H H O 1

MALECALL/Dear Sir:

As DRUMMER welcomes the new year with Issue 26, it wouldn't hurt to stop for a moment and remember some of the high and low points of the old year. Not all the events of 1978 were too jubilent: some political losses around the country, the tragedy here in San Francisco in November which lost us two good friends in higher circles. But we also can remember the triumphant Gay Pride week, the successful trouncing of John Briggs' misbegotten Proposition 6 in California. The win in Seattle, Anita's fall from grace, the magnificent candlelight march of the 30,000 gays to commemorate the passing of Harvey Milk and George Moscone as well as the promise to march on Washington D.C. July 4th in Harvey's name. And closer to home, DRUMMER celebrated its third anniversary .

SON OF DRUMMER - A BUMMER

About two weeks ago I received SON OF DRUMMER in the mail. My issue was cover-priced at $4.95. I had ordered my copy on 3/14/78 and had written to you when it had not yet appeared in print on 6/13/78. I even talked to a couple of you guys on the phone and I was told that it (SÓN OF DRUMMER) had turned into a much LARGER issue because there was so much good stuff to put into it and that

I think I've been bullshitted. Not only was the flimsy little tabloid I got a big disappointment, but I didn't even "save<br>a buck on our pre-published price …", as the ad read, for ordering months in advance . It doesn't even rate in quality or size to THE BEST OF AND THE WORST OF DRUMMER, and it's offered for six dollars (the original cover price). Don't misunderstand me. The quality of the material in SON OF DRUMMER is very good. But what the hell happened to the rest of it!

DRUMMER's Christmas Issue (No. 25) was our biggest press run and the fattest DRUMMER to date. This issue is only eight pages lighter, has a longer press run and contains our annual calendar, this time filled with the art of the one and only HARRY BUSH. There is far too little of Harry's work around and we are proud to bring you these new drawings.

In my estimation, I think you owe a lot of guys who are loyal DRUMMER readers and subscribers an explanation at the very least. And sticking an issue of ALTERNATE in the envelope along with S of D isn't what I mean, It also doesn't help when each succeeding issue of DRUMMER seems to take a little longer in coming, I think it goes without saying that you guys have got the best leather oriented mag around and that a lot of leather minded men dig the hell out of it. Why fuck it up?

The ALTERNATE is enjoying a face-lift and a resultant increase in circulation . We knew we had the formula. It was merely a matter of foremat, DRUMMER has had a number of renovations in these three years, most of them, we assume, being in the right direction. We have attracted more new talent, artists, photographers and writers in our field than we knew existed. And we have published more of them, we believe, than any other gay publication. Judging from the irate calls when readers can't find us on the stands, somebody out there must like us.

I'd like a reply to this letter if at all possible. Maybe I missed something.

lohn Springfield, OHIO

Thank you for your letter.

We couldn't agree with you more. SON OF DRUMMER was a big disappointment to us, especially since it was so long in the making. Because it called for sixteen pages of color, we turned to larger publishing houses to produce it.<br>First Mandate accepted it, then upon delivery in New York, rejected it as "not<br>in their image." Blueboy Magazine in Miami then accepted it and sent it to New<br>York to be printed. This process lasted a full three months before we saw proofs. We made our corrections, and upon<br>Blueboy's insistence, we deleted the<br>centerfold and lowered the price of 4.95. Months more went by and no magazines. Then we discovered that SON OF DRUM-MER was on newstands from coast to coast alongside Blueboy. And did the complaints ever come in. We complained ourselves about the quality of the publishing (thin paper, bad color, wrong color). To date, we have received no copies of the magazine from Blueboy, nor money, nor even our artwork back. Liti-

In the area of politics, in Gay liberation and in our own publishing there is much left to do. We just received PLAY-BOY's twenty-fifth anniversary issue, which reminds us just how far gay publishing has to go. Over 400 pages crammed with advertising, for one thing, and excellent graphics, writing by America's top names creating a breathtaking result. Our humble congratulations to publisher Hugh Hefner and his far flung organization . Playboy has accomplished much good in the area of civil rights, first amendment rights and even gay rights. It is a powerful and beautiful beacon for personal freedom in the overcast created by the right-wing Law'norder crowd, May the Bunny enjoy another twenty-five bountiful years.

gation is in process and we have learned our lesson. DRUMMER will publish its own material henceforth. Unfortunately the poor quality of SON OF DRUMMER does reflect on DRUMMER, not Blueboy.

As for your purchase, we went out and bought copies from a distributor to fulfill our direct mail obligations. Those who purchased the magazine from us for more than the cover price, got refunds.

Of the major gay publications in the country today, DRUMMER is gay owned and operates without outside money. We either make it or fail, completely on our own. In a business strewn with the bones of defunct publications, DRUMMER's success is unusual, particularly without either a straight or gay personal fortune<br>to depend on. Not too many gay publications are gay-owned, either.

Our subscribers and readers will note that DRUMMER's publishing schedule is picking up and issues are being released much closer to our monthly deadline. This is happening mainly because of loyal and interested persons like you who identify with our efforts.

KUDOS

DRUMMER is the best damn magazine in America. Period. Hot men, hot photos, hot and well-written articles - it gets better every issue, unlike those other "gay" rags with their gauzy and "aesthetic" shots of guys trying to look nonchalant. Your men are for real. Jack Fritscher's extended dialogue with the NYC bondage master in Issue No. 24 was especially right on. More, more! The same issue's "Drummer Inspects the Quarters " was a masterwork of docu-sex. I have a subscription - I think (several months and a few unanswered letters passed before my first issue - 20 - arrived . Since then they've been coming regularly). Let me know when my subscription is up for renewal. I don't want to miss an issue.

I agree with the letter from "Y" in Issue No. 24 - a hot, tied-down session or article on college fraternity (or otherwise ) initiation would be tremendous. And when will the long awaited "Movie Mayhem" book be available? I wish you'd Mayhem" book be available. I man bring that feature back to DRUMMER.

G.W.

St. Louis, MO

LIBRARY APPEAL

By chance, into our collection of political and social materials have come four issues of your magazine Drummer, and it occurred to me to wonder if any library is collecting it. I would be inclined to say no, for it is disturbing to the uniformed. However, it has happened too many times in history that some book or publication was considered disturbing and

COMES A HORSEMAN: COWBOYS AND MOUNTIES

San Francisco, Cow Palace, 34th GRAND NATIONAL RODEO, Thursday : Cattlemen's Night. The 4WD trucks and horse vans stand empty in the foggy parking lot next to hot steaming piles of manured straw. The nightwind breeds a chill. Inside the Cow Palace, working cowboys have shelled out up to eight bucks a head for box seats to watch the show cowboys strut their stuff in the annual Grand National.

Over the Cow Palace entrance, a huge inflated bull rocks gently in the Bay breeze, tugging at its silver guywires. A San Francisco cop, stepping out for a smoke, sets his highpolished boot down in the middle of a hot horse clot. He says, "Shit" and doesn't give a fuck who hears. He's a City cop, after all, and he's watched over these cowjockeys running their own slick show for over a week.

COWBOY FIGHT NIGHT

On top if it all, tonight, Thursday, Cattlemen's Night is COWBOY FIGHT NIGHT. That's all the City cop needs: cowboy fights. That's what sounds real revved up to me. So I head off to a special concession stand to check out the two charity boxing bouts.

"Sounds unsanctioned to me," I say to the cowboy behind the Magic Marker "Cowboy Fight Night" sign that says two bucks.

"Went to 3 AM last year," he smiles. The blond cowgirl on his hip is all teeth and Dentine. "Ah lahked hit," she

"So what's the card?" I ask.

"First bout's between a rodeo cowboy and a working cowboy. The second's between a rodeo cowboy and one of them Royal Canadian Police,' "Till 3 AM?"

"Ah luuved it," the blond says. "A- corse hit went on way tchew long. All that sweat 'n' blood."

Two bucks, huh?"

"They be see the bejesus outta one 'nother," she says, "but hit's fer a real gudd cause." She pops her Dentine. Cancer.

"Terrific," I say. Would a man trust those big white teeth anywhere near his dick? "Ya wanna buy a bumper sticker,"

Her good old boy is taking aim at the floor with a good thick hawk of Red Man Chew.

I read the stickers. They're good index of cowboy head: WHEN I GROW UP, I WANNA BE A COWBOY; TEAM ROP- ERS GET IT TOGETHER; I'M A ROPE-A -HOLIC.

"Ah lahk this 'un," she says. "Ain't it kewt?" She holds up a red-on-white label: IT'S CUDDLIN' COWBOYS I LIKE. "Which'un yew lahk, Del?" she asks.

Young Del, coming up with another long-distance chaw, just points at: TO ALL YOU VIRGINS, THANKS FOR NOTHIN'.

"Which'un yew lahk?"

I hand her a buck. "This one," I say. "Oh, that's real kewt," she says. It's a bumper sticker for my '66 Ford pickup: ONLY COWBOYS ARE TOUGH ENOUGH TO GET ENOUGH.

Young Del just spits off a hefty brown spurt. "Which way's the Royal Canadian Mounted Police?" I ask. Royal Canadian Mounted Police: I like saying those words. They roll easy off the tongue.

"Yew jes' folla the whatt lahn, dar-lin' ."

COWBODY PISS

The hall circling the Cow Palace is jammed with milling cowboys and their bandana women. These guys are authentics : working cowboys. Every direction's a sea of cowboy hats. Tall fuckers. Straight as sticks. A different DNA structure: taller than average, weathered WASPs. This is their place. Good faces. Hands cracked dry. Nails split. They cup the matches instinctively against the non-existent wind to light the Winstons stuck in their mouths. Marlboro may have the image, but these cowboys prefer Winstons.

They stand in groups, shuffling their scuffed pointed-toe boots. New jeans, unwashed, hang baggy and stiff off their butts. They favor western shirts tucked into tooled belts. They move their big bodies easy inside their downfilled quilted jackets. And on top of everything rides the peacockery of straw and felt and

I hit the toilet,

Seven white porcelain troughs, eight feet long, hang around the busy room. The men smoke, very intent on their business in hand. Talk stops when cowboys piss. Piss is serious business that a man works out alone standing shoulder to shoulder with other men. Caught in the middle of all this handheld pissing

cowboy meat, I develop peripheral vision better than a walleyed pike. I pretend I'm pee-shy and hang onto my dick pulled out of my 507's through a hole cut in the pouch of my jockstrap. The cowboy on the right pisses like a horse. The cowboy on my left stands cupping his joint, waiting to piss a good healthy piss tanked up from matching his buddies beer for beer. All around us in the cold tile room is silence: only boots shuffling into place to piss; only the sound of zippers and buttonflies being opened and closed; only the insistent splash of hot beer piss streaming golden down the urinals, lengthy enough to lay a man back into; only the occasional hiss as a burning butt lands in the streaming piss, turns soggy grey, then brown, then disintegrates down to its filter tip, swirling in the vortex of cowboy piss circling down the bubbling brass drain screen.

Above my head a sign reads: WATER CONSERVATION. THE FLUSHING OF THESE URINALS IS CONTROLLED

God! How do you get a job as a timer?

Cowboy dicks are bigger than average . Must be the natural selection of men who survived heading West generations ago. These 'boys have got good genes in their jeans.

Finally, two cowboys, one after the other, have pissed out on my right. The cowboy on my left is still straining at his single shot. I figure I better let fly when a third cowboy sidles up on my right. He's a big fucker. His cock is proportionate: thick, long, and uncut. No disappointment in that department. He's a big man and he pisses a big man's big piss. have to salute that,

I stream out with an aim directly into the froth churned up by his flowing cock. My leak primes the cowpoke to my left who finally releases his piss load. He breathes a huge sigh of relief. I finish, stick it back inside my jock, and button here tonight, all decoyed appropriately for a straight rodeo. Men acting out their best behavior so as to "pass" without hassle, in order to get an eyeful no up-front liberationist is ever gonna be privy to.

As I go out the swinging double-doors to the hall, old Blondie with the Dentine is giving Del a bad time. "Whyn'chew," she says, "jes' go vaccinate a dog or something'!"

Del looks at her, spits a wad of juice on the asphalt, and heads where she can't follow: into the can to take his dick in his hand and piss his troubles away.

Heterosexuals don't always have it easy.

ROYAL CANADIAN MOUNTED POLICE

Still an hour before the Grand National starts. The halls are a mass of men. They stand and drink. Most of their women have tired of the mantalk and have gone inside to plop their fannies into the wooden seats. Their men wander, beer in hand, from group to group. Cowboys , like steers, travel in herds. Their voices rise to a deep roar in the covered hallway.

A young Mountie walks by. He is handsome, groomed, aloof. He is on show. He is somehow superior to all of this. The hall full of men is here for relaxation . The Mountie is here on serious drill. He is a member of the RCMP Ride. He orders coffee, Black, He is covered with his blue jumpsuit. A piece of straw clings to his quality rump. His seat is shiney black with horse grease and with polish rubbed off his burnished leather saddle. His eyes focus on mid-distance. He is part of the Grand National, yet he is untouched by it. He sips his coffee and strides off in his brown boots with the silver spurs hiked out below the jumpsuit legs.

I follow him.

ONLY COWBOYS ARE TOUGH ENOUGH TO GET ENOUGH

The barns are open to the public. He heads for the RCMP stalls. His walk is slow, easy. He moves the moves of a man accustomed to being watched.

A little country fart, in a quilted green-down jacket and straw cowboy hat, runs out from ENTRANCE BOXES 42- 52 and spits a white hawker. Spitting is the cowboy pasttime. He almost hits the RCMP.

Neither man notices their near collision . Straight guys seem to be invisible to each other. Either one of these men is worth a study-grant funded by The Bike Supporter Foundation.

I follow the Mountie. We take a right cut out of the hallway crowd down a corridor to the RCMP stalls. The RCMP has hung Canadian travel posters on the grey walls. TRAVEL ALBERTA, one says. Another, more telling, reads: CANADA – SO MUCH TO GO FOR.

With that last one, their tourist bureau ain't just whistlin' Dixie. (If Mounties always get their man, do men always get their Mounties?)

THE LOOK

Back in the stalls are nearly forty young mounted cops. Working. Grooming their horses. The cops are mostly sandy blonds. They nearly all have clipped regulation moustaches. Their arms are muscular straight arms, made muscular from athletics and real work more than from a titty-pump gym membership. They are singularly handsome. Selected. Handpicked. Half of them look like Jan-Michael Vincent on a very good day. Any PR group always comes down to the bottomline of THE LOOK.

These forty Mounties have THE LOOK together the way Mounties should present it. The cowboys in the hall have perfected their LOOK. Men are diverse and different and one LOOK is no better than another, just as one sexual preference is no better than another. Diversity is, especially in men, simply interesting.

Straight men should never object to gay men who are out standing on the corner watching all the straights go by. Straights ogle girls in ways no gay man would ever stare at straight men. Everyone agrees that you can't go to jail for what you're thinking. Besides, any straight man who has his own masculine shit together, considers a gay glance tossed his way as the compliment it is meant.

BRIDLES AND GROOMS

The sound system in the RCMP barn plays country-western: "You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore." From the main arena, the sound of the Big Band warming up floats over the horses the cops are

grooming in their individual stalls. The best sound is the smooth wipe of bristle brush moving in a fast Aerowax buff over the heavy brown leather gauntlets held in one Mountie's hand.

Another Mountie has his horse in the aisle between the stalls. He is bent over, holding his horse's hoof tight against his own thigh. He polishes the perfect hoof with dark oil. His coveralls are dropped to his waist and secured by his knotting the arms around his belt. On his white cotton teeshirt, over the left pec, the

RCMP motto reads in blue: "Maintiens le Droit-Royal Canadian Mounted Police .

Stall to stall, each scene is a crib of pre-rodeo activity. With a curry comb in each hand, one darkly handsome RCMP doublestrokes his horse. The combs are held to the palm of his hands by brown leather straps that cross the back of his hands. The rich brown leather rides tight over the gristle and veins pumped up by his heavy grooming.

Another cop moves by, pushing a green wheelbarrow topped by a pitchfork stuck in fresh straw. Another follows him carrying the red-and-white guidon flags that fly at the end of their seven-pound battle lances. Another cop sits talking to cowboy tourists while his horse, already groomed and waiting in its stall, splays out all fours quite neatly and pisses a heavy horsestream into the hay.

No one normal seems to notice,

The Mountie stands up, puts his brown boot up on the blue tack box. His boots ride up to his knee where a yellow stripe runs up the outside of his dark-blue riding breeches. His uniform is wool, with a tongue-twisting weave to its surface. His red tunic hangs inside-out on the stall to keep it clean from leather polish, horse sweat, and the dust of the barn.

"On the Ride," he is saying, "as long as you're single, you're cheap and easy to move. One of the men is getting married next month. I've been on the Ride for five years."

He has his cowboy audience webbed into his easy spiel. This guy is genuine.

'Anywhere you go in Canada, you just have loggers and miners. Some days it's so nice that, before I was with this detachment, I'd take off for the day. I was stationed in a small town, a zilcho town, so I joined the Ride to be out where there was some life for a change. I figure I'll go back, when this is all over, to British Columbia. A nice little fishing town.'

"Let me borrow your towel a second." Another Mountie is wiping his horse- wet hands. On his tack box is a sticker: ALL CANADIAN DRINKING TEAM, I keep looking for the RCMP who looks like he might be the fighter ready to take on the boxing cowboy. Not one of these young cops has a face with the slightest mar.

The blue tack boxes are stencilled with each horse's name: Gaston, Lancer, Lusty, Jock, Fanny, Eros, and Gay.

"This is a tough section to get on." The Mountie talks earnestly to a lady with lips slightly parted in a socially ac- ceptable signal of lust. "The cream of the crop is here. The work is hard. We're all into sports. We're more athletic than your average guy. What the Ride boils down to is a lot of physical labor. Some guys ride for pleasure. The average guy never had much to do with horses before coming on with this detachment. Horses are my hobby. Always have been. Ever since I was a kid."

The lady likes his voice. I like his voice.

MAMAS, DON'T LET YOUR BABIES GROW UP TO BE COWBOYS

Back in the main arena, the live orchestra busts out into "June Is Busting Out All Over" for no particular reason other than the melody is uptempo and the 12,000 crowd shifts expectant in the stands. Broadway follow-spots roam the chip-covered floor of the Cow Palace arena. John Kennedy, I think, was nominated here. Tonight, men in levis and leather are prepping to wrestle it out with

Below, in the chutes, cowboys move among their big red-and-white Winston

carryall bags like gladiators restless to enter the Coliseum. Some stand patiently. Others stretch nervously like any-athlete before a competition. A couple of cowboys move through isolated exercises with the grace of danc fast to the horn in his crotch.

Another real Looker strides back and forth, kicking chips. He has tucked his gloves, soft and easy, into his chaps belt. The top glove folds pendulously forward under its own leather weight. It protrudes out over his fly like a five-fingered cock, crossed on the back of the knuckles with white chalk. His whole package flops as he paces, psyching himself up. His eyes are the same light blue as 10 mg of valium.

These are all men of heavy body consciousness . They project, in their moves, the moves and sizes of the animals they tend, brand, curry, train, mount, and ride. To the breaking point. They pride themselves on mastering beasts.

In minutes, they're riding bareback, hard against the animal, the clock, and the crowd. Hot fuckers. They hold on with one hand planted, by regulation, square in the crotch. Their spurs must stay higher than their shoulders to score. They lean back like highdivers on the bucking horses, holding the horn with one fist - like trying to carry a 1,250 pound leather suitcase that keeps jumping out of your hand.

