Lee quieted the crowd.
He said something about traditions in the leather community, especially the gift of leather. He took back my sash (the harness) and my scepter (the butt plug). He gave the microphone to Gray and stepped aside.
My eyes watered. I knew what was about to happen, but I couldn’t let myself believe it.
Gray spoke. He talked about our dynamic as Teacher/student. About how proud of me he was. How the highest hope for a Teacher is that their student will exceed past them. How I had done just that on stage that night.
He held leather gloves in his hands. A pair of gloves he’d owned for a decade, bought in a store back in Wisconsin that didn’t exist anymore. He spoke about how he had treasured the leather, taking it with him wherever he traveled.
He turned to me, handed me the gloves, and hugged me tightly.
It was all I could do not to cry.
Sometimes there are moments in life where no script could exceed the brilliance of your reality. I could not have imagined a more perfect way for that moment to occur. And to think, I had had two of those moments in one night.
As I held Gray’s gloves, now my gloves, in my hand I felt such joy and admiration, such pleasure that I had not only accomplished so much that evening but also done so in honor of my Sempai, who sat center of the judges’ table privately cheering me on.
Lee returned my sash and scepter. People came up to me and congratulated me. I couldn’t move three steps without someone hugging me or patting me on the back or giving their felicitations. And, of course, many spoke about my moment with Gray and my gifted leather.
At one point, Stefanos stopped me. He gave me space. Got me to close my eyes. And all he said, all he kept saying, over and over again, was “Let it go.”
I breathed. I cried. I wailed. I laughed. I hollered. I ended with a giggle. And a look at him. A thank you for giving me that space, that moment.
As the crowd died down, I found myself back in Gray’s arms for a hug. It was a big night for the both of us.
Everyone drifted away eventually. I wanted to head down to Carol Queen’s erotica reading circle. Others had sex and play to get to.
But, for one shining moment, I was on top of the world. I was in the spotlight, nowhere to run or hide from it.
And, for one year, I am the reigning Dirty Pig, real gifted leather to match my fake leather title.
My Dirty Pig Experience
– Pep Talk
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