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Good news travels fast. I was sitting in Drummaster in San Francisco having a beer when I heard about the opening of a new kink place in New York called The Hell Fire Club. Not that I might consider traveling 3000 miles for a hot fuck, mind you; but I was going to the big apple the next week anyway — and perhaps Hell Fire could help t turn a routine sleeze vacation into something worth writing home about. The only other news about Hell Fire was that it was co-sexual. Men and women. Straight and gay. And that it was hot, hot, hot.

The dude who had broke the news to me about Hell Fire in the first place just nodded at my surprised look when he said "co-sexual." "It's the next step, man. It's beyond gay." Then he launched into a series of descriptions of various scenes he'd gotten into there that were, if anything, slightly beyond belief. My curiosity was raised. I knew I

The Hell Fire Club is located below street level in the old Triangle Building at Ninth and 14th Streets in the Far West Village. The equally old Triangle Bar on the first floor has been replaced by Jr's, and the top floor has been taken over by a new private club, Wal- ley's Attic.

Hell Fire is open three nights a week: Wednesday, Friday and Saturday from 10pm until. The Club has a large play-room filled with stocks, manacles, special invention machines, and a bar. In the middle of the room a small stage dominates and showcases specific acts for the edification of anyone and everyone . Some tables and chairs line one wall. Another section of the Club is a room of cubicles and small private areas. Yet another room holds toilets and bathrubs.

THE SEWERS OF NEW YORK

I had been told the crowd would be mixed and friendly. It was both, an almost 50-50 split between gay men in leather and uniforms mingling with non-gay men and women in a variety of gay men and women in a variety of clothes and gear. There was an edge of sexual tension between the gay and non-gay men that added tremendously to the already highly-charged sexual atmosphere. But always there was a founda atmosphere. But always there was a foundation of friendliness and honesty. A straight couple: He's a big man, well over six feet tall, his hands cuffed behind his back, his mouth gagged with a horse bit. He's dressed, from ings, like Upper East Side elite slum- ming with the riff-raff; until later when she can be found kneeling on the concrete floors, her stockings wet with sex

THE SEWERS OF NEW YORK

juices, sucking off a flasher, his raincoat held open by a large paunch, naked except for his argyle socks and wing-tip shoes.

In the large toilet room two men, with sweaty muscled bodies, take turns pissing into each others' mouths. One pushes the other down on the floor, pissing on his face and chest while a beautiful young woman with new wave orange hair spreads her legs to join them. The guy on the bottom resists her attempts to piss on his face, but his friend forces him back down and he sucumbs with a moan. Afterward he verbally thanks her for fulfilling this secret fantasy of his - something he admits he has never been able to carry out before.

In another room two men dressed in leather are jerking off while a small crowd of both sexes watch. A woman crawls on the floor towards them and begins licking their balls, first one man then the other.

Two women dressed in leather are whipping a man's ass. He is lying on his stomach, his face buried in the crotch of a third woman. A riding crop is shoved in his ass, and the crowd taunts him not to drop it. But a couple well-aimed blows from the whip and it falls out. Someone declares, "He's really going to get it now." The women in- crease the intensity of their lashes across his naked ass, chanting promises of worse punishments to come. He comes in a pitched yell that is muffled by the mouthfull of crotch under his eagerly working lips and tongue.

Two leathermen manacle a guy's wrists to an overhead beam. They begin to whip his ass and back. Women dressed in leather stand by and take turns administering whips and riding crops. One of the women grabs his bare ass cheeks and digs in with her long fingernails. The lashing builds until a heavy blow sends him screaming, his body twisting and jerking under the beam. The two men grab him and begin offering smoothing words and car-resses , subduing him with croons of affection . Then the lashing begins again, and again builds to a stunning level that again sends him reeling.

A young non-gay man with a highly-A young non-gay man with a nignty-defined and muscular body, his head and upper body shaved of all hair, slowly rubs the stubble on his head against the bare back and ass of a young woman. She leans forward over a wooden s crowd forms to watch the scene. crowd forms to watch the scene.

Some young straight men, mostly in sneakers and slacks, probably from New Jersey, stand and gawk — their eyes wide and their mouths salivating. I turn to my friend, who has brought me to th

Someone standing next to us adds, "They'll be back next week wearing leather chaps."

- Roy Armstrong

THE SEWERS OF NEW YORK

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have that number. But it ain't in the book, either! I consider calling the highway patrol, but then I can just imagine what they will think when they see me in my gear. I'm looking around for the phone book (there isn't one), when I spot this message written on the wall. It's scratched into the metal, actually, with a pen knife or something, and it says:

Sometimes it can be hard to meet new people when you're new in town. Know what I mean? So for the first few weeks after I moved to a city which was nearly halfway across the country from where I used to live, I was a little lonely. And horny, too! But making new friends is usually no problem for me. I don't like blowing my own horn, you understand. But I consider myself one of the best topmen in the business. And when you're hot, you're hot. No apologies necessary. So it didn't take me too long to make a few interesting contacts in the local leather/denim bar.

CALL BIG AL'S TOWING AND SERVICE HE DOES A GOOD JOB!

Why not? I think to myself. There's this number. It's worth a try. I sure as hell don't feel like walking all the way into town. So I dial the number and let it ring a long time. Just as I'm about to hang up and call the operator, someone picks up the line. A deep, burly voice barks in my ear.

But I gotta tell you something that happened to me when I had only been in my new home for a couple of weeks. I made a date with this hot M from the bar - a big blond number with a marine tattoo on his ass - and I'm driving the twenty-or-so miles into town to meet him when my goddam car breaks down. It's late - already past eleven - and there aren't any other cars on the highway. Not many, anyway. And there I am in my full leather gear: jacket, cap, chaps and jeans, black boots with chins. It's no wonder that no one stops to offer me help. I'm just standing there getting mighty pissed at myself when I remember this gas station about a half-mile back down the road. So I take a hike.

"Yeah, whaddya want?"<br>I'm a little surprised. "Uh … I'm broke down," I say. "I mean, my car's broke down. Could you give me a tow job?"

"Where are ya?"

"Out on route 56. About a half-mile past the gas station heading toward town. Look, I know it's late, but I really

"Git back to yer car," the voice on the other end of the line grumbles. "I'll meet ya there. What kind is it?"

"Git back to yer car," the voice on the other end of the line grumbles. "I'll meet ya there. What kind is it?"

I give him a description, and he hangs up. Just like that. I walk back to my car, fantasizing all the way about that voice on the phone. It sure had a nice sound to it. I try to picture what this guy might look like. With a name

When I get there, the place is closed. Just my luck. But I spot a telephone booth on one side, fish a dime out of my pocket, and get in. I'm not sure who I'm gonna call. I don't know anybody except the blond at the bar, and I don't

like "Big Al," it could be interesting. And somebody had thought enough about him to give him some free adver-

tising.

I'm not back at my car very long before I see these head-<br>lights coming down the road. They pull off the side be-<br>hind me and I see that it's the tower. I can't make things out too good with the lights in my eyes, but I see this big hulk of a dude climb down out of the cab and walk towards nulk of a dude climb down out of the cab and walk towards me. When he gets up close, I nearly keel over. He's big, all right. Well over six feet, with a build like a Mac Truck. He's got short black hair and beard, a mean b

He walks up to me real quick and gives me and my car<br>the once over. I don't feel like explaining the way I'm dres-

So I help myself.

sed, so I don't say nothing. "You the guy that called me?" he asks. "Yeah. Something's wrong with my car." Al just grunts. "Well, let's git 'er down to my shop. It ain't far. I'll have a look there."

Without another word, he goes to work. I watch with great interest as he straps the back of my car up on the tower. When everythin's all set, he motions for me to get<br>in the cab. I do, and we drive off back the way he'd come. He doesn't say nothing for awhile. Then he looks over at me and frowns.

"What in the hell are ya dressed like that for?" "Well," I lie, "I'm going to this party, see … " "Must be a damn weird party!"

"Yeah. I hope so, anyway." I grin.

He doesn't say any more, and I can't really tell what he's thinking. After a few minutes, we turn off the main drag<br>and head down a dirt road. A mile or so further, he pulls<br>into a small garage — sort of an old filling station what's been turned into a car shop. There aren't any other buildings around, or people either. Al pulls the tower and my

car up to the front where there's a spot-light shining in the dark. We get out.

"Go on inside," he says to me. "Make yerself comfortable. I'll have a look at your car. There's some beer in the 'fridge if you're thirsty."

I thank him and head on in. I'm beginning to think that this little stop-over might not turn out to be so bad after all. Understand? That blond at the bar might just have to wait.

Inside the garage, off to one side of the grease pit, is this small room with a cot, TV, and mini-fridge. It looks to me like this guy lives here, which would explain why he's<br>here so late. I open the fridge and see nothing but beer.

I can hear him banging around outside, and I'm not interested in the TV, so I snoop a little. Under the cot I find some magazines: sports, motorcycles, auto-mechanics — that sort of stuff. Near the bottom of the pile are some muscle magazines, the kind with all those hunks in bikinis strutting their stuff. A regular parade of beefcake! Well, now. I think to myself, this is getting interesting. I leaf through a few of them, and I swear that some of the pages were stuck together. Get the picture? Then, on the very bottom of the pile—eureka! A fuck book. I open it guickly and see two big dudes, all naked with the biggest fucking hard-ons you can imagine. They're just standing there flexing, and holding each other's balls in their fists. On the next page, one has his hard dick down the other guy's

way I play the game."

throat.

I sit down on the cot and look through the rest of the mag, real slow. The action is getting hotter and hotter, and I'm getting hornier by the minute. I get to the back page where there's this real close up shot of one of the guys shooting his big, juicy wad in his buddy's face when I realize that I'm no longer alone. Big Al has come in, and he's leaning against the door frame, wiping his huge fists with a greasy rag.

hard enough to make me understand that I'd be a fool to<br>try to fight my way out of there.

He doesn't say anything about me looking at the magazine . He sticks the rag in his hip pocket and stalks over to<br>the fridge. While he's getting himself a beer, I quietly put

the magazine back under the cot. "Your fan belt was busted," he says.

I stand up. "Thanks. Sorry I called you so late, but …"

"What's yer hurry. Here, have another beer."<br>The big man hands me another. He downs his in almost one gulp, then takes a second. I just stand there drinking

my beer while he sits down on the cot. "Now," he says, "about paying me." I hadn't even thought of that. My mind had been oc-

cupied with other things. "Well, I don't have much cash on me," I say. "I wasn't

really planning on this. But I've got plenty of charge cards." "Don't take no charge cards," Al growls. He just stares at me, and I begin to get a little edgy.

Just what kind of game is this guy playing, anyway? We look at each other for a few minutes. I can feel his black eyes running up and down my body. But he doesn' say nothing.

"So what do you think I ought to do?" I ask.

Big Al grins. It wasn't a friendly grin. "I think ya better

take those goddam clothes off real quick like." "Hey, wait a minute, fella," I protest. "This isn't the

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Al puts his beer bottle on the floor and stands up facing me. He's between me and the door.

"I said get yer ass outta them clothes. Now!"

Before I can say another thing, one of his huge fists lands square in my belly. He didn't hit me too hard, but hard enough to make me understand that I'd be a fool to<br>try to fight my way out of there.

Well, I always say that a good topman can learn a new<br>thing or two once in a while. Seeing that there was not much choice, I slowly began undoing my belt and chaps. Al stands there with his fists clenched by his sides. I take off my leather and pile it neatly on the floor. Then I undo my jeans and slide them off, too. Al's eyes never leave my body for a second. When I'm stark-assed naked, he sits back down on the cot. I've got a good body, not like his, but damn good. I can tell he likes what he sees.

"That's more like it, pal," he says. "I'm sure we can work something out. Git in that closet and bring me the sack." He points to the other side of the room.

I go fetch the bag from the closet. It's a black sack, and it's heavy. I can hear metal clinking around as I carry it back to him. I hand it to the burly mechanic and resume

my place in the middle of the floor.

"That's right," he says. "You just stay put. We got some toys here I think you're gonna like."

He fumbles around in the bag, pulling some things out and putting them beside him on the cot. I see a metal ring clamp, the kind mechanics use to fasten rubber hoses on engines. Then there's some leather straps with spring clips that look like wrist and ankle restraints. Finally, he pulls out a short piece of chain with two more spring clips on each end. He grabs all the leather straps and stands up.

I stand perfectly still while he fastens two of the leather.

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straps tight around my ankles and connects them together with a double clip. I can't spread my feet any wider than about a foot. He puts two more around my wrists and, pulling my arms around behind me, he fastens them together , too. With my arms bound behind me, I can't resist

as he picks up the ring clamp and twirls it on his finger. "Guess where this goes," he leers.

I can guess. Al reaches out and grabs my cock and balls in his rough hands. I feel my stomach twitch a little as the hard skin of his palm rubs and squeezes my dick. He slips that clamp around the base of my cock and pulls my balls through, too. Then he tightens the wing nut until the metal ring begins to bite into the soft flesh under my ball sac. My cock is standing up like a flagpole, all red and hard. Al bats it back and forth a few times with his hand and I start to shake with excitement.

After he's satisfied that my cock is hard enough, he snatches up the short chain with the spring clips and

starts pinching my tits. "Yeah, man," he says, staring into my eyes. "Let's put

He pinches them harder, and I wince a little from the pain. He has my left nipple between his thumbnail and forefinger , painfully tweaking and twisting it until beads of sweat roll down my forehead. Suddenly he snaps one end

hollers, and hits me again.

of the chain onto the tenderized flesh. I moan out loud for the first time. I've had tit clamps on before, but never ones so heavy. Hard steel bites into me, pulling my tit toward the floor and sending my head

reeling.

"You can take it, asshole!" Al barks. He does the same to my right nipple, and when he's got them both weighted down with the clips, he takes ahold of the chain between them and pulls up. He's pulling real hard, too, making me rise up on my toes. My legs are shaking, and I grit my teeth in pain. I try to free my hands so that I can pull the

cut it out.

"I'll kneel down.

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fuckers off, but I know it's hopeless. Al grins at my desperate attempts. He jerks on that chain and gets a big kick out

of seeing me jump in response to his tit torture. "Now, asshole," he orders. "Down on yer knees!" I don't do it. There are some things he's going to have to

get used ot. And one is that I don't kneel down for nobody .

"I said down on yer knees!"

Al drops the tit chain and punches me in the stomach again, harder this time. I catch my breath and stare him

I can tell he's real mad, now. Al goes over to my clothes and picks up my belt. It's my studded one, the black leather job with the silver pyramid study that I'm so proud of. That strap has seen a lot of asses in its time, and I quickly

guess that it's about to see one more.

"Alright, asshole," hte big mechanic growls. "Down on yer knees. Now!"

He swings that strap and catches me clean across the butt. It stings like hell. I try to move away from it, but with my feet fettered like that I nearly lose my balance. He hits me again. I suck in the air between my teeth but stand

firm. "Do it, man, or you won't sit down for a week." Al

I have to admit, that big dude is mighty persuasive. He keeps on whipping my striped ass with the belt, hitting harder each time. The room echoes with the sound of leather slapping ass. I feel the tears begin to form in my eyes, and my backside is on fire. I finally decide I'd rather

do what he says then to let him see my crying. "All right, all right!" I yell out loud. "I'll do it. Now

He lays that strap into me again. "You'll do what, asshole?"

I swallow hard. "Yes, at your feet."

"Who you talkin' to, boy?" Al whips my ass again. I know that sooner or later I got to say it. "To you. Sir.!" Il kneel down at your feet … Sir."

The belt hit the floor. I slowly lowered myself to the cement. It's cold and rough on my knees, but at least my butt is beginning to cool off. I can't believe that my dick is still poking up in the air like that, but then that damn clamp is real tight. I suddenly feel a bad need to come. Al walks around in front of me, retrieves his beer, and downs it all at once. Then he looks down at me at his

feet. "That's better, asshole. You just be a good boy, and maybe I'll let you go … later. But first, we're gonna have a

I don't say a thing. "I said, Okay?" Al grabs my hair and pulls my head back until I'm staring up into his hard, bearded face.

Al puts his empty bottle on the floor in front of me and slowly begins to strip. He unsnaps the straps of his overalls and lets them fall. The top drops to his waist, and I finally get to see that magnificent chest in all its glory.<br>He's a weight-lifter himself, I can tell. He's as good as any<br>of those dudes in the muscle magazines. His big rock hard pecs, rippled stomach and tight waist took a lot of work. Then he undoes his zipper, opens his pants, and lets them fall to his ankles. Yep, he's got a gorgeous body. Heavy, muscular legs support his big frame, and all over from head to foot he's covered with tight black fur. A big, fat uncut pecker swings between those massive thighs, and two furry balls hang down below. I have to admit that he is one damn fine-looking dude.

Al steps out of the overalls and kicks them aside, leaving on only his work boots and dirty wool socks. He starts playing with that monster prick of his, pulling the foreskin back and forth over the oozing cockhead. I watch hungrily as he pushes his hips forward slightly, swinging his sweaty

piece of meat near my face. When he sees that I like what he's got, he moves forward a step and rubs the tip of it

over my face and across my lips. "You want it, boy?" he asks. "You want t'eat this big

prick of mine?" "Yes, sir."

"How bad d'ya want it, boy?"

"I want it real bad, sir. Please let me eat your cock."

I can't believe myself. I'm actually starting to like this game. A whole lot! I haven't been on this end of the stick, so to speak, for a long time. But if you'd have seen him standing there in all his brute nakedness, you'd understand . Yes sir!

"Okay, asshole," Al laughs, "you'll get to eat it. But first you gotta earn it."

He puts one foot on my chest, and with his heavy work boot he pushes me down to the floor on my back. He's standing over me, and from that point of view he looks even more massive. A real bull-stud! Suddenly a booted foot lands square on my face, bending my nose to one side.

"Lick it, boy," Al demands.

I stick my tongue out and run it over the dirty ribbed sole of his boot. It tastes like dirt and grease, but I do my best. He has me lick 'em both, and when he's satisfied that I've done a good job, he backs off and stands beside me. My face is covered with greasy dirt, and there's this

it!"

big footprint in the middle of my chest.

The empty beer bottle is still there on the floor beside me. Al steps back a little, then gives that fucker of his a little jiggle, and the foreskin parts with a gushing stream of yellow piss. He aims for the bottle. He's a pretty good shot, too, but even so piss splashes all over the place and makes a stinking puddle on the cement floor. He pisses a long time, and by the time he fills the bottle to the top, a lot of it has splashed on my chest and face. When the stream of piss slacks off, he shakes his prick to get out the last few drops,<br>then sits back down on the edge of the cot. Spreading his legs wide so his dick hangs down over the edge of the mat-

tress, he points to the bottle of piss. "Get up, asshole," he says. "Up on yer knees and bring me that bottle of piss."

struggle to my knees, trying not to fall over in the puddle on the floor, but I'm not sure how I'm going to do

what he wants with my hands strapped behind me. "I said bring it here, boy!" Al growls. "But, sir, my hands are tied." He grins. "Yeah, I forgot. So bring it here with yer mouth"

mouth.

Okay. I get the picture. I bend over, being careful to keep my balance, and stretch my face down to the floor. I wrap my lips around the wet neck of the bottle. I can smell the sweet stench of piss on the floor, and a little of the stuff in the bottle spills over my tongue. It smelled and tasted great — real warm and funky, and faintly tainted with beer. Picking it up with my teeth, I shuffle across the rough floor on my knees and place myself between his

legs. "That's a good boy," he says, patting me on the head. "Now give it here."

I tilt my head back in order to offer him the bottle. A big mouthful of piss dumps in my mouth. I swallow it as

he snatches the bottle away from me. "Did I tell ya you could drink it?" he snaps. His open

palm smacks against my cheek. My face stings.

'No, sir.'

"That's right, asshole. You know what this is?"

"It's your piss, sir."

"Yeah, you asshole. It's my piss. My piss. And what makes you think you're good enough to drink my piss?'

don't say anything. I just watch as he lifts that bottle to his own mouth and takes a big gulp. He swallows it and smacks his lips.

"Damn," he snorts. "That's good stuff, boy. You want

some?"

"Tell me what you want, asshole." "I want to drink your piss, sir.

Al takes another big gulp from the bottle. "Bottled piss is too good for you, boy," he grins. He keeps drinking the piss with obvious delight. His prick stands out at me from between his legs and he fondles it and his big balls<br>too while he finishes off the whole thing. Draining it to the bottom, he sets the bottle on the floor and burps real loud.

"Yeah," he says. "Good stuff, boy. Now it's your turn.

He jiggles his semi-hard meat at me. I inch forward until I can take the top half of it in my mouth. It's fat and wet, and the whole of it nearly stretches my lips to the limit. Watching him down that bottle of his own piss has made me hornier than hell. I wanted more of what I had tasted. He held my head firmly between his huge hands and lets me lean forward until most of his cock is in my mouth. I can feel a few drops ooze from the slit in my mouth, then without warning the fleshy tube erupts with a gush.

I gag at first as the torrent of warm piss flows from that cock and splashes against the back of my throat. It comes too fast, backing up my nose and dribbling out the sides of my mouth and down my chin. I instinctively try to pull back, but Al holds my head firmly in place.

You said you wanted it, asshole," he barks. "So drink

I'm swallowing as fast as I can. I can feel my belly fill up with his piss as he continues to pour it down my throat. My chest and crotch were soaking wet. Just when I think I can't take anymore, he pulls that hose out of my mouth and squirts the last of it in my face.

"There, that's what you wanted, wasn't it boy?" "Yes, sir," I say, still tasting the delicious piss in my

more.

need to come real bad.

Al leans back on the cot and raises his legs so that his work boots are perched on the metal frame. He rests on one elbow and spreads his beefy thighs. That big prick,

one elbow and spreads his beefy thighs. That big prick,

still dripping piss, sticks out towards me. And below, be-<br>neath the sweaty, piss-soaked balls, is his asshole.<br>"Come here, asshole," he orders. "Put that ugly face of<br>yours up my ass and lick it out."

Al reaches down and lifts his prick in his fist. He starts to jerk it off real slow, making his nuts bob up and down with each stroke. I lean forward and stick my nose in the dark, musky crack between his hard-muscled ass cheeks. It smells real funky, like he hasn't showered for a week. I can hear him moan, low animal sounds, as I stick out my tongue and run the tip of it around the puckered flesh of his hole. His balls are bouncing against my forehead and a

mixture of sweat and piss drips down into my eyes. "That's it," he says. "Stick that ass-licker of yers up my hole and rim it good!"

I obey eagerly. I feel the warm, moist flesh of his asshole part before my probing tongue. Al spreads his legs wider<br>and continues to pull his meat. With his free hand he<br>reaches down and shoves my head further up his ass.

