Southern Sole 2013!
Any words I put together to try to explain it all won't be enough. My words will be lacking. They won't convey the emotions or the experiences or the friendships made. The new doors opened or the things I saw or did. Someone told me Saturday that I was in Sensory Overload, and I was. I haven't been to a gay bar in years, much less a gay resort (I don't count goth night here). All of it was new, and lit up my senses in a way that I never expected. I realize now how incredibly sheltered I was - and still am.... hiding in the safety and security of my little pansexual groups. Not that there's anything wrong with them - there isn't.
Its just ... different.
I've been building to this for years. Ever since the first time I saw M black boots on another person. It never occured to me that it could be sensual. But it was. And in my head - that was cool, and neat, and amazing but - that was her thing. Not mine. Her path. Not mine. So as she prepared to go to SELF ... I watched her with pride, knowing she would do fine. Knowing she'd found her path, and envious that I still had no idea what mine was. This was in 2008-2009.
Now, today as I write this ... I don't know if this is my thing. This bootblack thing. I know when I touched the boots on another person for the first time Saturday night, something changed. When I put the dauber down, touched where the lather met the leather, something changed. As I watched the dark, dusty leather peak through and the dirt go away, something changed. My for-the-night mentor told me she saw it too. I knew I felt it, inside. I was just in shock that she could see it too.
Sitting here, thinking about it, writing about it... I have this knot in the pit of my stomach. I feel like I'm going to explode from the inside out.
I can't tell you how terrified i was. I was determined I was NOT going to black any boots Saturday night. Daddy had other ideas and I didn't fight them. I cried. I was scared. I pouted - not to him, not in front of him, but on my own terms. I just knew i was going to fuck something up. And I didn't.
I don't know if he noticed - the guy whose boots I did. I didn't know him at all. I didn't know his girlfriend. He wasn't the type of person I would normally have any sexual interest in whatsoever. But sitting there. Touching his boots. I had to lick them. I had to smell them. I had to put my face on them. I told myself going in ... this is not going to be sexual. This is not going to be a scene. And it may not have been - to the extent that some of the other blacks did. But... it was.
I finished. His face - looked happy. I was cleaning up, and saw Daddy. He looked proud. So did giz. I was shaking. I kept cleaning.
In all of the things I've done in this lifestyle this may very well have been a turning point. Or - it may not have been. I said that when I got home from SJW. Back then, in my head I told myself that everything was gonna change when I got home. I had been exposed to leather and I knew that I wanted that same exposure here. Then I got disenchanted with my lack of opportunities here and dropped the ball.
But there's a big difference this time. In 2008, I didn't have Daddy. And I didn't have giz. I didn't have the support and the encouragement that I get from them. I didn't have a leather family. Or the love I have now.
I dropped hard Sunday night when Daddy left. HARD. BUT.... When I woke up this morning, I was happier than I've been in .... maybe since I first met him. (The holidays were really hard on me) It feels like for the first time in a few months things are coming together.
I'm figuring out what I want, where I fit, and how I fit.
I said a few weeks ago I didn't feel like I was leather to Daddy. I wasn't ready to be called leather, didn't deserve it yet, and had too much to learn. Then I realized those were the exact reasons why I was. Yesterday in the car, I said a very similar thing to him about not being a bootblack yet. I was quickly corrected. I still don't yet feel like one. But as I go to people and find folks willing to help me learn, to practice on their boots - it becomes easier to see myself that way, the way he sees me.
In recap: We spent 20 hours in the car together, the three of us. I spoke back a few too many times, but I'm trying to learn to be better. I got closer with giz and feel much more connected with him now. I got to play with a delightfully sadistic woman Saturday night that I never would have thought to ask on my own. I got to play with Daddy Friday and found myself rolling around on the floor of a strange dungeon naked. I sat in a chair for the first time and blacked my first boots on someone else. I got inspired and envious and turned on and connected with something bigger than myself.
I really hope I don't drop the ball with this this time too.
Its just ... different.
I've been building to this for years. Ever since the first time I saw M black boots on another person. It never occured to me that it could be sensual. But it was. And in my head - that was cool, and neat, and amazing but - that was her thing. Not mine. Her path. Not mine. So as she prepared to go to SELF ... I watched her with pride, knowing she would do fine. Knowing she'd found her path, and envious that I still had no idea what mine was. This was in 2008-2009.
Now, today as I write this ... I don't know if this is my thing. This bootblack thing. I know when I touched the boots on another person for the first time Saturday night, something changed. When I put the dauber down, touched where the lather met the leather, something changed. As I watched the dark, dusty leather peak through and the dirt go away, something changed. My for-the-night mentor told me she saw it too. I knew I felt it, inside. I was just in shock that she could see it too.
Sitting here, thinking about it, writing about it... I have this knot in the pit of my stomach. I feel like I'm going to explode from the inside out.
I can't tell you how terrified i was. I was determined I was NOT going to black any boots Saturday night. Daddy had other ideas and I didn't fight them. I cried. I was scared. I pouted - not to him, not in front of him, but on my own terms. I just knew i was going to fuck something up. And I didn't.
I don't know if he noticed - the guy whose boots I did. I didn't know him at all. I didn't know his girlfriend. He wasn't the type of person I would normally have any sexual interest in whatsoever. But sitting there. Touching his boots. I had to lick them. I had to smell them. I had to put my face on them. I told myself going in ... this is not going to be sexual. This is not going to be a scene. And it may not have been - to the extent that some of the other blacks did. But... it was.
I finished. His face - looked happy. I was cleaning up, and saw Daddy. He looked proud. So did giz. I was shaking. I kept cleaning.
In all of the things I've done in this lifestyle this may very well have been a turning point. Or - it may not have been. I said that when I got home from SJW. Back then, in my head I told myself that everything was gonna change when I got home. I had been exposed to leather and I knew that I wanted that same exposure here. Then I got disenchanted with my lack of opportunities here and dropped the ball.
But there's a big difference this time. In 2008, I didn't have Daddy. And I didn't have giz. I didn't have the support and the encouragement that I get from them. I didn't have a leather family. Or the love I have now.
I dropped hard Sunday night when Daddy left. HARD. BUT.... When I woke up this morning, I was happier than I've been in .... maybe since I first met him. (The holidays were really hard on me) It feels like for the first time in a few months things are coming together.
I'm figuring out what I want, where I fit, and how I fit.
I said a few weeks ago I didn't feel like I was leather to Daddy. I wasn't ready to be called leather, didn't deserve it yet, and had too much to learn. Then I realized those were the exact reasons why I was. Yesterday in the car, I said a very similar thing to him about not being a bootblack yet. I was quickly corrected. I still don't yet feel like one. But as I go to people and find folks willing to help me learn, to practice on their boots - it becomes easier to see myself that way, the way he sees me.
In recap: We spent 20 hours in the car together, the three of us. I spoke back a few too many times, but I'm trying to learn to be better. I got closer with giz and feel much more connected with him now. I got to play with a delightfully sadistic woman Saturday night that I never would have thought to ask on my own. I got to play with Daddy Friday and found myself rolling around on the floor of a strange dungeon naked. I sat in a chair for the first time and blacked my first boots on someone else. I got inspired and envious and turned on and connected with something bigger than myself.
I really hope I don't drop the ball with this this time too.