June 29th I went up to the L.A. Eagle with Sir Dino and boy Jr. to attend the Mr. Eagle Rubber contest. When we arrived, we were generously granted entry with no cover due to being titleholders. I really appreciate that treatment, it makes me feel amazing and I don't expect it at all so when it happens it's a pleasant surprise.
I put on my gas mask that I had just purchased from Fort Troff, and we headed inside and began to mingle. A mentor of mine had given me an impromptu training session in boy behavior earlier that week in preparation for the Internationals contest that loomed ahead, and remembering his lesson, I fell into boy protocol. Hands behind my back, stood up straight, chest out, and I fell into step behind Sir Dino's left side. At first it felt fine, I felt anonymous under my gas mask. If it weren't for my title vest and medal I probably would have melted into the crowd and vanished from memory, becoming no one more than "that guy in the gas mask".
Sir Dino found someone to talk to, and Jr. and I stood at the ready as they talked. They kept chatting and I quickly grew bored. There weren't many men in the bar yet, no one I knew was within sight. Thankfully we moved on into the bar and met up with my mentor, we were in a narrow part of the bar so I stood to the side to allow people to pass through, he tried to position me to Sir Dino's left, which would put me in the middle of the walkway. I told him I didn't want to block the passage, he said "I shouldn't give a damn about it."
Was this really Orthodox Old Guard boy behavior? If it meant being rude to others via selfishness I didn't want any part of it. I'm sure it wasn't like that, but he was sure making it seem like it was. When we went outside again, I completely abandoned the entire "Old Guard boy" role, and decided that I'll just be who I already was. The mask of the boy didn't fit me as my mentor made it out to be. He soon found us again, and tried to put my hands behind my back. I refused to comply, took off my gas mask and told him that I appreciated what he was trying to do for me, but it didn't feel honest to who I was, and that I was going to be myself. He said "It's up to your Master." and walked off.
I don't have a Master. I don't have a Sir. I never did. I have no collar. I am no slave and do not possess that kind of personality. Dino is my title Sir, but it all ends at the medallion and the back patch. I often dream of being a boy to a wonderful leather Sir one day. Wearing a real collar, serving a real man in a leather jacket, a man who would have me lick his boot and use me as his footrest at the bars, a man who would tie me to the wall and bring me to the point of tears of joy as I begged him to ravage my body for his pleasure.
I finally was able to meet a few handsome men off of Recon at the bar, Joseph, his friends Chris and Dane as well as a few of my friends around the bar. I saw my friend Robert who told me that he had assumed control of a play prison out somewhere, he was surprisingly dominant that night. The idea was fun, being carted off to a sex prison, incarcerated as a fetish, I may give it a whirl!
Joseph and I really hit it off, he's absolutely adorable, and so sexy in his rubber gear! The contest itself was fun as well, the three contestants were Ricklit, Pup ZigZag, and Doug. Doug was incredibly cute, and Ricklit really gave it his all again! He's not going to stop until he makes a titleholder of himself, his persistence is admirable! During the contest he had a mad scientist theme going with one of the events, and it was really well done.
Through the night I loved on Joseph, and really enjoyed his company for a beautiful few hours. His friend Chris was also very enjoyable as well, and he was lovey too. Both gentlemen are incredibly hot and I'm thankful I could have met them that night. After the contest had ended Sir Dino wanted to head out, he rode over to the Yoshinoya across the street from the Faultline where we had a late night dinner. It was there that I found a cockroach dying on the floor in the middle of the room. I let the cashier know about it, but she didn't seem very interested in the information, and she took her time in cleaning up the corpse on the floor. I named him Harry.
On our way out, I had been making eyes at a cute young man sitting by himself at a table adjacent to us, so I plucked a business card with my blog address on it from my wallet and slipped it on his table next to his tray. I wonder if he took it, because I certainly hope he likes bedtime reading!
Play Safe dear reader.
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