RODEO PICK-UP MEN

When the Pick-Up Men ride near on horseback as the clock counts down, the bronc buster grabs the Pick-Up around the shoulder and chest, swings off the bronco, and climbs behind the Pick-Up Man's saddle. He holds for the briefest moment in the spot. Two men on one horse. Then he lets go, and drops easy to the turf.

The triumphant spotlight hits him as he parades his attitude, loose and lean and mean, really rolling his legs and butt, shit-kicking through the applause to bend from the waist and retrieve his cowboy

hat. His chaps accent the dark blue vee of his crotch.

CALF ROPING

When a man comes charging on horseback from a wooden chute to lasso a headstart calf, he jumps off his horse and runs his leather glove down the length of rope to the struggling animal. He picks up the fighting side of beef and slams it down, tying its hooves together with a four-foot length of rope.

Puts a man in mind of a Rollerball Rodeo with men running naked from chutes, chased by mounted cowboys who lasso them, wrestle them to the ground, and hogtie them down.

In twelve seconds flat, a good show cowboy can take off after a running animal, pick him up and lay him down, bound and struggling in the middle of the dusty arena.

The announcer talks of "great beauty, strength, and endurance." He talks of the animals the way the crowd sees the cowboys: noble in the star-spangled Grand National night. But the Big Band swings comically into "Ragtime Cowboy Joe" and reduces nobility to honkytonk, third-rate romance, and lowrent rende-VOUZ .

RCMP FREUDIAN FOLLIES

The Royal Canadian Mounted Police enter riding to "Cabaret," oh chum, and dust up the arena with fourfooted precision the Rockettes never knew. They drill in total discipline. They ride in stars, circles, figure 8's, wheels, and cloverleaf formations. They are beautiful in their redcoats and yellow-striped blue riding breeches, all formally trimmed off in brown leather. Each man carries a nine-foot battle lance topped with the fluttering red-and-white guidon.

No wonder the Mounties are the only police force in the world to be pictured

The Mounties form a large circle, All the horses' heads face inward. Each lance and guidon is raised erect, then as one, they stretch their right arms out in slow motion and the lance-tips meet in the center. A priapic merrygoround. Then center turf inside the right of horses' heads, inside the ring of Mountie backs turned on the silent audience. The Mounties all face one another, intent in an incredible energy circle that then raises all the lance points all together, up, slowly, then faster and higher, rising into a blaze of light and music and cheering to a standing ovation.

This cowboy crowd appreciates a potency show when it sees one.

RCMP LOCKERROOM

Outback, behind the RCMP horse barns, the Canadians parked a heavy semitrailer rig. Inside, the trailer is a fully equipped standard lockerroom. The beige metal lockers are kicked raw from boot scuffs at the bottom. Through the open door, I watch the Mounties return from the arena. They light up. They tip off their broad brimmed hats. They unbutton their red coats. They wear suspenders over a dark blue sweater whose neck shows only a vee of white cotton tee-shirt . They flip the suspenders off and away, and pull their blue coveralls on over their breeches and boots.

Young girls ask for autographs. I just write down the semi-truck's license plate: QUEBEC L23040, with the slogan, "JE ME SOUVIENS."

COMING ATTRACTIONS

From inside the arena, the announcer's voice can be heard in the cold night air. He is pumping for the Junior Grand National Rodeo to be held next spring. He asks for the support of the audience. "After all," he says, "these are the people who put the meat on your table, and they should be encouraged."

1

E By David R. Hurles ITHOUT A NET 1 COR, SEX W

Have you ever passed a newstand and had a magazine yell out to you: "Buy me!" The cover grabs your gonads, and a quick flip through the pages twists your nuts until you part with the lousy bucks. You skulk off, with the rag under your am, ready for a heavier look-see back at your place. You know those "dirty magazine blues." That's how HIGH PER-FORMANCE accosted me, got my adrenaline in gear, and lead me down the primrose path to a scene - if not primal, then certainly, Neanderthal.

BLOODY GOOD

So what's this new rag, and what's its scene? HIGH PERFORMANCE is a new LA magazine about "performance art." Performance art is probably a bigger part of your nightlife than you realize. Besides, a magazine cover showing a man blindfolded with hospital surgical gauze, bound, and covered with entrails while blood is poured onto his face and into his mouth can't be all bad,

SOCIALLY REDEEMING BULLSHIT

Are you ready for this? Performance art is a contemporary art form which serves up social, political, and philosophical ideas through some action (the operative word) conceived and produced , or experienced, by the artist on

PERFORMANCE ART IS TEMPORAL, WHEN THE PERFORMANCE IS OVER. THE ART HAS DISAPPEARED. IT EXISTS ONLY IN THE MEMORIES OF THE ARTIST AND THE AUDIENCE." one hand; and by any audience present, with or without their consent, on the other. Got it?

HIGH PERFORMANCE documents this action, which is by nature often utterly bizarre, and - to the middleclass mind - totally uncategorizable. I mean, where exactly can you shelve shit like this?

In the words of the HIGH PERFOR- MANCE editor: "Performance art is temporal. When the performance is over, the art has disappeared. It exists only in the memories of the artist and the audience ." (Just like Oklahoma!) "Performance pieces do not hang in galleries and museums where the public can examine and savor them. Performance pieces thrive on hearsay, rumor, and, most often, opinion and misconception.

Some artists thrive on this throwaway attitude toward outrageously breaking cultural taboos.

SHOOT THE PIANO PLAYER

Most familiar to Americans is Venice, California's Chris Burden. To earn his MFA, Chris spent a cramped weekend locked inside a 50c locker in the LA bus station. (That's performance art.) Chris has had himself shot in the arm for a museum audience. Just a flesh wound. He has been bolted to the floor of a gallery, neck and wrists and ankles, next to an exposed electrical cord. Hearby, a bucket of water stood available for any playful member of the art establishment who wished to end the movement.

Chris has also had himself crucified, with nails through the hands, to the top of a running Volkswagen. He has crawled nearly naked through glass on LA sidewalks and then bought time during the 11 o'clock news to show the videotape of his bloody crawl. He is, perhaps, an authentic saint in the true Christian lineage of fleshly mortification.

WHAT I DID FOR LOVE

Burden demonstrates that the flesh is just that: flesh. So have punk rockers

High Performer Bob Opel has been seen in the buff by more people than anyone in the whole wide world. Opel was the man who streaked the Academy Awards, live and transmitted by satellite around the globe. Here, Opel gives a High Performance for another High Performer, former L.A. police chief Ed Davis, who promptly made an arrest. Opel can be seen at Fey Way Gallery in, where else, San Francisco. Chief Davis has retired to Chatsworth, California.

RFORMANCE GH

Even the pathetic extremist Sid Vicious, stabbing his punkette girlfriend good old what was her name? - is a kind of performance artist. Those who live by the shiv, die by the shiv.

SERMONETTE

Art, despite the stained-glass school of twisting art into a service of morality, has nothing to do with morality. Art in its pure state is neither moral nor immoral. Art transcends morality. (Try and sell that to the middleclass!) Art is, by essence , simply amoral. It has nothing to do with morality as such. This frees art into universality. Art stays open-endedly the same in essence, while morality itself is relative, changing from age to age, culture to culture, and class to class. The richness of Art as a concept, despite the improver-ishment of would-be artists who try to milk it for all it's worth, surprisingly, always maintains.

WHAT DID YOU DO AT THE BATHS, DADDY?

So what does all this artsy-fartsiness

WHAT YOU DO AFTER MIDNIGHT MAY MERIT YOU A NATIONAL ENDOWMENT have to do with you as a gay creature of the night? Chances are you are already a performance artist. You probably create performance art regularly if you are the average DRUMMER reader.

Let's back into it. How often have you been a part of a "scene" at the baths, or the Catacombs, while others watched? Have you ever taken your slave, or been taken the way San Francisco's ARENA BAR takes slaves to auction, in order to create a scene for interested voyeurs? The possibilities, like the scenes, are endless .

Excluding "abnormal" normal passion , much of any leatherman's behavior after sundown is, in fact, performance art.

To carry your mighty act a step further and to reflect on what it "means" could well get you into the pages of HIGH PERFÖRMANCE.

Joyfully, what your behavior "means" is fairly much up to you and your mutual partner. After all, you're the artist. No sanction is required other than that, before the act, you intend to make a statement - no matter how incomprehensible to others - through your performance .

COVERED ALL OVER WITH SWEET VIOLENCE

Getting tattooed is definitely per-

DRUMMER 21

formance art. Fisting, bondage, sculpture, scat, and watersports certainly qualify as legitimately as do boxing, wrestling, and assorted street-style exhibitionism. Performance art is truly a democratic form. A street-mugging can be performance art. Just as in San Francisco, an artist and his wife slapped each other repeatedly before an appreciative audience. How is this different from, or the same as, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? In Río, an artist asked the audience to link arms with him in a darkened room. Then, he stuck his finger in a light socket.

RUMBLE AT MOMA

The most self-indulgently violent of all was the creation of a New York (where else?) artist who persuaded two street gangs to hold a rumble at the Museum of Modern Art. Without warning, the gangs turned on the audience and beat and robbed them.

"What started out as a minor piece developed into a major work, an experience that forever altered the consciousness of

No shit!

Most performance art, however, is not so unpredictable. It rarely delivers such a tasty message / massage to art patrons who love to be rolled by glib artists on the make,

Although not all performance art is violent, violence has caught rather naturally the imagination of many international artists. Commenting on the violent nature of life, from the shock of birth to the possible pain of death, one artist said: "Who can fail to see the art in a blackened eye or a bleeding nose. If an artist ignores violence, he ignores life."

If you've ever had a black eye, you may well understand him. A "shiner" can be so beautiful that it becomes masturbatory . And how about the beauty in a pierced tit, or a welted ass, or a good healthy bruise? The achieving of these experienced body states, and the intention to experience them, fits neatly into this artistic movement,

ORGIES MYSTERY THEATER

HIGH PERFORMANCE (Vol. 1, No. seems of special interest to DRUM-MER readers, due to its interview and companion pieces on Hermann Nitsch,

ALTHOUGH NOT ALL PERFORM-ANCE ART IS VIOLENT, VIOLENCE HAS CAUGHT RATHER NATURALLY THE IMAGINATION OF MANY IN-TERNATIONAL ARTISTS.

Viennese director of the Orgies Myster-ies Theatre. Nitsch, of the sixties' artistic school known as "Wiener Aktionismus," is actively pursuing performance art, This school of artists became well-known for use of the body as a sculptural medium, especially for their attention to taboo, sado-masochism, hedonism, pain, and death. That tradition is articulated by Nitsch: "… that feverish, erotic sweetness, where the extreme will of expression rises to erotic cruelty but is always mastered esthetically, combined with the

Says Nitsch: "For me it's important to come out of the laws of our society. We live very lukewarm, very lukewarm. Most of the people don't exist, really. They are living in a dream. Everything is okay, and nothing is really dangerous, but nothing is really great, and they're not happy and they're not unhappy. I learned with my work that we bring to them real existence. Some things are painful, and some things shall make them very, very happy. I enjoy a very intensive life, and this I want to create with my work. There's cruelty and death also about it. Many people are afraid to live and afraid for death. When you live very intensively, society comes out against it. It is always a little bit dangerous to be very strong.

"… it's not necessary to be agressive any more in the normal ways; it's not necessary to make war. It's better to do such things in the theatre than in reality. come out of our subconsciousness and that we bring it into our consciousness during the performance, because I'm using art and I'm using form; and form brings our repressed things into our consciousness . Let me explain it better: we all have a lot of power, a lot of energies, and our society does not allow us to bring out all our energies. The energies become depressed; human society likes cruelty.

NITSCH NEVER DOES ANYTHING NICE 'N' EASY

Nitsch starts out strong: people have to pour blood on a white tablecloth; then it becomes stronger and strongest. His recent Los Angeles performance, ac-companied by a cacaphonic brass orchestra , included twenty actions whose elements were the pouring of blood onto animal intestines and carcasses as well as onto human genitals and mouths; manipulation of entrails by stuffing them into and pulling them out of carcasses; crucifixion of nude males next to crucified carcasses; and the playing of musical instruments into animal carcasses to catch how their meat echos.

The blood was intentionally rancid; the intestines stank; the music hurt the ears. The entrails were always stuffed back into the carcass with a nude male underneath - entrails, blood, and mucus falling on him. In the final action, two people held up a third who viciously stomped the entrails out of a carcass and onto the floor, whereupon they were replaced and the furious stomping

ART AIN'T MIDDLE CLASS

Nitsch plans a version to run six days and nights, probably in Austria, and hopefully with human cadavers. It will contain: trenches filled with blood and guts; tanks lobbing shells at slaughtered, crucified cows; consumption of alcohol for a mass intoxication of the audience; recorded speeches by Hitler; hacking of carcasses; wallowing in entrails on blood-soiled beds; and lots of noise. The feature bit is the crucifixion and disembowelling of a corpse while a chorus watches and sings on the sidelines.

DON'T ASK

Sorry, but I can't get you tickets. But you can keep up on the latest in performance art by reading HIGH PER- FORMANCE. It is quarterly, and costs $2.00 / copy, or $8.00 for a year's sub- scription. Individual copies can be ordered for $2.50 / each from the publisher: Linda Burnham, 240 S. Broadway, 5th Floor, Los Angeles, CA 90012. Tell Linda I said, "Hello" and then duck for cover!

S&M GYM

Yeah, only two days to the Mr. Bay Area Contest and I had to win the title of Mr. Bay Area or Killer would kick me out into the streets and yet here I was letting Rip Powell suck at my manhood, I knew I had to cut out the shit … that I had to concentrate exclusively on the back breaking job of getting my body in tip top shape. And in my heart I knew that no matter how hard I worked out in the next few days my physique was not going to be better developed than Thunder Cole's body. Hell, Thunder's biceps were at least two inches bigger than mine and even his chest was larger. And yet I knew I had to win the contest … yeah … I had to win the bodybuilding contest than the body itself? Weren't there psychological and political variables above and beyond the flesh? What about the judges? Didn't everyone see beauty and power through their own prism of subjectivity, refracting the light of knowledge to their specific end results? Just a few months before I'd seen the documentary PUMPING IRON and I couldn't erase the picture of Lou Ferrigno (The Incredible Hulk) screaming "A mold! Arnold! Arnold!" as he pressed a huge weight over his head in a frenzy of frustration, trying desperately to demolish the myth of Arnold Swarzenegger as the greatest champion of all time … as invincible … and yet the holiness in Ferrigno's voice proving that he felt Swarzen-egger was indeed the super champion of all time, even greater than Steve Reeves or John Grimek.

I pressed Rip Powell's head forward, holding my dick all the way down his throat as I shot my load. It was then I decided what to do. Yes, I must visit Thunder Cole and see if I could continue to dominate him. After all, I'd had one sexual encounter with him and who knows what would have happened if Killer hadn't broken up the scene. Didn't I get my arm up Thunder's ass … all the way to the elbow and hadn't he loved every second of it? Yeah, a visit to the Rick Fanni

Gym and Thunder Cole. grinned down at Rip who was licking my balls and then I grabbed my blue jeans. Since Killer was in Sacramento looking over some Nautulus equipment I put Rip in charge of the gym and grabbed a cab for the Rick Fanni Gym.

The second I walked into the old fashioned weightlifter's gym I knew Thunder Cole was working out. I could feel the electricity in the air. There was a crowd of old time bodybuilders avidly watching his workout. He was doing a squat with 600 pounds and the sweat was pouring off his body. There was no doubt about it, Thunder had champion written all over him. As he slammed the weight into the brackets there was a half smile on his tanned face … perfect teeth, extra white. Even his light brown hair seemed to have an extra gloss to it and he was even bigger than the last time I'd seen him. His biceps looked like they were close to twenty-one inches and his gargantuan chest tapered to an incredible thirty-one inch waist. This on a man who weighed at least 240 pounds at six feet. Yeah, Thunder Cole had it all.

As I stared at his magnificent body I realized I didn't have much of a chance of winning the Mr. Bay Area Contest, At that moment Thunder saw me. "George!" he exclaimed. "Good to see you … you look great." "Not as grea

For the next forty-five minutes I watched his magnificent body in action as he worked on his legs. A few minutes later his arm was around my shoulder as we left the gym. "Hey, where's your buddy — you know — the ball player?"

"Rip Powell?"

"Yeah, the golden boy of baseball."

"He's watchin' the gym. Killer is away in Sacramento!" Now Thunder's arm was around my waist. "Hey, you wanna go to my place for awhile? I'm horny as hell for your dick!" "Yeah, okay." And yet I was puzzled. Was this some kind "Yeah okay." And yet I was puzzled. Was the some kind

Bay Area Contest or was he really hot for my dick? He only lived a short distance from the Rick Fanni Gym but it seemed like he stopped at ten phone booths before he ushered me into his basement apartment near Golden Gate Park. "Hey, I'll fix us a protein drink," he grinned as he went into the kitchen, pulling me in with him. "I'll never forget that day at Killer's gym!" Eagerly he reached out and unb my fly. "I want some more of that cock.

It was as simple as that. He was hot for my dick. All my suspicions went down the tube. A few minutes later I was lying on a bean bag drinking the protein drink that Thunder had fixed while he took off my shoes, my socks and then asked me to lift my ass so he could pull off my levi's. I leaned back, closing my eyes as Thunder's tongue started on the soles of my feet, worked between my toes and slowly slithered up my calves. It felt great … having such a good looking dude as my sex slave. A second later he had both my balls in his hot mouth, "Lick the head of my dick," I commanded as I finished the protein drink, "Right around the

"Anything you say, George!" After awhile I grabbed Thunder by the ears and let him have my fat dick all the way to the hilt. Then I wrapped my legs around his neck and let him choke on it for about thirty legs around his neck and let him choke on it for about thirty seconds while I picked up a copy of DRUMMER and checked out the hot action. When I let him come up for air he began to talk a blue streak. "You're wonderful . .

George. I know if you show up you will win the title. I know that and …

I began to get the picture … Thunder Cole was fading in and out like a bad TV station, My arms felt strange. Somehow I felt numb… weird… my legs… I tried to move them … no dice. And I could hardly keep my eyes open. And then I knew … it hit me in the guts … the realization that Thunder Cole had poisoned me. He was scared to death that I'd win the Mr. Bay Área Contest. Yeah, the son of a bitch was an authentic looney … a crazy. "Oh, shit," I groaned. "You didn't … you …?

"You ain't gonna die, Georgie … at least not yet!" He laughed crazily. "You're just gonna be a little sleepy … a tittle powerless for awhile so I can do with you what I want." He stood up, towering over me. "Look, you up . . maybe handcuff you but it won't be necessary. I mean . . let's see … you're going to be my captive for the next two days until right after the Mr. Bay Area Contest, so you might as well enjoy your stay here! right. Hell, I had to fight like blazes not to fall asleep as the good looking son of a bitch undressed. It looked to me like he was doing it in slow motion. Even half asleep I had to admit he had a dynamite body and a gorgeous ass. As he bent over to pull off his Adidas tennis shoes I wanted to shove my arm up his butt and when he turned around I wanted to shove my dick into his sensual Robert Redford mouth. "Ah … suck … ah … me … my … co … ck!" I finally managed to say

He slapped me hard across the face. "Shut the fuck up, you cruddy asshole!" he screamed. "You … you … are … you got … a … a pussy for a mouth."

