NOW ON SALE IN THE BOTTLE .. PER all lills DISTRIBUTED BY DISTRIBUTOR

DIRTY FEET IS AVAILABLE AT: San Francisco, California

839 Larkin Leatherworld -

Austin, Texas Mr. Peeper's No. 4 - 213 E. 6th

Houston, Texas

4613 Mt. Vernon 4009 Hollister Action - Adonis News Stand - 1407 Richmond Climax No. 1 - 10529 So. Post Oak Climax No. 2 -

5201 LANCASTER HOUSTON, TX 77087

DEALER INQUIRIES INVITED

4418 So. Main 9413 Jensen Main Street News - Mark Iv - 5200 Telephone Rd. Mr. Peeper's No. 1 - 1427 Texas Ave. Mr. Peeper's No. 2 - 5406 Airline Dr. Mr. Peeper's No. 3 - 2900 Fannin 3205 Montrose Mr. Peeper's Glory Hole Pleasure Chest Robinhood Adult Books No. 1-4626 Sherwood Robinhood Adult Books No. 2-4330 Richmond

I HELLO DISTRIBUTORS 15201 Lancaster DM 3 / 77 Houston, TX 77087 I SEND $10.00 (includes handling, tax & mailing) Your Order will be Shipped Immediately Name… Address… City…State … Zip …

Getting Issue number twelve marched out somewhat the way March came in - with a roar. We were considerably oversold and had to cut back to some newer distributors. Our press run has gone up again for this issue, and boasts the first again for this suck, allo boasts the first mew TOM of Finland art in some time (courtesy of Eon Galleries), new Target discovery BILL KING, an outstanding new Astrologic artist, Olaf Olegaard, plus a new Leather Source sec In our last issue in In Passing, we suggested a boycott of Florida Orange products who sponsor huckster / songstress Anita Bryant. And we weren't the only one. The reaction to Ms. Bryant and her hate group in Dade County, Florida has stirred up a hornet's nest. One bright note was the Singer Company's cancellation of a proposed network TV show to be hosted by the homophobic ex-beauty queen. Persons wishing to convey their opinions regarding the activities of Anita and her "Save Our Children from Homosexuality, Inc.," may use these addresses: Edward Taylor, Executive Director, Florida Citrus Commission, 1115 E. Memorial Blvd., Lakeland, Florida 33801. Robert V. Walker, President, First Federal Savings and Loan, (another Bryant Sponsor), One SE Third Ave., Miami 33131. Another jarring note was the convic- tion of HUSTLER publisher Larry Flynt in constipated Cincinnati. Much more on that on the In Passing page (76) by noted author Harold Robbins. The price of liberty gets higher and higher. So does the price of HUSTLER, which we went out and bought a copy of to see what the fuss was all about. We hope their press- run goes up, too. While we are on the subject of jarring notes: They said you couldn't do busi- ness with Hitler. We found that out for ourselves this month. For some time DRUMMER ran a small ad from the National Socialist League (aka Gay Nazis). Not that we had anything going for the group other than a philosophy that to refuse their ad would be playing their game. Finally, the layout department chose to place the ad on a page near and dear to the Editor and it was officially decided that the Nazis had to go. They took us to small claims court, claiming the next ad was paid for. They chose one of the days that the editor and publisher were both in another court on the Slave Auction matter. Since you can't be in two courtrooms at the same time, they got a default judgment. Then they called to say that if we'd run the ad one last time, we'd be even. Rather than go back to court, we ran the ad last issue. A week later, after getting their ad published, they attached our bank account for the amount of the ad they hadn't paid for in the first place, plus court costs. Fraud? Of course. Our attorney said it served us right for having anything to do with them at all. He's probably right. He usually is. We gave him our copy of HUSTLER to pacify him. MALECALL / Dear Sir: Dear Drummer, Just saw your super magazine - issue 11. Now I want more! Please send me the back issues you have — I gather 2 through 9, but hope maybe 10 also. Just for the record, I really like uniforms , and the story about Chuck Stiehr is interesting. I would also like to see more pics of guys in uniform, and par- ticularly under punishment in the brig, etc. I have quite a collection of uniforms myself - mostly Navy & Marine, of which I have a pretty complete selection (bell bottom Navy, that is, not the new crap) Allen Eagles' Movie Mayhem is really good, too. Hope he will (or has done in an issue you can send me) do a story on hangings, which is another turn-on for me, but hard to do for most of us. Clint Eastwood in Hang-em High was great, with a scene of 6 men being hanged together on a large gallows. BB Boston, Mass. Hi Guys! I've been following your fetish series with a lot of interest. I have several fetishes, and it's always amazing how enhanced sex can be by the presence of a few sexy fetish objects. One fetish I really dig is gym gear - tably jockstraps and basketbal basketball notably sneakers. Anything that smells like a hot young athlete turns me on. Anyway, I hope you might think about doing an article about that. In tricking around town, I have found that a lot of guys have an interest in that kind of fetish. Keep up the good work. You've got a high quality rag that is also hot. If I can be of any help to you, don't hesitate to contact me. Cheers! Steve Glendale, CA Dear Sir: When I was 17 I had a two way sex affair with a wonderful guy who later became a cop. He wasn't a god, but he was first class in face, body, and endowments . Later when this Frank got on the force, our affair continued for a short while only it was then only one way with me doing the worshipping. Frank soon did his duty as a stud, took a bride, and sired a family Today I still see Frank now and then, sitting on one of those three wheeled motorcycle jobs, he's gained weight, and now has the shape of a pear. His 16 year old daughter refuses to marry the boy who impregnated her because, as Frank says, "she doesn't love the stud." I see Frank with his two teen aged sons who appear handsomer and even better built than was their dad at that age. Frank talks pleasantly, kindly with me whenever I see him, but no mention whatever is made of our past bed adventures together . I hope someday I run into Frank with his sons in the showers of our local YMCA to compare their hangings. Whenever I see these goodlooking motorcycle cops in Cleveland, Chicago, Philadelphia, or here, sitting legs spread, idling on their choppers, I get a roaring hard on watching their saddle projected glory pouches extended upwards from their right riding pants. I try to imagine whether or not these uniformed studs are wearing sweaty jock straps for riding protection beneath their uniforms. Conceited brutes, they are well aware of the effect their broad shouldered, serge uniformed bodies have on dames and some guys, and they are trained to stare down observers, and they return my open mouthed gawking with smirking stares. I am always heavy into gladiatorial fantasies, with stories that could curl your hair of how these highly admired man-mountains had looked, lusted, fought, and died to arouse the blood lust of the Roman arena mob. Then there are the fantasies-stories of built gym teachers with admiring star pupils, father-son incestual' affairs, swimming pool lovers, champ body builders and teen aged novice worshippers, prison rape, and so condifications. on ad infinitum. Fond du Lac, WI Sirs: As mentioned in the latest issue of 'Drummer,' I desire some information in regard to Bike Clubs in Dixie. My residence is near Chattanooga, which is deader than hell for the M / C and leather crowd. Would like to join a near-by Bike Club, but don't know how to contact any. Have written the Atlantis Club in Atlanta on two separate occasions and never even had receipt of my letters acknowledged. Can you offer any suggestions ? Possibly without membership, current information in regard to scheduled ac-tivities may be available from someone who has knowledge of activities that may be attended by non-affiliated individuals. Can you be of help with this information source? W.H.S. Lookout Mountain, Tenn. JAMES DEAN WAS A HOMOSEXUAL TOO" I've enjoyed reading Drummer Magazine for the past four months now and I would like to extend my word of thanks for bringing the beautiful world of the leatherman into my view, as true and realistic as it is. Now for a tidbit of info: I have just finished reading "Hollywood Tragedy" by William H. Carr, copyright, 1976, published by Fawcett Crest Publications Inc., Greenwich, Connecticut. In the chapter about James Dean it states that aside from having an "idee fix about Marlon Brando" he attended "GAY" parties at the Malibu Colony. They also said, "although he may have had bi- sexual tendencies, Dean was definitely a homosexual - and he tended to mix with homosexuals whose specialty was for sadism and masochism. At the "GAY" party which he attended the last night of his life, he was said to have had a bad row with one of his lovers, who attacked him for feigning an interest in women. The next day he was dead!" I think that "DRUMMER" should shed some light on this story because James Dean idolized Marlon Brando who started the fad with his leather jacket image and tough free-spirited personality . And it was this image in the mid- 1950's that made way for the foundation that "DRUMMER" is based upon. Running a series of articles with pictures and interviews with those who knew him the best, would make for interesting reading, and would attract new and curious readers, who normally skim pass your magazine with other feature magazines next to it featuring sensationalized stories about nothing but mere trivia. Please try it, you'll notice some response. Ken Bethpage, NY LEATHER HELP / HELPFUL With respect to your suggestion, I would like to help update your list of "leather bars" with one correction and one addition. Listed under Connecticut is Rusty's Roadhouse, 1388 Thomaston Avenue, Waterbury. That address (and the sign confirms that it was the Roadhouse Cafe) is a semi-boarded-up building that has not been in use for over a year. If Rusty's has moved, you might confirm my observa- tion by writing to the old address; otherwise , scratch one bar. I've visited the Boston Eagle recently and found it to be very leather. In addition , there is a denim / leather / western bar called Chaps which you might investigate and include, as my experience has shown it to be an early evening pro-leather crowd. I should take this opportunity to say that your magazine provides a helpful and encouraging resource for those of us on the fringes or outside of the leather lifestyle who may be interested but have not yet had the opportunity (or the nerve) to actively participate. I sincerely hope you can continue to draw upon the best work of the purveyors of the leather lifestyle, to maintain and to improve the quality of an already responsible publication. 1.H. Connecticut Dear DRUMMER: Enjoy your Movie Mayhem Series in DRUMMER! Might have missed some articles, but have you missed John Payne tied between two horses in The Eagle and the Hawk? Paramount about 1952. Super shots of crotch, torn open shirt splitting in armpit, hairy chest from great angles. If you ever do a series on Tights and Torsos remember basket shots of Cornel Wilde in col. "Bandit of Sherwood Forest," and Basil Rathbone and Ty Power in "Mark of Zorro" — Fox. Also — Power in opening scenes of "Johny Apollo." In a kinkier vein, can you find the Life Mag. photo of Elvis in jockey shorts during his Army induction? How about photos of Alan Ladd and Wm. Holden with and without hairy chests in different films and publicity pictures? Out of curiosity, how come on TV despite skin tight pants, Robert Conrad, Lee Majors and Glenn Campbell appear to have no basket at all? And Burt Ward of Batman and Robin also? No Name Dear Sir: I am a great fan of DRUMMER and always purchase every issue that hits the local newsstand. My collection now includes all of your issues. But, it seems to me, you have been overlooking one important and obvious recent development in the "Leather scene." That is the Italian director — Pasolini's — last film before his untimely murder. It is titled SALO, or 120 Days in Sodom. It is now shooting in Paris where I saw it some weeks ago and - WOW! This film alone is worth a special issue in any "Leather" publication. You really ought to look into it and offer your readers some stills from it in any case. You will pardon me if I choose to re- main anonymous. New York Gentlemen: I have just completed your latest issue. The weather here in Houston is warming up, and man so is your mag (in fact it's just plain fuckin' HOT). Couldn't help but note that you have a new sub-heading and assume that it means that your format will change a bit. "America's Mag for the Macho Male" seems to be more inclusive than "LEA-THER FRATERNITY," and with that you've once again hit the nail on the head, SIR. Thanks for realizing that there are us into levis. After reading your entire mag (hands shaking with anticipation of finding my favorite feature) I had to result to masturbating over a past issue. The page is getting a bit worn from the action and results. Please tell me sirs that you have not discontinued the erotic connect the dots series. I'm so far into them that I painstakingly connect them with a ruler. A suggestion: Produce an entire magazine consisting of crosswords and erotic dots and make it available, through mail order, to us that like verbal and written S / M. In sincerity, many thanks for countless hours of enjoyment received through your efforts. More DOTS, more HOT photos of young studs (got any light haired types in your archives) and more western hunks. Keep up the great work and outstanding quality. DD Houston, TX Sirs: The new issue of DRUMMER arrived today and I want to congratulate you for finally running the National Socialist League ad. Finally you practice the nondiscrimination you preach. Also, I would like to see some kind of organized reply to Anita Bryant's escapades - a letter writing campaign maybe, as well as the boycott of orange juice (that you already suggested). A more devoted reader: IS For more on both of those subjects, see "Getting Off" opposite. - Ed. "LEATHER AND UNIFORM CLUBS PISS THE COPS OFF. BUT THEY'LL HARDLY EVER TRY TO BUST SOMEONE IN A LEATHER BAR. THEY'D NEVER GET OUT ALIVE!" 'I was a Gay JACK, our interviewee, is a big, deep-voiced , good-looking guy in his early thirties, about as butch as they come. Until recently, he was a sergeant in the L.A.P.D., during part of his law-enforcement career on the vice squad. Jack is also gay, and he feels increasingly strongly about the immorality of vice squads, the prevalent practice of entrap- ing gays and the "obscenity" of prosecuting victimless crimes. Jack isn't his real name. He asked us not to use that because he has a pending lawsuit against the city and because his ex-lover is still a member of the L.A.P.D. But he has some fascinating things to say about the inner workings of one of the country's most ruthlessly homophobic police departments and what it's like to be gay and be a Los Angeles cop.

about taking it that they flunk it — even though they're not gay.

D: But there ARE gay cops in the Los

Angeles Police Department. How can these gays get on without developing

J: Most of them are paranoid, and with good reason. You get caught, you get fired. And if it's your career, then your life is ruined. I met my lover on the force. He approached me, but he was nervous as hell. I was the first guy he ever made it with. We lived together, but we never drove to work together, never patrolled together, never ate lunch together , hardly ever acknowledged each other's presence. All we did was sleep together every night. He'd get really turned on, hot as a pistol, want to do everything – until he came. Then he'd get this attitude of, "Get away from me, you faggot." He never said it, but I sensed it. He'd be all full of remorse and guilt for about an hour afterwards. He just couldn't handle it. He couldn't reconcile being a cop and being gay. So now he's a cop - first, last and always. And he's

I heard a story about a young cop, just out of the academy, who fell in love with his partner, an older veteran of the force. Finally, it got to be unbearable for the kid, and one day he told his partner that he loved him. Well, the guy went right to headquarters and squealed, and the kid got fired.

D: There must be some cops who are less uptight, like you.

J: Yeah, I didn't give a shit. Like I said, it was just a job. I was a damned good cop, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't paranoid about being gay. There was this one cop in my division who found out somehow that I was gay. He never said anything to anyone, but he was damned abusive. We'd have words and he'd call me a queer, and he was always generally nasty. Then one day, after about a year of this, he came up to me and propositioned me. I accepted.

Another time I called the cops because my house had been burglarized. Two officers came by, and one of them was a guy I had tricked with the week before. Neither of us knew the other was a cop. About a week later, this guy comes to my door in full uniform. He comes in, and asks me to put on my full uniform, gun and all. Then we made it together. Now I'm not a uniform freak, but I sure got off on it. I was late for roll-call that day. And I couldn't wear the same uniform because it had come stains on it.

D: How do cops feel about the leather scene and uniform clubs?

: It pisses them off. They make fun of those guys. It's an attitude of, "I have the real uniform. I deserve it. Those guys are just phony queers." But they'll hardly ever try to bust someone in a leather bar. Can you see one of 'em going into Larry's on a crowded night? He'd never get out of there alive!

D: What about the Mark IV arrests?

J: It was planned two weeks in advance, out of administrative vice downtown . It took a large back-up and contingency of uniformed officers to do the clean-up after they did the dirty work. Of all charges - slavery! How can you en- slave the willing? Didn't someone once buy the services of Congressman Goldwater for an hour at a political fund-raiser ? There was this big headline in the Santa Ana Register: "LAPD Frees The Slaves!" They freed them all right. They took off those plastic handcuffs and replaced them with the real thing. Then they put them behind bars. They really freed them!

D: What can be done about vice arrests? Is there a way to stop the whole thing?

J: It's real tough. Ed Davis has become something of a folk hero, you know, to those people in the San Fer- nando Valley and Orange County. He has a whole lot of power. And he gives the department free rein. He encourages cops to bust gays. They can do anything they want to in relation to gays and they'll have the complete backing of the department . Davis promotes homophobic cops to positions of power and influence. And it isn't likely to change. Ed Davis is a prodigy of Chief Parker, who hated gays; once Davis leaves the chances are Darryl Gates will be the new police chief, and he reflects the feelings of Davis. It's a self-perpetuating thing. You know, one of Chief Davis' great contributions to the understanding of homosexuality is his "Germ Theory." One of his biggest qualms about gays is that we're nasty and dirty and we have

"ED DAVIS ENCOURAGES COPS TO BUST GAYS. THEY CAN DO ANYTHING THEY WANT TO GAYS AND THEY'LL HAVE THE COMPLETE BACKING OF THE DEPARTMENT." sex in back alleys and bathrooms and that when gay cops use the car microphone they spread germs to the next (straight) officer who uses it. Oh! Clean, straight, sweet and pure officer. He just goes home and eats every pussy on the street. Well, I'm living proof that I didn't give anyone on the force swine flu - and a pun was intended! always suspected that Davis had political ambitions. Some of his remarks were so irrational — like hanging hijackers right at the airport - that it was clear he was pandering to the most red-neck element of California politics. Now some ultra-conservative groups are trying to "draft" him for the Republican Guberna- torial nomination. Surprise!

I think attitudes are going to have to change, people are gonna have to be educated about homosexuality before we'll see a slackening off. You know, a big objection to gay cops is the parents' fears that their little boys are gonna be molested. Well, let me tell you, if I were a parent, I wouldn't want my little girl around police officers. The chances of a straight cop seducing a teenage girl are far greater than a gay cop seducing a teenage boy.

But the only thing you can do now is be careful. It's pretty easy to spot a vice cop. He's the guy who on the hottest day of the year still has his jacket on. He has to keep it on to conceal his shoulder holster. You have to beware if you see a beautiful stud, real hunky, with a jacket, acting real available to some whimpy-looking queen that you know would be the mis-match of the century. It's a good bet he's a vice cop operating this guy.

