In the 80′s and 90′s, professional mistresses and the submissive males who sought out sessions with them, enjoyed a practically unfettered ability to indulge in their shared fetishes. But, thanks to empowerment of the Christian right, these activities have been driven underground. When it was once as easy as looking in the classified section of the Columbus Dispatch to find a professional mistress, the same mistresses who once advertised there now only see clients who they have had for years.

One would think law enforcement would have better things to do with their time and resources than to focus their attention on consenting adults who are engaged in a business transaction for the mutual fetish benefit of both parties. There are submissive men who just want to worship a dominant womans feet, have her sit her fully clothed ass on their face, or suck on their rubber strap-on – all victimless and harmless activities that are conducted behind closed hotel room doors. I know that hotel room tax revenue has had to decrease since the crackdown on Ohio fetish activities.

Pretty soon, the entire State of Ohio will zone adult bookstores out of business. You’ll have to catch a boat in Cleveland and troll out into Lake Erie until you reach the Canadian boundry line to purchase your shemale movies, butt plugs, vibrators, and crotchless panties off of the Adult Toy Boat floating in international waters.

When I first saw Julia, I was immediately drawn to her incredibly high arches. On the whole, she was a goddess. When she entered a room, she was the center of attention. She was graceful, feminine and alluring. And despite her coal black hair and pouty red lips that everyone adored, I was still drawn to her silk stockings and her edible arches.

I pursued Julia, but I was not the confident man around her that I normally was. I struggled to find engaging conversation when I was in her presence, and I always felt that she held the advantage in all of our interactions. I had never been in a relationship with someone of Julia’s beauty, and based upon my stumbling performance during our last meeting, I’m almost assured of never being romantically involved with her in the future.

I’ll be content to watch her walk in and out of my life thanks to our mutual friends. I’ll go home and fantasize about being at her delicate feet, licking her shoes clean and whorshipping her stocking feet. I know that if I ever was to find myself at her feet that she act as if I wasn’t even there using my tongue to clean the dirt from the soles of her shoes. I’d give anything for the chance to nibble on that perfect nylon encased arch of hers.