His huge fist smashed against my mouth and I was tasting my own blood. I tried to smile. "I could gag you but I got something better for you." He snapped his fingers and as if by magic a huge Japanese man appeared . He stood motionless, dressed in the pajama like pants of the karate expert, his arms folded across his massive chest. His bald head gleamed in the sunlight coming in from the win-

After awhile I grabbed Thunder by the ears and let him have my fat dick all the way to the hilt. Then I wrapped my legs around his neck and let him choke on it for about thirty seconds while I picked up a copy of DRUMMER and checked out the hot action. dow. His thick neck fleshed out into very wide muscular shoulders which V'd down to his superbly small waist, But most of all was the authority, the calm arrogance of the karate black belt. "I'd like you to meet Sansui," Thunder was grinning. "He'll be watching over you for the next couple of days … until after the contest."

Thunder snapped his fingers and the motionless Japanese came to instant life. For a moment I wondered if Thunder was going to hold a two by four and the Japanese man was going to break it in half but that wasn't what happened. I watched as the Japanese warrior deliberately pulled at the string holding his karate pajamas. They fell silently around his feet and all the myths fell with them … all the stories I'd heard about the Japanese and what small peckers they are supposed to have. The lower part of the warrior's body was magnificent. His skin wasn't really yellow. I wonder if any Japanese person's skin is yellow . . isn't that a kind of Caucasian prejudice . . or let us even call it a cliche. color with touches of the sun lightening it … a beautiful, life giving color. And … the lack of hair on his lower body. I know so many weightlifters who shave their legs to show off the musculature but the samurai obviously didn't shave his thick muscular legs. They were magnificent. Also, there was just a touch of public hair around his fat eight inch dick that gave it an extra air of excitement. His saffron colored balls were hairless. A moment later his muscular arms moved and he was holding his crotch … I watched as his prick began to harden. "Hey, man," I somehow regained my tongue. "I'd point that dick at Thunder. Well, we used to call him FUCK-FACE COLE!"

Maybe I should've kept my mouth shut. I dunno. Thunder hit me on the button with a left jab and a right cross and this time the blood gushed out of my mouth, through my fingers and onto the bean bag. Thunder snapped his fingers again and the next moment the dizziness grabbed at me as the Japanese dick was rammed down my throat. The son of a bitch was like some kind of a brutal rabbit. He fucked my face for about thirty seconds and the next thing I knew I was swallowing Oriental cum and my own blood. As I lost consciousness I could hear Thunder Cole laughing manically. I was with a crazy dude … no doubt about and yet, as I fell into the blackness, I couldn't help thinking of the Japanese gladiator and the fun we might have had under different cir- cumstances. He was some humpy dude!

I don't know if I slept for five minutes or two hours but when I woke up I could tell it was late afternoon by the long shadows that crept in from the window. Hopefully it was the same day. I tried to get up but my hands were handcuffed behind my back and the son of a bitch had me in leg irons. My head felt like a lead balloon. I knew for sure that I'd told Rip Powell that I was going to visit Thunder Cole at the Rick Fanni Gym. Maybe he'd have enough sense two together. I knew it was my only chance. I was positive when I saw Thunder Cole come in from the kitchen. The expression on his face. There was no doubt about it. Thunder was wacky-woo, a prime candidate for the rubber room. But he wasn't alone. Along with my Japanese jailer was a giant, Christ, he was so tall he had to bend his head to get through the doorway. He was as tall as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the center of the Los Angeles Lakers but there was one difference. At seven feet three inches he weighed at least seventy-five pounds more than Abdul-Jabber and all of it was solid muscle. Next to the ebony giant Thunder Cole looked like a midget. "What do you thin,, Taniman?" Thunder asked.

"I look … right now!" He was dressed in slacks and a t- shirt but I could see the power of his body underneath the loose clothes. "Ah … he is awake!" Taniman smiled with giant teeth. With one foot he turned me over and I fell off the bean bag on my stomach. "Ah, yes… he's got a beautiful ass. It will be just right for Taniman… just right!"

"You don't mind if I stay and watch, do you?" asked.

"You're footing the bill, Thunder."

"You're footing the bill, Inunder.

"Also my samurai will be here at all times to guard the prisoner," Thunder said.

"I don't know. He looks like he has a pretty tight ass."

"I'll gag him if he starts screaming," Thunder his sport shirt. His skin was cafe au lait and a deep amber. It glistened in the late afternoon light. It was almost as if he were covered with oil. He was a few feet away from me. His huge legs were spread wide. It was almost as if I were looking at some eternal tree that would live forever. His feet were huge. I'm sure he had to have his shoes made special. He kicked them off, slipped out of his pants and a moment later the jockey shorts fell to the floor.

How do you describe a shock like that? To actually see a dick that big and thick? My God, it flopped with a life of its own … banging aginst his thigh like a glistening black whale. Even now … after the incredible experience … it is difficult to describe the Lochness Monster. How thick was it … actually? How long was it? I knew that Killer with his eleven inches of uncut dick was like a pimple in comparison. And, the black giant's dick wasn't even hard. What else can I say?

But the truly amazing aspect of the giant was that he was a man of symetrical proportions … from his shoulders (that seemed a block wide) to his flat stomach that was cut like a washboard. Just the mere thought of taking his piece of meat up my ass was an absurdity. I knew he'd split me wide open and I'd end up in the hospital. And yet … and yet … there was a part of me that wanted that outsized prick up my ass. Even if it would kill me,

"We don't need these," Taniman spoke in a gentle voice that surprised me. Quckly he got the keys from Thunder and took the handcuffs off my hands and the leg irons from around my legs. His hot hands touched my body. "The y man is cold. Get him some whiskey. Warm his belly!"

Thunder got a bottle of whiskey and Taniman grabbed it, holding it to my mouth. I don't know how much I drank but suddenly I could feel the heat in the pit of my stomach. "Feel better, young man?" Taniman asked. There was a big smile on his face.

I just stared hard at him, not trusting myself to answer. Hell, he was part of the conspiracy. Had they not kidnapped me? Weren't they going to hold me captive until after the Mr. Bay Area Contest? Taniman grabbed my hand and wrapped it around his still flaccid dick. Then there was the acrid smell of grass and the joint was shoved in my mouth. A second later another shot of whiskey and I was beginning to get a buzz … beginning to feel good despite myself … despite my predicament . Surprisingly, there was something gentle, almost tender about the giant. I couldn't help wondering how much he weighed. I knew he had to weigh over 300 pounds. Now he pushed my hand down to his right ball. The sloe-colored orb filled the palm of my hand.

As my eyes focused on his huge genitalia Thunder shoved a popper up my nose and despite my terror I felt a strange rush of passion deep in my guts. Another slug of whiskey and my head being pushed downward … downward to the enormous ebony cockhead that glistened out of the jetted foreskin . Almost in self defense I stuck out my tongue, flicking it sain. Almost in self defense is stack out my longue, incking it against his huge pisshole. Shit, it was almost as big as some of the assholes I've licked. But the velvet black head . . incredible . . so smooth . so deeply, amyl nitrite up my nose and I was crazy enough to try anything . What the hell? Why not? I giggled and then I started to talk but somehow the words didn't come out. I guess I was so fucked up I couldn't talk. My mouth opened and some kind of mumbo jumbo came out. "I…ah…wagawood…boo…

The giant hovered over me with a wide grin on his face. His now hard prick bounced against his belly button as he approached me, "Ah … Georgie … you got spunk … you got fight … you're a tough one. Yes … you're gonna be the best piece of ass that Taniman ever had in his life." blah!"

Thunder giggled crazily. "Is that right? That's funny what Georgie just said. Don't you think?" He giggled so hard I thought he'd never stop. All the time he was playing with himself. "I think Georgie is ready!"

"Get me some cocoa butter!" Taniman ordered.

"Shit," the giggle left Thunder's face. "He's got a fuckin' asshole as wide as the Grand Cznyon. He don't need no grease!'

Taniman's eyes became slits of anger. "Cocoa butter!" Thunder didn't argue. A moment later he handed a tube of it to Taniman.

Taniman's voice was quiet but full of steel. He was looking Thunder Cole right in the eye. "You get my cock hard," he said.

I could feel my heart pounding wildly. I had one of Tani-man's balls cupped in the palm of my hand as he grabbed Thunder by the ears and shoved his half hard monster dick down his throat. I leaned forward, trying to swallow the big black orb but it was so big I couldn't get it into my mouth. Taniman pushed me away and I watched Thunder suck the giant's dick and I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

It was like watching the Lochness Monster come out of the sea. The damned thing just kept getting bigger and bigger. Not just long but thick with a head on it that was a real jaw breaker. No matter how hard Thunder tried he couldn't get the monster head of Taniman's dick in his eager mouth. He just kept slurping away at it. Finally Taniman pushed Thun- der away.

Taniman was grinning at me. Taniman turned his glistening athlete's body toward me. One hand pressed a fresh bottle of whiskey to my mouth, the other hand moved to my ass with the cocoa butter. His voice was gentle, almost a whisper. "You are about to have the experience of your life with Taniman. If you fight it it will be worse than the Spanish Inquisition. Relax and enjoy it and Taniman will take you on a trip to the stars … to heaven. We will go there together and stay there for a very long time."

His huge index finger was probing my asshole. My eyes were riveted to the incredible monster between his legs and I watched in a kind of weird fascination as his giant prick responded to the work of his other hand … digging into my bunghole. He got three fingers inside me but they were so big that I squirmed in pain even though I was zonked out of my head on the whiskey, grass and poppers.

"Now … Georgie … now is the exact time … yes." His voice was a sensual whisper and his huge tongue flicked wetly against my ear as he picked me up as if I were a feather and turned me around, facing him. What in hell was he doing? My God, he wanted me to sit on it, facing him … he wanted me to take the Lockness monster all the way. I knew this was it … this was the end. Taniman would split me wide open. There would be two George Misa's in the Mr. Bay Area Con- test. "You've got to be kidding. I can't take that whale up my ass!" Those were the words I tried to say but something else came out, something like, "You agh blug kidahmeyach … my gourd. "'Don't talk, baby, don't talk. Taniman will fill you up with love and more love!" He smiled, showing beautiful white teeth. I had to admit he was a handsome mother fucker. "Now I screw my little boy. It is time!" But first he gave me a final slug of whiskey. As he lifted me into position I saw the throbbing piece of meat between his legs and I knew there was no possible way I could take it up my ass. It was impossible. It was … "AGH … YAH … MIGOD … SHIT … FUCK!"

The monster head disappeared for a second and then reappeared . Thunder Cole was there, hovering over the scene, sadistic grin on his face. I could see that he was trying to kill

DRUMMER 26 two birds with one stone. Namely me and he wanted to get off watching. There was no doubt that Thunder Cole was a voyeur. He was whacking away at his dong as he watched. The Japanese warrior stood near the doorway, impassive, neutral to what was coming down.

Again I felt the pressure of the gigantic head of Taniman's prick pressing inexorably against my bunghole. At first it wasn't too bad … that pain, that is … and I thought that maybe I was drunk enough so I'd be able to take his GIGAN-

TICUS without a lot of trouble. His voice was convincing. "Remember … just relax … relax!"

He gave it a shove and that was it. He might as well have shoved a red hot poker up my ass. What does one do when something like that happens? Well, a second later I was flying through the air and miraculously I somehow landed on my feet on the other side of the room. The searing pain had sobered me up. My head was as clear as a bell and I jerked my head backwards as Thunder Cole tried to cold cock me with an uppercut to the jaw. The next moment he was lying on the floor out cold after I hit him in the stomach with a right jab. "You son of a bitch!" I screamed.

Then I felt the pain grab at my elbow and I was paralyzed. It was the Japanese warrior. "Let him go!" Taniman said. I was free and again the samurai was guarding the doorway.

The giant hovered over me with a wide grin on his face. His now hard prick bounced against his belly button as he ap- proached me. "Ah … Georgie … you got spunk … you got fight … you're a tough one. Yes … you're gonna be the best piece of ass that Taniman ever

The son of a bitch was so tall I couldn't do any damage. I couldn't reach his chin with my fists … they bounced help-lessly off his gigantic chest. When I tired to kick him in the balls my knee barely touched his thigh. I was getting ready to try and bite off one of his balls when he picked me up and the next thing I knew the big mother fucker was kissing me. If I'd had a gun I'd have shot him in the head, "You're slobbering all over me!" I screamed,

For a second I thought I saw a shadow cross his face. Had I hurt his feelings? "You don't like Taniman?" he asked, as he bent me over the couch.

I didn't have a chance to answer. The red hot poker was in my ass but now it was way up inside … in my guts … my belly … driving me crazy with pain. The horror of it .. too much for me to handle .. somehow .. someway I went into another dimension … I actually left my body it … hovering near the ceiling … watching what was going on and yet helpless to do anything about it. The pain was beyond human comprehension as I watched Taniman's baseball bat of a dick disappear into the ass of the young man lying on the couch … the young man that was me. I was fighting like hell but that only seemed to excite him more. And the son of a bitch couldn't stop talking,

"Tight ass … tight … take biggest dick in the world … open up . . sexy buns … for the great dick … the biggest, the best dick in the world … it make you have … it joy … it take you to paradise … let Taniman fuck Georgie … ooooooooooh … best fuck in the world …" I could hear my own voice, "You … you're killing me … you're tearing me apart … " I was sure I would go crazy with the tearing, ripping pain and then I was no longer floating near the ceiling but I was lying over the side of the couch with this black man ramming the fuckin' Empire State Building up my ass. But then I realized it was no use … no use resisting. I might as well let him kill me with the huge spear up my ass.

I'm not sure when the change happened. Maybe it was right after Thunder Cole began to lick my chest … maybe it was right after he began to gently bite my nipples. It was then I realized that Taniman had pulled his whooper out of my tortured bunghole. Instead his giant tongue was licking my ass lapping at it like a dog … trying to clean out the pain. Just

the feeling of his soothing tongue began to lull me and I could feel my dick getting hard and Thunder had it in his mouth. It felt wonderful … Taniman's tongue up my ass and Thunder sucking my cock … I began to feel the excitement in my toes … moving up to my kneecaps. Ah … Taniman's tongue … up my ass … and it was about an hour later when I looked down and it was no longer his tongue … the monster head of Taniman's dick was up my ass and the orgasm was building inside of me … it was in my hamstring muscles … my thighs… moving up to my guts. "Wonderful". wonderful!" Taniman was now holding me\nin his arms and Thunder's tongue had replaced his up my ass-hole . "How do you feel?" he kissed me gently. I was on the verge of shooti

His thick tongue finally came out of my mouth. "Taniman make love to you all night."

Now he was gently kissing my neck and with Thunder Cole's tongue deep in my ass I was on the verge of shooting my heavy load. I closed my eyes and relaxed completely as I felt Taminam push Thunder away … as Taniman gently put my legs over his shoulders. I knew that I could at least take the head of his dick without it feeling like a red hot poker up my ass

Then all hell broke loose. The searing pain tore at my guts … ripping them apart … crushing my internal organs. From some strange, far off space I heard a blood curdling scream of agony and then the blackness slammed at my eyeballs, grabbing my head like a giant vice, tightening and tightening until my brains turned to mush, coming out of my ears and my nose and my mouth. And that was as much as I could stand. AGGGGHHHHAM … HELP ME!

I was crushed by the blackness.

. . barely a distant kind of buzz … slithering into my squish / … [×3+] mush of my brain somehow changing its consistency and finally heavily lidded eyes barely opening. The room … tilted and upside down … like a three dimensional jigsaw puzzle … and upside down. The a direct difficulties and a legical … it was changing . moving . trying to make it logical . . it was almost as if I had to be born again and taught to figure out what was going on. Yeah, the guy s off and the Japanese warrior, arms folded, standing at the was lying on my back … on the couch . . my legs were up in the air . . and … and … the unbelievable sight . . was it real? I couldn’t believe it even when the jigsaw fell into place and I was back in reality . … / squish [×3+]

At that moment there was a rush of cold air as the Loch-ness Monster came out of my gorged asshole. I felt like I'd lost a leg or something but it didn't last long. Taniman picked me up, flipped me around so I was facing him and then sat me down on his monster cock. It was incredible. I didn't feel any pain as the Lochness Monster wedged itself deep into my guts. But now the heaven … where was it … in my guts … in my toes … buzzing through my head … yes … a feeling I'd never felt before … a feeling beyond ecstasy . . ineffable … indescribable … blowing the top of my head off …

"YAGHHHABABMA SHII GUD HEAVEN YAG." I think it was me screaming and I was joined by Taniman. "GEORGIE FLUG MY GOD M'M COMING WE TOGETHER FLUG AH MY GOD M'M COMING WE TOGETHER FLUG AH MY YAGAMA AHHHHH SH M MY GOD WE WE WE W

SPLASHING ALL OVER ME AND HIM AND EVERY-

WHERE AND BEHIND US THUNDER COLE WITH HIS HAND AROUND HIS DICK AND THE CUM ALL OVER HIS FINGERS.

The pain didn't hit me until twenty minutes later when I had to go to the john. I don't know if he'd done anything to my internal organs but I could hardly walk to the john. Maybe it was because I looked so helpless … I don't know … but Thunder let me go to the bathroom without my arms handcuffed behind me. Maybe he took them off because I told him I had to take a shit and he didn't feel like wiping my ass. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the Japanese warrior, arms folded, face impassive, guarding the doorway. I had to admit he was sexy as hell. I almost felt like giving him a quick blow job. I couldn't help wondering if his arms would still be folded across his chest when I finished sucking his stubby dick.

I pushed all thoughts of sex out of my head as I closed the door of the john. I moved to the narrow window and looked out. We were on the second floor. It was a straight drop of about twenty feet. I tried to figure it out. If I hung on the ledge that would cut it down to fourteen feet, Still I might break a leg and that would disqualify me for the Mr. Bay

Area Contest.

Craming my neck forward I looked to the side of the wooden building. It was then I saw the drainpipe. Hmmmm. If I stood on the window sill I might just be able to reach it and slide down it. I knew it was worth a try but what in hell was I going to wear? I was stark naked. I quickly glanced around the bathroom.

I knew I had to hurry or Thunder would get suspicious. I grabbed the one small towel and wrapped it around my middle . The window opened easily and a moment later I was standing precariously on the edge. Taking a deep breath I leaned forward and grabbed for the green drainpipe, praying that it wouldn't disentegrate in my hands. It held firm but my towel didn't. It somehow slipped from around my middle and ended up on the window ledge. As I clambered down the drainpipe I was bare assed naked! A second later my bare feet touched the cold pavement and I was off and running.

Luckily, the apartment was across from Golden Gate Park. As I ran across the street headlights exposed my nakedness . The car skidded and almost crashed. I guess they weren't accustomed to seeing naked body builders running across the street. A moment later I was breathing easier as I ran down the path that was lined with trees and the early San Francisco evening hid my nakedness,

I had to admit it was fun running through the park. I thought I'd freeze but after running a couple of miles I felt a good sweat on my body. I heaved a sigh of relief when the fog descended on the magic city. Finally, at last I was across the street from the Killer McKenna Gym and I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw a light in the lobby.

I slammed my knucles hard against the glass door and I thought Rip Powell was going to have a heart attack when he saw me standing on the street stark naked. After he closed his mouth he opened the door and I was home free. And luckily

Killer was still away in Sacramento, "You look terrific!" he grinned.

Affectionately I punched him on the arm. "Look, where are all Killer's slaves?"

"Some are sleeping in Killer's closet and the rest in the locker room, Why?

"I'm gonna want them later."

"Sure thing, Georgie. I'll take care of it."

"And I don't want anyone in the gym. I'm going to work out for the next four hours. You got that, Rip?" "Sure thing, Georgie!" The golden boy of baseball started to tuck in the golden ball that fell out of his blue bikini but it wouldn't stay. "You wouldn't want a quick blow job before you start, would you?"

