California Leather Sir, boy, Bootblack and Puppy 2012 Contest

My god, what a weekend.

Friday:

My good friend Dino picked me up in the afternoon and we headed down to San Diego, where we met up with my other friend Michael who was very generous to open his home to me for the weekend.  Dino and I quickly changed and headed back out to the VIP party held at Sir Tom's house.  We arrived fairly early and were of the first guests.  We met the judges, Tom Dickerson, Anthony Rollar (Mr. San Diego Leather 2010), Lance Holman (Mr. San Francisco Leather 2010), Rick Russel (Mr. Bolt Leather 2009), Karen Yew (Ms. San Diego leather 2004), Red Warrior (International Community Bootblack 2010), and Boy T.C. (Southern California Leatherboy 2007) the other contestants, Sam, Brit, Slutbottom Chris, and Zigzag, and our Den Daddy Anthony as well as Shawn (California Leather boy 2010). 

 After the party we all headed out to regroup at The Eagle bar where we mingled and greeted before Anthony urged us to get an early night for Saturday.  Following his advice, I went home with Michael and we went to bed.

 Saturday:

Michael drove me and my gear to Queen Bee's, and we met with Tom and the other contestants but the center was closed.  Unfortunately there must have been a miscommunication, so we headed over to a nearby diner and after a nice breakfast, compliments of Tom, we headed down to Pleasures and Treasures to prepare for our interviews and to practice our fantasy scenes.  The new location had just opened, so everything was crisp and new.  The store itself was very clean and well organized, plus the staff were so accommodating and friendly.  Dino and I went into the back utility room to practice the ideas of our fantasy scene, this year's theme was "Locker Room Fantasy" and Dino and I had been bouncing ideas off of each other.  It took about 15 minutes to get the main idea down, and we were ready.

When it came time to go in for my interview, I dressed in my cowboy boots, jeans, a white shirt with a gas masked duo by Luis Skobar, and my leather vest.  After walking upstairs and reaching the room partition, Lance asked me "Are you prepared for your interview?" to which my mind immediately hit the RESET button, and I looked to him and said, "Well I was before you asked that, Sir."

This interview was both similar and very different from my last interview for Mr. Long Beach Leather, the questions were more personal, I felt a lot of them made me really dig back in my head to frantically ferret out my answer.  One of which I was asked of Red Warrior, "What is the difference between a slave and a boy?"  my original answer was deflected and dissolved right before my ears, my logic was completely flawed and I had no answer to it.  I requested to rethink my answer and give it to her later, to which she agreed.  (Later I did find my answer, and returned it to her.)  As the interview went onward, the room was becoming slightly smaller, slightly warmer, I felt beads of sweat on my forehead, and I caught myself nearly crushing my own hands behind my back several times.  When it was finished, leaving the room was like opening the door to a sauna of anxiety, I began to tear up as the stress released itself from my chest and out my eyes.  Lunch was brought up, again donated generously by Tom, and I grabbed a plate.  However everyone seemed to choose that exact moment to introduce me to someone, or ask me a question pertaining to this or that.  I really, really just wanted to flush my head of all my stress and eat so badly at that one second.

After lunch, Shawn said we should have some boy-boy time together, talking about the contest and clearing up any concerns I had.  We walked from Pleasures and Treasures over to Queen Bee's, talking about how the contest emerged out of Drummer Magazine, and the history pertaining to it.

Arriving at Queen Bee's, I gathered my gear from Dino's car and was hurried backstage to set up.
Jagermeister had generously donated costumes for the opening number as a sponsor of the event. We were given hats, polos, wristbands and...really skimpy thongs.  I opened mine out of its plastic wrap and took a good look at it.  It was...very small.  I looked at Sam and Brit who were already wearing theirs, and then back at the front of mine.  It had glitter too.  I tried it on and was alarmed when it wouldn't go any higher.  I looked behind me and asked some friends of Chris "Is it supposed to just stop there?" I tried fanning out the rear as much as possible, Brit called over "Just yank it up! Accept it!".  Sam came over, and before I could react, did it for me.

I knew I had to be blushing, I had never worn a thong before, but then words echoed in my head from a conversation I had overheard earlier in the day.  "This is a player's contest, a leather man needs to feel comfortable in his own skin, if you don't feel comfortable in your own skin, then what are you doing here?"  I sucked it up and looked at myself again, I had to wear the thong anyway as part of the number, there was no going around that fact.  I needed to own it.  Then one of Chris' friends piped up.  "You have a great ass, and believe me I know a good ass when I see it."

Thank you!

Our Den Daddy Anthony and Boy Vince had set up boot blacking our many pairs of boots, bringing them to a beautiful sheen, thank you so much guys!  They came out great!  After a quick rehearsal of the opening number, we sat backstage and waited.  Up until that point I was fine, the contest wasn't bothering me at all, I was coasting gently through each hurdle as they appeared, and the other contestants didn't seem fazed either.  One thing was bothering me though.  The interview had left a grain of doubt in the folds of my brain and it was scratching the ever living hell out of my mind.

Now I forgot to mention, prior to this weekend I fell ill with a small cold.  I was so angry at it I did everything I could to stop it.  From drowning myself in orange juice, to sucking down zinc drop after zinc drop, to even looking at myself in the mirror and screaming "NUH-UH! NOT NOW! THIS IS MY HOUSE! YOU GET THE HELL OUT!"  It worked, as my cold dissolved within three days, however I did have what I think was a hallucination dream at one point, lots of colored shapes like jellybeans on a black background.  Before leaving me, the cold gave me whacked out dreams, hazed the line between reality and fantasy, stole my voice, and finally crawled into microscopic oblivion but not before cursing me with a lingering cough that is actually still plaguing me tonight.

Couple all of that with this grain of doubt that had now rubbed my mind and spirit raw, thankfully Dino came by and urged me to join him on a walk.  We walked across the street and sat down, we had a short heart-to-heart and I ended up breaking down in tears.  This was an enormous relief and left me with a serene numbness that I so badly needed.  I recalled the people who urged me to run, and reminded myself that they wouldn't have done so if they didn't think that I could do it, they wouldn't have done so if they didn't want me to do it.  When we made it back we sat down in the back patio and had a conversation with another titleholding leather man.  Unfortunately I could not recall his name, but he invited us to a play party for the 4th of July weekend.  Heading in, it was time to suit up and get ready.

We lined up in our Jagermeister gear first.  Hats, polos, wristbands, jeans, and boots.  Sam, Dino, myself, Brit, Chris, and Zigzag and walked out on stage.  Sam took the lead and descended the stairs, followed by Dino, then myself.  We walked out into the center of the audience and then curved around and back to the stage stairs where we ducked behind the curtain, ripped off our clothing as fast as possible to our boots and thongs, whipped a white towel around our waists and lined back up for the second number. 

Go time.  We walked out into a fogged stage, each of us reaching the head of the stage and taking off the towel when we reached the stairs, and walking the gauntlet once more, now to even more hooting and hollering.  Backstage once more, we changed to our jocks and were introduced by category.  Sirs first, then their 90-second speeches, then my category was introduced, followed by a mishap where the puppies went on next, but my speech followed.

I spoke out about how I identified as a boy, how I enjoyed submission, making others happy and how it felt to me when a dom says the words "Good boy" to me.  It means I have pleased them, done my job correctly.  I ended it there, I wanted to keep it short and to the point, and I had already gotten my point across.

Walking off stage I went to get ready for my fantasy with Dino when I noticed Brit's knees were bleeding.  He had decided to forgo his knee pads for the Puppy stamina number and ended up skinning them as a result.  I grabbed a paper towel and cleaned them up as best I could, the wounds healed fairly quickly which was great.  The intermission was a nice breather space, letting me get dressed in the calm before the puppies went and shared their own speeches.  I wasn't able to hear any of them due to being backstage coupled with the noise, which was frustrating as I really wanted a closer personal look into the Puppy world. 

