Public Fetish or Private Kink – Who Cares What People Think

Kinky Fetish Us

A friend of mine explored the public fetish club scene in quite some detail some years ago. He was one of the players who would occasionally direct a “performance” in the play area. He became part of a group of who would dress outrageously to gain entry and be around other like minded people. Fetish clubs are known to be non-judgmental and relaxed. People can live out their desires in a safe, accepting environment. Yet he chose to enact his real fetish in private – in his own personal dungeon.

A person’s kink may be a particularly sexual act, or their fetish may involve a garment that someone else would need to wear. I know of a man who cannot actually ejaculate unless his partner is wearing a mask. His actual attire is not important. So the clothes worn to a fetish club may not necessarily be the actual object of fetish. With this in mind, perhaps the one fetish all the club goers have in common is exhibitionism – the need to be seen in public as part of the pleasure set. Whatever the rationale, fetish clubs appear to be enjoyable places, where you get the opportunity to socialize with other people who may exhibit similar or complementary sexual deviations.

As far as I am concerned my fetish – it is more of a kink – is one that I have always been very public in owning. I readily shared the details of this desire with my and friends – but unbeknown to them, I closed that open door and carried out the sexual venture in private.

My partner also knew about my kink, so right from the start I told him that one day I would like him to dress up in a particular way on a date night. Then the evening could continue in its usual fashion – him deciding what the events would be, but he would remain in the clothes I had chosen. As the time drew near I began to feel the excitement mounting within me. It has always been a real kink/fetish of mine to have a man being sexually explicit with me dressed in a skimpy pair of knickers, holdups/stockings, over the knee boots, a tight waist coat, hat and a masquerade eye mask. But none of my previous partners would agree to do it, let alone carry it off with panache. So I would just play out such a fantasy in my head whilst masturbating.

I opted for my “puritan porn “outfit – a black high-neck dress with rounded white collar, fitted tight across my breasts, nipping in at the waist and flaring to knee length. I added a choice and recent acquisition – some skin colored, seamed stockings: pure style.

We went to dress at the same time and it was with slight trepidation that I returned to the sitting room. What if I didn’t find the look attractive after all – or if he was uncomfortable in such feminine garments? Of course we are talking about my man here and a surge of admiration and sheer lust ran through me when I saw him comfortably walking around the sitting room, lighting candles and preparing the room in general. He’s got great legs so the holdups looked impressive. My lacy knickers were taut against his cock, the sight making my cunt contract. When I first met him I was attracted to a slight campness about the way he held himself. This trait served him well in the garments he was wearing.

He turned and complimented me on my clothes and particularly approved of my new seamed stockings. I walked round my man, admiring from different angles. I put my hand on his cock tucked so neatly within the confines of my knickers. Then I watched him walk across the room, marveling at my good fortune! We sat down at the table and he opened a bottle of champagne. We chatted and looked, and chatted more.

He stood up.

He tied my hands behind my back.

“Kneel,” he demanded.

I knelt as he took his semi hard cock out from the restriction of the panties. He held the back of my head with one hand and his cock with the other. Pushing my head forward, so his cock slipped deep within my mouth. He started to thrust hard as he began to fuck my face. My eyes began to water and I released a stifled choke trying not to gag. Pulling my hair back with one hand he looked down at my upturned face, and with the other hand he slapped my cheek swiftly twice. I let out an involuntary cry and he shoved his cock back in my mouth proclaiming I was a dirty bitch.

Now rock hard, he untied my hands. I stood displaying my black bra, skimpy knickers, suspenders, seamed stockings and heels – as he removed my dress.

“You look great.”

“So do you.” I smiled at him.

He roped my arms above my head to two hooks in the beam and pulled my knickers down. Picking up one of his hand made whips he struck me on the arse. The small knots at the end of the lengthy tassels packed a blow. The sting throbbed for a moment and as usual I just felt as horny as hell. Bitter – sweet agony.

“Ask for it,” he demanded.

I whimpered, “More please,” as the whip landed across my stomach, causing my breathing to quicken.

He stood facing me and began to kiss me undoing my bra at the same time. Hungrily I tasted his mouth as my breasts tumbled out. His mouth found my nipples and began to tease and bite them, forcing his fingers into my cunt.

Bending he picked up a different whip, one with smoother tines. He stood to the side of me and with a swift movement struck my breasts several times in quick succession.

Untying me he pushed me to my knees. Holding my head he forced his hardened cock back between my lips. He began to swing his hips forward and back as he steered his cock for his pleasure. I could feel his eyes on me as he then took hold of his penis and began to rub it all over my face – in my eyes and on my cheeks.

“Lick me gently.”

I began to tease the end of his knob with my tongue and at the same time he shafted his foreskin back and forth. He began to groan and in a start his warm cum exploded over my face and mouth. He continued to rub it into my skin and hair, mouthing “good girl.”

Leading me into the bedroom I lay on the bed with the mirror in view. His head went between my legs. Using his fingers and tongue he forced me to climax, all the more intense for the image I could see in the mirror – him kneeling in front of me – still donned in the sexy, effeminate outfit I had chosen for him.

To finally get to play out my off beat fantasy was truly liberating. My self-esteem grew in the knowledge that my partner accepted my sexual choices – my wants were no longer being frowned upon. Whether you want to pursue your unusual sexual desires in a public arena or in a private dungeon is insignificant. It is more important that you are not afraid to open your mind and express yourself in an uninhibited way.

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May More
May More lives in the UK and has her own sex blog to highlight that people have a choice how to express themselves sexually. She advocates that sex should be liberating and not bound by social conventions. Her writing is inherently personal – with posts describing her own sexual ventures into bondage – plus other more earnest articles pertaining to topical lifestyle issues. Visit Sex Matters for more information.