Friday, June 02, 2017

Leather Recall

Wandering through the isles of the vendor market at IML with Hellion and Gongalu in tow lead to many avenues of amusement.

"My god, the smell!" Gongalu was overall fairly impressed with the quantity and quality of leather to be discovered at the market. Hellion, having been the year before, was possibly less impressed but still equally amused. I was only half shopping. I enjoy looking and poking about at things, but with a leather and gear collection that is already overflowing I'm hard-pressed to find something I want, let alone need. For the first time in years I didn't purchase a single flogger, but then, I didn't find one I thought I really needed to add to my collection.

The leather boys and leather daddies were out in droves. On my left a random man grabs another by his jock strap and starts to finger his ass while they kiss deeply. Yes, I think, to myself, it's IML again.

Part of me is entirely in the moment, small bits of me are floating on the past as we walk down the halls. I think back to almost two years ago now, when I went to the event, but after went back to the home I had then shared with my love. The Author and I had managed to get my name on the list for a bootblack and I had to wait but finally managed to get so I could get a proper blacking of my knee high docs (my knee highs make all the leather boys, bois, and girls jealous).

My particular leather slave for that adventure was sporting cubby ears and had on wrestling half jock. He had placed as an International Boot Black runner up some years before, and I was happy to have him working on my boots. He did good work, too, though he didn't know how to ladder lace and I was left to redo all the strings on my boots later. At least it got done.

To have my boots blacked I had to sit on a chair that was almost like a throne and I had a view of the entire event as I sat there, overlooking the balcony so I could see all the vendors down below, and there in front of me a group of burly bears, rough looking leather men, all oiled up, and smiling and cajoling, with a younger bear somehow in between them.

I watched.

They joked around with him, pushing him back and forth between them. Laughing. He smiled, part of it was shy, part of it was lust, the attention of these four big men all focused on him, he smacked of someone who had found himself in a situation that was somehow perfect and also completely unexpected.

One of the daddies grabbed him by his hair, another stroked his chest, the third pushed him down onto his knees, the fourth undid the zipper on his leather pants, the first pushed his head forward. And so I sat from my throne, my boots getting polished by a leather slave, my hands rested across my corset, my smile one of sheer amusement, as the leather bears managed a half circle jerk, half face fuck. The feeling that this show is for me, for my amusement and pleasure, is strong. This was proper and appropriate, and fully IML.

After my boots had been polished the Author caught up to me. "Did you see that."

"Yep."

That night I eventually got picked up by my love. It would be one of the last nights we would spend in each others arms.

IML is still amusing, but somehow the weekend comes with more emotions than it used to. The memories are excellent, though, and the event still worth it.


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