After the speeches it came time for the fantasies, Sam and Brit went out first with a very intense fighting scene, which Sam ended by whipping out a fake dick and "pissing" all over Brit.  Needless to say the crowd loved it.  Next it came time for Dino and I to go out. 

The music we chose was "The Beginning" by DJ Krush, I walked out on stage in nothing but my towel, combat boots, red jock strap and some knee pads I quickly borrowed from Brit.  I sat down on the chair out on stage and started to towel myself off before Dino approached me as the football player and forced me to his cleats.  He pulled me up and along his body before his eyes met mine.  They were frighteningly intense, I had never seen them like that before.  If it wasn't just a stage act I would have probably been scared out of my mind.  He turned me around and directed my arms onto my head, he then lightly flogged me, then bent me down and "fisted" me, before grabbing both my arms behind my back with one hand and pushing me off stage.

As I walked backstage I felt a smile warm my face, I liked that.  It was fun.  My Alpha was absolutely right, I am an exhibitionist.

After my fantasy was the Puppy Play portion, I only saw bits and pieces of each one but it was very interesting, and cute in a dark "Ohhh, baaaad dog!" sort of way.







Finally after one final costume change we were marched out one last time to announce the winners.

- Dino won 1st Runner up for California Leather Sir 2012.
- Sam won California Leather Sir 2012.
- I won California Leather boy 2012.

- Slutbottom Chris won California Puppy 2012.

Now to clear up any confusion, yes I did run against myself.  However that does not mean I am an automatic winner and take the title by default.  I must make an average of 70% or more of Judge's points before I am awarded the title.  Besides, I wouldn't feel as if I earned the title anyway if I just won it by default. 

As California Leather boy, I represent all leather boys within the state, and it is my duty to train my puppy as well as, from what I have been told, forge a set of new social traditions and rules likened to Old Guard but for Leather boys and puppies.

As the contest ended, we were rushed to pack our gear and leave, but not before some random guy with a camera man popped in and asked us to do a shout out for a documentary called Kink Crusaders in Philadelphia.  Weary and disoriented from the great emotional event I had just been through with my cough entering its aggressive night phase, I walked with Slutbottom Chris and a group of his friends to The Eagle, one of whom, Jae, took very good care of me! Grabbing my bags and putting them in the van, checking on me every step of the way, running to get me juice, nuts and anything I needed as I was a right mess by the time we reached the bar. My cough had gradually worn me down over the weekend, adding in contest exhaustion, and quite frankly if anyone had offered me any more water I would have dumped the bottle all over everyone including myself within arm's length, started crying and laughing hysterically before passing out in the street! I had to be the guy with the cleanest bladder there!  However after the juice, vitamin water, and mixed nuts, plus a good sit down and a laugh or two I was good for another hour.


We were congratulated once again on stage at The Eagle, I mingled for a little before heading outside and eventually meeting up with Ian Bin (Mr. Long Beach Leather 2011), Dino, Michael (Mr. Long Beach Leather 2010 Alex Kitay's Sir) and my friend and dom, Michael.  Before heading home, Jae went and brought back all three of my bags from the van by herself, I felt awful when I saw her lugging all my heavy gear on her own, and I couldn't be more thankful for all the help she gave me that night.

It wasn't until I returned to Michael's apartment that I realized just how massive my title was.  When I finally took a good look at the medal that was around my neck, my eyes wandered to the massive poster of California on Michael's wall.  For this full year, I represent each and every single man who identifies as a leather boy in this entire state.  Looking up at the poster made me feel small, I was now a titleholder who represented a tremendous amount of people.


 I will be myself, I will not be someone else.

Sunday:

I woke up with Michael and we walked down to a restaurant called Brian's for breakfast, then came back to the apartment and played a little bit.  After the events of Saturday, I really needed to submit, be chained down, and given some tender love by a man in uniform, followed by a beautiful release.

After the afterglow had subsided and I was released, we went into the living room and watched "Idiocracy" with his prisoner guest who had been chained up the entire weekend I was there.  After the movie I packed my gear and dressed for the cigar beer bust at Redwing.  After we dropped Michael's prisoner off at the airport, we headed to the victory bust and met up with the others.  Once there a Jagermeister boy gave us some fun swag and he was also responsible for setting us up with our costumes for the opening act, so I gave him a proper hug thank you.  I also noticed he had a black Jagermeister handkerchief in his left pocket (which flags "S&M - top") so I had to wonder if it was simply promotional or was he really serious.  I made a mental note to see if he knew what flagging meant, but later I lost sight of his handsome face and the chance was lost.

We were introduced once more as the winners, we were given a VERY generous gift of a private photo shoot by our Den Daddy, Anthony who did an amazing job keeping us prepped and ready for our contest, as well as taking such wonderful care of me and my cough. We also received a disc of the photos from the contest, a guest pass to Slammer, and a gift card to The Crypt.  I was also given a very nice little leather journal, which I'm still trying to think of what exactly I want to use for.  I was told I should use it to record my title year, and I think that would be a good idea.

Later on after mingling and conversing I had dinner with Michael in the bar, as the cigar smoke was starting to get to me.  After which we gathered up and left to meet Dino at a bar called Numbers where a Drag Queen competition was just finishing up.  We said our goodbyes and Dino drove us home.



I'd like to take this time to thank the sponsors who donated and helped make this possible:

Paradise Piano Bar (Long Beach)
World Famous Falcon (Long Beach)
The Crypt (Long Beach)
Jagermeister
Queen Bee's (San Diego)
The Eagle (San Diego)
Redwing Bar and Grill (San Diego)
Pleasures and Treasures (San Diego)

Thank everyone who made this possible.

Thank you Tom for opening your home to us, bringing us food, and keeping us on the ball throughout the contest.

Thank you Anthony, for polishing my boots, bringing me medicine, and taking care of me.  I deeply appreciate that.

Thank you Michael for opening your home and bed to me, and taking care of me as I coughed through the nights I spent with you.  Thank you for the meals you treated me to, they were delicious.  Thank you for driving me and my gear around San Diego.

Thank you Dino, without you I never would have made it to San Diego in the first place, nor would I have made it back home.

Thank you everyone who came out to see us and to those who support us!  We love you!

Play Safe.

The Long Fetish Weekend

Friday
 
  Everything started when I arrived at the train station to meet Sir J and my newest friend, Sir M.  We picked up a quick dinner, and headed back to Sir J's home where we enjoyed our meal, and geared up to join the Soca Bondage Club which was already in progress.  Once there, I was asked by Sir J if I wished to wander or to play immediately.  Already excited and eager, I answered with the latter and was quickly changed out of my leather shirt, pants, and boots, and into a bishop head harness and collar.  I was led by rope lead into the darkened hallway, keeping my eyes on Sir J, only glancing briefly into the red Japanese themed room where a man in a rubber apron and gas mask waited alone upon the bondage table.  We entered what I would consider (from personal observation) the least popular room, jokingly referred to as "the straight room" or "the tea room" where Sir J ordered my eyes shut and my hands on a small wooden pedestal.  He then proceeded to spank me, a kink I don't really hold favor for as a submissive.  Little did I know what he had in mind.

    My ass was slapped lightly, then slowly subjected to fiercer and fiercer blows as I thanked my Sir for each one until I yelled out "Yellow, Sir! Please, Sir!" (Yellow is the basic safety word for "Please ease up! This is starting to go too far for my limits!" Think of a traffic light, green is "Go." Yellow is "Caution." Red is "STOP.") He eased up ever so slightly, but plateaued, keeping me on the edge.  I yelped and gasped in pain, it hurt badly! I had to grit my teeth and bear it!  What horrible punishment awaited me if I did not?!  He finally eased off and I thanked my good fortune...until he began again on my other ass cheek.

