Big Coyote Energy

I’ve touched hundreds of pairs of boots since starting my journey as a baby bootie four years ago. Each pair of boots, or piece of leather has left some kind of impression on me. I see blacking as an exchange of energy, and a way I can be casually intimate with strangers and friends and lovers alike in a way that is safe for me. Blacking takes on many different forms for me. At the stand I’m personable, and approachable. I service my community and their leather. I make them shine and then send them away for their fun and adventures. At home, with my partners, it’s a completely different story. Blacking is intimate, dirty, and sexual. Sometimes it’s an ordeal. “Do you need to do any laundry?” He yelled up from my basement. “Laundry… Yeah! My black hamper in my closet, it’s rectangle shaped.” “This stuff smells like a box, I need to wash it.” It smells like a box… Does the box smell like you? I wondered but didn’t ask. Now he would smell like me. My detergent. My house. My be...

Boot play and blacking is something that is relatively new to me. I understand that as something that is new, and something that is generally done as a service, it may be difficult to tell whether or not what i'm doing is a scene, or a service. When i am doing a boot scene, i would prefer not to be interrupted. I did a scene last night with Daddy where i blacked his (vintage) brand new boots and kept having people approach me to talk. My feelings weren't hurt, but i would like to make a few clarifications on when i would like to be left to enjoy the leather that i'm into. I am complete and utter boot slut, please let me enjoy that. I've put together a few guidelines that will hopefully make it easy for someone to tell if trying to talk to me is a good idea. If you are ever in doubt, just wait 'till i'm done. If my mouth is on leather, leave me alone. This includes everything from a simple kiss to full on tongue-out-sloppy-drippy-boot-worship.  If boots ar...

Yesterday, my boot blacking mentor gave me a small basic kit as a gift. I've very very very recently gotten into boot blacking. At the last Cigars Boots & Chocolate i spoke to one of the boot blacks that attends, and a good friend of mine, @Kingpin. He said if i ever wanted to learn to let him know. Well... i thought about it and decided boot blacking would be something i am very interested in doing. My new mentor and Daddy helped me build a kit. Daddy gave me a few pieces he had from his shoe shine kit. First i did my cuff. Then i did my regular wear boots. Then Daddy did one of his boots and i did the other. Earlier today i cleaned and conditioned my satchel. Here's to doing more boot blacking at Charm City Fetish Fair (in between teaching). Pictures: (right: my new kit) (below: boots before and after. You can see how dirty they were, the leather is actually black, as in the after picture. Not brown  like in the before) (below: my hand covered in polish ;) ). ...

[Erotica]: ----- "Get on your knees." His voice is cold and sterile. It's a demand but there is no anger behind it. I feel his hand thread through my collar and shove me down. I would have been willing to comply, but with my hands uncomfortably bound behind my back, getting on my knees without falling over is a harder task than normal. Gear ties. I hate gear ties. The rubber coating pinches at my skin. I try to rotate my wrists inside them to get them to sit more comfortably. It's a warm sunny day. I should be happy. But i'm not, i'm scared. My knees buckle and i drop my weight. He'll catch me. ..Or he won't. It doesn't really matter anymore. My thought stream is interrupted by the pressure on my neck changing direction. I know what he wants me to do, but i can't do it. I see the bucket sitting out on the grass. It's filled with cold water. It's orange and it's plastic and i hate it. I even have a healthy level of hatred for him...