RANDY NEEDS A FETISH

By:  Randy Gillis

Well, now that 55 is no longer a theory, I involuntarily (it’s a physical side-effect of turning 55) began to reflect on my life, where I’ve been, where I am and where I’m going.  It was a sucky 5 minutes let me tell you.  There is so much I haven’t done yet and since time’s a wasting I’d better get going.  First on my list is to find a fetish.  It seems like everybody has one these days.  I know what you are thinking but I don’t consider Harrison Ford to be so much a fetish as a delusional obsession and we all have those (right Mormons?).  Now, Harrison Ford AND his bullwhip might be treading into fetishville.

 

I wasn’t sure how to go about finding the perfect fetish.  I kept hearing things like “you have to look deep inside yourself.”  The last time I tried that my back went out and I fell to the floor.  Then I stumbled onto a show called KINK (on Netflix).  I figured it would at least show me what my fetish isn’t.  I watched 2 seasons in a row. 

Let’s get the more common ones out of the way.  I can’t be a sadist (dominate or “dom” for those of us in the know).  There’s a certain level of sincerity you have to bring to the part that I just don’t have.  I would be the Barney Fife of sadists.  Try to imagine Mr. Limpet with a whip.  All the other sadists would laugh at me which would wreak havoc on my self-esteem.  I also couldn’t be a masochist (submissive or “sub” for us insiders).  My joints ache enough as it is.  I also tend to be chatty when I’m nervous which makes it hard to carry on a conversation while being flogged.  Combine that with my slowly diminishing mental faculties which would cause me to forget my “safe word” resulting in a whole lot of extra pain I didn’t sign on for.

I do love that in the “kink” world the words “top” and “bottom” have slightly different meanings, with top usually being the spanker and bottom being the spankee.  You see, I never enjoyed spankings as a child and I can’t see how they would have improved all that much through the years.  And the spankings I saw in the first season were WAY over and above anything I got back then. 
Next, the show seemed to think that being a drag queen is kinky.  I thought we were beyond that now.  Either way, can’t do it.  I believe drag queens are born, not made.  You either have it or you don’t…and I don’t.  I say that with regret because drag queens are freaking awesome! 

Leather fetish is out because it is just too damn expensive and the leather community is pretty unforgiving about imitations.  I learned that the hard way by showing up at a leather ball in a pleather outfit.  Let’s just say it was a long night for Randy.


Next would be the entire category involving excremental bodily functions.  Sorry folks, but once the vomiting starts (yes, there’s actually a vomit fetish), I usually check out.  And generally speaking, that goes for all the other unpleasant biological side effects (each and every one a fetish to some) of being human.  Besides, if I want the ‘ultimate humiliation’ I’ll go to SEARS and try on bathing suits. 

Piercings?  No.  Let me clarify that.  I mean piercings for the sole purpose of inflicting and/or feeling pain and/or to produce blood for the blood fetishists.  Actually, I’ve aged out of cosmetic piercings at this point so; I stand by my original answer of….no.  A quick rundown of some of the thousands of other fetishes offered no more hope of finding something that screams me. 

 

Body modifications other than piercings?  Nature is taking care of that all by herself.

Food as foreplay?  Lord, that’s so much work and I’m on a calorie restricted diet so rolling around in celery and raw carrots isn’t exactly enticing.

 

Polyamory?  If you mean me and Harrison Ford AND Richard Gere, then yes.  Otherwise, no.

Fisting?  Only if you’re talking about that stitch in knitting.

She-males?  A she-male is a man who has reached the midpoint of his journey and decided to stay awhile, enjoying the best of both worlds if you will.  Too expensive and requires body modification.  See above. 

Minding off?  The practice of achieving orgasm without being touched.  Considering the fact that I can’t achieve waking up without touching myself, I wouldn’t hold my breath.
Bondage and discipline?  I tried it once but the guy I was with ran away when I brought out the hefty-bags and twist ties.

Sounding?  The practice of inserting plastic or metal ‘sounds’ (long, thin and very smooth objects) into yours or someone else’s urethra.  I’ll be facing a catheter soon enough and I see no point in spoiling the surprise.

I was about to give up when I came across another show called STRANGE SEX (also on Netflix) and wouldn’t you know, after all the hours spent ‘researching’ I finally stumble across a fetish I could actually get into.  It’s called Looning and the participants are called Looners, people who have a balloon fetish.  Is that adorable or what?  I watched as Looners reveled in their balloons, slowly inflating them until they burst, releasing a jolt of ecstasy that many describe as orgasmic.  They ride them like hoppity-hops, writhe around on the floor with them, pressing them against their naughty parts.  It seems relatively harmless.  There didn’t seem to be too much in the way of fluids and they left hardly any whelps.  It’s cheap and requires no expensive costumes or accessories and, if practiced discreetly, can be done while looking at the prize heifers at the State Fair.  It’s perfect for me.

Oh, who am I kidding?  Even Looning requires more interest that I am able to generate.  Maybe I should just move on to number 2 on my list; visit the Grand Canyon.