Another thing is that Sunday nights are off-nights for the vice squad. It's the only night of the week that gays can get together in places like Griffith park to do their thing.

We're not all innocent. We'd just like to be left alone to do our thing. But there are those gays who like to do straight trade in tea rooms. For some guys it's more of a thrill to proposition a straight guy, no matter what he says, than to get it on with someone who's willing. One time, when I was a patrolman, I was in City Hall testifying, in civilian clothes, and I went to the men's room to take a dump. While I was sitting there this whimpy, fat, red-headed guy, about twenty-two, walked right into my stall and said, "Hey, I'd like to give you a blow job." Well, I got mad. So I told him, "Sure, just let me wipe my ass and get up." As soon as I did that, I punched him in the stomach, pushed him against the wall, lifted him by the scruff of his neck and told him that if he didn't get the hell out of City Hall, I'd kill him. To my mind, that's far superior to busting the guy.

D: Joseph Wambaugh thinks that all gays in tearooms, even the ones who have sex only with willing partners, have a desire to be caught. I would think that, on the contrary, people do it in spite of the danger, not because of it.

I think so, too. Sometimes you get real hard up for a trick and tearoom sex is very quick and easy. I've met people at the beach and I always try to go somewhere else, but I can't always. I did it on the beach once but I was so uptight about getting caught that it wasn't much tun.

I don't think guys who use tearooms want to get caught, but maybe they do want to be degraded. I think the ones who proposition straights in tearooms want the verbal abuse and the angry reaction they usually get from straights even more than they want sex.

D: But sometimes the straight guy will be willing, won't he?

J: Sure, sometimes. Occasionally a straight guy will come, by accident, into the local bar I hang out in and then decide to stay. There's a fascination on the part of some guys. They want to see what it's all about. They want to try gay sex — it's forbidden fruit. No pun intended.

D: Do vice squads serve any useful purpose at all?

]: None whatsoever. They're not "saving" anyone from anyone but himself . They are pornography in the worst sense. Having a cop in a gay bar who's enticing guys to grope him and then arresting them is obscenity in the truest sense of the word — that which is without any redeeming social value.

An all-new super-aroma formula in both liquid and ampule forms. Don't flinch, Cat's Meow is well worth the cost. Satisfaction is guaranteed through extensive consumer research testing. One whiff and you'll see why it's the Cat's Meow! e, the fleet-footed couriers of correspondence enlightenment, do hereby very solemnly guarantee efficient, same-day processing and speedy, first-class delivery of our assigned rounds.

We attest that for just one dollar, all prospective customers will enjoy the satisfaction of receiving our consistently modernized catalogues of gay films, magazines, paperbacks, rubbergoods, and sundry other toys of intimacy.

From our mail bags to yours (box or slot) in a flash! (or in a tastefully discreet plain-brown envelope if you prefer).

How sweet it is, I reflected, to be able to plan these things ahead of time, to have a carefully-screened and unquestion- ing victim, to get all the equipment set up of / the / company [×3+]

But once having secured generous finan actor / athlete … to co-star in a heavy action film." Even some smaller agents, desperate to find work for restive clients, forwarded piles of intriguing composites and doctored resumes.

I had conducted endless preliminary interviews, all requiring the applicant to strip as an integral part of the initial elimination process, before narrowing the field down to three finalists who eagerly agreed to submit themselves "without qualification" to the testing of their "reactions to a series of humiliations, punishments, and tortures" that was to be my final selection pro these terminal try-outs would be conducted under the most authentic circum- stances possible: hency my intense euphoria.

Results of the initial final sessions confirmed by early conclusions about the importance of careful preparation. To put through his paces the first of the finalists, an incipient swashbuckler type named Marc Ortega, I had rented a fully- equipped dungeon set from an independent film company in the process of doing a remake of "The Black Swan." There is no other word than "fantastic" to describe the entire exhilerating experience . It far surpassed my most opti- mistic expectations! (Ed. note: Masters described this hot scene in DRUMMER Issue 12.)

Now I was just about ready to put the second finalist through his paces. Inasmuch as 21-year-old Buck Taylor was a real rodeo cowboy from the backwaters of Oklahoma, I had decided to subject his lean and rugged form to a series of tortures with an appropriately western orientation. He had been forewarned of this, and ordered to appear wearing the same outfit he had worn when he won first money in the Junior Rodeo Nationals.

A stuntman ex-slave of mine owned a small ranch near Sylmar and agreed to let me have the run of that remote spot on a day when he had to be out on location, and that promising day had finally arrived. Buck had been given a call for noon, so I had the entire morning to double-check the available facilities and equipment. I was particularly pleased with the potential of some items I discovered in the tack room and its environs.

Only a minute or two before noon I heard the distant sound of an engine, and a few moments later Buck's wheezing Ford pick-up swerved off the road and into the dusty driveway. He screeched to a stop by the hitching rail in front of the barn and jumped out, leaving the cab door ajar behind him. Catching sight of me in the adjoining tack room doorway, he ran in my direction, then came to an abrupt halt several respectful feet away.

"Gee, sir, I surely do hope I ain't late. I never been up this way afore," he spluttered breathlessly. "I thought I lowed enough time, but that consarned traffic -" "Shut up!" I commanded.

He obeyed, mouth open in mid-word .

I looked him over leisurely, pleased to note that he was dressed as I had told him to: long-sleeved flannel shirt, well-worn clinging jeans, and scuffed boots with the heels worn down at that curious angle typical of working cowboys. A sweat-stained Stetson rested lightly on his close- cropped sandy hair, and a plaid necker- chief was knotted below his appealingly-rounded chin. He sported no jewelry whatsoever.

"Do I look O.K.?" He asked apprehensively, head lowered, squinting up at me with incredibly azure eyes.

"Sir!"

"Do I look O.K., sir?" I slowly circled him, inventorying with pleasure the width of his shoulders, the subtle curve of his buttocks, the bulge at his crotch - remembering with satisfac- eyes crinkling in that sexy way I recalled. A sudden surge of warmth filled my loins. Taking a Release Form from my brief- case, I handed it to him to sign. My lawyer had drawn it up, and it stated in no uncertain terms that I was relieved from all liability for any injury that might be done, and that the hopeful actor was undergoing this try-out of his own free will. "Put yer monicker on this!" Buck frantically searched his left breast pocket, found the chewed stub of a yellow pencil, and painstakingly wrote. a yenow pericin, air by amissakingly wrote his name at the bottom of the sheet: "Hiram Edward Taylor, Jr." He handed it back to me immediately, then retreated a few steps, waiting expectantly to sub- mit himself to my wild this movie job with that special kind of hunger that only an out-of-work per- former can know. This could be his golden opportunity, and he would risk anything and everything to take advan- tage of it.

And a good thing, too, for back in the far recesses of the barn I had found an old two-wheeled dog cart which I had methodically cleaned and oiled. This now stood just a few yards from us in the

DRUMMER 10 .

open doorway, forked tongue from the single axle between its two wire wheels resting in the dirt, half-canopy shielding the driver's seat from the noonday sun, ready for bizarre employment. I studied it with immense anticipation, then turned back to Buck.

"First, ditch them fruity boots. Then strip down to yer fuckin' underwear — if yer wearin' any," I growled. With only the very slightest flicker of alarm he immediately unbuttoned his sleeves at the wrists, jerked the shirt-tails out of his jeans, opened the buttons down the front, one by one, and shrugged out of the garment, leaving it with some indication of reluctance in the dirt at his feet. Under a form-fitting T-shirt his nipples pushed provocatively.

He squatted in place to pull off his boots, then stood upright again to release the straining buttons down his fly from their narrow imprisonment. The trouser legs were so tight around his thick thighs that he had to tug at them vigorously in order to get them off, heavy wool socks going along with them. Stripped to hat, neckerchief, T-shirt and boxer shorts, he resumed his place before me, awaiting my pleasure.

After surveying the compact torso for a few moments, delighting in the promised strength of his bulging calves - a feature common to those who spend a lot of time on horseback - I yawned deliberately and directed him to fetch from the seat of the dog cart another of my early morning "finds," a rough-hewn single ox yoke with abnormally-elongated wings. Buck followed my bidding with alacrity, anxious to prove himself perfect to play the masochistic movie role I was casting.

"Kneel down!" I barked.

The young cowboy fell to his knees on the ground instantly, head bowed low in some atavistic acknowledgment of servitude in an earlier existence. His sinewy arms hung loosely at his sides and his big toes pressed together. "Stretch them motherfuckin' arms out wide!"

Again he did my bidding without hesitation.

Resting the yoke across his powerful shoulders, I rudely tightened the centered oxbow under and around his neck. With short lengths of leather horse reins I fastened his wrists to the extended wings of the heavy yoke, as if to the horizontal bar of a cross. His brawny arms now immobilized , I pulled him to his feet, my attention now turned to those two bare legs

First I hobbled his ankles with a two-foot leather thong, restricting movement to about six-inch steps. Then I grabbed the waistband of Buck's boxers and ripped them violently away from his body. His exposed cock quivered, began to arch upward, its head making a tentative appearance from between the uncut folds of foreskin. The tempo of his breathing increased sharply, diaphragm pumping visibly beneath the taut T-shirt.

Finally I tied the center portion of a long, narrow piece of rawhide securely around the base of his hairy sac. Picking up the tongue of the dog cart, I forced it between my slave's thighs and wrapped the loose ends of rawhide around each one of the prongs of its forked end. I was going to have me a ride around that ranch, and my means of energy was going to be rodeo cowboy ball-power!

Any doubts regarding my plans that may have remained in Buck's mind must have been irrevocably dispelled when I tore the T-shirt from his back, snapped at

One foot lurched in a tiny step ahead of the other before he felt the pull of the cart at his scrotum. He came to an abrupt halt. The cart had not moved at all. Gripping the crop of the whip tightly, I slashed again at the exposed planes of that broad back before me, now begin-

Buck's other foot inched ahead, his whole body straining forward. I heard something like a cross between a grunt and a groan and felt the cart shudder slightly, although inertia was not yet overcome. Urging my harnessed victim to increased efforts, I applied the buggy whip again and again, noting with grim satisfaction the criss-crossing of welts beginning to appear on Buck's naked flesh.

He was sobbing from pain and frus- tration now, but his determination continued unabated. So much was at stake! Pushing every muscle to its utmost effort, he forced one foot forward again. I was fascinated by the agonizing stretch of the scrotum beneath the enticing sounds of his bare buttock cheeks, and aimed my next blow directly at that target. Which did the trick, let me tell you! With a sudden, gutteral shriek, he managed to flounder forward and the cart creaked into motion.

"Move that dead ass o' yours straight ahead into the field!" I called, flicking my whip again, this time at those gleam- ing buttocks.

Slowly, deliberately, inch by painful inch, a steady forward movement was established. At the rate of about two feet per minute, we trundled out into the open field. The sun beat down mercilessly , and perspiration ran in rivulets over the body of my panting doggy, soaking the remnants of T-shirt that clung to his heaving chest, darkening the sweat band of his Stetson, mixing with little beads of blood across his back and ass. The tender membrane of his scrotum seemed stretched to the breaking point.

There were a few anxious moments on the trip back to the barn when one of the wheels of the dog cart slipped into a rut. I had to use my whip with murderous ferocity in order to get us underway again. The muscular back just a few feet in front of me was covered with bloody stripes, and a steady whimpering moan counterpointed the metronomic cracking of the whip.

When we reached the initial starting point and I cried "Whoa, doggy!" my slave crumpled full length into the dust, fettered arms still outstretched, hat

I lazily released the rawhide from his balls, and then perfunctorily sponged his bleeding back and butt. The damage looked considerably worse than it ac- tually was, skin broken only superficially in a few places. To these I applied iodine lavishly, and could almost hear the grinding of Buck's teeth. Spread belly down at my feet, his naked form with arms still fastened and ankles hobbled, my supplicant maintained a stoic silence, passively awaiting his next ordeal.

Pulling him to his feet, I tore aside the remnants of his T-shirt leaving the neckerchief in place, untied his ankles, and gave him a hefty shove into the tack room. He managed somehow to keep his balance, and came to rest in a mote-filled beam of sunshine from a high, open window, affording me my first real opportunity of the day to examine the nipple-centered pectorals and Robert Conrad-like washboard stomach that had so attracted me at our preliminary interview. It was amazing to see that throughout his entire ex- perience as a "doggy" he had not lost his semi-erection.

Stretched-out arms still tethered to the yoke, oxbow firmly around his neck, my youthful rodeo star looked uncannily animal-like, the reincarnation of some mythological faun, perhaps, lacking only horns to complete the image. Deep blue eyes returned my thoughtful gaze worshipfully . Sweat continued to stream from his exposed, finely-haired armpits. His tightly-curled pubic hair was matted with it, unconsciously abetting the next trial I had planned for him. backed him up to the center post, and lashed him to it around neck, waist and ankles with additional lengths of leather reins. Only then did I remove the yoke, in order to tie his wrists together and fix them to a ceiling beam high above his head. Then I let my hands trace the outlines of his nudity, trailing down his arms, over his chest and stomach, down, down, caressing thighs and calves. Beneath my palms, the living flesh exuded warmth.

Feeling the heat myself, I doffed my own jacket and jeans retaining only jock strap and engineer boots. Buck followed my every move avidly, pink tongue wetting dry lips, as I brought closer to him a bucket of spring water and a bar of soap. With these I made a batch of lather and worked it thoroughly into the pinioned cowboy's pubic hair, covering the entire area wound his ever-enlarging prick and contracted bag.

Acquiescent, he did not even flinch involuntarily when I picked up an ancient straight razor and began hacking at his vital region. The blade hadn't been sharpened since God knows when, so each wiry hair was as much plucked out as it was sliced off. Glancing up, I saw Buck's larynx working convulsively, but still no sound escaped his lips. Annoyed, I began to whack at his groin more savagely , yanking brutally at his inflamed nuts so as to reach the secret nest of hair beneath them. A barely-throttled bellow rewarded my more energetic effots, but that swollen cowboy cock sustained its rigidity.

I kept at it ruthlessly until the whole area was depilated. Droplets of blood flecked his skin, and to these I laved more iodine before releasing my exhausted prey from the post. With some little dif- ficulty, he stayed on his feet.

"Hands behind yer back!" I snarled.

As if expecting this command, he smartly crossed bruised wrists at the small of his back. I bound them together there, then forced them up towards his neck and drew a loop around it, under the neckerchief.

"Now get on yer fuckin' knees, ass-hole , and get this goddamn jock strap offa me with yer cocksuckin' teeth!"

Buck evidenced no sense of humilia- tion at all as he dropped to his knees at my feet and bit at the waistband of my athletic supporter. When his teeth inadvertantly rasped my bare hip I cracked his face resoundingly. He lost his grip and returned to the task more gingerly, moving his mouth from one side to the other, bit by bit dragging the strap down over my buttocks, studiously avoiding contact with my big organ that sprang from its imprisonment at my crotch.

Now naked and rampant as he, I began preparation for the final trial, Loosening his arms again, I made him spreadeagle himself face up on the dirt-packed floor. With segments of iron chain that had apparently at one time been used to tie fence posts together for shipping, I immobilized his widespread arms to supporting beams at either side of the little room. The same fetters served to fix his legs in a similar position. He was utterly helpless, all his life force seemingly confined to those alert eyes and that rigid cock

Divesting a rusty bridle of its reins and discarding the bit, I straddled his chest and set the mechanism around his head, thrusting the clamps into the sides of his mouth. This distorted his lips and teeth into a diabolical kind of half-smile, the overall effect enhanced by a film of fear over the wide blue eyes that glazed, unblinking, up at me. I could feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath my ass, the quick expansion and contraction of his lungs.

"O.K., turd-face, get ready to eat meat," I exulted, raising forward on my knees and ramming my full nine inches deep into the back of his throat. He gagged uncontrollably, his soft palate palpating against the tip of my cock- head with exquisite effect. Supported by my arms, I gyrated my hips, feeling as well as hearing the gurgling response of my defenseless vassal, fucking that fresh circular hip movement to a more direct thrusting action, pulling almost com- pletely out of the hotly moist orifice and then plunging freely, feeling my juices begin to accumulate, holding back, starting again, halting, another and another slow withdrawal through those velvety

Beneath me, within the severe limits of its restraints, the virile young form was also active. Buck Taylor's pelvis was thrusting up and down on the dirt floor, and he managed a slight backward and forward motion of his head, matching the rhythm of my own frenzied activities. His soft tongue teased the underside of my stiffened rod, and I felt the measured warmth of his breath. My intrusion stif-fled the carnal keening wrung from the depths of his being.

Soon, soon, I knew I would erupt. All the world, all my essence was concentrated at that mystical spot buried within the loins where desire and release merge with an excrutiating explosion of mind-shattering consequence. I no longer saw nor heard clearly. There was no tack room, no barn, no ranch. Only that ir-restible surging from my balls, into my cock, coming, coming, coming …

Afterward, freed again, Buck shyly wiped from his stomach with the torn pieces of his T-shirt some spotted remains of his own orgasm. Cautiously, as if awaiting orders to the contrary, he slipped into his shirt and faded jeans, buttoning carefully over the recently denuded pubic area. He stuffed his shredded boxer shorts into a hip pocket, then sat on the ground to replace socks and boots. Once again the quintessential 21-year-old rodeo star, he stood stiff-legged by the door of his pick-up, clutching his Stetson behind him.

"Sir — when — er" He had to clear his throat before he could get the question articulated. "Sir, when will you let me know if I get the part?'

"When I'm goddamned good and ready, that's when" I answered gruffly. My eyes were focused intently on his ass as he stepped up into the driver's seat, but my mind was already planning what I would do to the teen-aged black body builder who would be my next victim.

HANGIN' TREE LEATHER® WORLD'S 1st WESTERN STYLE 'TOY' CATALOG

JUMBO COLOR ILLUSTRATED PRINTED CATALOG… $3

"COWBOYS ride longer & harder in HANGIN' TREE LEATHER!" ALSO AVAILABLE-

NOW! 8mm COLOR!

'BLACK and blue

The All Male S&M film that HURTS!

