Getting into hi-viz construction gear
Story by: PIGtures
Photography by: PIGtures
January 15, 2020
In the world of male fetish, there are a number of masculine archetypes that we find sexually attractive. Some are crafted for and by us, like your BLUF guys and rubbermen. Others are inspired by rebellious subcultures (think punks and skinheads). And then there are the ones rooted in masculine professions, such as police officers and firemen. For me, what connects these (at least in many of my hottest fantasies) is a kind of strength and attitude that is unique to each persona. Another rising persona in Europe is that of the highvisibility workman (hi-viz workie, or just workie, for short). For anyone who’s ever fetishized blue-collar guys such as mechanics and miners, the idea of a strong working-class lad laboring hard in tough conditions, clothing stained with weeks of sweat, and maybe even with a cigarette and beer in hand, should not be an unfamiliar turn-on.
“It is this kind of hard wilderness that might turn you the fuck on.”
There is a certain kind of gear that they are often seen wearing, which has caused me to set aside some of the more conventional pieces of my kink wardrobe in favor of something a little bit rougher, a little bit dirtier, a little bit more authentic and a lot more…hi-viz. And there’s a good reason why.
My perfect image of a workie is a 36-year-old man with the sexiest tough boy name you can imagine (mine, personally, is named Sam). He grew up in a rough part of town, and he’s been shouting over machinery at work for the last 16 years, so his way of speaking is much much coarser than a man of the same age, who has been sitting in a climate-controlled office day in, day out. His long hours of hard work over the years have hardened him, and prolonged companionship with his workmates means he doesn’t care for your opinion about how much he drinks, burps, smokes, or even farts in front of you. You might find his habits oddly charming or endearing. When he smiles that dirty smile, you reckon he might be a pig. Well—spoiler alert—he is one!
“I was so in awe of these guys and inspired by the wholesomeness of their masculinity that I had to find a way to feel that energy myself.“
It is this kind of hard wilderness that might turn you the fuck on. He is real, hot, and nasty as fuck. The lines around his eyes and the faded edges of some of his questionably chosen tats tell you his life story. For middle-class blokes like myself, it’s easy to be detached from a feeling of manliness. Assembling Ikea furniture is as hands-on as it gets for some of us guys out there. So, when I stand there on the corner of a construction site, looking at a greasy hi-viz stud of a man (who I hope is named Sam), I conclude from his calloused hands and worn boots that he has likely been submerged in masculinity since the day he was born.
I was so in awe of these guys and inspired by the wholesomeness of their masculinity that I had to find a way to feel that energy myself. That’s how my hi-viz fetish was born.
The first couple of items I owned were a pair of soiled hi-viz yellow work trousers and a vest. They were given to me by a pervert friend who enjoys collecting gear from operational train yards. I’ve since added various pieces to my collection from sexy German workwear brands like Dassy, Planam, and Engelbert Strauss.
When I’m getting ready to go out wearing it all, I put it on in front of a mirror. I start with a jock and socks, then my filthy yellow trousers. Next, I put on my boots and tuck the bottom of my trousers into them. I feel my dick begin to solidify as I pull the laces tight and the leather folds of my boots crush the reflective bands of the trousers into place around my ankles.
The person looking back at me in the mirror is no longer the cute manga cub that I normally see myself as, but a hard workie lad who’s just had to take his shirt off in the heat of a backbreaking hard day.
“It answers the grunty desires and rough dreams of a boy who never worked on a construction site or got a job cleaning sludge out of sewers.”
I might put on my bulky hi-viz jacket. The extra weight makes me feel even more domineering. Afterwards, I slide on my rubber-coated work gloves; the increased grip fills me with the need to grab hold of someone forcefully. Before I know it, I’ve turned into the Dom top of my nightmares and all I can do is jerk off to the thought of facefucking a sub, who is hopelessly bound by cable ties to a fence, to the point where he passes out from a lack of xygen.“Take that u fucking little cunt boi!” I bellow in a rough East London accent. I have to make an effort to stop wanking or risk losing all horny potential for the night ahead.
This person isn’t the Sam of my dreams but someone much worse, much harder. “Mick” has taken over. He’s an arrogant and sadistic top who only cares about fulfilling his needs. I detach from the relaxed, passive boy I was before to become the rough, hard-as-nails gobshite bastard who lives deep down inside of me…and it feels amazing.
You want to know why I love hi-viz? It answers the grunty desires and rough dreams of a boy who never worked on a construction site or got a job cleaning sludge out of sewers. When I look in the mirror at this hi-viz version of myself though, with a dick as hard as a tire iron, I see Mick, an authentic workie pig, and he looks fucking hot. The end.
