Go fetish in Amsterdam

By: Elizabeth Forster

A fetish party! Now that does sound like fun doesn’t it, a bit like an Anne Summers party but with men there as well. (Women are so much more open about their sexuality than men. Can you imagine a bunch of hairy chested men gathered together in one of their living rooms discussing the merits of pink velvet handcuffs?)

Just the word fetish alone is enough to make us sit up and take notice, our minds racing with images of women in high leather boots carrying whips, and men wearing studded collars. Or then again, maybe men dressed in nappies being told what to do by a strict matron before matron decides to be nice and give them a special treat. Nothing to do with the likes of you and me of course, but then again, could it? Malcolm Muggeridge, broadcaster and social commentator from some few years back famously said that we are never so ridiculous as when we are having sex, and maybe that is why, for most of us at least, sex is something we prefer to do in private. After all, if during an over heated moment with your loved you find yourself asking her if she would very much mind pretending to be your teacher and you’ve just got all your homework wrong, it’s something that only the two of you will ever know about, or at least you hope that’s the case.

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I’m going to stick my neck out and say that there’s very few of us who don’t have a bit of a fetish about something or other when it come to our bedroom activities, some garment word or activity that, when we think about it, gives everything a bit more of an edge and makes sex that much more fun. For some people it might be the only thing that makes sex possible at all. For most of us our fetishes were seeded in our very early years ready to trigger unconscious sexual responses in later life. A man friend of mine told me that his earliest experience of sexual pleasure was when he was aged about eight and playing with a bunch of other kids. He was wresting with one of the girls, had overpowered her, and, as you do at that age, tied her to a tree. He said that when he got to the point where she was completely in his power his body was flooded with a strange sweetness and a powerful need do something to her, but in his innocence of all things sexual he had no idea what it was. Now grown up and enjoying a modest bondage fetish, he understands that it started with that childhood game. Those of you who read my previous article, Educating Elizabeth, know I enjoy being spanked, and also with me this is because of influences from my young life.

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There’s a simple test to see if you have a fetish or not. If you enjoy sex just that bit more when, say, your girlfriend wears stockings and high heels you don’t necessarily have a fetish, but if sex is out of the question unless she’s dressed that way you definitely have. If on the other hand you prefer it when she’s not there at all provided the heels and stockings are, you’ve got a pretty serious fetish and it’s your girlfriend I feel sorry for rather than you.

On the 13th November, Wasteland are hosting a fetish party at North sea Venue, Amsterdam and regrettably I won’t be able to be there, but I’m sure it’s going to be a hoot. There’ll be wrack upon wrack of whips and leather and PVC, and probably enough rubber to keep a tyre factory in business, but I’m guessing that the most interesting thing there will be the customers. Fetishes and masturbation have a lot in common in that we take it for granted that everyone gives themselves a hand from time to time, if not masses of the time, and when we think about it, there’s no reason why Nigel in accounts shouldn’t be spending his evenings dressed in pink rubber pants and a gas mask. But the thing is, for Nigel as well as the rest of us, our auto-erotic activities are generally a secret, and a bit of a shameful secret at that. At the fetish party, most of the congregation will be making an exhibition of the fact they like nothing more than being caned by a strict headmistress before being sent to bed. Should we laugh at them, or should we admire their blatant enjoyment in whatever it is that turns them on? Maybe we should all be learning something from their honesty.

 

Go along to it, you know you want to. I’ll guess that you’ll protect yourself with a veneer of ironic detachment, determined to look as if you just happened to pop in there by chance and have no actual interest in the merchandise on display. But then, well maybe your lady love would look rather fetching in that red leather topless corset, and if she gets difficult about wearing it, well, you could just put her across your knee and spank her. And if she struggles, maybe a pair of those hands cuffs would be just the thing, and while you’re at it…..

 

 

About the author:

Elizabeth Forster is an erotic writer who lives in England. See her book, Educating Anna on www.pinkflamingo.com , also available from Amazon as a kindle download or check out her Blog, Sexuelle at www.perfumedkisses2.blogspot.com

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