"Lick it, boy," he says, panting heavily. "Eat my asshole. Eat it, boy!"

Al pounds away at his dick now like there's no stopping . I feel his body tighten as my tongue wiggles deeper<br>and deeper into his gut. I can taste the sweat and piss in<br>his crotch, and there's also the dank, musky aroma of shit. His hole closes tight around my mouth. I twist my tongue up in there, wanting to show him that there are some things I know how to do right. He's grunting and groaning with pleasure.

"Hey, boy," he says, pulling my head from his ass by my hair. "Wanna see me come?"

"Yes, sir, I want to see you come."

Al points his massive stick at my face. "Do you want to eat it?" he leers.

"Yes, sir. Please let me eat your come, sir."

Al reaches under my chin and lifts my face up higher.

"Then watch this, asshole. Here comes yer dinner!

The tip of his cock is just inches from my face. It looms over me, the big purple veins sticking out from the sides of<br>the hard shaft. The slippery cockhead pops in and out as he strokes it faster and faster. Suddenly he squeezes my cheeks.

"Open wide, boy," he says. I do. He's got my face in a vice grip between his strong fingers. I stare in fascination as that big prick points right at my mouth. It's dripping pre-cum juice in long, slimy strings which dribble down to the floor. I stick out my tongue to catch some of the sweet fluid. Al gives out a loud animal grunt and shoots a thick wad of jism right down my throat.

The thick tube on the underside of his cock quivers as jet after jet of hot cream erupts from the tip and covers my teeth and tongue. Most of it goes in my mouth, but a couple of squirts hit me in the face and dribble down my chin. He keeps on cuming for what seems like forever. His cock is jumping and sliding in his fist, covered with his own cum, and that just seems to make him shoot some

When he's finally emptied his balls down my throat, I sit back on my heels and revel in the delicious taste of his<br>sperm. The last few gobs slide down my throat to mix<br>with the piss and cum in my belly. My own cock throbs for release, and I feel that if he just so much as touched it I

would shoot my wad all over the room. "Lick it up, asshole," Al demands, pointing to where some of his jism had splashed onto his work boots. I clean the leather tops real good with my tongue, digging around in the cracks to get every last drop of his funky fluid. I

The burly mechanic stands up, his dick all swollen and slick with jism. He reaches down and grabs the chain between my tits, hauling me to my feet.

'Okay, asshole, time to go for a little ride," he says.

"A ride? Where to, sir?"

"None of yer goddam business, punk."

Al searches through the sack of toys and pulls out a leather hood. It has holes for the eyes and mouth, and these can be shut with sippers. I stand still while he pulls the hood down over my head and ties it in the back. The heady aroma of warm leather fills my nostrils, making me even hornier. The mouth slit is zippered shut, but he leaves the eye holes open - for now.

I must be a pretty sight standing there in his gear. I see him look me over with a sly grin. Then he grabs the chain on my tits again and leads me across the room towards the door. It's hard going because my feet are still shackled together, and I have a hard time keeping up. One of the spring clips accidently snaps off from his tugging, and I let<br>out a muffled cry of pain. Al turns around and frowns,

I'll stick some fucking nails through those tits of yers and

make sure these damn things stay on. Get it?!'

He replaces the clips on my throbbing nipples and once more we head out of the station. I make sure I keep up this time, hobbling along behind the naked mechanic in short, tortured steps.

We get out in front of the garage. The two truck is still parked in the spotlight, and my car is off to one side. The two big straps and chain of the tower hang down from the crane. Al leads me over to the back of the truck and stands me with my back to it. I'm not sure what's going on, but he sets to work, pulling the straps between my legs and<br>hooking them up to the cable above my head. Then he walks around beside the truck and flicks the switch on the wench. Suddenly I'm being lifted off the ground. The goddam fucker lifts me up by those straps until my back is parallel to the ground and my legs are up in the air. I'm hanging there from the end of his tow truck, slung up<br>like I've seen guys in the sex bars in New York. The straps of the crane work just like a sling. When he's got me where he wants me, Al comes back around behind. My ass is right at his chest level, open and exposed to his desires.

"Now we'll see if we kin take care of this," he grins, patting my rump. "But first, we go for a little ride."

Al zips the eye slits shut on the hood, blocking out all my light. He can't be serious, I think to myself. Him bareassed, and me dangling there from the back of the two truck - we can't go notwhere like this! But before I can protest, I hear the cab door slam and he revs her up. With a quick jolt he heads that baby out of there and onto the road.

Hell! I've never had such a ride before. I'm bouncing around in mid-air, my cock flapping back and forth as he hightails it down that fucking dirt road. He doesn't spare me any bumps, either. I pray that he's got me strapped

in there real tight.

After a few harrowing minutes, we turn off onto another road that's much smoother. I figure we must be back out<br>on the highway or something. This guy's nuts! What if<br>someone should come cruising by and sees me there like that? I have to admit, though, that my poor cock was<br>ready to explode. And it would've, too, I bet, if it weren't<br>for the fact that my bladder was so full that the come had nowhere to go.

We don't go far before I hear something. Sure enough, there's somebody pulling up behind us. I can just picture some rookie state trooper getting an eyeful of my butt in

his high beams. It would be all over.

The noise grows louder, and I guess from the sound of the engine that it's a truck, a big one - probably a semi. I can see little streaks of light, too, through the zippers over<br>my eyes. I expect Al to pull off to the side of the road to let the rig by, but no dice. The truck pulls right up behind us until I can feel the heat of his engine on my ass. All of

a sudden he lets loose with a blast of his horn that nearly

scared the shit out of me.

Then it dawns on me. When I was riding in the cab before, I saw that AI was equipped with a CB. He must've called one of his buddies on the radio, and now his friend was following us to God-knows-where.

Soon Al turns off the highway again. We go a little further, then stop. I hear the semi pull up behind us, and

the cab door slams shut. "Hey, Al," cries a big, booming voice. "Whatcha got there?"

"I got me a real asshole," Al laughs. I hear the two men approach, and suddenly the slits over my eyes are opened again. I look around. We're out in the middle of some woods. There's no light around except the head lights from the semi. Al is standing there, and beside him is his friend - a big, muscular black trucker dressed in tight levis and black engineer boots. He's almost as big as Al, with a short black Afro and skin that shone like ebony in the truck lights. One look at that mother-fucker and I knew I was in for it.

The black trucker quickly slipped out of his levis and put his boots back on. He had a huge prick, like some cop's

The trucker comes up behind me. I feel his big hands run up and down the crack of my butt, poking around at<br>my balls and asshole. He shoves one of his big fingers up my hole and twists it around. I writhe on the straps as he reams my butt with first one finger, then two. I have the sinking feeling in my stomach that I'm going to get a lot more than that up there before they're through.

"Hey," says Al. "Let me open that up for ya.

He goes to the side of the tow truck and fetches a lug wrench, the kind with four iron bars shaped like a cross. see him smear some stuff on one of the ends, then he comes around to join his black friend. The trucker's fingers pull out of my butthole and Al puts the tip of the wrench against my puckered sphincter.

"Let him down," he says.

"Now hold still, boy," he says. "I'm gonna loosen up

them nuts of yers a bit.

The next thing I know, I feel the hard steel of the wrench sink into my asshole It's slippery and cold, and the feel of its weight in my gut sends shivers down my back. He shoves it in further, a good eight inches or so, then slowly starts sliding it in and out of my ass. I'm swaying back and forth on the straps as he shoves that thing in and out, in and out. I start to moan through the leather. Goddam ! I've never been fucked like that before. My whole body quivers from the sensation of the hard steel penetrating my guts. When Al sees that I'm getting off on what he's doing, he gives the wrench a quick spin. My guts feel like they're being twisted around inside me, and I can't

cock."

help but scream out loud. "Shut up, asshole!" Al hollers. He spins the wrench again, and once more I cry out, half in pleasure and half in pain. That makes him mad. He leaves the wrench sticking up my butt and goes over again to the side of the truck. He

comes back carrying a pair of jumper cables. "This'll shut you up," he growls. He yanks the chain from my tits, and replaces the clips with the ends of the jumper cables. The huge copper jaws are partially covered with strips of leather, but still those sharp teeth bite into my tits like a pair of alligators. I struggle fiercly to free my hands so I can pull those goddam things off, but it's no use. I can't see where the other ends go.

"Those things aren't connected to anything, are they?" The black trucker smirks. "Now wouldn't you just hate

The black trucker smirks. "Now wouldn't you just hate to find out, asshole. Better shut up and do as Al and I say, or you may just wind up with 20 volt tits." He laughs. I try to relax. My breath is coming in short, painful

tinues to ream my guts with the lug wrench and I let myself be pulled along by the sensation. When he's figure I'm loose enough, the wrench slides<br>out of my hole. I know what's coming next. The black trucker smears his hand and arm with grease, then slips several fingers in my sore hole. "Okay, boy. Get ready," he says. "You're gonna get fist-fucked like never before."

He shoves the whole of his hand up my ass. I hear myself moaning with lust and that black arm begins to slide up inside me. My belly feels like it's full of his arm, and my eyes are bulging from their sockets. I can only breathe in short, heavy gasps. It takes him a while to get the whole thing in, and it feels like a fucking telephone pole sticking up my butt.

"Oh, Jesus!" I moan. "Fuck me, man. Fuck me." "Yeah, asshole, take it." The trucker begins to pump his muscular arm in and out like a piston. I go crazy. I don't care anymore. I start screaming and yelling as I feel the piss and come boiling up in my nuts. He's shoving it

out of my body with his fist. "I'm coming!" I scream. And without even touching it, I look down and see my cock explode. The trucker pounds away at my guts, shoving the piss and come out of my body all at once. I never did that before. The piss squirted out with the jism, and because there was so much of it, it felt like I was coming forever. Over and over again, with each thrust of that huge black arm, I let loose with tortured spurts of cock juice. I could see Al jerking himself off watching the whole scene.

After what seemed like an eternity, the orgasm was over. I lay there in the sling panting, feeling like I was in some crazy dream that I didn't want to end. Slowly, the

trucker pulls his arm out of my ass.

Al lowers the straps until my feet touch the ground. I can barely stand. My knees feel like they're going to buckle under me any minute, and my whole body shakes. Al takes the straps from between my legs.

"Okay, asshole," the trucker says. "Now suck my

I can't protest anymore. I kneel down in the dirt in front of that big black dude and open my mouth. He un-zips the slit and sticks the bulbous head of his big prick between the zipper teeth. It's a monster cock, but it slides in all the way to the back of my throat.

I just stay there like that as he grabs me by the side of<br>my head and fucks my face. It doesn't take him long,<br>either. In a few minutes he grits his teeth and lets loose a wad of jism that would've choked a horse. I swallow it.

When he's finished, je just pushes me away. "Thanks," he says to Al. "Nice piece of asshole you got there." He puts his levis back on, hops in his truck, and is gone as quickly as he came.

Al lifts me up. He takes the cables off my tits and throws them in the back of the tower. "Git in," he says. I stumble around to the cab and climb in. We ride back

to the garage in silence. When we get there, he undoes all the gear and lets me get dressed. He doesn't though. He just

lays down naked on the cot and drinks another beer. "Well," he says. "I guess that just about takes care of the bill."

"Thanks," I say. "I guess it does."

"If ya ever need more … uh, work done, you know where to find me." Al grins and takes a gulp of beer. "Yep," I say. "I'll give you a call."

I left him there and went out to my car. I thought about the blond at the bar as I climbed in and drove away. He'll be waiting for me, probably pissed off because I'm so late.<br>But it'll be worth the wait, I think to myself. I've learned a new trick or two, and I think he just might enjoy them!

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Get your ass in gear

Kommander Kurtz: Good! You are a good boy, Hans! I will see that you are properly rewarded for your hard work and ceaseless efforts.

The time is the closing years of the Second World War. The place is a resistance hideout in Annweiler, Germany-where two lone members of the Scottish Resistance League, formally known as HRMSRL (His Royal Majesty's Scottish Resistance League) have been smuggled into the enemy terrority to carry out one of the little known but most daring escapades of the era: Operation Snatch Bunderpost!

Hans Briest: Oh, Danke, mien Kom-mander . It is not necessary. I am always willing to do my part…or anyone's part…for our glorious cause.

Kommander Kurtz: You are too humble , Hans. You can not get anywhere in this world by being humble. I didn't get where I am today be being humble. Humble is for cowards. Take a lesson from our unhumble leader…be bold! Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander. Kommander Kurtz: So, are you ready to leave on your very important assignment?

It is near dawn and our heros, O'Brien and O'Malley, are just waking up___

Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, the BBC is proud to bring you another installment in our series, Over There!, thrilling true life adventures from the files of the OSS, the CIA and the National Historical Society for the Preservation of the United Kingdom's Resistance Programs. Tonights drama concerns the daring and clever clandestine operation known as Bunder-post Snatch, or Operation Snatch Bunderpost—as it was then called by our brave lads.

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander. But just one thing, mien Komman-der …

Kommander Kurtz: What is it, Hans? Hans Briest: Do you think I am ready for such an important mission? I am only a lowly private and therefore not skilled in the ways for secret missions. Kommander Kurtz: You will do fine, Hans, do you hear me? You will do fine or I will beat your ass bloody, you understand?

In real life, Commander O'Brien was a young and fearless hero who participated in many daring actions against the Nazi terror that plagued the known Western World. His partner, O'Malley disappeared after the war and was only heard from once again—a cryptic post card from Geneva that read: "Tell the UN this is as good a place as any to open a post office."

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander. Kommander Kurtz: You will make no mistakes, there will be no slip ups, no monkey business, no screwing around or you will not be bold, Hans, you will not even be able to sit down, you understand?

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander. Kommander Kurtz: Good! Now get your gear ready and take these packages to Annweiler. You will report to Kommander Katz and he will give you your instructions from there, you understand?

For years speculation ran high that this last coded message was the final part of Operation Snatch Bunderpost, or Bunderpost Snatch, as it is logged in the Ministry of Historic Anti-Nazi Operations.

Tonight, O'Brien will be played by Jacques Ferres and O'Malley will be played by Jose Poncho Gomez.

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander.

It is dawn in Annweiler. O'Brien and O'Malley are siting in their hideout listening to the wireless. A girl's voice can be hear singing:

So, without further ado, off we go to the Supreme Bunderpost Command and act one of tonight's drama…

It is just before dawn at Bunderpost Command. Hans Briest is alone, tieing large bundles closed with string when off in the next room can be heard the sound of a key in a lock_

'Underneath the lamppost by the barracks door___

O'Brien: It should be soon, O'Malley. O'Malley: I know. Any moment now- …but O'Brien, do we think we can pull it off? I mean, we don't speak no German.

Music up, and a young girl's voice is heard singing:

"Vor der Kaserne vor dem groben Tor und eine Laterne, und steht sie noch davor, so wolln wir uns da wiedersehn bei der Laterne wolln wir stehn___

O'Brien: Don't worry, O'Malley. We won't be talking to him, we'll just snatch the bundles and run.

O'Malley: I hope he doesn't resist. We don't have no guns, you know.

O'Brien: Now don't be worrying, O'Malley. It's going to be as smooth an operation as a Barvarian creme torte.

Kommander Kurtz: So, Hans, you have been up all night?

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Heir, but I have finished.

Music, no singing.

Announcer: The operation was a smashing success. The packages being delivered by the Deutsches Bun-derpost were snatched and the poor messenger didn't even know it.

Music, same, a young girl is singing: Unse beiden Schatten sahn wie einer aus; Dab wir so lieb uns hatten, das sah man gleich daraus.

Hans Briest: Kommander Kurtz! Kom-mander Kurtz!

(The sound of a door being opened.) Kommander Kurtz: Hans, what is it? Why are you back so soon?

Hans Briest: Mien Kommander, a terri- ble thing has happened! Kommander Kurtz: What is it Hans? Hans Briest: Mien Kommander, I was taking a piss against a tree by the side of the road…and…Mien Kom- piss off my…just for a moment! Kommander Kurtz: What happened, Hans! What are you taking about-

Hans Briest: Mien Kommander, they came out of nowhere, I didn't see or hear them…I was just shaking the

Kommander Kurtz: They who, Hans? Make some sense, you dunkoff!

Hans Briest: I don't know who they were, but they took the Bunderpost bundles and hit me over the head.

Kommander Kurtz: What! What do you mean! What did they hit you with? I'll have your ass for this, Hans!

Hans Briest: But mien Kommander, you did, back in the summer of '44.

Kommander Kurtz: Hans! Are you listening , dumphkoff? What did they hit you with? Who were they?

Hans Briest: Mien Kommander, they hit me with a mackeral…I don't know who they were, but they took the Bun-derpost bundles.

Kommander Kurtz: Yes, Hans, Lunder-stand that part. They took the Bunder-post bundles and you are finished…ruined…you understand? Hans Briest: Yes, Mien Kommander. All too well.

Kommander Kurtz: But listen, Hans, where they Germans? Did you see them?

Hans Briest: I only saw them as I was passing out from the blow, mien Kommander…

Kommander Kurtz: From the mackeral?

Hans Briest: It was a big mackeral!

Announcer: Meanwhile, back in Annweiler…

O'Brien: This is a lot of mail.

O'Malley: I know, O'Brien, you think this is going to make a difference?

O'Brien: Sure it is, think of all the instructions, directions, and feelings of security the …

O'Malley: Holy Shit! O'Brien! Look at this!

O'Malley: What it is…some photographs…

O'Brien: Holy mother of us all! Look at the size of that guy's wanger…I've never seen anything like it, except on a horse once and that was a different color.

O'Malley: There's another one, look at that, it's hard…and it's as big as me wrist…and I don't have small wrists, either!

O'Brien: Who is this letter addresses to?

O'Malley: Herr Lindert…

O'Brien: Well, it isn't his brother or his father, cause his name is on the back and it's Schlongdorpf.

O'Malley: What does the letter say?

O'Brien: I can't read it, it's all in German . But, look, O'Malley-here's another letter with a picture-wait, this one is in English … "I saw your ad in the Berlinerhomo and I decided to write you and tell you that I would very much like to have you plow my ass with your fat Nazi cock…" O'Malley, it makes my ass hurt to think about it-look at the size of this one's cock, it's as big as the first one.

O'Malley: It sure is getting hot in here, I think I'll take off my uniform…at least my kilt.

O'Brien: Listen to this: "I would like to feel your thick uncut muscle ramming itself down my hot, wet, eager throat. And to eat your creamy, aryian load." What's a load, O'Malley?

O'Malley: There'll be one coming out the head of my dick any minute now if I don't cool off, O'Brien.

O'Brien: Oh, I see-you took your kilt off, O'Malley!

O'Malley: Yes, it feels much better. You can take your off too, O'Brien…then we can sit down and read all these letters and look at all the photographs…

O'Brien: But you know regulations demand that we not dispose of our uniforms while on a mission.

O'Mailey: The mission is over, O'Brien. And it is a success, so relax. We can start a new mission if you like.

O'Brien: What do you mean?

O'Malley: We could try out all the things mentioned in those letters and see if it leads to to any secret revelations.

Announcer: Meanwhile, back in the Bunderpost Command…

Kommander Kurtz: If I told you once, I told you a hundred times…

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander.

Kommander Kurtz: And you don't pay attention, Hans. You have to pay attention . I didn't get where I am today by not paying attention.

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander. Kommander Kurtz: So, Hans, you know what I am going to do to you? Hans Briest: No, mien Kommander. Kommander Kurtz: I am going to pun- ish you, Hans.

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander. Kommander Kurtz: So get over here on the double! Now turn around! Now drop those pants and lean over the desk! Go on, you worthless mes-sanger , lean over the desk! Now count! (The sound of a leather whip striking naked buttocks)

Hans Briest: Ouch! One! Kommander Kurtz: Say, Sir!

Hans Briest: Ouch! One! Sir! (Another lash) Ouch! Two! Sir!

Kommander Kurtz: Hans, why is your

Hans Briest: I don't know, Sir. But ever-ytime the whip kisses my ass, it gets

Kommander Kurtz: That's strange, Hans, because mine gets harder too! Watch…(Another lash)…See, it is now completely hard!

Hans Briest: Mien Kommander, so is mine. Mien Kommander, you have a big dick!

Kommander Kurtz: Yes, Hans, I know. The biggest in my squad. And I was the biggest in my graduating class. Gob-bels once told me I was the biggest he had ever seen…but he was still checking and promised to get back to me if he ever found one bigger. But you know, Hans, you may be second biggest . Not that I got where I am today being second biggest, you understand.

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander. Kommander Kurtz: Now lean back over the desk, I want to see if it's too big.

Hans Briest: Too big, mien Kommander?

Kommander Kurtz: Yes, Hans, too big for your bloody ass!

Announcer: Meanwhile, back in Annweiler…

O'Brien: It feels much cooler without my uniform…look at this one, O'Mal-ley ! This has to be the biggest one yet, it must be a foot long!

O'Malley: I've seen that guy somewhere before.

O'Brien: Oh yes? Where? O'Malley: I'm not sure.

O'Brien: Look! He's got balls bigger than my prize bull!

O'Malley: Wait! Now I remember. He's Kommander Kurtz, head of Bunder-post Security!

O'Brien: Holy shit! And we have a photograph of him in the stark bejeasus with his foot long dong hanging down to his kneecaps!

O'Malley: This will get us a promotion for sure.

Announcer: Meanwhile, back at Bun- derpost Command…

Kommander Kurtz: Oh, Hans! It fits so good!

Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander, tight but good.

Kommander Kurtz: Hans, maybe you're not such a bad boy after all. Hans Briest: Yes, mien Kommander. Kommander Kurtz: Maybe I can find a place for you in my new assignment. Oh, Hans, yes, move those hips! Oh

Hans Briest: What is your new assignment , mien Kommander? Oh, mien Kommander, harder, harder!

Kommander Kurtz: Oh, Hans! I am being promoted to head of Deutsches-grammerphone Security. Oh, yes, mien lieben!

(Music is heard and a young girl singing)

'Schon rief der Posten Sie blasen Zapfenstreich; Es kann drei Tage kosten! Kam'rad, ich komm ja gleich. Da sagten wir auf Wiedersehen. Wie gerne wollt ich mit dir gehn, mit dir, Lili Marleen!"

Announcer: And that concludes tonights radio program. Be sure to tune in tommorow when the BBC Historic Society will present the Trial of Oscar Wilde with Gladys Knight playing Oscar, Sarah Lee playing Boswell and Ronald Reagan playing the kazoo.

