. So I took the time to answer his question!

     “There are different types of carries. There’s the fireman carry over one shoulder, the shepherd’s carry like carrying me like a sheep over both shoulders, and getting carried like a baby!”

     “What’s getting carried like a baby?” He asked. I thought it was obvious… but I made the “cradle” with my arms to demonstrate as if I were in a game of charades. “Oh, ok, got it. Let’s do all three.” Anderson confirmed.

     We started with the carries. Oh yeah, this is kind of a physical thing… Mentally, being carried didn’t seem like an intimate act. I had no weird feelings making lift and carry videos with fellow female models… but once I found myself draping my body over Anderson’s broad shoulders and consenting to him holding my thighs with his strong arms… suddenly it felt sinfully intimate. Would I have agreed to this if the producer were unattractive? I realized at that moment how thin the line can be between professional boundaries and personal feelings, and how much discipline it can sometimes take to hold that line. I tried psyching myself out of my feelings and focusing on participating in the content we were shooting. After all, the cameras were rolling!

     Of the subgenres of “lift and carry”, I have been the “defiant brat” character as well as the “chloroformed/ passed out kidnappee”. The first involves being defiant in the scenario: “You look so weak, I bet you can’t even carry me!” becomes, “Put me down, you big oaf!” and other bratty lines. The latter involves a scenario where the person being carried becomes incapacitated for some reason (hypnotized, chloroformed, drunk, deep sleep, etc.) and is therefore completely limp.

     We had agreed before shooting that it would be easier for me to be limp… as being limp while being carried is also apparently a fetish, and he could tick that box on Clips4Sale when uploading the content. There was no dialogue or context to our video; basically, Anderson was hiring me as an experiment to see if these niche fetishes would actually sell on his site. He slowly walked back and forth in his living room, carrying me as long as he could (and between the three carries, he wanted to fill around 6 minutes).

     Six minutes does not sound like a long time, but each second dragged wistfully on while my small womanly body draped limp over Anderson’s strong carry. The fireman's carry and the shepherd’s carry were not quite as physically comfortable, but the baby carry was to die for.

     Next, we shot the “booty worship” video. Anderson said he had never heard of it before! I think he thought he was supposed to directly interact with my ass… I suppose that content exists out there… but my way of doing it was more “POV” style: talking to the camera as it’s pointed at my butt, describing the quality and royalty of my ass in various creative ad-lib ways, telling the viewer to worship it, while teasing out of panties and possibly massaging oil on it. Just gratuitous ass stuff, basically! Anderson agreed to hold the video camera while I performed for his Clips4Sale audience. I was feeling more at ease than at the beginning of the shoot. His professionalism helped me maintain my own professionalism, which was comforting.

     “Let’s take 5,” he suggested, after the booty video was completed. “Want another coffee?” I nodded yes. Apparently, he wasn’t worried about how much content we were shooting. I was fine with that! Though it had already been 2 hours, and somehow we had only completed two videos…

     “If a model named Candy contacts you about me, please do not engage.” Anderson requested matter-of-factly, as if he had to mention this at every shoot and it was part of the process… I sensed there was some kind of a weird story behind this request.

     “Okay, Who’s Candy?” I felt I had the right to be nosy! Plus, I was super curious to hear more…

     “Well, she’s a very nice girl…” Anderson paused while he finished pouring my espresso for me. “But… she’s not as professional as you.” Sometimes I can’t control my facial expressions … and I guess my eyebrows were raised. Hey, he brought it up!

     “Well, uh… you see….” Anderson stumbled on his train of thought after seeing my facial expression. “Some girls aren’t doing this for the long run… like you are.”

     “What do you mean?” I kinda knew what he meant, but I selfishly wanted him to elaborate.

     “Candy is a very beautiful woman, but she doesn’t believe she is.” Anderson stared into his own coffee cup. “We shot together many times, and she became more and more comfortable with doing more adult-style content with me. She fell in love with me.”

     “Oh, I see,” I now deflected my own gaze into my coffee, as if not to expose how I could relate to his mysterious lover girl somehow.

     “I am somewhat at fault,” Anderson admitted. “I allowed her to spend the night here after some shoots, and one thing led to another, and eventually we started messing around off camera too… But this silly fetish stuff is my income now! I still have to shoot with other models to keep the train running!” Anderson was venting, and I could predict where this train was heading. “After a while of being involved with Candy, I had to end our… situation… She was comparing herself to every model I worked with, constantly asking if I thought they were prettier than her, and it was affecting her mental health as well as my business.” Anderson took a sip. I waited silently for him to finish his thoughts. “When I shoot with a new model, she sometimes contacts them to ask personal questions, and she asks if they have sex with me, and all kinds of nonsense.” Damn, this girl is down bad!

