coquetterie

Attractive fit guy for gal with shoe fetish - 35 (Midtown)

Reply to: pers-960824664@craigslist.org ^[?]
Date: 2008-12-16, 8:43PM EST

Hello Ladies,

Attractive guy here lookin for a lady with a shoe fetish.
I’m seeking someone who is interested in a relationship.
I’m fit, and employed in the tech field.

Please send pic….

NO GUYS

+ + + +

Let me just say that the article, posted initially on Craigslist, above annoys me to no end. As a professional dominatrix, seeing the word fetish used in the wrong context annoys me greatly.

A fetish is something (shoes, bondage, clamps, etc) that is necessary for a person to achieve sexual satisfaction or something which one fixates or obsesses on irrationally. Women who enjoy having oodles of shoes, generally speaking, do not have a foot or shoe fetish. They are not sexually excited by the idea of receiving, wearing or taking the shoes off. Nor do they spend their free time obsessing over them.

In some regards, I think many women bought into the Sex In The City stereotype. With the wild popularity of the show, women identified with the characters’ exploits and also strove to be more like them. In doing so, the herd mentality emerged and what the characters did, so too did the herd. Me, personally, do I like shoes? Yes, although given where I live, more often than not I’m barefoot. That’s every two weeks I have a pedicure.

In fact, let’s delve a little further into this anonymous Craigslist posting, shall we? This gentleman certainly may not be a submissive; that’s fine. He’s not looking for a relationship, either. You don’t bribe potential dates with shoes, or anything else. To find a young lady for a date, you win her over with charm, humor and charisma. None of that is on offer in his ad. In fact, there is scant little about him to offer a young lady, other than his desire for her to love shoes.

In fact, I believe he is the one with the fetish. Ladies, there isn’t anything to fear from a foot or shoe fetishist. Indeed, being with a gentleman with that predilection only serves to see your feet pampered and/or copious amounts of shoes overflowing from your closet. Neither of which are a bad thing.

What I see in his post is subtle. Personally, I believe this gentleman will buy you the shoes you desire only if you indulge his whims. Perhaps, I believe I project these onto him given my line of work; or, from what I witnessed first hand. My belief is this gentleman is trying to top from beneath. In exchange for a lovely pair of shoes, he may request to worship them or be walked on by them. Or, he might want something else altogether different.

I suppose my issue with this comes down to this one central idea: he isn’t being honest. If you are looking to play in exchange for a lovely pair of shoes, then just say it. Don’t get some poor woman’s hopes up for something that isn’t going to emerge. Lastly, accept your fetish and get over it. It’s infinitely more common and less shameful than you think.

Now Playing: This Charming Man from the album The Sound of the Smiths (Deluxe Edition) [Remastered] by The Smiths

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Clients are funny creatures. To me, they manifest themselves as an endless source for amusement and wonder. After some calls, I ponder, “Why the fuck would the enjoy that sort of fantasy?”

A repetitive and fun client, I’ll call him Davidus, calls to relive the same fantasy, ad nauseam. Davidus seeks to relive the humiliation he faced at the hands of the popular girls and boys in middle school.

Now, these aren’t just any popular girls and boys. Oh, no! The girl is a bouncy blonde, who cheers for the local Pop-warner football team. The boy is her boyfriend, the star player, whom everyone can’t wait to see on the local high school team. Davidus, on the other hand, revisits his middle school role as social misfit, A/V club geek [as well as probable library assistant] and all around socially awkward teenager.

The fantasy I weave for him begins with me morphing into the blonde. I become the embodiment of bitchiness, pettiness and teenage petulance. I lure in Davidus with false promises that he doesn’t see through. I extract things from him whether it’s completed homework or tangible items, such as jeans of boots. He has a fetish for women wearing them together.

Then once I obtain the desired item, I exploit him. Perhaps, I embarrass him in front of the student body, beating him up in the hall way, showing what a weak, pathetic geek he is. Or, perhaps I make him service my boyfriend, laughing and taunting him. This goes on until he hangs up on me. That’s the only indicator that he’s reached his pleasure pinnacle.

Another aspect of his fantasy, he enjoys humiliation from his culture. He is Jewish. And, although I haven’t seen him and rely solely on his word, has large ears, a large nose and is chunky/overweight. So, in my sweetest-yet-most-vicious voice, I call him Pinnochio, Dumbo, putz and so-on. The so-on being other horrible things.

What I don’t understand, why he seeks to relive this torment repeatedly? Why it inherited sexual overtones? Why this provides such a release for him? And, oddly enough, other clients seek the similar treatment in connection with their culture.

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I write about sex. I like it. I enjoy it when I have it and I want to have it nearly ceaselessly. Currently, I’m not having it, though. Why? I’m partnerless by choice.

When it comes to men, I make wrong decisions. Instead of picking the good choices behind doors number one or two, I always zero in on door number three. What does our lovely contestant in the game of sex and love find behind that door: not what she seeks.

Because of that, I’ve decided to take time off from men. Oh, I still fantasize all the time about fucking; how I want to fuck and be fucked. I ponder all the cruel, deliciously mean things I’m going to do with a partner when I have one. And, I take out my frustrations on clients. The rewards from that are generous.

And, for those of you not in the know, BDSM, fetish and kinks do not always play a part in my sex life. Just like sex doesn’t always play a part in my fetish-y world. Sometimes, the cruelest games to play are the mental ones. And, I enjoy it, with the right partner.

It takes a special man to agree to these sorts of games. It takes a special man to separate the play from the reality of life. And, the games that I play require additional fetishes or kinks to be present to enhance the game. I know it must seem that I’m speaking in circles or being deliberately obtuse. And, I am. I’m not going to spill all the beans, not right away.

The first rule: Always leave them wanting more.

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