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ASK ROBE

Dear Robert Payne Sir: I have read your "Story of Q," "Mr. Benson" and the "Leatherman's Handbook " and I believe you are qualified to help me in a situation I find myself. My master and I have been together for two years now and I have received some very good training. Some guys have told me that their masters lose interest in the master / slave relationship after awhile, but my master seems to get more and more strict. At home I am not allowed on the furniture, the toilet seats (or even in his bathroom), to eat at the table or wear clothing inside, even when we have company. To celebrate our first anniversary, he had a tattoo put on my ass with his initials, and this year he says he is going to brand me on the other cheek.

I am telling you all this to let you know that we are really together. Our salaries go into the house and car and living expenses together, everything we own is joint ownership. I feel very se- cure except for one thing. He usually won't let me be used by anyone else, which is fine. But he picks up other m's sometimes and brings them home and makes me have a three-way session with them. Or last week he brought another master and his slave home and they traded us off. The guy was alright and we had quite a session but there is only one man I am interested in and I can't help feeling not only jealousy but a little bit insecure. I haven't said any- thing to him, not only because I am afraid to, but maybe I am being a silly ass. What do you think?

Humbly, AF, Phoenix

A.F. — I did not write the "Leatherman's Handbook." John Preston wrote "Mr. Benson." You have a lot wrapped up in this relationship, naturally you are protective of it. However, maybe your master is more secure in it than you are. It is up to him whether or not you have sessions with anyone else. He very likely is working at making your lives together more interesting for both of you. If he is not concerned about your being tempted with another master than he is relatively sure of you, right, ass-hole ?

If he has branded you and plans to do it again, he obviously plans to be with you for quite awhile. You have nothing to worry about, so don't bother him or me with this childishness.

Show him your letter and my answer. He may punish you for having written without permission, or it might open up some important dialogue. Or both.

Dear Robert Payne:

I have always been a top man, have no desire to be a bottom. Occasionally I am attracted to someone else's pro- perty. Of course I check first to see what their reaction to my inspecting their property is. The request is made properly to the Master. In my book, the slave is never consulted. Sometimes I get nothing but attitude. Occasionally everybody gets a turn-on. What is your opinion of this?

MW, Des Moines

I find your approach to be straight for- ward. This is an older custom than you might think. Gentlemen in New Orleans in clubs would allow their fellows to "finger" their fancy bucks, that is order them to "shuck down" and show what they had. Usually one offers to let the other Master check out his own stud when he requests the same courtesy from the other. If you don't hap- pen to have one with you, then you can at least make a token offer of returning the favor. Masters who give 'attitude' to a reasonable and courteous request, probably are a little on the insecure side.

Dear Robert Payne:

What do you think of the recent arrest in San Francisco of the pair that kidnapped and held their victims for days, injuring them in S&M practices. Isn't that a danger to all of us?

R.L., Chicago

The best information we have (none of which came from the newspapers which was mostly bullshit) is that in that instance, there was no kidnapping, it was carried on with the consent of everyone involved from the beginning. It seems to have been a drug problem rather than an S&M one.

Being at someone's mercy while they (and possibly you) are under the influence of who-knows-what is stupid and dangerous. Usually there is safety in numbers, but in this case that didn't seem to work.

Such carryings-on is definitely a danger to all of us in more ways than one.

Robert -

I am in my early fifties and am tired of cruising bars and baths. I am a somewhat shy top, if that is possible. I want to find someone in their thirties that is muscular and obedient. I am not interested in one night stands. Money is not a problem but I am tired of drifters and disco queens. Any ideas?

S.T., Miami

YIVI B

Plenty! All you have said is what you want. We have to read between the lines to find out what you have to offer. Fifties is not a liability if you know what you are doing. Many younger guys are looking for someone more mature and knowledgeable than they are.

The Leather Fraternity was created to help like-minded men to find one another. Answer an ad or run one. Shyness is not as big a liability as being a loud-mouth can be. Don't be too picky about the guy's physical appearance. If he isn't the shape you want, send him to a gym. Too hairy? Shave him. Too pushy? Train him. Not dependable? Get rid of him.

Dear Robert:

My lover, who is also my slave, is docile enough. However, he complains when he is uncomfortable or if I squeeze his balls or if I turn him over in the middle of the night and want to use him. He complains that he is sleepy. I find this the most irritating of all. Who is wrong here?

HM, Atlanta, Georgia

You are. Discomfort for a slave is a matter of degrees. If he is in unbearable pain, that is one thing and you are at fault. If he is inconvenienced, tough shit. Do the same thing your dad did to you in the woodshed. Take a belt to his ass and get rid of all that attitude. As for using him at any time of the day or night, that is what he is for. Tie him spreadeagled to the bed, warm his ass with the aforementioned belt until he is more awake and in a truly receptive mood, then use him. After all that is what he is for. His responsibility is not to irritate you but to please you. Your responsibility is his safety and security and well being. If his complaints are screams of pain, that is something else. But as I understand your problem, your lover needs a stronger hand.

Dear Mr. Payne:

I am a former athlete that has entered into a master / slave relationship with an older guy that I am very strong- ly attracted to, enough that I have agreed to his complete management of my affairs as well as my life. I mention my former profession because it might help explain the work I am doing now. Since I have very little experience in any other profession, my work is usually manual labor. My master will not let me bartend or be a waiter, although the tips are very good. He has made me hustle a few times and I give the money to him, which is more symbolic than anything else. But I want him to take my wages, since whatever a slave owns or earns belongs to his master, doesn't it? He seems reluctant to take it since he is pretty well fixed, but it is a real turn on for me to give him my pay check every Friday night. He says ask you. What do you think?

SG, Chicago, Illinois I would suggest to your master that he take your wages from you, which turns you on, and deposit them in a trust account , belonging to you but over which he has control. Many things change in time as do your needs. He obviously doesn't love you for your earning power nor does he need your wages. However, he could put it away for you, and should anything happen to you, you would be protected. As for making you hustle for bucks, that has a number of legal ramifications that I choose not to advise you on. However, should you be busted for such activities, he certainly has an obligation to bail you out and defend you. If that is part of the trip, as it is the police's, enjoy.

Robert, Sir:

I am a slave whose master is planning to pierce my nipples and perhaps my right ear. I am afraid, of course, but even more afraid he will not stop there. I love him and trust him, but fear that he will get carried away. He is having the piercing done, so there is another person involved. Should I let him have his way with me?

RL, New York If you are a slave, you really don't have too much choice. If your master is call- ing in someone else to do the actual work, then he is concerned, I assume, that it be done properly. I suggest that you respectfully ask him what he has in mind, which he is not really obligated to answer, but probably will. Tell him of your fears and let him fill you in on his intentions. Piercing, next to tattooing, is like a wedding ceremony and should be taken very seriously. Whoever does the piercing should know what the hell he is doing and why. Trust him - or leave him.

YOU MAY WRITE TO ROBERT PAYNE c / o DRUMMER, 15 Harriet, San Francisco, CA 94103. If your letter is used, he will send you an auto- graphed copy of your choice of his books. If you wish a more private answer, send a self-addressed stamped envelope.

MALECALL Continued from page 7 spite of everything, I think you do a great job, and I look forward to remaining a satisfied customer. Keep up the good work.

J. F. F.

A SLAVE'S DREAM

I have been a real full-time, red- blooded, Yankee slave boy, serving one and only one man, my Master, a hot, macho Latin, a native and citizen of the Dominican Republic, for six years. I have been a genuine slave, the property of this hot Topman, who has been literally that for all of his thirty-six years. I have not had a job out in the world for the past six years, I am a totally monogamous slave. No bullshit! Adjusting to the life of a slave at the age of thirty, "Don't come easy," as the song states. Through the grace of God, the patience of my Master, various degrees of determination, a strong faith rooted in positivity and beauty and our love - never tiring and never-ending . I am forwardly pursuing my vocation, a life of slavery dedicated by a most solemn and sacred covenant to serving, obeying and being totally open, honest and truthful to my Man, the object of my complete respect.

Now that you know a speck about me let me tell you about a dream I had recently. The following came to me in a dream in which Christ was teaching me about the beauty of my homosexuality and masochism. He wrote these words and handed me the page without

"The only way sex is misused or abused is by ridiculing it or laughing ashamedly about it or by treating it lightly as though it had no real worth."

Cum permissu, Slave alfie, Manhattan

SUGGESTIONS AND …

I've just finished reading issue 42, and it was a definite turn-on, especi- ally the section on S&M in Houston. "Meat: Straight to Hell," and this month's "Tough Shit" page. But the reason I'm taking time out to write is to add my support to letterwriter C.M.'s complaint that DRUMMER could do with a few more photoseries on certain subjects.

In your "Getting Off" column you asked for readers' help in suggesting changes for DRUMMER, so in addition to the suggestions above, I'd like to mention that a section on readers' experiences (of any sort) comparable to the Penthouse Forum would be great. Whether the letters you would get would be based on real or fantasized experiences wouldn't matter; either way they would be a turn-on, and I'd bet you'd be deluged with letters if only you'd set aside a few pages for such a forum. Maybe the "Malecall" section could be expanded in this way.

Vince Philadelphia, PA

enormous fire blazed in the hearth, but did little to dispel the moist, icy cold on this far side of the chamber. When we approached the center, however, I began to feel the welcome radiations. I also felt a sense of awe; the hushed majesty of the dungeon seemed to obviate any doubt that I held a cache of dreadful secrets. A score of spirits might have lurked in the darkness about the upper walls, and I was suddenly grateful had fallen over the group since entering the chamber.

We had automatically clustered about the fire, opening coats and jackets so the heat could penetrate. Alfred was rubbing his hands together, extending them toward the flames. "Last night we merely sat about and waited for something to ' he remarked thoughtfully. He paused as if he'd in-happen , tended to say something more.

"And you think our action tonight is going to encourage an appearance?" suggested Bert. "Better than … what you call it … a seance," said Kurt with a sour expression.

"I have my doubts that a seance as such is ever going to produce results," said Edgar. He had completely removed his jacket and stood with his back to the fireplace, clasping his hands behind him as he faced the rest of us. "Your ghost has been reported to have appeared on two occasions," he con- tinued. "Both times over there." He pointed toward the foot each time? Is that not the usual mode for a spirit?" added

Alfred softly.

Edgar shrugged, as if unwilling to commit himself.

"If it's really — or supposedly — the ghost of a young monk," I added lightly, "he may appear because he's offended by the S&M." I had intended my remark to be sarcastic, but several guys - including Alfred - responded seriously.

"That may be," the old man said evenly. "That herd of tourists may also have disturbed him," Bert suggested. Whether his expressionless mask was supposed to have been earnest or ironic, however, I couldn't tell.

"Either the real or the pretended reason for the appear- ances," Edgar reminded us.

"Sounds to me like an excuse for a little action," I quipped. I was doing my best to make light of it all, but this was not a true reflection of my feelings. I was trembling, and it wasn't entirely from the cold. Though I kept telling myself I was being foolish, the atmosphere of this ancient torture chamber made the existence of a ghost seem more than plausible. I glanced about the machines and instruments: the great stone block in the center of the room with its leather restraints at the four corners; the collection of chains and harnesses over the bottomless pit across the way; the brands and whips and screw-driven crushing devices that hung about the walls. If the little acolyte had been entertained in this room before the bishop sealed his pain-wracked body into a wall, there was every justification for his spirit to remain and inconvenience the churchman's successors.

"Won't it be a little cold for the M?" asked Jim. He had also slipped his jacket off and was perched on the ledge in front of the hearth. But his hands gripped the stones, suspending his buttocks an inch or so above the surface. He was wear-

"We must use the braziers," suggested Alfred. "Place them

Everyone had more or less adjusted to the heat from the fire, and I now moved a couple of steps away. It was almost too warm immediately in front of the hearth. I was excited by the idea of being involved in another session, despite my previous reservations. Ghost or no ghost, spontaneous activity about the group, his dark eyes sparkling in the reflected light. I watched the play of muscular strength against the olive twill of his jumpsuit, felt the familiar warmth grip my loins. The guy definitely turned me on, and the longer I watched him the more my interest concentrated itself to form a throbbing tickle of lust within my balls.

One by one, we had piled our coats and jackets on the stone ledge, stacking them to either side of the fireplace. Alfred produced a bottle of brandy, which he passed around during the muttered, half-joking discussion. Bert was standing a bit to one side, saying very little until Edgar made a playful grab to tweak his nipple, where it made an intriguing little point against his black T-shirt. My uncle seemed to have adjusted to the temperature more quickly than the rest of us, standing in apparent comfort in just a pair of black jeans, boots, and the fitted shirt. This was the closest I had ever come to seeing his body, I realized. Usually he was dressed in a business suit, else in leather with a loose-draped shirt. In the reddish light of the fire he was every bit as exciting as I had imagined him to be in my fantasies. He was broad through the chest and shoulders, tapering to a narrow waist. His arms were hard and well defined, his skin light in contrast to the darkness of his clothing. Until Edgar grabbed at him, he stood silent and thoughtful, thumbs hooked into the wide leather belt, long, thick fingers resting easily upon either side of his groin.

Bert jumped away at the unexpected contact, startled, I supposed, because he had been lost in thought and had not seen Edgar approach him. Kurt had been watching them, and now permitted a slight, sardonic grin to curl his lips. "You seem best adapted to the cold," he told my uncle. "Perhaps you should be our subject."

Just the barest suggestion of an answering smile creased Bert's mouth. He made a slight negative motion with his head and nodded toward Jim. "That's the hungry one in the fam- ily," he said softly.

Kurt followed my uncle's gaze, though he had a strange expression I was unable to interpret. Whatever had passed between these men before I arrived, it had apparently left them with some shared, secret confidences … as he has with Jim, I thought … with everyone but me. Kurt touched the center thought … with everyone but me. Kurt touched the center of Jim's chest with his fist. "Well?" he asked.

"J'm … still a bit marked … from London," Jim faltered. He glanced uncertainly at Bert, who must have given som of the top button on his shirt, paused and looked about to a wooden chest from under the ledge. Jim slowly removed his shirt and sat on the stone to unlace his boots. The old man took a large, fleecy skin from the container. "This should keep the stone from freezing your blood," he told the other. While Jim continued to strip, Alfred went to the block and covered it with the pelt, wooly side down so the soft, smooth deerskin made a flat surface across the stone. The whole busi- ness seemed a little less awkward, I thought, as action began to drive away reserve and lethargy. Within myself, I felt the lust building; and I was certain th larly, though their outward expressions were still a bit reserved .

It was the sight of Jim's naked body which broke the impasse. The unsteady reddish glow from the fire helped to obscure the marks on his back and buttocks. His face had re- covered just enough to benefit by the same effect of color and darkened shadow. His small stature was emphasized, too, by the rest of the group being clothed. The contrast was as stark as the lights and darks from the flames. Despite my own familiarity with Jim's attributes I responded to their sensual aspects as readily as any of my companions.

Kurt made the first move, taking over as I had seen him do so many times before. He placed his wide, thick-fingered hand on the naked chest, caressed its satin surface, hesitating only a moment at one nipple before letting his hand slide across Jim's midsection and cup itself beneath the balls. The smaller man stayed in place, unmoving, his gaze cast downward in keeping with the role of subject. Edgar stood behind him, watching the play of light and shadow across Jim's backside . There was no mistaking the interest in his expression or

the gleam of appreciation in his eyes. With this shift of attention toward a strongly sexual setting, the whole chamber seemed suddenly warmer and the barriers of reserve were quickly giving way between us.

Alfred had remained by the central block, looking back at the rest of us. Still holding Jim's balls in his hand, Kurt led the unresisting figure across the stone floor. For the first time, I noted that Jim had slipped his feet back into his boots, which served the dual purpose of protecting his feet from the cold surface, while giving him an air of even greater sensuality. Speaking softly, but with a tone of stern command, Kurt directed him onto the deerskin which covered the platform. He lifted the first of the leather restraints and fastened this about one of Jim's ankles. I had moved slightly forward, as had Edgar. Bert lingered behind us, near the fire, though he followed slowly as we neared the rectangular stone. The deerskin gave the block a more barbaric appearance: as if we were watching some prehistoric rite, a prisoner of an ancient tribe prepared for sacrifice.

Alfred had started to move a heavy iron brazier from the far side toward the center. Seeing that it was too much for him to manage on his own, I stepped over to help. Between us, we dragged a pair of these into position opposite two diagonal corners. The old man went to the fire and carried back some coals on a shovel, placing a fair amount into each container. I looked down at Jim, who was now secured at wrists and ankles, lying on his back in complete helplessness. Kurt had adjusted the chains connecting the leather bands, lightening them so his prisoner's body was stretched taut across the surface . He stood beside the block, running his hands down the length of the other's body, lingering at the most sensitive spots, twisting the flesh between thumb and forefinger to make the captive writhe and twist, creating a picture of im- prisoned strength. "Vortrefflich!" Alfred muttered. "Exquisite!"

"That it is," Edgar agreed. It was the first time he'd spoken for several minutes, and his deep bass voice was jarring. It gave him an air of command and authority, I thought, and my feeling was apparently shared by the others. Everyone had turned to look at him, even Kurt, whose hand remained on Jim's midsection, idly stroking the pliant wall of flesh.

Edgar grinned self-consciously, and as he started comment, it seemed his gaze fell most pointedly on me. "I think it's time to place our observers," he said softly. He glanced at Jim, then back around the circle of faces. The trace of a smile re- mained on his lips. "I know we'd a center of action, but … ah, it could be a little too … distracting … subject like this, and all …” He smacked his lips and licked them, camping it just enough to make light of the very genuine desire which showed in his eyes and by the rather obvious swelling in his crotch.

"Someone's got to make the sacrifice," I agreed lightly. glanced at Jim, then, and laughed. "No pun intended, added.

He returned my look with an unblinking gaze, his demeanor so serious I wondered for the first time whether he had taken the role of M because he wanted it, or whether he was merely fulfilling my uncle's wishes. No reason for that, I thought. I'm making too much of it.

"Since Kurt and Alfred know the castle best, I might suggest that they do the honors," Edgar continued. "Let's say… one over by the hearth, just far enough away to maintain a degree of … objectivity. The other should b

Kurt sighed, gave Jim's cock a final squeeze and nodded his assent. "It is correct," he said. "Let the old man sit by the fire.

I shall go above." "Alone?" I asked without thinking.

Kurt turned on me with a harshly knowing smile, and in the first instance it struck me as so malevolent I shuddered and took an involuntary step backward. He moved after me, though, and as he changed position I realized my perception had been mostly due to the effect of the lighting. "Perhaps our American friend would like to come along and … protect me," he said in a tone of challenge. It was almost as if he dared me to accept, but I think the effect was lost on the others as they couldn't see his face.

"Maybe I'll just do that," I answered firmly.

Edgar laughed softly, making a deep rich sound … like the devil in Faust. "Okay," he said. "Soldiers, to your posts!"

I looked over at Bert, who had remained mute through all the verbal exchange. He nodded at me and winked, moving up to stand beside Edgar. Alfred retreated to the fireplace edge, and Kurt beckoned me to follow him. Without a backward glance, he led me through the darkened passage, up the stairs inside the wall. We came onto the landing where we could look out through the narrow opening to survey the entire vault below us. This was at the point where the passage took a right angle turn and extended twenty-five or thirty feet into the blackness before it turned again to parallel the inner walls of the adjoining rooms.

Because of the cramped quarters, it was necessary that we stand close together. I had left my jacket downstairs, as had Kurt, and I wondered if he welcomed the warmth of our contact as I did. While we stood there, I kept telling myself how foolish it was to maintain the hostility, but I also rationalized that it was Kurt's doing, not mine. On the other hand, I had offended him… disappointed him, maybe even led him on, though I had not intended to do so. Despite my trying to deny it, I knew the blame was not completely his. After several minutes of jockeying for position, bumping shoulders and neither of us speaking to the other, I slipped my arm under his and slid my hand around his waist. This pulled us together and made it easier for each to see through the narrow vertical slit in the stone.

At first I sensed the tensing of Kurt's body, and his muscles seemed to harden beneath my fingers. He still didn't say anything , but neither did he make any move to shove me away. Gradually I felt him relax, and I was trying to think of the proper words when he abruptly turned toward me. For a split second I could see his face, dark and mostly in shadow. But his sharply chisled features were emphasized by the light that filtered in through the restricted opening. I could see the passionate intensity in his eyes. He held me against him, both

It was not a gentle kiss, and whatever tender emotion he may have felt was lost in the desperate, possessive demand. His front teeth jarred on mine, his mouth forcing my lips to part as his tongue plunged inside and his grasp tightened about my body until he forced the wind from my lungs. Hungrily, without pasue or restraint, he devoured me, enveloped me in his warmth and passion. His tongue and lips were seeking some inner goal that was physically impossible to obtain. I was surrounded by him, overpowered and given no chance to question his right or his motivation. I could feel the thrusting demand where his loins ground against me, and I answered this as fully as I did the rest. It was a disruptive, unexpected assault on my senses; but my response was complete … unrestrained. On my part, at least - and, I suspected, on Kurt's - it was a purely physical craving, a need to feel his body on mine and to share the reciprocal strength of his being.

When he finally let go his hold and lifted his face, both of us were gasping for breath, both reluctant to sever the contact of our lower bodies. "Ich liebe dicht! (I love you)" he mut- tered.

I thought he smiled at me, then, though I still couldn't see him clearly enough to be sure. But his words - common enough, and used as frequently in his language as in my own - still harkened back in their alien form to the days when Kurt and Alfred had tutored me in German. It was a phrase from Geothe's famous poem, as well as the standard lovers' declaration. I responded with the lines that followed; "Mich reizt dein schoine Gestalt, und bist du micht willig so brauch ich Gewalt!". I remembered how I'd translate made both of us laugh … nervously, sharing a very personal secret. (I had defamed the great Germanic classicst by reading his words as: "I dig your groovy bod, and if you don't put out I'll rape you.")

"If you just hadn't left like you did," Kurt whispered.

"I'm back now," I reminded him.

He groaned softly, deep in his throat and kissed me again

… more gently this time. "Are you really back?" he asked me.

"What you feel is what you've got," I answered glibly.

He gave me a final hug and glanced back at the opening. "We are neglecting our duty," he remarked hoarsely.

Together, arms about each other's waist, we returned our attention to the scene below us. Alfred was still seated by the hearth; Bert and Edgar were poised above the bound, naked form of their prisoner. The blood still pounded in my ears, and the closeness to Kurt, the sudden breakthrough to our previous warmth of feeling, gave rise to an enormous rush of pleasure that completely dissipated the cautious reluctance I should have retained. In those moments I was riding a crest of awesome attraction which almost made me wonder if I really might be in love with Kurt.

