For a while, it felt like every good thing led to another one. That's the part of the story I want to start with.
June–July | Before we met
We scrolled back through our messages and made a list of scenes. We showed each other videos we'd bookmarked, including things we didn't like. Being able to point to a moment and explain what felt good or off about it helped us get more specific than a list of acts ever could. You can agree on what you're doing and still be imagining very different experiences. I wanted us to understand the small preferences that would shape how it felt to do those things together.
July 22: Betty arrived, and we went to brunch. That afternoon I met up with cosmicbroccoli, the creator I'd originally come to Austin to see. We ended up talking on the floor of their studio for hours. While I was out, Tiff had time with the apartment and our list of ideas. She thought through how scenes could work in the actual space and wrote down her own plans for them.
July 23: We started with foot worship. She'd never had that experience, and the premise was simple: let her find out what she liked. I encouraged her to say what she was feeling, what tickled, what she wanted more or less of. She could hear herself give feedback and feel me respond to it. If she wanted to give a more direct instruction, there was room for that too.
That first scene mattered to me. She could be curious on camera without needing to arrive already knowing how to play a commanding domme. Paying attention to her own experience was enough to make the scene work. I wanted her to get comfortable noticing what she wanted, saying it, and seeing how much I enjoyed following her lead.
We filmed another foot worship scene and a playful spanking scene, took a break, then filmed her first two pegging scenes that afternoon. Over those two shooting days, the ideas we'd been texting about became actual footage: the makeup, the cheerleading, the roleplays, the beautiful light. I brought the cameras and worked on framing and lighting, then got in front of them with her. She brought the personality I'd liked in her solo work, now with someone to play off of.
By the end of the trip, we were having girl dinner and looking at places for FetCon. She floated the idea of me staying at her apartment afterward. We'd barely finished one trip and were already finding ways to make the next one longer.
July 25–August 6 | People liked us together
August 6–11 | Back together in Florida
On August 8, we hadn't planned to shoot together that night, but ended up doing it because we felt like it. The setup was haphazard. We laughed afterward that it was our worst porn and best sex yet.
After the convention dinner on August 10, we talked for hours while we packed. The next day, we drove the four hours to her apartment and kept going. I remember feeling that I was getting to know the person whose company I already liked so much: where she came from, what had hurt her, what she wanted her life to feel like now.
August 11–18 | A week at her place
That first night at her apartment, I told her I was feeling close to her and was open to something more personal developing between us. We talked about the age gap and agreed that a conventional boyfriend/girlfriend relationship was hard to picture. My understanding when we left that conversation was that she knew I'd be receptive if she wanted to make a move, and the next move was hers.
The next few days were domestic in a way I hadn't expected this collab trip to become. We got a bed for the guest room, hung pictures, and worked on decorating. We filmed little things and edited. Princess Honey followed her too, and the possibility of going to Chicago to work with her gave us something new to be giddy about.
On August 12, we had dinner at home, opened prosecco, and stayed up talking until around two. We did it again the next night. That time more of the conversation was about me. She wanted to see old pictures, so I dug up my ancient Facebook and we talked about the strange route my life had taken from those pictures to her apartment. We were spending whole days together and still finding things to talk about after we should've gone to sleep.
August 14: We spent the day editing, then went to a local kink meetup so she could get vetted for events. Back at her place that night, we were talking in bed when, as I remember it, she started kissing me. We had sex off-camera for the first time. After weeks of talking and days of getting closer, it felt tender and unhurried to me.
August 15: We filmed two scenes at her apartment. I loved how we were together in them, but we wanted a prettier space, so we booked an Airbnb nearby for the next two days. We had sex again that night and stayed up too late.
That evening, we went to the grocery store, came home with Publix subs, and booked a place in Brooklyn for October. We were also talking about Chicago before that. We had sex again that night. The next morning she drove me to the airport, we kissed goodbye at the curb, and I left with a lot to look forward to.
August 18–27 | More of everything
August 27–30 | Waiting for the result
I was trying to share what I was afraid of. In the same message, though, I said that the only realistic explanation would be that she'd got it from me. I moved from describing a possibility to presenting a conclusion without really noticing I'd done it. Then I tried to make the conclusion less frightening.
September | Keeping the plans
At the time, that felt like giving us room. There was also a practical limit to how long we could leave everything open: a major collab in Chicago, flights to book, and a month together in a $6,023 rental. We needed some idea of what we could still do together. Waiting indefinitely wasn't an available plan.
The message called our meeting kismet and imagined us getting through this as part of an extraordinary origin story. Those were real feelings, written while I was dysregulated and afraid of losing something that had mattered enormously to me. The approaching trips made a conversation necessary; they didn't require me to put all of that into it. I wish I'd moved more slowly and asked for less. Saying she didn't have to answer didn't make an enormous message easy to receive.
September 22–24 | Chicago
My memory of the first couple of days is of barely speaking. We'd once had trouble ending a conversation at two in the morning. Now we were in another beautiful apartment together and mostly keeping to ourselves.
One morning, before a collab she had arranged, we had a warmer interaction in the kitchen. We left open the possibility of me joining in. I went back to my room to get ready, excited that something might finally feel easier. Then she noticed that I'd unshared two of our Instagram collab posts.
Late September–October | What I deserved
After Chicago, I stopped trying to get us back. What kept us in contact was the apartment, our belongings, the footage, and arguments about what had happened. Some of my replies were still long and emotional. Their subject had changed: I wanted to finish separating our lives, and I wanted to be able to answer what she was saying about me.
She had every right to decide she didn't want me in her life. The change I want to describe here is what happened as we tried to separate: her anger became a justification for punishing me. The friendship was ending, but the obligations we'd taken on together kept us in contact. That was where our relationship became abusive.
Much of this happened in writing. There were calls, and the fight in Chicago isn't transcribed here. But the messages show the requests, the replies, and the point where an argument about a booking becomes a threat to someone's livelihood. The threats and the explanations for them are still there, in the words she sent.
October–November | What to do with the footage
In the same memo, I brought up the work we still had to release: selling the videos, posting clips to promote them, and possibly submitting our last scene for awards. I asked how we could handle that while otherwise having no contact. I ended by saying plainly that I didn't want her in my life or want to keep thinking about her. The work was something I still wanted to put out into the world after we were done with each other.
November onward | The public story
June 2026 | This document
September 4, 2026 | The story is still growing
The
September account reproduced on the allegations page retells the earlier events and adds the website and police contact. It describes me trying to pressure or blackmail her into deleting a post and replacing it with one saying I wasn't a predator. By this point, my attempt to answer the allegations had become another allegation itself.
I wanted to be good for her, and for a while I believe I was. When things changed, I tried too hard to find a way back. Chicago ended that effort. While we were untangling the plans we'd made, the conversation became one in which I could be threatened, mocked, and told I'd earned it. Then that explanation traveled outward, into a public story that kept growing after our contact stopped.
The good weeks didn't make her owe me more of them. My mistakes didn't make me hers to punish. I can take responsibility for how I treated her and still name what happened to me as abuse. Much of it is here in the words we sent each other, including the ones I wish I hadn't sent. This is my account, with that record beside it.
i love your ideas so much 😭😭