Only Two Words

Looks like I'm getting back to it! I have requests now, and have remade The List. So I present to you a new story.

What would it look like if my Mistress took me to a club? I have a list of fetishes. All I had to do was write.

Please enjoy.

Only Two Words

Service, furniture, and (of course) boots

Hello faithful reader and random assortment of delightful pervs!

I've decided to take a more active role in the universe, and as such I made a twitter account. You can reach me now at @Boots_EBR. I'm funny, I promise. And I take requests through twitter now. Requests like this one.

I didn't have much to work with... pretty boys, service submission, boots... but it was enough to be inspiring. I hope you like it.

The next pair

Objects don't speak

Today, I have a request. I love requests.

I don't know how to explain my process. Someone asked, and I didn't have an answer. All I could tell them was that I just let the idea simmer for a bit, then the story jumps into my head with a basic structure, and grows once I start typing. I don't know how else to explain it. I have no other words.

And the best way I can tell if I did a good job is by figuring out whether or not a story turns ME on. And this one... does.

Objects don't speak

Inverted Enema

I had this image one night, as I was about to go to sleep. Hanging by my ankles, holding in an enema. That would be bad.

But it could be worse...

Hold on tight

Going for the Jugular

Going for the jugular. 

The most taboo of all fantasies. 

The one that turns you on but that you would never, ever do. 

The one you’re most ashamed to admit. 

Wow. That’s a hefty request. I’m going to do it, but consider this your fair warning: don’t click past the cut if you don’t want something utterly depraved, disgusting, and utterly fantasy. It’s not going to be entirely consensual, it’s sure as hell not safe or sane… It kind of breaks my own rules. But fantasies do that.

This is MY fantasy. It’s not one I want to have happen.  

One I'm ashamed of

The Boots that Bother Me

I don't know if you care, but I'm going to talk a bit about my process.

You see, I'm not interested in writing the simple and straightforward erotica. There's plenty of that out there. I want to write the more cerebral stuff. I want to write the stuff that looks from a different perspective, that looks at the world through a different lens. Maybe I'm kidding myself about that, maybe I'm not. But take today's story: I could have focused on all the things that are actually happening to the narrator. Instead, I focused on the one thing that WASN'T happening, the one thing that actually BOTHERED him.

I hope you like it.

It's the Boots that bother me

A real fantasy

I have been really hard on myself lately. Stuck in my head, unable to write anything. I told myself I was waiting for inspiration, and maybe I was. But nothing was inspiring me. I used to write a story every day, and now I'm lucky to get one or two a week. I thought I'd lost my touch.

I can't say that's over; all I can say is that today, I was able to take an all important first step. And I was able to take it because a lovely and wonderful lady gave me a request. She asked me to write something 'real.' Something that was all me, with no obfuscation. No hiding behind anything else, no trying to tailor the story to anyone. She wanted a fantasy that was all me.

I might keep trying those, keep writing more and more of them. It might at least get me going a bit. But first, I have her story. The real me.

I, Bootlicker

Important questions

I don't know where this story comes from. I just kind of thought of it this morning while I was getting up. The look on her face as she spoke, the smirk in her eyes, the tease in her tone... they were all there, ready to go, waiting for me to sit down and start writing.

I still need more requests. But in the meantime, please enjoy....

Important Questions

A moment in time

Today's story is simple. Gentle. Relaxing. Is it romantic? Does it live up the holiday?

A moment in time

At your core

I feel bad not writing.

I don't just mean here. I mean any time I don't write, I feel bad. But I do feel uninspired lately. Hopefully, it won't last. Hopefully, it will pass. And hopefully, it will get warmer here. It's so cold here at EbR HQ that we can't even do any fire play; the flames keep freezing.

But that's neither here nor there. Today's writing is a nice, gentle little hypnotism. I have no idea if it would work or not.
Then again, I DO love licking boots...

At your core

Nothing to complain about

It's good to know that I'm not the only one who gets a secret perverted smile every time he hears the phrase "Boot Camp." The military can be so sexy. If it wasn't for all that 'people shoot at you' stuff, and if it worked the way fantasies do.... well, this particular bootlicker might just find himself enlisting.

Alas, reality continues to refuse to conform to my fantasies. So I'm stuck with just writing the fantasies. Today's is for someone else, someone who seems to share a lot of the same interests. Hopefully, he will enjoy this entry...