His arm tightened again, pulling us more firmly together as we watched the others. A three-quarter leather hood had been placed over Jim's head, blocking his eyes and ears. Edgar held the stub of a fat red candle in his hand, moving it slowly along the length of the captive's body. Periodically, he allowed the molten wax to fall, striking Jim on the chest or groin, causing him to jump and pull at his restraints. Numerous splotches of red formed glowing islands of brilliance, at my distance appearing like flecks of blood upon the golden alabaster of his skin. I could see knots of rawhide about Jim's genitals, forcing his rigid cock to project at an angle above the dark patch of pubic hair. It bobbed, now, from side to side with every wrenching attempt to pull away … springy rod restricted by its bonds, tossed by the violent motions. The strip of leather seemed to pass between his legs, under his crotch, and I assumed it was anchored about his neck. rawhide pressed tightly against his throat, which seemed the natural terminus and would account for the other effects.

Edgar continued with the candle, drawing a regular pattern, eventually forming a pair of lines that started at either nipple and trailed across the tightly flexed muscles of Jim's chest and midsection, converging at the groin. Here the brittle collection of red formed a larger pool and covered the crisp black hair; extended its riverlet fingers into the shadows between his legs. The guttering flame now hovered directly over the turgid, rearing shaft. Periodically he allowed a sizable flood to deluge across it, striking the head and all along the underside. I could hear Jim's rasping intake of breath each time the hot mass struck him, watched the increasingly desperate lunges as he tried to avoid the searing sensation of liquid fire, rising in an arc above the stone when the fluid splattered upon his balls. Edgar placed one hand flat atop the captive's stomach, pushed him down and whispered something I couldn't hear … calming his subject as he waited for the trembling and twist- ing to subside.

"Have you ever done that?" whispered Kurt.

"A couple of times," I told him. I remembered the one instance when it had been done to me, and how frightening it had been until I realized the wax would not really burn. Again, as I had earlier in the day, I found myself dwelling on my own responses to a particular scene and finding the recall more pleasurable than the actual event. Watching it done to Jim, however, was more exciting to me than either the personal reality or the visualized repetition. My identification was ambivalent . I thought; if I'd had my choice I would have taken Edgar's place, not Jim's. But there was still a vicarious thrill to my observation of the M's responses.

Abruptly, my introspective wanderings were interrupted as Kurt shifted his stance and twisted about to face me. He scooped me into the circle of his arms and locked us together in a frantic embrace. As before, I lost all semblance of rational control. All logical arguments against recommencing our ill-fated relationship melted in the heat of his touch; every fiber of my mental and physical being responded to him. My hands clenched rantically upon the muscular planes of his back, sensed the lithesome power that swelled beneath the rough material of his shirt.

Kurt aplayed the fingers of one hand against the back of my head, holding me so I could not break the eontact of our lips … had I harbored any desire to do so. His other arm passed about my waist, driving my loins onto his. It was stark, animal passion, devoid of sentimental overtones. . but so demanding, so exquisitely matched to my own internal cravings, I responded with a hungry passion tha partner's. I felt his hand slide off my ass and begin to work its way between us, long thick fingers probing the inside of my waistband. The palm faced outward from my straining midsection, so the back of his fingers grazed the burning surface of my skin. He touched my cockhead, where the desperate pressures had driven it to rise and thrust its length flat across my belly … reaching out to him and answering his contact with a pulsing flood of sensation. He closed his fist about the shaft, squeezed it hard and twisted it until the swell of feeling made flecks of light and color flash against the in- sides of my eyelids.

We were so involved and lost in one another, we had completely forgotten the action in the chamber below us. How long we held together is hard to say, probably no more than a minute or two, but we might well have gone considerably longer had we not been jarred back to reality by a sudden groan. The first thought to flash into my mind was that the ghost had appeared, and Kurt reacted as if he shared my fear. We turned quickly to peer down through the narrow orifice, Kurt's hand and wrist remaining entrapped by the pressure of my belt. As we surveyed the scene and realized that the sound had come from Jim - still blinded by the leather hood, incapable of seeing or responding to any special presence - we both experienced a surge of guilt. Though Kurt's fingers held gently about my cock, occasionally kneading or stroking it, his attention now remained riveted on the floor of the vault.

Edgar had stepped around to the base of the stone table. He was leaning forward, his body arched above the widespread division of his subject's legs. The placement of the braziers must have warmed the area considerably, as he had removed his jumpsuit and was now wearing just his unlaced boots and a black loinstrap which appeared to be made of leather. His body was every bit as rugged and defined as I'd imagined, displayed now at its muscular best by the distension … leaning into empty air, braced only by the contact of his upper thighs against the edge of stone. He was holding the candle over Jim's groin again, directing the wax to strike the uncoated portions of cock and balls. Each time he did this, the prisoner winced and moaned, crying out more loudly when the candle was held lower, increasing the temperature of the glob which fell upon him. As he watched, Edgar completed his covering of the entire area, sealing it in a brilliant cocoon. In several places the hot wax had dribbled off the sides of the upthrust column, forming stringy unions with the larger puddle underneath.

'He's a groovy S," I whispered.

Kurt grunted softly. "He has many varied talents," he replied.

It suddenly occurred to me that Edgar had instigated nearly all the action up to this point, and I looked to see what Bert was doing. My uncle had not removed any of his clothes, was still wearing the faded jeans and black T-shirt. He was at the opposite end of the table from Edgar, also leaning over Jim, gently stroking his arms, whispering something to him. His face was placid, black curly hair still carefully arranged … so Italian in appearance. I thought of my mother's jokingabout her younger brother. "Daddy always claimed Bertie was the milkman's. Used to laugh and tell people that when he was in his cups … made Mummy so furious!" Wha source, my uncle was a damned attractive man. Although I had accepted his untouchable status until my desire for him was sidetracked, the old yearning still seethed deep inside me. I suppressed it while I allowed the momentary lusts … my attractions to Jim and Kurt … Edgar … to express themselves .

But watching him, I wondered why he had left it all to the other man, and the more I thought about it the more disappointed I became. I felt cheated, in a way, because I had anticipated this opportunity to observe him in action. Now he was taking a very passive part, was very much the junior S.

I was about to remark on this to Kurt, when my companion suddenly tensed. He yanked his hand free of my jeans and spun about, peering into the blackness of the corridor behind us. "Did you hear that?" he asked. "Hear what? I didn't —"

"Something moved back there," he insisted. He was half crouched, poised like a runner at the starting line. "Stay here

and watch," he whispered. "Call me if you see or hear anything ." With that, he bolted into the shadowy depths of the hallway, lost to my sight in less than a heartbeat.

I could hear him moving away from me, though I seemed to detect his pausing at the place where the corridor turned to the left. There were a few more muted scuffling sounds … then nothing. I strained to hear, but the silence of the empty stone seemed almost solid. Kurt's departure had been so sudden I'd had hardly a moment to collect my thoughts, and now that I realized I was alone in the unlighted passage I began to have a creepy feeling down my spine. Fear contracted within my bowels, gripped down to deaden the lusty warmth and replace it with some primordial dread. Desire drained like melting ice from my loins as I tensed to face whatever unknown might hover in the velvet blackness. I was never really sure, but I half-convinced myself that I had heard the sound to which Kurt had responded. Yet I couldn't describe it. I consoled myself with the assumption that I had been to distracted to perceive it. My mind must have registered on a subconscious level, I told myslef; I never thought to question its reality.

It may have been five minutes that I stared into the empty darkness - surely no more than this, though it was long enough for a good many specters to materialize within my mind. A couple of times I imagined motion or heard some muffled whisper of stealthy movement. All the terrors I had felt during my return trips, following my solitary nocturnal visits to the chambers the previous summer, now returned in force. Even as I experienced the sensations, I knew I was allowing imagination to run away with me; but I was alone, in such total darkness that I was literally unable to see my hand before my face.

There was a sudden loud cry from the chamber. It made me bolt and projected the fear up my spine like mercury in a thermometer. I had been backed tightly against the wall, now took a step or two away from it. While I knew I had to look through the opening, I was afraid to turn my back on the un- known void. "Stupid!" I muttered to myself. I forced my body to twist around, groping for the wall and almost top- pling over because I had no visual clues to guide me. I had edged a few feet away from the slit, returned to it now against the tide of urgent dread that dragged at me and seemed to command my attention toward the hallway.

I gripped the sides of the vertical opening just as the outcry … louder this time, and more deeply expres-was repeated. sive of pain. Jim was still on the stone rectangle, but he had been turned to lie on his belly. Bert was where he'd been before, standing by one of the upper corners, stroking Jim's arms and speaking to him softly. Edgar had cast aside his leather strap and now stretched his powerful smaller man. His massive arms were wrapped about Jim's torso, and the solid rounds of his ass were raised just enough to make his usage obvious. Jim emitted another shuddering moan as the big man dropped his loins, driving his cock fully into the unprotected orifice. After this, their coupling was ac-companied by a regular series of deep-throated moans from the tightly bound figure, interspersed with sighs and guttural mumblings of pleasure from Edgar. Slowly, the larger man's hips began a regular, rolling motion against his subject, and Jim's responses became more an expression of pleasure and acceptance.

The longer I watched, of course, the more fascinated I became. My own lust was rebuilding, until I could almost feel that tightly gripping flesh about my cock, the solid roundness of his butt against the sides of my groin. My hand rested on my crotch, where vicarious pleasure thrust itself against the cloth. The chill of fear had given way to building lust, and heat seemed to radiate from my reoriented senses. I watched the muscles slide smoothly beneath the gleaming skin of Edgar's back and buttocks, tried to picture the rigid power which sprouted from his loins and formed the fleshy bridge between their bodies. Jim had ceased to tense against him, arms and legs lying limp in their leather restraints. His head had dropped onto the deerskin, eyes closed as he sustained the fierce assault in silence. Edgar was lifting his lower body completely free, plunging down with a force that set a series of sharp, fleshy slaps echoing against the surrounding walls.

I glanced at Bert, still wondering why his participation was so limited. I cast my gaze quickly toward the hearth. Alfred was seated as he'd been before, exclussively a voyeur … completely neutral to the action except for the intense longing I sensed in his eyes and in the motionless set of his jaw. My eyes were drawn back to the stone, to the savage beauty of the interaction … a display of passionate motion that no sculptor could ever hope to capture in frozen marble. The bigger man had lapsed, now, into a tighter, faster possession. His hips were hardly lifting, though the concave depressions above his hips were drawing deep and flexing out … as if his lower body respirated in rhythm with the steady, powerful thrusting of his waist, the rippling wave of contractions along his spine.

As I continued to gaze through the opening, I seemed to be almost enclosed by an aura of warmth, my own body heat generated by an intense - albeit vicarious - arousal. I sensed a prickling chill along my spine, which at first seemed no more than a part of all the rest … a hyper-somatic response to the wild display on the floor of the vault. But gradually the chill increased until it assumed a solid proportion, touching all along my backside. I seemed to sense some presence behind me, and for a moment I froze in place. Then my rational control took over, telling me it had to be Kurt returning along the passage. I turned quickly … and almost expired as the hackles rose on back and shoulders, my entire being paralyzed by shock and terror. Every pore prickled with cold, abject horror. Floating in the darkness, seemingly just beyond my reach, was a silent, hooded figure!

I was so startled it must have been several seconds before I so much as breathed. Or maybe I screamed right away. I'm not even sure how long the specter hung there, nor could I later recall the exact sequence of my own behavior. I remember the sense of bitter cold, the overwhelming fear that made me shout in unreasoned hysteria. I flayed the air in front of me, more in an attempt to ward the thing off than with any purpose of exploring its substance. It was cold. All around it … all around me, I felt the freezing chill of the grave. That was my strongest and most overriding impression … that, and the blanket of panic which enerviated my brain.

One moment the thing was there; the next it was gone, dissolving into the icy depths of blackness. Kurt was holding me by the shoulders, shaking me and shouting - ahlf in English, half in German - asking me what had happened and demanding that I come back to my senses. I could hear some- one … Bert, then Edgar pounding up the stairs, also calling out and asking what was wrong. "The ghost," I told them. "The fuckin' ghost!" My teeth were chattering and I hugged myself to keep from freezing. Kurt was on one side, my uncle on the other, leading me down the stairs. Alfred stood at the bottom, watching us with a grim, worried frown. Edgar, still naked and gleaming with sweat, was padding down behind us.

They seated me on the ledge beside the hearth and the old man placed his bottle of brandy to my lips, forcing me to take a couple of swallows. Someone had turned Jim loose, and I remember his kneeling in front of me.

"Leave him alone for a minute," said Bert. "Let him catch his breath." glanced up at my uncle, suddenly recast as the assured and commanding figure he had always seemed. The others deferred to him, and even in my disordered state I noted the contrast. Gradually the paralysis drained away, and the fire's heat dispelled the chill which coursed my veins. Alfred threw a jacket around my shoulders as I took another pull at the brandy, trying to control the trembling spasms in my arms and legs. "Are you all right now?" asked Bert. "Yeah, I think so," I answered hoarsely.

Edgar sat beside me, still naked but nonetheless the professional investigator. "What happened?" he inquired. "I don't know," I said. "I'm not really sure." I tried to explain what I'd seen and felt, but the uncertainty gr as I spoke. Real as it had seemed a few minutes before, I now wondered if I could have imagined it.

(To Be Continued)

(103) 品

HOT MAN-TO-MAN TO CONTACT FOR A COOL 35¢ A

ALABAMA

SOUTH ALABAMA REDNECK wants tumble in the hay-anything goes. W / M, 40, 5'8", 140 lbs., 8" Box 1416

HOT LEATHER gloved, cigar-smoking Leather Master, 6', 145 lbs., w / m 34, 7" cut, seeking brothers in Leather. Mutually satisfying scene and discretion assured; limits respected. You must be serious, disciplined, and unashamed of earned affection. No drugs, scat, or heavy pain. We are a rare breed. Box A85

BODYBUILDER

ALABAMA 4 yrs. Marine Corp, Interested in and participate in wrestling, boxing, hard fucking, heavy whip- ping, straps-Bull Whips. Box 1456

ARKANSAS

LIFE TIME RELATIONSHIP

ARKANSAS-Attractive W / M, 29, 5'6", 130 lbs., Brown Hair, Blue Eyes looking for young man for permanent relationship. Must be willing to relocate to Arkansas, Strt. appearing, sincere. No drugs, fems. Young men welcome. Want someone for quiet, loving, life time relationship. Please send photo. Box 1420

LITTLE ROCK SLAVES

Get on your knees and write to this dominant Master, 6', 2", 185 lbs., 8\%" uncut; if you are white, masculine, not overweight. Interested in shaving your crotch, pouring piss down your slave throat, bondage, getting the discipline from you I demand, fist- fucking, and letting you know who's boss. Am experienced, respectful of limits, and imaginative. You should include phone number and when you are available. Box 308B

CALIFORNIA

HUNKY

SAN FRANCISCO AREA-Well put together pierced and tatooed M., new to area, 38, 6'3", 195 lbs., brown / blue; mustache, cut 6'2", with heavy expe- rience looking for serious Leather Master any race 25-50. Uncut meat a real plus, C / B torture, W / S, Whips, Ass work and a lot more just for opener. This animal into damn near anything with your pleasure his central focus. Have complete Leather and toy collection waiting for you. No fats or fems. All photos get mine and immediate reply. Box 1283.

WANTED BOYISH LOOKING wanting to please young man, 18-25 who desires to be a real full time slave to an attractive fun loving, San Francisco area lumber-jack type, 40, who is into paddling, piercing, shaving and continual training of his healthy growing, boot-dog slave. Box B51

SANTA CRUZ Aquarius, 52, 5'11", 190 lbs., white 6%". Knowledgeable, seeks lover & 634" exhibitionist n ude house slave. Must be obedient and eager to please with a tight ass, a good cocksucker, and rimmer. Good tit sucker, body hair will be shaved, under 50. No role switching, no one night stands, drinkers or smokers, also no dopers, hustlers, freeloaders or jailbirds. No photo no reply. Box 1298.

SAN FRANCISCO, W / M 31, 5'11" 170 lbs., enjoys hot times, groups. One to one. w / s, FF (top), Leather / Levi, Fantasies, phone, other., Prefer w / m 21-35, within S.F. Area. Photo & Phone gets response. Your fantasy is my challenge. Chuck Box A98

SAN FRANCISCO ASS GAMES

Spread eagled, maybe tied down, spread eagled, maybe tied down, enemas, butt plugs, Dildoes, Vibrators, Spreaders, Hot oil, balls balloons and other toys, Maybe even a cock or a tongue … Your hole and / or mine … I'm 26, 5*10", 155 lbs., Brown hair, gr Send a description or photo of your favorite toy & tell me how you like to use it. Box 1277

BORN TO SERVE

This w / m bottom, 31, 5'10", 160, cut and pierced, is looking for the right top, 30-45, to serve life commitment is my goal. Into Leather, S&M, B&D. Gary, Box 16104, Long Beach, CA 90806

MASTER WANTED L.A. AREA arrogant goodlooking guy 22, brown hair, green eyes, with hunky body, seeks training and guidance from a patient yet firm Master. You are experienced , assertive, uninhibited, indiscreet and into leather, levis, jock straps, S&M, B&D, Living orders, WS, ass eating and other hot raunchy games. Please Sir, break me in, and use me as you wish. Write with photo and letter if possible to Clay Randall, P.O. Box 594, Montebello, CA 90040. Poss Rel/ with right Master.

HOT M, 40, 5'10", uncut. Experienced piercer or piercee, needles, S&M, C&B, Bondage. Most far out kinky scenes in my fully equipped playroom. George Box 5641, Hunt. Bch., CA 94646

SAN FRANCISCO 32, white dog slave seeking to be collared / chained. caged, owned, by honcho to 40, sta-together leather Master / Lover. No heavy S&M, dope, filth. Photo & phone to Ken, 540 O'Farrel St. #605, San Francisco, CA 94102

SAN FRANCISCO MASTER SEEKS: submissive, white slave to take tor- ture, B&D. Master is age 42, of German-Irish descent, 200 lbs., 6'3" size 11 feet to step on slave, strong. Your limits respected. You can trust Master. Box 1332

SAN FRANCISCO W / M, 6', 152 lbs., 34, 81 / 2" Hard, into having my cum-piss stained jock sucked dry Sweaty balls, arm pits, crotch ass and all to be licked. Into pissing into jock straps while being blown. Also into showing off my dick in public places that are discrete late at night. Will exchange jocks all over U.S. Photo in Jock and Phone # a must. Box 1292.

WANTED

W / M, Hot young (18-35) Topmen into B&D, S&M, W / S, Levis, Leather, Jocks, Master / Slave Games, face-sitting , fucking, ass play (no FF), and in need of head to toe service in hot masculine encounters. I'm a good-looking w / m, 46, 6', 185 lbs., with trim beard & moustache and with brown hair and blue eyes, send photo. Box 1320

BEARDED OR MOUSTACHED FACE-SITTERS WANTED. I'm 39. 5'10", 140 lbs., bearded, and have no age or race restrictions. Write Horst Box. 101SF

W / M, masculine, husky hunk 49, 235 lbs., virile, experienced, 6'3" wants macho studs near my size, 30 plus only. Into tit play, body contacts. One on on e possible. California bodybuilders, cowboys, leathermen, etc. reply to Box 170.

ITALIAN, 26, 5'10", 170 lbs., Hairy Chest, Very Attractive inexperienced looking for a top man for FF, Dildoes. Your place, Phone. S.R., 6467 Van Nuys Blvd. #381, Van Nuys, CA 91401

MAIL YOUR AD EARLY

Answering a Drumbeat ad is easy, but the few rules we have are hard and fast, so observe them or else. Seal your letter in an envelope on which you have written the box number in pencil. You can write the box number on the back flap of the envelope. Put your return address on the envelope if you wan

Daywalas

15 Harriet Street . San Francisco, California 94103 Anyone corresponding with advertisers must comply with all local, state and federal laws. No advertisements accepted from persons under age 21. Drummer Publications will

I declare that I am over 21 yrs. old and that the data in my ad is true and correct. I understand that no proofs of ad will be supplied to me for my approval and I waive all claims regarding accuracy of reproduction, due to mistakes or technical failure. I understand that Drummer Publications is in no way responsible for any transactions between myself and any person I contact through their publications.

SAN FRANCISCO-S / M, 41, 6'1". 175 lbs., white, 8" cut, looking for some heavy scenes. Can endure much in either role and wants no-nonsense partner who knows what he is doing. If you're a man, work me over. S&M, B&D, new ideas. Dork, 625 Post Street, #549, San Francisco, CA 94109

TITS AND ASS

LOS ANGELES. 40s, stocky hairy body, shaved head wants bun warmers and warmees for long, reciprocal spanking, tit-pinching, enemas, and more. Prefer mature, clean non-smokers who'd rather do it than talk about it, want to expand limits for both os us. Box 709

S / M SAN FRANCISCO

Looking for biker or leatherman for permanent relationships. P.O. Box 4244, San Francisco, CA 94101

HARDASS UNRULY CANINE MUTT WANTED with thick, uncut cockmeat, hot-boiling , low-hangin', cum-filled nuts by Black honchuo lustin' to collar- /leash, break / train as bootdog toilet slave animal. Need boot / cock-hungry , piss-thirsty maverick hunk. Submit to C / B torture, crotch shaving , humiliation. White bootdog ONLY who needs / wants to be hog-tied / roped by its slave animal nuts ane ridden hard needs write. Photo- /phone for prompt reply. Box 988

OAKLAND. Need your cock and balls bound and tortured? I am the one who can do it for you. Write with details and photo to Box 19065, Oak-land , CA 94619

NORWALK S looking for 18-30 who is willing to serve and can take what I dish out. I am 23, 5'6", 125 lbs. Box 706.

THREEWAYS / GROUP SEX

San Francisco: Obedient slave and his hunky Master looking for hot levi- /leather studs into threeways and group sex. Well-equipped toy chest. No heavy drugs. Your photo gets ours. Box 876.

S.F. BLACK LEATHER / BOOTS

Masculilne S, w / m, 34, 5'11", 185 lbs. dressed in full leather, looks hot and smells good. If you are a slender w / m under 34, like good music, a firm hand, a hard cock, have a job, then get on your fucking knees and write. Don't expect a long reply from me, I want to meet you instead. Absolutely no flabs, fems, stupids or hard drugs. Box 854

ASS-KISSING, boot-licking sexy stud, 5'11", 170 lbs., mid 30's likes to take crap from blond beast brutes who think they are King-Shit-On. Box 1327

Whipping Sessions wanted with leather / uniform men. Have experience both as bound cocksucking slave and as booted heavy whip wielder. I am uncut, thick cock for heavy sucking. Age 36, 175 lbs., 6', bearded. Box 841

KINKY FILTHY HOT

31, 5'7", 130 lbs., w / m looking for hot, totally uninhibited guys who enjoy mutual play. Am mostly Master, but can switch with right person or play both simultaneously. Into S&M, B / D. W / S, scat Leather, wet and raunchy Levis and jock straps, outdoor scenes, exhibitionist. Active FF, to give, receive or both. Spankings. whippings, boots, some rubber. Ready to explore any other experiences . Box 162.