"I'd love it, Rip, but I don't have the time. Maybe we can fix the late." fit it in later.

It felt good … having the gym all to myself. Yeah, this was it. I knew now that there was no way that Thunder Cole was going to win the Mr. Bay Area Contest … one way or another I was going to win it. I grabbed the barbell and threw on two hundred and fifty pounds. I was full of energy as I began my workout … the heaviest workout of my life and yes … the pain in my ass was gone.

THE BATTERED BY JACK FRITSCHER

FROM THE PRIVATE COLLECTION OF L.A. CAVELO.

NOBODY FUCKS LEX BARKER ANYMORE.

In the good ol' usta-be's of Saturday matinee marquees, we mostly stuck our peckers - the whole front row of us - through holes we punched in the greasy bottoms of our buttercorn boxes, Just puttin' our prepube hands in on our own on tits!"

We'd all say, "Ugh!"

But the hardon wasn't Jane's tits. "Starring LEX BARKER" was what drilled the thrill through the bottom of the popcorn boxes. Just those simple headlines: "Starring LEX BARKER!"

Even today in film history books his movies still have no titles. And Lex has even less mention.

Look up all the Barrymores, a Ban-croft , a Bankhead, even a Theda Bara (whose name is an anagram for Arab Death), and go as far as the Richards Barthelmess and Basehart. Among these Hollywood B's, unsympatico film historians ignore the movies "Starring LEX BARKER!" Even his greatest, La Dolce Vita, is listed not as a LEX BARKER movie, but as a snobby Fellini film!

The nerve! After all that Lex suffered: stripped, bound, beaten, branded, spread-eagled , humiliated. If the Indians didn't get him, the Zulus did; and the camera turned away in a blush while we turned on with a rush.

LEX HAD PEX

When Lex was a cowboy, he wore soft chamois leathers. When Lex swung as Tarzan, he wore soft chamois loincloths. In deserts and jungles, Lex's cotton clothes always rotted off from sweat faster than Ursula Un-dress.

Lex, you see, had something no man else in the Fifties was really allowed to exploit: A BODY!

Meanwhile, audiences had been Gar-boed and Gabled, Harlowed and Novar- roed, Prestoned and Hestoned. We were C.B. DeBiblified at Bijou's surely temple-fied . We were Wayned and Payned and Taylormade. We were Peter Lorre-d and Victor Jorry-d. We were even Myrna Loy-d.

But Lex was sex.

He was Sigmund Freud on celluloid. So keep the obviously "Remembered Ones.

Keep your Bogart, Brando, Jimmy

Newman, Woodward, Steve Mc-Queen ,

Tracy, Hepburn, 3-D creatures,

Even Monroe's double features. They were too "normal," compared to Lex, tied to everything but the kitsch-en sink.

VIDEO-JERK

So I'm buying now my video cassettes "Starring LEX BARKER!"

I'll ruin my eyes and sallow my complexion. I'll grow hair on my palms, and twist my affection. I'll sit still closer to my video screen till seer merges with the seen. Larger than life, projected I'll go off with Lex in the pitcher show, tying and torturing with great affection loving Lex with rear projection. A reel marquee de Saturdaynite!

At least, he had the good taste to drop dead outside Bloomingdale's in New York

© 1979 Jack Fritscher

SWINGTIME (1954) with Fred and Ginger (right).

Zsa Zsa Garbor costarred in Lex's GIRL IN THE KREMLIN. Who played the title role?

ALABAMA

HANDSOME, FUNLOVING LEVI/ LEATHER Harley Rider, Taurus, 39, 5'10", 160, white, wishes to 39, 510", 160, white, wishes to share fantasies with masculine, dis- creet, clean, unselfish buddy to 50 Digs motorcycle riders, uniformed cycle cops, high boots, chaps, breeches, horses. Mustache / beard a turn-on. Seeking permanent friend-ships. No fems, fats, drugs. Box 451A

ALASKA

SM, 31, small, solid, well-proportioned, enjoys S&M experiences with other conscious men, kinky, rough and high, as well as sound man-to- man relationships. Open to nearly everything, Will correspond with frankness. Travel at times. Box 701C.

ARKANSAS

LITTLE ROCK SLAVES - Get on your knees and write to this domi- nant Master, 6'2", 185 lbs, 8'4" un- cut if you are white, masculine and not overweight. My interests are shaving your crotch smooth, pouring piss ing your crotch smooth, pouring piss down your slave throat, bondage, getting the discipline from you I demand, FF and letting you know who's boss. Am experienced, respectful of limits, imaginative. You should include your

CALIFORNIA

SAN FRANCISCO MEN Hunky w / m, 27, 150 lbs., 5'8", black hair, brown eyes. Gemini jock, black hair, brown eyes, Gemin Jock, gets into almost any scene with hot, bearded, husky men. No scat or blood. Turned on by Military, jocks, leather, tattoos, dirty talk, body-builders. Send photo & letter to J.C., 660 O'F cisco, CA 94109.

REPORT TO COMMANDANT US*ALL STOCKADE Aryan, 49, uncut, 6'2", 170 lbs. For submissions re: w / s, S&M, B&D, VA, humiliation, besting leaucasians only) under Military / SS / USMC discipance. This is serious and as real as fantay a

CRUEL MASTER DESIRED Cruel, sadistic w / m Master(s) with SS mentality / drives needed for heavy bondage, suspensions, stretching, bondage, suspensions, stretching, whipping, flogging colonics, torture. You set limits! Only mature, fully equipped need apply. Could you use me? Bay Area, NYC, European locations. Box 701E.

SAN FRANCISCO S 29, 5'8", Leo, 155 lbs, built and sadistic, into giving excruciating geni- tal pain to other bodybuilders, No marks, damage, just real pain. (415) 864-5566.

ORIENTAL MASTER San Francisco, S, 34, 5'9", 140. Oriental, 7" Hot looking in full leather, like dirty talk, giving tit work, but also well-educated, sane,\ninward. Wants goodlooking, masculine , white M in chaps for sex an

ORANGE COUNTY w / m, 37, masculine , goodlooking dog seeks collar, chains, and masculine, sensitive Mas- ter with good body, hung. Possible relationship. Details, photo, letter. Box 32, South Laguna, CA 92677.

HARD MASTER

Uncut and hung, hard to please, has a letter of requirements for your unworthy ass. A photo of this unyield- ing stud, hard as steel, comes with it. A buck gets it. Maybe more than you can handle. Box 667A.

LOS ANGELES. S. Aquarius. 22, 5'11", 150. White 6%". Knowledge-able. Tough, hot looking Levi / leather boss gets total service from submissive, wild-assed, hungry boot- lickers. If they work for it, they'll get his Levis and all the sweaty meat grease and piss in 'em. Put yourself in real good hands, Box 294V8.

LOS ANGELES, S, Libra, 40, 5'10", 155, white, 6", knowledgeable, attractive, imaginative Stud is good top man for obedient uninhibited partner . No heavy drugs, drunks, fems, fats. Loves sex! Box 133.

ORAL SLAVE Fremont, 38, 6'3", Black, 190 lbs., 7", uncut, gives total oral service, appreciates w / s, dirty talk, name, calling, humiliation, verbal abuse, twitter for White. calling, humiliation, verbal abuse, licking asshole. Looking for White, Latin or Asian into having a tall slave, should be 18-45, leather / levi. Must be masculine. Box 491F.

LOS ANGELES M. Virgo, 49, 5'10%", 145 lbs., white, 6", know- 49. ledgeable, imaginative and obedient. Box 182

LOS ANGELES, MS, Leo, 42, 6'1'', 165 lbs, white, 6'', novice, willing and eager to learn complete submission, to suffer or cause suffering within limits with reliable partner to 45. No mutiliation, physical handicapped, Bo

VENTURA. SM, 45, 6'3", 225, German. 7". Seeks well built, over 35, over 6 feet, levi or leather dominant or passive. Am versatile and willing to learn. Box 170.

WOODLAND HILLS, M, Pisces, 40, 5'9%", white, 165 lbs., 8", enjoys C&B action, catheters, enemas, serious sex by controlling Master, 3-ways ok. Box 132M.

LOS ANGELES, S, 45, 5'6", 135 lbs., solid, muscular, maculine stud, 7" cut. Looking for masculine, slender or muscular man, under 55. White, Not interested in fucking anything that I wouldn't walk down the street with. Box

AVALON, SM. Leo / Virgo cusp. 39, 5'11", 145, Latin, 7" uncut, An evil 5'11 imaginative mind dedicated exploring my personal limits for mind-blowing orgasms, which I wish to share in either role (prefer dominate). Must have boat. Seek MC riders for summer runs. No body odor, bad teeth or soft bellies. Box 318V.

FRESNO CA FRESNO, CA. W / M 38, Cancer, 5'10", 150 lbs. TAIL member 1891. Like mellow scenes, top or bottom, FFA, erotic enemas, exploring fantasies. No great hangups about age, race, etc. but am not "into" tennie-boppers, excessive d

HAYWARD, M. Capricorn, 39, 6'3", 190, 7", Black, wants to meet White, Latin or Asian masculine man, 18-45, for total oral services, body worship, humiliation, verbal abuse, ws, tit work. Face sitters preferred. Photo and frank letter will 7 get prompt reply. Box CAD201.

OROVILLE, M. Cancer, 32, 6', 180, white, 6'', knowledgeable. Needs leather Master for life. I love leather and need kinky scenes, mild S&M, B&D, am into w / s, scat fantasies, humiliation, I must serve my Master in leather and boots. I am considered goodlooking, masculine, and need training. I am open and loose for the right man-Master. Fantasies mixed with a little reality is where I am. Please, Master, I need you bad. Box 81E.

S.F. BOUND White master, 26, 5'11", muscular build into B&D, w / s, FF, more, Mov- ing to San Francisco area late fall from Arizona. Seeks masculine, well built young studs, top or bottom, for good hot times. Box AZF101,

SAN FRANCISCO, S / M. 41, 7". 5'10". Previous experience as an S, but leaning toward M role, Prefer a dominant who respects limits. Seek under 40, 5'10" and over, over 6" en- dowment, dressed in full leather. Box

FRANCISCO. Cancer, 36, 130. White, Bearded bottom SAN 5'10" for rim and / or scat Beard or mustache a must. No age or race restrictions. Horst (415) 282-8550, 10 pm to midnight. Other times answering machine. Write: Box 101SF.

WHITE MASTER, 23, 5'10", 150, 7" cut, seeks goodlooking, young, serious slave with desire to serve, learn and obey. I am a clever, energetic Master who knows how to use you effectively. Box 130Y.

HAYWARD, M. Capricorn, 39, 6'3", 190, 7". Black, Wants to meet white, Latin or Asian masculine man, 18-45, for total oral service, body worship, humiliation, verbal abuse, w / s, tit-work. Face sitters preferred. Photo and frank letter will get prompt_reply. Box 104UC.

S, 5'10", 150 lbs., 23, 7", cut, looking for white M to 29, goodlooking, submissive, cut, subserveant and masculine. Southern California area. Must be smooth, not hairy, not into playing games. Must follow orders. Box 130Y.

LOS ANGELES, SM, 40, 6', 190 lbs., 8" uncut, experienced Master or slave with cabin in the mountains for outdoors scenes. Have had excellent training in both roles, Am gentle but firm, respect limits. Not into exces- sive pain for force. Prefer the experienced . Box 318V2.

FULL LEATHER S leaning towards M role, shaved head, beard, dressed in full leather seeks total involvement with intel- ligent SM who can switch roles. Must respect limits, Box 136H.

L.A. FILTH Tough, hard, beer drinking, cigar smoking, foul mouthed dirt dude smoking, foul mouthed dirt dude with rank armpits, slimey asshole and a cruddy uncut cock wears greasy, rotten, stinking boots, socks, jocks, t-shirts, levis and leather. Digs spitting, pissing, shitting, pukeing, sweating and farting and gets off with chains, tires, concrete, mud, tools, rubbers and oil. Box 294V8.

HOLLYWOOD, S, Gemini, 55, 5'9", 155, white, 7", novice, will give hard spanking to buns with or without restraint. Like a stern father. I have good hands, paddles and other toys. 375B.

CIRCA GALLERY Walnut Grove Center 9026 Tampa Ave, Northridge, CA 91324 (213) 993-7774

OAKVIEW, SM, Capricorn, 44, 6'3", 225, white, 6%". Novice, virile and versatile, wishes to enjoy sex to the highest possible degree with muscular , mature partner, 30-50. No drugs, skinnies, Box 170.

SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA cigar SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA cigariferak, M, seeks gutter mouth top in V / A, Humiliation, degragation, w / s, exhibitionism, booze, whatever, (Read my story issue 22, pg. 11-12) Consider all kinks. Dig cigar, chains. pics, correspondence. Box 408D.

LOS ANGELES. S. Taurus, 45, 6'4", 210, white, 9", experienced seeks slaves for a week in the woods. Bike run. California. Box CAB202.

NORTH BAY AREA W / m, 52, 6'2", 185. If you are the same and love motorcycles, leather uniforms, horses and saddles, tall polished boots and britches, spurs and chrome, then lets ride off together. No freaks, please. Must be very straight appearing and discre- tion an absolute must. Photo please, either mounted or unmounted. Box 308A

LOS ANGELES. M, Aries, 38, 6', 145, 7', clean cut, well built, into kinky scenes, tit, cock and ball torture, temporary piercing, music, playroom; seeks virile, masculine S, big balled, older OK. Box LAP301.

MONTEREY AREA Well built, hairy father in 40's needs younger, smooth and thin fellow to be spanked and loved like a son. Box 375C.

OAKLAND. S. Libra. 40. 5'10". 175, white, 7". Knowledgeable, ex- perienced, discreet, masculine, good- looking dude, well equipped with toys seeks alim, submissive partner to 26. Should be clean shaven, clean cut. Box 052'

SAN DIEGO AREA SM, 39, 6'3", 190 lbs., 8" cut, has well equipped game room for scenes with Masters or slaves, from novice to well-experienced. Have toys and know how to use them. Should be over 25, clean, in leather or levis. Box 667F.

FORESKIN LOVER Libra, 35, 6'2", 165 lbs., 9" cut, white, goodlooking, seeks big uncut cocks with lots of foreskin, I dig sucking, playing, and worshipping what you've got. No age or race hangups. Enjoy amyl. Have fantasy about playing with huge animals. Write: RAW., Box 11772, Palo Alto, CA 94306.

RIVERSIDE AREA, 40, 6', 180 lbs., hard 7", soft belly, sexy face, short nails, wants slender bottoms, especially FF, under 45. Also dig watching exhibitionists do their thing. Box 10

LOS ANGELES, M. Pisces. 42, 6'2", 198 lbs., white, 7\%", looking for a man for love and other things in this area, Box 11,

ATTENTION SLAVES Dominant, goodlooking w / m body- builder, 29, seeks goodlooking, smooth-bodies, well-built slave, 18-28. Light S&M, B&D, spanking, Novice ok, Write now, slavel Photo to Mac, Box 162, San Pablo, CA 94806.

TRANSFERRED TO S.F. January, 1979. Oversexed M, 26, 5'10", 179. Oversexed M, 26, 5'10", 170 lbs, 6%" uncut, beard, white, goodlooking, sense of humor, together, easy going, seeks together S who will help me expand my varied interests in the S Phone and photo. Box 191.

JOCK STRAPS

Wrestling in oil, athletic gear, sweat turn you on? Hot, 28-year-old, Southern California dude wants to get together with you and show if off in a straining jock strap. Will ex- change ripe jocks and photos with all. Must really get off on locker room sex. Travel U.S., mostly New York, West Coast, Germany, Portugal. R.M. Box 1993, Newport Beach, CA 92663.

SAN FRANCISCO, 28, 5'11", 150 lbs., goodlooking, uncut 7", into uncomplicated one-night-stands. Seek similar, prefer uncut, 30-45, turn-on to Asians, Latins, who dig fucking, heavy oral sex, w / s. Can assume either role, depending on partner. No scat, drugs, pain. Box 171.

LAGUNA. S. Aquarius, 36, 6'4", ex-jock, 210 lbs., seeks generous, mature slave who appreciates a heavy-duty, experienced, discreet master. Your scene combined with mine to let you freek out, Advanced or beginners. Tough bu

OROVILLE. M. Cancer, 33, 6', 180, white, 6%", knowledgeable. Needs leather Master for life. I love leather and need kinky scenes, mild S&M, B&D, am into w / s, scat fantasies, humiliation. I must serve my Master in leather a in leather and boots, I am considered goodlooking, masculine, and need training, I am open and loose for the right man-Master. Fantasies mixed with a little reality is where I am. Please, Master, I need you bad. RO 21F. Box 81E.

FRAZIER PARK, M. Taurus. 40, 5'11", 155 lbs. white, 7½", novice, hot, handsome, masculine bottom seeks sensitive, masculine, hunky old hand heavy into ass play. Should have expertise with respect to limits. No fems, fats, pain for its own sake. Box 865.

NAKED SPANKINGS IN L.A. True novice M, 23, 5'9", 140 lbs., 6" cut, beard, wants the paddle, etc. from clean guys about same age. Make me squirm and serve, No FF, blood. Send details. Smith, Box 7306, Van Nuys, CA 91409.

MATURE, MASCULINE W / M, 47, 6'3", 225, virile, healthy, experienced, wants contact with men near my size. 30+ only. CB's, bikers, cowboys reply to: R.K., Box 905, Oakview, CA 93022.

MY SCENE OR YOURS S&M fantasies realized with attractive, muscular dude into levis, boots, leather, S&M, bondage, w / s. When a body needs a body to learn the how and why. Photo please. Box 115.

LONG BEACH AREA uncuts wanted by blonde / blue-eyed 26-year-old, 51, 510°, 7° uncut, hot w / m. Dig hot, sweaty man action, any race, used beer, raunchy cocks. Hot cuts under 30 lk. Box 4558, Torrance, CA 90510. Rick (213) 434

MONTEREY PENINSULA. Hunky 40s, ready to serve. You call the shots by writing: Box 4413, Carmel, CA 93921.

THE TOILET Join, Scat, W / S, John (415) 826-8072

CONNECTICUT

MYSTIC, S, Aries, 50s, 5'10", 175 lbs., white, 8", old hand. Experienced top man will train sexually uninhibited, honest partner to 50. No drugs, phonies, dullards, fats, fems. Box 329.

YOUNG BLONDE

Guy likes to get it in tight butt hole, If you are 8 inches or more and dig Fr., I am your guy. Photo if possible, gets mine. Box 701A.

W / M, 23, 125 lbs., needs Master who wants permanent slave and will use any method to train and get his way, Box 439C.

PUTNAM, MS. Libra, 29, 5'8", 135, White, inexperienced, Clean and experimental, seeking introduction to leathersex / bondage from sensible, discreet partner to 40. Box 101CT.

GREENWICH. S. Cancer. 45, 5'11". 160, White. 6". Heavy leather scene. Has fine leather toys, seeks macho partner who knows how to serve. No phonies, fats, fems. Box 051E.

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA

WASHINGTON, DC AREA, M. 38, 5'11", 170. White, 6", Handsome, masculine, muscular, lean. Run. Work-out, interested similar type S, 25-45, Box DCS101.

WASHINGTON, SM, Sagittarius, 33, 5'7", 130, White, 10", Knowledgeable, Very interested in a variety of sexual experiences and willing to try them with mature, uninhibited part- ner, 45 to 50 preferred. No fems, fats, long hair, body odor. Box 084D.

