Farewell To My Local Bootslave

I recently learned that a beloved local client of mine is now deceased. Bill was one of the rare clients who I saw regularly for a period of twenty years.

I feel compelled to write a Proper Kink Obituary for folks like him, since no one else will. It’s also cathartic for me to be able to chronicle his background and memories. It doesn’t matter if no one else reads this. It’s the point of committing his legacy to some sort of digital memory.

Bill (yes that was his real name because it doesn’t matter now), started to see me right around the time that I opened my studio in 2002. He was into heavy corporal discipline and boot worship, which was and is a dream session for me. We quickly changed our times together to something more interesting: Bill was a larger man and he thought it would be a good idea to have me help in his weight loss journey. He embarked on that, with a good modicum of success. Then he stopped seeing me for a period of time.

When he reemerged, the news was very sad. His wife had committed suicide after learning that her cancer had returned for the third time. Her cause of death wasn’t technically listed as suicide, but after Bill shared with me some details, it became apparent that she overdosed on her pain medication. He understood why she made that choice, but he still missed her terribly.

Our sessions transitioned from meeting at the studio, to having dinner in San Francisco and then retiring to his hotel room for a few hours. I rarely do outcalls, but we had an established relationship. Bill was also experiencing mobility issues at this point in his life. Frankly it was easier for us to be able to go somewhere with less stairs and more elevators.

I enjoyed the conversations we used to have over a nice meal. He had difficulties with his daughter, but he loved his grandchildren immensely. When a great grandchild came along, he was elated. He loved hearing about my kinky life and whatever I had going on at the time.

Starting around 2017, I began to notice him forgetting details we had shared repeatedly over the years. When I would chastise him for not remembering these important facts, he would chalk it up to only looking at me and not really listening. I thought that was fair enough. Others have told me how they sometimes stop hearing my words and just get lost in what they are thinking about me at the time. I began to worry when his personal hygiene seemed to start slacking. His clothing was also no longer clean all the time. I chalked this up to him being a lonely, older man who lived alone.

Then during one of the last times we met up in 2019, he forgot where the hotel was located. This was sort of a big deal since he grew up in San Francisco. He knew the city by heart. He eventually arrived, but the phone call to get him back on track was painful. I feared for the worst at that point. Then COVID happened, and everyone went radio silent.

Bill did not use email after 2010. The only way I could reach him was via his mobile number. This number would change from time to time. He called me in 2021 and I was happy to hear that he was alive. We promised to get together when things were better.

Then in September of 2022, he reached out. I was so happy to hear from him! He discussed how he really wanted to see me. I agreed and we said that we would do so after I returned from Detroit. He mentioned that he had moved. When I asked him what city he was in now, there was a pause. “I don’t know.” I pressed him a bit further, and he simply couldn’t ascertain exactly where he was. It was then that I knew my worst fears had come true.

Unfortunately, his number had changed when I tried to contact him again. Earlier this year I set out trying to find out if something bad had happened. I eventually tracked him down to a memory care facility in the South Bay. I wrote him a letter and mailed it to the location. It was returned at the end of June, unopened. DECEASED was written across the front of the envelope.

I’ll miss Bill’s exuberance the most. He hated the part of him that was kinky, but he made sure to indulge it when possible. We would agree that he could smart off during our sessions, but that he would pay for talking back. He used to love to crawl across the floor on his belly, begging to PLEASE kiss my boots! I, of course, would deny him repeatedly. The maddened look on his face was priceless. He had a terrible comb over and it would become impossibly disarrayed every time he would get flustered. He used to cry out, “WHEN IS THIS URGE GOING TO END?” and I would tell him, “NEVER.” That was at 74.

Bill was 80 years old when he died. He loved Broadway plays, and New York the most. Boots were his jam. He was kind to a fault. He didn’t seem to have the level of dishonesty that embodies many of the clients I have interacted with over the past ten years. He never disappointed me. I’d like to believe that he and mucous are chuckling away somewhere in the afterlife, regaling the tales of their kinky time with The Vinyl Queen.

R.I.P. mucous: Beloved Slave

mucous as a bad piggy.

I haven’t updated my blog in a very long time for a variety of reasons. Sometimes it takes a big life event to make me want to share my thoughts. The news I received yesterday counts in that regard: I found out that my beloved slave and client mucous had passed away. I feel compelled to share about him. There was a part of his life that no one else knew about it. I want it to live on.

mucous was a single gay man without a partner or children. Yes, I said gay. We met due to his sexual orientation and the AIDS crisis of the 80s. He told me that he started to see Pro Dommes because he still wanted to experience penetration, but he didn’t want to take the risk. He was also very big into humiliation. Dominatrices were a perfect fit to scratch the itch he felt inside his mind.

