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For Lustful LiaisonsLoitering in Leather.
A Milena or Three back, and up to today MEN wore Leather as light armor in combat. It provided a protective foreskin to hard powerful bodies desired by the weaker of both sexes. What it became is the Iconic Classic Image of the ever adored "Rebel." That romantic stigma existed long before silver screen legend James Dean resurrected its place in the modern era. It was the cheap armor the only kind a peasant could afford. Thereby during uprisings citizen militia were known for taking up arms with only leather armor to protect them. Leather then became entrenched in the DNA of rebels on all continents.
Lessor Prussian Knights used to take their leather tunic-ed Squires as "Campaign Concubines" providing the Alpha Knight's sexual urges met in dire times while allowing the Squire to not be seen as effeminate. It was the original "Don't ask don't tell" Military policy, and it worked well until Alphas started fucking Alphas their weakness in gaining affection for one another brought about an internal rebellion in which many Squires put down Knights wearing the same leather tunics they were once fucked in. Now see that would never have happened if the men had stayed men. How humiliating would it be to die impaled on the speer of your former Squire that you used to penetrate by the sword you're born with?
Now you understand my philosophy of Leather Domination!
So you're the kind of Homo that likes being a man who worships alpha men. You don't want to be feminized, but you will submit to the foulest most painful and humiliating trials of the "The Man Lover's Passion." I would test the fullest extent of that passion beyond its living borders.
Have you ever stood close to a man wearing fresh practically factory new leather? No matter what he might look like (Within reason I'm pretty sure a "Steak Skin" has never gotten Johna Hill laid) the first layer of you're attraction has already been aroused. For some a more weather beaten hyde taps your inner savage to the bone without bones. There is a part of you that drools picturing his Harley Gloves knotting your tendons into tantric contusions. How sweet will the memories be for those many weeks it takes you to heal? How much will your heart thud at the thought of another such encounter? You start to hang onto dreamy thought trends remembering with such glee that you bled on his vest. Oh surely he cleaned it off by now, but somewhere in the pore of a beast worn by an even greater beast is a fleck of your DNA he carries with him wherever he goes.
I am a Rugged Individualist Rebel since the day after I was born. I embrace Leather as a practical Biker utility, an efficient use of something you killed, and most importantly as a symbol of my general "Fuck You" attitude for authority. When you're in my world I am all the authority you skin suckers get.
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