    Eventually he moved us out of the room, my head reeling, my ass sore, and into the hallway deeper back until we were around the corner and out of view, next to the door that lead into an office that wasn't part of the venue, but still physically connected to it.  He kissed me, worked me over, and to my dismay, began to spank me again.  It hurt, I roared! Growled! Snarled! Auuugh! Thank you, SIR!  Tears formed in my eyes, I trusted him, he knew what he was doing!  It hurt so bad!  At long last, when I thought I would collapse, he ceased.  I fell against him, I wanted to weep so much, but only a single tear balanced upon my eye.

"Such a good boy, I want to see you cry, it gets me off!  I want to push you into the Red!"

Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir!

I know he does not wish to hurt me, he would never, ever do that.  He has told me he wishes to push me, expand me, force me into the red to feel the flames of pain and to accept them.  This is how I grow, as each harsh experience will harden me for more.

Dazed and weak, I was led back into the main room.  I apologize, I cannot recall what happened immediately afterward.  I remember wandering back into the hallway later onward into the evening and within either the Medical Exam room or the Japanese Bondage room, seeing the sub I had admired once before, who was built like I imagine Adonis would be (if he were hairy like a bear), and his Dom, Sir Dk.  It was there that I saw my Alpha (formerly known as Master) giving him a hard good time, boldly kicking, punching, and striking his body.  I hid in the shadows, watching from afar with admiration.  Even further in the evening I witnessed both of them again, however my Alpha was tied to him, straitjacketed, grunting with pleasure as the Adonis rubbed his ass upon my Alpha's crotch.

My heart swelled, I was filled with joy being able to witness my Alpha so pleased and happy!  I stood there absorbing the sight before me, a man I bowed my head to with pride was bound and immobilized, struggling with pleasure with a man who was amazingly handsome, and I could feel no other emotions other than pride and joy.  What good fortune he has!

I was approached that evening by the gentleman who I had dominated the same night I first saw Adonis.  His soft face gently smiling, as he began to massage my body.  Hands skilled in therapy worked into releasing my pain, hidden between my joints and muscles.  I melted in his hands, kissed his face, thanking him deeply for his generosity and kindness.  However, when I asked him if he wished me to spank him as I had done so before, he politely declined, being a witness to my submissiveness earlier in the evening, he could not see me as dominant to him.  I understand.  All have their own, but I did feel disappointed that I could not return the favor of physical pleasure.

I recall also meeting the sub I was tied to the evening of my contest, whom I also shared some quality time with at the Long Beach Pride Leather Expo Tent.  We talked and wandered into the Throne Room where I proceeded to lightly caress him, hold him close, and tease his muscled chest ever so softly.  Seeing his eyes close in ecstasy made me want to do more to him, make him even happier, but he had informed me that his nipples, like my ass, were very sensitive and had been played with already that night.  Next time we meet, I plan to give him a work over.

Eventually the club came to a close and I went home with Sir M, back to Sir J's home.  Sir M was locked into the puppy cage downstairs after being chained and gagged, and I was ordered nude after being collared, and into Sir J's bed.

Saturday

Saturday morning I awoke and got out of bed.  Before I could enter the hall I met with Sir J who looked me over.

"You're walking..."

Yes, I was walking.  Wait, was I doing something wrong? I dropped to my hands and knees after remembering a discussion of being his houseboy for a future session, not being allowed on two feet, but I didn't chance challenging it.  His word was final.

"Good boy."

For the next few hours I would remain on my hands and knees, collared and nude.  I followed Sir J down into the basement dungeon and watched quietly from a distance on the stairs as he transferred Sir M from the puppy cage to the closet cell, chained him and kept him muzzled as he barked through the bishop head harness.  Sir J then motioned me to his feet and generously provided soft knee pads so my servitude would be comfortable.  Carpet is fine for a while, but tile floors can be very hard to deal with on ones knees.  I followed Sir J around the house, into the office where I lay on the floor while he worked on the computer.  I passed in and out of consciousness, lightly sleeping here and there until at one point I woke up and Sir J had left the room.  I looked to the book case and found a small TV set tuned to a live feed of the closet cell downstairs. 

This is how Sir J keeps an eye and ear on his prisoners, if they need anything, or if there is an emergency, Sir J will know immediately without having to be in the same room.  I highly recommend a closed-circuit video feed of any room like this, as it provides a watchful eye on a sub at all times.

Eventually I found myself downstairs once more, Sir M was released out of the closet cell and Sir J stripped him of everything but his collar.  I was ordered (to my delight) into Sir J's puppy cage.  I immediately thanked him, became comfortable on the padded floor and pillows, and snuggled up with the blanket Sir J provided for me.  I loved it, I felt safe and sound.  I watched as Sir M had entered puppy mode and was woofing and barking at Sir J until he brought out a rubber boot-shaped squeak toy.   Sir M and Sir J played around like a dog and master, Sir J would throw it and Sir M would fetch it, play tug-of-war, and Sir J would even pet and scratch him like he would a real dog, saying "Good boy!"  It was a very unique and new sight, at first it was amusing, then sweet.  At one point Sir M came up to me in the cage and offered the toy through the bars with his teeth.  I played along and gripped it in my own mouth, woofing back, tugging it, and generally having a good time.

I was let out of the cage in order to play properly, tossing the toy around the dungeon with our teeth, tugs of war, growling, barking, woofing, it was a new experience I can say that for sure.  However I would not say it resonated with me, even though it was somewhat fun I feel as if it was not for me, or rather I did not get as much pleasure out of it as Sir M and Sir J did.

After ordering us both into the pup cage, Sir J went upstairs and I was left all alone with Sir M.  His arms around my body as we snuggled together in the dark dungeon was a wonderful, warm, and tender experience.  We talked a while, our warm bodies so very close, skin against skin, protected by thick iron bars, and cushioned upon a bed pad, surrounded by implements of pleasurable torture.  It was so romantic.

As it was time for lunch, we were ordered upstairs and allowed on the furniture.  After our meal I excused myself to lie down, as I wasn't feeling very well, and crawled back inside the puppy cage for a nap.  When I awoke, a lot had transpired while I was asleep.  Sir M had Sir J locked inside the closet cell, in a straitjacket, blindfolded, and tied to the wall.  Sir M had donned his camo, boots, and hat, and opened my cage.  I then submitted to Sir M, his boot on my chest, my eyes wandering from the thick, black leather combat boot, to his camo uniformed legs, to his chest and finally to his handsome face.  I was so lucky, so very fortunate, to have such wonderful experiences as these.

He then ordered me into camo of my own, a white pattern set, which I put on immediately.  It felt wonderful, the cap a bit tight, but I felt amazing.  I will definitely be widening my wardrobe very soon the next visit I pay to an army surplus store.

Soon it was time to go and my close friend George picked me up to head over to L.A. Pride, where our friend Rich would be running for the Christopher Street West Title.  The festival itself was very enjoyable, lots of booths selling wares, services, novelties, and questionable festival food.  We arrived at Erotic City where I met up with many friends.  During the contest, I saw Rich in different sets of leather, including (much like my contest) a leather jockstrap. 

I was reminded of how far he has come as a man.  When I first met Rich, we were out in the back yard of George's house by the pool. I was in the water, George was in the hot tub, and Rich was shy but comfortable sitting out in the evening air wrapped up tight in a leather straitjacket.  He didn't say very much, probably because he was shy at first, but now he was in front of the leather family as well as plenty of drunk and obnoxious festival revelers, in nothing but a leather jockstrap, trading wit back and forth with the Emcee, Pup Don.