He started seeing me way back in 1999. I was a Baby Domme back then and I really didn’t know all that much. Humiliation was an area of my work that was challenging for me. I know now that it was due to a lack of communication from potential clients, but I digress. mucous made it so easy. He was a small Southern man and the joy he experienced from what I did to him was always apparent: he would laugh when he felt pain or shame. There really isn’t a better combination for a submissive and a Dominant female. I do something to you. You laugh. I think that’s funny. I do something more to you. You laugh more. Wash. Rinse. Repeat!

Over the years, mucous’ interests evolved. He truly embraced what is now my core value: Making me happy is the Number One slave pursuit. He did not have a foot fetish, but he learned to love my feet. He was not into nipple torture, but he became addicted to the sensation. His humiliation desires took even more creative turns: he would bring accessories to our sessions like a pig mask.

I feel fortunate that we were able to capture many of our best times together on video. For a few years, his birthday was immortalized for the camera as I beat him with one cane stroke for every year of his life. mucous started seeing me in his mid-50s so you can do the math about how much caning ensued! He also thoroughly enjoyed having his genitals beat with a paint stirrer. This simple activity was something else we made clips of together.

For the last hour of every session, mucous and I would share during our downtime. It was then that I began to learn exactly how interesting he was. This process didn’t begin in earnest until the last decade, but I’m certainly happy it did. He told me about his early days as a gay man. Of how he had a “Gay Mentor” who showed him the ropes of hook ups. How this man would go to bars and parties with him to indicate who was interested in mucous’ attentions. Of how he would do many things, but he would never allow himself to be tied up…

mucous grew up in a small town in Louisiana, but he spent his formative years in Texas. It fascinated me to hear of the debauchery that took place in such a Conservative part of the country, long before I was alive! He told me how, as a teenager,  he would walk to the library in the early evening hours. How there would ALWAYS be a car that pulled up slowly beside him, and then turned the next corner. How that car would stop and wait with the passenger side window rolled down. How he would approach the vehicle and the man inside would motion for him to join him. Of how he was humiliated and forced to suck cock–and how he loved every minute of it!

He was also a world-traveler. mucous went on a Big Trip many of the years I knew him. He once sent me a photo from the ruins of an ancient whorehouse in Turkey. The admission barrier was the outline of a footprint in the entryway stone. If your foot wasn’t bigger than that, you could not go inside. mucous’ small foot was nestled deep inside in the impression. His comment was, “I guess I wouldn’t have been able to enter, lol.”

mucous was very generous. The gifts he sent me were treasured and useful. From the ten pairs of shoes he once sent me, to the drip irrigation kit that is responsible for my marvelous garden–he was thoughtful and specific in that regard. He would also bring back tokens from his travels. His trip to Egypt saw him arrive with essential oils that he anointed my feet with later in session.

There are many clients who have seen me over the years, but very few have had his track record. For eighteen years we spent time together every quarter. I am truly saddened at the loss of this great human being in this world. May his memory live on in our videos together. mucous, The Laughing Slave shall not be forgot!

Edit: January 2020 See Mucous at the .20 mark of this episode of Sin Cities we appeared in.

This Is Not A Simple Session Request

I don’t often call potential clients out, but I’ve received one too many requests like this as of late, so it’s time for a little bit of education on the subject.

I understand that not every male is submissive. I also know that many fetishists find themselves in a difficult situation because they don’t want to submit, but what they seek is often offered by women who are classified as Dominant. The result is people like me receiving emails for sessions that are incredibly specific and demanding under the auspices of them being “a simple request.” I’m going to break it down for you boys so you can understand my position point by point. Below is the body of the email I received. Mind you, it was sent to a large number of other women as the “undisclosed recipients” marker showed up above my name. THAT is very classy (not) and is a good way to turn me off from the get go. I don’t like being part of your bulk call-out, but I digress:

“I put down simple in the subject because my requests are very simple and straight forward. The person who used to do this for me decided to quit the business and I’ve been out of luck. I am looking for a test session and would like to turn that into a regular thing if it works out.