SAN FRANCISCO, Master, W. 25, 5'11", 180 lbs., visiting Frisco next summer. Want to meet willing slave into prolonged bondage, rope, mild S&M, C&B restraint. Young, trim, goodlooking slave to show me the city by day and at night submit to bondage. NO drugs, fats, fem, scat. If too much body hair, it will have to come off. Send photo. Box 683.

SAN FRANCISCO MASTER, 41. 5'9", 140 lbs., experienced in bondage , FF, WS, boots, S&M. Respectful of limits, willing to experiment. Fully equipped game room. Box 239

LATRINE DUTY

San Francisco bottom, 36, 6'3", 165 lbs., 81 / 2" uncut, looking for white beergut leather master for toilet initiation , use me as a latrine, piss-soaked jocks sucked dry, also into levis and leather, bondage, shaving, recycled beer from cheesy uncut cocks. Box 562.

PIGS WANTED

San Francisco. Two hot pig farmers, both w / m. S: 37, 5'8", 140 lbs., 7" cut. M: 40, 5'11", 155 lbs., 8" cut. Have sty, toys. FFA, WS, enemas, tits, ass eating and other games. Photo gets photo. Write Troy, Box 31701, S.F., CA 94131. No scat.

EXTRA-HUNG

S.F.: Is that you, buddy? Is your dick extra-long and / or extra-thick? If you're ever been told "it's too big," and you know that it IS a whopper, if you're frustrated by dudes who can't handle you, then you want to meet me. I'm 29, 5'11", 160 lbs., ex-porno actor, hunky, gdlkg, hot ass, insatia- ble appetite. And if you're a young, super-hung horny dude, into fucking a hot ass with that meat of yours, plus any other raunchy action (except FF) write with a pic. I'm for real, man. Box 100.

SAN FRANCISCO: Particular Master , 32, seeks 19-22 leather, levis & barefoot type for bottom role in light S&M sex, traveling companion into outdoors activities, possible S role toward 3rd parties with masterful supervision. Box 789

HOT HORNEY HAIRY HUNKY HUNG

L.A. AREA: 46, 5'9", 179 lbs., brown hair, blue eyes, 81 / 2 uncut. Into light S&M, B&D, jocks, leather, WS, TT, FF, JO, fantasy trips. Open to most new scenes. Will answer with phone and photo. Box 349

HOT & READY IN L.A.

Scandanavian man, 33, versatile (very), good body, good looking. Enjoy 3-ways and groups also. Levis, leather, jocks, grease, outdoor scenes. Good men and good sex get same. Box 853

WANTED! BIG MATURE TITS!

P.O. Box 69, Desert Hot Springs CA 92240.

SAN FRANCISCO. Hot bearded man, 39, 59, 6%, 160 lbs., cut, white, into bodybuilding, backpacking and disco. Enjoy leather, military and western attitude. Sexual interests inloude cock and body worship, oil, movies, j / jo, enemas, rimming, W / S, sweat, spit, toys, rope art, occasional FF and B&D (novice but interested). No scat and limited pain mixed equally with affection. Prefer slightly dominant, adventurous but levelheaded partner(s). No fats or fems. Answer with photo for HOT reply. Box 784.

HAYWARD, S, 28, 5'11", 160 lbs., 8%" cut, musculr, goodlooking, looking for attractive, well built guys who are versatile and responsive. No fats, fems, flabby, older, out of shape. Should have good build and be into leather, levis or uniforms. Box 402.

SLAVE DANNY

LOS ANGELES AREA, I am more beautiful in bondage than in freedom , and I will submit to tortures, piercing, shaving, photography to you, Sir, or to groups. I need a Master to be pleased with and proud of me. Box 35.

Super-hot, goodlooking, hung young stud seeks other S studs for challenges in top position. Travel to S.F., NYC, and Chicago often. I am a master who is into other masters. Men who can handle competiton are welcome. 26, 6', 165 lbs., dark blonde, moustache, 8" cut. For the hottest, try the hottest. Box 674.

ARIZONA STUD TRAVELS for hot scenes, 6', blk / brn,m bearded, crew-cut hung w / m. 30's, 165 lbs. Seek topmen to meter out heavy, bizarre punishment, meatotomy and other C / B / T as well as other semi-ultimate trips, including deep FF and and the rest of your individual desires. The best practitioner will eventually get it all. Reply with phone, please to: Box- holder, P.O. Box 26042, Phoenix, AZ 85068

S / M CIGAR SEX

Hot, masculine w / m, 28, smokes and turns on to cigars. Gets into light B&D, TT, VA, Leather. LA area preferred , but will answer all. Box 334.

Selective Sadist requires muscular masochist. Object: mutual satisfa- 190#. 8" citon. Me: w / m, 38, 6'1". uncut, inventive. You: ready for new adventures. Photo please. Box 817

OROVILLE, 34, 6', 180 lbs., brown- /brown, looking for master who loves leather as I do: feel, smell, taste, sight. I need humiliation, WS, hot j / o, feel, smell of warm / hot leather, scat and piss. I need the right man. W.R. Fiedler, Rt. 2 Box 2498, Oroville, CA 95965.

L.A. FILTH

Tough, hard, beer-drinking, cigar-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, puking, sweating and farting. Gets off with chains, tires, concrete, mud, tools, rubbers and oil. Box 294V8.

SAN FRANCISCO M, 5'51 / 4", 140 lbs. 40, new to leather world, seeks w / m, 25-40, to show the way. Must respect limits; no scat, shaving or piercing. Box 783.

CHAIN ME UP

For the weekend. Don't let me see your face. Shave my head before you hood me. Cover my shaved, belt-marked body with piss & hot wax. Give me nothing to eat but piss & cum (maybe even my own). I need imaginative Master who respects my limits. San Francisco, 44, 6', 170 lbs., w / m. Box 640.

LOS ANGELES, M, hot young animal-w / m, 25, 6'1", 155 lbs. Wants wild leather / levis stud to take this punk to the limit in S / M, B / D, Wax, Cuffs, Collars, and Heavy GR, Come work this punk's ass. Box 997

SAN FRANCISCO MASTER to work you over. Hairy, bearded, crew-cut erotic painter into total oral / anal play. Solid 210 lb. ex-coach expects obedience, digs worship, 61 / 2" cut, blue eyes, 5110" sexual athlete, 52, wants macho partners who know how to serve. Only mentally & emotionally stable jocks seeking total involvement need apply. Relationship , including role-switching possi-Strong ble with right MAN. preference for hairy, red-headed, tatooed truckers and bikers looking for good hot times South of Market. Mellow scenes possible too. Enjoy men of all ages. Willing to train novice. Respects limits but am firm. Push as far as partner's experience permits. For inspection and interview , reply with frank letter and recent photo. Box 493.

HOLLYWOOD

M. 44, 5'6'h", 130 lbs., willing to try anything with the right Master. Prefer S / M, 35-55 in leather, levi, jockstrap. Box 392.

LOS ANGELES, M, w / m, 34, 5'7". smooth, slim, good body, 125 lbs., intelligent, goodlooking m looking for intelligent S. I NEED to serve my man and expect eventually only the limitations my Master has for me. Especially like to serve others for you. I need to be me to properly serve YOU. Box 280.

SAN FRANCISCO MASTER, wants submissive slave to take B / D torture, C / B torture. Master is 6'3", 200 lbs., 42, German-Irish descent, Size 11 Can be feet, strong, handsome. sterm father to so. Slave of Nordic or Celtic descent desried. Wrestlers, swimmers, weight-lifters desired. Master will respect all of your limits! No marks. You can trust Master. Box 1279

SF BAY AREA-27, white, blond / blue, new to leather scene, like to watch the action. Let me watch you make it work, make me a convert. Box A47

RASSLIN'/FIGHTIN'

Fightin' Topman, 28, strong, very hairy, and MEAN thinks S.F. tops are cockless wimps afraid to put their asses on the line in an all-out fight! If you think you're man enough to prove me wrong, let's tangle. No-holds -barred brawl to a definitive submission finish. And after I've whipped your worthless yellow ass, I'll stuff it with my cock and / or fist. Send challenges, photos to Box 816A.LEATHER

TEDDY BEAR

Clean cut, All American, blond quy available to be possessed and collared by one very special Master, who is dominant physically and psychologically and will teach his novice slave how to serve him affectionally. The bear is 33, 5'11", 180 straight-acting , intelligent and totally presentable , as much at home in Brooks Bros. as in bondage. No hard or rough stuff. Tom of Finland type a plus. San Diego area but relocation possible. To claim your bear respond to Box 998.

I want a hot, no-holds-barred, rough-ass time with someone who can be my Master and live up to it! Am bored with "green horns"! Hope the right hunk will contact me. Prefer Macho Blacks or Espanol. Box B13

Continued on p. 57

SAN JOSE, 54, 5'21 / 2", 110 lbs., uncut 6", Virgo Blond Hair, Blue eyes. I like the smell and feel of leather on my body. Not the brutal beating of S&M. No drinking or smoking. Must wear leather, Levis and boots. Write Box A82

SAN FRANCISCO, Heavily tattooed, trim Beard & Moustache, Levi Western Oriented, W / M, 50, 5'7", 134 lbs. firm. 7" Cut, Looking for mellow Macho dude 30 plus to ease him into S&M. Nothing heavy. Letter with Picture , detailing what you'd require appreciated SIR!!!!. Box 1381

ORANGE COUNTY / LONG BEACH, W / M, 38, 6'2", 187 lbs, 7", Bearded, Hairy Novice seeks to correspond and / or meet someone to play with. Inexperienced but willing to try most anything. Prefer Hot, Horney, unhi-bited dudes into sucking, fucking, verbal abuse, variety and Prolonged sessions. Frank letters and photo gets mine. box 1435

LOS ANGELES: White Male Animal slave to be trained and broken as work-horse, needs demanding male Master or Masters with facilities to use him as such on occasional weekends leading to permanency. To be Stabled, Bitted, Harnessed and worked under Reins and whip. Mature Submissive to all Demands. Box 1263

PALM SPRINGS, S&M, B&D, WS, with w / m, 30, 6', 150 lbs., Blonde Top with good body, will switch roles for right man. Will Travel S. Cal. Phone a must, Photo Appreciated. Box 1262

LOS ANGELES, Hot, Hunky Cowboy , blue eyes, Beard wants to start a Dildo-Club, Interested dudes drop me a line and state sizes and interests . Box 1270

W / m, smooth, in search of firm hand, guidance and training from mature, hirsute, serious Master, willing to consider inexperienced, unfulfilled but needful 31-year-old. My Master commands respect from his person, not his brutality. Bay Area only. Box A19.

BALLS slapped, squeezed, give and receive. Correspond / meet. Box B29

BIG WIDE OPEN

ASSHOLES WANTED L.A. W / M, 31, 5'11", 165 lbs., wants men with hot assholes into FF, huge dildoes, punch fucking, able to withstand several hours of heavy ass play. Serious men only, no J / O. Box 811

SANTA CRUZ: Hot novice m wants to service cut blondes. B&D, TT, leather, toys, shaving. I am w / m, 30, 5'11", 150 lbs., handsome, cut, brown hair, blue eyes, horny, serious, play- ful and versatile. Box B75

HOTTEST ASS IN L.A.

Hot adventurous bottom 30, Hairy, Horny, & high, Into Leather / Levis & Gets it on with smooth Hot toys. guys, Needs Topmen with class to plug this tight little ASS. Box 1252

BODYBUILDER

6', 195 lbs, 30, solid, seeks similar partner. You will manage heavyweight workout gym in No. Calif. Owned by me. Should be contest calibur or working towards same. Will help to relocate. Serious only. No bullshit. Photo required. Box 1274LOS

ANGELES, M. goodlooking, 25. 5'11", 147 lbs., enjoys giving pleasure being totally dominated by intelligent , strong stern topman familiar with positive character forming side of leather sex. Don't write unless you're able to gain control and keep it. In return receive my respect, devotion hero worship and full rights to my body. Box 1272.

YOUNG MAN WANTED

CHICO-Wanted a Young man as partner in raising rabbits and exotic birds. Also another partner in raising Orchids, and exotic plants in solar green houses, and possibly a third partner in raising fish, sheep, pigs, or goats. No experience or money necessary. Room and board included. Good mountain living on the river with fishing and hunting. Ernie, 500 Nimshew Road, Chico, CA 95926

LOVE TO EAT BUTT

LOS ANGELES W / M, 30, love to eat butt. Seek Enema Instructor. You are 27-45. Maybe dark complection. Box 1498

MASCULINE S WANTED

SAN FRANCISCO LIBRA, M. 50, W. 165 lbs., needs Master into 5'8". Leather, Boots, Hood, Heavy into bondage, C&B Torture, Shaving, Piercing, whipping seeks masculine S, who knows what he wants and does it. Photo gets mine SIR. Box 1357

ORANGE COUNTY

Hot hung leather studs who want to bring hot blond blue'eyed cowboy to his knees send photo, details to Box B85

ANY SERIOUS DISCIPLILNE OF SATURN WANTED SAN FRANCISCO—Any serious dis- ciple of saturn wanted by evil- minded w / m, Master, 49, 5'10", 175 lbs., 6½ Fat, Big-headed, Cut for ritual working out of each others needs, however unusual. Bernael, Box 4373, San Francisco, CA 94101

STRANGE MEAT

SAN FRANCISCO GWM, 30, 5'10", 155 lbs., 9"-Seeks Black Leather, tough talkin, hard playiin, bawdy drinkin, hardy laughin, ball stretchin, handy ropin, butt bustin, dude for rough fun. Photo required for response. Single men in San Francisco . Box 1487

TOTAL SLAVE

BURBANK-Slave Danny will submit to bondage, whipping piercing, arm- pits and tits, shaving, photography for parties, groups or one Master. Phone (213) 846-9486, DANNY PAYNE, 241 East Alemeda Ave., Burbank , CA 91502

NOVICE BOXER

ORANGE, CA-NOVICE BOXER into body punches, seeks guys to live out boxing and other fight fantasies. White, 29, 5'11", 145 lbs., Write: Occupant, 180 City Blvd., West Apt. #303, Orange, CA 92668

OLD MUG SHOP LONG BEACH CA specializing in customized and personalized mugs and ashtrays. Club names, individual names, cartoons, dates, any sports, motorcycles, boats, cars, you name it, we can put it on a mug for your drinking enjoyment . $4.00 and up. 826 Redondo Ave., Long Beach, CA 90804 or call (213) 439-3085

SAN FRANCISCO RUBBER FAN

W / M Late 40's, 6" Very Masc. into old style Police / Fire & Workmen heavy black rubber wear seeks mature minded masc, outdoor types anywhere . Free to fly or travel, Have camper, motorcycle & gear. No S&M- Drugs or weirds but nice and clean guys welcome. Box 1472

THREE WAYS-GROUP SEX

LOS ANGELES obedient slave and his MASTER looking for hot Leather / Levi and Uniform Studs into three ways and group sex. S&M, B&D, Dildoes , Fist Fucking and other interests . We have the place. Explicit letter gets immediate response. Box 1469

YOUNG, SLIM, ANY RACE 18-30. Live in good mountain seclusion River, Swimming, Fishing, Hunting, etc. Room & Board Provided, W / M 42 into most scenes. Box 1466

NEW IN SAN FRANCISCO YOUN-GISH DAD-Smart, cigar man, BOY-Trim, Cute, Ass whipped, pushed, Fucked, if good invited to breakfast. Box 1463

HOLLYWOOD BOTTOM, 24, 6', 135 lbs., White, Seeks knowledgeable partner 25-40 into B&D, Light S&M, Toys, etc., Want to try everything once, some more than once. Letters with photos answered first. Box 1462.

CAPRICORN, 48, 5'9", 145 lbs., 6" Eager to learn from one who will teach and train in Piercing. Box 1458

NOVICE

SAN FRANCISCO 27, needs help learning the joys of S&M pleasure. Am 5'10", very hairy, Husky build, 8" cut Novice. Want 25-35, experienced 5'10" or over, caring, patient Teacher, Prefer, Blond, Brown eyes, LEAN! Box 1289

SAN JOSE—Looking for Leather Master into B&D, and some light S&M, I'm 30, 6'1", 160 lbs., DK Brn eyes & Slender in build. No Fats, fems, stupids or Hard drugs. Box B66

MAN EATING SLAVE

SAN FRANCISCO, Hot w / m 24, Will worship your ASS, Cock, Balls, Boots, Nipples, and Arm Pits with my HOT MOUTH. Also dig B&D, W / S, Greek Passive. Photo Apprecaited. Greg Box 1501

COLORADO

DENVER COWBOY needs Leather / Levi Master. P.O. Box 18595. Denver, CO 80218

DENVER AREA

Loves to be bottom. I like all forms of sex and enjoy it most out of doors. Am 33, 5'8", 150 lbs. Well-built men 20-45 who like head jobs and hard fucking write Box A25. No fats.

DENVER, COLORADO W / M, 45, 6', 175 lbs., Submissive Male seeks meetings with other males who enjoy Bondage. Race and age unimportant . I have a desire to please. No drugs or pain, will answer all who send picture and phone number. Box 1409

Colorado Cowboy

Goodlooking, athletic, 25, brown hair, blue eyes, seeks macho cigar smoker. I've got a hairy butt that needs you. Box 542

PLEASE REMEMBER NEW POSTAGE RATES

CONNECTICUT

NEW HAVEN

26, 6'. 170 lbs, br / br beard seeks introduction, guidance to rubber scenes. Prefer older bearded, paunchy, avuncular. Correspondents only, okay complete discretion. Box 1310

SM, 45, 6'3", 190 lbs., 8" cut, well- used ass, looking for tall, well built, well hung studs. Box 965

RASSLIN'

Young, hot, muscular stud, 5'7", 140 lbs., seeks jocks for rasslin'. Box B28

EXPERIENCED LEATHER MASTER Looking for Leather / Levi, S&M slaves. Those who want a dominant Master into Leather, Bondage and many other interesting sexual scenes. Send me your application. Acceptable applicants will be trained to explore new adventures. If you are experienced send me your application also. Box 437.

STAMFORD S with bull whip requires total obedience. Have 91 / 2 to force feed your mouth or ass. Only interested in real men over 20. Box 579.

MUSCLEMEN ONLY

HANDSOME, broad shouldered, hairy men with large biceps and hard pecs up for wrestling, massage and friendship with goodlooking bright young man with slim semi-muscular, tight body. Write: Larry, 504 Orange St., New Haven, CT 06511

HARTFORD GWM, 6'1", 165 lbs., mid 30's, moustached is into sucking cum crusted jeans, hairy armpits, tits, fleshy navels and cut cocks. Can travel. Big, beefy guys a plus. No S&M, drugs or weirdos. Box 1412.

S, 30, 5'11", 180 lbs., husky, hairy, 6" cut, masculine, firm; seeks cleancut slave, 18-35, white, slim or muscular, into bondage and discipline, toys, willing to serve and obey. Box 257

SOUTHERN CONN. MASCULINE HOT AND HORNY W / M, Aries, 42, 5'10", Good body, 162 lbs., with 7" UNCUT. Into motorcycles, boots and really hot sessions, Mostly MASTER but can switch with right person. Ready to explore any other experiences . Box 1477

HARTFORD, 35, W / M, 5'6", 135 lbs., seeks w / m, any age for father / son type discipline. Make me submit to bare-assed spankings across your knee with strap or paddle. Box 1417

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA

NEED TO BE CONTROLLED?

S, 6', 51, 185 lbs., will train slave any age with good body, firm buns, Masculine looks a must. Box 704.

WASHINGTON, DC AREA. M. 38, 5'11", 160 lbs., 30" w., white 6", run- ner / weightlifter. Well-built, lean, muscular. Interested in similar S for erotic S&M, B&D. Box 215.

MD, DC, VA areas

Two Bodybuilders—S, 6'1", 172 lbs., 36, 7½; M, 6'1", 175 lbs., 32, 8"—both well built. Into S&M, bondage, discipline , heavy tit work, hot masculine guys. Interested in one-on-one, three-ways, or groups. Reply with photo if possible and phone. Box 36

WASHINGTON DC AREA W / m, 40. 5'11", 175 lbs., bl / bl, seeks w / m partner 25-40 with facility for D&D, enemas. Can travel Wash.-NY. No fats, drugs, scat. photo requested P.O. Box 23867, Wash DC 20024

FLORIDA

Want to eat from your dog bowl and feel your riding crop. If you have uncut thick cock, hanging balls, a hairy ass for me to eat from, and you are very strict in your demands, please contact me. I am 39, 5'10", 184 lbs., 9" uncut. Box 735

TRAVELING TO ST. PETE & WEST COAST AREA W / M, 30s, Hairy body, clipped beard, 155 lbs., 5'9", would like to contact kinky men into WS, Tit worship, FF, and or mild S&M or B&D, Am an imaginative person. Will be in area late March and April. Write now so I will have enough time to reply. Your photo gets mine. Box 840

MIAMI, Two SM Men want to meet others seriously interested in the idea of mental, physical and spiritual self improvement through Bondage, Discipline and various acts of humiliation . Only those who honestly wish to explore this idea need reply. P.O. Box 651038, Miami, FL 33165

FT. LAUDERDALE: Masculine, imaginative, dominant Master seeks together studs into FF, WS, bondage, S&M, C&B / T, piercing, shaving, for 3-way with in-house slave. Can administer heavy discipline but no permanent damage or Scat Demanding but considerate. Am 45, 165 lbs., 7 cut with big balls and big hands. Box 258

SW FLA. S, Top, leather biker stud. 39, 5'7", 140 lbs., crew-cut, construc- tion worker, heavy-hung, digs masculine only humpy service buddles for long hot leather sessions. No fats, old men, etc. You get my attention if you are into leather, levis, boots, bikes, cigars, aroma, etc. Am dominant and aggressive, sane and sensible . Respect limits. Limited travel ok. Submit qualifications and photo to Box 315

HOT ADVENTURES IN PARADISE Uncut 8 Sm, transplanted San Franciscan , offers hot Key West action of qualified visitors. Hard-bodied, hardheaded , hard-playing 35-year-old welcomes other adventurous studs into exploring and actualizing our mutual fantasies. I'm attractive, intelligent , responsible, muscular and mustached; it takes the same to turn me on. Blonds, big tits, interest in bondage, S&M, CB and tit torture, FF are plusses, but less important than a hot body and sense of adventure. Planning a visit to paradise? Reply (with photo if possible) to Box 792.

