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Archive for the ‘privacy’ Category

I couldn’t resist looking at the beautiful man-body chopping wood next door so I did something I think (I thought?) is really, REALLY wrong: I took sneaky pictures of him without his knowledge or consent. And now I’m doing something even MORE wrong: I’m posting one of them here:

He’s not our neighbor, he just delivers and chops wood for our neighbor. And I HAVE to watch him do it, because the guy is incredibly beautiful. Not his face, just his whole old-fashioned working-man’s body with that wedge-hourglass shape. The thick pants with the shiny metal details, the gloves, the white tank top, the cap, the scraggly mullet and those pale muscles built up in the shade and from working outside when it’s raining, because it rains all the time where he works. He’s like an 80’s version of the guys in old propaganda posters like these:

I have always been in love with watching men do physical labor. Even though I felt sort of dreadful about it, I was compelled to run and get the camera. I stood in the kitchen and snapped a few pictures where he could have turned around and seen me. But before that happened, I ran into the bedroom and took pictures of him through the crack between two panels in our shoji screen so he couldn’t catch me watching him through the magnifying lens of our camera. My desire to capture his image forever outweighed the voice in my head reminding me I was doing something wrong. Something I’ve seen/heard of other people (men) doing that sickened me, but that memory didn’t stop me from doing it myself.

You shouldn’t spend time on fetish-oriented forums online if non-consensual voyeuristic photography (and other stuff) bothers you. You’ll find out things that you just don’t want to know and see things you weren’t meant to see. Like pictures of used maxi pads guys steal out of public restrooms or photos a foot fetishist surreptitiously took of his neighbor’s niece’s bare feet while their family unwittingly enjoyed a barbecue in their driveway. The woman was probably in her twenties and the guy who took and shared the pictures described his sneaky method for capturing them and the type of camera and settings he used and how he managed to not get caught.

The freaky part is the way these people usually don’t even acknowledge the line they’re crossing, or worse, act like they’re ENTITLED to snagging these things that belong to other people. Of course, half the time someone with common sense will challenge these people or point out the err of their ways, but most people don’t bother to post any opposition, instead just showing their appreciation for what the voyeur-thief has “created”/salvaged for the members of the board. Or they will critique the spoils, like the guy who complained that the neighbor chick with the bare feet was so fat, how in the world could the spy-photographer possibly think anyone would be interested in seeing her or be aroused by her himself? So not only is this woman with the arched foot and a BBQ rib in her mouth being displayed on the internet without her knowledge or consent, she’s ALSO having her weight criticized. AWESOME, right?

I pretend that I’m not quite as bad as these sociopaths because I know what I’m doing is wrong. But I guess that actually makes me worse because I know it’s wrong and I’m doing it anyway (and those guys on the forums might know it’s wrong too, they just don’t waste time making a big show of acting guilty about it the way I am in all of my gross hypocrisy).

I can pretend I’m conducting an experiment or research. That I’m a writer. That the end result of provoking thought about these important issues of privacy, consent, and all SORTS of interesting things is worth the negligible or nonexistent “damage” I’m doing. And after all, it’s a really REALLY grey area, right? I mean, how many people would even think me taking and posting the picture of the axe man is wrong if I didn’t tell you that *I* think it’s (maybe) wrong? And this isn’t really a blog entry about that guy, it’s about me or the collective us and the image is actually a snapshot of me — the voyeur — and my thoughts, not him. It’s entirely possible to intellectualize it that way. He could be anybody. You can’t see his face. No one will ever know who he is. Probably not, anyway.

And would he care if people DID know? Maybe he’d WANT to be credited and known far and wide as The Woodsman Who Got Trixie Hot. Of course, that brings me back to the obvious trespass of not asking for his permission to photograph him in the first place, but speaking of consequences, *I* certainly don’t want to pay them. I don’t want *him* to know he was chopping wood next to TASTYTRIXIE and therefore knows about our websites and where I live and can tell everyone how to find me (I’d have to tell him about our sites in order for him to give INFORMED consent, though that disclosure would be out of ethical, not legal obligation; you don’t have to specify where or when something will published on a consent form, just that you as the photographer have all rights to the photos which legally you don’t REALLY need to do anyway since in our country the photographer automatically owns the photos, not the model). I don’t want to tell a big strong stranger with an axe and a cock that he gives me a boner and I want to take pictures of him — LOTS of pictures. Well, I do sort of want to tell him that, but I know it’s not such a good idea/could cause problems. He might be weird or scary or even if he isn’t, then our neighbor (a decent neighbor, not our scary neighbor) would know about us and that would make everyone on the block uncomfortable. Most of all us.