I am fairly busy man running my business so I’ll get to the point. Here’s what I need:
1 – The session I require is a doormat fantasy session
2 – I like my face to be used as a doormat under large boots
3 – I need black shoe polish or something similar being applied on the soles of the boots so that every inch of my face is black after the session is over
4 – I like my mouth/lips to be wiped on heavily
5 – Finally, I would like a small amount of tooth paste to be put on my teeth and I need the soles of the boots to be used as tooth brush cleaning my teeth with the
tooth paste

If you are the right person for this, please write back to me and let me know that you understand all the points above and have no issues with any of that. If you have questions about these points, ask away.

Whatever your rate is, I’ll be able to pay.
Please let me know.”

1. So this guy’s provider (I’m using that word since I don’t know what her classification is as a sex worker, and yes we are ALL sex workers when it comes down to the nitty gritty) has retired and now he doesn’t have anyone to literally fill her shoes. What most likely happened is they started off with a different version of this session that revolved around boot trampling. He figured out he was really into face-centric boot play and things evolved to their current state. My advice: Don’t get this specific in your requests guys. You aren’t leaving any creativity on my part. This is what we call “SCRIPTING.” Your little male brain doesn’t see the problem with it. I do. I’m not your waitress. I’m not here to cater an order to you. We need to meet half way and this session sounds like it’s all about you and nothing about my happiness (that just sort of matters).

2. Don’t tell me how busy you are. I assume EVERYONE is busy in this day and age. Am I supposed to give you a gold star because of this? Do you think that I will respect you more because you run your own business? If anything I think you’re pathetic for needing to tell me about this fact. Your ego is leading the way and you want me to recognize your accomplishments. Yawn…Once again, once you walk through my door I could care less what you have DONE and it’s all about what you WILL DO FOR ME.

3. There is too much about YOUR NEED. Wrong. I am the one who says I NEED. I know. You’re not submissive so you forget about this and you just get into laundry list mode. Even so, strike that word from your session negotiation vocabulary. “I would like it if” is a much better phrase to enter into a discussion about your interests. Ultimately I will decide what you need. I am the trained professional here.

4. Once we get to the third point, all aspects of simplicity have left the building. What makes you think that I want black shoe polish ON THE BOTTOMS OF MY BOOTS? This sounds messy and a real pain to clean up post-session. The polish won’t stay on the bottoms of my boots, it will migrate elsewhere on the footwear, and I’ll have to make sure it doesn’t get on my flooring. There will need to be towels (which will be ruined after that crap gets on there), and more clean up than usual. Speaking of clean up, you will need to mess up my shower afterwards attempting to remove all of the polish on your face. Great. More work for me. More ruined towels…Also, this whole “every inch of my face is  black” wording is a harbinger of trouble. I can see it now: woman attempts to accommodate this request, but a small patch is NOT covered. Guy sees this and flips out and accuses woman of not doing a good enough job. Leaves her a lousy review and stalks her by sending her nasty emails about how terrible she is. No thank you. I don’t need the potential for that kind of aggravation in my life.

5. The whole toothpaste situation. Once again, I don’t want toothpaste on the bottoms of my boots. This just sounds like more of a sticky mess and problematic clean up.

6. No, you’re not going to pay whatever my rate is. Ultimately you foot guys are cheap and whine incessantly about money. Almost twenty years in this business has taught me that. I don’t believe this statement you’ve made whatsoever.

So now you boys are saying to yourselves, “Thanks for tearing this guy’s request up. You’ve told us what NOT to do. Can you at least tell us what we SHOULD do? You betcha:

If your provider has retired and you grew into an incredibly specific scenario with her, keep in mind that you are NEVER going to be able to 100% recapture what you had together. That’s just the way life goes. If you try to do the same sessions with someone else, you will only see what the current Lady isn’t doing correctly instead of what she IS doing accurately. It becomes a nitpicking scenario that is devoid of joy because “you just want her to get it right.” Instead, when you contact someone new, frame your interests in broad terms. For the guy in this email: “I am into a doormat type fantasy. The provider I saw for x years has retired and I’m looking to establish a relationship with someone knew. I’d like to discuss my fantasy with you and see if we can meet on common ground based on our mutual interests.” Listing every single aspect that you’d like to happen is a recipe for dissatisfaction for both parties. It also means that many of the more experienced Ladies will file your email in the trash immediately.

If you have specific clothing/shoe requests that are super important to your fantasy, then offer to procure them for said Lady. You can inquire as to whether or not she possesses such items, but if not, it’s on you to make props happen.

In closing, keep your initial email requests simple. Understand that I require respect when being contacted. If you’re not submissive, then let me know. I can work with you, but only if I feel like you’re meeting me halfway.

VQ