The contest went forth and even though Rich did not place, he hardly seemed phased, and I was ever the more proud of him.  He had gone up there and done it anyway.

It was a fine ending to a wonderful kinky, fetish weekend!

Play Safe.

A Tribute to Mr. Wong

Thank you.

Thank you for your wisdom, your kindness, your heart, your time, and your humor.

I did not know George for very long, I had only met with him a few times, I was introduced to George Wong by a very dear friend of mine in Rough Trade one night.  After we had left, my friend said to me, "Now that you know George Wong, you know everyone there is in the Leather World."

George was also my mentor for a brief period, he taught me a valuable lesson as a leather man and as someone who aimed to win a title.

"Let's say you've won the title, and you are now a titleholder.  You receive three invitations to three different events, all at the same time.  A leather event in Canada, a Lesbian conference in Texas, and a play party in San Francisco.  They all occur around the same time, so you can only choose to attend one.  Which one do you go to and why?"

I thought for a moment, and I asked "Is this a trick question?"  He simply answered "Just tell me which one you go to and why."

I answered "Well, I'd probably go to the leather event in Canada, in order to strengthen international bonds between fetish worlds."

He nodded and said "That was a good answer, and you're right it was a trick question. The answer I was looking for was 'Whichever event I committed to first.'"

A Leather Man, regardless if he is a titleholder or not, must always keep his commitments; if he makes a promise to attend an event, he must honor his word and be there.  I will remember that.

Thank you so very much, George.  I consider myself beyond fortunate to have met you and received your wisdom.  Good night, Sir.

Learn to Say NO

Learn to say "No".

It is your body, your chest, your face, your thighs, your ass.

Learn to say "No".

When you set limits, they are to be respected.

Learn to say "No".

When they are going too far, disrespecting you, or asks you something you really don't want.

Learn to say "No".

Disregard what people might say or think of you, this is your body, and your word is final.

Learn to say "No".

Because if you do not, and you let it happen, it may very well cost you something or someone very dear to your heart.  Maybe even your very life.


For the love of god, Play Safe.

Armor of a Fire Warrior

This evening my Canadian Soldier Sir offered to meet with me and hang out for a while.  I had been resting and vegging out and needed some outside time so I was happy to walk downstairs and meet him.

After spending some time with him, we headed back to his place where I helped him organize his gear for his trip up to IML.  Eventually we began to talk of uniforms and he brought out a large suitcase.  He opened it and revealed one of my favorite uniforms.

An American firefighter's turnout gear.  He had the jacket, the pants, the fire retardant hood, the helmet as well as the rubber boots.  I was hard.  My Sir helped me into the large pants, the boots, and the jacket, all of which were too big, but you couldn't really tell, nor did I care as much as I did before when I tried on a RCMP uniform.  I felt amazing.  The weight of the fire armor, the feel of my feet in the hard boots, the thickness of the coat.  I turned around and fell in love with what I saw in the mirror.

The coat had been through hell, it was a 100% real, authentic, and used L.A. Firefighter's turnout kit.  Scorch marks, soot stains, tears, frayed ends, holes in various places, oxidation on the coat snaps.  All real, all from the hard work and dedicated service of some handsome, anonymous firefighter.  My Sir ordered me on the bed, to which I happily obliged. Laying back, his handsome face looking into mine, his warm and eager smile, the feeling of being in real firefighter's gear, my eyes were welling up with tears of pure joy and gratitude.

After some heartfelt affection, cuddling, holding, and embracing, my Sir then ordered me to cum.  Inside the pants.  I closed my eyes and followed my orders, letting my mind drift to images of hot, muscled firemen, using huge wrenches to open fire hydrants that sprayed gallons of water all over their overheated bodies.  Sweat dripping down their sooty faces, the light of flames reflecting off their helmets and masks, intense eyes framed by the grime of long hours spent battling merciless blazes.  I reached my climax and relished in the afterglow, laying on the bed inside the gear.  My Sir caressed my forehead and kissed my cheek, and I slowly fell asleep.

I awoke an hour later, head woozy, body weakened, I could barely stand under the weight of the fire armor.  I groggily walked in the thick, over-sized boots to find my Sir in his office.  He swiveled in his chair and smiled at me, telling me how long I was passed out for.  I thanked him, tears welling up in my eyes again, the gratitude swelling in my chest.

Thank you, Sir.

Thank you Los Angeles Fire Fighters.


Play Safe.

Sacred Profanity and the Pistons Peep Show

I was given the pleasure of spending the majority of my day with my Master yesterday.  Last night after dinner we attended the opening of "Sacred Profanity" at the Belsito and Roche Gallery in Long Beach. 

I am actually in the show myself, Luis Skobar who has done work for 665 Leather, Instigator Magazine, and Nobleza Tequila, invited me to be one of his models for his installation in "Sacred Profanity".  I was more than thrilled to say yes!  I am still riding on air at seeing a portrait of myself in an art gallery.  He captured a side of me that I didn't know existed, and I couldn't be more excited to know that it does and that he found it.  They had a delightful tray pass and the owners from Nobleza were handing out samples of different tequila drinks.  I would definitely recommend their Naughty in Long Beach which had a smooth and creamy maple flavor, and Heaven in My Glass which was very refreshing and reminded me of a lemonade.  Also, please drink responsibly.  

The show is up from May 20th - July 9th, so if you're in the Long Beach area, please stop by the Belsito and Roche Gallery to come see it.  There is a lot of interesting pieces that I hope many people get to see.

Afterward, Master and I stopped by Paradise Piano Bar for a drink, enjoyed their Jocks and Straps club for a little while before moving onward to Pistons for their Peep Show party to kick off Pride weekend. 


After arriving we met up with Alex Kitay and his Sir, Michael and spoke for a while before moving around the bar and patio.  During the evening Master spotted one of the young men handing out Jagermeister swag and suggested I talk to him, joking that maybe I could get his shirt off.  At the time I spoke with him, current Mr. Long Beach Leather Titleholder, Ian Bin, was up on stage participating in a mummification demonstration.  I asked the Jager boy if he liked what he saw, and he said it was trippy.  I asked him questions, and ended up explaining things like the Stonewall Inn Riots, the Satyrs Motorcycle Club, and encouraged him to explore any curiosities he may have in the fetish world.  I was very happy to see his reactions to everything I told him, he seemed genuinely interested and curious, and I hope I have opened something new to him that he may not have seen before.

As the Peep Show party continued, Sir Ian tied someone on stage for a bondage demonstration, Alex and Michael provided an electro play demonstration as well.  I asked if there was going to be a flogging demonstration and if they needed a sub for it, as Gary was asking around before for a sub to demonstrate mummification.  I would have gladly volunteered for it if I wasn't sensitive to claustrophobia.  I did find out that Tom was looking for a flogging sub and I jumped at the chance to help out, with Master's permission of course.

When I found Tom, we went over the important details.  "Have you been flogged before?" "What is your general reaction to flogging?" "What do you like in a flogging scene?" and so on.

I love soft leather floggers, the blunt thud on my back is fantastic, stinging pain is not pleasurable for me and I absolutely live for that wave of endorphins that follows a tender caressing pet on my back after it's been worked over.

I was led up on stage, behind the transparent screen, and the scene began shortly thereafter.  Tom removed my jacket, then my vest, then had me place my hands on a bar stool for balance.  He began like all good flogging scenes have for me, light brushes with the flogger, light feather slaps on my back.  All the while he told me to breath from deep within, from the base of my spine.  He intensified and the blows came a little harder, I kept breathing.  I focused on my breath, coming in and going out.  The blows intensified again at his warning, the loud slaps upon my back felt powerful, but I kept breathing.  He leaned in and kept telling me exactly what he was doing at all times, and here came the serious blows, he was going to push me.