SM, Pisces

36, 5'8", 165 lbs., well built, white, 6", knowledgeable, experienced in both roles to go as far as partner's experience permits. Partner should be well built, big, no fats, fems. Box 009

RED-NECK FIGHTER

Muscular young gladiator slave into all types of fighting, wrestling, boxing , etc. Tough, well-built fighters send challenges / photos to: Bud "Maciste" Becher, c / o 5260 N.E. 6th Avenue #B, Ft. Lauderdale, FL 33334.

FT. LAUDERDALE. Part-time slave wanted by Scorpio, trim, athletic. Bondage, discipline, humilation, paddling. Novice or experienced. Must have firm body, smooth ass, very little body hair. Must be intelligent , discreet, youthful. No fats, fems, phonies. Send detailed, honest letter with photo and phone number to Box 881

GET THE JOB DONE

TALLAHASSEE w / m. 24, 5'9", 165 lbs., wants to be trained to serve a master's needs. L / L, uniforms, harnesses . Box 474

MIAMI, w / m, 42, 5'10", 160 lbs., blnd / blu. Show off your tough hard body, with this goodlooking raunch Man. Into workout mates, mirror JO. Piss worship, Sweat. Heavy dildo and Enema action sought and given. Tender young guys expertly taught how to be men. Write w / photo Box #47

HAIRY MACHO MEN

If you're into funky, hot, sweaty sex and are hairy, rugged, rough mas- ters; write me and tell me what you would do to me. This good slave can travel and can receive. Also specializing in WS, S&M, B&D, rimming, Fr and Gr with Mr. Right. Box 59.

Attractive, stable, intelligent man, mid 20s, white, has been exploring sado-masochism several years; wants similar man to mid 30s for honest continuing weekend explorations . Must have come to an understanding that mutual exploration , support, respect, and care are requisite to building the trust and love central to any real sado-masochistic encounter. Not looking for one fantasy fuck. Honest only with a sense of humor should reply. Confidential and expects the same. Central / South-Florida. Prefer Top- /bottom man. Box A37

MOTORCYCLE COPS

Muscular hairy stud, 6', 165 lbs., wants to correspond with motorcycle cops and other MEN into same. Only boot / breech / uniform enthusiasts into disciplined scenes need reply. Discretion assured. Box 111F

WEST PALM, W / M, 33, 5'8", 81 / 2", 200 Seeks handsome, Masculine lbs… and Muscular guys 22-31 for sex, friends, workouts. Possible roommate . Photo & Phone appreciated. Box 1313

Ft. Walton Beach W / M, 26, 5'10", 135 lbs., Seeks other guys 18-23. Am looking for friends and possibly more, possible permanent relationship , not into S&M, B&D, fems or fats. Phone and Photo helpful. Box 1375

SUBMISSIVE

FT. LAUDERDALE, SEEKING HOT MUSCULAR, 20's, loving, but dominant Master. Permanent possible. Am 21, med. built, attractive & Ready. Box 1491

FACE-SITTER NEEDED by blonde dog slave. No scat / Prefer dominant guys with hairy asses. Please, Master, please. Box B87

Masochist / slave, 6'2", 160 lbs., into cock, ball, and tit torture, humiliation , bondage, hot wax, piss, discipline (verbal) and other abuse, force-feeding my mouth and asshole, seeks usage by two Miami cigar-smoking Top Men between the ages of 35 and 45. Box B86

MASOCHIST / SLAVE

6'2", 160 lbs., into cock & Ball and Tit Torture, Humilation, bondage, hot wax, piss discipline, verbal and other abuse Force feeding my mouth and asshole, Seeks usage by two Miami cigar smoking Top Member between the ages of 35-45. Box 1265

HOW DO YOU SPELL HOT? D-R-U-M-B-E-A-T-S

A DRUMBEAT AD GETS FAST RESULTS

GEORGIA

ATLANTA SUBMISSIVE M, 5'8", 180 lbs., 45, Seeks experienced tattooed and pierced masculine bossman 40 to 60 yrs. old. Light S&M, Dildoes, C&B, Toys, Nipple stretching & enlargement, piercing. No Freaks, Fems, Skinnies, or Drugs. Shaved heads preferred.Letter with photo gets mine. Box 1475

GEORGIA, GWM, Cancer, 29, 155 lbs., 5'11", Blue eyes, hairy, moust-ache , goodlooking, active / passive, fr / gr, FF, Dildoes, three ways, versatile . Seeks like minded. Robbie, 98 Peachtree Place, Warner Robins, GA 31093

M, 26, white, 5', 10", 147 lbs., into rough fucking and fist fucking, piss, S&M, B&D, verbal abuse, leather, levis, boots. Seeks meetings or correspondence with aggressive Tops in USA, Europe, Canada, Australia. No fems, scat, scars, or blood. Box 288

ATLANTA MS, Aquarius, 34, 5'8" 135 lbs., white, good body, level head, experienced. Looking for men over 25 into B&D, suspension, tit workouts and similar action. Able to take charge, but prefer not to. Respect for limits assumed, expansion by mutual consent. Box 714

ILLINOIS

BOOKLICKER

CHICAGO, RINGED M, 31, 6'1", 175 lbs., Needs Humiliation and abuse from strong willed cocky Master. Into suspension, bondage, tits, piss, rubber. Write: Wolf, 6636 Newgard St., Chicago, IL 60626

W / M, 31, 5'11", seeks men into B&D and humiliation. Men in underwear especially and longjohns. JWH, 450 Briar Place #8K, Chicago, IL 60657

HOT RAUNCHY SEX

Bondage, fantasy, face-sitting, uniforms , piss, shit, sweat, pain, humili-leather , levis, smelly jocks, ation. uninhibited sex. W / M, 35, 6', 160 lbs., good face / body / voice, always top, but might switch or do mutual pig- /pain scene with right man. From torture to toilets, boot camp to drunken buddies, it's all good. Let's explore. Travel U.S. Box B64.

Discreet young slim bi. Neophyte wanted for gentle anal dildoes or enemas. Also will photo only the most stunning: tattoo, pierce, FF, W / S shave, dog, & outdoor scenes— for your use. Eric & Beth, P.O. Box A-3248, Chicago, IL 60690

HANDSOME Black Male, 44, 5'11" 165 lbs., 81 / 2" Uncut, desires to service well hung guys who are good-looking , clean and preferably, not not necessary, Shoot a large LOAD. Box 1457

FANTASIES FULFILLED

CHICAGO MASTER, White Male, 41, 6'3", 195 lbs., will fulfill your fantasies , Military Discipline, S&M- Franternity Initations, Prisoner, Humiliation, Bondage, Etc. Send photo if possible. All replies answered . Chicago Metropolitan Area only, P.O. Box 2630, CHicago, IL 60690SPRINGFIELD,

S, 54, 5'8", 160 lbs., looking for slave, 21-50, white only. Am experienced, respectful of limits; but can be either extremely sadistic or gentle, based on slaves endurance. Must be clean. Box 382

Chicago, Aries, 29, 6'1", 200 lbs., muscular S, dominant and knowledgeable, 7" cut. Handsome bodybuilder knows how to give orders, knows how to get service, and knows how to punish failure. Potential slave should be submissive, 21-35, obedient , and know his place. No fats. Box 418.

CHICAGO SLAVE

W / M, 27, 5'8", 165 lbs., will serve TV or Master. Take piss, cum in mouth, face sitting toe sucking any kink. Eat ass, suck cock. Swallow all. Box 1326

WANTED: Writer needs input for story tellin'. Der Fledermaus says my fiction lacks authenticity-so tell me the S&M "do's" and "don't's". Brian O'Hara, 4321 W. 95th St., Oak Lawn, IL 60453

CHICAGO w / m, 38, S, 6'3", 180 lbs., 8", seeks friends / slaves 30 or over, in good physical condition with level head. Box 894.

Big young man, 21, 5'10", 234 lbs., br / br, looking for someone to teach me S&M and anything that can be enjoyable. Would like to learn how to be a slave and Master. Please send phone and photo. And let me know what you want to teach me. Dennis, Box 18, Roxanne Trailer Ct., Carbon-dale , IL 62901

CHICAGO-FANTASY

W / M, 28, 5'11", 150 lbs., Horny and Hot. Looking for some to 28. Poppers, smoke, suck, fuck, J / o, FF, W / s, act / passive. Single or couples. Letter and photo to: Brown, 3423 W. Drummond Ave., Chicago, IL 60647

HOT AS A PISTOL

Chicago, hot as a pistol law student very handsome, 22 year old, black BB, 5'4", 125 lbs., I'm right & tough. Tired of the bar? Bath games? I'm into hot, athletic, white guys who know how to fuck and or be fucked. Into most scenes. Love worshipping a nice body and love my body worshipped as well. If you're into hot body, a liberal and want to fuck with a man as it's supposed to be done, write me at 6214 N. Winthrop, #510, Chicago, IL 60660. Thanks Buddy

NEED HAIRY-CHESTED SADIST CHICAGO: to work me over in heavy scenes for mutual pleasure. Cigar smoker a plus. Cock, balls, tit piercings : Fisting, Ball Busting, etc., I am 6'1", 190 lbs., 37 years, with 81 / 2" cock. In good shape. Box 1371

CHICAGO SOUTH WEST SUB. W / M, 32, 190 lbs., 6'1", Likes to receive rim jobs and have my cock sucked. I like to fill your ass with my cock. Send photo. No fats. Fems OK. Write John, P.O. Box 607, Tinley Park, IL 60477

CHICAGO-COUPLE into FF, B&D, seek like-minded men for three ways, group action. Top-34, 5'4", 120 lbs.; Bottom-27, 6', 140 lbs., 6", Reply with photo gets ours, Only serious minded MEN need reply, box 1340.

SLAVE FOR SALE AND / OR RENT 5'10", 195 lbs., Brown hair, Blue Eyes, 3-1-46. Extra strong body and spirit, S&M, B&D, W / S, etc. Not used Strong Master could train often. Right. Send your requirements. Box 1426

FOX RIVER GROVE-THE GAS HOUSE SALOON), It's where I go til 4:00 am, Wild on Week-ends Send photo I'll find you and then we'll talk. P.S. this is a somewhat straight bar, but even the president needs passion. Box 1500

CHICAGO-White, 34, 5'6", 140 lbs., Cock, Top wants other tops or aggressive bottoms for extended, multi-scene Action sucking, fucking, rimming, Jocks, J / O, W / S, Fist Fuck-ing , and Ball Work. More body HAIR the better. Letters with photos gets same-pronto. Box 1460

INDIANA

INDIANAPOLIS. M, 49, 5'10", 170 bs., 61 / 2", white, inexperienced, Will make up in obedience what I lack in experience. Seeks sincere, understanding and knowledgeable Master to bring out the best in me. Will try anything once. Can travel to surrounding states. No blood and no scat. Photo please. Box 833

GENERAL MAN WANTED

Black male, 22, 5'11", 138 smooth body bright nice looking, sincere guy seeks generous man capable of compassionate carrying and in a position to offer help to a special person, school future, will travel, discreet, age-color not important please submit letter and photo (retd) S.H.C. P.O. Box 44775 Indianapolis, IN 46204SLAVE

TRAINING

Manly, experienced MASTER, 40, 160 lbs., lean, musuclar, will 5'11" train YOung novice slave(s). I administer discipine in form but caring way. Reply only if you are serious and can come here. Box 15524, Fort Wayne, IN 76885

EVANSVILLE, W / M 30, 5'11", 175 lbs., Bearded and Hairy. Seeking big- muscled men into flexing, Body Massage and body contact. Box 1254

IOWA

IOWA MASTER, 6', lean, white, seeks. permanent slave for complete physical & mental training, naked bondage & submission. Must be lean or muscular , hairless in body and ready for slavery in mind. Send photo, application , & phone to Box 979.

DES MOINES-TWO MEN, Mid 30's Seeking three-ways and group. Willing to try anything once. State interests . Photo preferred. Write J.J., P.O. Box 4675, Des Moines, Iowa 50306

IOWA SLAVE AVAILABLE

Young slave 21, 6', 155 lbs., considered good looking. In need of training from dominant man any age. B&D, S&M, W / S. Am receptive and obedient. Box 1485

KANSAS

STOCKING FOOT FETISH

KANSAS CITY, MO AREA, GWM, 42, 155 lbs., Brn / Brn, Wants to worship your feet. Into mutual J / O Box 1482

KANSAS CITY MASTER, Affectionate Scorpio uncut 8", 5'8", 145, solid, prefer small slim white 20-40, Greek passive, Fr a / p, Live in lover / slave who needs to be owned, possessed for permanent relationship-with no hang ups-Respect limits. Box 1318

FOOT WORSHIPPING

KANSAS-LEATHER AROMA of a guy's STOCKING FEET, K.C., MO., GWM, 42, 155 lbs., Brn / Brn, Wants to worship your feet. Into mutual J / O. Box 1481

ANSWERING AN AD? See instructions on the first page of this section

KENTUCKY

MASTER SEEKS SLAVE

Lexington, S. 38, 5'11", 175 lbs. experienced in all scenes. All limits considered. Must have firm body and have your head on. If you are ready, write now. Box 986, Lexington, KY 40588

LOUISIANA

MONROE, 33, white, 6', 175 lbs., seeks w / m, 25-40. Am primarily M into father / son type discipline with bondage. Will assume S role for proper M. Box 332

LOVE TO MAKE LOVE

HAMMOND, W / M College Student, 21, 6', 175 lbs., Can travel to New Orleans or Baton Rouge on Weekends . Love to make love. I'm your man, would like also to explore S&M, with experienced personnel. If you are sincere, honest and a human being, write me, including photo. No fats, fems, or blacks, Bob. Box 3086; SLU, Hammond, LA 70402. Response promised.

MAINE dudes from northern Maine woods into all scences: groups, FF, WS, J / O, tit and ball torture, bondage, voyeurism , smokes and aroma; ready for hot, kinky action. Come visit, write or call. Your photo gets ours. Les Quebecois sont surtout les bienve-nus . Box 796

PORTLAND, SM couple seeks third or other couple in Portland ME. Master is 6'1", slim, uncut and demanding . Slave is 5'10", cut and pierced. Box 1329

MARYLAND

BALTIMORE-ANNAPOLIS AREA, S. 38, 5'10", 170 lbs., Bearded, hung, goodlooking,firm but understanding . Seeks slaves for long sexual sessions in equipped den. All scenes. other tops welcome to share slaves. Letters with photo gets answered. Box 1410

White male, 45, 5'5", 160 lbs., Bottom looking for top. No scat, FF, or dope. All else ok. Blacks or whites. Max Gertson, 9 Manchester Place, Silver Spring, MD 20901

BALTIMORE or Washington DC area. SM (either role), into L / L, WS, CBT / T, B&D, strap, FFA, no scat. Apply with picture stating desires. Frequent visitor to Chicago, L.A., S.F. Box 855

NOVICE

BALTIMORE AREA, M, 5'11", 180 lbs., 6" cut, seeks sincere understanding , experienced and knowledgeable master to bring out ability to serve. Am willing, obedient, and eager to learn. Some US travel. Box 128

HAGERSTOWN, W / M, 35, 6'1", 170 lbs., bodybuilder looking for other masculine well-built bodies. Must be totally male. Box 36

BALTIMORE AREA. M / S, 5'8", 160 lbs., interested in meeting locals or in general for active relationship. Into most anything. No fats, fems, beards, moustaches a plus; hairy body a plus. Must have intelligence and ability to swing both ways. Willing to bring out and teach. Box 855.

RUNNER / BODY BUILDER

DC-MD-VA, 37, 5'11", 160, 30" waist. Rugged, well-built, lean, muscular, defined, together, feeling, human, Interested in similar physical masculine type only. S / M if erotic. Photo exchanged. J.W., Box 55029, F Wash. P.O. Oxon HiLL, MD 20022 Ft.

MASSCHUSETTS

BI-WHITE SLAVE

31, will serve all. Dig poppers, jocks, groups. No FF or scat. Write Box-holder , Box 683, Methuen, MA 01844

HIDE TANNING: NEW ENGLAND / NY

W / M, 5'9", 34, 150 lbs., seeks to hear from you if you need to have your hide tanned and attended to. Disciplined and understanding. Also seek contact with other tanners in search

CAPE CODE, S, 52, 6', Taurus, 200#, well muscled, tough, uncut, into B&D, W / S, shaving, FF, and all kinds of anal entry, enemas and other sports. Seeks white slave, 18-40, totally submissive, for prolonged long-term service. No drugs, fats, or fems. Must be able to endure moderate to heavy pain, ball torture, tit piercing, prolonged immobilization, butt abuse, body whipping. No cryb-abies , softies, or thrill-seekers need apply. I am looking for a serious slave who craves punishment, abuse, humiliation, and expects nothing but pain, torment, and discomfort in return. Box 790.

EXPERIENCED TOPMAN

46, 5'9", 160 lbs., seeks L / L partners over 25. Beards or moustaches a plus. Box 721

BOSTON; Bearded w / m, mid-30s, versatile and imaginative, 5'9", 155 lbs., uncut, hairy body; turned on by tit work, w / s, ass work, and foot licking . Seeks men of same interests. Willing to expand. Box 840

REAL SLAVE

GOODLOOKING. M, 29, needs serious Handsome MASTER desiring to own a slave / dog as his property and for his pleasure. Box 1256

G. W / M, 55, 6', 175 lbs., Full head of Grey hair loves to both give and receive large three to four over time enemas. Also greek passive and like to have a Fist up my ass. I want to meet like minded men over 40 any race o.k. Box 1415

BOSTON & N.E. AREA- M, 33, 5'8", brown hair & eyes. SIR, I wish to serve erotic Leather Man as his slave in Leather Bondage with toys collars, hoods, C&B, W / S, serving your needs, desires & expanding my limits . No heavy S&M, FF, Shaving, Piercing, scat. Sir, thank you for your consideration. Box 1431

YOUNG ATTRACTIVE, REASONA-BLY SANE GAY MAN, Would like to meet other versatile man who has enough confidence in himself, not to need toys all the time. However since we can't always get what we want I'll settle for Hot one nighters. P.O. Box 426 Back Bay Annex, Boston, Mass. 02116

NOVICE, Voyeur looking for involvement , w / m, 40, 6'1", 180 lbs., needs well-built Master to train my yearnings to serve and be freed of inhibitions . Must be tough and gentle, into Leather or tight levis. Need titwork, Bondage. I'm a challenge, but sure to be worth it. Picture appreciated. Box 1476

BOSTON PISS FREAKS WANTED BY:

BEARDED W / M, 30 6'2", 185 lbs., 71 / 2" Cut. Full of warm beer for mutual flow, Box 1489

MICHIGAN

DETROIT W / M, 47, 5'8", 175 lbs., SM, B&D, Solid and very hairy all over. Bottom / passive for lots of bondage- /disc. Particularly enjoy dundgeons, jails, cells and barns in bondage. Like grass, poppers, etc., enemas, dildoes , greek a / p, french a / p…All kinds of fettishes. No scat, and sometimes piss. No smokers and light drinkers. I have lots of toys and can entertain and welcome visitors especially from out of state. All races please, Sirs. Chain me up and rape my ass or gang bang me. Box 1290

DETROIT White, hard-muscled topman , 33, 5'9", 155 lbs., looking for stud under 40, top / bottom, to serve as right hand man in discipline sessions with butch slave, 22. Let's belt his tight buns, ride him at both ends, soak him in piss, and enjoy a beer as he worships our bodies in gratitude. Have sling, also video equipment for voyeuristic cameraman. Photos, exchanged / returned. Box 899

BARN BOY NEEDS FARM KEEP ADONIS, 6'2", 190 lbs., white, smooth muscular body seeks keep from handsome farmer or rancher in echange for labor. Some farm experience . Will go anywhere. Discipline, restraints, hard dirty work, ragged clothes, gruel, filthy quarters sought. Box 1377

METRO DETROIT Hot bearded top wants equally hot bottom for "DRUMMER" type scenes. I'm 31, 5'10", 155 lbs., 61 / 2 cut, Experienced. You must be masculine, and ready to please and serve me. Role switching possible for right stud. Box 1402

MICHIGAN BI-MARRIED MEN's Support / Social Group. Detroit / Pon-tiac area educated, responsible, sincere , husbands / fathers: to form a close relationship with similar guys. Confidentiality, discretion assured and expected. Send infor, request for personal interview to P.O. Box 624, Pontiac, MI 48056

SLAVE NEEDS TRAINING

White male, 26, 6', 160 lbs., 8", into oral service. Western types, feet, will beg to serve well-endowed Master 18-35. Write Steve, P.O. Box 123, Roseville, MI 48066. Photos answered first. White or Black.

INTIMATE FRIENDSHIP, Y / W / Bi / M, 6', 170 lbs., handsome, virile, hung, married, educated professional seeks similar area guys (Detroit) for mutual stimulation-mind / body-versatile . No fats, fems, S&M, kinky. Send info, description, photo to Box 624, Pontiac, MI 48056 with SASE.

TAYLOR, MS, Capricorn, 24, 5'10", 165 lbs., white, 6 1 / 2", novice. Eager to learn from and submit to the right S. Will serve Master totally. Box 261.

