Bukkake is the sexual act of multiple men ejaculating on another person covering them with their semen…

Just reading the description makes me feel uncomfortable, uneasy.
Multiple men. I can’t go there.
It’s an immediate roadblock, one that makes me want to cover up and shrink away from that kind of attention. It makes me feel crowded, and I need to get away.
I don’t want hands on me, mauling, groping, grabbing my body.
Even in fantasies where I imagine being taken by two, it’s the feeling of the cocks fucking me I get off to, not the presence of the faceless men they’re attached to.

And it’s not that I don’t like jizz, I do, but I like it hot, and fresh from source. I love the feel of it hitting my skin, especially my cunt or tits, molten desire that I can spread over my clit and get myself off with.
But cooling, cold, congealed, I hate it. Honestly, it makes me feel a little sick.
If Sir requires me to clean his cock after he’s fucked me, then I do it as soon after as possible, when any left on him will still be warm as my tongue laps it gratefully up.

The thought of being naked infront of multiple men with whom I have no close, romantic relationship terrifies me. It’s only now I’m happy with my nakedness infront of Sir, yet even then I sometimes relapse and try to cover up the parts of myself I dislike the most. Nakedness equals vulnerability, to me anyway. It isn’t the freeing feeling I’ve heard others describe.
*sigh* I often wish it was.

When I think of bukkake, I automatically equate it to jizz on my face.
Jizz on my face equals humiliation.
<pause>
There’s an odd dichotomy there, a disparate duality within that word. I have a humiliation kink, I can be poked and prodded, have my emotions and feelings twisted until I feel utterly broken, but I can only do this with an audience of one. Infront of that one, I am free to explore the ugliness of humility, to process every emotion that surfaces, however that manifests.
But add many to that equation, and the humiliation is multiplied to the point of being injurious to my state of mind.

I can be used by one, fuck, I love being used by the one, but to be the one infront of the many, to be used by that many, and to ultimately wear their seed upon my body,
my skin,
my face.
I can’t go there.

Ultimately, when I think of bukkake, it’s difficult to put a positive shine on what feels, to me, like a threatening situation.