“I’m a…crab!” The girl who is always drunk was dying at her own joke.
“Well I’m half-person half-horse!” Ah, dressing room astrology-talk.
“You’re a centaur.”
“What the fuck is a sen tar?” It seemed like she couldn’t decide if it was rude of me to call her a sen tar.
“A mythical horse man thingy. I’m pretty sure it’s the same as a Sagittarius.” It sounded weird coming out of my mouth. Yeah, what the fuck is a centaur? Am I thinking of a satyr?
“A CENTAUR! You never watch Xena?! Shiiit.” Well, at least someone knew what a centaur was.
The next day I remembered to look at the Wikipedia entry. Something about all those pectoral muscles and sex expressions drove me to google “sexy centaur.” Ah yes, it seems centaurs (and their female equivalents, Kentaurides) have been trotting through human masturbation scenarios long before the Old Spice commercials. Duh. Why wouldn’t there be a fetish for those sexy beasts? I present to you a new T&S feature: If you can think of it, there’s a fetish for it. And what is a fetish without fan art?
Email email@example.com and tell us about your fetish(es) or clients’ fetishes. Fan art welcome!
My ex-roommate used to work as a prostitute and she would tell me some crazy fetish stories. One that really stands out to me is a regular who used to dress up like a bunny and hop around on the floor. The only thing he wanted her to do was pet him and tell him that he was a bunny. He would say, “Tell me I’m a bunny.” She would be like, “What a cute bunny.”