Protocols and Leather Family Values

As an older LeatherMan I have been involved in a number of Leather families. Each family seemed to define itself by its members and the person who facilitated its inception. In a community where identity often falls outside of mainstream classifications, this is not surprising. The common element uniting all of these families, the desire to create a safe and nurturing environment.

Each sir creates his family based on the values he embraces relative to the Leather tradition. For some sirs, protocols define the family. Others feel a physical home is essential in establishing a family. For others, a shared role relative to the Community.

To me, a Leather Family is a place of total security. A place where one knows that he is always valued and respected. It is an environment free of the politics and drama of the mainstream. Bonds founded on trust.

I grew up in a biofamily that was, for all practical purposes, a combat zone. My father ruled with a patriarchal fist. My brothers and sisters were always jockeying for position. Who was the most intelligent? The most talented? The most athletic? As the middle child and the Gay son I soon grew adept at playing a role, too. In short, my biofamily was not much different from other biofamilies, a dysfunctional group where appearances were everything.

A boy in my Leather Family knows that he can share things without judgment. he understands that he can express his deepest feelings and desires and be respected for them. he can take off the mask that filters the gaze of parents and siblings and show himself for who he really is. Sir facilitates this secure environment.

In my Leather Family I relate to each boy differently. And each has his own protocols depending on the bond that we share. My alpha has the most stringent protocols because that is what we negotiated. The newest boy, the fewest protocols. Outside of a few basic protocols that rule my Family, additional protocols grow organically from the interaction I have with each boy.

I consider this application of protocols a post-modern approach to traditional Leather. My alpha has the strictest because W/we have negotiated a more historical approach to the Sir/boy bond. The same use of protocols with my second boy would be absurd, given his long-term partnership. I recognize another boy as a sir-in-training. And the newest, an experienced man who wants the comfort of a strong, Gay Sir. A few of these boys are polyamorous.

I understand roles and monogamy/polyamory to be integral to each boy's sexual identity. To insist that a polyamorous boy adapt to the same protocols as a traditionally-identified boy would be to deny this identity. Like asking a Gay man to live a heterosexual life to learn the mechanics of sex. I believe that my role is to facilitate an environment that will encourage boys to live out their potential, not to limit it. For this reason, protocols are constantly a work in progress.

Protocols are the outward manifestation of the relationship between the Sir and His boy.

The Art of the Mask

For years people in the Community have asked that I teach a workshop on masking. I have finally consented. The three hour workshop will feature a discussion about the history of masking. I will also present some theory prior to delving fully into the basic construction of Leather masks.

There is a $40 donation for the workshop, although I turn away no one at my events. Location upon request. All proceeds to go to the ILS Travel Fund.

The Right Stuff

"Yes I am afraid but I am ready," the handsome Leatherboy responded as he reached up to grab on to the upper bars. "I'm ready!"

the boy told me weeks before that he wanted to feel my single tail on his back. And, knowing that he had just emerged into the scene less than a year ago, I shared his trepidation. he was a bright boy, a man who processed everything in play. When I looked into his eyes I saw both a boy and a potential sir. I wanted to be sure that this foray into hard play reinforced his growing appetite for kink.

I took his head gently and turned it just enough to give him a deep kiss. "you don't have to do this," I whispered. "I am proud of you even if you don't," I added.

"No, Sir. I want to do this. Please, I'm ready!" he said emphatically.

I retreated slowly and looked at his back. I looked at his beautifully rounded ass filling out his Leather shorts. I visually traced my first throw and let the whip fly gently. My single tail made a graceful arc in the air and gently brushed the boy's flesh. he responded quietly. I continued, building the intensity with each throw.

"Are you ok, boy?" I asked him. "Talk to Me!" I said sternly.

"Yes, Sir," he obediently replied.

I approached him and rubbed his back gently with my right hand, then turned his head and kissed him again. I felt his tongue search hard in my opened mouth. I drew back. "Are you Daddy's handsome boy?" I prompted.

"Yes, Sir," he responded.

Backing up again, I resumed the scene with precise throws to each side of his upper back. I watched as each strike left a red trail, raising immediately into a distinct welt. "How are you doing, boy?" I continued to ask. "Talk to me! Are you fine?"