WASHINGTON slave, Sagittarius, 54, 56%". 168 lbs., white, 6". Relishes being subservient to decent, good-looking Master who is sincere and has a sense of humor. Prefer cut, under 36, no beard, red heads, hairy bodies. Box 227S.

FLORIDA

DADE COUNTY, FLORIDA DADE COUNTY, FLORIDA Clean, sexy, very attractive GW, masculine, 29, wents to explore bi-ness through young white couple(s) (group, Prefer F (18-28), M (21-38), firm body, together had, sutrac-tive , professional, discree

TOUGH HUNK MEN sought to get down and worship this goodlooking blonde / blue-eyed Nar- cissist, 39, 5'10", 160, muscles; into heavy piss games, muscle licking, mirrors, fantasy, enemas. Want studs only or masculine slaves. Miami area. Box 47.

MIAMI UNIFORM STUDS SM, Taurus, 25, 6', 165 lbs., white, 6", masculine, muscular stud seeks boot and uniform buddles into police and military scenes, Butch studs only with boot, uniform fetish need apply Real motorcycle cops and military men a plus. Discretion assured. Uniformed photo and phone. Box 201FLW.

HANDSOME & DOMINANT Muscular male, white, Libra, extremely safe and sane, turns on with light-medium S&M, B&D with the right submissive w / m, 18-25. Box 22671, Ft. Lauderdale, FL 33335.

MIAMI. SM. Scorpio. 37, 5'9%". White. Knowledgeable. Heavy oral orientation and exhibitionism de- sired, Box 047.

COCOA BEACH, S. Capricorn, 59, 5'6". 155. White, Knowledgeable. Open-minded, willing to please. Box 360

HIALEAH. SM. Pisces, 32, 5'8", 165, white, 6". Knowledgeable. Experienced in both roles to go as far as partner's experience permits. Part- ner should be well-built, over 28, not in Miami or Ft. Lauderdale. No fems, fats, long hairs, Box 009.

LAKE WORTH, SM. Pisces, 6'1". 175. White, 8", Old hand, 36 6'1". 175. White, 8". Old hand, Can endure much in either role and wants no-nonsense partner who knows what he is doing. Into heavy S&M, regular sex. No fems, ama- teurs, Box 1251. S&M,

MIAMI NARCISSIST BODY FREAK wants heavy tongue service from stoned slaves or other Masters, Into mirror trips, heavy w / s, kinks. Must be hardbodied like me, 22-45. Am goodlooking, 36, 5'9", 155. Write with photo. Box 303CA.

JACKSONVILLE. M. 39, 6', 160 lbs., 7'," white, seeks masculine dude, 25-90, for kinky scenes, j / o, piss, scat fantasies, dirty talk, enemas, tit work, in and out of levis, jocks. Photo and frank letter for reply. Box 40BC.

IDAHO

BOISE, SM, 44, 6', 158, uncut 7". Into spreadeagle, suspension sub- mission seeks tops or bottoms with lite or no body hair, slim, interested in B&D. No fats, scat, hairy. Box 052F8.

ILLINOIS

CHICAGO, M. 26, 5'11", 165 lbs., 6%", novice seeks intro to B&D, w / s, light S&M, Gr., Fr., w / aroma, 25-35. Gregg Yarbrough, 1525 W. Estes, Chicago, IL 60626.

White male slave, 26 needs experienced master, 30-50, heavy pro- longed bondage, rope, leather, gags, masks, mummification, w / s, servi- tude, spanking, heavy mental trip to develop training in Chicago Ares. Box 114.

Chicago, M. 23. 6'3", 180 lbs., 8" cut, athletic, lean, muscular, handsome, into B&D, S&M, levis, leather, heavy Gr and Fr action, needs rugged Master who wants me spread- eagle so he can use me any way he wants. Expand my limits. Box 309B.

CHICAGO, W / M, 33, 6', 155 lbs., looking for action, especially fucking and bondage. Send photo and phone to: Box 113.

CHICAGO. SM, Aries, 26, 5'6'', 147 lbs, white, 6'' butch body-builder, 40'' chest, 14X'' ams, hairy chest, tattoo; new to S&M, into levis, boots, wrestling, seeks muscular, butch studs into leather, levis, cigars, wrestlin will switch roles if you're man enough to get me on bottom. Send photo & phone to: Jim, Box T-24, 323 S. Franklin Blvd., No. 804, Chicago, IL 60606.

CENTRAL ILLINOIS, w / m, 29, 5'10", 155 lbs., bearded, Honda 750 owner seeks dominant biker or other strong, masculine types with love of leather, levis, boots, Light S&M, w / s possible. No drugs, non-smoker preferred. Box 405A.

ALTON. S. Capricorn, 35, 6', 170 lbs., white, knowledgeable, versatile, muscular, hunky stud seeks partner to 35. Should be clean-cut, no fats. Box 159M.

SLAVE OR MASTER? Chicago, Virgo, 30, 5'10", 160 lbs., blue eyes, hairy farst, give / take fucking, bondage, light S&M. Clean cut seeks same for one week mad, cut seeks same for one week mad, cut seeks same for one week mad, 281R

CHICAGO. M. Aries, 29, 5'10", 175 lbs., white, 7", knowledgeable. Enthusiastic and willing to try almost everything with levelheaded partner in good physical condition. No fems, fats, Box 1862.

EVANSTON. S, Scorpio. 46, 5'11", 175 lbs., white, 6", knowledgeable. Turned on by high, heavy boots and wants slave with same strong interest for mutually booted sessions. Respect limits, no fats, fems, hard drugs. Box 17R

CHICAGO MASTER

CHICAGO MASTER Out-of-stater comes to Chicago occasionally looking for slim slaves over 18 into bondage, discipline, shaving, w / s, FF and S&M. Am 6'2", 8'4" uncut, respect limits, imaginative , dominant, experienced. Hepl

McHENRY, M. 25, 5'8", 155, 7", Seeks muscular, rugged, masculine Master who will expect obedience and reward worship, I know I was born to serve. Box 058,

INDIANA

INDIANAPOLIS. S, Libra, 35, 6', 150, white, 7", old hand. Very demanding but considerate Master, heavy into S&M, bondage, humiliation with mature, dependable true slave to 45, No chickens, beginners or those weakles. those unable to follow complete domination, Box 132F.

KANSAS

HAYS. M. Aries, 33, 6'5", 200, white, 7", good body, hairy, bearded, boot and leather lover, know-ledgeable, seeks big, hairy master, 25-48, into leather, levis, wK, 8 &D, locks and boots. No heavy S&M, FF, or fems. Bikers come. Box 375K.

TULSA-KANSAS CITY Goodlooking, levi, white bottom- man moving to area in Fall. Seeks white topman, secure in who he is. Prefer uncut, trim, freewheeling. Box 376T.

KENTUCKY

BEST MATCH WITH BI 46, 160 lbs., 5'10", 6 6" cut, SM seeks slender, young, bisexual partners with average endowment or more. Experienced as top or bottom. Box 960KY.

LOUISIANA

NEW 5'9". ORLEANS, S. Virgo, NEW ORLEANS. S. Vilgo, S., 59", 150 lbs., white, needs Master who is patient and willing to teach novice. Enjoy leather, tit action. Write. Must be discreet. Send name and phone number, photo if possible. Box 666B.

HARVEY. SM, Leo. 42, 6', 215 lbs., white, 7'', novice. Firm but gentle, understanding of partner's likes / dislikes. Seeks similar into role- switching. No fems, drunks. Box 1307 1307

You won't find our Fraternity on any Campus…

This is not to say that there isn't a practitioner or two at good old State U, but the LEATHER FRA-TERNITY will hardly be on the list between Phi Delta and Sigma Chi.

Definitely not a school sponsored organization, the LEATHER FRATERNITY is a select group of interested , and interesting, Leathermen the world over. These are guys who are into what you're giving - or getting, as the case may be.

Moreover, the LEATHER FRATERNITY is a guaranteed , discreet method of meeting people who balance your particular wants and desires without your having to suffer the possible embarrassment of asking dumb questions in a heavy leather bar … or in student lounge between classes.

There are numerous advantages to membership in the LEATHER FRATERNITY. Elsewhere in this issue you'll notice listing of Fraternity members. As a member yourself, you'll have the privilege of contacting those members who appeal to you. You, too, will have such an ad listing … absolutely free. During the term of your membership you will receive DRUMMER at no charge … and that's worth thirty bucks right there! There are no other dues or assessments .

The cost? Surprisingly low … just $50 a year. Interested? Then simply fill out, clip and mail the coupon below. Wouldn't you really rather be a Fraternity brother than a sorority sister?

IF YOU ARE ALREADY A DRUMMER SUBSCRIBER, YOUR COST IS ONLY $25!

NEW ORELANS, w / m, 30, 5'9", 145, 6", novice, eager to learn from muscular, honest, clean, hung, gentle-yet-firm partner, Box 701B.

BATON ROUGE, S. Leo. 28, 5'10". 170 lbs., white, 8", knowledgeable, Good top man enjoys satisfying lave's real desires. Must be at least 8", masculine, Box 47W.

LAFAYETTE, couple: Aries, 28, 510", 170 lbs, white, 7" and cancer, 20, 5'6", 135 lbs, white, 9". Group scenes, Clean, discreet, masculine, jocks, What's your scene? 101LAR.

MASSACHUSETTS

BOSTON, S. Aries, 42, 5'10" lbs., white, 6", knowledgeable. 150 lbs., white, 6", knowledgeable. Seeks partner over 18 for strict discipline and prolonged bondage. Same size or smaller, smooth body. Must submit to pubic shaving and being owned. WASPS welcomed; discretion as- sured, long-term relationship pos- sible. Box 253,

BOSTON, M. white, 25, 5'11", 150 lbs., seeks S into bondage, toys, S&M, w / s, whips, face fucking. No scat, FF, shaving. Heavy into bondage. Box 102MAN.

BOSTON, 2 guys, 30s, S: 5'9", 150 lbs., into leather, rubber, w / s, etc. M: 6', 165 lbs., into rubber infantilism, w / s, and serving beer drinkers. Both masculine, virile, slim and like threesemes with other. S and like threesomes with other S who enjoys giving w / s and receiving head, Box 101MAP.

MICHIGAN

TAYLOR. MS. Capricorn, 24, 5'10", 165, white, 6%". Novice. Eager to learn from and submit to the right S. Will serve Master totally. Box 261.

FARMINGTON, S. Virgo, 33, 5'6". 135. White, 8½". Knowledgeable. Firm Master demands obedient ex- perimental slave. No balds, fats, dominants. Box 052D.

SM <math>-</math> 26. Scorpio, 7", 6'1", 230. Adaptable to many situations, Willing and able to please. Box 101MIM.

MINNESOTA

DOMINANT MAN, 40, 5'11", 168 lbs., wants passive man for bondage. Age, race, looks, location doesn't matter. I love big tits and hairless bodies, Muscles and trim a must. No fats, heavy drugs or drunks. Box 169B

MISSOURI

KANSAS CITY, M. Virgo, 23, 5'4" 130 lbs., white, 6", honest, good good-looking slave needs discipline / affec- tion from dominant Master. Dig muscles, big hands, boots. Must be sincere, secure, experienced. Box 667D

ST. LOUIS. S. Leo. 31, 5'9", 210. White. 6". Knowledgeable. Demands strict obedience; will punish any infraction with pain. Partner must have stamina, youthful appearance, can be to late 40s. Box 245.

23,5'4", 130 lbs, 6" cut, looking for muscular, straight-looking, rugged man to be my Master, buddy, lover. Am clean cut, honest, quiet, intelligent and submissive. No drugs or seat. Should be 30-45, good build, hung and i to big hands, Box 667D.

ST. LOUIS / KANSAS CITY Dominant Master, 6'2", 185 lbs., uncut 8%", seeks receptive slaves when I travel to your area, Am ag-when I travel to your area, Am ag- gressive, sperienced, imaginative, re- spectful of limits, Into S&M, B&D, Wis, shaving, FF, etc. You should be over 18, receptive, white, slender and masculine. You should include your ph

NEW JERSEY

IN NEED OF FRIENDS? The Egyptian, a private club, offers a relaxed ambience which includes plush surroundings conducive to con- versation, as well as a dignified al- ternative in which men may privately rendezvous. For additional informa- tion call (201) 295-4900. TRULY AN OASIS LOCATED IN CENTRAL NEW JERSEY

NORTHERN NEW JERSEY: W / M, 38, 62", 185, hairy, knowledgeable, masculine, dominant and aggressive Master, yet quiet, straight acting and appearing seeks slaw, 25-35, for permanent live-in relationship. Musture hold a plus W cular body a plus. Willing to train novice to my ways, Will respect limits. No hard or ruff stuff, No drugs, fats, fems or phonies. Box 291.

HIGHSTOWN. M. 32, 5'8", 160, 7" cut. Blonde hunk seeks being controlled. Prefer Master in total leather. Seeks butch looking cut dominant that can relate out of the bedroom as well. Box 201NJ.

JERSEY CITY, M. Libra, 34, 6', 163, White, 6'k''. Novice, Have enjoyed light leather bondage & spanking white spreadeagle, Ready for more. Need rugged Master who wants me in that position so he can use me any way he wants & let his friends use me too. I'll serve as third to Master and slave. Can get into Man- hattan easily, Box 101NJ.

RANDOLPH, S. Scorpio, 36, 6'2", 180, White, 6\%", Knowledgeable, 180. White, 6½". Knowledgeable, Seeks permanent slave, 20s to mid-30s, to share life and private house. Into leather bondage. Willing to train and will respect limits. No fats, fems, hard drugs. Box 291.

NEW YORK

GREENWICH VILLAGE, 28, 6'2" 155 lbs., blonde bodybuilder, 10½" thick and uncut. Fantastic pecs, super buns, seeks similar or anything hot and dirty from 18-45. Twist my tits, fist my ass, scat my mouth and then piss all over me. Leather, levis, groups, wet and willing. Insatiable and without any limits. Your photo gets mine, plus anything else you may want. Box 118.

NIPPLE AND PEC FREAKS W / M, 6'3", 37, 51" chest, slab pecs, cone shaped tits that never get\nenough, wants to meet / hear from heavy chested, big titted guys into long tit workout sessions. Live your pingle fantav Chest pic ea nipple fantasy. Chest pic gets mine. Heavy titted torso friend available for threesomes. Box 451B.

NYC / NJ, Libra, 22, 5'10", 150 lbs., 7", seeking a macho leather topman for regular hot sessions. Like B&D, smoke, amyl. Clean. Photo preferred. Box 190.

MASCULINE GERONTOPHILE Libra, 6'3", 60, slender, will do any- thing for the masculine male who is turned on my my type. Box 290X.

NYC UNIFORM MAN, MS, 30, 6*, 150 lbs., w / m, 8", hot, moustache, into L / L, uniforms, cycles, boots, seeks fough, well-hung, muscular men who are versatile and can keep it up, Also into fantasies and 3 or more groups with th

UNIFORM LEATHERMASTER Trim, 40, requires guy who under- stands submission and service as virtues and is prepared and anxious to bare his ass and bend his back in my service out of strength, not weakness, in a world that is soft and undisciplined. Box 451T.

SUPER HEAVY S&M Way out and wild S&M given to hot, young slave by brutal, well-equipped Master. Real m's send photo, age, experience to: Box 12-R, c / o Room 418, 152 West 42nd St., NYC, NY 10036.

Goodlooking, white, 34, 5'11", 160 lbs. needs total domination and lbs. needs total domination and steep who will make new worship, begrovel at his feet. I dig all kinky scenes, B&D, w / s, tit play, shaving, etc. Send photo

SILICONE Want to hear from men into silicone injections for huge meat. Exchange ideas and photos. Can travel. Box 405E

SIT ON MY FACE You big burly guys or short stockys, plant your hunky levi / leather asses on my ass-eating face and let my talented tongue / mouth do the rest, talented tongue / mouth do the rest, of and of servicing runged guys. The more rugg

VISUAL JO Is visual j / o with hot, handsome, muscular stud your trip? Reply with photo to: Box 43, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.

MATURE SCATMAN wants masculine, unwashed partners, 35-55. Average looks, build. Unin- hibited leatherman. Fully experi- enced in water sports, C&B work, enced in water sports, C&B work, tit work, ass worship, sloopy animal action. Freaky penpals welcome. Trade smelly jockstraps & photos. In Manhattan. Box 281A.

WOODBURY, LONG ISLAND, SM, Taurus, 43, 5'9". 172. White, 6". Knowledgeable. Trustworthy, re- sponsible, intelligent, creative and fully aware of risks and dangers. Wishes to fulfill M fantasies with masculine, discreet, cl fakes, Box 185R.

NEW YORK. S. Taurus. 44. 6'. 170. White, 7". Novice. Seeks dark, hairy slave with large uncut cock. Must be knowledgeable, clean. Box

ILION, MS, Gemini, 47, 5'8", 130, White, 5\mathbb{W}', Completely inexperienced. At best when told what to do and forced by patient and under- standing Master, preferably blond Aryan type. Must be cut and clean, well-endowed. Box 141.

FLUSHING, SM. Taurus, 43, 5'8' 180, White, 6". Knowledgeable 180. White. 6". Knowledgeable. Biker into Leather / Levi / masculine scene seeks intelligent, butch partner. Will switch roles for right person. No fems, blacks. Box 052H.

M. 45, 6', digs dirt or any kind of group or single, day, weekend or longer, scatological scenes in dungeon, cage, car repair shop, pig pen, horse or cow stable, or what have you. FF, w / s, S&M, ball action, secure but loose restraints for B&D, what have tit and balls. Black or white, any age over 21. Like to have pictures taken. Picture furnished. Box 405B.

BUFFALO, W / M, 25, 5'9", 185, 7" uncut, into leather, inexperienced in S&M but interested in pain and giving it. Looking for levi wearer / leather lover, 21-35, into S&M and discretion. Box 404BNY,

MANHATTAN, Mature Black Scorpio seeks mature, white, French active, not-fat slave — my portable glory hole, my personal toilet, my private cunt. Box 451R.

NASSAU COUNTY, SM. Taurus, 45, 5'9". 172, 6" uncut, White, Know-ledgeable, Imaginative in either role, Seeks serious, macho leather / levi partner to 48 with reasonable en- durance, into S&M, spreadeagle bon- dage, dog discipline. No extremes. Limits respected, expanded. No fems, fats, fakes. Box 185R.

BROOKLYN. M. Aquarius. 33. 6'. 170. White, Cherokee Indian, 7%"\nuncut. Knowledgeable. Smooth, body-building, talented, tight ass, slave needs domineering Master to 40 over 6", hairy, hung, into B&D. No role-switching, scat

ATTENTION RUBBERMEN Fishermen, sewermen, etc. Hip- booted, gasmasked w / m, 25, 5'7", seeks you for heavy j / o, piss and friendship. Must own and truly love heavy black rubber hipboots, waders, raingear, even innertubes. Let's hose each other with water or piss, slosh in the rain, or slog through the mud. Call (212) 662-0447.

WANTED: Young gays over 18. I'm goodlooking, Italian, married, 29, 6', 170, hung. Daytime, your place only. Box 154, Westchester Sta., Bronx, NY 10461.

CIGAR SMOKING STUD, bearded, tattoo, 37, 6', 170, 8", into uniforms, leather, boots, w / s, S&M, FF, all far out scenes. Playroom. Want to meet same type. Send photo. Can Travel. Box 4516.

