In the real world, the first piece of information that you usually learn about someone is their name and profession. In the fetish world, however, this is more often than not the last thing that you might discover, if at all.
When the house slave of my local fetish club asked me out for a date, simply to have afternoon tea, I accepted readily. I was intrigued about him, I have to admit. It was a known fact that he had greatly admired pictures of my feet that I had posted online. He had gone so far as to leave numerous comments that extolled the virtues of my soft soles, high arches and short fat toes. Then, he had gone into tantalising detail about what exactly he would do to them, given half a chance. I am a real sucker for a good foot massage, it has to be said. So, when it came to our tea-drinking tryst, I did wonder whether a free foot rub might be included.
The first time we had met in person was at a fetish event. He took great pains to introduce himself, even though his extreme nervousness made him stutter. That detail made me feel extremely powerful and essential to the functioning of his perverse imagination. Since then, I have bumped into him several times on the BDSM scene. He has usually appeared in an amusing variety of extremely compromising positions. I have seen this man tied up, worshipping someone feet, getting whipped and humiliated. I have even seen him naked.
This inverted state of affairs was entirely due to us meeting exclusively in a fetish context, to begin with. In the vanilla world, it is quite often the opposite that is the case. In vanilla dating, people would be ashamed to reveal their kinks, at least until after they had been intimate in a conventional sense. Even then, there is no guarantee that their kink interests would be accepted by a new lover. Many fetishists remain in the closet, for fear of being judged, ridiculed and rejected by their partners.
For example, if I discovered that a man I was seeing had been with all my female friends, it would be the ultimate turn-off for me. In a fetish context, however, knowing that the house slave of a local club is often shared among the pre-eminent dommes of Spain is like giving him an official seal of approval. It actually makes him appear more trustworthy and only improves his sub credentials. It must be highlighted, of course, that in most cases there were no bodily fluids exchanged. For many practitioners, BDSM isn’t about sex, But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t sexual.
The afternoon set aside for our tea date arrived all too soon. When we met up, he had just finished work. He wore a highly conventional suit and I must admit that I was almost shocked by just how normal he looked. At no point during our conversation did we even mention BDSM. Nor did he massage my feet, sadly.
I learned that he was employed in the healthcare sector (I did wonder if this had led to his preference for the medical fetish kink or vice versa). He went on to list his favourite films, the books that meant the most to him and the complexity of his family situation.
Although he was a nice guy, my inspiration faded despite my initial curiosity, the thought of sitting on his face seemed less appealing. That does not mean that I will say ‘no’ to a neck massage the next time I see him if he is offering. It goes without saying that we will invariably cross paths again.
When we finished our tea and said goodbye, I realised that I still had no idea what his name was. But of course, in the clandestine world that we share, that detail is hardly relevant.