DARKROOM DYNAMICS: A Guide to Creative Darkroom Techniques

TRUTH BEAUTY LOVE FILTH

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COMMERCIAL PERSONAL

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OVER TAPPING

~~Image: generative ai + embellishments~~

I’m fairly confident that I used to be an over tapper/woofer on the apps. I blame it on OCD somewhat though I don’t want to make excuses for myself because it’s definitely a form a harassment; at least, *I* feel harassed when overtapped/overwoofed—looking at you “hairy hung couple.” But I do try and have empathy for people doing it because I do “get” it though I can be pretty quick with a block. ~~I’m honestly surprised I didn’t get blocked more in the past.~~

For me, the tapping was sometimes late night sexual frustration. Other times it was just a weird boredom muscle memory thing where I’d just not have anything on my mind and would open my phone and click an app and start tapping people before I was even aware what I was doing. Occasionally, it was just that I genuinely forgot I’d tapped someone recently because all guys on the apps kinda look like one of five or so gay guy archetypes or literally an anonymous torso. But I definitely did it.

The interesting thing about going to darkrooms is that it seems to have cured me of the over tapping. In fact, I barely tap any more and there are days when I don’t even really engage much with the apps. I won’t say I don’t engage at all but my overall app use is way down. Like, way down. And I like it. I am, like, the last person I ever thought would say this but it’s better interacting with people IRL. Why tap a torso when you can tap an actual ass bent over a table, amirite? Haha.
DICK BRUISE (TW: DICK BRUISE)

~~image: found photo + embellishments~~

Back in August, I got Covid for the second time and it was pretty bad—worse than the first time, anyway. Somehow while v sick and coughing for a couple weeks, I got … a purple/redgt spot on the head of my dick? It didn’t look worrisome or infected. Close-up it appeared to be a cluster of tiny red dots. It freaked me out when it wasn’t going away and was making me self-conscious. As they say, not unlike happening upon a brown recluse spider, nobody wants to be surprised by a red spot on a dick. Not a single person.

So, I went to the immediate care one evening only to get casual side eye and informed it was some sort of petichiae—essentially a bruise. The nurse said it should go away in a week or two and I felt better but impatient for it to just be gone. But it didn’t go away and I happened to have an appointment with my primary doctor around the three week mark so, I asked again and, again, was told it’s just a bruise. Cool. We love a a dick bruise of some sort that appears mysteriously.

Also coincidentally, I had an appointment with my dermatologist at the 8 week mark. I showed him and he also said it was a bruise (though the post-visit notes said angiokeratoma) … A N D … that it would not go away. He did say, however, for an out-of-pocket fee of $500 he could do a small out-patient elecrocautery procedure to basically burn it off. Was I excited by the prospect of burning my dick with electricity? No. Did I agree to it? Absolutely. Because I wanted that red dot G O N E.

On Monday, I went back to his office and they took a dick pic for my file and then numbed me with some cream and did the procedure. I felt nothing absolutely during the cauterization though I’m kinda sore now. I couldn’t bathe for 24 hours and no alcohol for 48. Gotta keep everything clean and moist with Vaseline for a while. We will look at how things look in 6 weeks and retouch anything missed in the first round.

Everything looks good so far though I think the healing process will be a lot longer than the day or two I’d anticipated. I still have no idea where it came from. Online info says this sort of thing can be caused by coughing, which I definitely did a lot of during my second Covid round. My dermatologist asked me if I’m into penis pumps, which I’m not.

Who knows what caused it but good riddance, dick bruise! I don’t know where you came from but I’m glad to see you go and I’d love it if you never came back.
SEX PESTS

~~image: generative ai + Glitché app~~

Trigger Warning: (sort of) SA

Tonight I possibly saw what I might call a version of sexual assault … I think?

There was this guy who was wandering around trying to insert himself into any possible situation he could. If two guys were making out he’d stand super close—like as close as a person possibly could without actually touching and try and make eye contact or do like make out air guitar at their face. Or if one guy was getting fucked he’d stand behind the top super close. It was A N N O Y I N G and kinda throwing off the “vibe,” as folks say.

This went on basically the entire night but there is one particular interaction I’d like to highlight. These three guys came in and were being pretty loud. They were obviously drunk and one of the three was extremely drunk and kept saying he wanted to suck a dick—a specific rather large dick on display, actually. The two slightly less drunk ones were guiding him through steps and egging him on. They told him to take off his shirt first and hyping him up. It kinda felt like they were not regulars to these sorts of spaces, or at least maybe not the super drunk friend.

So, they got the friend shirtless and aimed in the direction of the giant duck and were egging him on and, just then, the sex pest swooped in and was all over him. He clearly identified the guy as an easy target—out of it and beyond the point of consent and took advantage of that. It didn’t go too far/long but it was awful. His friends just watched. I was about to step in but then it dissolved. It’s possible someone stopped it and I didn’t see.

Thankfully the super drunk guy left shortly afterwards. He shouldn’t have been there at all. I don’t mean that in a victim-blaming way but like … he was just so wrecked. And he maybe needs some new friends. Or, at least friends who can recognize when someone is too drunk to fuck?
BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE DARKROOM

~~image: photo of my clothes check ticket taken under red lights.~~

The city I live in has two main bars with back rooms. One has a “dress code” on weekends and during events; the other does not have one at all. The dress code basically means you have be a little vulnerable. Do you have to be practically naked? Absolutely not, but you need to at least be wearing some sort of fetish gear. Even a union suit counts and that is basically neck to ankle pajamas. Though they do make assless union suits, or at least union suits with a butt flap in the back.