Reel 1-Strung Up Western Style!

Reel 2- Dungeon Bondage!

Reel 3- Bill Harrison w / s & Leather Games! must state 21

HANGIN' TREE RANCH®

P.O. Box 81988 San Diego, Ca. 92138

(Calif. add 6% tax & Overseas add 10% shpg)

DRUMINIER GOES TO EONS' Finland Showing

Warning: when completed, this will be a sexually explicit drawing. If you will be offended by the content, do not connect the dots! photos by ROB CLAYTON

(Offstage, singing:)

(Now he sings from the song:)

(Laughs:) I'll drink to that … to Captain Goosey! (He drinks.)

(Sits on floor.)

(Singing.)

(JOEY stumbles on the words but picks up most of them.)

(Singing:)

(DU BOIS hold out the bottle to JOEY. He takes it.)

JOEY

Don't worry, Du Bois … I will … I will … DU BOIS

Halberstam can be worse than old Goosey.

JOEY

Could anybody be worse than that son of a bitch?

DU BOIS

Fraid so, baby. Goosey puts it on the line … you know where the fuck he stands … but Halberstam … he's another story … smart as hell.

IOEY

I never bin around a psychiatrist before.

DU BOIS

Goosey questioned all the men from the radio shack before he hit the sack.

JOEY

Really?

DU BOIS

He's doin' his damnest to get some guy to say you made a pass at them. He does his questioning in such a way that he lets them know they'll get a higher rating if they say you fucked around with 'em.

JOEY

Do you think any of 'em would …? DU BOIS

Purty sure they haven't. Daddy-O. I can't listen all the time … I've got a lot of slop work to do … feedin' the fuckin' officers and washin' all them dishes. Did you know that I used to spit greenies in their food? (laughs) but when I realized it didn't do any good unless they knew about it I stopped.

JOEY

You used to spit greenies? You did? Really?

DU BOIS

Another thing, Daddy-O. Watch out for George Gium.

DU BOIS

No I'm not, baby. JOEY

But he saved my ass. He told me the Captain knew that Lefko visited me in the brig and if he hadn't told me I …

He coulda been comming you. He's got that clean cut look like Sonny Tufts in one of those dumb war movies. And if you look closely at his nose it's a dark brown from shoving it up the Goose's ass.

IOEY

Lefty said the same thing!

DU BOIS

That cat is striking for Officer's training, Joey. He wants to be a ninety day wonder … an officer and a gentleman.

Shit, you can't trust nobody … you …

DU BOIS

(Flicks ashes.) I trust my Mama … only trouble is, she isn't aboard.

(JOEY throws cigarette into toilet after lighting another one.)

DU BOIS

Ashes in the toilet bowl!

JOEY

(Sitting on toilet:) I hear you, Daddy-O. (They smile.) I'm a cool cat. You know, I was a junior when I joined the Navy. Did you finish high school?

DŬ BOIS

Shit, I learned from my Mama, Joey. She's a mellow lady … always books around the house but not the white man's books. Her favorite writer is W.E.B. Du Bois. He's famous all over the fuckin' world except in the good old

JOEY

Your name .

Mama named me after him, Pops! I went to college for a year. JOEA

You went to college?

DU BOIS

Howard … but they taught us malarkey like Booker T. Washington was our hero … that hankerchief head preached that the Negro should keep in his place and make something of himself by hard work and study.

IOEY

It sounds purty good to me, Du Bois.

DU BOIS

Then answer me, Mr. Charlie, how come I'm cooking and washing

Ah … didn't think of that … DU BOIS

No white cat does. (Pauses and sits at edge of bed.)

JOEA

(Goes to DU BOIS:) Ah … did you quit college?

DU BOIS

Shit … nothin' but their bullshit white man's propaganda! What college student knows that the great Thomas Jefferson was raping his slaves while he was writing the Declaration of Independence? What student knows that the fuckin' revolutionary war was the rich Mister Charlies' from the colonies fighting the rich Mister Charlies from England … yeah, they were fighting over who was going to rob the poor people … just like now,

You know … all this stuff you're talking about … I never thought of it before.

DU BOIS

Isn't it about time, And my middle name is Garvey, Daddy-O. Mama named me after Marcus Garvey.

JOEY

He believed that the Negro was never gonna get a fair shake in the States so he started this movement for the Negro … haul ass back to Africa but he fucked up … ended up making a deal with the Ku Klux Klan … you see, the KKK wanted the Negro to go back to Africa too. They promised Garvey a lot of money to ship all the Negroes back to Africa but none of the black people wanted anything to do with the KKK and that was the end of the Garvey movement. But he was a righteous cat … the first Negro to say that the Negro should have his rights and his dignity. Yeah. (Pause.) Have another slug, baby! (Hands bottle to JOEY). That ends my sermon for tonight, baby.

JOEY

Du Bois … Garvey … Lambert … that's quite a name. DU BOIS

Remember when you tole Goosey you couldn't understand why we were fighting the French? What about me … how do you think I feel, Joey? Here I am fighting on the side of the white men against other white men and what for? The place where my grandparents comes from? Now isn't that crazy, Daddy-O? Isn't it?

JOEY

It's fucked: … it really is … (Both on bed.) Ah … does it make any difference to you that I'm ah … a homosexual?

DU BOIS

Shit, baby, when I was sixteen I was shakin' up with a female impersonator on the South Side of Chicago. Very light skinned and called herself Loretta Young. Always bleaching out his face and straightening his hair … wanted to be white … a white lady!

DU BOIS You mean . .

(Laughs.) Daddy-O, I've had my kicks all kinds of ways but I like women the best!

JOEY

I'm sorry, Du Bois, I didn't mean to … DU BOIS

It's cool, baby, cool!

JOEY

Are you married?

DU BOIS

What is this. Twenty Questions? I got my woman on 135th Street. (looks at watch. Sings) It's a quater to three … (talks) I better haul my black ass outa here as Red Lipton is gonna be relieved in exactly 21 minutes.

JOEY

Yeah, I guess you better. DU BOIS

Here, have another slug, baby. (JOEY takes bottle)

IOEY

I really hate to see you go … it's bin nice, you know? It's bin nice.

IN MEMORIAM CHUCK GOVERNOR 1941-1977

Chuck's death came not only too soon, but as a terrible blow to those of us who were close to him. During the few short months we knew Chuck and worked for him at the One Way we came to think of him as a true friend. Like us, he had both faults and virtues, and we loved the combination of both that was him.

Few people really got to know what went on inside his head. That was his way. If he had serious problems on his mind he wasn't one to bother everyone with them. He chose the personal and business issues he discussed with others, and his friends felt gratified to share and be involved in those concerns with him.

Chuck was always full of surprises we'll never forget, from a weeklong birthday party for one of the bartenders to a spontaneous popcorn-throwing battle. Other times he would disappear for several days, then suddenly reappear, full of good cheer and optimistic plans for the future that he'd been working on.

Chuck took a sincere interest in his customers and employees and counted them among his friends. He was constantly at the bar to see that everyone had a good time, and to add his own out- going, yet gracious touch.

Chuck was a stubborn and headstrong topman. It gave him the strength and energy to keep going when others would have given up from exhaustion. He loved having a good time, even to a fault, but he was far from superficial. He had a low tolerance for phoniness, and a great respect for intelligence and integrity in others.

Chuck was firm and active in his beliefs about gay oppression and tried in many ways to participate in building the strength and freedom of gay men and women in business, politics, and humani- tarian services. The advancements of these goals and his partner's success would make Chuck very happy, much more than all the mourning in the world. He was generous and giving to his many friends and acquaintances in many ways. If he was sometimes bad to those who cared for him it was often he who suffered most for it in remorseful silence.

Chuck lived and loved life hard and fast. Although we feel great sadness that he died so young and too soon, we know he thoroughly enjoyed the years that were his. He related to us on one occasion that he was truly happy when he looked back over his life because he had already been privileged to have more rich and beautiful experiences than most men could reasonably expect in a lifetime.

Ray, Chuck's partner-in-life, faithfully continues the work they started out together. May our friendship add strength to overcome his sorrow. Chuck is gone, we are there and life must go on.

Chuck, we are very sad and a little angry that you were taken from us so unexpectedly , but we'll carry on as you would want - with no regrets. As long and as well as we knew you, we loved you. Some of the hopes and dreams we all shared will be carried out to completion by those who cared for you so much. Having wept as we silently said goodby, we live with beautiful memories of you. Rest in peace.

LEATHER JOURNAL

Another good man has left the gay leatherscene and life long before his time. It's sad and certain that we and you will learn of the untimely death of numerous gay friends in the prime of their lives, one after another, should we reach old age ourselves.

The pace of urban gay life is fast, tumultuous, wearing, and sometimes fatal. Social pressures and condemnation from the straight world, night life, un- stable relationships, lack of sleep, and overindulgence in alcohol and drugs - all take their toll.

An acquaintance ponders if a mutual friend's death was a suicide as he washes down three tranquilizers with his fifth scotch and water. His bar buddy doubts out loud that the young active man could have had a heart attack, then sniffs the remains of his bottle of amyl.

A young acquaintance brags that he took three quaaludes, then had sex at the baths all night, but can't remember with whom. The young man he tells this to counters proudly that he hasn't slept for three days and nights, thanks to a diet of uppers, acid and beer.

Anyone who's been in the gay scene for a while knows young men who are burning themselves out at a rate where they will feel (and probably look) forty-five when they're thirty - if they last that long. But these gay friends of ours are not trying to die young. They are killing themselves trying to live.

Relative to most gay people, leather- men are generally better equipped to deal with life and the prospect of death because of intelligence, education and financial resources. They also tend to be well equipped to kill themselves through unhealthy overindulgence, as their tre- mendous drive to succeed in both business and night life undermines their

Some gay men fear death more than life because of the double life they lead. So many straight friends and relatives don't accept or understand gay life, fewer yet are capable of accepting the validity of a life preference for the leather and S&M scene. Even those who have divulged their gayness to relatives and heterosexual friends are often overwhelmed with the futility of trying to explain their involvement in the gay leatherscene.

Some leathermen take elaborate precautions to keep their leather lifestyle unobservable to the uninitiated loved ones who might examine their home and belongings due to serious illness, accident, or death.

Some of us never get around to writing wills and making other arrangements so lover and friends can visit us at the hospital or bury us according to our true wishes.

Death often cracks the thin veneer of seeming tolerance relatives appeared to have for the leatherman's lifestyle, lover, and friends. The dead leatherman's lover and others who cared for him may encounter undisguised hate and anger as parents or other relatives try to claim the body and estate of the deceased.

Gay life, once embraced, is not just a preference. It's a preoccupation. We escape from the demanding straight world of relatives, occupation, and social obligations , seeking the personal satisfaction of needs that the straight world denies us. In what little time and space is left for us to be gay we frantically attempt to find the social, sexual, and emotional experiences without which we are incomplete . It's no wonder many of us race headlong to an early grave.

SADISTS NH STORY

Our famous sadist this month is not an individual but an institution: the notorious French Foreign Legion. Characterized succinctly by one of its own former sergeants as "in itself a punish- ment," it is composed of "the excreta of 50 nations, the last refuge of the world's cutthroats and criminals, the Legion is everything you have heard, read, seen in the cinema."

In the interest of historical accuracy, one should point out that the "French Foreign Legion" is actually an inaccurate reference to the regiments etrangeres of the French Army. It was founded in 1831 as a force to be used in colonial cam- paigns, particularly in French North Africa, where it became famous for its brutal quelling of native insurrections. It also became one of the world's most romanticized military units, "a curious twist of fate," according to historian Tony Thomas, "in view of its true reputation as a sort of voluntary penal colony.

"In order to get recruits to serve in remote and bleak outposts in brutal heat and continuous danger, the French opened the legion to men of all nation-alities on a no-questions-asked basis. As such, it attracted adventurers, renegades, criminals and those who desired to re- treat from ordinary life.'

Not only was its routine daily life "in itself a punishment," but the Foreign Legion developed an inventive variety of quasi-official punishments for infractions of discipline ranging from insubordina- tion to desertion. Frustrating to the researcher in this field is the near-impossibility of being able to attribute properly the various eye-witness and first person reports one unearths. This is due partially to the practice of enlistees to give false names upon signing up and partially to the fact that in their quest for anonymity they customarily dropped given names altogether. Thus we can cite only an "O'Rielly," a "Rosen," or a "Kolinsky."

Nevertheless, the veracity of their accounts, complementing each other as they do, is beyond dispute. A painstaking piecing together of the countless firsthand reports results in an itemization of authenticated Legion punishments that includes flogging, burying alive, stringing up while exposed to the desert sun, the "silo," tying to wheels, en crapaudine, plus innumerable individual innovations and variations.

One early 20th century historian marvels that it is "hard to believe . that the men subjected to this kind of treatment are volunteers. They are men who of their own free will and volition have burned all their bridges behind them to risk their lives in the service of a country that is not their own … These types of punishments are not to be found in any regulation book. They are improvisations and have been developed over the years of the Legion's existence, which, in turn, maintains them religiously as part of the Corps' tradition.

'Sometimes a man dies after the treatment he has received, but this is not actually intended. Death sentences belong exclusively in the domain of the Conseil de Guerre and theoretically a soldier can only be sentenced to death in the course of a regular court-martial. But there are exceptions to the rule and they, too, are improvisations.

The most vivid description of the Legion's flogging technique that we have can be attributed to the aforementioned "O'Rielly," written in the 1920's. "We were marched," he reports, "to a sort of square, somewhere near the centre of the hutments, and adjacent to the cells. And here we were called to look upon a horrid sight. In the centre of this square was a great, thick post, and hanging from this was the inert body of a man. He was hanging from his hands, his wrists being handcuffed to a staple near the top of the post. Limp as he hung, the poor devil's feet only just touched the ground, so it was plain that when he had been trussed up he had been forced to stand on tip-toe. He was stripped to the waist, and, as he hung there, his back was towards us. "But, if we had not known what it was, we should never have recognized it as the back of a human being!

"It looked exactly like a huge piece of raw and bleeding meat, which might have been roughly hacked from the original carcass by a very blunt knife! From neck to waist the unfortunate man had been flogged to the point of being practically flayed alive — for not one inch of cuticle (sic) was visible in the whole of the horrible expanse of furrowed and bleeding flesh.

"But the most terrible sight of all was the flies! Thousands of the accursed insects feasted and laid their eggs upon his mutilated back!" At this point O'Rielly says that he felt faint. Yet he was to become better acquainted with the whole procedure because not many months later he found himself strapped to that same post and subjected to a severe flogging. This was after his fight with an officer and prior to his being shipped to Oran for court-martial. "It was the first time I had ever been flogged," he writes, "and it was worse than I thought it would be! Every stroke of the whip cut right into my back and I could feel the blood soaking down into my loins. It was as though I was burned alive by inches, and I had to bite deep into my lips to stop myself from yelling with the agony of it.'

A young Polish Legionnaire recounts his experience in this way: "An officer came with four Legionnaires and took me out of my cell after requiring me to strip completely. They tied a rope to my wrists and pulled up the rope with a pulley, so that I was standing on my toes, my weight on the rope above my head. A whip slashed into my skin; the blood began to run down my back. The whip slashed into me again, and again, and again … "I regained consciousness back in the cell. I had a fever. My lips were moving, as if uttering a prayer, but even though I tried, I could not speak out.

"I dozed fitfully that night. The next day I could not move my body without fire burning through me. And again they took me to the same place. As they began to beat me on the open wounds, I cried out in Polish 'No … no …' " The most harrowing account of burying alive as a punishment comes from "The White Kepi," reporting on the mistreatment of a Walloon recruit named Gries. "It is midday," logs an eyewitness, "and a blazing heat streams down from the burning sky, pressing one to the earth and making one feel like a dried-up wash- rag. The Walloon is taken outside the fort, stripped, and buried naked in sand up to the neck. His eyes have a mocking look at first, but become bloodshot, and after about half an hour an appalling shriek comes from his vivid lips.

"And while we stupefied Legionnaires stand glaring at him, he yells for mercy without ceasing. He is willing to count ten sacks of dates, a hundred even, if only somebody will take him out of the terrible blazing heat that is burning and stifling him! The sergeant lets him wail for a long while and then orders him to be shovelled out and laid on his bed

"The ordeal is over. And the Walloon's spirit is broken. He now belongs to the Legionnaires who execute every command , be it ever so crazy, submissively and idiotically, with the greatest hurry."

An investigator named Loehndorff also speaks, in Hell in the Foreign Legion, of prisoners who were "buried up to the neck in the scorching sand" and in an- other passage of his book he relates a visit to a desert fort where "a Legionnaire is being punished by being trussed up and laid stark naked on the hot sand. The sun blisters his red skin, and he howls and howls, curses, begs, prays, and slavers like a tortured soul in the antechamber of Hell.'

It is a fact that these kinds of punish-

TIRY FAMILISS! 11114 ments were never applied for major offenses but only for trifles and small infractions of the regiment, usually without a hearing or trial, or any other attempt to investigate the charge against the Legionnaire involved. It goes without saying that the subject of the punishment has no chance whatever of defending himself or of at least explaining the particular reasons for his misbehavior.

"A curious kind of punishment," Rosen recalls, "was considered in the Foreign Legion to be a radical cure for deserters - a kind of mediaeval torture which, by the way, was not kept for deserters only, but came into use very often. This was the 'silo' and the 'cra- paudine.

'The silo consisted of a funnel-shaped hole in the ground, broad at the top and pointed towards the bottom. Into this hole, used as a cell for solitary confinement , the misdoers would be thrown, often nude, without a blanked or any protection at all against the sun or against the rain, at the mercy of the heat by day and the cold by night. "The poor devils would be left for several days in this 'prison.' They could not lie down, for the bottom part of the hole was only one or two feet square. They spent day and night alternately standing and crouching, now in pouring rain, now in the burning sun. They very soon became ill from the foul vapors of their body wastes. When at length they were taken out of the silo they could neither walk nor stand and had to be carried. Now and then a silo prisoner died victim was simply tied up into a bundle and thrown into a corner, his hands and feet being tied together on his back, till they formed a sort of semi-circle. Such a crapaudinaire lay there helpless day and night, totally unable to move. The most he could do when he tried very hard was to roll from one side to the other. For a quarter of an hour a day he would be set free and got bread to eat and water to drink. A day and a night in the cra- paudine was enough to deprive a man of the use of his limbs. Several days gave him quietus.'

