Fisting is freedom.
Fisting is intimacy.
Fisting is political.

On May 5, we celebrate International Fisting Day - a day we created for visibility, education and queer self-determination.

In a world that often still attaches stigma to sexual diversity, May 5 is more than just a date on the calendar. It is a day on which we say: Our bodies belong to us. Our desire is valid. Our practice deserves respect - and space.

International Fisting Day stands for radical self-empowerment, consensus, community and a queer culture of openness. We invite you: to explore, to join in the conversation, to celebrate.

This website is a place for stories, education, events and sharing. Whether you are curious or experienced, skeptical or enthusiastic - here you will find content that informs, connects and inspires. Because fisting is more than just a practice. It is an expression of intimacy and rebellion at the same time.

MAY 5TH IS THE INTERNATIONAL DAY OF FISTING

Voices from the community

  • Daniel (36, Berlin): Trust is my language of pleasure

    "I never had the body that others found sexy. In the scene, I often only felt halfway there. It wasn't until I was fisted for the first time - really fisted, not just technically fisted - that I understood what devotion is. It's not about penetration. It's about giving space. Holding space. I found something in that depth that I hadn't had with any other sex before: trust that doesn't ask if I'm enough."

  • Amina (42, Rotterdam): My body belongs to me - not even in the clinic

    "I am intersex and had surgery as a child. Nobody asked what I wanted. It took decades before I could feel my body again. Fisting was the way back for me. Not as a re-enactment, but as control. As re-appropriation. I decide how far. I say when it's over. That's not kink for me. That's my no. And my yes."

  • Lucas (27, São Paulo): I needed touch, not performance

    "I grew up with the image that sex always has to be hard, fast and horny. Fisting has changed my whole understanding of closeness. There's no rush. No 'come now'. It's like a silent dance. Like meditation. My boyfriend always says: Your opening is a gift. I don't think he just means that physically."

  • Mirek (50, Prague): Between leather, club and church

    "I tried to pray away my sexuality for decades. I was a priest. And I was unhappy. In my early 40s, I got into a leather scene where I was seen for the first time. There was pride. There was desire. There was fisting - not as excess, but as a ritual. Today I'm no longer in the church. But I believe in something bigger than ever."

  • Jerome (31, Marseille): I wanted to feel that I was alive

    "I was depressed. For a long time. And empty. My body felt disconnected from everything that actually makes me who I am. I had put myself back together in therapy, but I couldn't feel anything. It was only through fisting with my partner - slowly, deliberately, in complete safety - that life came back. It was raw, but it was real. For the first time, I felt like I had arrived in my body."

  • Kyle (25, Toronto): Fisting taught me to say no

    "I always thought that if you're into fisting, you have to be open to everything. But I've been pushing my boundaries for years - even emotionally. I learned how to live consent properly in a workshop. Everything changed after that. Fisting is no longer the goal for me, but the process. And sometimes this process means: I just hold your hand. And that's enough."