ROCHESTER, S, 61 / 2, 5'10", 160 lbs… white, 8", firm Master with well-equipped dungeon seeks obedient slaves. Willing to train submissive novices. Into S&M, B&D, W / S, and more. Write: Robert, 1030 Adams Road South, Rochester, MI 48063

MASTER understands your needs. Time for talk and time for action. Thumb area professional. Michigan. Tom Proctor, Box 104, Cass City, MI 48726

SOUTHFIELD, 46, 6', 160 lbs., German S, muscular, 7" uncut; seeks novice who would be interested in exploring and growing; with limits respected. No drugs, fats, fems. Hairless body, tight physique a plus. Box 468

MT. CLEMENS AREA, w / m, 58, 6'5", 180 lbs., looking for M 18-28 for Father / Son relationship. I want to worship, spank when necessary. Prefer Live-In. Have nice apartment. Box 1316

ANN ARBOR, W / M, 33, goodlooking, seeks real Masters who can handle a hot, horny slave, 6', 160 lbs., Need discipline, bondage, suspension and anything else to please. Will serve as only the best can. Dig FF, W / S, B / D, TT anything else imaginative-especially in game room. Photo appreciated. Charles, 2786 Glen-bridge , Ann Arbor, MI 48104

LEATHER, Bondage, Boots, Uniform . Lover needs a Dominant Man. Box 1255

WAYNE COUNTY AREA, white slave, 21, needs Master, any race, any age. Into anything and everyting. No limits. You call all the shots. Ready and willing, Sir. Box 826

DETROIT W / M 38, 5'6". 140 lbs… Good body, Hairy and hung (especially thick) Needs hunky deep throats and hot and wild receptive ASSES with good tight bodies to age 40. FF, Bondage, toys, tits, fun and good times. No fats or fems. Here or there. Photo preferred. Box 351, Far-mington , MI 48024

DETROIT AREA, HOT MUSCULAR BODYBUILDER, 47, 5'9", 180 lbs., Fr a / p, Gr a / p, Wants Well built, Mascu-lar Hunks (including Lovers for three-ways), 25-45. Into Jocks, Levis, Hot Scenes, Tit work (yours), Mutual exploration. Your Muscles turn me on, mine turn you on. No dirt, Scat, Include Phone, Photo (if possible). Box 1468

HUNG MEN SOUGHT:

DETROIT-30, 6', 175 lbs., 7" Attractive, seeks similar Hung men 18-43. Hot Photo Gets Mine. But not necessary. Explicit Letter please. Box 1495

HOT NOVICE

DETROIT-Hot novice bottom, W / M, 33, 6'0", 170 lbs., wants to exchange hot correspondences. Share experiences fantasies with other M's and serve Masterful Studs by mail. Can meet interesting sane local people. Box 21413, Detroit, MI 48221

MINNESOTA

TOILET FACE SITTING

MINNEAPOLIS, SM, Taurus, 31, 5'11", 7", bearded Bottom for piss & scat. I love leather and kinky scenes, looking for filth freak. Into shaving, light S&M, B&D, tit work. Can also go top. Write Al, Box 476, Minneaplis, MN 55440

WANTED: UNCUT WHITE TOP MAN

40-70. Grizzled, masculine white cocksucker must live with, worship and suck; one tought, straight, nonreciprocating , obscene fuckin' son of a bitch. Full time, cowboys, farmers, lawmen, hard hats, others welcome, like boots levis, Leather, piss, THICK peckers, clean assholes. Will relocate . Photo / Phone. Box 1261

W / Male, 43, 6'1", 165 lbs., seeks slave or prisoner who needs tit, cock, & balltorture. Box 356

MASTER WANTED

Minneaplis: White, 25-yr., handsome, masculine slave, 5'11", 150 lbs., light brown hair, green eyes, dark beard-hot & horny, 71 / 2", Leo. I am ready to serve-white-28 to 40 years stud. I would prefer only tall, dark hairy muscular masters. Beards, moust-aches , & big manly tool a plus. Let me serve you and worship you, obey you and love you. I dig all leather (gear & scenes) and am into body worship, j / o, dirty talk, posing, oil, cockrings, jocks, all boots & gym gear. I beg you-Please, Sir, help this hot, wanting slave find an owner. Letters to Box 560

MPLS. Would like to meet men who like to fuck, are into bondage. Cowboys , truckers, all Men who are well hung and know what they want. No Fats. Box 825

WELL BUILT MASTER WANTED … MINNEAPOLIS SUBMISSIVE MALE would like to meet all Masculine and well built MASTERS inot Bondage and discipline. Please respect limits but with a firm and strong hand. Please write to this obedient slave. Box 1484

MISSOURI

S MONK SEEKS DISCIPLE M

Leather master will instruct you using strict monastic obedience, humiliation, discipline, penitence, poverty, labor, silence, cloister, devotion. You will learn sign language , have name changed, head shaven. If you pass the novitiate you will be professed Usque As Mortem. You cannot serve two masters. This is definitely a total commitment to eat my cock and drink my piss, not a pious meditation. Vocation to serve? Apply with aspirations and photo. Many are called but only one is chosen. Box 363.

ST. LOUIS w / m, 6'1", 165 lbs., 8" uncut, very hairy all over, knowledgeable, masculine, dominant and aggressive yet quiet, straight-acting and appearing, seeks other hairy masculine dudes into mutual give and take working over cock, tits, balls, assholes with uniforms, jocks. No scat or shaving. Any age, eager to explroe. Box 886

Young slaves may apply to versatile 6' bodybuilder (180 lbs.) for servitude stating qualifications along with photo. Various scenes possible and rewards given for excellent service. Located in St. Louis area. Box 159M

ST. LOUIS W / M, 40, 6', 158 lbs., Uncut, Cancerian Versatile, Hot, Goodlooking Macho Dude. Into most scenes except scat, FF and heavy pain. Enjoy worshiping a beautiful body and cock, servicing a cock completely, and I mean completely. Looking for oversexed hot dude 21- 45 who likes his cock royally taken care of. Your photo gets mine. Box 64

ST. LOUIS W / M, 6'2", 175 lbs., needs Hairy studs. Can go either way, rough and hard or otherwise. This tongue is wild and will clean out everything from assholes to armpits. Tit work a specialty. My hungry ass will take anything you have. Your photo gets mine. Box 1479

ERIE JOHN: I know you're out there. Please contact your Kerovac in Missouri , and make the summer Hot. Box 1474

PLEASE REMEMBER NEW POSTAGE RATES

NEBRASKA

HI BOOTED RANCHER

52, 6', 190 lbs., Digs Leather, Travel, Photographs, wants leather booted Master to use me for this please. No Scat or FF. Will answer all. Del John-son , RR Box 15, McLeon, NE 68747

Cornhusker Maverick needs tamin', 5'4", leather-levi, hornier than hell, like my sex rough and hard, need a good Master. If you think you're man enough to break me. Box 496

Master 56, 5'8", 150 lbs., Seeks slave 18-26, slim to learn and expand limits . Have toys for Cock and Balls. Box 1373

Age from 21 to 60, some leather, some verbal abuse, modeling scene. Box B30

SOUTH EAST NEBR-W / M. 40. 6'1" 180 lbs., Uncut, Looking for hot sex, enclosed photo 18-45. Box 1459

NEVADA

JEFF TANNA IN VEGAS

I'm Dan's younger brother, and I won't disappoint you. Believe it. (702) 798-7643

NEW JERSEY

SLAVE NEEDS MASTER

NJ Only. Novice, 32, 5'10", 135, smooth, clean-shaven, needs tall lean Master. I'll try to please. No scat, heavy pain, scars, FF. Box A28

MORRISTOWN, S. 41, 6'2", 190 lbs., white, 7" cut, hairy body. Quiet, natural , down to earth, not into game playing, mental or fantasy trips. Easy going but demanding and experienced no-nonsense type of Master but one who understands the value of TLC. Seeks the services of a good slave, especially oral, 20s to 30s, for weekends of possible permanent live-in relationship. Enjoy giving light workouts to a good body but will respect limits at all times. Willing to train novice. No drugs, fats, fems. Box 520.

CENTRAL JERSEY w / m, 39, 6 ft., 175 lbs. tattooed, bodybuilder, leather stud, Harley rider with fifteen years experience as sadist with private game room wants to hear from willing slave sages 25-40; limits respected and expanded. No reply without picture, which gets mine. Write to P.O. Box 13, Frenchtown, NJ 08825

NEW YORK

MANHATTAN, Black man, 50, seeks white, non fat slave who uses his submissive head for thinking, sucking cock, drinking my piss, wanting his tits tortured, enjoying having his mouth fucked and performing total oral service for my black cock regularly . A guy who gives me his greatest asset his head, in service, allegiance. Love and communion. Box 510

WORK MY BALLS OVER anyway direction Larry Townsend's ultimate, scene. Am experienced W / M, 40, 5'11", 150 lbs., Moustached also into nipples and FF. Mutual scenes with real man animals possible . Box 1368

NEW YORK CITY W / M, 28, 5'7", 140 lbs., Clean shaven, Imaginative, seeks to be controlled by a Dominant top. I have a lot to learn and would like to meet someone with teaching ability 25-40. Box 1370

YES SIR-NEW YORK SLAVE

Danish Leather Stud 40-Masculine well built, visit New York in May 81. Seeks Real Hot Action Leather Master for discipline and Leather-Rubbers sex. I have a strong sex drive, into Leather, rubbers, masks, chains, titwork, piss, smoking, poppers and trips. Like to be worshipped in your leather, and the aroma of leather and rubbers turn me on, let's find out how far this can take us. Like all kinds of sex and like to learn more. My master must be over 35. I am waiting for a hot letter. Box 1372

SEX-agenarian!

Libra, M. 6'3", 170 lbs., mid-60's, white-haired, blue-eyed man of distinction type, would serve muscular masculine male of any age or race, who enjoys imaginative games with older man. Will do almost anything for right partner. Box 290X

MANHATTAN, S, 35, 6'4", blonde. Have 6'3" muscular slave, 30. Am accepting applications for second slave. Must submit to heavy S&M, B&D and video taping. If you are young, muscular, and attractive, send photo with qualifications at once. Box 673.

PIGGY RAUNCH

Versatile NYC Chelsea w / m, Scor- pian, 33, 5'7", 130#, 7" cut, for uninhibited scenes. Heavy ass play (FF). L / L. W / S. scat. locks, sweat, oil, shaving tits, c / b torture, boots, and socks with real creative men into role switching. Willing to explore new realms. No overweights or fats. Beards a plus Include photo and scene. Box 703

PUPPY SEEKS BULLDOG

Hot Italian, 28, 5'9", 175 solid lbs., seeks beer-bellied brutes who enjoy a butch dog collared slave. Seek stocky, chunky, 5'7" to 5'10", 180 to 225 lbs., dominants who groove on service. Write with photo-returned -to P.O. Box 3058 Church Street P.O., NYC, NY 10008.

QUEENS, NYC, mature M, scorpio bottom man, 5'7", 145 lbs., hairy body, bald but bearded, seeks mature top Master for discipline and heavy titwork, FF, WS, scat. Jock straps, hairy bodies, black beards, stocky builds turn me on. No role switching or skinny blondes, Box 306.BUFFALO, w / m, 27, 5'9", 185 lbs., 7" uncut, SM, Aquarian, seeks knowledgeable master into L / L, who is respectful of limits. Am into S&M, B&D, etc. Master in tight leather, tall polished boots and into bikes are sure turn on. Are you ready to train me? Send photo and phone for prompt reply. Box 404BNY.BUFFALO. w / m, 42, 6'11 / 5", 174 lbs., uniforms, leather, levis. Novice, but wants to learn. Will answer all, travel. Box 715.

WRESTLERS STREET FIGHTERS

28, 6'2", 190, w / m; Topman wants to meet submissive young dudes into no-holds-barred, L / L, jock, wres- tling. Also want to hear from other Tops into same. Box 804A

NEW YORK CITY, goodlooking, sta- 150 lbs. ble guy, 33, Leo, 5'11", wants to meet men wearing high, soft leather cavalier boots, lace up mocassins, or pro wrestling boots-Will also buy your sweaty socks. Am senzual, exotic, and passive. Box B81.NYC:

LEATHER MASTER / SADIST

35, 6'4", with 6'3" Muscular slave abuses, brands, Chains, Dominates, Enslaves, Fists, gags, handcuffs, Imobilizes, jams, kicks, lashes, manhandles , nails, orders, pierces, quells, Ropes, shaves, Tortures, uses, Videos, whips and X-Y&Z, nails, orders, pierces, lopes, shaves, Tortures, attractive youthful slaves. Submit Photo with detailed application. Box 673

HOUSEBOY FOR SALE:

Will take care of your home. Need owner with a strap who will keep me naked, chained, and shaved. Use me for Hard labor, abuse, total toilet and body service. Only serious minded over 35. NY, CT, NJ, Box 1312

CAPITOL DISTRICT: W / M, 34, 5'8'/4", 170 lbs, beard thick, masculine , muscular and into rough leather sex. Have slave who will be used in sessions. Write with photo Box B55

NEW YORK W / M, 28, 155 lbs., 6', Needs B.B. to 35 years to take orders and train my young Italian slave. Send photo / phone. box 1334

NEW YORK W / M, 35, 5'8", 160 lbs., 6" cut, medium build, seeks help to reach fulfillment as slave. Need strict but understanding Master to bring out ability to serve with body and mind. Not into scat or injury. Box 80

NYC, W / M, 30, well built muscular guy with hard dick sticking out, hairy chest, full beard, sweaty jock and good body wants to hump up against a stout guy. Esp. fat, bald, swarthy guys in tight pants and over hanging belly. I want to smell your crotch, feel up your ass, and hump my hard dick against your gut. Box 1330

NEW YORK CITY MASTER WANTED by M 30, Generous call guy into boots, uniform, NZ, SS, SM, B&B, Leather, way out verbal trips, have good earnings want to share with big Husky man any age over 190 lbs. Must be mean and street wise, cops-construction ok. Box 1324

NOVICE BLOND MASTER

N.Y.C., tall, slim, Good looking, Hung, Mid 20's requires totally submissive slave(s) for experimental bondage and training as dog slave. You will strip perform, beg to serve and obey in or out of bondage. No heavy pain trips, limits respected, just Humiliation, degradation and servitude. Especially like Latin or Italian types but all goodlooking young slaves considered. Also like to hear from other Masters. Box 1321

ATTENTION all hunky, smooth- skinned, collegiate-type bottoms: opportunityu to serve and submit to hot, football-super jock master while I watch and worship. Expect heavy bondage, light S&M. Send respectful letter detailing your description , experience, and limits, if any. Photo preferred. Southern Con-necticut location. Box B31

UNIFORMED CIGAR SMOKER

N.Y.C. Hot stud in uniform or full leather, 37, 6', 175 lbs., thick 8" cut. Short blonde hair, beard. Heavy cigar smoker, 1" nipples, tattoo, into fantasy scenes with well-hung men interested in boots, uniforms, motorcycle cops, S.S., toilet, FF, dildoes. Write with photos. Box 984

Wanna be stripped, gagged, chained, hoisted, shaved, polaroided, and worked over head to toes by mature. experienced Master? Send pic & personal data to Box A90.

WRESTLERS-LEVI'S-S / M

Mean, tough, vicious, ruthless stud, w / m, 6'2", wants to hear from same type dudes, all ages. Into no-holds-barred fighting, kicking, punching, and squeezing a guy's nuts, etc Exchange info, ideas, or meet. Box 804

TATTOED & PIERCED

43, 6'3", 165 lbs., interestd in open, masculine w / m, 30-50, not heavily into booze or drugs. Box 452

S&M CLUB FORMING: New York City Area only. All ages welcome, write for free questionnaire and information. Occupant, 167 West 80th Street, Apt. 4D, New York, NY 10024

BALLS, 43, 5'8", w, 155 lbs., Hot, out-of -doors type, together and creative. My sack hangs heavy with full hot nuts. If your re into giving / getting sensual pain to balls; let's let it on. Lots of equipment. A photo of your sack gets mine. Box 1286.

SYRACUSE S&M COUPLE LOOK-ING for real levi and leathermen in the Syracuse and N.Y.C. Area for medium to hieavy sessions. I'm 34, 5'11", 150 lbs., Blond, mustache, top. He's 23, 5'11", 155 lbs., dark hair, beard, moustache, top & bottom. Our interests are Bondage, Plercing, Nailing, FF, Wax, Shaving, T / T, C&B Torture, Whiping, W / S, Scat, Etc. Limits within Reason Respected. Letter & Photo to Box 2874, Syracuse; NY 13220

HOT SCAT

Hung hot dude looking for hungry mouth to eat hot scat from my asshole. Macho topman-into everything-your tits and ass-FF, Leather, WS, etc. See earlier ad "Marlboro Man" Drummer No. 34. I need your bearded mouth sucking my dirty hole clean. Write graphic letter . Letters with photo answered-Travel USA and overseas often. Box B76

NEW YORK CITY MASTER:

NEW YORK CITY Master, 45, 8" cut, hairy, bearded, masculine, intelligent-Seeks permanent slave with large uncut cock, long overhang , big loose balls, large nipples, hot ass, smooth body. Any age, race. Obedience with affection. Box 1497

MASCULINE, HUNG & DOMINANT

BROOKLYN, Attractive w / m. 30's. Masculine, Hung, Dominant, Stable & Nice-Wants GWM, who enjoys being Gr / Pass, good buns (enough to hold on to) dominated, very affectionate devoted for perm. relationship . Photo / phone if possible. Will send mine. Box 5177, New York, NY 10163

OBEDIENT BODY SLAVE AVAILABLE:

NEW YORK CITY Serious Bodybuilder , 5'9", 185 lbs., 28, goodlook-ing Seeks strict supervision, piercing military regimentation, dog discipline , body and mind ownership, by a Master who wants to be proud of his obedient body slave. Photo requested, SIR. Box 1493

HOT LEATHER TOPMAN 25 YEARS OLD

NEW YORK CITY, 25, 5'10", 150 lbs. Black Hair, Very Goodlooking and Hung wants New York City Slaves (18-26) with ahrd ass and hot mouth to be used for B&D, Toys, and ass play. Photo required / returned. Box 1486.Beginners considered.

NYC. FF RECEIVER, W / M, 28, 5'4", 110 lbs., 7", needs scenes with 30's Leather FFA Master into calibrated pain, B&D, Shaving, toys, Drugs, Photos, groups. Throw my ass in your sling. Box 1269

NEW YORK CITY, Goodlooking, stable guy, 33, Leo, 5'11", 150 lbs., wants to meet men wearing high soft leather cavalier boots, lace up mocassins, or pro wrestler boots. Will also buy your sweaty socks. Am sensual, exotic and passive. Box 1271.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 603, 147 West 42nd St., New York, NY 10036.

ATTRACTIVE EXPERIENCED SLAVE

NEW YORK-W / M, 31, 6'1" 185 lbs. athletic body, Intelligent and friendly needs young (18plus), Goodlooking, punkish and uninhibited Master to experience imaginative & heavy S&M and total submission. Photo appreciated . Please write Tom, Box 2001, Response answering service. 316 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10001 for prompt reply

NEW YORK-W / M, 5'11", 145 lbs., Wants to meet young, Horny Studs who dig wearing and fucking in high boots. Photo appreciated. Write to P.O.Box 1061, New York, NY 10028

RUBBER LOVER

DRY SUITS, Hip boots, Helmets, gas masks, Catheters. Would like to hear from others. Box 1470

ROUGH-HOUSE & RAUNCH

Buddy wanted for hot, wet, rugged contact in and out of sweaty Jocks. Especially UNCUTS. Send Photo: P.O.Box 1328; Grand Central Station ; New York City, NY 10017

NEW YORK SLAVE

W / M, 27, 5'9", 140 lbs., Solid body needs forceful Men to work on my BARE-ASS paddles, crops, whips. LB #37, 470-2nd Ave., New York City. NY 10016

NEW YORK CITY, HOT LOOKING W / M, 36. Seeks goodlooking men under 40 who like there Balls worked over. Have interesting toys for our enjoyment. Reply only if you like the real thing. Box 1465

NEW YORK CITY-28, 5'8", 150 lbs., 42" Chest, 30" Waist. Looking for a Dominant Masculine rugged sex partner. 30 years or older. Box 1464

CREATIVE S&M WRESTLING

HOT, BUILT, HUNG ITALIAN, 34, 5'8", 155 lbs., Ex-Prep Grappler, wants long imaginative free-style, developing dominating holds, moving into cleaver gear, oil, toys, C&B and Tit Torture. No hangups. Travel USA. Photo a must. Box 6186, Albany, New York 12206

NEW YORK-WELL USED WHITE MALEURINAL, TOILET AVAILABLE to singles, groups. Public, private. Box 863, D.M.S. 132 West 24, New York, NY 10011

TOTAL ASS & LEVIS FREAK

GWM, 35, Seeks Young, 18-30, Muscular Guys who will tease me in their tight Raunchy levis in preparation for a super hot rim job, B / J, and tongue bath and to feed me scat. A Levi covered ass is pure heaven. Serious only. Syracuse, New York Area. JIM (315) 638-0980

NEW YORK CITY AREA, S&M WANT TO MEET OTHERS into mutual satisfaction. Interest in Leather / Levi, Rubber, Jockstraps, Boots, Cock and Ball work, Tit work. Can top or bottom but prefer BOTTOM. Love J / O, W / S, Sucking, Fucking. Box 1383GREENWICH

VILLAGE, M. 43, 5'6", 145 lbs., 5%" Cut, White, warm, intelligent, level headed bottom seeks imaginative, experienced, caring Macho Leather / Levi partner to help me discover and expand my limits. Your service, my pleasure. No Fats, Fems or fakes. Sensuality a plus. Box 1392

NEW YORK W / M, 36, 160 lbs., Novice Wishes Training as slave. Will consider permanent slavery. Need help Sir to learn to serve and obey without question and accept treatment grate-fullyu . Prefer tall & strict no nonsense Master. Box 1421

TIGHT 501 LEVIS & SCAT

GWM, 35, Seeks Young, 18-30, well built guvs who wear tight raunchy levis and will give scat. I service with a super hot rim job, B / J, tongue bath, and body worship. Serious only please. Syracuse, New York Area. JIM (315) 638-0980

EXPAND MY LIMITS, Tattooed and ringed M, 35, seeks Sadist into belts. paddles, whips, cats, MARKS cheerfully accepted. Write-Occupant, 100 Bank St. #5A, New York, NY 10014

NORTH CAROLINA

GOLDSBORD, NC- 1-95 TRAVEL-ERS . And hunky Leather and boot wearing dudes notice. Two Leather loving, boot worshipping men, looking for friends, and want to help others . Both Versatile W / M's, 190 lbs., and 180 lbs., 5'11" and 5'10", Harley riders. Looking for a pet under 30 21 to take care over of. Phone / photo-replys answered first. Traveling soon—write now. Rick- /Larry Rt. 2, Box 137, La Grange, NC 28551

OHIO

SLIM NOVICE

23, Columbus desires manhandling, ws, boots, handcuffs, verbal, etc., from understanding big brother. Write with picture and telephone. Box 1331

COLUMBUS, SM, 32, 6', 180 lbs., Aries, intelligent professional, experienced . Seeks local friends 25-35. I'm into bondage, tit and C & B pain; have many toys and enjoy using them. Send letter with photo, box 730

CLEVELAND BODYBUILDER

Hot young white Master, 23, new to Cleveland, 6', 165 lbs., 8, exceptional mind, meat, looks, body, would like to meet hot, USDA prime slaves and / or other masters in Cleveland area. Write with photo and phone and limits to SIR, P.O. Box 16416, Cleve-land , Ohio 44116.

MASTER WANTED-Age 30-45, by Novice in Dayton, Ohio. Should have average or nice body. Am Greek passive , French active, heavy into piss-drinking . Willing to accept fist from right person. I am 34, white male, professional. Travel to Chicago and New York often, Box 1405

BOOT LOVER

27, 5'7", 137 lbs., looking for neat guy into Frye Boots that wants me to lick them and cum on them. Box 151.