The experience of an American corporal named Mitch Kerrigan at the hands of one Sergeant Duclos affords an example of the gratuitous humiliations even the most simple of infractions could expose one to. Kerrigan's offense was to retain a wedding ring on a chain around his neck, contrary to the regulation that no such personal possessions from the past were to be kept — part of that "burning the bridges" philosophy. A "stool pigeon" spotted the gold band while Kerrigan was taking a shower. According to the report, "within half an cording to the report, "within half an hour the lanky Yank was summoned to report to Sergeant Duclos. "'Strip,' the beefy NCO said coldly.

"Kerrigan froze for an instant, and then realizing that the game was up, slowly began to undress. Duclos grinned as he watched the American remove each item of clothing and carefully fold it. The sergeant hummed softly until Mitch Kerrigan stood naked before him. Then he saw the ring, and his scarred face broke into a smile of hungry triumph.

"Duclos arrogantly strutted to within a foot of Kerrigan, studied the gold band thoughtfully and reached forward as if to examine it closely. He had his hand on the chain when Kerrigan opened his mouth to speak. But Duclos didn't wait to hear what the corporal had to say. Suddenly, he jerked the chain taut and twisted it in his fist, cutting off the startled American's wind. At the same moment he slammed a brutal jab into Kerrigan's naked stomach.

'Kerrigan fell to his knees. He looked up just as the sergeant's knee slammed him in the face. The agonizing blow hurled him into a widening pool of pain and blackness. The last thing he saw was Duclos pulling his foot back for another smash at his face, but he passed out.

"When he came to, he knew he was hurt badly. Every inch of his body was black and blue from the hundred crazed stomps of Duclos' heavy boot, and his raw bleeding face was like a cheap sausage . Only the fact that he'd crumpled forward had saved his genitals from the sadist's kicks, but he knew that he had at least a couple of bruised ribs and a twisted ankle that screamed agony every time he moved. The chain and ring were missing from his still-nude body.'

Another American, referred to only as "Kolinsky," was stripped and shanghied into the Legion while on a drunken spree. Upon sobering up and telling a "re- cruiter" named Clene to "Go to hell" when required to salute, he was subjected to the following agonies: "Clene shrugged . 'From this moment on, as far as I am concerned, you are a bleu, a raw recruit, so much raw meat to be cut up and put back together in any form I choose.

"He reached behind him and un- sheathed a short bayonet from the scabbard on his garrison belt. He held the blade so that about a quarter-inch of the point extended between his thumb and forefinger. 'Would you rather salute?'

"Kolinsky looked at the knife, then at Clene's face. 'Go to hell,' he repeated. 'Clene shrugged. 'Raw meat, then,' he said, and lightly flicked the knife at Kolinsky's arm. It was too quick to duck, and he wasn't sure Clene had even touched him at first, because there was no pain. But then there was pain, and Kolinsky clutched his arm. Blood smeared his fingers. Clene had shoved the quarter-inch point in up to his thumbnail . Kolinsky was surprised that so much blood came from a quarter-inch cut.

"While he squeezed his right arm, Clene hit his left. Kolinsky shouted and immediately grabbed at the new pain with his right hand.

"Then Clene hit his right arm again, and by reflex, Kolinsky clutched at it with his left. And Clene was ready once again with his bayonet.

"It went like that: left, right, left, right, Kolinsky grabbing, Clene just a little bit ahead of him, digging his point in delicately, drawing new blood. He began to so, in humilitation and evic began to sob, in humiliation and pain, unable to stop grabbing at each jab. "Clene grinned. 'You are young, a young terrier of a man. Still lots of time for mademoiselles left in you. You would hate to be deprived of that,' he said, and his arm flicked out again.

"This time Kolinsky felt the sting in his right thigh, close to his naked groin. He yelled and jumped back. The hand was quicker than the jump. The next jab was on the left thigh, higher. The third was just a small nick above his crotch, bloody right arm in the best salute he could."

Hurk Davis's book, Legion of Outcasts , contains some of the most hair-raising first person narratives about the Legion that one could hope to find: "One day we were taken to see the treatment the Legion gave captured deserters. For the first week they were kept nude in their cells and were given only enough food to keep them alive. They had no blankets to keep them warm during the cold nights. They were severely beaten several times a day and at least once during the night. The beatings were so ghastly that the bloodied prisoners were no longer identifiable."

Davis himself was captured as a deserter some months later, and, as he had earlier witnessed, was stripped and thrown into his cell. "The stench was un- bearable," he remembers, "as there was no receptacle of any kind for human excrement.

"All my senses were deadened, so the sound of my cell door being unlocked and unbolted mingled with all the other sounds I vaguely heard … I was only aware of light, but could not see. I felt the texture of the rough blanket which was thrown at me. My only reaction was to try to cover myself, but this was not

HORSEBACK RIDING, MOUNTAIN CLIMBING, FISHING, BOATING, BACK PACKING, TENNIS, GOLD PANNING, JEEPING AND WHO KNOWS WHAT ELSE!

Air Transportation available to Denver from most major U.S. cities through BOB ROSE, travel coordinator. BIKES, VANS, CARS, ACCOMMODATIONS - HURRY! LIMITED SPACE AVAILABLE.

88 ETE VACATION

THE LEATHER FRATERNITY 5466 Santa Monica Blvd. Los Angeles, California 90029

Send me the full info on your July 4th 7 day Dude Ranch Run and make it snappy.

$50 deposit enclosed, Balance payable by June 1. (Cancellation must be received by June 1.) For BANKAMERICARD OR MASTERCHARGE

Send number, expiration date and signature. Are you a Leather Fraternity member? Nonmembers cost is $199.

Send $1 for Fraternity membership. (applicable on joining)

ALLEN EAGLES

American GI's wallow for days in their own graves in 1954's Prisoner of War. Steve Forrest of later S.W.A.T. fame appears at upper right.

Since movies tend to reflect the realities of life, it's not surprising that most instances of screen torture occur in those historical situations where torture once actually flourished. Thus, movies set in Biblical times can accurately portray the brutality of that era by showing cruel taskmasters flogging the sweaty backs of half-naked slaves, while movies dealing with the Middle Ages can legitimately include scenes of bare-chested knights being stretched into submission on the racks of some castle dungeon.

Movies set in the twentieth century, of course, don't have this easy access to torture situations. After all, public whippings and brandings have all but disappeared from our daily lives, and tourists now wander through those underground chambers which, in times past, echoed with the screams of

However, while the twentieth century may pride itself on a level of civilization which precludes such horrors as the spectacles of the Roman Colosseum or the Inquisitions of medieval Spain, it has certainly not been able to eliminate the use of torture. At best, this century has been partially successful in restricting torture to a few situations in which, because of circumstances, its use can be excused on the grounds of "necessity" or "inevitability."

One of these circumstances is war <math>-a</math> state of affairs the twentieth century has, regrettably, not yet seen fit to suppress. Since war quickly loosens all restraints and inhibitions, the most savage forms of torture may be employed on captured members of the enemy, and since such brutal methods can be attributed to the cost of final victory, tales of these battlefield atrocities may be accepted with a shrug of the shoulders and a muttered, "C'est la guerre."

Before examining the movies' depiction of twentieth ce tury war tortures, however, mention should be made of two military discipline scenes from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries - scenes which demonstrate how the cruelties of modern warfare may have been shaped in some small measure by the harsh treatment once accorded soldiers by their own superiors.

(DAILY jams the paper in JOEY's mouth and then winds the tape around his head. JOEY sinks to the floor.)

GIUM

What in hell … I'm going to be brought up on charges of being a fuckin' aueer.

DAILY

(pushes him back into chair) Shut up!

GIUM

I'm withdrawing that affidavit, sir. I'm withdrawing that affidavit, SIL

DAILY

Hold on, sailor. There's no way you can do that.

I'm doing it, sir. DAILY

Calm down, God damn it!

GIUM

You're not so calm yourself.

DAILY

Don't get smart with me, asshole. Are you telling me you lied on that affidavit? Are you? Do you know what it means to make a false accusation against a Chief Petty Officer? Do you?

GIUM

You put me up to it and you know it. DAILY

You're crazy … you're crazy! GIUM

Then how come you're making me a first class yeoman? How come?

DAILY

I haven't signed a fucking thing. You keep up this shit and you'll end up an apprentice seaman swabbing the fucking decks, you asshole. You hear me loud and clear? (they look at each other) If you lied on that affidavit you're in double trouble, you hear me? (no answer) You hear me?

GIUM

(after a moment) I hear you. DAILY

(picks up affidavit from desk. Holds it in front of GIUM) This affidavit … is it the truth?

(defeated) It's the truth. (He starts to cry) It's … the … truth! DAILY

That settles that! (Moves across stage to JOEY. Is still holding the affidavit) If you think lying about Yeoman Gium is gonna help you out of this jam you got another guess coming. This affidavit is going to put you away for a long, long time. (Captain winds some more tape around JOEY's head) Long after the war is over you're going to be breaking rocks in a naval prison. You are in shit up to your.

(There is a loud honk on the intercom. Three times. The Captain moves across stage and puts earphones to his ears.)

DAILY

. yeah … what? Where? (Puts it down) Sonar sounding, Yeah port. God damn it, battle stations. Gium, guard the prisoner! GIUM

I can't. My battle station is ash cans port, sir! (he exits)

DAILY

(yelling at the door) O'Connor … Oh, shit! (he exits) VOICE ON LOUDSPEAKER

Now hear this! now hear this! General Quarters! Battle Stations! Battle Stations! Prepare to fire ashcans! Prepare to fire ashcans! On the double … on the double .

(There is a moment of stillness. JOEY is alone on the stage. Finally DU BOIS enters slowly. He is holding a cigarette. He helps JOEY to his feet. He takes off the tape. JOEY spits out the paper. Holds up cig. JOEY takes two puffs.) JOEY

That cigarette sure tastes good.

DU BOIS

(gets chair for JOEY) Well, you earned it.

JOEY

(very angry) Gium. You were right about him. Were you right about him.

DU BOIS

You win some … you lose some, Jack.

JOEY

But for a lousy stinkin' rating!

DU BOIS

People kill for a lot less. But you were beautiful, baby!

I was?

DU BOIS

Shit yes. The way you lowered the boom on ole Goosey! I almost split a gut laughing! You are the mostest. Hey, Goosey left his drawer open!

(DU BOIS takes out the bottle of liquor. Holds bottle up and

JOEY takes a slug and then he takes a slug.)

Feel better?

JOEY

DU BOIS

You were great! JOEY

Then what the hell am I doing here hog-tied?

DU BOIS

You got them all nuts, Joey. Halberstam, Gium and the Captain.

What do you mean? DU BOIS picks up affidavit from desk) This is what I mean. (holds it so IOEY can read it)

JOEY

Gium's affidavit! DU BOIS

The one and only … the original.

JOEY

What are you thinking of doing? DU BOIS

Nothing, baby, nothing. Shit. You don't think Du Bois Garvey Lambert would do anything like that? (he reaches into drawer and pulls out Captain's lighter. He lights it and stares at the flame) Ah is a good nigger, Jack, I believe in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights! I believe in democracy, Daddy-O. You don't think I believe all that propaganda about the North fighting the South because the North was jealous of the South monopolizing all that cheap labor? Shit no! I don't believe none of that Communist propaganda. I believe in the … (lights the affidavit and watches it) land of the free and the home of the brave.

(He holds the burning affidavit in the air and then moves to the ash can.)

DU BOIS

Burn, baby, burn!

(He drops the burning affidavit into the trash can and then puts his foot in it and stomps it out. Picks up the trash can and puts it under JOEY's nose.) Ashes. that's all. Pops. Nothin' but ashes!

JOEY

What if Captain Daily suspects you?

DU BOIS

Igoes into his act) Boss, suh. Affi … affi … what? Ah is just a dumb assed darkie. (changes back) Shit, I'm not going to get into any trouble, Daddy-O. Gium's the one who'll get it up the old bunghole. IOEY

He'll get Gium to sign another affidavit and we'll be back where we started from.

DU BOIS

And you can sign another one, too and Gium'll be shitting in his pants.

JOEY

Yes, but

DU BOIS

Gium will not sign another affidavit, Joey. IOEY

You might just be right … you might …

DU BOIS

I know Gium'll won't sign another one, Joey, baby.

JOEY

But what about the Halberstam report?' The Doc says I'm nuts.

DU BOIS

Do you think you're nuts?

JOEY

No, no I don't. DU BOIS

What did you say before, Joey?

JOEY

What?

DU BOIS

Didn't you say they were nuts?

JOEY Yes, yes, I did. DU BOIS

They're the ones who are nuts … like you said, Daddy-O. Listen to ole Du Bois, Joey. When you get to St. Albans the psychiatrists are gonna figure out right away that you're not nuts, cause you're not!

JOEY

But being with all those murderers and … DU BOIS

Those murderers? What the hell is this ship, pops? It is dedicated to the proposition of killing people. And shit. I've been around a lot of murderers, they're not any worse than anybody else … maybe better in some ways.

JOEY

I guess anything is better than this.

DU BOIS

You can bet your white ass on that, Jack! (pause) Joey, I feel like a proud Papa.

JOEY You do?

DU BOIS

You beat 'em, Joey? You beat 'em.

I did?

DU BOIS Yes you did.

(pause) I guess I did, huh? But … but I couldn't a done it

Nobody can do nothin' alone, baby.

JOEY

I wish … (he stands up and moves downstage. Turns and looks at DU BOIS) I wish I could put my arms around you.

DU BOIS

You do?

JOEY

Yes, I do.

DU BOIS

(looks through the drawer) If I can find the fuckin' keys to those handcuffs. (he can't find them. He stands up) How 'bout the

(He moves to JOEY. He ruffles his hair and then he takes him in his arms. They are very close. The lights change colors and we hear:)

There'll be blue birds over

Tomorrow … just you wait and see

There'll be love and laughter

And peace ever after

Tomorrow when the world is free …

THE LIGHTS SLOWLY DIM. END.

THE AUTHOR GEORGE BIRIMISA

George Birimisa is listed in the current (the 38th) edition of Who's Who in America. His first produced play "Degrees" opened at Theatre Genesis, New York City, in 1966. "Daddy Violet" played the famed Caffe Cino for 28 performances before it went on a national tour of colleges in the United States and Canada. Selected as the best play at the Contemporary Festival of the Arts at the University of British Columbia, and published in their quarterly Prism International , it ended its tour by opening in an Equity production at the Committee Theatre in San Francisco. It also was performed at Actors' Studio in New York City

In 1968 Birimisa received a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation to attend rehearsals in London for his "Mr. Jello." It opened at the International Theatre Club and also played in Brighton, Eng-land , and at the Traverse Theatre in Edinburgh, Scotland. In 1974 Birimisa expanded the play and with the addition of songs it opened at La Mama in

New York City. "Georgie Porgie" opened at Eugenia's Cooper Square Arts Theatre in November ber of 1968. Receiving critical acclaim in the Village Voice (Ross Wetzsteon) it appeared in Michael Smith's anthology MORE PLAYS FROM OFF OFF BROADWAY. It was selected by Burns-Mantle as one of the best Off Off Broadway plays of the year. "Georgie Porgie" opened Off Broadway at the Village arena in 1971. It ran 110 performances. Tennessee Williams said, "A beautiful, courageous play. I loved it. I wish I had Birimisa's courage.'

Michael Smith comments on George Birimisa's plays in the reference book CONTEMPORARY DRAMATISTS:

"His major themes are the pain of human isolation and its economic and social roots. He is a fiercely moral writer, his plays are filled with compassionate rage against the needless suffering, furious impatience with the human condition, desperately frustrated idealism … Birimisa's presentation of his variously stupid, contemptible, pitiful, self-despising characters, all imprisoned in their own compulsions, is powerful and painful … the events shocking . . his work makes up in self-examining integrity and emotional intensity what it lacks of seductiveness and beauty."

Birimisa moved to Los Angeles in March of 1976. A DRESS MADE OF DIAMONDS opened at the Matrix Theater on April 8, 1976. It was directed by Ann Bowen. It closed on May 10th. On September 30th, POGEY BAIT On September 30th, POGEY BAIT opened at ONE FLIGHT UP. It was directed by the author and ran for six weeks and then moved to the Las Palmas Theater in Hollywood. As of February 15th, 1977, it is in its fifth month. At the moment, Birimisa is working on the third play on the life of Joey Jurovich. He expects to write six plays on Joey, spanning the years from 1924 to the present.

Birimisa is also a former member of the Playwrights Unit of Actors Studio in

GOT IT? Flaunt it

TOP IT ALL OFF WITH A

Sunset Strip Tattoo Studio

8418 SUNSET BOULEVARD HOLLYWOOD 90069

(213) 650-6530

M? Fetishes?

A MONTHLY PUBLICATION To Aid Men in Meeting Other Men With UNUSUAL INTERESTS! Live Out Your Fantasies … Place an UNCENSORED AD saving What You're Really Looking for and We'll Help You Find It! Nationwide Listings of Men You'd Like to Meet Send for Sample Copy, $1.50.

SMads P.O. Box 712, Dept. R.B. Old Chelsea Station New York, N.Y. 10011

ÄNNESPIEI EN ov Rex portt

MANNESPIELEN 2, the entirely new portfolio of erotic drawings by REX - now available . Sharp new format: thirty-two pages 81 / 2" by 11" on heavy matt stock. Eight dollars in check or money order. This portfolio is intended for grown men; state that you are over twenty-one. allowed. The next thing I felt was a heavy stick hitting my back.

" 'Get your goddamned ass outside and start exercising,' a voice bellowed. "I could not get up and was literally kicked and beaten out of my cell. I was pulled to my feet and stood swaving in the blinding light.

" 'Now exercise, you worthless son of a bitch!'