NIPPLE AND PEC FREAKS W / m, 6'3", 37, 51" chest, slab pecs, cone shaped tits that never get\nenough, wants to meet / hear from heavy chested, big titted guys into long tit workout sessions. Live your nipple fantasy. Chest pic for three-somes, Box 451B,

NEW YORK, 45. M. 5'8", blond, dig macho male any age, levi, leather, tattoos, motorcycles, Write: Box 285 Downstairs, 166 West 21 St., New York, NY 10011.

NEW YORK, novice slave seeks white Master with mustache who likes to smoke cigars. I'm 25, 5'6", 150 lbs., white. Box 408B.

FRESH MEADOWS. M. 34, 175, Taurus. White, 6". Uncut. Seek mature, adult, macho male with head together. Levi, leather, construction. I can take orders. Blonde, blue-eyed German seeks anything but deen. Ray 050H. drag. Box 052H.

GYM JOCK Gym sock jock wants to rent Levi j / o buddy. Send photo. Box 414, 166 W. 21 St., NYC, NY 10011.

Replying to a coded ad? See form on page 53

DRUMMER 57

NEW YORK, M. Aquarius, 36, 5'7", 130 lbs., 7" cut, goodlooking, cleancut novice seeks macho, good- looking, dominant partners, Likes looking, dominant partners. Likes verbal abuse, humiliation and w / s from masculine, cleancut top men, 25-50. No hard S&M or brutality. Tight, hard build and boots a turn on. Box 220K.

ITALIAN NOVICE Passive beginner is looking for the right man to make me sexually into whatever he wants. Am 38, 5'9", 6%" uncut, You should be over 35, into leather / levis, hung, and looking for the one person to settle down with Box 665E

Early 40s, making up for lost time. Interested in masculine guys for rough and ready relationship. Dig levis, boots, leather, sweaty joek straps and other athletic gear to ignite fantasies. Box 701F.

NEW YORK. M. Aquerius. 38, 58", 145, white, 7", maxculine and obscilent but needing training and discipline from rugged master over 40 who believes in keeping his slave naked and spreadeagle and ready to service him and hi

NORTH CAROLINA

RALEIGH, MS, Taurus, 37, 6'1", 170, white, 6". Knowledgeable. Butch submissive digs hung, hand-some, arrogant S to 40, any race, to verbally abuse, humiliate, use for cock, piss, ass service. Versatile, mature. No heavy pa

OHIO

CLEVELAND, SM, 35, 6', 186 lbs., muscular / husky build, inexperienced but tend towards S role, seeks 26- 35, up to 6', white, under 200 lbs., at least 6" for further experimentation , Box 665H.

COLUMBUS. SM, Taurus. 25. 5'9". 183. White, 6'/". Novice, satisfaction guaranteed to sincere, straight appearing butch types. No fems, appearing butch types, No fats, snobs, chicken, Box 365.

SM. 25, 5'9" 150 lbs., 7" cut, is ex perienced in both roles, have worked out with real pros. Am compassionate and mature during scenes and expect the same. Not interested in uncut, bearded, very hairy, over 30, fat or fems. Mental stability important. Box 300.

CLEVELAND. MS. Aries. 46, 5'10". 155, White. 6'/." Novice. French active, Greek passive. Wants to please large, well-built partner to 50. No fats, heavy S&M, B.O. Box 017V.

AKRON. MS. Gemini, 43, 6'1". 195, White. 6'4". Knowledgeable. Into heavy B&D, light S&M. Would switch roles with right partner. No extreme pain, heavy drinkers or drug users, hippies. Box 187L.

OKLAHOMA

TRAVELING MASTER. 32. 6'2". Solid 195. 8". Gets to Baton Rouge, Shreveport, Dallas, Houston, Austin, Albuquerque, Little Rock and Oklahoma City. Seeks willing slave with magic mouth and hot ass. Into sweaty jocks. Box 2077

Replying to a coded ad? See form on page 53

OK CITY S. 6'2", 32, 195, 8" cut. I give orders and expect obedience or punishment prevails. Looking for over 25, under 6'2" with average en- downent; perhaps in jock strap and chaps, Box 1010K.

OREGON

PORTLAND. 31. 5'5". 165 lbs., dark and hairy, 7", wants to meet hunky truckers, troopers, cowboys, construction workers, body builders into leather, levis, w / s, Fr., tattoos, beards & hair a turn-on. Send photo, address; answer with same. No overly fems, fakes, drugs or blacks. Box 667B

W / M, 30, 6%", wants to correspond with and meet raunchy studs. Into piss, spit, uniforms, dirty talk, smoke, amyl, jocks, oil, urinals and far out sex. Send photo with dirty letter. Box 309A.

PENNSYLVANIA

WILKES BARRE. S. Cancer, 41, 6', 170, white, 12". Old hand, military disciplinarian with rural stockade, 20 ousciphinarian with rural stockade, 20 years military exp, seeks prisoners from beginners to experienced for penal discipline. Scene is of primary importance. Steel bondage, cells, cages, heavy physical exercise used. Will

BOXING INSTRUCTIONS I'm 27, 6'3", 185 lbs., looking for a guy who is good with his fists and could dig teaching a beginner the ropes. Into both ring and street fighting. Man-to-man workouts, 10— 14 oz. gloves, occasional bare-fist ngnting, Man-to-man Workouts, 10– 14 oz. gloves, occasional bare-fist bouts. L / L wrestling, weight train- ing cool also. If you're under 30, level-headed, but get into playing rough once in a while, I think we should talk.

PHILADELPHIA. M. Libra. 49, 5'10'%", 140. White. 8". Completely inexperienced. Willing and eager to learn from refined, well-built partner to 50. Box 052F.

PHILADELPHIA. S. Virgo / Scorpio. 42, 5'7". 160. White. 7". Knowledgeable. Italian, stallion, muscular and hairy, experienced to understand limits in all areas. Master seeks stand limits in all areas, waster seeks masculine, obedient slave to serve his leather, chains and boots. Will train up to 35 in S&M, B&D, W / S, chains, bike and western leather toys. Send letter of submission, with photo a phone. No bullshit. Box 052

KINGSTON, M. 30, 6'1", 180 lbs., medium build, hairy chest, big balls, 7" cut, novice is absolutely willing to learn to please. Looking for dominant Master who is into leather, is masculine, Box 119.

PHILADELPHIA. M. Cancer. 40. 6'2". 210. White, 7". Intermediate but learning fast. Masculine weight-lifter with 48" chest, 34" waist wants to expand experiences with a construction of the construction. experienced, clean, masculine S. Box 023

PHILADELPHIA. S. Aquarius. 46, 5'9". 165. White. 7". Knowledgeable, masculine 5 seeks M under 35 into $&M, B&D, W / S, oil, leather, levis, amyl. Send photo and phone number with respectful letter. Box 209.

TEXAS

PERMANENT SLAVE AVAILABLE M, 24, 5'10", 160 lbs., needs brutal

Master to enforce permanent slavery. Torture, brainwashing, piercing, shaw ing, permanent bondage, w / s, scat; all needed, Sir! I need to be shown my proper place in life, at your feet, worshipping your boots. Photo and letter will get prompt reply. Box 451V.

FT WORTH, SM, 47, 6'2", 190 lbs., 7" uncut, German Aquarius is looking for either slave or Master. Either should be knowledgeable, clean, not into drugs, interested in motorcycles, uniforms, boots. Not into FF, scat, w / s. Box 059D.

TOTAL & COMPLETE SLAVE White, 5'10", 24, 155 lbs, 7½", needs permanent master, need to be pierced, branded, shaved and turned into a complete and total slave, a pleee of property, to be used as a toilet. Box 116.

WASHINGTON

TACOMA, SM, completely inex- perienced, 7", uncut, 5'10", 240 lbs. Box 181X.

TACOMA. SM. Capricorn. 37. 6'2½", 190. White. 7". Novice wants to learn both roles from clean, knowledgeable partner. Owns Harley and prefers bike owner. No fems, fats. prefers biki Box 185G2.

WISCONSIN

WATERTOWN. S. Libra. 27. 6'. 175, White. 7''. Novice, Will satisfy needs of mutually honest, understanding partner, into W / S, B&D, humiliation, public exhibition. No heavy dury sofficial types Pow 1200W. heavy drugs, selfish types. Box 130W.

MANITOWOC, SM. Aquarius, 28, 5'7", 150, White, 7", Novice, Mean, bearded stud seeks available contacts to 24 with nice ass, at least 6". Nobody too involved in gay scene. Box 062K.

MILWAUKEE, MA, Capricorn, 42, 6'4½", 210, White, 6", Knowledge- 6'4%". 210. White, 6". Knowledge- able, Fifteen years as a slave has taught him to enjoy both sides with intelligent partner 25-60. No fats, Box 294V85.

VIRGINIA

RICHMOND. S. Leo, 45, 6°1", 175, white, 8" cut, brown hair / blue eyes. Harley rider, ex-cycle cop into high boots, breeches, cycle cop uniforms, studs into big bikes and studs who ride them, clears, L / L, truckers, horses, w

SM (S preferred) 29, 5'6", 142 lbs., muscular, 8" cut, seeks short-haired, cleancut, muscular M who is masculine and knows how to follow orders. ine and knows how to follow orders. Am demanding, forceful — but know when to pull back, respect limits, While I am attracted to other tops, it takes quite a man to get me to bottom, and then not for very long. Box 294V50.

MAIL ORDER

PHOTOS Photos of over 360 semi-nude young (adult) male swimmers: $8, 240 young (adult) wrestlers (over half the photos are action close-ups) for $8. Add $2 per set to cover 1st Class- postage and handling, Leland Wiegert Jr., Box 2474-DM, R.H.E., CA

Box 2474-DM, R.H.E., 64. Satisfaction guaranteed or 90274. Satis Money Back.

NUDE BEACHES: Complete maps NUDLE BEACHES: Complete maps and detailed information only $3. NUDE RESORTS: nation wide listings, revealing guide only $5. USA & Canada. Both: $7, air mailed, Personal checks accepted. GEODETICS, Box 3382-D, Station B, Ca

INITIATIONI Hear young Mark get paddled on his bare butt by his fraternity brothers. Quality C-60 cassette, airmailed in brown wrapper, only $10, VISA, BankAmericard, check. Geodetics, Box 3382-S, Station B, Calgary, Canada T2M 4M1.

PHOTOS W / M SEEKS PHOTOS OF MALES 18 TO 40 FRONT / REAR / SIDE DES IN TIGHT LEVIS, BIKINIS, POSING STRAPS ALL RACES WANTED SEND SAMPLE, PRICE: BOX 400211, DALLAS, TX 75240

WOODSHED DISCIPLINE Nude, tied young guys. Hear them cry, beg and whimper under the strap, the paddle, even the whip. Unretouched tape, only $10. Air malled in plain wrapper. VISA, BankAmericard, check. Geodetics, Box 3382-5. Station B, Cellg

FILM DEVELOPMENT We develop e.print all poses, color prints 12x or 20x: $4.99; 36x: $9.99 $8w dev & proof sheet: $2.99. We do prints from slides. Polaroid copies, duplicates, 8mm movies, etc. Complete prices & free info, write to: FILMART,

ENEMA EQUIPMENT. Practical, fun, freaky, for cleanliness, disciplining slaves, whatever. Full line of unusual equipment plus other assoriented toys. Catalogue $1.00. Art Hamilton, 315 West 4th St., New York, NY 10014.

USE OUR ADDRESS for your "PRIVATE MAIL." Pick- up and remail. Discreet. Friendly. Confidential. 5th year. Widely recom- mended. Downstains Mail Service, Dept 9, 166 West 21st St., NYC, NY 10011.

NUDE BEACHES USA and Canada. Detailed maps and complete report only $3. Be ready for that all-over tan and holiday fun. Geodetics, Box 3382-S, Station B, Calgary, Canada T2M 4M1. Personal checks accepted.

JOCKSTRAPS worn by construction workers and gymnasts: $3, each. Raunchy: $5, each. Please add $1, for postage and handling to: Marty, 5947 Carlton Way No. 8, Hollywood, CA 90028.

HOT BLACK MEN Centaur's Domain has corraled 8 stunning Black studs in his stable. Send 75c for our latest brochure which features these incredible hunks of manpower. Centaur's Domain, Dept. 3, Box 529, San Francisco, CA 94101.

DISCIPLINE TAPES Hear naked young guys get severely beaten with the paddle, the tawse, the strap, even the whip. Free brochure airmailed in plain envelope. Geodetics, Box 3382-S, Station B, Calgary, Alberta, Canada T2M 4M1.

CHICO / LATINO PHOTO GUIDE Strapping Puerto Rican leather Frat/ JD males catering to meek guys over 21. $10. from: Jose Perez, Calle 8, G-15, V. Braegger, Guaynabo, PR 00657.

I GLORY HOLE !

$25. Filmed in a surfer's men's room, through a real glory hole with hidden movie camera. Was risky to film. See those hunky rods spurt their golden showers! Other films in S8 color, 55', are: Lockerroom, Nude Sa Color, 55, are: Lockerroom, Nude Surfers, Marines-Navy, Nude Beaches, Lifeguards, etc. $25, each. Order: Baron Von Fresin, 1231 Dorothy, LA., CA 90049. Sign if 21! More information, send $1.

AUSTRALIA

ADELAIDE / SOUTH ADELAIDE / SOUTH AUSTRALIA MS, Taurus, 38, 6%", 5'10", 156 lbs., novice, digs leather, boots, bikes, needs to be gently by bs., novice digs really but firmly in- needs to be gently but firmly in- structed in the art of servicing well- built, hairy master to 50. Collar, built, hairy master to 50. Collar, chains and cuffs really turn me on. No fats, fems or drugs. Box 281C. (Include airmail postage with replies to this ad.)

GOODLOOKING AUSTRALIAN Jy, 37, 5'10", 155 lbs., whit guy, 37, 510", 155 lbs, white, Taurus, digs cycle riders, uniformed cycle cops, high boots, breeches, leather. A real cop or CHP a bonus. Must dig breeches and boots, Your photo gets mine. Box 120 (Please include oversæas

property / of / the [×3+] young, goodlooking with average build. For inspection and interview, reply with recent photo and frank letter. No games or freaks, All seri- ous answered. Box 667E.

CANADIAN DISCIPLINARIAN seeks father / son relationship. Confused? Get straightened out! (604) 921-7721. Anytime.

SM, 39, 5'11", 6" uncut, inexperienced but very willing to learn. Into leather, levi and cowboy fantasies . Am versatile and willing to assume either role with proper instruction . Box 491D.

TORONTO MASTER wants well-built athlete or bodybuilder for lifetime slave. You are a docile, obedient "Q" as in "The Story of Q" longing for a permanent, secure life as a piece of property. To be used, abused, branded, pierced and worked as I choose is your only desire. Your Master is young, good-looking with average build. For inspection and interview, reply with recent photo and frank letter. No games or freaks. All serious answered, Box 667E

Initiate wishes to contact experts in Magic, Voo-Doo, Satanism, Covens, disciples, etc. (604) 921-7721, any hour.

WEST GERMANY

WEST GERMAN Dutchman, young looking 40, living in West Germany, seeks dominating, slim partner to 30 for lasting relationship , Possible living together, Box WG901. (Include Overseas Airmail WG901. postal rate with reply for forwarding)

Replying to a coded ad? See form on page 53

COLOGNE, SM, 45, 6', white, 7" uncut, into either role, experienced and convincing, masculine, slender and convincing, masculine, slender and muscular, tends towards S role, Interested in meeting men into more than sex. Should be intelligent, masculine, wear leather naturally. Should be my age or younger, not fat, no fems. ad.)

DENMARK

COPENHAGEN, 2 hot Danish studs, 37 and 38, are looking for new friends who go in for more than just If the distribution of the little was a second of the little was a second of the little was a second of the little was a second of the little was a second of the little was a second of the little was a second of the little with other guys who also have good collections of photos and drawings concerning S&M. We have our own darkroom for developing and copy- ing, Box 665C. (Include overseas airmail postage with replies to this ad.)

BOOTED DANISH LEATHER-GUY 33, 6'2", hung and hairy versatile 33, 6'2", hung and hairy, versatile, into many scenes and anxious to expand present limits. Visiting L.A., S.F., Chicago and N.Y. Aug / Sept. to meet groovy all-leather guys for fuck-ing / sucking and what else is good. Photo if poss, Please write to: Mogens S. Kruse, 2 Vestervang, DK-8000 Aarhus C. Denmark.

ENGLAND

CONDON LEATHER GUY 6'2", 170 lbs., white, 7" cock, very active, strictly top, wants to meet groovy, muscular slaves who know how to serve a real Master. I am into how to serve a real Master. I am into most scenes and really enjoy man-to-man action with guys who are to man action with guys who are on your knees. Send a bhoto write on your knees. Send a bhoto write will send mine. If

POLAND

Would like to correspond with American gay men, especially from California, Am 24, passive. Angelo Hoszonski, Wariszanska 15 / 6, 44-100 Gilwice, POLAND.

PUERTO RICO

A Canadian, 5'11", 36, with new condominium, willing to accommodate visitors this winter into w / s, leather, levis, fucking, rimming, spanking. Phone (809) 722-3631.

SWEDEN

MUST BE REALLY MALE 30-year-old M can assume either role; interested in the real man. role; interested in the real main. Tends to be passive. Into levis, leather, cowboys. Into sex toys. Can travel. Willing to correspond with other Masters and slaves. Box 228M. (Include Overseas Airmail postage with re

SWITZERLAND

Leather stud, 27, into heavy chests and big pecs, muscular asses; would like to see photos of American into leather straps, eavy action. Anreas bodybuilders Jocks and heavy action. A Buhlmann, Nordstrasse 59, Zurich CH, Switzerland. 8006

CONTACT

HOT & HORNEY? Let us put you in touch with the guys you want to meet! All types! Nationwide. Free information. Friends Unlimited, Box 3961-CE, N. Hollywood, CA 91609.

THE QUARTERS CONFINES Specialized training resulting in certified slaves. Custody services and Advanced Training available. THE QUARTERS ACADEMY Uniforms as an attitude, Drills, maneuvers, bivouses and security. THE QUARTERS ELITE Command and Support personnel. Proper requests to: THE QUARTERS ELITE THE QUARTERS Box 3119, S.F., CA 94119 Official Business (415) 861-6275

DISCIPLIN-TRODUCTIONS! Meet men into S&M, B&D, Send $1, for questionnaire to: Box 712, Dept. Q, New York, NY 10011. (100 Bank-5A)

LATE ARRIVALS

INTO PIERCING? Body Jewelry? Have plans to come to San Francisco? Contact Taylor of San Francisco (768 Clementina) for full line and services. (415) 552-1540 See ad in Shopper Section.

PHOTO EXCHANGE Amateur photographer would like to exchange photos with others, 5x7 or larger. No polaroids or Xerox, Sample and interests gets same. Box 229.

HOT RECRUIT seeks steady customer for good servicing. A man-sized meal in a military fashion. Dinner served nightly 6 to 10pm. Closed Tuesday. Reservations: (416) 864-5051.

DADDY'S

ALTERNATE SETS Complete sets for 1978, Issues 1 thru 6 of The Alternate: The American Magazine of Sexual Politics are available for $10.00 postpaid from: Alternate Publications, 1730 Diviseders S. F. CA 94116

FRANCISCO. M. 36, 5'11" SAN 175 Completely experienced into S&M. Very arrogant, romantic and strong minded. Former European movie star. Seeks master-lover more arrogant than I to show me my place. 35 to 45, looks unimportant but mature responsible, capable of feel- ing, stable, intelligent and person- ality a must. I can be into anything without it being pre-arranged. With the right person things can come by itself as long as it is enjoyable for both. Intelligent conversation after- wards — a big plus! Box 167.

