November 18, 2022 • 26 mins
Interludes are short segments between regular episodes with no editing but WITH leather creaking. It's a chance to hear a little more about what's going on in my life. In this interlude I share one of my erotic stories, "Shine." Leather story time!
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Episode Transcript
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Unknown (00:00):
Welcome to full cow, a podcast about leather kink and
BDSM. My name is edge Mypronouns are he him, and I'm
your host. And this is anotherinterlude, the episode between
episodes offered raw andunedited. And fun fact, this is
actually the fourth try, I hadmaking an interlude. I did one
(00:24):
that was about my experienceright now dating and I felt Oh,
that's a little too personal. SoI took that one down, I did one
about how my pit scent has beenchanging. And then that just
ended up feeling very weird. SoI took that one down. And then I
did one thinking about theprivilege of having space play
space or dungeon space. But itturned really rambling. So I
(00:48):
took that one down. So if you'rea hardcore fan, there are three
secret interludes out there, thelast interludes of fool cow.
Now, perhaps one day, I willshare in some form or another,
maybe some sort of secret bonusthat only the fanciest of fans
can find? Who knows? So this ismy fourth attempt. And it
(01:12):
finally occurred to me that, oh,yeah, I have all kinds of erotic
fiction that I wrote. And then Icould read a story and do a
leather storytime. I was afairly prolific story writer in
the late 20th century, in the1990s, the late 1900s, because
that's what we did. Back then wedidn't really have apps or
(01:34):
websites and video online was,we didn't have the bandwidth for
it. But we had magazines. Andstories were a way for us to
find one another to realize whatour fetishes were, but also to
transmit cultural communityknowledge. And so there was a
lot of writing, and I did a lotof writing.
(01:54):
The story I'm going to sharewith you today is called shine,
and I'm fairly certain it is thelast story I ever wrote. And
likely the last story I willever write simply because media
has changed. And my life haschanged. I actually had to hunt
for the file. So it is includedin my erotic story collection
(02:16):
available on Amazon in Kindleformat for pretty cheap. It's
hard to find, though, it'scalled Stories of edge. And you
have to include leather edgelthr EDG II, I'm pretty sure I
finished the story, sometimes inthe summertime in the early
teens, to sort of round out thatcollection. So it is a story of
(02:37):
a very interesting centralcharacter. A lot of my stories
are driven by ideas that I wantto work out or particular pieces
of knowledge I want to exploreor pass on. And I've always I
mean, I am the main character inthis story. Because I've always,
I've always wanted to be Yoda. Iwant to be Yoda. I'm very much
have this conception of myselfas this, the sage in the woods
(03:00):
who retires from the world, andthen waits for the hero to
arrive to pass on the sacredknowledge that will help the
hero succeed. I am that part ofthe Joseph Campbell heroes saga.
I never want to be IMO. But Iwould love to help some groom
someone for IML. I would love tobe a judge for IML. So I'm
(03:21):
always very interested in kindof being this mysterious, semi
spiritual, weird guide hiding inthe shadows that someone comes
in find.
That's an interestingexploration for another time. So
this story very muchis my fantasy. I will say that
it is my fantasy, and isinflected by some things from my
(03:41):
life not at all reallyautobiography, autobiographical,
though. And now we're going toproceed with storytime.
They say that should you everhave the good fortune to find
yourself restrained to across 10feet from him. Your back will
end up cut neatly into ribbonsas you float one and three
(04:05):
quarter inches off the ground.
blissed by endorphins. They sayto that to spend more than three
minutes under his ropes is towant never to be able to move
again. And tranced from acombination of the way they
caress as they bind. And the wayhe makes it all happen.
Somewhere between architect andWeaver. They say a lot of things
(04:26):
about him and his skills. Theymay all be true, but trust me
nothing and I mean nothingcompares to having him black
your boots. The rest might behyperbole, but that one, that
one I know for sure. Fromexperience.
His name is Solomon, though mostfolks just call him Saul.
(04:48):
I guess every town has itslegend, and he was ours. But
unlike the legends, in someother communities, Saul was
never in the limelight. Sure weall knew him or at least knew of
him andEvery one respected him. But it
didn't enter into any of thetitle contests which he could
have easily won. And he didn'trun any of the clubs which
desperately needed hisleadership. And he wasn't known
(05:08):
to put on shows at bars or playparties. In some ways, he was
the man behind the scenes notcontrolling the show, but
working hard to make sureeveryone on stage looked like a
star.
As with so many legends arestories of him no doubt
outstripped reality, but alsolike so many legends, there was
(05:29):
always a grain of truth in whatwas said. I know, for example,
that when the current IML camethrough town, he spent a whole
day with Saul, the gossipspainted Lord pictures of
complicated scenes, but since Iknew the guys International, Mr.
Miller was staying with, I knowfor a fact that you just hung
out and well talked all day. Iknow too, that it was Saul's
(05:52):
authentic New Orleans policebadge that IML war during his
stepdown that year. Still, Idon't know why a man who can
have any boy he wants, who couldown a whole stable of slaves if
he chose, who is the envy ofmany types in this town still,
blacks boots, it just doesn'tmake sense. I do know he doesn't
(06:13):
do it often. But as much as I'vewatched him studied him, I still
haven't figured out how hechooses the man to receive this
honor. Is it something in theboots themselves? Is he laying
groundwork for his nextconquest? Is it just a whim some
itch he needs to scratch when itflares? Whatever it is, I'm
(06:34):
always quietly thrilled to seehim go to work. Group lacking
afterall is a kind of alchemy,part art, part science part
myth, part ritual, and there'ssomething special about seeing
him endow black boot leatherwith a shine so deep. It makes
it seem like the bootsthemselves have been reborn with
(06:56):
some new inner light.