"I fell to the ground and immediately felt a heavy belt buckle cutting into my nude body. Then the stick again, followed by carefully placed kicks. I must have reacted to the commands in some manner and at least gone through the motions of exercising … This routine of tinued twice a day for a week … " 'Roulez-Boulez!' the sergeant yelled. This meant, literally, to roll like a ball. I learned to make a human hoop of myself and rolled over and over. The crushed rock covering the jailyard intensified the pain in my bruised and beaten back. buttocks, and legs. The sergeant stood ready, belt in hand, to blindly beat those who stopped rolling. Then, after the first exercise period of the day, we had to stand immobile for several hours while the blazing sun burn bodies.'

Further on in the book, Davis describes at great length the special tortures meted out to a young Legionnaire who was caught stealing from the Company's cash box. During the evening count of the prisoners, after a long period of "the usual counting and re-counting," the sergeant had the culprit brought out to face the entire company.

" 'All of you have been standing here for a while. All of you have to take a leak. I hope so, for your sake. So all of you — I repeat — EVERY LAST GOD- DAMNED ONE OF YOU, will go into the bath house where we have this fiend tied to the floor and, six men at a time, you'll piss on him. Should anyone fail to carry out this order, he will receive the same!

"The prisoner was tied to the floor. He was stripped naked. The group I was with waited at the door to the shower room while the six men ahead of us carried out the order. The sergeants and corporals were watching and giving commands.

" 'He's thirsty. Can't you see that? Piss

"The prisoners, following each com- mand, aimed the six streams of urine as directed. Some of the men had been sickened by the brutality. The stench of vomit mingled with the odor of urine as our turn came to enter the shower room.

"The prisoner was blue. He looked more than half dead. I stared at him incredulously when I saw that he had an erection.

"We were grouped around him, two men on either side, one at his head and one at his feet. We unbuttoned our flys and carried out the vile order. When we had finished, a corporal went to the prisoner , his shoes squishing in the urine feel?' "The corporal's stick, backed by a I closed my eyes and did not see the man's reaction.

"One of the boys in the group I was with, just before we turned to leave, clasped his hand to his mouth. He was too late. A stream of vomit hit the prisoner's chest. We turned to leave the room. The next group was ready to come in. We were suddenly stopped by the voice of the sergeant who had given the orders to urinate on the man in the first place. "' 'Just wait until tomorrow,' he said. 'That's when the fun really starts. To- morrow we'll shit on him! WE'LL JUST BURY THE SON OF A BITCH IN SHIT!'

"I was sick when I arrived at the barrack but I made it to the toilet before I vomited. Some of the guys had enjoyed the debauch and talked about tomorrow's plan with eager anticipation.

They were disappointed, however. "The next morning, during assembly, a bundle wrapped in a gray blanket was carried out the door of the isolation yard and thrown onto a truck. The truck hurriedly took off. The bundle, I imagined , would be dumped or buried in

'Prisoner escaped.'

Paul Valli Barbers

13017 Ventura Blvd. Studio City, 91604 (Near Coldwater) 783-5339

Bullet is available at your favorite head shop, leather emporium, adult bookstore or wherever you happen to be hanging out these days, or fill out the coupon :

DEALER INQUIRIES INVITED

JUST A LITTLE BIT HIGHER…

ASTROLOG

ARIES S-[Mar. 21-Apr. 19]: Get into the Easter spirit. Piss

Sadists in bunny suits.

TAURUS S—[Apr. 20-May 20]: Protect your loved ones. Chain them in the dungeon making sure they have enough toys to keep them amused. Nourish them with ludes and amyl. Make sure they understand that it's for YOUR own good. so sing for you supper. Who says joy sauce and leather don't go together. Amy Vanderbilt isn't always right.

GEMINI S—[May 21-June 21]: Be cruel—Make your M put out only when he's not in the mood.

GEMINI M—Try to make your S think you're rarely in the mood…"Not tonight, dear, I have an ass-ache!"

CANCER S—[June 22-July 21]: With spring rapidly approaching, start a new slave collection. Be trendy, like an all-black or Oriental harem. You'll be the talk of the leather bars…not to mention the NAACP and other minority one you don't fit in with.

LEO S—[July 22-Aug. 21]: Start a collection of ancient forture devices, such as iron maidens, guillotines, racks, etc. Hold a gallery-opening and invite only Masochists.

LEO M—Get a modelling job demonstrating the above t

VIRGO S—[Aug. 22-Sep. 22]: Take your slave(s) on an exciting, dangerous and terror-filled outing. Try Griffith Park for starters.

VIRGO M-Join the above group, especially prior to city elections. Bring along a warm jacket. Handcuffs will be provided there.

LIBRA S [Sep. 23-Oct. 22]: Throw a Good Friday party (M's Christmas, as it is called). Have a cross-carrying parade through main street with lots of flogging with palm branches. LIBRA M—Send mash notes and California orang

SCORPIO S—[Oct. 23-Nov. 21]: Time for a spring dungeon cleaning and redecorating. Try a nice wash-and-wear decor like Larry's bar in L.A. (tastefully done in Sear's Medieval.).

SCORPIO M—Get a toothbrush, a bottle of Wind

FFA red hankie around your head and volunteer to spring clean neighborhood dungeons.

SAGITTARIUS S—[Nov. 22-Dec. 21]: The Archer, as in back? Bend your favorite M over that Harley hog and reassure him by giving him a strong hand. Remember it doesn't hurt (or does it?) to put your best foot forward either. the losing team's locker room …heckle, jeer and, of course, name calling is essential. Jockstrap and amyl required.

CAPRICORN S—[Dec. 22-Jan. 20]: In order to attain those goals this month, you must be shrewd and step on a lot of people. Beat your way through that mangled jungle, and ter some asses up. How depressing, another month like

AQUARIUS S—[Jan. 21-Feb. 19]: Your symbol is the water bearer, so forget the drought and help a deserving M by quenching his thirst.

AQUARIUS M-Blue is your favorite color, make sure all bruises are at least a deep delphinium. Black optional.

PISCES S—[Feb. 20-Mar. 20]: Be creative…fingerpaint someone you love with your favorite waste material. Shades of brown preferred.

PISCES M-I was thirsty and you gave me drink. The next time you may drink right from the urinal…through a straw, held in your nose.

presents… The action-packed saga of TIM TIMBER and his young friend, TOM … as they discover the wonders of the … 8250 Santa Monica Blvd. Los Angeles, Calif. 90046

with some frequency, this wealth grows richer with the passing years.

The bulk of filmdom's atrocity sequences from World War II make use of Nazi rather than Japanese villains. In 1942's Berlin Correspondent, for example, the Gestapo tries to torture information out of a college professor who's held captive in one of their underground interrogation chambers. Since the professor's an elderly specimen and only glimpsed briefly through an open doorway, this scene rates only passing atten- tion, but the muscular guards standing on each side of the seated victim prove that torture episodes don't need virile sufferers and bizarre punishments to achieve success. For fans of film sadism, Berlin Correspondent is worth seeing simply for the image of those two guards in jodhpurs and Nazi caps, their bare chests gleaming with an aura of hard-earned sweat.

Also in 1942, Gestapo agents trap the handsome hero of Spy Smasher, a twelve-part serial aimed at Saturday matinee audiences and starring Kane Richmond. After a brief and futile questioning session, the Nazis decide to torture their prisoner into revealing his military secrets. They strip him to the waist and spreadeagle him with his back against the stone wall of their soundproof dungeon. Then one of the Gestapo agents begins to whip Richmond across his naked chest. Richmond proves his bravery by barely wincing under the Nazi lashes, but he slips into gallant unconsciousness after less than thirty seconds of suffering - thus demonstrating the movies' often naive estimation of human endurance.

Although this scene is cut disappointingly short, however, it does offer several satisfying shots of Richmond's well-proportioned physique, and it does provide some evidence that chest-whipping can be even more erotic than back-whipping. If only the make-up men could have added some bloody gashes to Richmond's skin! Those faint lines which timidly appear on his hairless chest during the course of the flogging simply don't register well in black-and-white photography

Torture takes a more realistic turn in Roberto Rossellini's Open City when, in the last days of their Italian campaign, the Germans try to wring information from a captured Italian partisan. First the audience is shown the shirtless victim tied to a chair inside the interrogation room. Then they're shown a frightening array of instruments neatly laid out on a table next to him: drills, pincers, needles, prongs, knives, etc. - anything that might be used to cur or crush the Italian's skin. Later in the film there's a shot of the victim's bruised and bloodied face, and while no actual punishment has been presented, the effect on an audience is considerable. Color, of course, would have enhanced certain aspects of this sequence, but when Rossellini created his neo-realistic classic in 1946, black-and-white photography still dominated each one of the world's film industries.

In General della Rovere, Vittorio de Sica - one of Rosel-lini's talented countrymen - offers another sequence in which torture is implied rather than shown. Italian prisoners within a Nazi jail north of Rome are led away in this sequence by burly guards whose task is to beat information out of their victims. When the guards haul the prisoners back to their cells hours later, the crippling effects of the beatings can be seen even if the actual torture remains out of view

Technical sophistication replaces brute force in The Guns of Navarone (1961). The Nazis, desperate to learn the plans of a sabotage team, subject a captured member of this team to electric shocks administered to him while he's strapped firmly in a chair. The bare chest of the victim (Anthony Quayle) glistens with sweat in this brief but worthy image of screen sadism.

The Nazis also use electric shocks on a Norwegian freedom-fighter played by George Chakiris in 633 Squadron (1964). Like Anthony Quayle in The Guns of Navarone, Chakiris possesses knowledge of a planned sabotage raid against the Nazis, and like Quayle, he's freed from his agony when a bomb strikes the room where he's being tortured.

Although this sequence from 633 Squadron begins with a female Nazi pointing her guards toward the prisoner and saying - "Strip him!" - Chakiris is fully clothed in a white coverall-outfit when the camera catches a glimpse of him lying on a table with some sort of metal cap wired to his head. (Until recently, the movies have been deliberately vague about the technical procedures involved in subjecting a man to electric shocks.)

Massacre in Rome (1973) and Love and Anarchy (1974)

David McBride, playing a P.O.W. in the Battle of the Sexes, awaits the pleasure of his four female captors in The Touchables (1969).

both contain fleeting scenes of Nazi interrogators punching and kicking male prisoners to bloody pulps inside jail cells. (In the latter film, a gunny sack is pulled over the victim's head and upper torso in order to restrict his struggles during the beating – and also, perhaps, to keep his blood from splattering on the Germans' uniforms.) In Lacombe Lucien (1974) a French teenager begins to work for the occupying German forces after a local Resistance group rejects his offer to help. While visiting the Germans' headquarters, he hears the muffled groans of a man being "worked over" in an upstairs room. Later he sees two interrogators pushing this man's head back and forth into a tub of water. The man's wrists have been tied together behind his back. Later still, the teenager comes across a fellow Frenchman tied in crucifixion style with his back against a room radiator. The Frenchman urges the boy to help him, but the teenager simply tapes shut the man's mouth and leaves him to suffer greater indignities. In Amarcord (1974) Nazis force a troublesome Italian to drink large amounts of castor oil.

Two recent movies feature scenes of male torture inside German concentration camps. The Nazi "heroine" of an utterly ridiculous 1975 movie called Ilsa, She-Wolf of the SS displays a propensity for seducing any handsome young in- mate she finds inside her labor camp. If the inmate fails to satisfy her lusts, (which seem to be of Wagnerian proportions), Ilsa castrates him with the help of a pair of female assistants. In the enasculation scene which occurs in the first reel of this movie, Ilsa and her two cohorts strap a naked man face-up on an operating table - always taking care to keep themselves or an obstruction of some sort between the camera and the stud's genitals. Then IIsa takes a knife shaped like a pizza cutter and, ignoring the victim's screams for mercy, takes aim at the man's crotch. Audiences anxious to view surgical close-ups, however, most content themselves with shots of a bloody runoff dripping from the edges of the table.

(Castration techniques, incidentally, become more explicit in 1976's Ilsa, Keeper of the Oil Sheik's Harem when two Negress fighters literally rip the testicles off an Arab soldier who's fallen during a hand-to-hand battle. This edition of Ilsa also includes a scene of a strapping, bare-chested American officer played by Michael Thayer held captive in the sheik's dungeon with a cage of poisonous spiders locked over his head.)

Seven Beauties, the second recent film dealing with World War II concentration camps, shows a male prisoner beaten across his bare buttocks after he drops his pants to the floor and leans down on a table whose top has been folded upward to form a V-shaped trough.

Meanwhile, back in the Pacific … the Japanese try, without notable success, to equal the Nazis in terms of cinematic sadism. In 1944's The Purple Heart, for example, they have the crew of a downed American bomber to try their torture techniques on, but the movie in question merely shows the prisoners being led down a hallway to a room where unseen but presumably ghastly torments will be inflicted on them. Although none of the Americans, (including Dana Andrews, Farley Granger, Richard Conte, and Marshall Thompson), clutches his groin when the Japanese guards drag him back to his cell, audiences are free to imagine scenes of burning bamboo strips being inserted into penises or specially-designed pliers being clamped down on testicles. Keeping torture off-screen may disappoint the sadistically-minded viewer, but film-makers can argue with some justification that the loss of visual satisfaction is balanced by the stimulation this technique gives the imagination.

While both The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) and King Rat (1964) capture some of the grim realities of life in a Japanese prisoner-of-war camp, neither one includes any notable torture episodes. However, The Camp on Blood Island (1958) and The Secret of Blood Island (1965) both contain instances of a Japanese commander ordering a British POW flogged as an example to his fellow prisoners. Both floggings occur in the middle of the camp compound where the bare-chested victims are bound between two posts joined by an overhead crossbar. Both soldiers are flogged into unconsciousness . Admirers of the male physique, however, will undoubtedly prefer the flogging sequence from the 1958 movie since its victim is younger and better built than the actor in the 1965 sequel.

Although the Korean War never influenced Hollywood to the extent of World Wars I and II, it did produce one of the highlights of screen sadism - a black-and-white B-movie from MGM titled, appropriately enough, Prisoner of War (1954). Starring Ronald Reagan, the movie recounts the exploits of an American G.I. who's smuggled into a North Korean prison camp to see if the Communists are indeed torturing and brainwashing our soldiers. Reagan doesn't have to search long or hard for his damning evidence. As he's herded into the prison compound along with his fellow POWs, he sees Korean guards pouring buckets of cold water over a recently-captured American pilot. The pilot, still dressed in his flight suit, leans back against the North Korean equivalent of a hitching post. His arms, cruelly hooked over the high crossbar, areweighed down by a large stone tied to his wrists. Although it's the dead of winter and a myriad of icicles cling to his face and clothing, the pilot refuses to give his tormentors anything more than his name, rank, and serial number.

(MGM's publicity handouts for Prisoner of War state that Henry Berman personally interviewed dozens of returning POWs from the Korean War before writing his screenplay. Certainly, most of his torture scenes do have some basis in fact, but few of today's viewers would object if - even at a loss of authenticity - the pilot in the above sequence had been stripped to the waist with a shower of icicles sprouting out of his armpits and hanging from his chest hair.)

Later, Reagan sees another pilot (Johy Lupton) undergoing a similar socket-wrenching torture. The bare-chested Lupton also has his arms hooked backward over a horizontal pole — arms weighed down by a heavy stone — but this time the pole isn't stationary. Rather than serving as a crossbar for two vertical posts, it can be lifted off the pair of oildrums which support its two ends, causing excruciating pain to lance through Lupton's arms and shoulders. After two North Korean guards haul the pole up and down several times, Lupton's groans of agony turn to "confessions" of having waged germ warfare against his peace-loving enemies.

Steve Forrest, who gradually becomes a spokesman for his fellow POWs, suffers a beating at the hands of the North Koreans who take their directions, incidentally, from a comic- opera Russian played by Oscar Homolka. Forrest also endures extreme privation when the camp guards force him and a number of other prisoners to lie in gravelike trenches for several days at a stretch. (Needless to say, the G.I. were forced to dig these trenches at rifle point.) The guards neither feed nor water their prisoners during this period, and since it's hard to imagine them granting the G.l.s "bathroom privileges," one can only assume the Americans soon soil the undershorts which are the only items of clothing allowed them. In the final torture sequence from Prisoner of War, the

North Koreans try to wrest war crime confessions from a group of G.I.s including Robert Horton. After days of brutal interrogation, the Communists subject these G.I.s to a form of bondage which the movie ads described as "modern-day cruci- fixion." Horton and the other prisoners are suspended by their elbows from crossbeams mounted just high enough above the ground to force the weakened men to stand on toptoe. Since they're dressed only in those military undershorts, the prisoners' sweaty, straining torsos offer the cameraman ample opportunities to lace this entire episode with "beefcake" poses.

Finally Horton and the others "sign" their confessions when the Korean guards sticks pens in their hands and cause them to make ink scratches across the bottoms of the already-typed statements. The movie takes pains here and elsewhere to exonerate the POWs of any guilt in collaborating with the enemy on the grounds that all their confessions and acts of co-operation came as a result of body-breaking tortures.

American POWs returning from the Vietnam War also brought with them tales of rampant brutality on the part of their captors, but so far, Hollywood has shown little interest in filming their stories. This state of affairs is especially re- grettable in view of the fact that current attitudes permit the use of male nudity on the screen — thus increasing the realism of movie sadism - and implications of sexual arousal on the part of the interrogators are no longer banned. Perhaps Hollywood will someday make a movie set inside a North Vietna- mese prison camp where the guards alternately fondle and beat rows of naked American pilots.

War tortures, of course, need not be restricted to officially- declared hostilities. The "war" for civil rights in the American South, for example, resulted in those flogging scenes from Black Legion (1936) and The Cardinal (1963). The "war" for Angolan independence led to an African movie, Sambizanga, in which the black hero is beaten to death inside a Portuguese prison by guards armed with wooden paddles. The "war" against crime gave Cheri Caffaro the justification for torturing the villain in The Abductors (1972) by tying him nude in her shower and then directing the hot water to squirt directly on his unprotected genitals. Even science-fiction "wars" such as the one fought in Flash Gordon (1936) may include such tortures as the bare-chested hero being bombarded with bolts of electricity.

In short, the movies seem to argue that torture will flourish in any and all war situations, and that this torture may assume particularly savage forms because its practioners will believe their actions are serving a noble end. Students of history will find little to challenge in this thesis.