I have not always been the sort of person who is comfortable in my own skin. In fact, I have mostly been one of the most self-conscious people in every situation ever for the entirety of my life. H O W E V E R, when I go to these sexualized spaces, I try and leave that anxiety at the clothes check. I try and follow the sage advice of my buddy who told me to that it’s important some skin in the game. This is where the conflict starts.

In some ways, I like the no dress code ever approach. It’s great to help people ~~I was literally one of these people not terribly long ago~~ check out the scene and see if it’s something they’re into. It’s democratic too because not everyone is in a financial position to even buy a harness and such. But it does create a situation sometimes where it invites a lot of voyeurs who bring a weird energy. I don’t even know how to explain this but there’s a fine line between voyeur and like … idk sex pest and I feel like spaces where there isn’t a dress code seem to invite a lot more aggressive sex pests and pushy voyeurs.

Maybe the oddest energy of all is the young guys bringing their cis female friends in the back to point and giggle. And, to be clear, I really don’t have a problem with cis women in these highly sexual spaces but when it feels like two fully clothed people on a dare, it starts to get weird for me. Sometimes it feels like a breach of trust. As a contrast, a few night ago I was in a back room and there was a cis woman in full gear sucking as many dicks as she could and that was amazing. She fit in great and was invested in the space. Perfect.

But anyway, back to my story.

Last night, I had two options. A formal event with a cover and dress code or informal event with no code. My friend really wanted to go to the informal one bc it was free and closer. So we did and we met another friend rounding out the group at a solid three. Almost everyone at the bar was wearing street clothes. Literally (literally!) one guy was wearing a jock strap and maybe one or two guys were wearing harnesses. It was kinda lame. I could sense a high level of sex pests and voyeurs who had no intent of even taking off their jackets, let alone their pants.

So we had a drink or two and grumbled about it and decided to be the change we wanted to see in the world; or, in this case, the darkroom. We checked our pants and set an example and it worked a little. Slowly a few more guys got braver. Asses were seen. Dicks came out. Alliances were formed. Sunny D Vodka drinks were drank.

It ended up being an fun night but I kinda wish we’d just gone to the other place and paid the cover.

I knew it was time to leave when a dance remix of Fleetwood Mac’s “Seven Wonders” came on. Stevie has never steered me or Misty Day wrong.

~~image: another less successful photo of my clothes check ticket taken under red lights + Fleetwood Mac lyrics~~
ALTERNATIVE POCKETS

~~image: alternative pockets: (l to r) phone holders, wrist cuffs with pockets, stretchy running belt~~

The first time I went to a back room, I was basically wearing street clothes—tshirt and jeans, as I recall. If you want to go, go and wear what you feel comfortable in obviously but I felt a little over dressed and out of place. I ran into a friend there who gave me some good sage advice which that I took to heart. He said, “You gotta have some skin in the game,” and that really resonated with me. I decided that if I wanted to come back—I definitely did—I would need some gear and I would need to get over decades of self-consciousness.

Leading up to the second time I went to a darkroom, I did a lot of planning because I had no gear to wear and I’m just not happy unless I’m overthinking something. I got really fixated on the idea of how to carry stuff with me without pockets. I found a few helpful articles including a couple variations of an article by Alex Cheves (55 Do’s and Don’ts of Attending a Gay Sex Party, Everything You Need to Know Before Your First Gay Sex Party: Part 1 and Part 2) and this video by JustJoeyT:

So I bought a lot of cheap little bags and things to try out from Amazon an ended up liking the wrist cuff pockets (for debit cards/cash) and a belt with pockets but I don’t really use the pockets, just a carabiner I hang from it. The best item—the ultimate sl*t pocket—honestly is a really good pair of socks because you can stuff anything in them pretty much, including your phone. Oh, and a drawstring bag just to keep stuff together in the clothes check but that is optional.
DTF

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I’m getting better at spotting the guys who are “down to fuck,” as they say. It isn’t always who you might think; or at least it’s not who I thought. Like, the guys who stroll in confidently in full garb, sure you *might* see them fuck. H O W E V E R, the skittish, initially awkward guys are ~~in my opinion~~ far more likely get wild. Why? Well, my werqing theory is that they are new to the scene ~~I say this like I am not new to the scene lolol~~ or visiting from the suburbs/out of town and are trying to make the most of it and aren’t going to waste time.
ASS | TITS | PERSONALITY | I DON’T WANT TO KNOW

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JOCKSTRAPS + CPAPS (ELDER CARE)
~~image: generative ai +ee Glitché app~~

One interesting thing about backrooms in bars–something that might be surprising to some folks–is that there are typically a few pretty old guys there. Like, not Daddys but really old guys. I’m bad at guessing ages but definitely over 60 and probably by a good chunk of years. The kind of old where I sometimes think, “I hope they don’t fall over and hurt themselves.”

Some of them are older couples that come together and stay out of the way and watch; others are dressed up in gear and dance or mingle. Sometimes they are pushy or “hands-y” but mostly not. They come for the same community that attracts us all and I like that there is a level of respect and interaction they get in these spaces. I like that the younger guys dance with them and I like that the elders even get fucked sometimes if that is what they are looking for.

It’s maybe helpful to contextualize this in LGBTQIA+ history and remember that they are guys who lived through the height of the AIDS crisis. They probably saw nearly all their friends die, they lived in fear of dying themselves, and there are not too many elders left. So, I love that they are loved to a degree in these spaces and I love that they come to them. I try to say hello and make sure they feel seen. I am not always interested in their advances because engagement of any sort can be interpreted as consent in these spaces but I make sure they feel welcome.

I am not the most informed person on this topic so it is probably better to seek out better sources if this is something you are interested in learning more about. I will add a few links below to related articles/resources that I found helpful and maybe you will as well.