I remember the first time I sawhim work. It was a Saturday
night and for once there was adecent crowd at the bar. But
dammit there was this one daddythere with his boy being
obnoxious as all fuck, loudoverbearing, demanding, pushing
his boy around in ways thatmight have been consensual, but
(07:19):
still just rubbed me the wrongway. I don't know how much daddy
had had to drink. But if volumeof voice has any correlation to
volume of alcohol consumed, thenI would have to say it was quite
a lot. Brat daddy as I hadturned him in my head was
working himself up into a tizzycarrying on about his boy and
his general superiority makinghimself out to be God's gift.
(07:42):
Not just to boys but to all ofthem in the world over. That's
when Sol emerged from theshadows were apparently hidden
waiting, watching. It didn'tintervene. He just mentioned to
Brad Daddy that it looked likehis boots could use a shine.
Next thing I know they wereheaded over to the boot blacks
cheer for some reason. Everybooth black in town yields that
(08:04):
chair to soul. I'm not sure why.
I don't think he's trained anyof them. I don't ever think any
of them know him all that well.
But there's something unspokenthey're fraternal bond, a
professional courtesy. And whenit comes up, they always take a
break. I reposition myself toget a view of the action. I'll
(08:24):
admit there was a prurientinterest in me, I had to see how
this would go down. And then Iwatched it all washed him brush,
wash, Polish and shine brightdaddy's boots. I don't think I
saw what really happened. Icouldn't have because when Saul
was done brat, Danny was adifferent man, quieter, calmer,
(08:44):
respectful. I couldn't heartheir conversation over the
thumping music of the bar. But Idecided at that moment that in
my mind, soul was the bootwhisper.
I had seen him black six orseven times after that, and
heard from friends about a fewother occasions. Each time,
something in the man in theboots seemed to change.
(09:07):
Sometimes it was just the factthat he left Saul's chair with a
smile on his face. And sometimesthe guy would move to a new city
for presumably, a new and betterlife. Lots of people in the
community sought Saul's advicebut it was something special
when he saw you and your bootsout to offer it.
It works. It was a couple yearsafter that night at the bar
(09:30):
before we actually met theannual leather pride benefit
with a chance to trot out one'sbest dress leathers while
raising funds for localcharities. I had kitted up in my
favorite leather uniform custommade by the local shop. Diners
were the boot of choice for theevening. I looked good, felt
good, and was coming tounderstand what we as a
community really meant and coulddo. It was just that kind of
(09:52):
night. I was standing off to theside of the main room enjoying
the view, hot men paraded backand forth on their way
of the bar, some in heavyleathers and some in just boots
and a jock. Just looking at theKnights assemblage had my cock
in a permanent state of semiarousal. I think I was even
dripping a littlesaw I was walking back from the
(10:13):
bar where he just grabbed abottle of water. He stood out
not just because I always lookedfor him, but more especially
because I don't have so muchleather. He was wearing just a t
shirt jeans and what looks to beWesco job masters. The kiltie
always gives them away. Don'tget me wrong, he was still hot
as fuck. For man in his 50s hewas in good shape, not Jim
(10:34):
chiseled but firm in the kind ofway the most natural men
naturally are. His salt andpepper Flat Top looked crisp,
his white beard trimmed andneat. As he passed me we made
eye contact for just a moment.
They were the most remarkableshade of blue. He had only
(10:55):
walked a few steps past me whenhe stopped turned around how to
care for shine this evening. Iwas caught off guard for a
moment feeling simultaneouslycalled out singled out and
altogether naked. I recovered asbest as I could. Yeah, sure.
Thanks. I'd love that. Okay,give me 20 minutes just
finishing something up at themoment. You got it.
(11:17):
20 minutes.
20 minutes of anticipation.
Seven minutes of doubt. Why me?
Do my gainers looks like shit.
Please don't tell me of anotherbreath. Daddy. How bad do my
boots look? Four minutes offear. What am I getting into
shit? What do I tip him? Do Ihave enough cash on me? Nine
minutes of desire down. Hepicked me. The fucking boot
(11:39):
whisperer picked me.
Saw was ready when I headedover. I introduced myself
couldn't imagine he knew myname. The benefitted set up a
whole row of chairs for thelocal bootblack soul had won all
to himself set off to the leftof the others. A little removed
a little private like sawhimself. As he helped me up into
(12:01):
the chair. I felt like ascendingto the throne. That couldn't
help but notice that his bootslooked pretty beat up my mouth
open before my head could put onthe brakes. It looks like you
could use a shine yourself.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Helooked at me and chuckled as he
knelt down and made sure all histools were just where he wanted
them to be. Now you see someboots are born for the grave.
(12:26):
I didn't know what else to say.
Fortunately, he continued. Yeah,some boots are there just to
serve you to there's nothingleft in them. They give their
whole life just to be worn bythe right man and chuckled with
him. Gotcha. And I know justwhat you mean. I have a whole
different set of daily boots.