An exotically-garbed warrior prods Buster Crabbe with a long, pointed weapon in one of the chapters from Flash Gordon (1936).

'MADAME KIT'

Early on in Tinto Brass's Italian-made Madam Kitty, locker room grouping of Hitler's finest young SS studs is ordered to strip so as to test out the sexual competence of some 20-odd Frauleins hand-picked to work as informers in a classy 1930's Berlin bordello. The storm troopers obediently comply, lining up at attention stark naked for one of the most intriguing displays of comparative anatomy this critic has seen since platoon short arm inspections in the old Army. The only common denominator is that they are all, authentically, uncut. drums and clashing of cymbals, a choreographed orgy, in the gymnasium, which is an editing tour de force (by director Brass) of close-ups and long shots as steamingly erotic as anything I have ever seen on the screen, gay or straight, porn or non-porn. Upright, incumbent, posing singly or coupling doubly, those naked bodies comprise what can best be described as a visual manual of sex tech- niques.

The girls recruited to serve their country in this interesting fashion have more waiting for them then making love to idealized Aryans, however. In addition to being trained for expertise at such standard practices as fellatio and anal copulation, they must take advanced degrees in satisfying sadists, masochists, other ladies, and humpbacked dwarfs. None of which, by the by, is left to the imagination.

All of this fleshily sexual delicatessen, curiously enough, serves to advance the plot. International star Helmut Berger is again cast as a nasty Nazi (remember his melodramatics in The Damned?), but this time as a dread SS leader who conceives, Nixon-like, a plan to spy on fellow officers by bugging the beds and heads of selected whores in the well-equipped "house" patronized by Gestapo elite. Bisexual "Madam Kitty" (played magnificently, if Dietrichly, by Ingrid Thulin) runs the joint, and is reluctantly grint to the play. privy to the ploy.

Leading light among the girls is pouty-lipped newcomer Teresa Ann Savoy, an English actress who has something of the quality of a young Tuesday Weld. Not really much of an actress, she does give great blow-jobs and hand-jobs (cf. Helmut Berger), and is only rarely seen with any clothes on.

The same goes for Bekim Fehmiu, whose starring debut in the ill-fated The Adventurers, you may recall, had the most non-memorable impact since one George Lazenby essayed to portray James Bond in On Her Majesty's Secret Service. Fehmiu is truly an execrable actor, but has a good body (though somewhat underhung) and the hairest ass to grace the wide screen in close-up since the original King Kong. Anyhow, he makes the predictable mistake of falling in love with Teresa, baring soul as well as body, and ends up hung on a meat-hook.

His is but one of the many male forms totally revealed in this unusual film

(Thulin does a number with four nude "statues" which turn out to be the living kind, but he me completely fooled), including a starkers Helmut Berger as he gets his comeuppance, surrounded by equally nude buddies, in a steam room.

Special mention is due those four fag-gots who back Thulin in her intrusive musical moments (i.e., "Slip a Little Versa into Your Vice"), coming into their own as a can-can quartet with absolutely no underdressing whatsoever. Forget the pretentious philosophy ("man belongs to humanity, not any nation, race, or religion") and revel in those great bods, plus superior sets, costumes, and lighting.

All in all, a classy X-rated production, if somewhat murky in intent, and one which DRUMMER readers can definitely groove on (those leather and silver lame outfits Berger wears would make the Cycle Sluts turn chartreuse with envy!).

Everything about Up! is tongue-incheek, even the title apparently being producer-director Russ Meyer's arch shorthand for "Get it up!" a physical reaction he anticipates from hetero- sexual males viewing this latest filmic display of female pulchritude. Inter- estingly enough, gay males may react in the same positive manner, inasmuch as all those busty ladies are matched by lusty gentlemen.

Not that Up! is another "Kansas City Trucking Company" or even "Born to Raise Hell," but a movie that opens in a

torture chamber, with a Hitler lookalike (Adolph Schwartz) being whipped then sodomized by a hunky S and M type (Robert McLane as "Paul") can't be all bad. Even though the many phalli brandished about are salami-size simulations, the bodies attached to them are most definitely real.

Under Meyer's affectionate directorial hand, the sexual couplings are infinite and varied. In addition to the afore-mentioned sodomitic scene of boy-boy sex, we have sex lyrical, sex forced, sex violent, sex on floors, knolls, and cliffs, your standard boy-girl sex, giant-girl sex, black-girl sex, and girl-girl sex. One is tempted to remark that the X rating is shorthand for excess.

In an exercise of this nature, plot is merely a prop. Aha, you conclude, then the emphasis must be on character! Oho, I retort, and evade a direct answer by simply listing some of the names these "characters" must delineate: the "Ethiopian Chef" (female), "Margo Winchester" (get it? No? Look again), "Leonard Box," "Chesty Young Thing," "Greek Chorus" (of one female, Miss Nude Had enough?

This critic was once (mistakenly) taken to task for failing to consider an author's intention. Let me say that in Up! Russ Meyer has one basic idea - to reveal as many gargantuan tits as possible. And with Janet Wood, Raven de la Croix, and Uschi Digard (I'm not making this up), among others, he has found the ideal vehicles to support his message.

In the key male role of AC / DC Paul, topman in the opening sequence, Robert McLane makes a memorable impact. Whether naked as a jaybird or resplendent in Miles Standish-ish threads, Mc-Lane registers with all those requisites that could make of him a major sex symbol. And he has the balls, both figuratively and literally, to appeal to all three sexes.

Those familiar with Meyer's productions will have observed an ever-increasing preoccupation with violence. In Up! we are treated to such refinements in mayhem as obtain to uses of a gigantic ax, a whirring chain saw, countless elbows to the family jewels, and a large-mouthed piranha slipped into a Jacuzzi occupied by masochistic Adolph. A point is reached at which one can only conclude that gore is a bore.

The promotional campaign for Up! invites potential audiences to "Laugh your cheeks off!" Implied, of course, are not the cheeks affected when you smile. But it is meant to be a comedy, and if the humor is at best sophomoric and laid on with the proverbial shovel, it is at least punny enough to provoke a few healthy groans.

There is no message to take home with you, but, while the thrill might be gone, the mammaries linger on.

KSWI

Remember the night you thought it would never go Remember the night you throught it would never go ont opport you throught it would not shall not ont opport you have been and you have a MIMONT Herbot Blend for the Stud Out at the classe terminal of 100% introll impac bring about changes. Try Wilmont herbal blend and feel the difference for yourself

CROSS

WORDS

HORIZONTAL

Relating to excretion

11 Midwestern University

12 Not frowns

13 Cont.

14 Ain't

16 Pleasant perversion

17 Black -

19 Fall flower

21 Crisco

22 Best part of a crotch

23 Not your

24 Spanish sound of woe

27 A place to put it

28 Where it's at

29 Bristle

33 Eats the tops of sores

36 Wraps around 38 Atop

39 Coolers

41 A whole lot of No. 27's

42 Ejaculate

44 Chicago columnist of past30 - - cd

45 Say Ah

46 Italian trill

49 Money order

52 Erin

56 Exotic country

59 Dernier -

61 Stay that way

62 Mix

63 Greek letter

64 Do it to your master

1 Nellie

A sissy boy

- - Mr. Elliot 3

Chants 4

Do it to me right! 5

Let me have it! 6

Obtain 7

8 Do you think he - - ?

9 The back Way

10 Slow

14 Short and long

15 Two for the front

18 Balls

20 Train

22 Double gaited

28 Saudi Arabic country

29 Tha no good - - - - !

32 - monia

34 - good - can be

35 Part of N.Y.

37 Wow!

40 Rev. per min. 42 K Y

43 Rear end diversion

45 Advertisement (abbr)

47 Same as 11 across -plus

53 Color of unbleached linen

55 Suffix meaning full of

57 Atom

58 - - king or mode

60 Rob - -

ANSWERS FOR LAST ISSUE'S PUZZLE

REI Products

RACKS WHIPPING HORSES NOVELTIES LEATHER BOOKS 8MM color movies What ever

Everything for the S / M community from large racks to small leather toys. We sell movies on S / M related subjects - write books, The Life of a Masochist is one. We have the most complete line of products for the S / M community to be found. For completely illustrated catalog send $2.00 to: R.F.M.

P.O. Box 1025 Glendora, CA 91740

"He has created his own fantasy world that does not include the responsibilities of day to day realities. He is a compulsive masochist who must be punished to feel secure. At this moment he is not suffering from a psychosis, but a thorough examination of his record in the Navy shows that his pattern of compulsive masochism is getting worse, not better. Also, the insanity in his family is a major factor in his overwhelming fear for his own sanity. It would appear that his e very well be on the borderline of psychosis.

JOEY

The Doc wrote that?

DAILY

Yes he did.

He must be really pissed at me, sir!

DAILY

Psychosis means crazy?

DAILY

Yes… yes it does.

He says I'm going crazy? DAILY

If you're not already. It looks like you come from a family of nuts, We don't need the story of your life, Jurovick! lurovick

IOEY

You talking about my sister, sir? DAILY

She's in the nut house, isn't she? Do you have any idea of the implications of this report from Doc Halberstam?

JOEY No sir, I don't. DAILY

We'll arrive at the Brooklyn Navy Yard this afternoon. You will be immediately transferred under armed guard to the violent ward at St. Albans Naval Hospital in Long Island.

JOEY Really, sir? DAILY

You'll be with a big happy family of murderers, rapists … nice friendly types like that, JOEY

Really, sir? DAILY

Yeah, really. However, just to show you that I'm not railroading you I'll give you one last chance to talk. Is there anything you have to say

You know what the fuck I'm talking about, asshole. You and Lefko!

JOEY

I told you everything I know, Captain Daily.

DAILY

I don't need your statement. (to GIUM) I'll have it now, Yeoman. GIUM

You'll ah … have what, sir? DAILY

You know what I'm talking about.

GIUM

DAILY

Yeah, that!

GIUM

Ah … now, sir? DAILY

No, when we march into Berlin.

(GIUM hands CAPTAIN DAILY a sheet of paper. The affidavit.)

Yes sir. It's all over but the shouting, Jurovick, (moves to JOEY, Waves the affidavit) The interrogation is over. Aren't you happy? No more questions. This is an affidavit and if you ask me what an affidavit is I'll gag you!

JOEY

I know what an affidavit is, sir!

DAILY

It's signed by Yeoman Second Class George Giu. He spilled the beans on you and Lefko.

JOEY He … he what? DAILY

This affidavit proves that Lefko made a pog out of you. It is a statement that on two different occasions aboard ship Lefko …

(loud) I'm ready to talk now, sir.

DAILY

That on two … JOEY

I'm ready to talk … I'm ready to talk … the truth, sir!

Well, well, you've finally seen the light! JOEY

Yes sir! Yes sir! I've seen the light.

DAILY

Yes sir.

JOEY

Ready, Gium? It was like this sir. When I first came aboard I was purty lonely and scared and I didn't know the bridge from the fantail and when I …

DAILY

JOEY

I was standing next to the torpedo tubes and suddenly I felt this hand, sir … goosing me, but it wasn't a regular goose, sir. It went all the way up there and I jumped half a mile and I heard this laughter and I turned around and there he was … he was standing with this pogey bait in his hand and this big smile on his face. "Welcome to the Swanton."

DAILY

(to GIUM) Leonard Lefko was standing there with …

I didn't say it was Lefty, sir!

DAILY

What?

JOEY Just trying to tell you the truth, sir. It was Second Class Yeoman

George Gium, sir! On four separate occasions George Gium made homosexual advances at me. DAILY

You lying little … GIUM

(drops his pad. Runs toward JOEY. Is ready to kill him) He's calling me a queer? Me? Me? (He tries to grab JOEY. CAPTAIN grabs GIUM and pushes him across stage, back to his chair) He's crazy … calling me a queer? Me?

I'll be glad to sign an affidavit, sir.

GIUM

Calling me a queer … 1 …? DAILY

Shut the fuck up, Gium.

I want my confession written down … I want it …

GIUM

If this gets around about me … calling me a queer …

DAILY

Shut up!

JOEY

Gium wouldn't keep his hands off me!

DAILY

God damn it, Gium!

JOEY

If you won't let me sign that affidavit here I'm gonna sign it when I get to St. Albans … saying that George Gium is a pog, a queer, a pansy

DAILY

Shut up, Jurovick, that's an order! You hear me loud and clear? (He grabs JOEY by the shirt. Nose to nose)

IOEY

I hear you loud and clear, Captain Goosey! The Doc salwit and it's true. I'm nuts … I'm crazy so I can't hear your fuckin' order. Jam them up your ass. You're the one who is crazy … you and Halberstam.

(CAPTAIN reaches into drawer and gets tape and a piece of paper.) Gium, you're supposed to be my friend and you did that for a stinking rating …

DRUMMER: And you had tackled all this alone?

ARNE: Not at the very beginning. In November of '67 I had a house in La Crescenta with my studio behind. One afternoon four men interrupted my work: three were friends, and they had brought a stranger over to look at my boot paintings. As they drank beer and listened to music and talked softly to one another about which picture they fancied most, I tried to keep my mind on the work I had on the easel: a lean cowboy with rugged boots. I noticed the strange boy watching over my shoulder, and as I turned to face him he shyly commented "You paint those boots so real." "Do you dig boots?" He answered, "Yeah, more so than shoes." He indicated Roger, Paul, and Stan on the floor, enjoying each other's shoes, undoing the lacing with their teeth and licking the leather heels and soles. I jumped at the hint and went into the house and returned with my engineer boots on - or was it cowboy? - and then we had a field day! He chewed down on my boots like they were candy. Needless to say, he made a good impression ! Mouths were smudged with dirt, polish - but we guzzled beer between breaths and kept our tongues busy. While cleaning up the studio afterwards, this guy innocently remarked: "Y'know, we oughtta have a Club for doing just this sort of thing." That statement intrigued and pleased me, but we all just smiled at it. It had been great, though, and when I had a chance to think it through, two of those guys had wives at home and only visited the studio occasionally. The new man was right: we ought to have a Club just for our scene. There must be a lot of us hiding someplace out there. Shoe- Lickers of the World, Unite! Or, the Boot, Licking League of America. (Something simple) … All of them left except little Roger, so I shared my laugh at the preposterous idea. It wasn't a very con- vincing laugh, I guess. Roger felt there should be such a Club: Boots and Shoes, Shoes and Boots Club - Boots and Shoes? S and B Club - B.A.S. Club." We agreed between us there and then to run the ad - I would place it and Roger would help me put the Club together. My only fear was the unknown quantity of weirdos who might answer, but Roger hugged me in a parting embrace and told me it would be all right, I'd see. I wrote the ad and sent it to the Free Press: "Men's Boot and Shoe Discipline Club Now Forming, For Info. Write Arne … So I mailed the ad that night, and Roger drove off. AND that was the end of his help! Ha! God, I never thought I'd be able to smile at that! Even so, I'm glad

I went ahead with it. We became a world-wide Club with 97 active members (19 local - the rest in Greenland, Canada, Germany, Japan, South Africa, to name a few). But I would never do it again on the same basis. I'm not a really brave soul at all, and if I had had ANY idea of the things in store for me, I would have crapped my pants! Sometimes I just sat and cried because the tension got so great and there weren't enough hours in the day to do everything: There were interviews to go on - alone and unprotected!

And the replies were everything from hot and genuine, informative or sarcastic and even nightmarish threats. It was a bad period for my painting. My hands shook terribly and I took pills and drank. I don't need all that again. It amazes me that I answered all deserving inquiries alone, and also went on all scheduled interviews in this area and still managed to

DRUMMER: Attending those interviews alone sounds like a death wish. You must have been naive indeed!

ARNE: Some would say "nervy," but "naive" sounds much nicer! It didn't take long to see just how fucked up and cruel the Gay World can be.

DRUMMER: In my interviews I've seen first-hand that, despite the extreme fetish of the person involved, he almost always has a low tolerance for - not just other fetishes, but variations made on his obstacle in organizing your Club.

ARNE: I always tried to approach each man and his dreams with open consideration . The major problem I ran into was the damn wording of my ad! That unpretentious little word "discipline" caused a lot of trouble. Believe me, it won't appear in any future calls to my fellows! Naturally, the very first interview was my first inkling of my mistake. He was a tall, grey haired, distinguished, gravelly-voiced Sadist. Yep. There he stood, with a whip about his waist in place of a belt. He had, let's say, ex- tremely "militant" ideas about the Club. He had drawn up 8 pages of single-spaced, typed guidelines for the formation of a jack-boot discipline club. He did come to some of the first meetings, but was un- happy that we did not choose to follow his interests in S&M. The most interesting thing was his boots. The heels were run down and the leather cracked for wanting polishing oil. We could never decide if the scars on them were little gifts of love from conquests (teethmarks?) or just improper boot care. I must show you, though, his suggestion for initiation:

The initiation of each member should last during 7 meetings of the Club, during which time he will become exclusive property of the Club's policemen as well as the members of the council. He will be called a boot-dog, a boot-slave, or boot-boy. In the Club Room, during his initiation period, he will not be allowed to sit or stand, but will be compelled to walk on hands and knees, crawl on his stomach, cringe and grovel under the policemen's jackboots. During his initiation period he should not be allowed to wear his breeches and boots, but be dressed in old, faded, torn levis. A dog collar should always be fastened about his neck and he should be held on a leather leash at all times by a policeman. He will be made at all times during this initiation period to grovel under the policemen's boots, caress, lick and kiss his Masters' jackboots all the time, be made to kneel in front of them so that they can use his shoulders as a foot-stool-to rest their booted feet on. He will be kicked, pushed, kneaded, trampled under the boots of the policemen (his Masters) and that methodically , systematically and with deliberate thoroughness and sadistic delight.

"Apart from being a plaything for the boots of the policemen and council members any regularly initiated and jack-booted Club member will, with the Club's police permission, have the right to give the new recruit the jackboot discipline. "The policemen will amuse themselves in ordering the new recruits to take their Masters' riding boots off for them and then breathe into the damp hot boot as long as the policeman wills it. They will compell their slaves to chew their socked feet and taste fully the perspiration from their feet. They will then soak their sweat impregnated woolen socks in water and force their lackeys to suck water from the socks as from a sponge. Any member's riding boots can be used as a drinking cup for the recruit to drink water from, but first the recruit will be compelled to grovel on the floor under surrounding jackbooted feet and humbly beg for water.