SAN FRANCISCO, 33, 5'8", 150 lbs., bearded, oral obedience, tit- work, rimming, humiliation, verbal abuse, jockstraps, begging: either role. No pain or bondage. Box 64, 537 Jones, S.F., CA 94102.

MS, early 40s, well built, attractive, personable, versatile, seeks stable partner for any activity. B&D, S&M or just good times. Will share great pad with right guy, 25 to 45, good-looking, good body, good attitude. Box 125.

SMELLY JOCKS

Hot, hairy leather stud, into flexing and wrestling, is selling his bag of ripe, rancid jockstraps. All are well broken-in and are heavily stained with sweat, piss, cum, oil and amyl. Just right for those private posing se

LAUDERDALE PISS FREAK. Drink and drink and drink some more. Tape my mouth to your source and let me gorge myself. Let me sleep with you and wake up to the morning stream, good and strong. Let me come to the bars with you and watch you drink, then take me to the alley, or the car, and let me get on my knees and quench my thirst, 30, W / M. JB-208.

Seeking Japanese college students willing to exchange language lessons for sessions, Box 172 (WI)

S.F. BAY AREA, w / m, early 40s, 5'4', 130 lbs., straight appearance, interests include horseback riding, bicycling and hiking (motorcycles a possibility), turned on by horse and motorcycle types, would like to put some of his raunchy fantasies into reality action with compatable buddy or buddies. Box 175.

SAMURAI WARRIOR Anglo dude, young, slender, fair, uncut, goodlooking, has fantasy about dominance by Samurai warrior. Reality would be for an Asian, hopefully Japanese dude, taller than my 5'10", slender to muscular, to my 5'10", slender to muscular, to stride into my life in ceremonial robes, naked underneath, brandishing a traditional Samurai sword, Would humbly bow and serve. Others with same or similar fantasy encouraged write, share, explore. Photos? Box 176. (CA)

GRANADA HILLS, white, 21, novice slave seeks understanding Master to train me right. Box 174,

LEATHERSEX WANTED M, 5'11", 145 lbs., 7" cut, good-looking slave, firm, sweaty, smooth body, seeking hot young stud for total service. Box 158. (CA)

WISCONSIN READERS, all this is new to you but reading about it has got you hot and hard? Want to learn more about different scenes as well as about yourself? If you are willing to learn and obey, I am willing to instruct. Box 173.

TURNED ON SLAVE, 27, 6' and booted, wants real masters to 40, into all scenes. Travel USA and Europe constantly. Please, Sir, write me your intentions and instructions. Real thing, No freaks, Box 124,

CHICAGO, M, 6'3", 175 lbs., 23, 8" cut, semi-muscular, goodlooking, brown hair / eyes, seeks muscular, short haired, white Masters over 6', over 8' in leather, levis, Can serve the master who knows how to demand service and

CAUTION: Subscribers are reminded that subscriptions to Drummer age available only from Drummer Magazine, 1730 Divisadero, San Francisco, and the subscription agents for Drumer than the above address. Drumer can assume no mer can assume no responsibility for subscribers sending money and / or subscription orders to anywhere other than Drummer's official address .

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AME ACHO

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I AM OF LEGAL AGE (SIGN) _

MER views the Flicks

The greatest threat to the homosexual in America today is not the Anita Bryants or John Briggs campaigning for Christ or political advancement. Nor is it the political propositions threatening to infringe upon human rights. The greatest threat to the homosexual is his failure to be self-reliant , to stop pretending that institutions - family, church, government, or anyone else - are going to save him from the wrath of the irrational and award him his rights as an individual. MIDNIGHT EXPRESS, Hollywood's current killer, offers a vivid visual reminder for the homosexual not yet convinced that self-reliance is the only escape from the prison into which his own fear has cast him.

Gays will turn onto MIDNIGHT EX-PRESS . But for all the wrong reasons. They will cream for the James Dean-like Brad Davis who portrays Billy Hayes, a young American imprisoned for his attempt to honcho some hash out of Tur- key. Davis is hot. Physically, that is. As an actor he plays the role with little dimension up, down, or sideways. Bland is a good descriptive.

For the heavy duty gays in the crowd, it's a heavy chunk of physical abuse on Billy Hayes and his fellow inmates that will bring joy to their hards. Hard is the word no matter what end of the battering rod your psyche is touching. But all the sadism is Hollywood gloss. Sure, it looks real. Sure the audience gasps and cringes. Sure you can feel the whap of the rod on the soles of your feet as you hang suspended in a torture hall. But we should expect as much from Hollywood, Unfortunately, the torture is always a little too real, a little too perfect, a little too refined.

Gays will turn onto the intimate exchanges of Billy and a friend in a shower. Maybe they will not notice a single jes-ture 10 seconds later in the next scene, Billy's raised finger, that lets his friend, and us, know, in no undertain terms, that Billy Hayes is no queer in a Turkish prison. Despite the book's revelation that Billy developed a homosexual relationship with a Swedish prisoner, Hollywood has chosen to deny all such possibilities

and keep Billy Hayes celibate for five years. It's fine to have Billy bite off the tongue of an informer in a ghastly scene of violence: here is salable entertainment for a wide box office market. But homosexuality ? Hollywood did not want to offend its potential customers.

The snags that plague the film should not detract from a visually stunning cinematography that mellows the eye with poetry-like visions and satisfies our need to escape the abject ugliness to which MIDNIGHT EXPRESS subjects us. The musical score is so excellent you hardly know it is there. Its presence is conntrapuntal stimuli that cleverly massages the heart like musical poppers without the morning-after headache.

In sharp contrast to the weak characterization by Brad Davis, John Hurt is more than magnificent as Max, a half beaten, English hippy, who shares the prison screen with Billy Hayes. Max is mentor, seer, cynic, wiseman, and fool. But, unlike Hayes, he has lost it, lost the resiliancy to fight back or to even care

Even with its weaknesses, and aided its moments of strength, MIDNIGHT EXPRESS is an important film for the homosexual. Cut through the bullshit play for your praise by the film's half-baked hints at homosexuality. Cut through a cinematic violence that is, while being excessive, somehow void and empty of real brutality. Cut through Brad Davis' pretty face and tight ass. Bask in the film's cinemagraphic superiority and realize that the turnkey for you has to be self-reliance.

Despite a father and a government working for his release, Billy Hayes knows from the day the judge extends to 30 years his almost completed prison term that he is alone in surviving his prison , that he is alone in his escape. With this realization, he takes hold of his future and fixes his direction on the Midnight Express.

The homosexual in America today shares a similar prison with prisoners as devoid of hope as Billy's friend, Max. The real Midnight Express for Billy begins when he walks against the crowd, to the left.

FAR LEFT: Brad Davis, in his first feature film, stars in "Midnight Express," the powerful story dramatizing Billy Hayes' emotional ordeal and daring escape from a Turkish prison.

TOP: Billy Hayes and his blond Scandinavian cellmate perform Yoga in prison.

BOTTOM: Executive producer Peter Guber (left) with the real Billy Hayes on the film's location in Malta.

TOP. Father meets Son, with head torturer, aided by fierce Turk guards, Jurking in the background. MIDDLE. The torturer. Ironic. The Turks gave the world hash and ass.

BOTTOM. Billy's nightmare arrest. The cinemetographer

The real Midnight Express for the homosexual in America begins when he begins to rely on himself. Like Billy Hayes the defeat of a proposition aimed against him can fool him into believing that release is only days away. B

- J. Trojanski

DRUMMER views the Flicks

PARADISE ALLEY

Lee Canalito, who makes his film debut as Sylvester Stallone's younger brother in Universal's "Paradise Alley," playing a wrestler, has gone back into training. However, he's not training as a wrestler, nor as an actor. He has instead gone back to training as a boxer under a rigorous regime set up for him by Miami's primo trainer of boxing champions, Angelo Dundee.

The 24-year-old Canalito, Dundee's protege, "had four fights so far, three of them televised." According to Dundee, "that's really unusual for a beginner. But it's lucky they were televised.'

Stallone, who is not only the star of "Paradise Alley," but also its writer and director, remembered a fight he had seen some months earlier. That fight featured a handsome young boxer of mammoth proportions: Lee Canalito, who is six feet five and weighs 255 pounds. Stallone contacted Dundee.

Since the professional actor Stallone had originally cast was unable to play the role of Victor Carboni, the actor-writer-director required someone with a massive build, shy demeanor and a certain "family" resemblance to Stallone.

"The minute Stallone called me," recalls Dundee, "I called Lee and told him he was going to be in the movies. The first thing Lee said was 'come on, who's our next opponent?' He just couldn't believe he was going to be in the movies.

Dundee, known to everyone who watches boxing as "the guy in Muhammad Ali's corner" saw something special in Canalito during a Golden Gloves bout, The fact that Canalito had made all-American in his sophomore year as a football player did not impress Dundee.

"Football players don't move right to be moxers," Dundee says. "A lot of them come to me, but I don't take them on. If you're trained at football, that's all you can do. But Lee was an exception. He was great.

In "Paradise Alley," a serio-comic story about three brothers set in New York's Hell's Kitchen circa 1946, Cana-lito wrestles under the name "Kid Salami." Preparing for the film, Canalito soon became aware that he had to use a different set of muscles in the wrestling scenes; different from those he uses when boxing.

"We weren't fooling around," Canalito says, "Everytime you hear me grunting, I am grunting. Not only had I never acted before, I'd never wrestled. I was trembling ."

Terry Funk - a former world champion wrestler who makes his screen debut as Kid Salami's antagonist, Franky the Thumper - worked with Canalito months before shooting began, teaching everything from elementary moves through advanced holds.

"After working with Terry," says Canalito, "I was beginning to be able to take all the blows. All I can say is, it was physical, very physical - particularly when I had to wrestle 40 guys in one day!

"I was truly thrilled to get back in the ring after that." Universal's "Paradise Alley" was written and directed by, and stars, Sylvester Stallone. Produced by John F. Roach and Ronald A. Suppa, with Edward Pressman serving as executive producer, it also stars Kevin Conway, Anne Archer and Joe Spinell, and introduces Armand Assante, Lee Canalito, Aimee Eccles, Terry Funk, Joyce Ingalls, Frank McRae and Tom Waits.

FOLLOW THE LEADER

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DRUMMER 60

OUGH SHIT

STUNTMAN'S GATE BRIDGE LEAP HALTED

Concord strongman Mike Day-ton's well-publicized plan to leap from the Golden Gate Bridge dissolved in a quiet surrender to highway patrolmen on the span the other morning.

He said that he'd be back. The California Highway Patrol said that he had promised officers he would not.

Dayton, a former Mr. America whose 19-inch biceps allow him to break police handcuffs with a shrug, was grabbed by two ser- geants and three patrolmen as he attempted to step out of a friend's car 40 feet south of the bridge's south tower at 11:10 a.m. The CHP and bridge district, along with scores of reporters, had been alerted to the time and place Dayton would attempt his leap.

Dayton was adamant that he Dayton was dudmant that he would – at some unspecified time – return. "I can't sleep nights thinking about that bridge," he said. "I've got to have that bridge," Dayton's promised 212-foot leap was preceded late Tuesday by a briefing for 100 reporters and ad- mirers at Cobb's Bar. The bar - at 2069 Chestnut street - has adopted Dayton. Programs for yesterday's events were distributed and T-shirts honoring the stuntman, the bar and the bridge were available, declaring the wearer to be a member of the "Official recovery team." Yesterday, the bridge pedestrian walkway had been closed at 10 a.m., but camermen were waiting in the parking lot, at Ft. Point and in boats below the bridge as the great moment arrived.

Dayton's car - with Dayton standing up in an open sunroof was picked up by a Highway Patrol car as soon as it moved onto the

The strongman was lectured and then released.

He had worn a reinforced wet suit and his wrists, elbows, knees and abdomen were taped to give him extra protection because he expected to hit the water at about 100 m.p.h.

'The police were very nice to

" Dayton said.

"They handcuffed me until I told them that I would break the cuffs.'

A Highway Patrol spokesman said there was concern that a successful jump would inspire others who were not as physically or mentally prepared as Dayton. There have been 659 known suicides from the bridge; nine persons have survived the leap.

During the entire episode, Roger Grimes, 39, sat in the parking lot with a placard urging the construc- tion of a bridge suicide barrier. He has been demonstrating alone from time to time for two years.

UNPLUGGED

This may be the gay capital of the western world but not everybody is against Prop. 6, you know. Atty. Tom Cockle, no relation, forwards a fighting newsletter called Checkmate, published in Bel- mont by the Pro Family Coalition, which lists all kinds of dandy reasons for voting yes on 6. Its concluding words are especially moving: "Not every city has a Bishop Maloney (like back in St. Paul) or Anita Bryant (in Miami) to stop these types of 'aggressive' sexual deviates. In the meantime, the few parents who have held their 'fingers in the dyke' all these years could sure use a little help."

ASK ANN LANDERS re: MYRA BRECKENRIDGE

TOO OLD TO PLAY DOCTOR?

Dear Ann Landers: I am 31 years old, am married and have two children. Three months ago, I took a job as a doctor's office assistant. Although I was engaged to handle the phone and do book work, I was trained to fill in for the nurse when she is occupied or absent.

Saturday, a 19-year-old boy came in for a physical. I shoed him to the examination room and asked him to undress to the waist. Evi-dentally he misunderstood. When I returned a few minutes later, he was completely nude. My first impulse was to tell him to put on his shorts, but for some reason I didn't. I went ahead and weighed and measured him, took his temperature and blood pressure.

He was somewhat embarrassed, but I enjoyed the situation immensely . The feelings I experienced were indecent, and I am ashamed of myself. Now, the worst — several times this week I have caught myself daydreaming and hoping other young men would misunderstand the instructions.

I am happily married and can't understand what has come over me. Has something gone wrong with my mind? I am upset over this whole thing and any help you can give me would be deeply appreciated.

HARTFORD

Dear Hart: Everyone has fantasies and apparently you are having some delayed adolescent dillies. Accept them as such and stop feeling guilty. R.L. Stevenson once said, "We all have thoughts and desires that would shame hell." No truer words were ever spoken.

WHATAGREATIDEA!

THE SLING SHOT

THE SLING SHOT POSING SUIT lets you expose yourself to best advantage. It's hot. It's new, made of Black Wet-Look cire designed to cover everything that needs covering and expose the rest. Beautifully made in England. S-M-L. State waist size. $16.95

ZIPPER BIKIN

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The Emporium

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PLEASE SEND ME THE FOLLOWING -

(Check / Money Order). I enclose $ _ QUANTITY ITEM SIZE PRICE

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Please add 75c per item for postage & shipping. California residents add 6% tax.

Send me a catalog. Enclosed is $2.

From the manufacturers of the new BOLT, vials!

50% larger available at retail stores averywhere or order by phone or MASTER CHARGE (415) 621 4911 ne with your VISA

PAC WEST MAIL ORDER P.O. BOX 3867-DR SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94119 I certify that I am over 21 [

Copyright @ 1978 by Pacific Western Distributing Corp.

Windy City Wrestling Club

The WINDY CITY WRESTLING CLUB (WCWC) is a newly reorganized club based in Chicago that serves gay wrestlers from all over the Midwest area. Although we are young (reorgnization occurred in June 1978 under acting-President Henry Trout), we have grown in only 3 months from our original Chicago-only members to 55 members from throughout the Midwest and beyond . This growth will enable us to better our services to clubmembers.

Primary services are 1) the WCWC Membership Directory and 2) the bimonthly Newsletter / Update. The WCWC Membership Directory is a full listing of all active WCWC members the Directory is a full listing of all active MCWC me all active WCWC members; the Directory includes each member's name, address, telephone number, height / weight, and a brief description of his preferences in wrestling styles. Every two months, as part of the bi-monthly Newsletter / Up- date, the Membership Directory is up- dated with additions, corrections, deletions , and other changes. This provides each member with an up-to-date listing of all active members and serves as the vehicle through which members may contact one another to arrange matches. Other information contained in the Newsletter includes announcements of meetings (both business meetings and wrestling meets) and other news of club activities.

Membership in the WINDY CITY WRESTLING CLUB is approximately 80% Chicagoans, with members also in MI, IA, IN, OH, TX, GA, CA, etc. The members' interests in wrestling styles range from collegiate / amateur style to "freestyle," from "pro (non-competitive)" to "rough-house no-holds-barred." Every possible weight classification is represented in WCWC membership, with a slightly predominant range of 5'11" – 6'1" / 160 lb – 190 lb.

Services on which the club leadership is currently working to provide include :

Obtaining a permanent 'home' to use for storing / using mats and conduct- ing club business.

2. The sale of T-shirts with the WINDY CITY WRESTLING CLUB logo. (Funds from the sale of T-shirts have been earmarked for the purchase of wrestling mats; the shirts should go on sale on or before 1 November 1978.)

3. Intra-club tournaments to determine club champions in various weight groups.

4. Inter-club tournaments with the New York Wrestling Club (NYWC) and / or any / all other wrestling clubs interested in participating.

Social / fund-raising events (dances, bar nights, etc.).

As a precautionary measure (considering the nature of the sport), all members are strongly advised / urged to obtain personal health / accident insurance if they plan to participate.

Membership dues for the WINDY CITY WRESTLING CLUB are $10.00/ year. This entitles the paying member to the club's basic Membership Directory, the bi-monthly Newsletter / Update, to attend club meetings and matches, and to take advantage of other services as they become available.

Further information: contact Henry Trout, Acting-President WCWC, 18 East Elm, No. 710, Chicago, IL 60611. Telephone 312 / 787-4740 (ext. 6710).

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DEPARTMENT DM 77 P. O. Box 3513 Houston, Texas 77001 Your Order Will Be Shipped Immediately Lg. $10 or Sm. $6 (Plus 50° Handling) Qty. Name Address ı City State Zip Total Enclosed $

PERMANENT SHOWER BIDET! Simple to attach to your shower head, this stainless / aluminum at-tachmnet is there when you want it, out of the way when you don't. Push a button and it's on, push the other and it's off. Complete $33.

THE PLEASURE CHEST 8549 Sta, Monica Blvd./Los Angeles 90069

THE HOT NEW LEATHER MAG from the Thunderbolt M.C. is out and available. All leather with art, photos and fiction and fact that will impress you. $2 a copy and $8 for annual subscription. Published quarterly. Write to: THUNDERBOLT M.C., INC. P O Box 307 Windsor, CT 06095

THE DRUMMER SHOPPER THE

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GAYELLOW Billia

Now there are two editions of Gayellow Pages. The national edition includes listings for the entire U.S. as well as Canada. $5, add $1 for first class.

The quarterly NYC / NJ edition covers New York City, Long Island and New Jersey. Features include bar and cruising notes and a special section, "Women's Gayellow Pages." $2 by mail.

RENAISSANCE HOUSE Box 292, Village Station New York, NY 10014

For anal fans, our set has 7" cord-less vibrator, happy top knubs, internal tickler with vibrator sleeve, 8" digit vibrator extension, marble probe 8½" vibrator extension, medium size butt plug and 2 "C" batteries to make it all work. Only $18.95 plus 10% shipping. Dildo, Leather, Enema and Rubber Catalogs available $2 each.

THE CELLAR 256 S. Robertson Blvd. Beverly Hills, CA 90211

ATHLETIC MODEL GUILD offers you the largest male photography collection anywhere. Copies of PHYSIQUE PICTORIAL and our 8mm films are always available. Send $2 to AMG, 1834 W. 11th St., Los Angeles, CA 90006 for a copy of the magazine and a lot more information.