If it were my actual neighbor out there making me hot chopping wood, I wouldn’t have taken the pictures. Because that would be violating the good neighbor code of pretending each other doesn’t exist. And I certainly wouldn’t take pictures of his young daughter! Even if it were to record how she trespasses on OUR property, walking just three feet past me sitting in our window. Well, maybe I would (for proof of trespass only!), but I wouldn’t post them on the internet. But maybe only because I’m a pornographer and could get in trouble for it just by virtue of that fact.

When I pondered these things aloud to Delia, she doubted my assertion that if it were a woman out there, hanging laundry or washing a car, I totally wouldn’t have taken the pictures. She’s probably right. After all, I took this picture (without her knowledge/consent) of a hot redhead fishing because she had a really great ass:

It’s the kind of picture you can get away with taking in public and even sell prints of in local galleries that don’t have any artistic standards. It’s the kind of picture no one (except other wankers) would bat an eye at as long as you keep up the appearance of it being completely innocent. Even though I know that I took it purely out of sexual/sensual interest. And I know that any straight man with a camera would have taken it for exactly the same reason (or to prove to himself that he wasn’t) whether he would admit it or not, and there are tens of thousands of men with cameras with hobbies or professions doing exactly that. I know a lot of people who take completely g-rated innocent-loo
king pictures and jack off to them later even if they didn’t intend to when they snapped them.

Part of me feels justified in posting this because there are so many writers and artists and reporters and network television stations getting away with doing so much worse with absolutely no compunction. It’s only people like me who openly call ourselves pornographers who are recognized for exploiting and objectifying others even though we play be much stricter rules and are faced with much harsher penalties for violating them than any other industry would be. But that train of thought is just another diversion from asking myself how *I* would feel if my neighbor were peeping through a crack in the blinds taking pictures of ME doing yardwork or thinking he’s not home when I sunbathe naked on our deck when actually he’s hidden behind a tree and rubbing his crotch against its bark. Of course, I’d feel totally different about it if I had a teenage son or daughter being spied on. But the guy chopping wood is clearly an adult. And he wasn’t sunbathing naked. And again, I don’t think I’d care if my neighbor secretly stood in his kitchen taking pictures of me as I walk around OUR kitchen at night topless (which I do sometimes with the blinds open, not because I’m an exhibitionist but because I just don’t care) as long as he didn’t hang them in the post office with our address printed on them or something.

Meh. Now that I think about it, I really don’t care. As long as someone stays on their own property (not sneaking onto mine or a stranger actually stalking into the neighborhood to spy on us or putting on an obscene display of masturbating and shooting cum into our yard) and is only taking pictures of what I do outside or with the windows open then who cares. It’s kind of fucked up, but not a huge deal. It’s not like I’m lying in wait every day, conducting surveillance on everything that our neighbors and their visitors do.

After completely overthinking this, I absolve myself from guilt. It’s harmless and legal. But I guess if I give myself permission to be an opportunistic voyeur-perv-photographer that means I have to stop being shocked and offended by other people who do the same thing. I’m reluctant to do that.

Here’s a couple with a sleeping bag and no picnic basket that I shot entirely because I knew they were setting out to lie down together and *do things*:

If I hadn’t admitted that and had posted the picture somewhere else, like on a stock photo site using woman-approved keywords like “young love” and “spring romance” (and cropped out our cracked windshield & wipers giving away that I’m like a dirty old man doing a drive-by) it would probably be perceived in a totally different way. It would just be a bad snapshot. But because of who I am and what my site is and my confession that I’m a voyeuristic pervert who sees sexual potential everywhere, it seems more DIRTY and exploitative than it really is. What if a local television station were doing one of those weather “stories” about how people were still going to the beach even though it’s overcast, and those two lovebirds were in the background? Would the station be committing an evil deed? If not, why does it seem so evil when I do it and admit that I see erotic potential? And why would it seem so much grosser and more evil if I were a man instead of a woman?