Yep. It's just like that.
silence of the slightly awkwardvariety. It was the same
awkwardness I felt at thebarbershop. What do you do? Make
(12:48):
conversation with them focus ontheir work? Sit there like an
idiot or prattle on like anidiot and chose the second
option? I guess. So. Where'd youlearn to bootblack he answered
while carefully inspecting eachof my boots. A small mag
flashlight illuminating hisscrutinizing gaze started with
my dad. I'm a military bratafter that my daddy back when I
(13:11):
was still bottom and well, afterthat picked up some here and
some there. That explains lot.
I've watched you work beforeyou're damn good. He sat back on
his knees. I know. Smile,devilish grin. Well, your boots
are in good shape and I think wecan work them up real nice and
pretty. Sounds good to me. I'lljust let you do your thing.
(13:33):
That's usually a good idea. Thatsmile again. So stuck deaf and
its openness. He picked up hishorsehair brushes and got to
work I watched. I could hear theswish the bristles banishing any
dust or dirt from the bootmother. I enjoyed the swift
movement of his arm suddenlydefined and muscular in the
throes of their task. His headbowed the landing strip on his
(13:57):
flat top was perfect. I'd haveto ask him which barber he went
to his spray bottle, spritz theshaft to my left boot. The clean
scent of saddle soap wafted upto me invoking memories of
service and desire. I havenoticed you don't fire your
polish. He looked up to me withan inquisitive look at you now.
(14:18):
Yeah, I was just wondering mystrong hand slapped cloth to
boot shaft gripped my calveswiped the boot clean. Well, what
I've learned is this, he pauseda moment while getting to work
on the right food. Membership inany community has nothing to do
with the right way to do things.
Rather it involves knowing theterms of the conversation. He
looked up to see what must havebeen a puzzled expression on my
(14:41):
face. Ask a cigar man the rightway to light a cigar and get a
million different answers.
Remove the band. Don't removethe band cut the end punch the
end bite the end off. butanetorch wouldn't match. None of
its right. None of it's wrong.
The key is only knowing why youchoose to do it this way instead
of thatthat so that you can talk to you
all the others who are sodifferent from you, but still
(15:02):
the same. Presto, you're part ofthat community. And so firing.
He smiled while wiping down thebooth and it makes a nice show
but burns up all the good stuffand I'd rather that good stuff
go into your booth. I nodded.
One mystery solved at least.
True to his word. He didn't firethe polish his hands warm with
(15:25):
the kiwi and move to the toe ofmy left boot. My foot could feel
the pressure as his fingersmoved in small tight circles,
leaving just enough Polish pineconversation resumed as he
continued to work this time hetook the lead. Aren't you
usually with that hot littleboy? What's his name? Christian?
Yeah, we were together for timesurprise. You've noticed us?
(15:48):
You're not the only one whowatches his Green was
particularly devilish that timeso where is he today? Oh, we
broke up a couple months agojust didn't work out. He sat
back for a moment looked at mehonestly.
That's a damn shame. continuedhis work on the boots slicking
the polish up the shaft allaround back leaving a black
(16:10):
dullness in its wake.
In the silence of his work, Ithought about Chris.
I had just about managed to filehim away but Saul's question
renewed at all. It was a puzzleI can never manage to solve a
labyrinth from my mind with noexit. I replayed all the same
scenes and tried all thedifferent decisions I could
(16:32):
conceive. The end always playedout the same me a cat, an empty
apartment, a bruised heart and abewildered mind.
I had met Christian throughmutual friends, they thought we
would be a good match. And atfirst it seemed like they were
perfectly right. Krishna was 10years younger than me 28 to my
(16:52):
38. But that didn't seem tomatter. When we met there was
that spark, the kind ofchemistry that it's all too rare
and all too intoxicating. He wasa cup of a man with the sexiest
hairy belly I've ever seen andpert nipples that responded to
the lightest stroke. His mouthwas bottomless, his ass round
(17:12):
and firm, and its back couldtake more flogging than my arm
could give.
More than anything though, Iloved how he fit against me how
he was just the right height formy arm to hold him just the
right height that my cock withnestle into his very crack when
I stood behind them, and thenfolded him in my arms. But less
(17:36):
diseases love is hard. Combinethe two felt increasingly
impossible. In the playroom,things were always good. He'd
spent hours in the sleep sackeating my ass while I enjoyed a
cigar. I'd spent hours makinghim sing with pain. But as our
love grew our play diminished.
I was never quite sure why neverquite sure if the fault was his
(17:59):
or mine. I wish sure though notthe situation the growing gap
between the bedroom and theplayroom steps from each other.
But somehow miles apart, made useach frustrated enough that
little annoyances accumulatedinto friction and then into
fights. And then into screamingmatches.
(18:19):
And each time no matter whostormed out. I found myself
utterly confused. How did ithappen again? Why did we keep
hurting each other? What could Ihave done differently? Why can't
I beat the shit out of the man Ilove? Why doesn't the man I love
when to arrive under my lash.
(18:42):
We finally parted ways, amicablyat least
I hope you never learn this.
The worst thing in the world isnot falling out of love and
breaking up. The worst thing inthe world is being desperately
in love and having to break upanyway.
(19:03):
I came back to find Saul on hisknees looking up at me. I'm not
even sure how long I got lost inthe past. But it was long enough
for him to finish laying downthe polish on both boots. I
spoke again as much to fill thesilence between us as to bring
me back fully into His presence.
Yeah, oh, we just had too manyproblems we couldn't solve. He
nodded and then said, of course,by definition, a problem without
(19:25):
a solution isn't a problem.
