Visiting Steamworks, I was in the middle of a feeding frenzy. Correction: I was part of a feeding frenzy. I entered into the bathhouse an attention glutton and I left with my belly full and content. I imagine the same was true for the other fetishists on board. The foot freaks had free and unlimited access to my feet. The voyeurs got to watch me perform several sex acts. Vorarephiliacs got a chance to nibble on my flesh. In exchange for my satisfaction, I imagine, I aided in the fulfillment of others. I find that quite beautiful.
Watching men return to their lockers and pull up their slacks...button up their shirts...fasten their watches, I realized these are regular men. No visible signs of perversity. Sliding my glasses on my face, I also saw that no one would suspect my own dark needs. Attending work the next day, the evidence of cock was cleansed from my lips. Walking among the outside world, my stride is unbroken by yesterday's reaming. Only a psychic could see the appetites returning...or someone with similar proclivities.
Did I catch a glimpse of what lurks within the everyman? The need to touch. The need to feel. The need to consume and be consumed. To need to be destroyed. The need to be built up. I must admit, it is hard to see people the same since my trip to Downtown Sodom.
Have a membership to the same shadows...
What they do with it is up to them
Something is being done
|"Fellatio Fair" by Alessandro Bavari|