Friday, June 03, 2011

Back at the IML

One thing I learned from spending a weekend with people into leather and rope: people into leather and rope will notice everything about leather and rope. On the way down to the IML on Friday with the Electrician, one of the gatekeepers commented “Your boots are laced wrong.”

I looked down, thinking he said my boots were untied, but in fact what he had said was that my boots were laced incorrectly. It took a moment for this to hit me and then I was a little miffed. Granted I’m probably not the best boot lacer in the world, and when I had originally laced up this pair of Doc Martins I may well have been hung over, but they had been laced and doing just fine for several months now, so why should I worry?

While we walked I sort of regretted wearing a short skirt that would show off my boots, as I had the sense that everyone was now looking at my boots. Paranoia is fantastic.

After four hours of walking around the market on Friday it was time for dinner. The magic box of knowledge, upon consultation, spat out the location of a Mexican place within walking distance, so the Electrician and I headed in that general direction. I made an offhand comment about my feet being sore.

The Electrician looked at my boots.

“That’s because your boots aren’t tight enough.”

“Not you too.”

He shrugged. I stewed.

The next day at Shibaricon, while waiting to learn how to tie rope harnesses and dildos, I mentioned that the leather men and leather people had pointed out that my boots were apparently a horrific catastrophe.

“Oh, yeah; I noticed that when I sat down,” said the spiked-hair boy next to me. “You really need to fix the laces.”

Fine, fine. I was spending the weekend with the two groups of people on the planet who would take notice of my boots and the laces, fine.

The next morning, the lovely Bard rolled over in bed and said, “You know what I was thinking?”


“We should go to IML.”

I had been trying to convince the Bard to take a bit of time to enjoy the experience and was happy that she wanted to go. I checked in and found the Electrician would also be there, and sent a message to let him know that we would look about for him as we browsed through the aisles.

The Bard was on a mission: she wanted to rope and little would dissuade her. She was also looking for books. I was sure the two could be found. With me as a guide I took her into the depths of the market and we went hunting for rope and books and the Electrician, who finally appeared after a long hunt at the end of an isle of leather bodysuits, talking to friends. Once he disengaged I tugged his arms and pointed at the boots.

“I can’t take it anymore,” I told him. “Everyone says they are wrong. I want the Leather Men to fix it.”

He laughed at me and shrugged. “Come this way. I’ll hook you up.”

And he did. It is fortunate that the Electrician is so well…connected… and within a few minutes I had a nice leather boy at my feet, quickly pulling out laces and giving me options for how to retie them.

“Whatever works.” I said to him.

He drew in a breath as he looked at the tongue of my boot.

“Was it really that bad?”

“I’m going to lace it up with bars; it will undo some of the damage?” I sulked as he pulled my foot firmly between his legs and went about the task of lacing. He was quick and sure fingered and did a damn fine job. I was jealous and forced to admit when he was finished, not only did it look better, but felt better as well.

“What do I owe you I ask?” as the Electrician smiled smugly, being right about the lacing.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. You could buy some raffle tickets if you’d like.”

“What are my options?”

“Well, you can get five for five dollars, or for ten dollars men can get their inseam, or women can get a bust's worth.”

I pointed to the Bard. “Can I get her bust's worth?” In a competition of boobies the Bard will always win, having the most wonderfully exquisite plump breasts in the vicinity at the moment.

“If she doesn’t mind.”

“Go right ahead.” The Bard said with a smile.

I pulled out a ten and passed it off, while the raffle ticket roll came out.

The lacer looked at the Bard and asked “do you mind if I put my face between your breasts?”

“I don’t if you don’t.”

“It really does make this a lot more fun.” And with that he dove in and proceeded to administer a very enthusiastic motor-boating to an amused and smiling Bard, while I got at least two yards worth of raffle tickets.

The Bard and I thanked the Electrician and our borrowed lacer, said goodbye and walked back off into the market to get lost among the stacks of leather and toys; amused and satisfied with the market and the happy openness of the Leather Men.

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