Oh, then what is it? Depends. Ifind it's usually an
opportunity. With that he bentdown and kissed the toe of my
left at dinner. He looked up atme works the pile of shit and
just right. With that he began along slow assault on my boot
(19:46):
with his tongue. I was instantlyhard and instantly embarrassed
to have this top. This manlicking my boots it felt it felt
profane and sacredan obscene realization flashed
in my head. This is how thedisciples felt When Jesus washed
their feet.
(20:08):
His tongue bade the toe of myboob press down so I could feel
it. His beard nuzzle the instepas he worked his way up the
shaft, his body contorted as hishead worked its way around to
get at the back. I was inecstasy, I was in awe. I was
enthralled. I hadn't seen him dothis for other men.
And I just didn't know what tomake of it. My kocot did not
(20:30):
seem bothered by such questions,it just frogged and leaked. But
I sat there trying to figure itall out as he finished up the
left left boot, and render thesame service to the right.
And then he polished. I enviedarms that can move so fast, the
touch so so white as to be nonexistent. A glistening shine was
(20:53):
the only evidence left in hisweak opportunity though often
feels like a problem. My earstuned into his words as my eyes
continued to follow his work.
Because we're used to things andOpportunity always means change.
Change is fucking scary shit.
Change requires courage, orblindness. Either way, take the
(21:14):
opportunity make the change andsuddenly what was a huge problem
turns out to be nothing but asignpost to a better life.
He made it sound so simple. Itwasn't.
Then again, nothing changes ifnothing changes, you know? I
nodded compliantly not because Iunderstood or agreed, but only
(21:34):
because it seemed expected.
He sat back to expect his workinspect his work on the left
booth. I noticed that somewherealong the way hits punched his
nose with Polish, and made himlook at once boyish and manly.
Both a child playing with fingerpaints, and a man coming home
from a long day of hard dirtywork. It was utterly endearing.
(21:58):
But while it softened his look,his gaze remained steely his
eyes that same particular shadeof blue, almost icy. He bent
down to work on the right bootand resumed I guess you to just
seemed a good fit. He alwaysreminded me of a boy. I want
some town. I love that boy.
Total to him with every strokeof my whip each time from my
(22:18):
boot on his ass was a loveletter. That's for sure. I
smiled. I didn't know what elseto do, and certainly didn't know
what to say. Saul did. Do youmiss him?
I was glad his head was downintent on birthing a shine. I
didn't want him to see thewistfulness in my eyes when I
(22:38):
replied every day.
I don't blame you if Christiansanything like my boy. And he's
something special. Yes. Yes,yes. I looked out into the crowd
hoping I think to get lost in itto get away from the feeling in
my chest. I didn't have a namefor that feeling. I can only
(23:00):
call it passion plus lovedevotion hurt ache. And for a
moment, I noticed something newthere too. On the side of that
feeling poking out just behindit there was a new question
how did Saul manage to turn loveinto violence
it's stayed a moment and thenwas eclipsed again by the memory
(23:22):
of hurt.
He took out a pair of pantyhoseball them up. Nothing like nylon
to really get a shine on diners.
My look must have beeninquisitive. I don't know all
the physics involved butsomething in the friction of it
is just right kisses the wax soit sweetly melts just so comes
to the Black Mirror. Nice. Ohyeah, just wait. He went to work
(23:42):
spitting on occasion in analmost military fashion. And he
was definitely right about thepantyhose. I've never seen such
a shine in these boots. Not evenwhen crystal I picked them up
from the leather shop. As hefinished up, I tried my best to
recover. I didn't want to leavehis chair maudlin. I was hoping
to still enjoy the event. As hehelped me down from his chair. I
(24:03):
found my feet again literallyand figuratively. I started
pulling out my cash. So how muchdo I owe you? Forget it no
charge. Oh, can I at least buyyou a beer? Thanks, but 22 years
sober here. Oh, sorry. I neverknew Congrats. Thanks. A small
talk was getting smaller. I wasready to leave his presence. Can
(24:24):
I ask you a question? It startedarranging his tools placing each
pack in his proper place withinhis domain. Sure, go right
ahead. Well, like I said, I'vewatched you black before and
I've I've always wondered, howdo you choose? I mean, do you
pick particular men orparticular boots or turn to look
at me his eyes were warm.
(24:49):
It's not really something I canreally explain. Sometimes it's
just something I know needs tobe done. Sorry. Doesn't make any
more sense than that. Oh, that'sokay. I'm just always curious.
As I was turning to leave andresume the benefit which felt a
world away in your case, Iturned back to him fearing some
judgment but still hungry for ananswer. In your case, I'll say
(25:12):
this. You do do a lot ofwatching, but life. Life's not
meant to be watched. It's meantto be lived. His words felt
fatherly and damning all atonce. They stung and prodded. I
recovered as best as I could.
Well, I guess I should go livewith them. Good man. He gave me
a strong pat on the back whichremoved some of the sting of the
(25:35):
words go enjoy.
I did. I did a little at least Imade the rounds of the room
saying hello to friends biddingon a couple of items in the
auction meeting a few newhotties and then I just went
home.
About three weeks later, Iwalked into the playroom to get
(25:55):
my chip was and saw the dangersup on the boot rack. They still
shine like no other boot Iowned. I stood there for a while
lost in their blackness lost inmemories of the night and my
chat with Saul.