"Yes, Sir!" he responded again. And with each blow thereafter, an emphatic "Yes, Sir!" offered without cue. "Yes, Sir! Yes, Sir!"

I listened to his mantra transform from a plaintive sigh to an aggressive challenge. "Yes, SIR!" he repeated again and again. I witnessed as he prepared himself for the next strike. His body tense, like a young warrior in battle. His breathing steady and with purpose. To encourage his state of anticipation, I altered the rhythm of my throws.

After forty-five minutes of this parlay, I approached him and grabbed him in my arms. he dropped against my body and turned his head slightly. "I want to feel the palms of your hands on my back," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Like this," he demonstrated.

I took one step back and began slapping him with my hands cupped. The blows accentuated the damage left by the whip. "Can you give Me five more?" I asked. "Five more for your Sir?"

"Yes," he responded, breathing in hard.

Taking aim at his the right side of his back, I let the single tail fly again. The cracker bit into his flesh hard.

"ONE!"

I threw the next to his left, aiming for a spot that had not been marred.

"TWO!" Then, "THREE! FOUR! FIVE!" his voice registering each strike with precision.

Recoiling my whip, I hung it loosely around my neck and approached the boy again. Sensing my approach, he fell into my outstretched arms. "Are you Daddy's boy?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, Sir" he answered calmly.

I stroked his head, my fingers running through his thick, dark hair. "Yes, you are Daddy's handsome boy and I am proud to be your Sir."

With a long sigh, he surrendered himself against my proffered chest.

Gay Pride in a Small Town

I spent this past weekend with my partner in Ashland, Oregon. Our bi-annual, theatre pilgrimage to experience the words of the Bard. Much to our surprise, we discovered that it was the first Southern Oregon Pride Parade and Festival weekend.

Although I had promised my partner that this would be a title-free weekend, I always travel with the Leatherman's essentials: boots, vest, and jeans. I also like to bring one of my whips just in case I find an open park where I can practice.

On Saturday morning, rather than see "Hamlet" for a second time, we took part in the festivities. A substantial parade considering that this was the first celebration of its kind. Like any other Pride parade, there were drag queens, supportive Christian churches, and politicians. What was missing was a Leather/Kink presence.

"Keep wearing what you are wearing," two men remarked. "We like what we see." A cruise in Ashland in broad daylight. Throughout the day, more approving looks and smiles in our direction.

It does not take a speech or a sash to be noticed when you are a titleholder. Nor does it take the approval of the Festival's director. Sometimes all it takes is a presence, an openness to those attending the celebration.

Happy Southern Oregon Pride!

In the Company of Women, San Francisco Ms. Leather: October 2nd

Leatherwomen have always played an integral role in my Leather. As a Leatherboy many years ago, the Women in Seattle played harder than the men. Playing beside them in mixed dungeons always challenged myself to plumb the depths of my dark side. Women were there for me when I found myself in an abusive Sir/boy relationship, providing a safe haven where I could rest. Indeed, the first couple of years of my involvement in the community seem to have been shaped more by women than by men.

Attending the San Francisco Ms. Leather Contest last Saturday was once again a lesson in Leather. As I listened to the contest, I realized the diversity of the women in our community. By this I am not referring solely to ethnicity. I am also referring to roles, femme/butch association, and relationship to social defintions of gender. Very different from the traditional men's Leather community where the perceived level of testosterone maintains its dominance as yardstick.

On Saturday night Miranda, our perky MC, held the sold out crowd in the palm of her hand, controlling the pace of the contest with ease and humor. As one versed in theatre, I applaud her improvisational skills. I especially loved the card game that she introduced, although I did feel slighted that I did not win the "squeal like a pig" segment. I was drowned out by an entire sty of pigs on the other side of the Hotel Whitcomb Ballroom.

Like the new Oregon State Ms. Leather, the winner, Leo Perralta, represents the new generation of Leatherwomen. With her friendly demeanor and open smile, I liked her immediately. I especially enjoyed her fantasy, combining elements of play within a humorous narrative that used choreographed dance segments. I don't think I have ever seen a fantasy that used dance as extensively.

Congratulations, Leo! And to all who took part in the San Francisco Ms. Leather contest on Saturday night.