Ryan St. Germain

Monthly Archive: May 2016


“Do you want to have kids?” she asked me as I tied her wrists over her head.

Strangely enough it didn’t seem like such an odd question, even given the circumstances.

“Depends on the person I’m with”, I said.  “Having children isn’t an ambition in and of itself, having a family with the right person is”.

I tied the rope down tight and she smiled and my knotwork.

“How about you?”, I asked, “Do you want children?”.

“Yes, I do. I want a little me out in the world.”

She looked up at me for just a moment and then looked away. Her long eyelashes fluttered briefly as a thought crossed her mind and I worked the rope into place.



S. came over yesterday afternoon for a shoot; we’d been talking about it for some time and I’d missed being behind that camera so I called her earlier in the week and was happy when she said yes.  We agreed to a brief bondage shoot and I was happy to hear that it was something that she enjoys in her personal life and was looking forward to in the shoot.

The conversation as the rope came out lead to a discussion about the type of dominant that she enjoys and the evolution of the dominant that I am.  S. tells me she likes to be able to take what anyone gives her and not be broken. For her, it’s about the strength of her will and I appreciate that about her. She told me that she enjoys being chocked, but only a certain type of man and I appreciated that too. She painted a picture of someone who would hold her after being rough with her.

She asked me what sort of woman I liked to dominate and my answer for as long as I can remember has always been to say that I want a women who wants to be dominated, but doesn’t need to be. One who is strong and is giving her submission as a way of letting go. I’ve realized though that the nurturing dominant in me is growing into a bigger role in that dynamic and when she told me that I was gentle with the rope, she asked me in so many words if I was a ‘daddy dom’ type and for the first time I realized that I can at least relate to that role now, even if I don’t see myself quite that way.

We all grow, we all evolve and sometimes it just takes someone lending a different perspective for us to see it ourselves.


She held my face in her hands, tracing my jaw line, running her fingers against the grain of my stubble as I looked into her eyes. The red glow of tail lights streaked across the back window as someone flew past the parked car we sat in. Her hands were familiar and the moment felt like it was too, though I’m not sure we’ve ever had one quite like it.

“I’m so glad you came to see me” she said, and I was glad that I had too. I looked into her soulful eyes but only for a moment, because it’s always easy for me to get lost in them if I linger too long.

When I got into her car earlier in the evening, she asked me if I had a music preference and when I told her to play what she wanted, she selected She & Him Sentimental Heart. I looked out the window paying attention to the lyrics as I sang along softly, knowing that she hadn’t chosen the song accidentally. She told me a story about seeing M. Ward open for another band we both liked years ago as her car cut through the night.

We went into a restaurant that had once been a garage and she told me a story about having her car fixed while she waited in the room we’d come in through. I was too quiet at times and I could tell she was nervous. She excused herself from the table and when she came back, she hugged me from behind and kissed the back of my neck. I liked the feel of her arms around me, and I hugged her back as best I could, closing my eyes at the feel of her lips on my skin.

We talked until we were the only ones left in the restaurant about any number of things and she reluctantly made a little confession about having watched some of the scenes that I’ve been in. She asked if it was weird and I told her it was ok, but I asked her questions and told her that from now on she had to tell me when she watched them, which scenes she watched and why.

“The why is pretty obvious, I would think” she said.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it”.

I wanted to know what it was; me, the situations I was in, the dynamic? Was it the role that I played on film, which is very often calculated and not at all like I am in real life? She texted me the following day with an example and the reason, which put my mind at ease. That wasn’t the only reason I wanted her to tell me though, truth be told; knowing her reasons now, I like the notion of knowing when she has and the fact that she’ll tell me. I could picture where this would lead and I liked that too.

We were the only ones left in the restaurant and not wanting to keep the staff any longer, we went back to her car, where we sat and talked.

“I’m not taking advantage of you, am I?” she asked, my face still in her hands. “I know you are tired and your hearts been broken” she added and I knew she was asking for my sake and not because it changed how she felt or what she wanted.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked and I wondered how far we would let things go.


Turning Points

Madison and I sat together having Sunday brunch, talking about work, about the end of my last relationship and what’s happening in my life now. She’s been a good friend to me, listening when I needed it and when she offered the distraction of meeting at a mutual friends place for brunch, I was happy to take it. She asked me what I’d been doing to keep myself busy over the weekend and I told her.

“So do you mean friend or friend“, she asked, eyeing me sideways.

I’d had someone spend the night and it was really nice having company but it had also brought about a sense of guilt, which was quite unreasonable given that I’m no longer with Emily.

We’d spent the late afternoon in the park, where I sat and taught her a little bit about playing poker after we’d picked up a deck of cards. I shuffled the deck, noticing how the sun made her fair hair glow and her pale eyes sparkle. Her skin was sun kissed and her smile was full of warmth and kindness and when she aimed it at me, it made me feel alive. We parted ways after a few hands, but she came around to mine later in the evening and I made a simple dinner for us. We ate in one of the empty rooms of my apartment, laughing about the absurdity of it and it was a much needed escape from the sadness and fog that had been clouding my brain. We sat on the balcony, trading stories about life, love and loss as the light disappeared behind the rooftops across the street. We had a moment sitting out there in the dark, neither of us wanting to break the silence. That night we fell asleep together on the couch watching ‘Firefly’ and that too was nice, but it also left me with the misguided feeling that perhaps I was doing something wrong.


Faster now

I got behind the wheel of her car today, which coincidentally was just like one I used to own. I followed her back from the garage, liking the way that it felt to be on the road and in the driver’s seat after so many months of being just the passenger.

I looked out of the window and watched as she drove the silver BWM back to the friend that she’d borrowed it from, keeping pace with her as she weaved in and out of traffic. The tree’s flying by and the feel of the pull of the car took me back to a road trip I’d taken between Las Vegas and New Orleans a long time ago.

I remember driving through New Mexico and seeing dark clouds in the rear-view mirror. The top was down and the rain was catching up to me. I kept telling myself ‘next exit I’ll stop and put the top up’, but I kept letting them pass even as the first few fat drops of summer rain belted the windshield and splashed my face. I remember feeling alive, really truly alive and more than a bit reckless as the smell of the rain hitting the dust wrapped itself around me. It smelled of something green taking root in an unfriendly place and thriving despite the conditions. It smelled liked perseverance and a bit of tenacity and I liked it. Exit after exit passed me by as I pulled away from the storm that was chasing me.