I breathed, waiting for them to come, breathing, and the first very heavy blow came, it stung my skin, but I kept breathing, the second one came, it was harder to focus, I kept breathing, my legs began to quiver.  I wasn't sure if that was from the cold air or something else.  (As I type this my back is beginning to tingle like a sunburn.) 

He kissed my back and it felt wet, but wetter and colder than usual.  "Your kisses feel as if my back is bleeding, sir."  He reassured me that my back was fine, that the skin was far from broken and that he would never break my skin or make me bleed.  I was close to my limit, and I said "I'm nearing my edge, sir." he said that we would wrap it up and the end was coming soon.

The blows came upon me again, and I let out a loud roar. 

"Yes! Let it out! That's a good boy!"

Another! I roared again! 

"Good boy! That's what I like to hear!"

He came in close and asked how I was doing.  I felt...intense, not angry but something like being angry at no one and at nothing without the hate or rage...and without thinking I said "Let the lion out..."

"What boy?"

"Let the lion out!"

Two more heavy blows, followed by my screams after each one, and I couldn't go any further.  My back was burning, I bowed over the bar stool to show him I couldn't take any more like he had instructed me to do so earlier, he held me...and I wept, legs shaking, and my back shivering in the cold night air.  They announced the end of the scene and I heard applause.

I was brought down, then gently handed over to Master who led me off stage and over to the bench where he held me.

We went back to my place when I was able to, and I fell asleep in Master's arms.  Ever so fucking thankful that I was alive and living the life I never knew I could, knowing the people I know now, developing meaningful friendships with fascinating and powerful individuals, and being incredibly happy with every detail.


Play Safe. 

I Love You.

Two Doms and a Sub

Yesterday afternoon I asked my dear friend, the Canadian soldier, if he was available to meet at all.  I am glad I did.

When I arrived, he told me that another sub was on his way, someone he wanted me to help tie up that afternoon.  I was excited by the idea, I had always wanted to play with a helpless sub before with another dom, and doing so with my Sir would be like a dream.  He suggested that I hide in the bedroom, and he would hood the boy when he arrived, we would play, then I would hide in the bedroom again right before he took the hood off when the sub left so he would never see me.  I liked that idea very much, being a mystery man.

I asked who the sub was and my Sir showed me his profile.  I started laughing, it was a man I already knew and had been trying to get together with for some time now, but for whatever reason we had never done so.  The pure stroke of luck struck me as funny, and I thanked my good fortune.

When he did arrive, I made my way into the bedroom and waited, my Sir had him strip naked and then hooded him with a neoprene hood with only a mouth hole and nasal holes for breath, he was lead into the bedroom where I was waiting.

He was amazing, toned body, tan, beautiful chest with firm pecs, slim frame and soft skin.  My Sir and I exchanged thrilled nonverbal expressions, I walked up to him, placed my hands on the sub's shoulders and said.

"Hello, boy."

He responded with "Zage?"

What the hell?


"Is that you, Zage?" he asked, placing a hand on my face, feeling my goatee, my nose, going over the details in his head.  I had no idea of how to respond, I was surprised that anyone could recognize by touch like that, but then again he and I had shared maybe one or two phone conversations before, I was hoping natural phone distortion of voice would work in my favor.


The hood came off and he confirmed what he was certain about, I could only respond with a smile and "God damn it." Am I that recognizable?


He was delighted that I was the surprise dom, and we continued talking casually for a short while.  He brought out his toy bag and showed me two different bottles of nipple lick, flavored gel you can put on someone's nipples in order to give a scene a little bit more detail.  I taste tested them on him and I'd definitely use them myself if I obtain any in the future.  He also brought out a bottle of Rush liquid incense, and explained what it was. 


He told me that it basically gives you a lightheaded feeling, and it makes it harder for him to ejaculate, which he likes because he's a fan of edging and milking play.  However YOU SHOULD NOT USE LIQUID INCENSE OR POPPERS IF YOU HAVE A HISTORY OF HEART PROBLEMS OR IF YOU ARE UNSURE OF YOUR HEART'S HEALTH.  I myself am not interested in inhalants or anything that is a chemical-induced high, but I always wanted to know what they did for people who enjoyed them.

Eventually my new friend was gagged, blindfolded, and bound by wrist and ankle restraints to the door in my Sir's bedroom.  He squirmed and moaned softly into his gag.  His naked body, toned and firm was exposed to us, we were free to do whatever we wished to him, I eased in with some light feather touching.  Letting my fingers slowly skim the surface of his skin, I went up and down his entire body, admiring his firm pecs, his smooth tanned skin, his toned stomach.  I ran my hands through his soft, short dark blonde hair.  I wanted his body.  Badly.  I looked back at my Sir, who was on the bed, stroking himself, nodding and smiling.

I kept going. 


I leaned in and kissed his ear, letting my breath flow inside of it, I then knelt down and did what I've always wanted to do to a muscular stud.  I slid my tongue all the way up from his stomach to his chest, to his neck, and softly bit down on his shoulder.  He squirmed and moaned.



I kept going.


I kissed his body, starting from his neck down to his chest, around his pecs, then bit his nipples softly, running my tongue over them.  I kissed his stomach and down to his hips, stopping just above his groin.  I breathed on his very erect member, and it stood straight up.  I stood up and slid my arms around him, embracing his sexy body against mine.  Feeling him against me, helpless, restrained, whimpering into the gag.  I loved it.

My Sir soon joined me, and we worked him over, licking, sucking, kissing, caressing.  I wanted to make him feel like the luckiest sub in the world.  I wanted to hear him moan desperately into the gag, but I could only get him to whimper.

I love it when I hear men groan, moan, and gasp in ecstasy.  Their eyes rolling back into their heads, close to passing out in pure passion.  I want to make a man reach cloud nine, and then push him even further skyward, have him close to screaming in pleasure.  If I can do that one enchanted evening, I would feel like I had achieved the impossible.

Our sub was released and led over to the bed, where we continued our sensual scene, his wrists and legs bound in a hogtie restraint.  Soon he was lubed up and stroked by my Sir.  Edged to the point of climax, and then denied, several times, his slightly frustrated moans muffled by his gag.  At one point my Sir edged him too far, and he was passed the point of no return, he kept stroking and our sub came.  Suddenly my left leg was gripped, sharp nails dug into my flesh, I froze in shock, he was roaring into the gag.  The helpless, restrained, whimpering sub boy was now a snarling beast with one clawed hand threatening to tear open my left thigh.

He calmed down and looked at me, sweet innocence in his eyes.  Bullshit.  Innocence doesn't snarl like that!

"Are you okay?  Did I hurt you?  I'm sorry!"

I have seen men cum, ejaculate, climax, and reach purest ecstasy;  I have heard them gasp, moan, groan, grunt, and make noises difficult to put into words; but this is the very first time I have seen a man transform into a raging animal in bed.

It was scary.

He explained that my Sir knew what to expect, as they have played together several times before, I however was not warned beforehand as to what to expect.

We relaxed and enjoyed each other, talked, I had mentioned that I had first met the sub at Soca Bondage Club, I recalled that he was dominating another sub intensely. Soon after saying this, the tables were turned...on me.  He transitioned from submissive to Dominant, and my Sir blindfolded me, and placed a boot on my chest, ordering me NOT to drop it.  I was stroked and dominated by two men.  One being my Sir whom I respect and trust enough to have him lead me blindfolded through the plane of hell itself.  The other, a self-tamed animal of sexual energy, whose sharp barking voice would send me hiding in a corner, quivering and shaking, absolutely terrified.