I don't know why. But I pickedup the phone and called
Christian. I wasn't sure if Iwanted him to answer or not. And
(26:20):
I almost hung up. But heanswered before I could. The
words. They just spilled fromme.
I miss you
Welcome to full cow, a podcast about leather kink and
BDSM. My name is edge Mypronouns are he him, and I'm
your host. And this is anotherinterlude, the episode between
episodes offered raw andunedited. And fun fact, this is
actually the fourth try, I hadmaking an interlude. I did one
(00:24):
that was about my experienceright now dating and I felt Oh,
that's a little too personal. SoI took that one down, I did one
about how my pit scent has beenchanging. And then that just
ended up feeling very weird. SoI took that one down. And then I
did one thinking about theprivilege of having space play
space or dungeon space. But itturned really rambling. So I
(00:48):
took that one down. So if you'rea hardcore fan, there are three
secret interludes out there, thelast interludes of fool cow.
Now, perhaps one day, I willshare in some form or another,
maybe some sort of secret bonusthat only the fanciest of fans
can find? Who knows? So this ismy fourth attempt. And it
(01:12):
finally occurred to me that, oh,yeah, I have all kinds of erotic
fiction that I wrote. And then Icould read a story and do a
leather storytime. I was afairly prolific story writer in
the late 20th century, in the1990s, the late 1900s, because
that's what we did. Back then wedidn't really have apps or
(01:34):
websites and video online was,we didn't have the bandwidth for
it. But we had magazines. Andstories were a way for us to
find one another to realize whatour fetishes were, but also to
transmit cultural communityknowledge. And so there was a
lot of writing, and I did a lotof writing.
(01:54):
The story I'm going to sharewith you today is called shine,
and I'm fairly certain it is thelast story I ever wrote. And
likely the last story I willever write simply because media
has changed. And my life haschanged. I actually had to hunt
for the file. So it is includedin my erotic story collection
(02:16):
available on Amazon in Kindleformat for pretty cheap. It's
hard to find, though, it'scalled Stories of edge. And you
have to include leather edgelthr EDG II, I'm pretty sure I
finished the story, sometimes inthe summertime in the early
teens, to sort of round out thatcollection. So it is a story of
(02:37):
a very interesting centralcharacter. A lot of my stories
are driven by ideas that I wantto work out or particular pieces
of knowledge I want to exploreor pass on. And I've always I
mean, I am the main character inthis story. Because I've always,
I've always wanted to be Yoda. Iwant to be Yoda. I'm very much
have this conception of myselfas this, the sage in the woods
(03:00):
who retires from the world, andthen waits for the hero to
arrive to pass on the sacredknowledge that will help the
hero succeed. I am that part ofthe Joseph Campbell heroes saga.
I never want to be IMO. But Iwould love to help some groom
someone for IML. I would love tobe a judge for IML. So I'm
(03:21):
always very interested in kindof being this mysterious, semi
spiritual, weird guide hiding inthe shadows that someone comes
in find.
That's an interestingexploration for another time. So
this story very muchis my fantasy. I will say that
it is my fantasy, and isinflected by some things from my
(03:41):
life not at all reallyautobiography, autobiographical,
though. And now we're going toproceed with storytime.
They say that should you everhave the good fortune to find
yourself restrained to across 10feet from him. Your back will
end up cut neatly into ribbonsas you float one and three
(04:05):
quarter inches off the ground.
blissed by endorphins. They sayto that to spend more than three
minutes under his ropes is towant never to be able to move
again. And tranced from acombination of the way they
caress as they bind. And the wayhe makes it all happen.
Somewhere between architect andWeaver. They say a lot of things
(04:26):
about him and his skills. Theymay all be true, but trust me
nothing and I mean nothingcompares to having him black
your boots. The rest might behyperbole, but that one, that
one I know for sure. Fromexperience.
His name is Solomon, though mostfolks just call him Saul.
(04:48):
I guess every town has itslegend, and he was ours. But
unlike the legends, in someother communities, Saul was
never in the limelight. Sure weall knew him or at least knew of
him andEvery one respected him. But it
didn't enter into any of thetitle contests which he could
have easily won. And he didn'trun any of the clubs which
desperately needed hisleadership. And he wasn't known
(05:08):
to put on shows at bars or playparties. In some ways, he was
the man behind the scenes notcontrolling the show, but
working hard to make sureeveryone on stage looked like a
star.
As with so many legends arestories of him no doubt
outstripped reality, but alsolike so many legends, there was
(05:29):
always a grain of truth in whatwas said. I know, for example,
that when the current IML camethrough town, he spent a whole
day with Saul, the gossipspainted Lord pictures of
complicated scenes, but since Iknew the guys International, Mr.
Miller was staying with, I knowfor a fact that you just hung
out and well talked all day. Iknow too, that it was Saul's
(05:52):
authentic New Orleans policebadge that IML war during his
stepdown that year. Still, Idon't know why a man who can
have any boy he wants, who couldown a whole stable of slaves if
he chose, who is the envy ofmany types in this town still,
blacks boots, it just doesn'tmake sense. I do know he doesn't
(06:13):
do it often. But as much as I'vewatched him studied him, I still
haven't figured out how hechooses the man to receive this
honor. Is it something in theboots themselves? Is he laying
groundwork for his nextconquest? Is it just a whim some
itch he needs to scratch when itflares? Whatever it is, I'm
(06:34):
always quietly thrilled to seehim go to work. Group lacking
afterall is a kind of alchemy,part art, part science part
myth, part ritual, and there'ssomething special about seeing
him endow black boot leatherwith a shine so deep. It makes
it seem like the bootsthemselves have been reborn with
(06:56):
some new inner light.
