Thanks To 
If I’m asked to recall the happiest moments in my life many initial memories pop into my head. My first kiss, my graduation or even that time I came hands-free while strapped in rubber bondage… But a time which always sticks out from the rest is my time spent at the Folsom Street Fair.
For years, I had dreamed of it. Under my covers with a phone in one hand (and dick in the other) I would gaze wondrously at photos of hot muscular men, sexy leather daddies and adorable rubber pups no longer posing in bedrooms or playrooms.
No! These kinksters were out & about surrounded by fellow fetish brethren! A sea of shiny rubber and leather bodies painted a seemingly average, everyday street. But, this street was far from average – it was a very special street and one magical day I was lucky enough to visit it. This is my Folsom story:
As we neared our destination, the air around us seemed to change. The scent of industrial materials, specifically rubber & leather, filled the streets. In the distance, I could make out a blockade followed by hundreds and maybe even thousands of pigs, pups and perverts. My mind was in overdrive as I physically began to hop on the spot. Dressed in my finest rubber apparel, the scent seemed to grow stronger as the noise from the fair could be heard louder now. I could sense the same excitement resonated with everyone in my group as we neared the entrance to the fair.
The sun beamed down against my lubed, rubber chest (probably blinding any poor on-lookers). My rubber skin pretty much summed up how I was feeling at that moment…… radiating! Crossing the final intersection we arrived at the entryway to the fair. I was surprised by how open the fair was. Coming from a world of kink being secluded from the “normies”, I expected large unwelcoming barriers. Instead, there were no patricians just a simple decorated entryway. This signified the beginning of the happiest place on earth Folsom Berlin.
Dozens of strangers passed by as I stood, staring in awe, at the mass of people directly in front of me. It was like a page from Where’s Wally only everyone was Wally! Reflective rubber in all colours, shapes and sizes could be seen from every angle. At one point I even spotted a full rubber police horse. Everyone here looked to be the main character in their sci-fi show. The thundering roar of the crowd signified the strength of this community and how proud every individual felt there. After my star-stricken moment, I passed through the greeting passageway before making my journey further into the fair.
Stalls lined the street selling all types of exclusive fetish merchandise with one store specialising in metal belt chastity cages. Peeking inside the tent I could see a line of rubber pups & subs waiting to have theirs fitted. I wondered to myself if maybe the stall kept the keys!
Gazing beyond the branded stands, the street looked very much like any average continental European laneway. Building arches and doorways were decorated with gimps, daddies and Sirs as they rested from the sunshine beaming down. Apartment windows were ajar with neighbourhood onlookers gazing out at the fair. I wondered how they felt about Folsom coming to their seemingly quiet, average street every year.
Moving through more of the stalls, I noticed a few bondage demonstrations and slave displays. A leather-harnessed man was chained up in a standing cage while another was being flogged on St. Andrew’s cross. My penis was certainly excited to see such a sight. My freedom was sadly lost when a friend later locked up my appendage in a metal chastity device. I whimpered as he locked me up in the middle of the street! Many onlookers made the cage feel even tighter as I sank to my knees to thank the boots that lay in front of me.
While on said knees I was rewarded with many pets and left to sink into headspace. This is when I began to zone out a little. Some might call it bliss or maybe even a weird kind of yoga. I just call it the fuzzy zone. After all my late-night bedroom stalking, I was finally here at the place where fetish dreams come true. The roar of the crowd returned as I felt it down in my core. The thunder of strength – not in numbers – but strength in passion and pride. Just like the power keeping me on my knees for a Sir, only amplified and projected throughout this wonderful street.
Pulling me from my introspective state, I was permitted to rise back up and stand on two feet. My group moved to a spot in the centre of an intersection meaning a constant flow of kinksters weaved their way through us. This was certainly the perfect people-watching spot as I caught sight of more jaw-dropping outfits like a rubber stormtrooper, Canadian troopers and even a distressed-looking mother shielding her child’s eyes.
To any normal person saying the name of this street would mean little to nothing. However, to a horny sex dog the name ‘fuggerstraße’ means something very important. It may not exactly be the happiest place on earth but it’s certainly a start.
To find out more about FolsomEU visit their website.
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