Boise boys and Ruff-n-Tumble

This weekend reminded me that as Leather and kinkfolk, we are everywhere. A well-attended event in Boise, with a contagious enthusiasm from the uninitiated and the curious.

Boise is a small, liberal city located in the middle of a desert of Mormon towns in southwest Idaho. Steeped in the conservative pioneer history of that religion, the state is a bastion of intolerance that hides under the masque of patriotism. This, in addition to its location and size, prejudiced my expectations. I did not expect to find a burgeoning community of like-minded Gay and Pan folks.

Together with the other Northwest title-holders, Leatherboy dan and Community Bootblack Scout, we arrived on Friday to present classes and demonstrations on Leather history, protocols, ropework, single tails, and bootblacking, with a hearty dollop of electroplay thrown into the mix.

On Saturday at one in the afternoon I conducted a discussion focusing on the history of Gay Leather and moving into the dynamic between a Sir and His boy, the foundation of the Tribe. To complete the class, I held a public negotiation between myself and boy dan. Earlier in the day over breakfast, I told him that I was anxious to give my signal whip a workout on his back, an idea that terrified him. I made my comment while breakfasting with others who would be in attendance.

"But that isn't fair," dan remarked. "How can I say 'No' to a whip scene if the negotiation takes place on stage?"

"you can alway refuse," I answered. "My toy bag will be onstage and I have plenty of things to play with." I smiled, knowing now that boy dan was facing a fear that he had voiced months before during a public dungeon.

(Note to boys: If you tell your Sir about your fears, you are laying a blueprint for future play together.)

As boy dan and I negotiated the scene publicly at the climax of the class, he voiced his trepidation again. "I don't want my back ripped up and bloodied," he said.

"My intention is NOT to bloody you or to split your back open. Trust Me! And you can always tell Me to stop if it becomes too intense. But you won't. you'll see."

Moments later he was standing with arms outstretched under the kiss of my beautiful single tail, its plaited colors moving effortlessly from my hand, curling in the air, to land in the meaty center of his back.

A brave boy.

That evening I faced two nervous but eager boys that I would use in my rope demonstrations. The first was scheduled at 8:45. As soon as I touched the rope to the wrists of the first well-defined boy, he responded. His eyes widened and his voice became soft and almost child-like.

"I like this," he said quietly.

Winding the 8mm hemp around his chest, under his arms, weaving a harness that would attach to the wrist restraint, his body became more and more taut. his lean muscles pulsed against the rope and I could feel myself growing hard in my tight, leather pants.

I watched as he walked up to the mirror at the side of the room to admire himself. "May I wear this for a while?" he asked. "I like this a lot. 'In restraint there is freedom,'" he added, citing an artist that he admired.

I love intelligent boys!

An hour later as I unwound the rope, he sighed in dismay.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "you will be joining in the second demo later," my remark rewarded with a flashing smile.

Shortly before the second demo at midnight, the boys wired up their cocks under my direction. With wires strategically placed through the belt loops of their jeans, we were ready.

Again on stage, the first boy's eyes became focused, intense. And as if to counter his intensity, the second boy grinned from ear to ear. I began by binding the two together wrist to wrist. Then I constructed a dual chest harness so that they were forced to look at each other face to face. As I tied them up, I forced my hand between their chests, rising and falling together in nervous breaths. Finally, I attached the Tens unit. Two separate circuits.

The boys did not disappoint. Working the controls, I played one against another. Laughter against intensity. The softer muscles of one boy (a farm-bred from Idaho Falls) pushing against the lean frame of the other.

I felt as if I were playing two instruments in an improvised, double concerto. To add variation, I suddenly proclaimed loudly, "Oh shit, I forgot which dial belongs to which circuit." And then the fun really started. The combination of rope, electricity, and mind games created an entertaining scene to watch and a satisfying scene for all three participants.

Later, one of them said, referring to the other boy, "I didn't know this guy before but now I feel so close to him. Wow!"

That remark alone made my trip to Boise worthwhile. A player is born.