Nothing to Complain About

Piercing for Painful Pleasure

Today's story was fun to write. I always liked the idea of the way she stops him from talking (you'll see!). I've never done it or seen it done, but it sounds so awesome.

I don't really have much to say, other than that this is, once again, an 'unrequested request'; I wrote it for someone on my friends list who didn't ask for a story. I hope she enjoys it.

I'm finding that I REALLY like doing things this way. It's getting to the point that I'd almost rather people just say "hey, write me a story" and let me see their list of fetishes and interests....

We'll see.

Piercing for Painful Pleasure

Power of the Pole dance

This started as something else. I thought I was going to do another 'confession of a bootlicker' entry. But as the story developed, I realized it was something else. I'm worried that it's a bit self indulgent, kind of the standard fantasy that most men have when they go to a strip club. But then again, it IS a fantasy.

This is technically a request, but it was a request for me to write something to my own fetish. She suggested a man at a strip club seeing the boots. And that's all I needed, I guess.

Morgan makes a Convert out of me

Thanksgiving Dinner

It's the holiday season. And holidays can be stressful. Some people are lucky enough to be able to have fun kinky sex time while watching football, but most of us have to deal with family instead (and not sexually). I'm going off track. Point is, there's stress involved in Thanksgiving, in cooking and such.

And stress needs to be released, somehow. How many of you wish you had the apartment across the hall in this story?

Boots, Breaks, and Beating

Moriarty: Truth or Bare?

I know that some people like this Moriarty thing. I know I do. It's fun to write, and fun (though disturbing) to get inside her head. Fun, sexy, and mildly disturbing. That's how I want people to describe me. And it's how I describe her. Just, you know, without the 'mildly' part.

Anyway, I'm a bit concerned that she's leaning more towards the Joker than Moriarty in this one. Though, to be fair, I'm not entirely sure how different the two are. But this is the first time we see her actually COMMIT a crime. Well, more or less.

You'll see; I'll show you.



Holmes is where the heart is

The Terminatrix (all together)

First, I just wanted to announce: As of this writing, the blog is just barely shy of 17,000 views. That's amazing! The blog isn't even a year old yet. It's enough to make me start looking into advertising, into getting my own domain, and it's made me feel very wonderful. So thank you.

Second, as part of that thank you, I thought I would go ahead and put the Terminatrix story all in one easy to access place for you. Now you can read all four parts right in a row, as they were meant to be read (or you can read one part at a time; your call).

The Terminatrix

Confessions of a Bootlicker: tying up loose ends

 Well. No one has yet responded to my survey, and so I'm going to just do things as they pique my interest. For today, there was a story that never happened, something I wish had happened, that I wanted to talk about.

Some day, I'm going to put all these stories into a book. Would you buy the "Confessions of a Bootlicker: an autobiographical fantasy"? I think I'm getting close to having enough for a book.

Today's confession almost happened, and the almost is something that I really regret. What if I had gone through with it?

As usual: The names are changed, the faces made up, and the events are (partly) fictional, to protect the innocent/expose the dirty.

Confessions of a Bootlicker: Clubbing in college, tying up high school

Terminatrix (part one?)

I don't normally do this. Fan fiction is something I just don't like doing. Partially, it's a copyright issue. Partially I just see it as something that takes away from my artistic integrity: I can make my own worlds, thank you.

But some people are worth breaking rules for. Some people, some friends, deserve it. So this is for him, the one and only time I willingly write fan fiction.

Terminatrix

Who Knew?

I didn't get to every part of the request, but I'm pretty excited by what I produced nonetheless. I had to stop. Otherwise, there might have been more truth to the tale than I intended.

You'll see what I mean.

Since today's story is all about licking boots, and about licking specific boots, I thought I'd be extra kind and give you some visual aide. The two pairs discussed in the story are below the cut, woven into the story.

Enjoy.

What just the taste of leather can do

Perfect Cruelty

I don't know if this is the start of another run of stories. I'm hoping it is, but I don't want to jinx it. Things ARE settling down, and writing is good for me. So maybe I'll keep it up. We'll find out soon enough.

I was wondering, the other day, why it was I couldn't write anything for so long. And I realized that it is, partially, your fault, my lovely and wonderful readers. I was so intent on writing YOUR fantasies that I stopped paying attention to my own. And when you stopped asking for them, I felt like my inspiration had run dry.

Luckily, someone very special decided to make her presence known and remind me that I still have a lot to say. Today's story is about her.

My Perfect Mistress