Slippery Slopes

...sometimes I get creeped out when I’m home alone because I’m not sure if I’m actually alone. We’ve talked about how we can play around with this fetish–a sexual interest that does not seem to be going away–in a way that allows me to feel safe. While I was happy to do it once, I don’t want to act all slutty in front of all the random pizza delivery guys in town. I don’t want all the pizza guys to think there’s this hot bitch just waiting to fuck them at our house. And can’t we get kicked out of a hotel for harassment, or even arrested, if the “fantasy bell boy” is not amused? I want to indulge my husband, but how do we go about this without endangering ourselves or getting arrested? Plus will it ever be enough or am I sliding down a slippery slope? Will we ever get back to the basics? Where’s My Husband? I’m glad you took my advice, WMH, and that you were GGG for your husband (that’s “good, giving, and game” for anyone just tuning in). I’m extremely distressed, however, that your kinky husband, once you began indulging him, opted to act like a selfish, demanding, inconsiderate fuckwit of a fetishist instead of the grateful husband you had every right to expect. Here’s what he doesn’t seem to understand: A wife who will indulge her husband in an extreme fetish is a rare treasure, a jewel, and any husband who abuses a treasure like you, WMH, by pushing her too far, too fast, or neglecting the basics, deserves to lose that treasure. While it sounds like you’ve been enjoying the voyeur thing too–I believe you mentioned some HOT, HOT, HOT sex–it’s time to inform your husband, if you haven’t already, that you’re dangerously close to going sour on his fantasies. Your husband can’t ask you to indulge his voyeur thing in ways that make you feel unsafe or put you at risk of being sexually assaulted by all the pizza guys in town. Nor can he neglect the basics. So slam on the brakes, WMH. Tell your husband that the voyeur thing is on hold until you two come to terms about where, how, and how often you’ll indulge him. I have some suggestions, but first I’d like to directly address your husband: You are a fucking dumb asshole, do you know that? It’s shitbrained freaks like you who ruin it for all the other kinky straight men out there! The number-one reason cited by women who are reluctant to indulge their male partners’ kinks is the fear that they’re stepping onto a slippery slope. They worry that their husbands and boyfriends, once indulged, will be unwilling or unable to enjoy plain ol’ vanilla sex ever again–AKA “the basics.” Kinky guys who are lucky enough to find themselves dating or married to GGG women should be considerate, loving, and non-basics-neglecting, so that their wives and girlfriends will talk up the benefits of being GGG to their female friends, thereby increasing the supply of GGG women in the world. When a kinky guy acts like you, fuckhead, it decreases the number of GGG women in the world! Christ! Okay, WMH, back to you: You shouldn’t go to your own door in daisy dukes or thongs–that’s what hotel-room doors are for. No one has ever been arrested for opening her hotel-room door in her underwear (it’s technically a bedroom, right?), so hotels are an excellent option for indulging your husband’s more extreme fantasies. Most bellmen can’t be shocked, and if you tip ’em well they won’t care what you’re wearing. As for the home games, your husband has to stop hiding without warning you first. It simply isn’t fair for him to ask you to always feel uncomfortable when you’re alone in your own home. And as for the basics? A good rule of thumb for the indulged fetishist is three basic sessions for every fetish session. If he’ll agree to all that, tell him the voyeur thing is back on. If he won’t, well, tell him he’s fucked himself out of a very good deal. Here’s my issue. My fetish/fantasy involves my girlfriend coming home from a long day at work, kicking off her shoes, putting her stockinged feet on my lap, and demanding a foot massage. She can watch TV, she can read the newspaper while I do this, whatever. More often than not, I am turned down by the girl. “My feet are too sweaty.” “I’m ticklish.” “Are you crazy?” Is my fetish such a horrible thing? It’s not like I’m asking to lick their feet! I don’t want to be naked and collared. I just want to give a massage. I was thinking about taking out an ad in the personals. Two problems: If I mention my mild fetish in my ad, I might come off sounding like a weird foot guy. If I don’t mention it, I might meet a great girl who hates having her feet rubbed. I can’t just erase this fantasy in my head. A breast guy couldn’t date a flat-chested girl, nor could a girl who loves a man with a thick head of hair date a bald guy. Am I horrible for judging a potential girlfriend on the basis of whether or not she likes foot massages? Foot-Massage Freak Of course not, FMF. If you can’t judge your lovers by their willingness to meet your sexual needs, what fucking standard can you judge them by? And as fetishes go, a thing for being ordered to massage a woman’s feet hardly registers on the freak-o-meter at all. Continue to be upfront and honest, FMF, and sooner or later you’ll meet a woman who’s either GGG on the compulsory foot-massage issue, or actually enjoys having her feet rubbed. And just in case WMH’s husband is still reading this, I’d like to point out that FMF has assholes like you to thank for the difficult time he’s been having. No doubt some of the women FMF shared his fetish with have heard horror stories from women like WMH, i.e., women who indulged kinky boyfriends or husbands and watched them turn into monsters. Some of the women FMF shared his fetish with may worry that, like your wife, they may find themselves sliding down a slippery slope if they order him to massage their feet. Again, it’s selfish fetishists like you who ruin it for everybody. I hope you can sleep at night. [email protected]