I did everything he told me to, out of fear.  I dared not cross him at all.  He hid his Dominating energy so well, I couldn't sense it at all.  When I had met Ms. Cynthia, I knew the moment I got close enough to her that she held an intense power inside.  I could feel it two feet away.  However when I met this young man, even when he was restrained and helpless, and I was tightly embracing him, I never sensed even an ounce, let alone a droplet of the terror-inducing Domination that was flowing so freely out of him as he towered over my helpless frame.

He then pinched my nose and held a hand over my mouth, I struggled to breathe, and then he allowed it.  He held my nose again, this time sealing my mouth with his and forcing his breath into my chest, I struggled again, what the hell was happening!?  Soon I found a rhythm, suck air in, blow back out, suck air in, blow back out, survive, survive in pattern, he released me and I gulped fresh air.

He had performed breath play on me and did not ask my permission, nor did he warn me beforehand, he did not negotiate this with me.  This was dangerous.

I was so scared of him, terror gripped me hard.  I had completely forgotten that my Sir was still in the room.

At one point he asked if I was someone's boy, and it hit me like a flood of light.

Master!

My Master's handsome face ran through my mind, and a new sense of courage flowed into me.  The terror vanished like flash paper.  I felt in control.

"I am my Master's boy!" I answered, proudly.

"Does he know where you are, boy?" he barked at me.

"No."

"What?!" he seemed almost angry.

"I am not collared.  I gave my Master his title, and I am his slave, his boy."

He understood.  He continued to dominate me, but now it was more like a power struggle.  I did not feel helpless whatsoever.  He had me on my stomach, he gripped my balls.

"Whose are these?" he demanded.

I felt defiant, almost angry with pride as I answered "My Master's!"

"Good answer, boy."

The scene eased, and I was given gentle aftercare.  He stroked my head, keeping me on his chest, I enjoyed this a lot.  I love gentle, sensual, soft, and soothing aftercare.  We talked a while, the three of us, and later we left and said goodbye to my Sir.  He then drove me home and we said goodnight.

I also discovered something very important.  My Master gives me strength, my Master gives me courage.  My Master has instilled his very essence into me.  I think I know when he did it too...

Before, I had slight doubt about the supernatural, the ideas of magic, ghosts, and mind over matter. I wasn't sure if it was real or not.  I wanted to believe it, but people scoffing and claiming science can explain everything made me feel slightly foolish for doing so, keeping me in a less than neutral state of mind. Now I truly believe there is most definitely more than science.  I have seen a ghost in the past, I have somehow made a quarter stick to a wall with what felt like will alone, and now my Master has installed a piece of his spirit inside of me.  This is more than enough for me to believe that much more is possible.


Play Safe.

The Gentleman in the Red Uniform

This afternoon I had the distinct pleasure of finally meeting with someone that I had been trying to get together with for some time now.

He is a fan of uniforms as I am, and he has one of my absolute favorites, a real Royal Canadian Mounted Police uniform!  When we arrived in his hotel room, he excused himself to the storage room to fetch something and invited me to try on any uniform I wished while he was gone.  I immediately went for the RCMP. 

I admired it on the hanger, it was more beautiful than I imagined it or had seen in pictures.  The red was so bold and proud, the dark blue so deep and powerful, the yellow stripe on the breeches was a striking accent.  I admired it for a while longer before taking it and carefully laying it upon the bed.  I put on the pants and suspenders and found that I was too thin for the waist, the coat came on next and it was large on my narrow frame.  I walked in front of the mirror and felt my heart ache.

I looked as if I were a child trying on his father's uniform!  It was so embarrassing!  I felt I was disrespecting this amazing uniform by trying to wear it.  I returned it to its hanger as carefully as possible and decided to change into my own CHP uniform.  My friend soon returned just as I began to change in his bathroom.  He asked if I wanted him to wear anything, and I asked if he would wear the RCMP, to which he happily agreed, much to my excitement.

I soon finished changing, and slid my recently acquired police baton into its holster at my gun belt.  As I waited with eager anticipation for him to finish.  My heart began to beat excitedly, there I was, in the same hotel room as a man who would be wearing my favorite uniform in the world.  A man who was handsome, and of a gentle, worldly demeanor.

His voice finally came through the crack in the door, I moved my gloved hand to the door handle, took a moment to breathe, and exited the bathroom.

There, with his back to me, stood a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer.  He turned to face me, the coat red and crisp, the breeches blue with striking yellow, the boots a deep earthy reddish brown, the gauntlet gloves a deep brown, the belt, the hat...my heart began to flutter.  My mind went blank, I could only move towards this beautiful and dignified sight.

His eyes, once gentle and smiling, now looked me over with a quiet, subtle intensity, framed by the tan stetson, and the dark navy collar.  His whispered orders were met with immediate obedience.  His touch and grasp made me sigh and gasp with gratitude.  His gloved grip over my mouth made me lightheaded.  He tore open my shirt, tossing it behind me, he forced open my belt and down to my ankles my breeches did fall, he yanked off my boots, and I was left in only my briefs and gloves.

A Canadian Mountie was dominating me.

He ordered me to his boot, and I couldn't fall to my knees fast enough.  It was an honor to service these boots of lore, of fetish legend.  Eventually he ordered me back on my feet and took another uniform from his closet.  He dressed me in a light blue shirt, dark navy pants, firm smooth black boots, and soft white leather gauntlet gloves.  He finished me off with a narrow navy hat.  I discovered I was wearing a Gendarmerie uniform.  He ordered me on the bed to join him, we lay together, and he kissed me deeply.

A Canadian Mountie was kissing me.

It felt beautiful, dignified, masculine.  Two uniformed men in each others arms, embracing, kissing.  Feeling the red coat under my gloved hands as I gripped him closer to me.  The smell of the uniform, so clean and even bold in scent, bold in dignity and order.

I am so thankful for the opportunity to see, feel, and experience a gentleman in a real RCMP uniform, it is almost moving me to tears.  I embrace these experiences deeply, never knowing when the next one will come about, never knowing when one may be the last of its kind.  Taking in as much as possible, I grip and squeeze all I can out of them.

Serving a Mountie, one of my many fantasies has come true. 

Merci! Merci beaucoup!

Mr. Long Beach Leather 2011 Competition!

This weekend has been...beyond amazing.  I have experienced an overflow of wondrous, overpowering joy, but before that point I had to stand at a cliff's edge of anxiety and jump into the unknown, alongside my two leather brothers, Ian and Drew.

Three Days of amazing, insane, terrifying, and emotional experiences follow.

Day 1: Friday, April 29th

The Meet and Greet. 

The evening started with Sir C. and I attending a private party for the contestants and judges at Alex Kitay's (Mr. Long Beach Leather 2010) and his Sir's house.  I met the judges, Ms. Cynthia, Utah Rox, Alexei, and of course Alex himself.  After an enjoyable party as well as a chocolate pudding penis (Yes, it's all completely true, Alex and Michael made home made chocolate pudding and put it in a penis mold.  These guys are freaking hilarious!), we departed for Pistons Bar where Ian, myself and Drew went about the bar, meeting people, introducing ourselves and getting to know the crowd.

Day 2: Saturday, April 30th

The Competition

The day started quite early, 11:00am we had rehearsals at the bar, going through the competition step by step, practicing going up on stage, using the microphone, thinking of what we want to put together for our 90-second speeches, as well as listening Pup Don practicing his song for the evening.  Pup Don has a fantastic singing voice by the way, I never thought of him as a singer before this.  Then around 1:00pm we broke for lunch which was generously donated by Johnny Reb's, I grabbed a BBQ Pork sandwich, oh my god it was excellent and I am totally going there in the future.  After lunch the judges arrived and set up for the interviews.  David, Alexei's partner, was our coach who helped calm us down and think through things before the interview. 