     “Well, thanks for the heads up!” I needed to lighten the mood… “So this fetish stuff is your main gig now? A lot of photographers who hire just me do this as a hobby… that’s cool.”

     “Oh yeah, well, that’s another story…” Anderson turned his gaze away from his coffee and out towards the waving blades of grass in his backyard. For a fleeting moment, the ambient sunlight carved the shapes of his strong neck, jaw line, and cheekbones in a perfect fashion portrait aesthetic. It was a beautiful, sunny day out there… the birds were flirting with each other atop the fence… kind of a shame we weren’t shooting outside, honestly… “I worked in customer service in the mall for 20 years.” WHAT! I worked in a mall too!

     “I used to work in a mall too! I hate malls now, haha…” I butted in.

     “Yeah, not my scene anymore,” Anderson continued. “I was working in a high-end clothing department at Neiman Marcus, the worst customers imaginable. The entitlement…. You worked in a mall, so you kinda get it.”

     “Yeah,”

      “Anyway, one day I just had it. Fuck that corporate bullshit. They were putting my ass on the chopping block for having a personality, basically. Not how humans are supposed to express themselves. So I decided I wanted to make smut for a living. I am happier now.”

     Anderson’s rebellion story reminded me of my own. The values were basically the same: fuck authority and be yourself! Except my “authority” was parents and religion, and his was corporate America. Subconsciously, I was bobbing my head to Rage Against the Machine. Hell yeah.

     I could have talked about this all day, but it was time to get back to shooting. Next on our experimental fetish list was tickling. Anderson had never shot tickling fetish videos. “You’re popping so many of my cherries!” He teased me. I bit my tongue.

     “So the thing about tickling is that the people buying it are often purist tickle fetishists,” I was setting the scene for Anderson, giving him context about how I am a bomb tickle victim. “If the model in the video is faking her reaction, apparently they can tell! So tickle producers really like working with me because I am extremely ticklish for real. I am even air ticklish!”

     “Okay, I suppose you want me to tickle you in the video then?” Is he teasing me? Of course, there is no one else here to tickle me.

     “Yeah, sometimes the producers hire multiple models, and they tickle each other, but I have done some shoots where the producer tickles me.” I permissed. I could tell he thought this was going to be silly.

     “Okay, but… let’s make this a bit risqué. For my clips site. Are you okay with a spread eagle tie?”

     I thought you would never ask! Oh, I mean… “Um, yeah, I am cool with that…”

     Anderson tied me to his bed “spread eagle” style, wearing a tie-side bikini. The ropes (which were conveniently already in place, as if they had been used on another model recently) went under the mattress, and my wrists and ankles were bound at the four corners of the bed. The idea was for him to start tickling me with the bikini on, and he would gradually untie the bikini while tickling me, so there was some kind of erotic progression to the video. I consented to all of this in advance.

     “Oh, I should change my outfit. I am wearing the same shirt from the lift and carry video.” Anderson casually mentioned… while I was tied up on his bed. Suddenly, I felt like I was on a date… tied to the guy’s bed, watching him take his shirt off while I anticipated what was going to happen next. I tried not to stare…

     I feel like I blocked the sensation of being tickled by him out of my memory, not because it was bad, but because I sort of enjoyed it and felt guilty about it. It wasn’t that he crossed a boundary—he didn’t—it was my own inner conflict between professional and personal feelings that surprised me. He even tickled my inner thighs, which, of course, were not on the “do not touch” list of body parts I gave before the session. I writhed and squirmed and squealed and screamed at the top of my lungs throughout the whole thing: wide-eyed and unable to contain my reactions to being tickled! (Those people reading this who are also ticklish can hopefully relate.) Being on this guy’s bed for the tickling was a new feeling, though… previously, any other male producers who tickled me had usually booked some kind of kinky location and tied me to a bench or an x-bar type thing. This was way more intimate, and it required Anderson to basically crawl on top of me to tickle my armpits…

What I didn’t want to look at later, on the drive south, was that it wasn’t his hands I’d reacted to. It was the fact that he’d asked. He’d asked what I wanted, listened to the answer, and remembered it an hour later. Rick had not asked me a real question in months.

     Good lord, Rick would be so pissed if he found this video online! Fortunately, he was too self-centered to monitor my online activity. I did tell him about the bondage and tickling content I did, and told him sometimes there is some touching involved in the damsel type content, but it’s never sexual. Well, this kinda did feel sexual to me suddenly, though Anderson wasn’t doing anything out of bounds, and he wasn’t flirting or getting weird on me. So any weird feelings were my own- left up in my head to deal with.