"Policemen will use new recruits as riding horses, stools to sit on and footstools for their booted feet. They will take sadistic delight in squeezing the recruits' faces between their jackbooted feet, pressing their boot heels on the back of their necks, et. etc… They will drag them by the hair around the room. It will be a task of members undergoing jack-boot discipline to polish the policemen's boots and council members' boots until they gleam and sparkle."

DRUMMER: Was that your Club initiation?

ARNE: No. But without it being an official requirement, many of our members found themselves undergoing more than one element of that process at various meetings.

DRUMMER: Will the new Club in- clude bootplay as a regular period in its meetings?

ARNE: Without it being requisite, I would hope that those who join and participate will find the other members enjoyable and comfortable. The purpose of the club is to get guys of like mind together in an atmosphere of brotherhood and openness. It seems likely that with such orientation, some boot en- counter at a meeting will occur. If nothing else, we might all cum on a pair of boots and send them to a brother who is stranded somewhere like Iowa or Ten-nessee . But I can't stress enough the fact that a great many men with the footwear interest are not into everyone getting down and disrobing and "progressing" to fucking and sucking. Most of them, rather, depend on the clothes and the boot to complete the maleness of their partner - despite his having big cock and hairy ass and great body. I felt bad about one guy we interviewed and accepted. He

"THE INITIATION OF EACH MEMBER SHOULD LAST THROUGH SEVEN MEETINGS OF THE CLUB, DURING WHICH TIME HE WILL BECOME EXCLUSIVE PROPERTY OF THE CLUB'S POLICEMEN." seemed very much turned on to shoes at the time we interviewed him (by this time I had learned to take someone with me on the first interviews!), and his interest in boots was minimal. At the first meeting of the group that he could attend, we found him very much into the strong smell of the inside of a warm shoe which had just been released from a foot, and it was enhanced for him if the wearer had on black silk hose. That was still terrific, but then it became clear that what really grooved him the most was the bare foot itself: the sight, the feel, the smell and the taste - especially if salt was sprinkled on it or honey was poured on it and he was forced to lick it off. Don't misunderstand : he's entitled. The problem is that the Club is for the shoe and boot worshipper . The other stuff is o.k. to a point, but if it intrudes on the group's purpose, then it doesn't belong at that Club.

DRUMMER: Where do you suppose the fascination with boots begins?

ARNE: I've talked to many, many boot lovers, and it always amazes me how different each of their stories is, and yet the same, y'know? I remember one member who had shared a room with a buddy in the Air Force, and that fellow officer lorded it over him and made him press his uniforms and polish his shoes, even to the point of putting them on for him as soon as he got out of bed and snapped his fingers, as well as unlace them and take them off him at night. He sure was into high-gloss black shoes! He made the mistake of telling his lover of his fetish and the man severely ridiculed him for it. There's such a terrible price paid by so many people because they can't share their desires with people who understand. You don't know how many times I heard: "My God, I thought I was the only one like this." "You've opened a new opportunity for discovering myself." "I don't feel like a misfit anymore." Then, the tears would flow and I would cry right along with them, knowing the pain inflicted by secrets very human and much more common than we had known. Try picking up an interesting looking and acting trick some night by saying "I want to fuck your boots." Be prepared for a disgusted stare and the kiss-off, but, if you're flexible, maybe you can pretend to laugh it off as a joke, then take him home and do what he wants, wear him out with the suck-fuck bit, then hop onto his boots and relish 'em, 'cause you sure the fuck earned it!

DRUMMER: Do you see that changing a lot though? There seems to be more and more demand for the specialist nowadays.

ARNE: It's been nine years since I first brought this into the open. Lots has happened since then, so I'm curious to know if it'll be a lot easier and more relaxed this time around. Before, I had no sure way to discover an applicant's interest, but now I have about 4,000 slides and many stories and experiences to test them with. I can pretty much tell the degree of their interest now, where before it was all guesswork.

DRUMMER: How committed to shoes and boots do members have to be?

ARNE: At the meetings and on the trips we take, very committed. I would say devoted. Absolutely riveted by them. However, he doesn't have to live above a shoe store or be always exclusively into footwear! But if he has the taste and interest in the smell, the feel, the look of a man's leathered foot and would like to fully explore that in an environment of masculine men with the same interest, he's a good candidate for membership.

DRUMMER: How do we apply?!!!

ARNE: Along with name, address, age, phone number (if possible), send a letter of explanation with any details that might help us know how we can help. Here is one which I think of as complete; it came in response to the Free Press ad:

"Dear Commander Larsen, My vital statistics are — 44 years of age, black hair graying at the temples, good physique (no pot belly, etc.), 5'10" in height, weight 165 lbs. I am single living with one parent on old family place outside O… I work in O… in a professional area and commute each day. I have three horses, a couple of donkeys, and dogs. About four acres around the house is landscaped and this provides me with the privacy to do pretty well what I like, to wear what suits me, etc.

I have two special hang-ups - boots - and uniforms (and some other clothes as

I have a pair of the Royal Canadian

Mounted Police boots (as well as the whole uniform which I have assembled piece by piece over several years). I have a pair of black motorcycle boots and a pair of plain high black cowboy boots. I wear these last ones more than the others because I can do so in and out of stores, etc. Because I have horses, I have a certain amount of leeway in this connection. I have also about 25 pieces of uniform; cap, pants - breeches of several outfits, striped longs of several regiments (dress) and a fine pair of black leather longs and two pair of brown vinyl longs.

Once a week I go into O… for a few beers with a couple of friends who have pretty much the same tastes. We talk over our various hang-ups and look around for suitable companions to share our

I, myself, have been both master and slave, depending on whom I'm with I am usually master and require complete, grovelling service from the ground up. I have my slave pay complete homage by lips, tongue and face to each boot, speak-out clearly his service sentiments about them. In order to prove his obedience he travels slowly up the leg, usually in either black leather or RCMP breeches until he reaches the crotch. This is one moment which gives me especial pleasure. I require him to suck on the crotch or whatever pants I'm wearing wile my boots rest firmly in his crotch. He must continue to ask for more opportunity to serve and describe his joy at what is given.

To two men so far, in a good many years, I have been a slave - and a damned good one - but it is not my usual role.

I hope these general details are enough to get me enrolled in the Club. I look forward to meeting other members in my area. Yours in boot pleasure …

DRUMMER: Where do we send ours? ARNE: If you can, enclose a RECENT PHOTO. We will do what we can to introduce brothers through the local headquarters and newsletter. Everything is confidential, though, and we won't disseminate any information to anyone without express permission. So, relax, sniff some polish, and send the basics to:

ARNE BOX 70 LA CANADA, CALIFORNIA 91011

IMMEE

How about a little Spring air conditioning ? Or if you're into it - make it into a fountain! Glove leather with nickle gromets. Adjustable chain waist. Give waist size. $18.00 plus $1.00 shipping.

MARQUIS DE SUEDE

321 Bleecker Street New York, N.Y. 10014 (212) 675-8463

EASY RIDER - THE LEATHER MAN'S classic fully-lined cycle jacket. Even sizes 34 through 44 in Black, Dark Brown, Caramel (Med. Brown), Whiskey (Lt. Brown), Spanish Brick, and Burgundy. $145.

J-5-R (Rayon lined) J-5-Q (Quilt lined) J-5-P (Pile lined) 150. 165.

THE LEATHER MAN, INC. 85 Christopher Street New York, NY 10014 (212) 243-5339

STAMINA-POWER

Stay hard with extra energy and extra inches. Ancient Korean Ginseng blended with the staying power of vitamin E gives the boost you need for all stenuous activities. For the times you never want to go soft. 100 tablets, a full three months supply for 9.95. Add $1 for postage and handling.

CASINO DE NASIS 256 S. Robertson Beverly Hills, California 90211

/hat’s New…and Where!

From our new line of erotic Swimsuits and Underwear. In cere' Lyrcia in your choice of White, Black, Green, Navy, Tan or Yellow. Small, medium or large.

THE PLEASURE CHEST 8549 Santa Monica Blvd. West Los Angeles also New York, Miami, Philadelphia, Houston

Why settle for warmed-over earrings for your nipples when there are continuous loop tit rings available. And not the costume jewelry kind, either. These are solid 14k Gold. Either 14k White or Yellow Gold and in your choice of Dime, Nickel or Quarter sizes in 15, 16 or 18 gauge. That's three sizes in three weights. Your choice for 29.95 each or 49.95 a pair.

WHATEVER RINGS 256 S. Robertson / Box 651-D Beverly Hills, CA 90211 (White Gold in 16 gauge only. Calif. Residents add 6% tax.)

THE ELECTRIC BUTT TICKLER It'll tickle your fancies. Now motorized for that tingling, ful-filling sensation. Rectal / vaginal stimulation is created for a new ulti- mate. Also good for enema retention . Uses standard batteries. Reg- ular (1¾" wide) with vibrator 19.95, without 12.95. Large (3" wide) with vibrator 21.95, without 14.95. Add 1.25 for postage and handling. Calif. residents add 6%.

CALSTON INDUSTRIES P. O. BOX 46220 HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA 90046

HEDRUMMER SHOPPE

POP PORN FLASHER T-SHIRTS Give you a choice of "Master" or "Slave" for their "Too Hot to Publish" collection. In small, medium or large … $10 each.

Send $1.00 for our explicit brochure. POP PORN 175 5th Ave., N.Y.C. 10010

GAY CHICAGO JACKETS In Red, Blue or White s-m-l-xl S-M-L-XL for $20. Or Gay Chicago T-Shirt for $5 ($.50 with a years subscription). Gay Chicago is a forum of special features, photos and fun. An Entertainment quarterly . Sample copy $2, Subscription (4 issues) $8. Add 50c per copy for 1st class mail.

GPI, Dept. U P.O. Box 785 Chicago, Illinois 60690

CALIFORNIA GARDEN GROVE THE IRON SPUR 11086 Garden Grove Blvd.

LOS ANGELES / HOLL YWOOD INTERMOUNTAIN LOGGING CO.(western) 8250 Santa Monica Blvd. J'S RIDING SHOP (western) 1644 N. Wilcox LEATHER LOFT 1170 N. Western Ave. MARK IV 4424 Melrose Ave. MELROSE LEATHER SHOP 5720 Melrose Ave. MIKE WHALEN'S LEATHER GAME 5210 Melrose Ave. THE EMPORIUM 5466 Santa Monica Blvd.

LOS ANGELES / VALLEY MIKE WHALEN'S LEATHER GAME 11513 Burbank Blvd.

NO. LONG BEACH MIKE'S CORRAL 2020 Artesia Blvd.

SAN DIEGO HANGIN TREE RANCH P.O. Box 81988 San Diego, CA 92138 THE CRYPT 2820 Lytton St.

SAN FRANCISCO AMBUSH 1351 Harrison St. FEBE'S 1501 Folsom St. LEATHER FOREVER 1738 Polk St. LEATHER 'N THINGS 4079 18th St. LEATHER WORLD (James of S.F.) 839 Larkin St. THE EMPORIUM 311 Calif. St. TRADING POST (western & bike) 960 Folsom St.

WEST HOLLYWOOD PLEASURE CHEST 8549 Santa Monica Blvd.

COLORADO DENVER DENVER TRACK & SUPPLY 1201 E. 16th St. No. 10

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA LEATHER RACK 904 9th St.

FLORIDA DAYTONA BEACH ANVIL, ART & AWL The Sandal Sheaf 811 Main St.

FT. LAUDERDALE CLUB HOUSE II JAYBIRD NEWS 2525 W. Brownard CLUBHOUSE BATHS 299 S.W. 8th St. CLUB KEY WEST 621 Truman Ave. PLEASURE CHEST Club Miami 2991 Coral Way PLEASURE CHEST Double "R" Bar 1001 N.E. 2nd St.

GEORGIA THE GREEK GOD P.O. Box 12108 Atlanta, GA 30355

ILLINOIS CHICAGO MALE HIDE LEATHERS (western & bike) 66 W. Illinois St. THE LEATHER CELL 501 N. Clark

MARYLAND BALTIMOR LEATHER UNDERGROUND Read & Park Sts.

MASSACHUSETTS BOSTON THE L & L SHOP INC. 80 Queensberry St.

NEW YORK NEW YORK CHAPS 1558 3rd Ave. LEATHER MAN 85 Christopher St. MARQUE DE SUEDE 321 Bleecker St. P.C. LEATHERS, LTD. 120 1 1th Ave. EASTSIDE PLEASURE CHEST 248 E. 50th St. GREENWICH VILLAGE PLEASURE CHEST 152 7th Ave. S. MANHATTAN LEATHER LOFT 313 Amsterdam WESTSIDE PLEASURE CHEST 230 Columbus Ave.

OHIO TOLEDO RUSTLER SALOON 4023 Monroe St.

PENNSYLVANIA PHILADELPHIA PLEASURE CHEST 2039 Walnut St.

TEXAS DALLAS EAGLE LEATHERS (western & bike) Club Dallas 2616 Swiss Ave. EAGLE LEATHERS Sundance Kids 4025 Maple Ave. MAPLE'S RANCH WEAR (western) Tex's Ranch 4011 Maple Ave. UNION JACK (western) 3918 Cedar Springs

HOUSTON EAGLE LEATHERS (western & bike) Mary's 1022 Westheimer MAPLE RANCH WEAR (western & bike) Levi's 2400 Brazos PLEASURE CHEST 3205 Montrose St.

WASHINGTON SEATTLE JOHNNY'S HANDLE BAR The Leather Cell 2018 1st Ave.

WISCONSIN MILWAUKEE THE WRECKROOM 266 E. Erie St.

Sources for Leather Apparel items are invited to submit their names, addresses and phone numbers for listing in our Sources Guide.

LEATHER BAR SCE

WESTERN / LEATHER [×6+]

To the best of DRUMMER'S knowledge, all of these bars are still alive and living in Leather. If you can keep us informed of openings and / or closings of Leather Bars in your area … or let us know what we have missed - it will keep us all informed of where the Leather action is.

ALABAMA DOTHAN

The Upstairs … 314 N. Foster

ARIZONA

PHOENIX

Ramrod … 395 N. Black Canyon Rd.

CALIFORNIA

ARCADIA (off 210 Fwy)

Long Branch … 131½ E. Huntington Dr.

GARDEN GROVE

SADDLE CLUB… 8192 Garden Grove THE IRON SPUR … 11066 Garden Grove

LOS ANGELES / HOLLYWOOD Bunkhouse … 4519 Santa Monica

| Deltour 1087 Manzanita 1170 1087 Manzanita 1170 1170 N. Western Ave. FALCON'S LAIR 742 N. Highland Ave. Griff's 5574 Melrose Ave. 1941 Hyperion Ave. Jaguar 7511 Senta Monica Blvd. LARRY 5114 M LARRY'S …

Manhandler Saloon 2692 S. LaCienega ONE WAY 612 N. Hoover OUTCAST 4223 Santa Monica Blvd. RUSTY NAIL 7994 Santa Monica Blvd. SILVER DOLLAR SALOON 4356 Sunset Blvd.

THE SPIKE … 7746 Santa Monica Blvd. Stud … 4216 Melrose Ave.

Driveshaft 13751 Victory Blvd. Farmhouse 12319 Ventura Blvd. Frank's Buckeron Lan. Frank's Buckeroo Inn . . 902 Hollywood Way The Signal … 10522 Burbank Blvd. Hayloft … 11818 Ventura Blvd.

NORTH LONG BEACH

MIKE'S CORRAL … 2020 Artesia Blvd. STALLION … 5823 N. Atlantic Ave.

PALM SPRINGS

Party Room … 67-977 Highway 111 SACRAMENTO

Montana Saloon … 7604 Fair Oaks Blvd.

SAN BERNARDINO SKYLARK … 917 Inland Center Dr.

SAN DIEGO

BEE JAY'S … 750 Indio St. THE HOLE … 2820 Lytton

SAN FRANCISCO

SAN JOSE 641 Club … 641 Stockton St. SANTA BARBARA Thirty West Cota … 30 W. Cota St.

COLORADO

Our Den … 5110 W. Colfax Triangle … 2036 Broadway 1942 Club … 1942 Broadway COLORADO SPRINGS

Box Car (on Nevada Ave. near Air Force Acad.)

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA

EAGLE … 904 Ninth St. NW Eagle in Exile …

CONNECTICUT HARTFORD

Warehouse … 61 Woodbine WATERBURY

Rusty's Roadhouse … 1388 Thomaston

The Stallion

WESTERN / LEATHER [×5+]

FLORIDA FT. LAUDERDALE orotners … JACKSONVILLE

Double "R" Bar … 1001 N.E. Second Ave. Tool Room …

The Stable … 410 N. Orange Blossom Trail ST. PETERSBURG

Red Devil …

KiKiKi Saloon on … 90 WEST PALM BEACH 909 N. Tampa

GEORGIA

Mrs. P's … 551 Ponce de Leon, N.W.

ILLINOIS CHICAGO

… 1343 N. Wells Glory Hole GOLD COAST … 501 N. Clark St. SNAKE PIT …

Missing Link … 3011 Mannheim Rd.

KENTUCKY LOUISVILLE

Badlands Territory … 116 E. Main

IN LONG BEACH MIKE'S CORRAL

(213)423-9968 2020 East Artesia North Long Beach

LOUISIANA

NEW ORLEANS Golden Lantern … 1239 Royal St. Lafitte's in Exile … 901 Bourbon St. … 820 N. Rampart TRAVIS II (Knights o'Oleans M.C.)

Seven Seas … 515 St. Philip

MARYLAND

Gallery … 1735 Maryland Leon's … Shipmates … 1735 Maryland

MASSACHUSETTS

BOSTON

THE BOSTON EAGLE . . 88 Queensberry St. Herbie's Ramrod … 12 Carver Shed … Sporters … … 228 Cambridge PROVINCETOWN

Sea Drift Inn (a guest house) . 80 Bradford St. SPRINGFIELD

Quarry … 382 Dwight St.

