This is a story about a really strange fetish. Most people will not be able to relate to it. Maybe a few will and maybe they will even get aroused by it. There are very few of us who share this fetish.
The other day, I was browsing my favorite fetish blog. A came across an ad that caught my attention. It said, "I am a professional dominatrix, named Phoenix and I am interested in strange fetishes. Not the usual stuff, like feet, latex, leather etc., but really strange ones that only you seem to have. If you think you engage in something really unusual, please send me a short description of it."
I was intrigued and wrote back to her.
"I definitely have a very strange fetish. I become aroused by the touch of newspaper on my naked skin. I find the smell of a fresh, crisply folded newspaper intoxicating. I wrap my head in them, sleep in my bed covered with newspapers, wrap one around my cock and masturbate with newspaper, I beat myself with them in the face, and I hit my genitals with them, in short, I'm in love with them. But I like only broadsheets, ideally the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal. I always have had this fetish and I have no idea where it comes from."
The next day, I got a reply.
"Dear Frank, your fetish does sound very unusual and exciting and I would love to explore it with you. Every other week, I host a get-together at my dungeon where we explore unusual fetishes. We would love to have you. If you agree, you have to be comfortable exploring your fetish in front of a small audience, ten, twelve people or so. We also record the session since I need a record of it for my research. Please let me know. The next session is next week on Friday at 8 pm."
I didn't have to think about it. Exposing my fetish to the world and watching people react to it, just the thought of it made me hard. I agreed.
"Excellent, please bring your own newspapers and bring a lot of them, so that we can explore several scenarios. What is your pain tolerance and how do you feel about being urinated on?"
I replied that my pain tolerance was quite high and though I had never been urinated on I would be happy to give it a try. Mistress Phoenix sent me her address and the following Friday, I arrived at her dungeon.
It was in the basement of a brick building. I discreetly knocked on the door. Mistress Phoenix, a stern-looking Amazon-like woman clad in leather opened the door and let me in.
The dungeon looked like a medieval torture chamber: whips, chains, leather benches and racks everywhere. In the corner, chairs were lined up against the wall. There were about fifteen people of all ages, both men and women milling around examining the various instruments. I put down my duffel bag full of crisp new copies of the New York Times.
"Please take your seats," Mistress Phoenix announced.
"Today, we have a special guest, Frank. He has a very unusual fetish. He is sexually aroused by the touch, feel, and smell of broadsheet newspapers. His favorite broadsheet is The New York Times. He also likes to be tortured with newspapers. Today, we will explore a few newspaper scenarios. We will videotape the session as always. Please give him a hand."
There was polite applause.
"Frank, please strip down to your underwear."
I slowly took off my clothes, fully aware of everybody staring at me. I am an athletic male in my early twenties, and I am proud of my body, so I had nothing to hide. There I was standing in my new designer underwear. Somebody in the audience whistled appreciatively.
Mistress Phoenix went to my duffel bag and took out a copy of the New York Times. She folded it once and started to caress my body with it, face, chest, thighs, and slightly brushing over my underwear. I felt my cock stirring and rising, straining against my underwear. The huge bulge was clearly visible.
"Very nice, Frank, please take off your underwear and show us your proud member."
I obeyed her command. I displayed 6.5 inches of rock-hard uncircumcised cock.
"Nice cock," a woman in the audience gasped.
"Can I touch it?"
"Later, we will have an interactive session, but not now," Mistress Phoenix replied.
"First, we will make him suffer a bit, after all, this is a dungeon."
She roughly grabbed my erect cock and dragged me over to two chains hanging from the ceiling. She put cuffs on my wrists and clipped one each to the two chains. She now bent down and strapped a spreader bar to my ankles. Then she pulled the chains tight. I was completely immobilized, legs far apart and arms apart and fully extended. She grabbed her newspaper again folded it twice and started spanking me on my butt, nipples, and back. It felt so good.
Then, SMACK, the paper hit me full force in the face again and again, I was near tears, but my cock seemed to be very happy. It was so engorged it almost hurt.
Mistress Phoenix put down the paper and fetched two leather straps. She unfolded the newspaper, wrapped it around my head, and secured it with the two leather straps, one around my forehead, the other around my mouth. She pulled the straps tighter and tighter. I was almost suffocating. What an incredible sensation, trouble breathing, not being able to see or know what to expect.
I screamed, a folded newspaper hit me in the genitals at full force and again, I thought my balls had disappeared into my stomach. Then, a playful light touch of my cock and balls. I heard Mistress Phoenix walking around me and SMACK, she hit my genitals from behind. I felt my hard cock slapping against my stomach. I was breathing hard. And SMACK again. A muffled scream behind the newspaper. I almost fainted, hanging limply on the chains. And yet strangely, I was still rock hard.