Bah.

Speaking of double standards and being a horny woman, check out this post by Goddess Glory where she describes her friend getting mad at her for drooling over a waitress’s ass at dinner:

“. . . my mind was completely focused on fantasizing bout our waitress’ beautifully ginormous ass sitting on my face, cutting off my air supply.”

Tonight while Delia was at her AA meeting I really wanted to play piano and sing, but as usual having the audio on the cams makes me feel totally self-conscious. I know I shouldn’t be, that even if I suck ass it’s entertaining, but that doesn’t matter; I want to be alone.

It’s not that hard to turn the audio off on the cams, but I feel guilty about it and worry that people just joining for the first time will check the cams, not hear anything, and think I lied about broadcasting audio. On the other hand, I feel guilty about not doing something I enjoy and value (making music for the sheer pleasure of it AND to practice/improve) so I think I’m going to start setting that time aside when Delia’s at her meetings for alone time at the piano and just turn the audio off on the cams. I might even log in a special silent cam since I don’t mind people WATCHING from a voyeuristic angle, I just don’t want to be heard, critiqued, etc.

Maybe if I keep that up we’ll start having monthly or weekly “performances” or something so the mystery can be revealed and to motivate me to focus on doing more than just noodling around.

A little something I just posted on the “Fertile” Trixie blog:

Debating when to take a pregnancy test and whether or not to videotape it

I have a feeling I’m going to regret posting these little video rants with my thoughts and reactions to the whole “Letters from Working Girls” debate. And you may very well regret listening to them; honestly, they probably won’t make sense to you unless you read the back story here:

*Audacia Ray’s reaction (and discussion in comments) to Letters from Working Girls

*The discussion on Bound, Not Gagged

*The Letters Collector herself on the debate (a nice try, but still didn’t settle my stomach)

Can I just apologize in advance for being a sputtering asshole? Oh, and I realize by posting this I’m probably just driving my own little slice of traffic to her; in spite of how my blustering sounds, that’s more than fine with me. Also, I am NOT speaking for anybody or on the behalf of anybody but myself.

You can DOWNLOAD MY WHOLE (.14 GB) RANT FOR YOUR IPOD or watch smaller chunks of it right here (and I promise the next vlog or audio post I make will NOT be so long & burbling):

PART I:

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PART II:

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PART III:

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PART IV:

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PART V:

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PART VI:

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Oh, you know how I said I couldn’t find a picture of Susannah Breslin? I *did* find a video of her:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLe9JA3FI7I&rel=1]

She reminds me of Selma Blair (hot!) which makes me even MORE interested in finding out exactly what type of sex work I can hire her to perform. Watching her talk about a book of short stories she wrote and hearing her blur the line between truth and fiction to the point where I can’t tell if the book is, indeed, short (fictional) STORIES she wrote about “aberrants” like “midget porn stars” OR nonfictional essays about real people. Does anyone know? The promo piece reinforces my sense of her as someone who’s less interested in being true to people’s real stories in the sex industry and more interested in harnessing our curiosity about them to market entertaining tales of our perceived deviance for her own gain. Again, I don’t so much mind someone exploiting a resource (I’m not someone who thinks there’s no room in the world for pimps) as I mind someone bullshitting everyone about that being their primary objective.

And hey, I don’t want to make it sound like my own hands are clean; I’ve used a lot of the same tactics (or would if I could unclutter my mind long enough to APPLY the techniques of efficient exploitation), just not very well. So go on, everybody! GET that publicity! GET that traffic!! USE WHAT YOU’RE GIVEN!!! Wankers send you material? THAT IS BLOG FODDER! Someone wants to give you content without getting anything in return except the pleasure of putting it before an audience? TAKE it and USE it! Let Susannah Breslin be your guide!

Oh, and I wouldn’t argue with her about Susie Bright being a sex worker. The quickest reason I can give (which still probably doesn’t make sense)? She has confessed to her own personal fantasies that are so taboo as to be considered obscene by our government just to talk about them. Maybe Breslin has, too, though and I’m just not familiar enough with her (sex?) work to know.

