I met Erin Yashida while I was shooting male domination and female domination wrestling vids with a heavy foot fetish angle. It was a hot summer, but it couldn't last. She was gay, but a little in love with me despite herself. It can happen. And far stranger things.
Erin answered my Craigslist ad and after some good email exchanges that said a lot about her eagerness to perform and wrestle asked if we could upgrade from my coffee meet briefing to a dinner date for sushi at her favourite spot on the Danforth. I'd seen her pictures, of her bare feet, and head and shoulders, all I asked any model for. But I had little idea of her body type. Her face was a rounded rectangle with lush features: her lips, her rounded cheeks, her oval eyes so round they were almost circles. She had a gorgeous smile and looked just a little devious.
I arrived second, which I hate. No time to get into character. I'm a normal guy with a weird side. The light pornographer with no nudity. Just a foot, degradation, and bullying and wrestling fetish. No time to get my look in order, my notes on what I wanted to cover: my pitch, model release, et cetera.
"Hi!" She waved at me from her little nook in the corner of a Starbucks at Queen and John. A busy one. The smell of dark coffee was thick in a small express Starbucks with tons of coffee being made all the time. She had chai tea.
She was pleasantly fuller figured, very attractive. She had curvy hips and rounded, toned buttocks that showed easily in her black track pants. She was very fit, looked like she could outsquat most men her age who weight trained. I loved her body immediately. Began to think about wrestling her. Long black wavy hair, big warm excited smile, like she was meeting her cherished uncle. She was twenty-five or so. I was 38. Am 48 now.
In a moment I had a dark roast and sat in the nook opposite her.
"Hi, Erin. Nice to meet you!"
"I'm nervous, but I'm so into this. You have no idea," she said. Her eyes sparkled.
"That came across in your emails. I wish I could pay you more per hour just on attitude! But you may get all the gigs if we work well together and have fun."
She wore a white tank top, had tan skin, long wavy black hair, and wore black form-fitting track pants and black runners. A ball cap with a local brewery's logo on it sat on the table between us.
"I'm going to be your jobber of absolute first choice. I want you to step on me. Make me suck your toes." She fixed me with her twenty-five-year-old eyes and seduced me entirely. There was lust in her eyes. A great deep lake of it.
"Wow. I've never had—"
"I've watched your videos you know. Watched and watched them over again. I'm Prescila12 on my credit card statements that you get. I buy any video of you domming men."
"You're a fan. My goodness. Never met one in the flesh before."
Erin winked at me. "You're so genuine. You're not even a bit mean."
"No, I love women. I think they're better than men in almost every way I value, make better friends, allies, supporters, and, if they would, they'd make better leaders as well."
Why do this? Test to see if she has a brain? I had a perfectly enthusiastic fan of my fetishes wanting to do a shoot with me. I regretted what I said immediately.
"I actually agree, but I'm gay, so I bring a different perspective than most women. WE call them breeders, but that terms says nothing about them an everything about us I don't like."
A brain. And gay. And lusting to suck my toes and wrestle me. Be stood on by me.
She laughed.
"What?" I asked.
"Is it gay women or smart women that astonish you to the point of dropping your lower jaw?" She reached across the tiny circular table and even with her short, muscular arms she was able to take a hold of my cheek between her thumb and index finger, shake it gently and let go leaving my cheek feeling warm. "You're so cute! Only men have that totally gone, checked-out bottleneck of thinking and reworking assumptions. Because men are arrogant. They relax all their weight onto the picture of the world they trust most, never changing it to reflect anything new they've absorbed."
A brain, indeed.
"I don't disagree," I said, rallying and resisting the urge to rub my cheek and examine the realness of the experience. I'd never been seized like that by anyone but my parents when I was little more than a toddler. "But in my experience, women will not lead, not when the advantage of leadership is to be taken, nor when it is handed out. I wish that were not so."
She regarded me, her stare almost blank, but a sliver of contact with me remained as she took a turn to be set back on her heels by surprise.
"Fascinating. You fascinate me. I want to talk to you about why you give a fuck about female power later, okay? Let's talk about what we need to talk about to get rolling on these videos."
"Okay. I'm shooting degradation videos outside while the weather is so good. Probably High Park, full of people, but lots of areas with a little cover if we feel we need it."
"Why would we need it. No one's getting naked, right?"
"Well, given that we'll be taking turns standing on each other, that might alarm passersby in a way that a foot massage that turns into toe sucking at a park bench doesn't."
"So what? We wait, the cops show, we tell them we're making youtube videos for people into trampling, they fuck off. There's nothing illegal about it."
She laughed. "You're doing it again. Spacing out. Stop it."
"Sorry. You're a lot to take in all at once for someone of my limited experience."
"The sadistic, flamboyant Victor Black is shy of witnesses? Lacks the courage of his convictions to keep shooting despite someone calling the cops?"
I agreed with her, but did lack the courage of my convictions and often sought compromise. Lightly travelled, but still public.
"So, the action we'll be filming—"
"I want crowds of people seeing it live as I take your foot down my throat," she said, softly. She was no boor about her libertine ways. Charming. I was amazed at how when confronted with a woman telling me just what I want to hear about sex I was mentally on fire with arousal but no erection at all. This was the hottest interview I'd ever had with a model.
"So I'll be standing on your face, but not nearly full weight. I'll be leaning on a chair or tree or something. Or the ring ropes, if we shoot in a wrestling ring."
"Go on," she said, smiling and leaning in. Her attention sharp and full of anticipation.
There are standard safe activities that you've seen in my videos. Standing on bodies, faces, foot on private parts, toe sucking."
"I want you to treat me like you treat the guys. Really, really rough. Look at me!" She flexed her muscular arms and traced her meaty, toned thighs. "I can handle being treated really roughly. Like you do in you matches against the guys. You look like you're really punishing them."
"They want it."
"So do I! I love being bullied and degraded. Even mildly hurt—bruises, that kind of thing. So do you think you'll be comfortable standing on my face full weight?"