MICHIGAN

. . 1501 Holden Stephen's Saloon … 17436 Woodward Ave.

MISSOURI KANSAS CITY

Pit … 1014 Oak ST. LOUIS

MONTANA

BILLINGS

Frank's Hole … 1625 Central Cockpit … 131 Moore Pack Trail Inn … Pine Hills

THE SPIKE

NEW YORK'S FRIENDLY LEATHER BAR

11th Ave. at 20th St. (212) 989-8913

NEBRASKA

Diamond Bar … 516 S. 16th St.

NEW YORK

BUFFALO

Villa Capri … 937 Main St., Corner of Allen MANHATTAN Anvil … 500 W. 14th St. at 11th Ave. Barracks …

Barracks 226 W. 42nd St. Beau Geste 239 Third Ave. Boot Hill 317 Amsterdam A | Spike Bar

NORTH CAROLINA

RALEIGH

The Capital Corral … 313 W. Hargett St.

OHIO

Satan's Inferno … 351 W. Market

COLUMBUS The Loft … 622 S. High St. (Upstairs) Trade Winds II …

CLEVELAND Lower Landing … 1012 Summer Court LEATHER STALLION … 2203 St. Clair Zanzibar … ROCKBRIDGE Summit Lodge … Route 1, Box 296 TOLEDO THE RUSTLER SALOON . 4023 Monroe St. Open Closet … 3310 Fecor St. at Central OREGON PORTLAND Dahl & Penne's … 604 S.W. Second Other Inn … 242 S.W. Alder PENNSYLVANIA NEW HOPE 1 Mile West on 202 Cartwheel Inn . PHILADELPHIA … 1412 Spruce St. Allegro . Cell Block … 206 S. Camac Post … 1705 Chancellor Westbury Hotel Bar … 217 S. 17th St. 247 Bar … 247 S. 17th St. PITTSBURGH Edison Hotel Bar … 135 Ninth Rathskellar … TENNESSEE MEMPHIS 265 S. Cleveland Entree Nuit . . NASHVILLE Jungle Lounge … 715 Commerce TEXAS DALLAS Chuck's … . . 3019 Haskell FORT WORTH 4117 Maple Texas Ranch . . Rawhide … 4016 White Settlement Rd. GALVESTON Mary's Too … . . 2502 Q 1 / 2 Barn … 710 Pacific Exile … Inside / Outside Country … 1318 Westheimer Levi … 2400 Brazos

Locker 2900 Brazos 1732 Westheimer Mary's 1022 Westheimer <td WASHINGTON SEATTLE THE MARSHALL'S OFFICE … 1224 Howell JOHNNY'S HANDLEBAR … 2018 First WISCONSIN MILWAUKEE . . 266 E. Erie WRECK ROOM WYOMING CHEYENNE Sam's Place … 1600 Central Ave. CANADA MONTREAL, P.Q. Cafe Regent Apollo … 5116 Ave du Parc Dominion Square Tavern … 1243 Metcalfe Lincoln Cafe … Lincoln Cafe … TORONTO, ONTARIO Barracks … LEATHER UNLIMITED (ALAN SELBY) 342 York Rd. Wandsworth

To the best of DRUMMER'S knowledge, all of these bars are still alive and living in Leather. If you can keep us informed of openings and / or . or let closings of Leather Bars in your area. us know what we have missed - it will keep us all informed of where the Leather action is.

THE INLAND EMPIRE'S ONLY LEATHER WESTERN BAR

Skylark

917 INLAND CENTER DRIVE SAN BERNARDINO, CALIFORNIA (714) 885-9151

SHALL / THE [×19+] EAST CHESTULE र्ति विश्वित स्थापित । रिविधित स्थापित स्थापित OHO

NEW YORK'S ONLY WESTERN / LEATHER BATHOUSE

ROOMS 50% DISCOUNT WITH THIS AD

226 WEST 42nd STREET NEW YORK CITY 10036/(212) 221-3250

West American Industries Box 684, Dept AA Hollywood, California 90028 As per your recent ad in Advocate, please forward me two (2) As per your recent ad in Advocate, A postal money order for Settles of locker Room B $3 each. A postal money order for Settles of locker Room B $4 each. A postal Gentlemen:

Kim Sarris Sincerely,

Num Sarris

the / compared / to [×8+] Jim Sarris have me as

DEALER INQUIRIES INVITED avoid impostors, order direct from factory.

ENCLOSED IS MY CHECK FOR $ ______(CALIF. RESIDENTS ADD 6% SALES TAX) PLEASE SEND BOTTLE (S) OF LOCKER ROOM AT $5. FOR ONE - $4. EACH FOR TWO TO ELEVEN BOTTLES - $2. EACH FOR 12-23

PLEASE SEND - FREE OF CHARGE - A QUANITY ORDER PRICE LIST TO:

NAME ADDRESS CITY _ STATE ZIP

WEST AMERICAN INDUSTRIES, BOX 684, DEPT ADR HOLLYWOOD, CA. 90028

WESTERN / LEATHER [×10+]

Our preference is for leather / levi and with good reason. The studs pictured here are very heavily into the scene.

A capacity crowd is evidence of the bar's popularity . We do it "One Way - Leather / Levi."

The INTERCHANGE SALOON in Detroit is a Leather / Levi bar of the first rank. Near the site of the bar is the famous John Lodge-Edsel Ford Freeway Interchange, from which the bar takes it's name. Just as the freeway is jammed with cars, the INTERCHANGE is jammed with hunky Leather / Levi dudes, or just guys on the make. The INTERCHANGE may not be one of the largest bars in Detroit, but, per square foot it certainly is one of the busiest. Humpy is a word that could easily have been coined here! A word of caution - the dudes don't like underwear . More often than not, you'll probably find some hanging shredded on the rafters. The homespun atmosphere of the bar captures your imagination - barn-wood , hand hewn beams, wagon wheels, saddles, shackles, stuffed animal heads, dim lighting, hunky bartenders all lead you to where it's at — a masculine Leather / Levi bar — The INTERCHANGE. The INTERCHANGE, now beginning its fourth year of operation, is home to four L / L Clubs and a newly formed Van Club, all of whom meet in the second floor Club Room to direct their various activities; perhaps the most famous of which are the TRIBE's annual "Do A Fool" Run and a Charity Slave Auction.

This year, on Thursday of the Anniversary Weekend, the Clubs expanded their bar support to include tending bar, preparing and serving hot hors d'oerves and a spaghetti dinner for the people registered. At midnight a $50.00 door prize was awarded. Amidst the tight Levi's, hairy chests and Leather, a capacity crowd partied. At closing time nobody wanted to leave, but fortunately the party was to continue for three more days.

The Friday afternoon cocktail crowd was larger than normal, particularly considering the blizzard conditions, because many guys took the day off to party, and party they did. As the evening approached, and the crowd reached outrageous proportions, it became impossible even to play pool.

Part of the activities for the weekend was the selection of a new MR. INTER-CHANGE . Contests were also held for Best Western and for Best Leather. The contests got off to a rip-roaring start when three dudes dressed in Leather parodied "You Could Drive a Person Crazy" from Company. The Best Western prize of $50.00 and trophy was won by Tom S. To get the judging started for Best Leather, Larry Lynn and Jim Donley did a take-off on the song "Sisters," with one bizarre twist, full Leather with lace cuffs. The $50.00 prize and trophy for Best Leather was won by Larry K. of INTERNATIONAL ROADMASTERS - Toledo. The main event of the evening the selection of the new MR. INTER-CHANGE - was greeted with wild en- thusiasm. The contestants were even better built than last year's, which I thought was an impossibility. The winner was Ron Ackerman who received the $50.00 prize and his trophy.

And still they partied - people were everywhere, even in rooms which normally are for private purposes (catch the ladies john some night). At 1:00 AM another $50.00 door prize was awarded.

On Saturday, Brunch was served at the bar from 10 am until 4 pm. Eggs to order, ham, sausage, bacon and hash browned potatoes were the fare of the day. At 6 pm, the crowd moved over to the Boulevard House for dinner where roast beef au jus, Duchess potatoes and a spinach salad were served buffet style and afterwards French Pastries. An open bar and disco music were just the right touch. The party was again in full swing. At 9 pm, another $50.00 door prize was awarded and then it was back to the bar for more drinking - in fact, more of everything. At last call another $50.00 door prize was awarded and then everyone headed back to the Boulevard House (commonly called "The Orgy House," with good reason), for an after hours party. Just opening the door gave you a contact high. More free beer! Disco music and this time, a wall of movies of every type of action. The movies were bland compared to the action going on in every part of the house. Anything you were into was there for the taking. At about 10 am, Bloody Mary's were served to the survivors, those still going at it, or the early risers.

Brunch at the INTERCHANGE again and still the party atmosphere continued. Fresh fruit salad, pastries, scrambled eggs with mushrooms, ham and hashed browns were served until 3 pm.

Having feasted, drunk and partied for four days, I finally dragged my sore, tired and spent body home with memories of yet another great IC function.

BOB VANCE

would you look at the basket that bartender?

A word of caution … T-shirts are in. Underwear comes off!

Another "one way" sign finds other active areas — the ladies john (required by state law), complete with vaseline intensive care dis- penser for those hard to get into areas.

YIR BIKE CLUBS

CHICAGO

If Chicago is the nation's Second City, Detroit has to be the Midwest's Second City; but Detroiter's do not believe that its gay Leather / Levi - Motorcycle Club scene is second to anything. While the number of clubs is not as profuse as, say, San Francisco or New York, its variety is sufficient to accommodate all tastes. With this article we give a brief introduction to each of the Clubs.

The first of the Detroit Clubs is the TRIBE, who will be celebrating their 6th Anniversary this August. It was founded in 1971 as an outgrowth of a Detroit affiliate of the SPEARHEAD OF TORONTO. The TRIBE rapidly became one of the best known clubs in the Midwest. Its annual run - "Do A Fool" - held in April, draws its participants from all over the States and Canada. TRIBE members have a reputation for hospitality , camaraderie and joie de vivre unmatched anywhere. Their emphasis is on socialty and fun, but they have a serious side too. Their annual Charity Slave Auction raises money for a variety of causes and is one of the most successful fund drives in the City. They are always ready to extend their hand to help those in need. The TRIBE is not a motorcycle club, however, a group of the bike- owning members have formed a sub- sidiary called the PATHFINDERS, who are an integral part of TRIBE, but extend group in the City. They formed as an alternative to the TRIBE. Although five of the original seven members were bike owners, they decided not to limit mem- bership to bikers. SELECTMEN and TRIBE worked with other Midwest Clubs in the formation of the Mid-America

Conference, A Council of Clubs designed to co-ordinate the activities of the rapidly proliferating Club scene. Their annual run — "Travilin' Man" — is held in August. This year will be their fourth anniversary

INTERNATIONAL ROADMASTERS-MICHIGAN is the only Detroit Club which is purely a motorcycle club. Required for membership is ownership of a machine large enough to maintain highway speeds. Their emphasis has always been on bike touring and bike events. Although they are not presently planning formal annual runs, they do get together for weekly bike trips throughout the Summer, weather permitting. They welcome all bikers on these trips. Every year they raise money to give a Christmas party, complete with Santa Claus and presents, to the children at the Salvation Army Children's Home in Detroit. Many of these children have never had a gift and the ROADMASTERS make an event in their lives not soon to be forgotten.

SIGNS OF ZODIAC is the smallest of the Detroit Clubs, but its size does not reflect on the size of its impact on the L / L Scene. Only two years old, the SIGNS have already demonstrated their dedication to promoting the commun- ality of L / L men.

MOBILE MAN is the newest of the Detroit Clubs. It is a Van Club devoted to the somewhat different activities of caravaning in self-contained units, instead of the usual bike tours and bike runs. It has strong leadership and is well organ- ized. We can only hope it fulfills its promise.

These five Clubs make the center of their activities at the INTERCHANGE, Detroit's only L / L bar. Some of the many trophies they have been awarded are displayed in the two 4' x 8' cases on the west wall of the bar. The variety of the L / L Scene is reflected in the Detroit Clubs and make Detroit not as provincial as some would have you believe. by RALPH McPHEARSON

TEXAS

Delegates representing members of every motorcycle club in Texas announced plans for the United States' first All-State sponsored motorcycle run to be held in the Houston area June 17,

18 and 19: LONESTAR ONE

A traditional first, LONESTAR ONE will be one of the largest joint ventures of this type ever attempted. The three day camp-out will feature as much fun, food, events and Southern Hospitality and good hot times as the men of Texas can muster up. LONESTAR ONE is sponsored by the American Leathermen, Colt 45's, Dallas M.C., Houston M.C., Heart of Texas M.C., International Roadmasters , San Antonio Rough Riders, Tejas, M.C., Texas Riders, and the Wranglers M.C. The cost of LONESTAR ONE will be $40.00 before April 15, $45.00 before May 15, and $50.00 after May 15, 1977. All Texas clubs have decided to cancel their own individual national events in order to pool their time, money and talents to produce one of the largest and most unusual outdoor runs ever given. TEXAS promises an event June 17, 18 and 19 that will be long remembered as well as the Alamo. Get roped into the new TEXAS tradition — "livin", leather, and longnecks." … That's what it's about and LONESTAR ONE will give it to you!!!

Contact: Joe Obrien, State Coordin-ator , P.O. Box 35853, Dallas, TX 75235. Area 214 - 941-4533.

IL BIKE

Right at press time, these clubs have contacted us with their desire to be listed for communication with other clubs. The names are coming in fast and will be listed by area next issue.

ENTRE NOUS M.C. P.O. Box 2063, Boston, MA 02106 THUNDERBOLTS M.C., INC. P.O. Box 307, Windsor, CT 06095 ROCHESTER RAMS P.O. Box 1727, Rochester, NY 14603 VANGUARDS M.C. 424 South Street, Philadelphia, PA 19147 VULCANS R.C. - D.C. CHAPTER Box 28282 Central Sta., Washington, DC 20005 THE SHIPMATES P O. Box 13434, Baltimore, MD 21203 BROTHERS M.C. P.O. Box 4283, Jacksonville, FL 32201 THEBANS M.C. P.O. Box 1273, Miami, FL 33133 SUNRAYS M.C. of S.E. FLA. P.O. Box 600122, No. Miami, FL 33160 BROTHERHOOD OF MAN M.C. P.O. Box 8312, West Palm Beach, FL 33407 ADVENTURERS - SUNCOAST P.O. Box 3452, Seminole, FL 33542

SONS OF APOLLO c / o The Ramrod 395 Black Canyon Hy, Phoenix, AZ 85009 SONS OF APOLLO BUDDY CLUB 395 Black Canyon Hy., Phoenix, AZ 85009 KNIGHTS OF MALTA, Western Chapter P.O. Box 7726, Reno, NV 89502 OTTAWA KNIGHTS P.O. Box 9174, Alta Vista Postal Sta. Ottawa, Ont., Canada K1G 3T9 SPEARHEAD M.C. P.O. Box 293, Station A Toronto, Ont., Canada M5W 1B2 KNIGHTS OF MALTA M.C., Nanook Chapter P.O. Box 2871, Anchorage, AK 99504 KNIGHTS OF OMAHA 514-516 S. 16th St., Omaha, Nebr. 68102 FRIENDS LEATHER & DENIM CLUB OF MONTREAL P.O. Box 1135, Sta. 14 Montreal, Quebec, H3G 2N1 T.S.M.C. % R. Smrt. Apt. 2-B 5331 No. Kenmore, Chicago, IL 60640

CIN CITY M.C. P.O. Box 1151, Cincinnati, OH 45201 SELECTMEN M.C. P.O. Box 1855, Fort Shelby Station Detroit, MI 48231 CONSTANTINES M.C. P.O. Box 4964, San Francisco, CA 94101 SAN FRANCISCO SERPENTS M.C. 735 Ellis St. No. 1, San Francisco, CA 94109 RECON M.C. P.O. Box 11102, San Francisco, CA 94101 CHICAGO KNIGHT M.C. P.O. Box A-3037, Chicago, IL 60690 GATEWAY M.C. P.O. Box 14055, St. Louis, MO 63178 WRANGLER M.C. P.O. Box 35853, Dallas, TX 75235 TEXAS RIDERS M.C. P.O. Box 61553, Houston, TX 77061 ROUGH RIDERS M.C., INC. P.O. Box 30057, San Antonio, TX 78285

LEATHER a la AMSTERDAM / GERMANY

(Sept. 24 - Oct. 8) Join your fellow fraternity brothers for Oktoberfest in Munich where they drink more than beer. Stroll the red-light district in Amsterdam and Berlin where breakfast is served for both you and your night-time visitor.

GRECIAN SPLENDOR (Sept. 17 — Oct. 3)

Let the soldiers entertain you at the cafe in Athens. Watch your leather buddy soak up Aegean sun during your 3-day island cruise. DELUXE - All Meals $1595

THE ITALIAN BELLISSIMO (Sept. 15-29)

Roman history comes to life. Browse through the rock of the Spanish Steps — the timeless beauty of Florence and canal-ladden Venice not only display their Renaissance treasures, Experience the warmth of the Mediterranean sun in Capri and Sorrento where the whole body experiences Italian heat. $1395

1) All tours are completely escorted with full transportation to all points of call

2) Prices include all taxes, and transfers. Departure and airport taxes not included.

3) Prices may vary based upon 14-21 Day GIT economy airfare pending CAB approval.

Add-on air fares available from most major U.S. cities

(213) 462-7578

Bob Rose Travel Coordinator

Space is limited. Deadline June 1, 1977

THE LEATHER FRATERNITY

5466 SANTA MONICA BLVD. LOS ANGELES, CALIF. 90029

Please send additional information on the following tour(s):

Grecian Splendor

Leather a la Amsterdam & Germany

The Italian Bellissimo

Address____ the leather fraternity

The Adventures of 4CA by Victory

SOLE DISTRIBUTOR B.J. PRODUCTS DIVISION PACIFIC WESTERN DISTRIBUTING CORP.

57 HALLAM STREET, SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94103 (800) 227-4318 • In California (415) 621-4900