Note: with the amount of time and energy I’ve wasted on this compared to the MAJOR stuff I ignore in my blog, you might think engaging in this little brouhaha is somehow more important to me than other things; it’s not. It’s just one of the few “discussions” I’ve been involved in lately and enjoyed, probably because it was mostly smart women doing the discussing (and yeah, Breslin is one of those women, too).

SHORT ARMS MAKE FOR GOOD PEDICURES

I got a girly foot job today. Because there was a special half-off deal going on. And because we rented a nice room to shoot in tomorrow and really, what’s the point in blowing money on a fancy room to shoot swank nudey pics if your toes look nasty?

My “nail technician” was a cute heavy-set blonde with her hair done up in Bjorkesque knots. She was not much taller than I am so her arms were pretty short in comparison to her boobs which stuck out a lot. As a result, my toes patted and prodded her fluffy pillows of breastage. During the massage portion, my feet (one at a time) were even engulfed in her cleavage.

I know you all think I’m a total fucking pervert who couldn’t help but get off on this sexually, but honestly I kept my thoughts pure in spite of the pleasant feeling of my feet touching a cute-looking woman’s breasts. I *do* love touching people with my feet on both a sensual and sexual level, but I got the feeling that this girl was fairly new to her craft; she seemed very preoccupied, as though she were trying to follow a script she learned at beauty school or was handed by the salon owner.

I’m guessing it’s probably difficult to have her body invaded like that when she’s trying to work and that she has to do some mental and emotional work-arounds to deal with having strangers’ feet jabbing and patting and smushing against her tits. My feet are really small so I can only imagine that people with normal or large feet REALLY press up against her. Given her inexperience and her personality I just felt sort of awkward on her behalf. Awkward in a way that would be hot if it were fiction, but that any decent woman could resist eroticizing (at the time, anyway). My nail technician seemed to hold her cards close to her chest when I tried to get her to talk trash about our respective towns; she avoided say anything very personal or in a familiar tone.

She was pleasant, but clearly had her guard up. I chalk it up to the boobs and being new to her trade, but it might also have been because her boss could hear us. Regardless, I felt it was NOT the time to be getting all horny over the feet-on-boobs action. Even when I saw my little toeprints-made-of-lotion dotting the front of her black shirt. Even when she said, “you’re still wet so I’m going to keep you here a little longer.” Even then, I did not allow myself to indulge in x-rated fantasies.

“But Trixie, it’s not like she could read your mind! Why censor your thoughts?”

BECAUSE. Sometimes dirty thoughts leak out like bad gas and fill a room with discomfort. I believe they do, anyway. Some people can intuitively pick up on someone else’s hard-on, even if it’s purely mental and poses no physical threat. I have no desire to victimize a professional nail technician even if the victimization is only happening in my head. It’s just disrespectful . . . sometimes you have to rise above your baser instincts. Without acting rigid and readably uncomfortable, you have to detach yourself, particularly when you see that the other person is sending signals that detachment is what she needs.

People who touch other people for a living without actually doing sex work — therapeutic massage, nails, hair, facials (haha), etc. — still provide very intimate services that are supposed to make customers feel good, physically and emotionally. I think they go home feeling similarly emotionally exhausted by the shifty boundaries they’ve dealt with all day, touching people’s sweatiest places, hearing their stories, trying to be receptive to chat while not annoying clients by talking TOO much themselves (or entertaining clients who like that sort of thing). I think they deserve a lot of respect (and good tips) for that and deserve to preserve some boundaries; I would just feel wrong about violating that, even in my head. Especially when my feet are already on her boobs.

OOPS!

After ranting about the need to protect my identity with a stage name, I just discovered I accidentally used the real name of a guy I fooled around with. Here is the beginning of the story, with his name consistently changed (in the story I used a fake name 75% of the time, but his real name the other 25%):

All of the girls in our dorm creamed their white Christian panties over Treat, the Hawaiian guy who lived on my floor. Hell, all of the girls OUTside of our dorm creamed their white Christian panties over him. I thought he was an idiot, but as time went on I confess to creaming my panties over him too. I distinctly remember staring at the bump under his white towel as he roamed our floor after a shower, and wanting some of whatever he had under there. Wanting to get a load of it, both figuratively and literally speaking.

