Writing about myself has never come naturally to me. Selling yourself and telling other people how great or employable you are has always produced a cold, writhing chill in my stomach. But that's the world we live in now; you have to sell yourself at all times. Whether it's a job application, Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn, your Grindr profile, your Recon…We're now expected to be the best version of ourselves. Our most accomplished, most successful, creative, talented, sexiest versions of us. Its fucking exhausting.
I come from a drawing and painting background. At school I was always one of the best at art and enjoyed a small amount of praise and attention because of it. For a fat acne ridden gay kid that was quite a big deal. The logical step at 18 was to go on to study art at university. I did my Foundation Diploma in Art & Design and then went on to study Theatre & Visual Arts in Brighton. That experience I wouldn't trade for the world. I met so many creative and kind souls, and I got to create work and be a part of projects that were so wonderful and bizarre. As much as I loved that experience, I went through what so many do studying art; I grew intimidated by the other artists around me. Every creative decision had to be justified, explained, referenced. What do I want to say as an artist? What's my chosen medium? How are YOU going to change the way we view the world? At 22 I had absolutely no clue.
I stopped drawing, painting and performing in the years following graduation. The blank page was too scary. I wasn't good enough to put something to paper. I had nothing to say. So, my 20s were spent being a retail boy, a good one at that. I naturally had a talent for visual merchandising, so I was always able to carve out a creative niche for myself at any shop I worked at. Like so many of us it was in these years that I really started to explore my sexuality.
A size queen was probably the best way to describe me for a very long time. I really cared very little about looks, physique, god even personality…if you were packing, I was interested! A love of big dicks is hardly ground-breaking, but I did wonder what it was that excited me so much. At this time, I really couldn't have given you an explanation. Alas there's only so big a dick can go and so my internet searches turned to 'extreme penetration'. A world of huge toys, fisting, elbow deep, double penetration, gapes and rosebuds unfolded before me. Feelings of shock, horror, disgust but most importantly intrigue started to form.
In 2016 I had a Grindr hook up on his way over. Cute, bit older, big dick. I would still have classed myself as completely vanilla at this time. On his way over I asked him what he wanted to do. He replied "You to double fist me" …I laughed it off. He came over, after some small talk he sat on my bed and unpacked his sizeable backpack. Out came gloves, lube, multiple toys. I suppose I'm quite an inherently polite person because I never stopped to question what was happening. I didn't want to cause offence or make him uncomfortable. I put a towel down, put the gloves on, lubed up, he flung his legs into the air and I dived in. As a lifelong bottom I had never experienced what it was like to give someone true sexual satisfaction. Sure, guys liked my (now infamous big butt) but no one was writhing in ecstasy after penetrating me… to the best of my knowledge at least. This guy was panting, moaning, screaming, begging me for more, for wider, for deeper. One hand certainly wasn't going to do the job, so both went in. I was giving him a feeling of absolute sexual satisfaction. And I loved it. I felt powerful, I felt sexy, I felt skilled and I felt intimacy. 10 years of internet hook ups had never given me this feeling. At the time I had mirrored wardrobes and I looked up to catch a glimpse of the scene that was unfolding. Looking back at me was equal parts beautiful and ridiculous. That feeling has never left me with fisting. It's wonderful and sexy and intimate but it is also equally funny and ridiculous to behold.
In the following years my interest in fisting both as top and a bottom expanded. I created a Recon profile and began to connect with a few fisters across London. At the same time, I decided to make visual merchandising my full-time career. In 2018 I went back to college to study and did everything in my power to network and gain experience in the company I was working with at the time. The result was utter failure. I excelled in my course but still no one wanted to hire me. Eventually I found a merchandising job with a high street fashion retailer. I lasted three weeks. Everything I did was wrong, no one wanted to train me, no one wanted to know me. It led very rapidly to a steep decline in my mental health and some really dark days. I felt a failure. I wasn't creative, I wasn't artistic. I wasn't successful. I was nothing.
2019 was about putting myself back together again. I started working at a sex shop in Soho and for the first time in my life I really had nothing to lose. I made a twitter account and started posting pictures of myself, my arse, my hole. It made me feel better about myself. I was lucky enough to be working alongside a very talented illustrator at this time. Unlike me, he never went on to study art at university. He had always stuck to what he enjoyed creatively, he drew what excited him using digital art, and over the years had carved out a career for himself. It was such a lightbulb moment - draw what you love, draw what you know.
I invested in an iPad and some digital art software. I started with very a basic sketch of one of the internet's most well-known fisting bottoms - Punched93. The drawing was crude, lacked detail, depth (far from my finest work). I posted it to Twitter tagging him in it. My heart sank, I thought it would either go completely unrecognised, berated, or if he took notice, he would ask to have it removed. He replied. He loved it - "I want it on a t-shirt!". So, I kept going, more of him, more of other fisters I looked up to, other kinksters. I wondered what it was that was capturing people's attention - it couldn't just be the subject matter. There are plenty of artists exploring fisting and fetish. What I always wanted to convey with my kink drawings is a sense of fun. From that first fisting experience and appreciating the absurdity of what I was doing, I've always remembered that this is FUN! My artwork tries to express that. It's not dark or depraved, its colourful, vibrant and silly. I think that's what people connect with.
My fetish and my artwork immediately became entwined together. People over the globe wrote to me to say how much they enjoyed my work, some requesting commissions. And others, through drawing them, we started a dialogue with one another - made plans to meet and play. The kink inspired the artwork and the artwork inspired the kink. I still feel very much at the infancy of my journey through Fetish Art. So much to learn and explore. Both in kink and creativity.
I suppose what I want people to take away from this story is that you are good enough. I wasn't good enough for a very long time, I could still be much better. But this FFamily saved me. It gave me a purpose, and a unique perspective of the community I could share with the world online. It made me feel sexy, creative and that I deserve to be happy.
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