I went first.  My nerves fried, I stepped out of the bar, into the back patio and approached the stage.  After I shook the judges' hands, I ascended onto the stage, looked down upon the four people who would be placing me under intense scrutiny...and I relaxed.  Almost as if my fears were shoved behind a pane of soundproof glass, squirming and writhing, but I could not hear them.  The interview began, and I was asked questions like

"If you won the title, what would you do for the leather community?"
"Who are the Satyrs?"
"Do you know what the NCSF is?"

I answered each question to the best of my ability, then when the interview was over, I stepped down, shook the judges' hands once more, thanked them, returned to the bar, and had a miniature stress breakdown as all the stress died in a violent cataclysm in my chest.  Ian then went forward, and after him, Drew.

The hard part was finally over, the contest was next.

Master and his partner picked me up at the bar and we headed to Razorback's where I needed to get a haircut.  Unfortunately it was already 5:00pm and the barbershop was closed, we headed over to Syndicate on Broadway and I discovered they were closed as well.  They directed me towards Trimmy's a small salon across the street, which I discovered which was still open.  I entered and asked if they could give me a quick haircut, and Michael David gave me a wonderful cut, I was so thankful!  They really saved my ass!

After picking up my gear, heading to Master and his partner's hotel room, and getting ready, we all headed out to Pistons where the competition awaited us.

Entering the bar, I made a beeline for the changing tent, Ian and Drew were already inside along with David who would be our "wrangler" for the night.  All throughout the contest he helped us change in and out of our gear, gave us last minute opinions on what would help our gear really impress the crowd, and reminded us on what we had forgotten in rehearsal.  The competition went in stages.

1) The competition is introduced, and Pup Don sang his song Liz Phair's "Fuck and Run" as we changed into our first outfits.

2) The first outfit judging was the "Bar / Cruise Wear", what gear we would wear normally on a night of leather in a bar.  I went with my Chippewa Engineer boots, leather pants, zip up leather shirt, and my very first piece of leather my good friend George passed down to me, a black leather riding jacket.  Since I was contestant #1, I went up first and answered a question about my bio about being a "casual furry".  I explained who furries were, and I considered myself a casual, since I didn't really delve very deeply into the furry communities and circles, but rather I occasionally wrote stories with furry characters.

3) We changed into our next outfits, our jockstraps and "skin wear".  I wore a simple leather harness, leather wristband, and a leather jockstrap which were lent to me by Luis Skobar along with my combat boots.  Getting up on stage again, I was asked a question about a sexual fantasy of mine.  The fantasy I chose to disclose was where I am abducted by two hot, muscled cowboys.  They take me into a secluded barn for a few hours of amazing bondage play, and then drag me out to a huge mud pool where they untie me and we indulge ourselves in a few rounds of the hottest nude mud wrestling you can imagine.  Then as a surprise, we were asked to strike a sexy pose on a nearby bondage table.  That was fun.

4) Our final outfit change, the Formal Leather Wear and the last hard part of the entire weekend, our 90-second Speech.  I went with my CHP leather uniform, and for my 90-second speech I spoke about how I was introduced into the leather world by my dear friend George.  What was amazing was that as I spoke, it flowed out of my heart and into the night air, not a single tripped word or grasp for an idea.  As I stepped down and entered the changing tent, I broke down in tears.

It felt so beautiful, I had never exposed myself so deeply, I had never poured my heart out like that before, I had ripped away a sheet of privacy and bared myself against the audience, and they applauded me.

Thank you George.


5) Alex Kitay stepped down as Mr. Long Beach Leather after his speech, then we were called up once more all together.  The runners up were selected, Drew won 2nd Runner Up, then I was selected as 1st Runner Up, and finally Ian was named Mr. Long Beach Leather 2011. 

As we stepped down and were released into the audience to find our friends and celebrate, I was so overwhelmed with joy that I burst into tears.  All the stress, anxiety, excitement, hugging George and Master, I was so very, very happy.  Afterward Master tied me and another sub for a while, but at that point I was so exhausted I don't think I enjoyed it as much as I could have, even though I wanted to play so bad.  As I remember that night, I'm tearing up again, it was so amazing.

As winners, we all received a beautiful Tom of Finland poster, and a year of classes at Ms. Cynthia's BDSM Workshop.

As the night ended, I went home with Master and spent the night at his hotel room as a wonderful ending to an intense day.


Day 3: Sunday, May 1st

The Victory Beer Bust


After a delightful breakfast at Park Pantry, Master, his partner, and I all went back to Pistons to attend the Victory Beer Bust and BBQ.  Today was a day to relax and relish in our hard work.  I spoke with many members of the leather world over these past three days, many people who have seen years of experiences, but these three individuals really struck me.

Alexei Romanoff, whom I see as a proud grandfather of the leather community.  A man who fought very hard so I could be up on that stage without the police coming to raid the bar and arrest us all in an act of discrimination and hate.  His softness, his encouraging smile, he had nothing but a wonderful gentleness about him.  I want to listen to his stories, to his history.

Ms. Cynthia, a woman who's cackling laugh is unmistakable as it is uplifting.  I sensed a terrifying ferocity behind her warm smile, which I immediately respected.  She works hard to educate in BDSM play so I may learn even more about this amazing fetish world.

Utah Rox, a man who told me that your boots are what carry you in your leather, and forward in my journey in the world.  This man spoke with me at length about the art of boot-blacking, and that he wishes for me to study under a respected mentor to learn more.  In all honesty, I admire boot blacks, and respect their skill, but never saw myself polishing a boot before.  However that does not mean I will not attempt to learn the art.  I may be traveling to San Diego one weekend this year, and we'll see what happens.

I feel that I have grown this weekend...these experiences, these people, everything that has happened and taken place have awakened something somewhere inside of me.  I needed this very badly.

Now...I just need to sleep.


Thank you so very much.  I love you all.

Play Safe.

Return to Anvil

This would actually be my second experience with Anvil, a play party that is held I believe once a month at different venues around Southern California.  My first experience with Anvil was somewhat jarring, but I'll tell that story another time.

Last night I was invited to Anvil by Sir. C, the Canadian Soldier I proudly served under not too long ago.  I was ordered to wear my CHP uniform while my Sir brought his hockey gear, as the party's theme was sports gear that night.  The Anvil party was held at the same venue as Soca Bondage Club, Threshold.  After we arrived, he began to change into his gear in the lobby, transforming into an intimidating, yet very sexy hockey player in red.  I couldn't help but fall into his arms and embrace him.  The padding, the armor, the feeling of it all against my own body, enveloping me in a protective hug made me feel safe and secure in his arms.  He broke the embrace and led the way inside the tarp curtain, I followed as if lead by an invisible leash made of lust.

The main room was darkened significantly, the only light coming from the lamp above the bartender's table, the big screen TV showing a continuous loop of porn, and some very dim lights above.  The music in the air was quite erotic, dark in nature and very sinister.  (I'm actually looking for some good dungeon music and so far have not been able to come up with any that is enjoyable. If you know of any great music for dungeon play, or if you were at last night's Anvil party and know what CD was playing, please share this information in the comments, or email me at leatherfetishfox@gmail.com I'd love to get my paws on some very badly!)
The front room was filled with men in varying types of gear, some walking around in bare-assed jock straps, many in wrestling singlets, some in leather, but the only one who was in full hockey gear (and pulling it off in an amazing way) was my Sir.  The longer I stayed in the main room, the more I noticed the significant difference between the energy at Soca Bondage Club and Anvil.  Given it is the same exact location, with only a few minor differences made, a bar is set up in the center of the room, porn is being shown, the lights are off, but the energy is drastically different.  It is no longer a feeling of safe and consensual familiarity, but a dark and selfish feeling of lustful greed.

