I Bring It Out In Them

A woman was trying to explain the benefits of her fetish. How come so many conversations with me involved start off so normal, “Why yes,” I say. “I would like a beer.” only to go to places I didn’t expect earlier in the day?

She explained that, at first, she liked to be spanked. But how, over the years, she’s evolved. Through therapy she discovered it was because her father, who was the main disciplinarian, actually only had contact with her when she was getting spanked. I mulled that over a bit before saying,

“I got the shit kicked out of me when I was a kid. My father was dead so I think my mother tried to make up for it by proving that a woman could do anything a man could do. So I’m pretty sure if she was kicking my ass and I popped a boner she’d have called in back up to help beat my ass.”

Years ago I’d heard there was an underground sex club around the corner from where I lived. That’s nice, was my only thought. One night I’m walking down a dark side street in the business section of town. The only things open around were a couple of bars. The street I’m walking down was completely closed.

In the distance four or five pierced, leathered and whatevered people were walking toward me. I didn’t think anything of it until they stopped at an obviously closed furniture store. I’m walking past and see them pulling at the door. I thought nothing of it. Although they may have looked the part of thugs they weren’t. Everything was just too shiny and perfect. No respectable B&E man I know would dress up to pull a job.

I didn’t give it a second thought as I continued on my journey. It wasn’t until later that night, drinking at a bar with a cop friend, he told me about a raid they pulled the night before. It turns out that very same furniture store had a very successful, and unlicensed, dungeon in its basement. It had been running for years and wasn’t discovered until an inspection of the building was done by the city.

On a hunch I asked, “The basement of a furniture store?” The cop glances sideways at me. I laugh. “I just walked past there and ran into a few unhappy customers.”

Other than my lack of desire for pain, I’d have to say the real reason I couldn’t get into a fetish is I’m not a big accouterment guy. I carry as little with me as possible; most jobs I do I pretty much walk in, use what’s there and get right to it. No belts, no hats, no tools. And pretty much sex is like that. Stick it in, wiggle it around and, depending on my mood, sleep.

I’m just afraid if I did get into some fetish I’d end up disappointed too much of the time.

“Aw shit!” I know I’d say.

“What’s the matter?” My girlfriend would inquire.

“We can’t have sex tonight.”

“Why? Did you forget condoms?”

“No! My toolbox. You know I can’t perform without my pliers.”

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One response to “I Bring It Out In Them

  1. Is that a can of fish in your pocket?

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