I remember the first time I sawhim work. It was a Saturday
night and for once there was adecent crowd at the bar. But
dammit there was this one daddythere with his boy being
obnoxious as all fuck, loudoverbearing, demanding, pushing
his boy around in ways thatmight have been consensual, but
(07:19):
still just rubbed me the wrongway. I don't know how much daddy
had had to drink. But if volumeof voice has any correlation to
volume of alcohol consumed, thenI would have to say it was quite
a lot. Brat daddy as I hadturned him in my head was
working himself up into a tizzycarrying on about his boy and
his general superiority makinghimself out to be God's gift.
(07:42):
Not just to boys but to all ofthem in the world over. That's
when Sol emerged from theshadows were apparently hidden
waiting, watching. It didn'tintervene. He just mentioned to
Brad Daddy that it looked likehis boots could use a shine.
Next thing I know they wereheaded over to the boot blacks
cheer for some reason. Everybooth black in town yields that
(08:04):
chair to soul. I'm not sure why.
I don't think he's trained anyof them. I don't ever think any
of them know him all that well.
But there's something unspokenthey're fraternal bond, a
professional courtesy. And whenit comes up, they always take a
break. I reposition myself toget a view of the action. I'll
(08:24):
admit there was a prurientinterest in me, I had to see how
this would go down. And then Iwatched it all washed him brush,
wash, Polish and shine brightdaddy's boots. I don't think I
saw what really happened. Icouldn't have because when Saul
was done brat, Danny was adifferent man, quieter, calmer,
(08:44):
respectful. I couldn't heartheir conversation over the
thumping music of the bar. But Idecided at that moment that in
my mind, soul was the bootwhisper.
I had seen him black six orseven times after that, and
heard from friends about a fewother occasions. Each time,
something in the man in theboots seemed to change.
(09:07):
Sometimes it was just the factthat he left Saul's chair with a
smile on his face. And sometimesthe guy would move to a new city
for presumably, a new and betterlife. Lots of people in the
community sought Saul's advicebut it was something special
when he saw you and your bootsout to offer it.
It works. It was a couple yearsafter that night at the bar
(09:30):
before we actually met theannual leather pride benefit
with a chance to trot out one'sbest dress leathers while
raising funds for localcharities. I had kitted up in my
favorite leather uniform custommade by the local shop. Diners
were the boot of choice for theevening. I looked good, felt
good, and was coming tounderstand what we as a
community really meant and coulddo. It was just that kind of
(09:52):
night. I was standing off to theside of the main room enjoying
the view, hot men paraded backand forth on their way
of the bar, some in heavyleathers and some in just boots
and a jock. Just looking at theKnights assemblage had my cock
in a permanent state of semiarousal. I think I was even
dripping a littlesaw I was walking back from the
(10:13):
bar where he just grabbed abottle of water. He stood out
not just because I always lookedfor him, but more especially
because I don't have so muchleather. He was wearing just a t
shirt jeans and what looks to beWesco job masters. The kiltie
always gives them away. Don'tget me wrong, he was still hot
as fuck. For man in his 50s hewas in good shape, not Jim
(10:34):
chiseled but firm in the kind ofway the most natural men
naturally are. His salt andpepper Flat Top looked crisp,
his white beard trimmed andneat. As he passed me we made
eye contact for just a moment.
They were the most remarkableshade of blue. He had only
(10:55):
walked a few steps past me whenhe stopped turned around how to
care for shine this evening. Iwas caught off guard for a
moment feeling simultaneouslycalled out singled out and
altogether naked. I recovered asbest as I could. Yeah, sure.
Thanks. I'd love that. Okay,give me 20 minutes just
finishing something up at themoment. You got it.
(11:17):
20 minutes.
20 minutes of anticipation.
Seven minutes of doubt. Why me?
Do my gainers looks like shit.
Please don't tell me of anotherbreath. Daddy. How bad do my
boots look? Four minutes offear. What am I getting into
shit? What do I tip him? Do Ihave enough cash on me? Nine
minutes of desire down. Hepicked me. The fucking boot
(11:39):
whisperer picked me.
Saw was ready when I headedover. I introduced myself
couldn't imagine he knew myname. The benefitted set up a
whole row of chairs for thelocal bootblack soul had won all
to himself set off to the leftof the others. A little removed
a little private like sawhimself. As he helped me up into
(12:01):
the chair. I felt like ascendingto the throne. That couldn't
help but notice that his bootslooked pretty beat up my mouth
open before my head could put onthe brakes. It looks like you
could use a shine yourself.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Helooked at me and chuckled as he
knelt down and made sure all histools were just where he wanted
them to be. Now you see someboots are born for the grave.
(12:26):
I didn't know what else to say.
Fortunately, he continued. Yeah,some boots are there just to
serve you to there's nothingleft in them. They give their
whole life just to be worn bythe right man and chuckled with
him. Gotcha. And I know justwhat you mean. I have a whole
different set of daily boots.
Yep. It's just like that.
silence of the slightly awkwardvariety. It was the same
awkwardness I felt at thebarbershop. What do you do? Make
(12:48):
conversation with them focus ontheir work? Sit there like an
idiot or prattle on like anidiot and chose the second
option? I guess. So. Where'd youlearn to bootblack he answered
while carefully inspecting eachof my boots. A small mag
flashlight illuminating hisscrutinizing gaze started with
my dad. I'm a military bratafter that my daddy back when I
(13:11):
was still bottom and well, afterthat picked up some here and
some there. That explains lot.