My Sir and I remained in the main room for a while, talking and enjoying each other until a gloved hand forcefully clamped over my mouth from behind and pulled my face into a leather clad chest.  At first I was completely caught off guard, but as I was pulled in I recognized the firmness, the forcefulness, the scent.  "Hello, boy!" a voice said.  Master! It was Master!  My mind immediately dove into full submission, he placed his hand upon my head and pushed me to my knees, my face in his boot and lovingly serviced them without hesitation.  They had been recently polished, the smell of it wafted into my nostrils.  I hear Master and Sir C's voices in the distance, as if in another room despite them being directly above me, my subspace state so strong my only objective being to service Master. 

"I'm sorry, forgive me for interrupting."
"Oh, how can you not?"

They flatter me, and my loyalty to them swells in my chest. Master pulls me back up to my feet and embraces me tightly to his chest, his heartbeat in my ears, and my body completely his to do what he wishes.  My memories a cloud of subspace, I recall sitting on the bondage table with both Sir C and Master, conversing until Master looks to my right and says "Oh, hello there." as I turn my head, Master forbids it and stands me up instead.  Looking behind me he asks "Are you ready to receive?" unsure if he is speaking to me or the man behind me I remain silent, head awash in submission.  A firm swat on my ass and my haze is broken. 

"Thank you, Sir!" I thank my unknown assailant, another one, and another one, faster now, harder, arrgh! Master asks me if I know who it is, I quickly analyze the feeling of the spankings and I know exactly who it is behind me.  "Sir J?" I answer, reeling ever so slightly.  I was spun around and so it was!  The same Sir J who is responsible for subjecting me to many fun experiences.  Suddenly I am overwhelmed, I am surrounded by three amazing dominant men who have not only shown me wonderful and fulfilling fetish and kink scenes, but who have all reached me on a deeply emotional level.  I could fall to my knees and weep, thanking the universe for such a grace. 

The evening rolled onward, I had my boots shined for the first time and I must say the complimentary boot black did a superb job.  Although during my shine, some man who has been following me around for some time at these sort of venues walked up and groped me without permission, asking if I wanted to be serviced while my boots were being serviced.  I declined immediately, wishing this guy would just take the hint and reminding myself to be more direct next time.  Afterward, Master ordered me to strip to my jock and boots, check my uniform in with the coat check, and placed me in a rope harness for the night.  Another blur, my memory is poor after intense nights, I apologize.  I had decided to explore past the curtain into the hall of rooms, Master asked if I would be okay, given the nature of the party and my current dressing he was genuinely concerned, knowing what had happened the last time I attended an Anvil party.  I assured him that I would be fine, I was confidant in my ability to express myself and to refuse or decline advances.  I am so thankful he looks out for my well being, he constantly upholds his title of Master as a proud and shining beacon of trust.

As I parted the tarp curtain and stepped into the hallway, the true nature of this party revealed itself.  As the tarp closed behind my back, I was faced with a darkened hallway, once familiar, now shrouded in a dim blue light. The air filled with a dirty energy, a filthy vibration.  It made me close myself off, and seal up my mind.  I passed by the open doors.  I pass by the open door to the chain spiderweb room, a pair of men are together, fucking inside.  Not making love, not having sex, but fucking.  An audience built around the door and spilled inside, closing in around them with no permissions asked or boundaries observed.  I continue onward, passing by the throne and suspension room.  A group of men are inside, huddled together, kissing lustfully and preparing a scene.  I pass onward once more, the sounds of primal moans and grunts fill the air, but these testosterone sighs are different than the ones I've heard before, different from the ones I was so very fond of.  These are ones that are tinged with a rasp of filth, a twisted echo.

Nothing seemed to feel right at all.  I felt contempt. Why? What the hell for? I didn't understand why I would feel such a thing.  What a terrible thing to think of others! Shame on me! The nagging feeling refused to leave my head.  The energy spoke volumes, but was I simply ignorant of what was going on?  My gut told me to tread carefully.  I kept my back to the walls when standing still in observation, but I didn't wish to stay long in any specific place.  My voyeurism was not entertained, but instead turned away in discomfort.  I escaped the hallway and returned to the main room, leaving the dark lust behind me.

My mood was sullied, I saw an empty bondage bench and looked at it in the darkness, the light of the TV showed wet spots.  Grabbing a bottle of medical disinfectant, I wiped the whole bench down.  I felt eyes upon me, I didn't care, I had become angry, they could take their gazes and blind them for all I cared at that moment.  Satisfied with the wipe down, I sat upon the bench and relaxed.  The night continued, I returned to Master at one point and became a teaching subject of physical touch for a handsome and quite muscular gentleman.  His biceps like fleshy stone, his pectorals a broad and beautiful achievement of discipline, despite his power, his touch was soft and featherlight.  Fingers floating upon my skin, broad arms rising and falling, he confessed to enjoying my rear.  He was more than welcome to touch it, he was polite and I felt a restrained lust from him.  He wanted to do more, but he was behaving himself.  Given what I had seen before, I was proud of him for holding back.  He hugged me once I told him what a big fan of muscular men I was.  Oh it was bliss, two large forearms of power wrapped around me from behind!  Squeeze me! Crush me! Make me feel your raw power!

Unfortunately when someone else had come up and I was shared between them, he faded away, wandered off and vanished through the tarp front door.  I didn't see him again, much to my dismay.  I hope to encounter him again someday soon.

I returned to Sir C and we went into the hallway together, my attraction and yearning for my Sir led us to the farthest corner of the hallway at the very back, hidden from immediate view.  We embraced and kissed, energy flowing strong and libido inflamed.  Then, something new rose to the surface.  My energy mixed with the vibration of filth that saturated the hallway, and I felt a slutty, whorish side of me awaken.  I wanted Sir C in a new way, I wanted to tease him.  I wanted to tantalize him.  However, I did things a stereotypical twink slut would do.  Looking back, if I had seen myself acting in such a way, I would have slapped myself across the face, disgusted with my own behavior, I know that isn't me nor someone I want to act like.

We eventually wandered on to find a room for ourselves, one room was left in a horrible condition.  A beer can left on the bondage table, empty lube and condom wrappers beside it, and a used condom crumpled and left on the table nearby, the rubber coated in semen glistened disgustingly in the dim light.  My former feelings to suppress and scold myself for feeling contempt dissolved immediately.  This was inexcusable and absolutely disgusting!  Pick up after yourselves for fuck sake!  Slobs!  The jail cell room was left in similar condition, and my Sir made sure to sanitize the bondage table in there before ordering me up on it.

I eventually relaxed again and put my anger aside, Sir C gently pleasured me and I closed my eyes to enjoy his touch.  I felt shadows passing closely, watching briefly and then moving onward to the next scene.  It wasn't until I felt two hands pleasuring me that I opened my eyes.

There was someone else touching me.

I was caught in a mix of submission and disgust.  Sir C was so focused on me that he didn't realize someone else had approached and invaded the scene.  My immersion faded and I just felt slightly violated.  I wanted to yell out,

"You fucking pig! Get your slimy hands off of me!  We didn't invite you! Get the hell out!"

I could only squirm in discomfort unable to express myself, thankfully Sir noticed the bastard and removed his hand from me immediately. 

Never, ever, ever invade a scene.  I don't care what you may be thinking at the time!  It is invasive, rude, and disgusting to just step in or hover closely over a scene in progress!  Regardless of the venue, or the nature of the party, you WAIT TO BE INVITED.  It ruins the moment completely when someone comes up and helps themselves.

Thankfully, we were able to continue, and Sir protected me after the scene climaxed.  The rest of the evening was enjoyable and relaxed and even given the unpleasant instances, I had a good time.  Although I don't think Anvil is my kind of party element. 

I'm still caught between two feelings.  A feeling of contempt and a feeling of shame for feeling the contempt.  I'm not sure how to close on that thought.

Please play safe.