Once my friend and I spent a casual evening in her room with Treat, interrogating him as to WHY IN THE WORLD so many girls seemed powerless to his charms. What was his secret? How did he weave his cheesy spell over them? After feigning modesty for awhile (part of his signature appeal), he revealed with intense seriousness that he learned everything from his favorite television show in junior high: Beauty and the Beast, starring Linda Hamilton as the beauty and Ron Perlman as the Beast. Yes, you read the plot description correctly: “The adventures and romance of a sensitive and cultured lion-man and a crusading District Attorney assistant”.

If you want to read the rest of it, it’s here in the members-only area.

STAGE NAMES & TIDBITS

Yesterday I accidentally spoke my legal name (first AND last) aloud over our spycams when I forgot to turn the audio off before making a phone call. Fittingly, the phone call was to our cable company in hopes of fattening our internet pipe so that we can broadcast MORE spycams, faster (so people can overhear even more of the goings-on in our house).

FYI: though I’m not super-uptight about a few voyeurs knowing my legal names, it’s not an invitation for people who know me as Trixie to address me as anything other than Trixie (or “Trix” OR even “stupid ugly cunthole” – even that would be preferable to people puncturing my webwhore bubble by assuming a level of familiarity I’ve not expressly solicited). There are actually quite a few members, past and present, who know my “real” name, and they’ve done a great job of earning my trust by respecting that Trixie is my chosen name for my webwhore-related interactions.

Having said that, there *have* been a couple of times where people used my birth name online to put me in an uncomfortable place trying to show me that they knew something they weren’t supposed to. It was like they wanted me to know I couldn’t get away with “fooling” them. Also, there have been people who are hell-bent on knowing my “real” name, repeatedly trying to drag it out of me; anyone who seems to think he NEEDS to know my birth name is someone I don’t want to have that information. For one thing, “Trixie” is just as real a name to me as the one my parents gave me because I gave mySELF this name. I really detest anyone who acts like the name I gave myself is inherently fake or phony. Plus, someone who doggedly refuses to acknowledge the importance of having a stage name just for privacy’s sake in this industry is someone I don’t want to deal with — they are the people who give whores good reason to protect their identities and keep them separate from their family lives.

Someone trying to convince me to tell him my real name once tried to appeal to my sense of fairness by saying, “but if I join your site, then you’ll know *MY* name and personal information so I should know yours, too!” Wow — and by his logic, when he joins my site and gets to see and hear inside MY HOME, it would only be fair for me to see and hear inside HIS home. Using his rationale I would apparently be justified in using the name and address associated with his credit card to go to his house and spy on him and his family and maybe google his name to find out where he works since, after all, he gets to spy on ME while I am working, right?

Of course not. That way of thinking is ALL WRONG. Anyway, the product I sell isn’t “fairness” — it’s FANTASY. Sure, I pride myself on offering a more authentic and less fictionalized version of the porn fantasy, but I don’t enter into a reciprocal relationship with my customers. It’s not like, “you show me your credit card, I’ll show you mine.” No, it’s an exchange and I set the terms. If private information like my birth name were to be for sale, I would SELL it as such. For like, five million dollars since it would pretty much be a one-time deal because anyone who thinks that information is too juicy for me to deserve to keep it under wraps would probably post it all over the internet anyway and I wouldn’t be able to sell that information again. And because I would want to make the point that YES, I DO think my private information is worth more than yours, and if you’re hell bent on stalking me to get more out of me than I offer professionally, you owe me the kind of money that will afford bodyguards, a nice home security system and a really lovely arsenal.

