Moments of my Life: The Shoe Ritual

I'm still working on my write-up of last weekend's incredible weekend of awesome, but it's taking a lot more effort (and time), than I have spare. So, to tide people over (and make sure I'm not falling too far behind on schedule!), I offer a little window into my Life with Daddy

There are some ritual which straddle mundane and kinky.

To anyone watching, it's barely anything. A boy helping his boyfriend put on their shoes and socks before we go out. But those people are not really watching.

Because what I'm doing brings me into the Space, reminds me of who I am and who I serve, and every step of the ritual is carefully felt, run through deliberately, although not always with great care. First, taking a pair of socks. Black, always, usually Daddy's own thick, wool socks, the sort he prefers. Alas, sometimes the washing has not always been done, and Daddy's socks are nowhere to be found, so a sacrifice of my own, inferior socks must be given. But Black, always.

I pull them out from each other, ensure that they're the right side out, and then start placing them on my Daddy's feet. bunch them up so the toe of the sock touches the toe of the foot, then pull them upwards across the foot. At the ankle, the important checks are made, to ensure that the sock is correctly aligned - all too often, the heel of the sock is somewhere completely out of left field, and Daddy's comfort must take priority over speed, or punctuality. Once Daddy and I are satisfied that it's on correctly, Pull them up so that they are up over the leg, and not languishing around the ankle.

I am still new to this game, and from time to time my enthusiasm causes me to accidentally hurt my Daddy while I put his socks on, as I am often as rough with him as I am on myself. But I learn, if slowly, and I will soon be trained enough to know how to apply the correct force to the correct situation, to be gentle when I must.

The process is repeated with the other sock, and then we reach the shoes. Daddy has very particular ideas about his shoes - A pair of old dress shoes with no laces, but a buckle on the front. To be honest, they suit Daddy so well, and they're practically a part of his identity now. The shoe's buckle is undone, I pull the shoe apart, while Daddy lifts his foot up. I put the shoe on as best I can, and then Daddy finishes the job, stepping into them, ensuring that the heel isn't folded over and all is comfortable.

I then grab the buckle and strap, and ensure the shoe is tight enough for my Daddy. The shoe is old, and this is not as easy as it may first seem, for the holes in the strap have frayed with use, with bits of fluff everywhere, and the buckle does not fall neatly into place. It's a struggle, but one I win this time, as the buckle finally slides into it's correct place. Repeated again with the other shoe, and my Daddy's dressing is finally complete. The final checks are done, and we are ready to go out.

It's a ritual I do gladly, and with enthusiasm. My Daddy is often so uncomfortable with me serving him, and this is a ritual that he enjoys and is comfortable with, so I seize on the opportunity when it arises. It is a time when my Daddy is fully in my attention, where I can devote my entire mind to serving him. Perhaps I should treat it as a meditation? A simple task where I can reflect on my Service to my Daddy.

Speaking of which, time to wake my Daddy. We go out today, and he'll need to get his shoes on!