Pierced Penises Here's a fully illustrated mini-novel , the first photo collection of its kind showing the art of tattooing and piercing. Text by the re- nowned expert Doug Malloy. Only $5. plus 50c postage and handling.

1730 DIVISADERO SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94115

VOCABUMAT LETS YOU LEARN WHILE YOU DINE.

The foreign language placemat that is decorated with self-pronouncing most-used words and phrases in your choice of 25 languages. 11" x 17" plastic laminated. Mix 'em or match 'em, they're only 1.50 each. Sets of 4 or more mats postpaid.

VOCABUMAT PRODUCTS CO. 6513 Hollywood Blvd. No. 209 Los Angeles, CA 90028

RUMMER SHOPPER THE DRI

IT'S A CHRONOGRAPH! IT'S AN ALARM! IT'S A CALENDAR! Almost every possible function you could want in a watch is available For the first time at less than $100.

Beautiful WINDERT quality with Hughes Module. Your choice of White or Gold finish in a durable, fully guaranteed piece of jewelry that runs a year on a tiny battery. What a buy!

WINDERT WATCH COMPANY, INC. 7985 Santa Monica Blvd. No. 212 West Hollywood, CA 90046

THE ARTWORK OF JOE JOHNSON Beautifully reproduced in a portfolio of eight 11" X 17" lithographs ready for framing. Catalogued in N.Y. as a $45 value, the complete set is being closed out at 24.95 plus $1 postage.

THE LEATHER EMPORIUM 1730 Divisadero / San Francisco 94115

THE ADULT TOY STORE Adult Catalog $3.

735 LARKIN STREET 441-7737

TOUGH GUSTOMERS

(VIRGINIA

RICK (CALIFORNIA)

CONRAD (CALIFORNIA)

NOT NECESSARILY THE BOY NEXT DOOR DEPARTMENT, BUT IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO INTRODUCE YOUR-SELF TO OTHER DRUMMER READERS DIG UNDER THE BED AND SEND US SOME HOT SHOTS OF YOURSELF.

DRUMMER WILL PAY TEN BUCKS FOR EACH AND EVERY PHOTO USED. A FEW WELL-CHOSEN WORDS WOULD BE APPRECIATED. THROW YOUR PIC OR POLAROID INTO AN ENVELOPE AND SEND IT TO:

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films magazines toys paperbacks

TOUR OOKS

G&A Books 251 West 42nd Street New York City (North side between 7th & 8th Avenues)

250 Book Center 250 West 42nd Street New York City (South side between 7th & 8th Avenues)

"One of the few New York porn stores you can be seen entering without horrible embarrassment."

"New York's only semi-respectable x-rated bookshop."

—Time Magazine

FROM THE BOOT RACK

BY ARNELL LARSEN

COLORFUL CHARACTERS INTERVIEWED By Arne, Top Commander of the BAS Club

Where does one begin when writing about all those colorful characters wishing to apply for BAS membership? I don't know. I'll simply begin.

There were the romantics . . . the screwballs … the weird … and the sincere. These may be harsh words, and this may be a seeming "lumping together" of human beings who have every right to their point of view. But then, as an ex- clusive fetish club, we too have every right to our own point of view.

Dressed in a certain way, in front of the public library, alone on a deserted street even though early in the evening, you sit waiting for a car to drive up and deposit (you don't know what). You wish it to be a man, sensible, and with sexual dreams very much like your own. Here are only a few outstanding of the many interviews.

Interview A. He was completely leather clad. When I entered his car, a strong scent of perfume overpowered me. Long, polished fingernails were perpetually busying themselves throughout the question / answer period, either flicking nervously to dislodge ever-present cigarette ash or gently caressing a leather jacket sleeve. "What work do you do?" His response: "Well, I run a woman's boutique fashion shoppe. But I want you to know that I'm all man and very sadistic !" A pat at his hair emphasized the point. I sighed, In all fairness, he was entitled to ONE meeting … it was the club members themselves who would decide his fate. Fortunately for him … or us … he never attended that first meeting. I think he may have lost his nerve. Actually , a man's occupation has nothing to do with qualification for BAS membership . As long as he's a man and conducts himself as one. Outside appearances don't often indicate if he's effeminate in bed, or wherever. Some "ribbon clerks" make the best masters. Thus does nature deceive.

Interview B. Downright spooky. He was standing in the dense shadows of the bushes earlier than his appointed time. And when I thought I was alone, he stepped from behind nearby bushes and tapped me on the shoulder. I felt stricken with heart failure. He was soft spoken, had wide shifting eyes, a collar was al- ways up about his neck half hiding his face as though he was always hiding . . frightened of the unseen or maybe frightened of himself. No word from him as of the writing. But members have seen him driving his car with up-turned collar. Hmmm! Perhaps he hides the punctures of a vampire?

Interview C. Very sexy. Exciting. Stood me up on the first interview, then showed up at my studio for his second chance. He wore tall, polished Wellingtons . I were cowboy boots which he greatly admired, pulling my foot up into his lap for close examination. From there we interviewed each other in a fashion, rolled about on the floor in somewhat of a wrestling position during the question and answer game. Naturally he had my recommendations as a groovy, muscular member-to-be. He was my guard during future interviews, waiting in the car while I waited on the sidewalk. He was boxer … and still is.

Interview D. This one was short and pudgy, and underage. We interviewed him at his apartment where he raised hamsters , or was it guinea pigs? The scratching and ripping of paper, not to mention the smell, overwhelmed the presence of any leather. He wasn't quite sure that our club was what he needed. He thought it unnecessary to ask if he was what we wanted.

Interview E. An extremely wealthy oil magnate. He wished to see the club prosper and grow. He attended only one meeting. There were simply not enough members who shared his emotional feeling for metal horseshoe heel plates. Through his careful tutoring I gained expertise on a variety of heel-plate metals. Those that are flat you can buy in shoe repair shops. Those that come from Canada and England are a quarter of an inch high and are nailed atop a leather heel or imbedded into it. Then there are heels that are cut diametrically and one half contains imbedded steel. He enjoyed having mirrors placed strategically around him, and shoes and boots generously present so that the reflections of the heels would break up into many-mirrored facets. Although married to a woman, he kept an apartment and an office out of which he worked and it was there that he maintained nine-tenths of his footwear collection. He procured only the most expensive brand names … never anything cheap. For certain favorite costly footwear he had carved ebony boxes lined with velvet to protect them. They were like miniature caskets. A fascinating personality . He was kind, and extremely generous. And yet, he was also possessed. Possessed in the sense that he heard messages being tapped out to him in the metallic clincking of the heel plates of those persons' footwear as they passed him on the street. I'm sure it was not the shoes themselves but the wearers who were trying to communicate by those sounds. I'm sure he didn't agree.

Interview G. This one was sheer delight . Very Irish, very handsome, very masculine. He claimed in his letter of interview that long had he been a "bootlegger " (meaning that he wore boots, not that he made liquor). He wore cowboy boots, and was extremely nervous. I invited him to the studio where we had a few drinks. He relaxed more when viewing the slides, then whipped out a handful of extremely sexy color prints of himself in boots. Neither of us got anywhere, even though he did handle my boots, but he felt it was too much … too soon (in- cluding the booze) and we let it go at that. He wanted me to photograph his boot collection for the club files and he set up an appointment which he never kept. The second appointment was never kept either so I determined that he must have lost interest in the club. But with his good looks, he'll get along.

Interview H. The strangest figure of them all. He was the Marquis of (something or other). Claimed linneage from Tibet. A high lama of a grandfather noted for his head-chopping talent. My staff officer who accompanied me on this interview can verify this unbelievable story. Out of the car and approaching me came this slender gentleman with a gray goatee and a large silver-headed, menacing walking cane (which very likely contained a sword to be instantly withdrawn and used, should such a fleeting desire occur). The color of the pants stuffed into the boots I have long forgotten. But those boots … never! They were brilliant, day-glo green cowboy boots with silver glitter. They somewhat resembled a cow-girl's riding boots which I'm sure he must have borrowed, for he seemed unaccustomed to walking in them. His eyebrows had been cleanly shaven and repenciled in high, arching shapes. A row of gleaming medals bobbed across the front of his shirt. I introduced him to my fellow officer to whom he must have taken an instant liking because one eyebrow immediately shot upward. He was desirous that the interview be conducted in a certain restaurant where he could refresh us with tea and crumpets. We felt it might be better to conduct the interview within the confines of his car. So he drove around the block to a well-lighted parking place (all the better for us to see him, undoubtedly ) and began to speak of his remarkable oriental, ancestral history and the skill with which he could employ the use of certain poisons and aphrodisiacs. He questioned us about the inner work-

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P.O. Box 548 Monterey, CA 93940 Calif. add 6% tax & must state 21 ings of our club, seemingly visualizing his utterances with abundant hand-fluttering and peculiar finger movement. Long finger nails an inch or more in length were exceeded in their ability to capture our attention only by his huge ceremonial rings. At times we bit our lips to keep from laughing, he was so amusing (and perhaps meant to be so). His medals were so large and heavy they were tearing his shirt. Taking no notice of the damage they were causing, he hastened to explain their hidden meanings. The BAS Club was totally fascinating to him, as was he to us. But before he could draw any conclusions (for he had never heard of anything like it before in his life) he insisted on seeing a segment of the slides taken at a previous meeting. This he arranged to be accomplished at the home of a muscular German friend. A few nights later, at a continuation of the interview, he wore silver pointed-toe boots. Needless to say, he was not accepted. Possibly he did not even wish to be. Nor did our host for the evening (who was much more sexually inclined) apparently wish to be accepted.

Interview I, J, and K. On and on they go. Space does not allow more for me to recall. But my staff officers had two extraordinary interviews of their own to relate.

The first one was a very handsome, very masculine stud, possibly a war veteran . I don't remember exactly what they said. He dug the boot scene, but desired us … implored us … to give him the one final sexual epitome of his life. Upon learning of it, we were (saddened?) to inform him, there was no way possible. He begged, he offered us money, he was 'deadly' serious. What did he want? To be taken to a deserted place, become sexually aroused, and at the moment of climax and before ejaculation, one of us was to produce a revolver and shoot him through the head. The ultimate glorious sex scene before leaving this earth.

The second interview was a tall, willowy , very talented young man, an ac- complished professional violinist. How effectively the boot club could help him materialize his most cherished desire we never cared to find out. For he wished that agter giving us a recital, we would stake him out on the desert for a weekend , his violin propped up beside him where he could stare at it during his agony (could it be he truly felt his performance would warrant so cruel a re-

Is the masochistic ideal for self-destruction so very strong as that? I could see these as fantasy trips. But these in- these individuals considered us the last stronghold of sadists … which we are not.

One important benefit we have derived from the BAS Club concerning our way of sex: "We enjoy making love to a guy's boots. The smell, the feel of a man's leathered foot gives us what we crave and need." And up goes our chins as we now say, "So what!"

Most of us never had the guts to say that before.

For all those who have sent inquiries about me personally and the BAS Club: I am white, part Norwegian and part Navajo, with blond hair, and blue eyes. I play at both S / M roles in privacy, weigh 132 lbs., 44 years (and much too old according to some club members), 5'11' wear size 8 shoes or boots. I'm an author (buy your Drummer magazine) and western artist - cowboy scenes and Indian still lifes, with a few boot paintings thrown in as well. Write for any further info with your phone number and a photo. Phone calls bring faster responses because secretary's slow and highly sexed, so sexy letters cause interruptions and sticky keys.

Arnell Larsen P.O. Box 70 / La Canada, CA 91011

THE EUROPEAN (B&L) BIKE CLUB A Contribution by a BAS Club Member

Here is a brief dissertation relative to the European Bike Club (B&L). For obvious reasons, specifics had to be omitted (i.e., names and locations). As indicated, membership is carefully controlled and participation as a guest requires a multiplicity of clearances. The presence of my H-D Electraglide in Saltzburg was the introductory element as they are thrilled by the size and displacement of the Milwaukee beast. A parting gift was a pair of the club breeches and boots which are virtually irreplaceable. The grandeur of the clubhouse and its ritualistic environment as presented is virtually beyond description, so what has been written is but a digest of events. Allow the imagina- tion to soar and it wlll but touch lightly the orgasmic capabilities one achieves in such a rustic surrounding coupled with the pleasures derived in the midst of booted and leather-encased studs in attendance . A never-to-be-forgotten series of experiences.

Fundamentally it's a motorcycle club with a very limited, select membership. All are attuned to the unique appreciation of boots demonstrated daily in their wearing as MP's, polezei, and construction. Meetings are held bi-monthly in an old converted fieldstone farmhouse situated on the outskirts of a remote Austrian alpine village. A dominating sense of privacy and scenic splendor prevails. The tranquility is broken only by the and sound of gathering motorcycles regained with the retreat of booted feet into the structure. The large, heavy-beamed central living room is flanked on the right by bedrooms and a spacious locker room. On the left is a kitchen, utility, and a second locker room. Upon completion of the club business formali-ties , the members withdraw to the left or right rooms dependant on the desired role for ensuing activities. Those who exit on the right enter a spacious locker room on whose walls are a series of pegs. From each peg hangs an array of leather gear consisting of shirts, jackets, breeches, j-straps, and hooded masks arranged according to size. On a low shelf below rest a variety of highly polished boots ranging

manic tradition. The aroma of leather and boots lay heavy, permeating every corner of the room. The ritualistic transformation begins as members disrobe from riding attire, struggle into favored leather combinations, don chosen boots and emerge as black leather studs. Full arousal is assured either by self-manipulation or the now-willing caresses of horney companions. Despite identities obscured by the donned leather masks, the hardened protrusions encapsulated by the tailored breeches is as a hallmark within the stretched skin. Adornment complete, the participants file into the main room to stand abreast. Full erections signify readiness for ensuing events. Those who retired left also emerge and align themselves on the opposite side of the room. Barren of attire except for leather jockstraps and low cut boots, they stand waiting for cue. The leathered lines advance across the room, each stud centering his attentions on a chosen participant who's reaction is simply demonstrated by swollen jocks hard pressed by rising rods. The epitome of sexuality is reached, be it by boot, leather, sucking, fucking, either paired or group. Mutual concealment behind masks only serves to heighten ejaculatory capability as inbred inhibitions are forsaken by the modest cloak of obscurity. Satiation of sexual fantasy is achieved by the heavy aroma of hot leather, creaking boots, undulating fervor, and the final spurting release of the gloriously satisfied participants.

The members return to the dressing quarters to revert to street attire and to be absorbed into the realm of the work-a- day world. Lingering memory of transpired events and anticipation of the next meeting brings subtle rise and a glimmer of pleasure which makes routines of daily demands tolerable.

PAGES FROM A BOOTIST'S DIARY

It was a couple of summers ago that it happened. At night, in the city park. The airman was in the men's room, in full uniform with his pants bloused over his polished boots … and he was very, very drunk.

He was the only one there, fortunately, so I took the stall next to his and placed my hand on the floor under the partition, next to his boot. He gave my hand a slight kick away, so I withdrew and decided he really didn't want to play

"I want to fuck those boots," I answered. "You weird-o!" he replied.

Later he staggered out and found me sitting on a dark park bench, feeling (and looking) miserable.

He recognized me at once, so I assumed that he was sobering up.

"How much money ya got?

I remembered what he had called me, so I answered, "A couple of bucks."

"You want my boots, and I need another bottle. So here!" He sat on the table part of the bench and shoved his booted foot up into my chest … I was sitting below him on the bench. "Kiss my boot, fella, kiss it. That's a man's boot,

Naturally I fell on that boot like a dog on a bone.

"Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute. You're wrecking my shine, ya fuckin' kook!" He pulled the boot away, and let go with a wad of spit. Then he ground the sole of his boot into it … then held his foot out to me. "Here, lick my boot sole, lick my spit, you piece of dirt!" Well, this was new to me, but since he was young and goodlooking I bent over eagerly, not caring (in my excitement) if he were to hit me over the head. My cock had a mind of its own, however, and it shot a load of cum before I could even get it out of my pants. I think I mumbled something, thrust $3 into his hand, and beat a hasty retreat, doubly thrilled (and yet disgusted with myself for shooting that load in my pants … and having had to pay for it besides). Yet I knew I would gladly pay for the experience again if the chance arose.

I don't know where I went that evening , but four or five hours later I came back to the same park, possibly hoping to re-live the thrill of that experience. I was fired up again.

Naturally he wasn't on that same bench. But I heard a soft snore from the bushes close by, and as if by some chance of unbelievable luck, there he was, passed out with a half-filled bottle near him.

I was trembling, and I needed courage. I took a healthy pull from his bottle, knowing he wouldn't mind.

Then I laid down by his feet, there in the bushes, and started to reach for his boots. I gently brushed the dirt from them, and noticed the shine was just about gone. I think it was then that I made up my mind that those boots were about to be mine.

I cautiously undid the wire that held the pants tightly about the top of his boots from inside. He kept trying to cross his legs over, and I would carefully keep them separated. His pants were getting soiled, but I didn't worry about that. The boots had ladder-lacing, which made them twice as difficult to remove. My cock was throbbing like crazy. I got one warm boot off his foot, and crushed it to my face, smelling his warm, sweaty foot-smell … meanwhile yanking my cock out of my pants. I worked fast on his other boot, and got it off just as he shoved his smelly stocking foot in my face and those warm, leather boots in my hands.

"I'm sorry I'm keeping these boots, fella," I thought. But to even things up a bit, and soothe my guilty conscience, I took a $10 bill from my wallet. I had gotten it for my birthday. Anyway, I buttoned the money into his back pocket , with the hope that he would quickly find it. I could have lifted his wallet if I were so inclined, but I had my treasures. And, in a sense, I had paid for them. I kissed his boots all the way home as I drove along in the car. And I have jacked off every time since, whenever I looked at them, or wore them.

So, he went back to the base without his boots, but I think he probably knew that it was I who had taken them.

That park was generally crowded and busy. But that night, it was reserved for me!

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GARNIVAL 78

SEAMAN'S SEMEN'S END

Everything must change. Nothing, not even the California Motorcycle Club (CMC) Carnival stays the same. So give us an O!! Give us a VAY! Gone are the CMC's of yesterday!

This season's bash at San Francisco's Seaman's Hall

Seaman's Hall was the last ever in that sanctified location. And the change of place will inevitably change everything. Remember how London Bridge changed when moved to the U.S. southwest? Unphilipable, Remember, bow Wor when intoved to the U.S. southwest? Un- believable! Remember how you changed when you moved your ass out of your cedar-lined closet in whatever Cedar Rapids or Cedar Falls? Even more un- believable!

NO MORE MR. CMC? The CMC Carnival, like every good show, must go on. After all, some events become institutions that resonate with an importance beyond themselves. Think of the Super Bowl. Think of the Academy Awards. Some must go, but the show must go on.

CONTINUED ON NEXT PAGE

'78

So where? Seaman’s two floors of wall-to-wall wet, leathered bodies was the perfect ritual ground. The Cow Palace next? Too big — unless we either start to propagate or start to recruit. Somewhere there’s a place for us.

Meanwhile, just keep clapping your hands and believing so Mr. CMC will continue to live.

In one wild aberation, several carnivals ago, one inventive booth <math>-a</math> bit off the CMC ordinary <math>-</math> offered a willing ass propped up and ready to go (for charity, remember) at 50c per fist. Now, <math>THAT'S</math> entertainment !

Some CMC-ers may blush to remember, but any group upfront enough to sponsor what turned from a simple beer bust into one of the world's wildest standup encounter groups, not only can't be bad at all, but must make sure the

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