It’s not that I don’t understand being curious and it’s not that I think that kind of curiosity is pathologically dangerous — it’s not the curiosity that bothers me, it’s the disrespect shown in trying to SATISFY that curiosity. In the example of the guy who thought that since I could look up his real name in my system that he should get to know mine, it’s like he was trying to take me down a peg by getting me to say something like, “gosh, you’re right! What, do I think I’m *better* than you? No, I’m just an untrustworthy whore trying to exploit you with my fake identity and shouldn’t be trusted with your personal information without handing over an even more literal pound of flesh than the ones on display in my members-area. Who do I think I am, using my fraudulent porn persona to extract your personal information? Before you waste twenty dollars to see my life’s work since 2002 I need to make sure we’re even-Steven and I’ve been properly subjugated by your superior will.” These guys with their sense of entitlement scare me, but not enough that I won’t confirm their worst nightmare: YES, I NOT ONLY *THINK* I AM BETTER THAN YOU, I *KNOW* THAT I AM BETTER THAN YOU. How do I know? By your horribly ill-mannered invasiveness, that’s how I know. Oh, and I ALSO KNOW THAT THE VAST MAJORITY OF MY CUSTOMERS ARE BETTER THAN YOU, TOO, BECAUSE THEY DON’T PESTER ME IN THIS SOCIALLY RETARDED MANNER AND EVEN IF THEY DO KNOW SOME OF MY “SECRETS” THEY DON’T TRY TO RUB MY NOSE IN IT.

T I D B I T S

*Good news: Nico (our dog) doesn’t have a tumor; she had weed seeds that burrowed into her skin and became infected and swollen. Apparently this is a fairly common thing that happens to outside-dogs in the summer. The vet extracted the little buggers and prescribed some antibiotics, so all is well!

*Good news: I recently lost a few pounds. Bad news: I think I lost them off of my boobs. I guess that’s what happens when you go off the pill.

*We bought a new printer last week and I still haven’t had a chance to figure out where to put it or even just unpack it and smell it’s new-machine smell. It’s a photo printer, so maybe now we’ll be able to sell 8×10’s (there seems to be a niche demand for autographed 8×10’s of webwhores, fyi).

SHOOT PREP

We’re going to be gone for three days / a couple of nights in a rental shooting as big of a buttload of photos as we possibly can. Normally we don’t do a great job of taking care of our fingernails and toenails as we should given our line of work, so I scheduled a manicure for Tucker and a pedicure for myself today. I think the asian guy doing my feet tickled them on purpose with his pumice stone and got a big jolt of pleasure out of making me squirm and giggle.

So. I did do the brunette thing again and even a shade darker than last time. I LOVE IT!

Anyway, there won’t be any action on our spycams while we’re gone since there’s no internet access where we’re going. I know, it sounds like we’re living in some kind of a time warp, but we tend to rent places that are in rural locations for our shoots so modern amenities like internet access can’t be taken for granted and honestly, I’m kind of glad. We like to get away from the spycams and just immerse ourselves in shooting and then having bedtime all to ourselves with no computers humming or peepers peeping.

Porn film allegedly causes man to try rescue from rape

WAUKESHA – An Oconomowoc man who thought he heard a woman being raped allegedly busted through a neighbor’s door, carrying a sword, only to find the neighbor watching pornography.

James Van Iveren, 39, was released last week on a $5,000 signature bond and is scheduled to appear in court again March 9, court records show. He was charged with criminal trespass to a dwelling, criminal damage to property and disorderly conduct – all while allegedly carrying a dangerous weapon.

According to a criminal complaint in the case, a neighbor of Van Iveren’s reported Feb. 11 that Van Iveren kicked in his door and threatened him with a sword, demanding, “Where is she?” Van Iveren allegedly forced the man to open a closet in his apartment.

“After finding no one, the person upstairs indicated he’d been watching a pornographic move and as a result Van Iveren left the apartment,” the complaint alleged. “Van Iveren complained that the ‘rape’ had been occurring for several hours but after finding out it was only a movie, stated the whole incident was a mistake.”

I love this story. LOVE IT. It’s a perfect example of how blurry the line is between “harmless” porn consumption, and how freaky it would be to hear or see or experience in real life some of the things depicted in porn.

Of course, maybe the “rescuer” was just a nutso, otherwise why didn’t he call the police and do so much sooner? Oh well. If more people stepped up and intervened when they heard someone in pain or being abused maybe we’d see a lot more people rescued from horrible situations.

I wish the reporter disclosed the content of the porn the guy was watching, because seriously — if you have the volume cranked up on a traumatic-sounding sex scene or something full of degrading language and your neighbors can hear it, you should have charges pressed against you. Maybe. Same goes for having CSI turned up too loud, or Law & Order: SVU. Fucking sick shit.