Life as a Fetishist: My Obsession with Women in Boots and BDSM

I am a submissive man and a fetishist. I remember a conversation I had with a friend who knows about my inclinations. She said that I wasn’t really a fetishist but more of a boot enthusiast.

That got me thinking.

Boots and Submission: A Fetishist’s Journey into Obsession and BDSM

Indeed, I don’t collect boots or thigh-highs. I don’t have any of that in my closets, simply because it doesn’t bring me pleasure. I need a woman to wear those boots or thigh-highs for it to have an effect on me. However, when a woman wears high-heeled boots, it definitely has an effect on me, and it’s systematic.

I see it as a sort of addiction, an obsession that’s always present in me, ready to awaken at the slightest opportunity. It feels like something I can’t control—it’s almost instinctual. Over time, I’ve come to accept this part of my personality. But being a fetishist has its advantages and disadvantages, many disadvantages.

This inclination started very early for me, and as far as I can remember, it was almost a way of approaching sexuality in an unconventional way. I imagined rubbing against latex, vinyl, and leather outfits. Those were my first fantasies, my first experiences of arousal.

I quickly drifted toward BDSM, with submissive fantasies that soon centered on being “at the boot” of a woman, both physically and psychologically.

The Symbolism of Boots: Femininity, Authority, and Submission in BDSM

Boots represent, for me, a dual symbol of authority and femininity. Nowadays, few men wear boots, and even fewer with heels. So, for me, it’s a very feminine object, and at the same time, it’s clearly a symbol of superiority. You see this in equestrianism, which can be associated with an activity of a higher caste. The rider’s outfit is iconic in the BDSM world to represent a dominant woman—it goes with the whip and this notion of taming an animal. For a submissive like me, it’s just a small step to consider myself an animal that needs to be tamed.

Being “at the boot” of a woman means enduring the humiliation of feeling inferior, dominated, and submissive to her authority. That’s why the act of licking a woman’s boots when she orders it feels exhilarating. While licking, you experience a sense of shame, which is a delicious form of submission. There’s also a physical pleasure in running your tongue along the leather of a boot.

I should clarify that, in my case, the woman must “give the order.” We’re all different and experience our fantasies in unique ways. For me, there’s no pleasure if the woman doesn’t take pleasure in making me lick her boots. That’s also why licking boots on their own doesn’t do anything for me. The woman remains the key to my pleasure, particularly through her own enjoyment. She remains the central element of my fantasy—boots are just a very effective accessory, much like a whip or a riding crop.

The Brain of a Fetishist: How Obsession Turned Me into a Boot-Spotting Expert

What’s amusing about this kind of peculiarity is how it teaches you certain things about the brain. The first is how you become an expert at something: through obsession.
I’ve become, despite myself, incredibly good at spotting boots in all sorts of contexts—on the street, of course, in movies, or on television.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can spot a woman in boots from a certain distance. My reptilian brain has made spotting boots a top priority for detection. I think only danger ranks higher, and of course, food and water in times of scarcity. It’s become an automatic reflex, which, I’ll admit, sometimes annoys me a bit. I occasionally catch myself berating myself after focusing on a woman in boots. I tell myself it doesn’t matter, but my reptilian brain disagrees—and in this case, it’s the boss.

Spotting Beauty in Boots: A Fetishist’s Unconventional Lens on Attraction

Since my earliest childhood, I’ve been unintentionally training myself to spot boots around me, and I’ve become a true expert. I can even identify the type of woman who’s likely to wear boots that I’d like. For example, when I look at photos on a dating site, I linger on certain women not because I find them attractive but because I want to see other pictures of them where they might be wearing boots.
It’s fascinating, even if it doesn’t really serve much purpose in everyday life. And in case of an apocalypse, this “skill” won’t be of much use.

Another amusing peculiarity that reveals something about our relationship with beauty is that a woman becomes beautiful in my eyes the moment she wears nice boots. You could see it as an advantage or a disadvantage. It’s as superficial as any beauty standard, just unconventional. The fact is, I have two ways of judging a woman’s beauty in my eyes: with and without boots.

Navigating Obsession: The Challenges and Humor of a Boot Fetish in Relationships

One of the downsides of this kind of obsession is that it can be tiresome. I constantly have to watch my behavior when I’m with a woman because my reptilian brain will do anything to get a woman to wear boots. Of course, I’d never do anything reprehensible—I have the utmost respect for women, whose company I adore. Nevertheless, I do tend to steer conversations toward this topic, which can quickly become annoying. People have pointed it out to me several times, naturally. I’ve learned to control myself over time, but it’s unfortunately always on my mind.

To avoid unpleasant surprises, I talk about this “passion” for boots fairly early on with a partner (without mentioning BDSM), and most of the time, it’s not taken badly. Women know that men are visual. Above all, I think there are a lot of men who are boot fetishists—you just have to go online to see that.

It becomes amusing (and sometimes embarrassing) when my partners know about it and tease me about it. I remember once going into a shoe store with my partner during one of her shopping trips. That store had an incredible number of pairs of boots, each sexier than the last. I started blushing when I saw her amused look. She said I looked like a kid in a toy store—I didn’t know where to look.

Self-Reflection as a Fetishist: Acceptance, Control, and Understanding in a Boot-Centric World

I often ask myself questions.
Should I work on myself to get rid of this “passion”? Should I talk to a therapist about it?
That’s the big question. I’m aware that being a fetishist isn’t exactly “normal.” And that’s not even touching on my attraction to BDSM. Sometimes I wish my brain would focus on something else.
Fortunately, this doesn’t stop me from appreciating a woman who doesn’t wear boots. What’s important to a “vanilla” person is important to me too, especially since I’m a cerebral person. I need a connection beyond the physical with a woman.

Or, on the contrary, should I simply accept myself as I am?

A colleague once told me about a time on the bus when a man approached her and asked to kiss her ankle boots (not quite boots, but close enough). I told myself I’d never let myself do something like that. And I think it’s important to at least try to control yourself to a certain extent—I don’t want to come across as crazy or make a woman uncomfortable.

Being a fetishist is like an addiction. It’s hard to go without, you think about it often, and when you get the chance to indulge in it, the pleasure is intense. At least this addiction isn’t bad for your health.

What’s certain is that I’d never ask a woman to be lenient with me. She shouldn’t hesitate to tell me off when I get too annoying talking about it.

From my long experience as a fetishist, I’ve noticed that women tend to be quite understanding with me on this topic.
I thank them for that.