I've watched you work beforeyou're damn good. He sat back on
his knees. I know. Smile,devilish grin. Well, your boots
are in good shape and I think wecan work them up real nice and
pretty. Sounds good to me. I'lljust let you do your thing.
(13:33):
That's usually a good idea. Thatsmile again. So stuck deaf and
its openness. He picked up hishorsehair brushes and got to
work I watched. I could hear theswish the bristles banishing any
dust or dirt from the bootmother. I enjoyed the swift
movement of his arm suddenlydefined and muscular in the
throes of their task. His headbowed the landing strip on his
(13:57):
flat top was perfect. I'd haveto ask him which barber he went
to his spray bottle, spritz theshaft to my left boot. The clean
scent of saddle soap wafted upto me invoking memories of
service and desire. I havenoticed you don't fire your
polish. He looked up to me withan inquisitive look at you now.
(14:18):
Yeah, I was just wondering mystrong hand slapped cloth to
boot shaft gripped my calveswiped the boot clean. Well, what
I've learned is this, he pauseda moment while getting to work
on the right food. Membership inany community has nothing to do
with the right way to do things.
Rather it involves knowing theterms of the conversation. He
looked up to see what must havebeen a puzzled expression on my
(14:41):
face. Ask a cigar man the rightway to light a cigar and get a
million different answers.
Remove the band. Don't removethe band cut the end punch the
end bite the end off. butanetorch wouldn't match. None of
its right. None of it's wrong.
The key is only knowing why youchoose to do it this way instead
of thatthat so that you can talk to you
all the others who are sodifferent from you, but still
(15:02):
the same. Presto, you're part ofthat community. And so firing.
He smiled while wiping down thebooth and it makes a nice show
but burns up all the good stuffand I'd rather that good stuff
go into your booth. I nodded.
One mystery solved at least.
True to his word. He didn't firethe polish his hands warm with
(15:25):
the kiwi and move to the toe ofmy left boot. My foot could feel
the pressure as his fingersmoved in small tight circles,
leaving just enough Polish pineconversation resumed as he
continued to work this time hetook the lead. Aren't you
usually with that hot littleboy? What's his name? Christian?
Yeah, we were together for timesurprise. You've noticed us?
(15:48):
You're not the only one whowatches his Green was
particularly devilish that timeso where is he today? Oh, we
broke up a couple months agojust didn't work out. He sat
back for a moment looked at mehonestly.
That's a damn shame. continuedhis work on the boots slicking
the polish up the shaft allaround back leaving a black
(16:10):
dullness in its wake.
In the silence of his work, Ithought about Chris.
I had just about managed to filehim away but Saul's question
renewed at all. It was a puzzleI can never manage to solve a
labyrinth from my mind with noexit. I replayed all the same
scenes and tried all thedifferent decisions I could
(16:32):
conceive. The end always playedout the same me a cat, an empty
apartment, a bruised heart and abewildered mind.
I had met Christian throughmutual friends, they thought we
would be a good match. And atfirst it seemed like they were
perfectly right. Krishna was 10years younger than me 28 to my
(16:52):
38. But that didn't seem tomatter. When we met there was
that spark, the kind ofchemistry that it's all too rare
and all too intoxicating. He wasa cup of a man with the sexiest
hairy belly I've ever seen andpert nipples that responded to
the lightest stroke. His mouthwas bottomless, his ass round
(17:12):
and firm, and its back couldtake more flogging than my arm
could give.
More than anything though, Iloved how he fit against me how
he was just the right height formy arm to hold him just the
right height that my cock withnestle into his very crack when
I stood behind them, and thenfolded him in my arms. But less
(17:36):
diseases love is hard. Combinethe two felt increasingly
impossible. In the playroom,things were always good. He'd
spent hours in the sleep sackeating my ass while I enjoyed a
cigar. I'd spent hours makinghim sing with pain. But as our
love grew our play diminished.
I was never quite sure why neverquite sure if the fault was his
(17:59):
or mine. I wish sure though notthe situation the growing gap
between the bedroom and theplayroom steps from each other.
But somehow miles apart, made useach frustrated enough that
little annoyances accumulatedinto friction and then into
fights. And then into screamingmatches.
(18:19):
And each time no matter whostormed out. I found myself
utterly confused. How did ithappen again? Why did we keep
hurting each other? What could Ihave done differently? Why can't
I beat the shit out of the man Ilove? Why doesn't the man I love
when to arrive under my lash.
(18:42):
We finally parted ways, amicablyat least
I hope you never learn this.
The worst thing in the world isnot falling out of love and
breaking up. The worst thing inthe world is being desperately
in love and having to break upanyway.
(19:03):
I came back to find Saul on hisknees looking up at me. I'm not
even sure how long I got lost inthe past. But it was long enough
for him to finish laying downthe polish on both boots. I
spoke again as much to fill thesilence between us as to bring
me back fully into His presence.
Yeah, oh, we just had too manyproblems we couldn't solve. He
nodded and then said, of course,by definition, a problem without
(19:25):
a solution isn't a problem.
