Am I a person or a fetish? A human or a thing?
Without leather leggings (as pictured) — not to mention the matching thong and demi-bra — do I even exist? Snug leather (once animal first-, now human second-skin) is not the only clothing fetish, of course.
Your basic bra-and-pantie set are enough to ignite intensely yearning desire in some men; real, alive women are not even needed to fill the undergarments; just to finger them and touch them is apparently sufficient. (The cum stains found on these garments afterwards attest to the validity of this not unscientific observation.)
So when I don a male admirer’s requested (and requisite) black mesh hose and garter belt and stiletto heels, I realize that what I have between my legs, so out of place on a real woman, is like a fetishized garment too. As much as the hose and the heels and garter, he wants my male genitals to be there — even if I do not.
If only I could unscrew them and take them off and place them gingerly in my lingerie chest when, satiated, he leaves….