     Finally, the tickling video ended. My hair and makeup were all messed up from all the struggling. I probably looked like I had been ridden hard and put away wet!

     “That was more interesting than I had anticipated,” Anderson admitted.

     “Ha ha… hopefully it sells!” I tried to divert any attention away from what might be perceived as a pleasurable experience between us.

     The last idea we had originally planned on shooting was “giantess” style content. But because my hair and makeup were already messed up, and it would take time and effort to discuss the “plot” for this weird niche concept and go over camera angles and such… Anderson suggested a simple shower video instead. It wasn’t super fetishy, but he was convinced the eye-candy aspect of it would sell on his site more than giantess, despite me saying that giantess content was some of the best-selling content on my own clips store in the past. I was fine with a shower video, hey, I was just planning to hit the road after this! I was probably going to sleep in my car on my way to LA anyway, so this shower would be advantageous logistically for me.

     He led me into the bathroom, where he had a nice shower with all-glass walls. I could see why he wanted to shoot in it! “I have all the girly stuff,” Anderson boasted. “Models were coming through so often, I just bought products for them,” he had some Pantene Pro-V in there and some fruity face scrub. Oh, how nice! I could truly be prepared for my road trip! “I also have this… I know we aren’t shooting this type of content, but I made this for Candy, and we shot... some hot content…” Anderson pointed to the secondary removable shower head- it did not have the typical “spray” type head, instead it was an attachment that narrowed to a tip, with a hole the size of a pencil. “Here, let me show you,” Anderson reached his arm into the shower to grab the secondary pointy shower head, turned the water on, and showed me how powerful a stream it produced.

     Goddamn, is nothing sacred?! But of course, the whole internet knows how women use the shower head, but I had never dreamed of a concentrated shower head… that felt like cheating!! Even today, when I look back on this moment, I grapple with myself about whether his pointy shower-head introduction was creepy or not. It’s not like he ASKED me to use it; he just showed it to me. It was probably a subtle invitation, and I had the power to open the door to it if I wanted to. I congratulated him on his ingenuity, but declined the possibility of using that for our video. I am glad I declined, preserving my professional reputation. We filmed our normal shower video, and I was able to get dressed, and pack my bags, and get going!

     Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I had just left Rick at the first red flag… or when he pseudo-broke up with me after I returned from Jamaica. I could have had more awareness of my situation… I could have ended that toxic pattern and pursued someone else. Someone who seemed to have empathy, who understood my passions and what I do for a living, instead of just trivializing me and downplaying my creativity and dedication. Traits like communication, the willingness to understand, a desire to make your partner happy and comfortable despite your personal “needs”. Even the care towards my boundaries during the short shoot we had was a reminder that I did not have to be a slave to any man’s erotic whims. I felt like I had a taste of that during my shoot with Anderson, and the thought subconsciously tucked itself away in my memory, living in a folder in my mental tally of reasons there are nicer humans out there to be involved with than the person I was involving myself with at the time…

     This experience reminded me that professional boundaries are not only about what other people do, but also about how I manage my own emotions and choices. Anderson treated me with more consideration than I was used to in my relationship, which was eye-opening, even if it blurred some lines.

     In retrospect, I am confident that I would never want to be in Candy’s position. Without knowing her personally, I can only speculate on the emotional environment she was surviving in. One must uphold personal and professional boundaries so as not to become entangled with a sexual fetish producer, as that person’s income requires them to create that content with others. I know myself, and I know I am monogamous. The feelings I had during my shoot with Anderson were titillating, yet I knew this was just a short-lived experience and would not allow myself to mentally follow that rabbit trail into anything concrete. I do not fault other models for falling in love with the people they collaborate with, but that connection should not cause someone to become jealous of the other co-collaborators who met under the same pretenses that you did. It’s like falling in love with an exotic dancer and then later telling them they have to quit their job: unfair! If their career is a deal breaker, it doesn’t matter how fascinated you are by them. Maybe Rick felt that way about me (as he did compare my nude modeling to sex work and exotic dancing frequently in conversation). Maybe he was resentful of my career and assumed I would quit for him… but was unable to communicate that?

     Anyway, this experience helped me recognize that I deserved respect, patience, and empathy, not just tolerance. Ultimately, the shoot nudged me to start questioning why I was giving so much to someone who gave me so little in return.

OK that was the chapter! I hope I didn't scare you away... haha

*Kristy

XoXo