#bootlicker

[keep-your-boots-on]

[keep-your-boots-on]

The Scent of Obedience

He crawled closer, closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling the sharp, heavy aroma of premium calfskin. Reverently his lips pressed against the polished, stiff leather near the ankle of the right Dehner boot, leaving a faint, warm mark of condensation on the high-gloss shine. With a combination of reverence, obedience and desire he reached out and began to polish those boots starting at the very top right where the tight breeches met the dark, heavy rim of the boot shafts. And with practiced care he gently massaged the leather bring out a rich shine. It was a act of surrender that he had performed often, sometimes daily before he left the office. It was a practiced ritual looking from a distance, crawling close and finally touching those tall boots. The scent and touch were hypnotic, sensual. Knowing he was being ignored and objectified increased his complete surrender. For him those boots spoke to him, he believed that with every stroke of his hand, every touch of his tongue they let out a deep, satisfying groan. When he kissed the toe of a boot he felt as though it was kissing him back. He fed his addiction with the drug of his choice .. my boots. Crumpled suit, trod on loafers and worn socks were the stage where he performed his supplication, his penance for having revealed his fetish and every time he did that he swore to himself never again … but like a true addict he was lying to himself knowing that he biggest fear was it would not happen again. Task completed he crawled away. I never told him too, he chose that final act himself.

[spikespur]

[keep-your-boots-on]

Corporate culture…

He is an addict and I am his drug of choice. It began innocently with an offhand “I’ll do anything ” comment about earning a salary increase and promotion. It lead to this and even though he was uncomfortable with that “anything” the first time and the second time it happened the discomfort went away because I now know he is here after hours out of a hidden desire. Discomfort is now fervour. I know what he wants and so does he. Always dressed in a sharp suit, always entering my office with his head strictly bowed he knows what his task is at the end of the day when he will reach out with respectful hands to begin the ritual of caring for my boots. He be may standing or kneeling but he will waiting for permission to touch them. The shined tassels loafers he polished early are visible to him as a sign and a reminder of his life with me and I love the contrast between his complete deference to the imposing sight of my tight white breeches and tall Dehner boots. He / we are cemented in this modern BDSM dominance of a powerful corporate culture. Outside of my office he is a take charge executive but here he is addicted to a primal, tactile sensation of fine leather, service and obedience and that is where true power over him resides and so he leaned over my desk and gently pressed his lips against the polished, stiff leather near the ankle of the right Dehner boot, leaving a faint, warm mark of condensation on the high-gloss shine and he did that by choice …

Continued later.

[keep-your-boots-on]

No those boots are not going to clean themselves.

[keep-your-boots-on]

Know your place—the place you choose for yourself, not one imposed on you.

These are my thoughts as a man by birth, a man by age, and a gentleman by choice.

My posts are personal reflections. They are not sexual, though they may be sensual to like-minded men. They are written for gay / bisexual or men who are curious about, exploring or are already enjoying their own fetishes, interests, and desires. They are not about BDSM or S&M, nor are they intended to judge or define anyone else’s preferences. My postings reflect my own interests and what I find sensual—especially the boots I collect, enjoy wearing, and appreciate seeing on other men.

[keep-your-boots-on]

Custom Dehner boots! Image inspiration English equestrian art.

[keep-your-boots-on]

Garden chronicles- Weston Gendarmerie boots! There is something erotic, something mysterious about being the second owner and wondering what experiences the original officer may have had in these boots.