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FetScene – A Local Fetlife Love Story

Fet SceneTo those of you who have not yet heard of Fetlife, it is a rapidly-growing social networking site launched a few years ago by a kinky Canadian that has taken the fetish dating scene by storm.  Not only is it a place to meet other kinky people, but it is also filled with tons of forums and information on BDSM and D/s relationships.  For those of us who are simply far too kinky or unorthodox to find potential mates or play partners in the vanilla world, this free and diverse site offers hope that we might yet find our perfect kinky soul mate.  In fact, this is just what happened to me.

This, my friends, is not a story about kink, sex, or deviance.  God knows I do love to write about such wicked things.  This story, however, is about love.  It is a true, real-life, old-fashioned love story, even if it was born of a connection made on the aforementioned kinky website.

When I first saw her profile, of course I was captivated by her pictures therein.  With the face of an angel and the body of a centerfold, it was impossible not to be smitten with her obvious physical beauty.  Yet, such websites are full of photos of hot girls who are either fakes or phonies, or who are only beautiful on the outside.

Then I looked deeper.  I read the words she wrote.  Beautiful, magnificent words about her own personal quest for true love, unconditional love and acceptance, for a connection far deeper than just a sexual one.  Indeed I read of a heart, like my own, longing for an emotional, spiritual, even metaphysical love, the kind of which the poets laud and lament throughout the ages.  Now indeed was I hooked.

From our first email exchange, I knew she was different.  Her kinks and sexual charms were obvious, but we spoke only of love and the true meaning of life and happiness.  Not only was she spiritual, she was brilliant.  When she trusted me enough to speak on the phone, the next revelation was equally magnificent:  Her voice was indeed angelic, the softest, sweetest and most lyrical intonations ever to resonate in my ear.

After little more than two weeks of such soul-stripping, honest and pure communication, there was absolutely no doubt in either of our hearts.  Indeed we were in love.  The fact that she lived some eight-hundred miles away mattered not.  We had to meet, and we had to be together, no matter what the odds, costs or what the nay-sayers might think.

I bought her a plane ticket to Atlanta.  She packed a bag containing nothing more than a couple of outfits and a boat-load of faith.  I wasn’t one-hundred percent certain she would come.  Her risks were enormous.  I couldn’t have blamed her if she changed her mind.  She didn’t, however, so I sped frantically to Hartsfield International Airport to meet her.

Picking her out of the crowd was as easy as spotting an original Monet or Van Gough in a gallery full of paint-by-number kits.  Her magnificence was a hundred-fold greater in person.  It was undeniable.  I felt my body levitate above the ground as we embraced and kissed for the first time.  Everything was as we both had hoped it would be—only better.

Instantly we knew we could not be apart for the rest of our lives.  We knew that we must be sealed and conjoined together for eternity.  And we knew we couldn’t wait.  We were all things to one another:  Master/slave, Dominant/submissive, Daddy/daughter, Teacher/pupil, and best friends.  We spoke of an elaborate and sacred collaring ceremony that would be planned and performed in my dungeon in the upcoming months.  But we also knew that we wanted to be sealed together, that we HAD to be bound together then and there.  Thus we planned our wedding.

In the next twenty-four hours, we made love, found the perfect wedding gown, a suit for me, wedding bands, flowers, rhinestone jewelry, and perfect wedding chapel in the famed elopement destination Ringgold, Georgia.  In that very chapel, the very day after she landed in Atlanta, and in my waiting arms, she walked down the aisle looking like a bride who had planned this moment for years, not hours.  In the presence of only ourselves, the Great Creator of the Universe, and several sweet and dear ladies who ran the little chapel, we read our own personal vows, as we were both overcome with tears of joy, and the perfect beauty of the moment.  Legally, now we were one, as we had already become in spirit and heart.

Each and every day henceforth brings only new ways and opportunities for me to love her more deeply and completely.  Every revelation intoxicates and enthralls me.  Every embrace transports me to an astral plane, as time stands still, and the world around us disappears.

We cannot know the future, or its methods of unfolding.  We do know this, however.  Love is our fetish.  Trust and faith are our ropes and shackles.  Light and truth are our whips and floggers.  It is my greatest and most sincere hope that everyone find his or her own perfect counterpart, kinky or vanilla.  We have a lifetime ahead to explore our kinks, but our love couldn’t wait.  Love came first.  And we’ll never let it go.

Brent Bomber


4/15/11  Insomnia Late Night Play Party at Studio Eris
4/16/11  Whippersnappers at 1763
4/21/11  Gwinnett Munch
4/22/11  Insomnia Late Night Play Party at Studio Eris
4/23/11  Whimper Munch and Party at 1763
4/29/11  Flesh and Fetish Ball at Studio Eris

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