Oh, then what is it? Depends. Ifind it's usually an
opportunity. With that he bentdown and kissed the toe of my
left at dinner. He looked up atme works the pile of shit and
just right. With that he began along slow assault on my boot
(19:46):
with his tongue. I was instantlyhard and instantly embarrassed
to have this top. This manlicking my boots it felt it felt
profane and sacredan obscene realization flashed
in my head. This is how thedisciples felt When Jesus washed
their feet.
(20:08):
His tongue bade the toe of myboob press down so I could feel
it. His beard nuzzle the instepas he worked his way up the
shaft, his body contorted as hishead worked its way around to
get at the back. I was inecstasy, I was in awe. I was
enthralled. I hadn't seen him dothis for other men.
And I just didn't know what tomake of it. My kocot did not
(20:30):
seem bothered by such questions,it just frogged and leaked. But
I sat there trying to figure itall out as he finished up the
left left boot, and render thesame service to the right.
And then he polished. I enviedarms that can move so fast, the
touch so so white as to be nonexistent. A glistening shine was
(20:53):
the only evidence left in hisweak opportunity though often
feels like a problem. My earstuned into his words as my eyes
continued to follow his work.
Because we're used to things andOpportunity always means change.
Change is fucking scary shit.
Change requires courage, orblindness. Either way, take the
(21:14):
opportunity make the change andsuddenly what was a huge problem
turns out to be nothing but asignpost to a better life.
He made it sound so simple. Itwasn't.
Then again, nothing changes ifnothing changes, you know? I
nodded compliantly not because Iunderstood or agreed, but only
(21:34):
because it seemed expected.
He sat back to expect his workinspect his work on the left
booth. I noticed that somewherealong the way hits punched his
nose with Polish, and made himlook at once boyish and manly.
Both a child playing with fingerpaints, and a man coming home
from a long day of hard dirtywork. It was utterly endearing.
(21:58):
But while it softened his look,his gaze remained steely his
eyes that same particular shadeof blue, almost icy. He bent
down to work on the right bootand resumed I guess you to just
seemed a good fit. He alwaysreminded me of a boy. I want
some town. I love that boy.
Total to him with every strokeof my whip each time from my
(22:18):
boot on his ass was a loveletter. That's for sure. I
smiled. I didn't know what elseto do, and certainly didn't know
what to say. Saul did. Do youmiss him?
I was glad his head was downintent on birthing a shine. I
didn't want him to see thewistfulness in my eyes when I
(22:38):
replied every day.
I don't blame you if Christiansanything like my boy. And he's
something special. Yes. Yes,yes. I looked out into the crowd
hoping I think to get lost in itto get away from the feeling in
my chest. I didn't have a namefor that feeling. I can only
(23:00):
call it passion plus lovedevotion hurt ache. And for a
moment, I noticed something newthere too. On the side of that
feeling poking out just behindit there was a new question
how did Saul manage to turn loveinto violence
it's stayed a moment and thenwas eclipsed again by the memory
(23:22):
of hurt.
He took out a pair of pantyhoseball them up. Nothing like nylon
to really get a shine on diners.
My look must have beeninquisitive. I don't know all
the physics involved butsomething in the friction of it
is just right kisses the wax soit sweetly melts just so comes
to the Black Mirror. Nice. Ohyeah, just wait. He went to work
(23:42):
spitting on occasion in analmost military fashion. And he
was definitely right about thepantyhose. I've never seen such
a shine in these boots. Not evenwhen crystal I picked them up
from the leather shop. As hefinished up, I tried my best to
recover. I didn't want to leavehis chair maudlin. I was hoping
to still enjoy the event. As hehelped me down from his chair. I
(24:03):
found my feet again literallyand figuratively. I started
pulling out my cash. So how muchdo I owe you? Forget it no
charge. Oh, can I at least buyyou a beer? Thanks, but 22 years
sober here. Oh, sorry. I neverknew Congrats. Thanks. A small
talk was getting smaller. I wasready to leave his presence. Can
(24:24):
I ask you a question? It startedarranging his tools placing each
pack in his proper place withinhis domain. Sure, go right
ahead. Well, like I said, I'vewatched you black before and
I've I've always wondered, howdo you choose? I mean, do you
pick particular men orparticular boots or turn to look
at me his eyes were warm.
(24:49):
It's not really something I canreally explain. Sometimes it's
just something I know needs tobe done. Sorry. Doesn't make any
more sense than that. Oh, that'sokay. I'm just always curious.
As I was turning to leave andresume the benefit which felt a
world away in your case, Iturned back to him fearing some
judgment but still hungry for ananswer. In your case, I'll say
(25:12):
this. You do do a lot ofwatching, but life. Life's not
meant to be watched. It's meantto be lived. His words felt
fatherly and damning all atonce. They stung and prodded. I
recovered as best as I could.
Well, I guess I should go livewith them. Good man. He gave me
a strong pat on the back whichremoved some of the sting of the
(25:35):
words go enjoy.
I did. I did a little at least Imade the rounds of the room
saying hello to friends biddingon a couple of items in the
auction meeting a few newhotties and then I just went
home.
About three weeks later, Iwalked into the playroom to get
(25:55):
my chip was and saw the dangersup on the boot rack. They still
shine like no other boot Iowned. I stood there for a while
lost in their blackness lost inmemories of the night and my
chat with Saul.
I don't know why. But I pickedup the phone and called
Christian. I wasn't sure if Iwanted him to answer or not. And
(26:20):
I almost hung up. But heanswered before I could. The
words. They just spilled fromme.
I miss you
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