AKRON AREA, GWM, 55, 6'1", 190 lbs., Trim, muscular, hairy desires relationship with similar Macho type. Enjoy sports, music, travel, active / P- assive, French or Greek. Affectionate & loving. Frank Rose, 4272 Leewood Rd. Stow, Ohio 44224 or call 688- 8164 6-10 p.m. or weekends til 11 p.m. Help right guy relocate. Over 40 please

CINCINNATI, MS / SM, Pisces, 28, 6', 165 lbs., white, 6", novice. Intelligent, seeks mutual satisfaction with friend / brother / lover 18-40 into light S&M, no fats, fems. Box A79

CLEVELAND, MS, 28, 6', 170 lbs. swimmer's build. Did you like playing cowboys and indians as a kid? I still do-I'm into wrestling, being captured and tied up to please my captor . If you like games, write to Box 21192, Cleveland, OH 44121.

COLUMBUS, SM, Virgo, 40, 5'9" 183 lbs., white, 6'/2"; biker, leather / levi, mutual satisfaction for macho, sincere , straight-appearing butch types. No fems, fats, snobs, chicken. Box 365

DAYTON. S, 35, 5'11", 155lbs., looking for part-time slave / houseboy. Pay considered for the right guy who is as willing to work as play. Good-looking , demanding, considerate master; the slave should have average looks,be under 30, and into the

HOT HORNY MASTER

Goodlooking, heavy set Master 30, seeks slaves under 35, for training and punishment limits respected and expanded. Box 1311

COLUMBUS, SM, 32, 6', 180 lbs., 7" aries, intelligent, professional, experienced . Seeks local friends 26-35. I'm into bondage, tit and C&B pain; have many toys and enjoy using them. Send letter with photo to Box 20422, Columbus, Ohio 43220

COLUMBUS M wants to learn to be a suitable slave; seeks a master who is discreet, white, cut, respects limits in a novice, into Bondage light S&M, Humiliation, camping / fishing, I'm white, 36, 5'11", 190 lbs., cut and strong willed. Willing to travel in state. Not into scat, FF, Drugs. Box 1322 1323

CINCINNATI W / M, 33, 160 lbs., br hair, bl eyes, beard, would like to meet guys 18-34, straight acting. I like music, bowling, walking in the woods, movies, nudity, action NO B&D, S&M. Mick, 11388 LeBanon Rd., Cincinnati, OH 45241 (Box 17)

BOOT FETISHISTS

Would like to meet and / or corres- pond with men into BOOT WOR-SHIP . Box 1478

SIR! W / M slave, 33, 5'11", 175 lbs., 7" cut, new to scene, seeks experienced Master for training.Box B24

OKLAHOMA

STILLWATER, 38, 5'9", 190 lbs., uncut, ex-police looking for other officers and ex-officers into policing, police leathers, uniforms, hop-phoopers and cycle cops as a lifes-tyle . No fakes, overly fat, fems, or drugs. Discreet. Box 885

MOUTH JOCK

A unique trip. Let your big soft cock and balls be strapped into my sensuous mouth pouch! Hunky cowboy, 33, 6'2", solid body, 71 / 2, loose balls, into western wear, military, police uniforms, athletes, seeks men with similar interests. Box 18441, Oklahoma City, OK 73154.

OKLA CITY SM, White, 43, 170 lbs., 5'10", good muscles, seeks willing hot men to 45 eager to experiment. All scenes considered with limits respected. Am eager to learn and teach. Prefer top but can be willing bottom. Beginners welcome. Discreet . No fats, reply with photo. Box A53

OREGON

VERSATILE Top & Bottom man seeks GR A / P, FR A / P in levis & boots. Bikers in leather okay too. No S&M, drugs, smokers. Enjoy wide variety of experiences but no painful or excessively kinky activities. I am in 40s, hung, discrete and affectionate. If you lust for life, I lust for you. Box A24.

HOT COP

Wanted by handsome, unruly fugi- tive, 31, 150 lbs., 5'7", Dave, Box 998, Beaverton, OR 97007

Portland bottom seeks dominant, aggressive top. Dig ass beating, humiliation, piss, rimming, toys, tit- work, kinky scenes. Am 31, 6'2", 185 lbs., goodlooking. Box 624.

SALEM, 48, 6', 190 lbs., Seeks younger submissive slim Salem area male for obedience training, spread eagled ass warming, tit / cock ball work. Prefer novice. Box 1325.

PORTLAND PIG

Hairy M, 22, 510", 170 lbs., wants aggressive top to help expand my limits. Into W / S, FF, Toys and want to learn more. Box 1336.

PORTLAND HARLEY OWNER w / m, 40, into boots, breeches, leather, rubber, wants to meet other big bikers within 600 miles of Por-tland . Box 1328

W / M, 24, NEED MY ASS warmed up real good. Turn me over your knee and spank me with your hand or bend me over a chair or on the bed and let me have it with a paddle. Box 1253

W / M, 5'10", 140 lbs., Goodlooking, Wants body contact, mental domination from hunky, aggressive top who will expand my limits. Box 1471

PORTLAND BOTTOM, slender, bearded, cuddler, 37, seeks artistic topman, sensualist, creative, into knots, oil, many trips. Box B77

W / M, 40, 6'0", 180 lbs., 8", into bon- dage, cock / ball / tit torture. Box A58

PORTLAND BOTTOM, Slender, Bearded, Cuddler, 37, seeks artistic Topman, Sensualist, Creative, Into knots, Oil, Many Trips. Box 1259

PENNSYLVANIA

ANYONE WHO HAS WRITTEN TO BOX 802, and has not received an answer, is ordered to re-submit to Master's Company, Box 1448, Scran-ton , PA 18510

MUSCULAR & MASCULINE S

30, 6'1", 200 lbs., 8" cut, seeks instru- ment of suffering and service. You are a muscular straight-appearing M who needs to submit to the abusive control of an understanding but strict and imaginative Master. Send your letter of submission with Photo to: Masters Company, Box 1448, Scran-ton , PA 18510

FOOT SERVICE

I know how to please, 5'6", 32, 140 lbs., w / m, will worship your feet- /boots. Moustache a plus, beards O.K. Box 705

Continued on p. 71

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DRUMMER 64

CASTRO STATION D 456 Castro A Leather / Levi Bar

A recent communique from Fetters/ New York commented: "Our cellar doesn't always look so tidy – but from time to time somebody has to pick up the pieces, and check that they still work. The cellar isn't damp, but the atmosphere often gets a bit steamy. The basic range of Fetters' hardware gets more varied all the time; but so tainly the guy who comes to read the gas meter has noticed the difference!

"Whether you're spreadeagle wide open by tough rawhide thongs — or strapped into a canvas / leather cocoon like some dunce standing in the corner of the schoolroom, you know that you're going to learn from the experience. "Getting the feel of things is what a lot of people who fantasize really want, but when the thing is a completely indestructable strait-jacket it doesn't take long to find out how little 'give' there is in those horsehide straps. You've heard about Houdini and how he could fight his way out of any strait-jacket - don't believe it, if it's well made and correctly put on, you're in it until someone lets you out.

"There aren't many skin-tight all-leather strait-jackets around, especially with a snug-fitting hood that locks into place like ours. And these leather hoods remove you even further from reality; the sounds of the cellar become distant - but there are other senses to be

The world is not perfect. It never has been, and it never will be. For me this is a constant irritation. I do not mind sweating under the sun. The hard labor keeps my body strong and gives me time to think. I do not mind my Master beating me to satisfy his own sexual desires or to undo his own frustrations. His whips and rods satisfy my sexual desires and undo my Trustrations, I am filled with him. His life is my life.

I do mind New Zealand, This land is not me. There are no cities in the sky. There are no kites. There are no balloons, All the buildings are brick boxes squatting h

I resent this world that has no place for me, yet demands I reside in it. I resent having been torn away from my loved ones. I resent having been torn away from a community where people loved openly, whatever their sexuality, a community I could relate to and a people I could relax among, the city that was me. Here I know only strangers. I crowd that trivalizes my native identity and intimidates any happiness I might unfold.

I resent these people who are alien and ugly to me, people who do not understand anything of me and would hate me if they did, possibly cage me or kill me. I resent the other slaves I must work with. I resent the askwardne displaying instead my own lusting enthusiasm for other men. I despise the necessity of hiding myself, my profoundest truths, my every moment while they are free to pedestal their most fleeting whims and decorate their shallowest illusions with extravagant approvals.

I want only my Master. I want to labor for him in solitude, but the fields require a collective effort and I must labor among men with other masters, men who are as ignorant of me as I am perceptive of them, having had the

sleep anywhere else. I can no longer sleep unless he does tie or chain me. He is my space as much as I am his property.

We fill each other. We dance like savages.

There are times when he adores me. There are times when he openly considers killing me. Often he terrorizes me so I lie awake at night, confused that I should love such a man and angry that he should claim to love me. Only in retrospect do I ever realize the terror has only been a game, only my Master playing with me once again, manipulating my deepest emotions to amuse some sadistic whim. Always he disrupts me. Always I believe him, never knowing he is doing what he has done before. What I do know, he invalidates as soon as I learn it. I begin to understand him at one level; he attacks me from another, playing but always terrorizing with total credibility. He never gives it a second thought. I ponder it for days.

There are times when I hate him more than I have ever hated anyone. There are times when I love him as totally as I love Daniel. The oscillations are as exhilarating as they are draining. Our life is like a breathless crashing of great waves forever surging out of the calm in a fluid frustration that piles with sadistic fury and sweeps us through a sexual storm that may take days to abate. Sometimes the crashing calm is only an eye, his cold hazel eyes piercing all of me at once, transfixing my energy into some strangely static euphoria that has not the sense to recognize the other side of the storm approaches and he is only calculating how to force me through it. Other times the calm is spiritual and we are like children together in a garden of monsters.

New Zealand is teeming with smiling monsters who hate any living thing that would live in the light of the sun or the pull of the moon. They would mask their bitter pit with the walls of a charming propiety and call us bugs for seeking a more honest dirt.

If we are bugs, we are evolutionarily supreme. We know our limitations. We note the world for its and compensate. We are forever deviating in order to optimize our potentials . We survive in a forever changing world and with a vigor that is as perverse as it is progressive. We do not trespass on others unless our only alternative is self-defeating . We, in turn, aid only those who trespass as we would or who trespass on us with less. We tolerate no invasion from those who have more. We are balance. We are energy. We are gluttons for sensation. I survive him as I survive the world, for he is the world, and the world is not perfect.

Still I love him. I serve him. I am his lowly slave because only he is my superior. Only he can manipulate my soul as easily as I manipulate the boys who stumble after me, laughing at the leather strap around my throat and the rings that hang in the skin between my legs. They laugh, but how quick they are to do whatever I ask of them. They will do anything for the chance to come closer and touch the objects of their ridicule. They know, as all children know, the truths adults can no longer find, truths that are self-evident . They see my eyes and know I am no fool. They smell my fear when I am beside my Master and know my scars and bruises are no accident. They watch my bone and know how fully my fear of him excites me. They see my muscles and know I am better fed and better shaped than they. Their laughter reeks of embarrassment.

They cannot see the days I have survived on nothing but my Master's piss and feed meant for pigs. They cannot see the days he has broken me, the days spent relentlessly sobbing, my body and soul saturated with pain and guilt, another part of me freshly killed, another part newly born. They cannot see the depths to which I am his creation.

Every morning his machines unbind me and prod me in- to fumbling down cold stairs to the hole where I am to relieve myself and gather the logs for his kitchen, I stoke his stove, boil his water, and grind his beans. I dare not wake him without his bowl of fresh coffee in my hands. I must always kiss him warmly, however venomous my nearest thought.

While he drinks, I expose myself to the winter dawn, crossing the cobbled streets of Portsmouth to gather the daily news and bring it to his bed. While he feeds the buttons into his screen, reading every neon symbol, I clean and polish every edge and surface of his toilet. He rarely uses it. I am always to clean and polish it as if he has. If his boots are dull, I wax and polish them with my bone obediently reverent, big and hard. If he is still reading and I have nothing to do, I am to lie beside him and wait for whatever he gives me. Often he gives me nothing. Sometimes he caresses me, fingering my hair or rolling my bags in his hand. Sometimes he keeps my bags under his feet and steps on them with a varying brutality. Only occasionally will he condescend to letting me lick the filth from his crotch.

After the tenth cock of the day, I walk along the Congo, gathering communications, altering his purchasing power, and collecting the food and necessities he has ordered me to buy. I am to anticipate nothing. If I see some item he has not mentioned, but I know he will need, I am to ignore it. He decides his needs. He anticipates his future. I only do what I am told to do and never evaluate his silence.

The rest of the day I am free to do as I wish as long as he knows where I am and I am immediately available whenever he calls, wherever he may call from. When he orders me to his polished wood floor, I know to bring a rag. He will grab me by the hair, wrench me into some awkward posi- tion, usually on my knees, and then piss long and hard on my face and body. When he is done, he releases my scalp and I must lick his floor clean of the puddle, then wipe the spot dry with my rag. I am not to lick my body clean. Only the open air is to dry it. I lick the floors at least three times daily, once after he finishes reading the news, once near midday, and once before dinner. If he has to piss at night, I must drink it from his bone as quickly as he releases it. These are my greatest moments. When he pisses down my back and drenches my hair, my body dripping slick from head to toe, my bone rages big and hard. My spine arche to the sky, then dips, driving my crotch into the ground, and my nerves erupt as if minor orgasms flashing under the heat of his piss flowing down between my elephants where my hole opens wide, ready to be drilled. He never uses my hole then. He only drills me when I am unprepared.

When we are not alone, he uses the toilet. I can never share my moment with others. I must never think too highly of it. It is enough that it fulfills me. It is as it should be

Every day around the seventeenth cock, he exercises me. He stands over me with his rod while I repeat some physical action of his own design. I repeat it until I think I can exert the same muscles no further. His rod shows me I can use them several times more. When I can repeat the same action many times and he loses patience, he speeds my exhaustion by adding weights to my shoulders or to wherever they will most resist my motion. He exercises me until my lungs are squeezing air like a piston and I taste blood in my wind. He exercises me until I collapse and am sure not to move while he prepares his dinner.

Every night we eat together at the nineteenth cock. He eats at a large mahogany table in a dark leather chair with carved dragons slithering up its legs. I eat on the floor, lying between his feet which are forever playing with my ears. He eats from the finest stone dishes with shiny silverware and drinks from intricate glass goblets. I eat whatever he places in my mouth or drops to me, using my fingers and drinking from a plastic bowl which is never to leave the floor. I either lick my water or cup it into my hands.

After dinner, he washes his dishes. The only dish I can ever touch is his coffee bowl. While he washes, I go down to my hole where I am to relieve myself for the second time that day, then gather logs and return to start a fire in the main room. After he is done, he reads lying in a large hammock that hangs before the hearth. I always lie in it with him so his feet can continue to molest my ears, sometimes forcing themselves into my mouth to hear me choke or to demand I lick them. Always I am to read when he reads. He gives me a book he wants to know but has not the time for. We discuss it when his eyes weary of the one he is reading.

At the lsst cock, he stretches before me, naked on his bed, his long slender body expecting to be massaged. I begin with his feet, knuckling his soles and rubbing oil into them, letting the shape of his feet guide my strokes through the most sensually rewarding areas, along the arch, around the ankles, across the ball and the crease of his toes, and over the top slopes. I watch his great muscles shift and, when they shift no more, oil his calves, working them into total lethargy before returning to his feet and massaging geet and calves as a whole. His thighs are thick and hard. My hands and mind climb towards them out of the daze below his knees and work each entire leg as if it were his bone. His elephants flex and relax, flex again. I caress the ridges on both sides of his bags and the zone beneath them while my tongue goes down to him to massage the hole that only my tongue may touch. These are the most dangerous moments of my life. I must not arouse him. I must only bring him deeper into lethargy. And yet I am aroused by the smell of the oil on his thighs and under his bags as I lick his hole. The control expected of me is awesome. Only my fear of him checks my lust.

From his elephants I climb his spine, oiling and knuckling it in long strokes from his elephants to the base of his skull and back. Sometimes my hands spread out from the strokes to sweep across his solid loins or knead his taut shoulders. Sometimes my hands extend the strokes and massage him behind the ears, up and down the back and sides of his neck and skull, circling at his temples and rub- bing his scalp as if he were one of the garden cats I often stroke into orgasming. Sometimes I wonder what his name

IS.

Then he binds me. Without warning, his well-oiled body reaches for my scalp, clutches my hair, and stands suddenly envigorated. He drags me to the ropes or the chains and does with me what he will for the night. He will never allow my massage to lull him to sleep. He would never let me think I have such power over him. He ties me with ropes so tight I never forget them, even in my dreams. The chains are thick and forever heavy. They too are never forgotten. He bags me, he leaves me by his toilet, or he lets me sleep beside him. If I am lucky that is all he does. Sometimes he adds clamps to my tits and sometimes to my bags or all of my body, leaving me in a pain that only grinds deeper into my being as the hours pass. He enjoys hearing me whimper in the night. He programs his machines to remove the clamps only after my misery has reached a certain noise level, one he has chosen and I can never anticipate. I would be a fool to reach it too quickly. My misery must remain forever honest.

The next morning his machines unbind me and prod me into fumbling down cold stairs to begin another day. Our routine is the rhythm of our life. Its intensity never dulls.

Every Wednesday and Friday, my Master's labor advisor visits once in the morning and once near dinner. They are in their ridiculous clothes; I am naked. They sit in their chairs and discuss something called labor-intensive exploitations while I sit on the floor in a nearby corner, available but otherwise ignored. Often I sit there openly fingering between my elephants while watching them. It amuses me what they do not see.

Every Saturday and Sunday offends me. I enjoy working the fields. They feed him, I enjoy chopping wood and building his fire. It keeps him warm. It offends me to paint walls that need no paint. Wood and stone should be naked, not corrupted with artificial colors. It infuriates me to have to clean and dust his things. Cleaning anything is a defilement of its basic nature. It infuriates me to rob them of their odors. It infuriates me to deprive them of their aging. Often he makes a point of burdening weekends with superfluous labor. It hardens his bone to see my futile fury.

At any moment of every day he might attack me. I can never know when it will be. He feeds on the surprise and terror that flashes through my being when he suddenly appears, grabs me, and hurls me to the floor or against some wall, there to whip and abuse my body until I am sobbing, and once sobbing, forced to suck his bone. He continues to beat me. I must never reach to stop him. I must never appeal to him for love. I must never retaliate. My screams let me bring his bone ever deeper into my throat. My final roar swallows him all the way, and my gagging desperation as he rapes my face spills him. Often he grabs me by the scalp and yanks his bone free just in time to spill his sperm across the back of my shoulders where my tongue will never reach. Usually he frees my mouth, only to slap it and shove my lips onto his hypersensitive tits. In all this violence, I must sob gently on his tits. I must love them as if they were the last on Earth, and then leave them as soon as his hot sperm has finished hitting me. Rarely will he let me eat it.

Often, when he beats me, I am free to escape him, but dare not flee. Sometimes he chains me to an overhead beam so I can forget myself, flee with total abandon, and still not escape him. When he beats me with his strap, I am crazy with the pleasure of it and insatiable. He can belt me for an entire afternoon and I will not have had enough. Sometimes the bruises are surprisingly pale. Sometimes they are a violent purple. He whispers into my ears of their beauty in his eyes. I do not love them until the purple dulls under the dust of new cells, blending more with my natural tone so that the bruises seem a part of me, a hide less monotonously colored rather than a body brutally wounded. When he beats me with his whips or rods, I am broken within minutes and hate him for it, having found no pleasure in it. He would say it is as it should be.

Whether he breaks me within minutes or hours, my screams strain into shrieks and my belly hollows, strangely flaccid as if the terror-stricken body of some beast about to be disembowelled alive in the jaws of its predator. When he stops, the shock of his beating bolts through my chest, ripping open a mindless roar that shoots from the guts and pulls up my throat, seeming to blast out of my mouth and eye without limit, without ending. The roar collapses into sobbing. I collapse as close to the floor as my chains or ropes will let me. When he releases me, I may strike the cold stone ground or I may unravel in the embrace of his mighty arms. By then I am too mindless to notice which. My bone is always big and hard and raging. He is above touching it. If it amuses him, he orders me to work it and spill. I obey.

My orgasms terrify most people. People tense at my total abandon, at the fierce bulging of my muscles, the blast of my breath mounting into a violently blowing noise that finally breaks screaming. When my sperm spills, it is as if it has torn itself from my flesh and brought my guts with it. After the last rip, my breathing opens even wider, blows even more violently, establishing a harsh constant stroke, strictly measured inhalations that last only so long before they stagger, I cease to breathe altogether, and somewhere my body seeks another level of energy, a new stroke, a more relaxed order. The breathing starts again, still un- nervingly forced. It may take half an hour for my breathing to subside and relocate a calm autonomy. By then my Master has left me, bored. He notes my orgasm the way he notes a dead fly being dragged by ants across the window sill. He is more likely to flick the fly away for the ants' frustration than to marvel at the intricate savagery of life.

Sometimes he orders me to spread my legs and then beats my bone and bags without mercy, using his rod or the strap. If I try to close my legs, he will only beat them longer and harder. I can shriek and claw at anything within reach. I dare not beg for ropes and chains to pull against. I dare not try to block his blows. He beats me until he spills, and then he leaves regardless of whether or not my own bone has hardened. I lie there for hours, cold and unthinking . Often I remain there into the dark of night, unable to sleep as the first thoughts finally emerge and crystallize into fierce dissatisfactions, a burning anger invading my love of him.

When I am at my angriest with him, I deny his authority over me. I chain my hands and feet together myself and crawl into my bag without a word from him. Often he locks the bag shut so I cannot get out. Our wills do battle. I wait for him to lose patience with having to grind his own beans, build his own fire, and do his own chores. He waits for me to hunger and thirst and scream for mercy in the closing in of space and time, frantic to stretch beyond the bag, frantic to see light, frantic for other stimulations.

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Often he breaks before I do. I win, but I am beaten cruelly for it when he finally unlocks the bag and pulls me out. My only triumph remains in knowing that secretly he loves me for it. A slave who never rebelled would bore him.

I know when he is truly angry with me, when I have done something I am never to do again. He drags me to the corner where hangs the cage with three hooks. My belly hollows, terror-stricken. I resist him with all my energy. I stop thinking and I grab any object he cannot move to that corner. He pries me from it with unnerving skill, electrocuting me with his cattle prod or burning me with his matches. I strike out at him, biting, kicking, clawing and beating him. I have nothing to lose but my life, and he knows how truly I would prefer death to the Treatment.

By the time he has brought me to that corner, I am too exhausted to resist. His fury has no exhaustion. If I am not naked, whatever he has put on my body is torn from it. He even deprives me of the leather strap around my throat. Without his collar, I am nothing, I bawl with the humilia- tion of its removal. He opens the cage with three hooks and throws me into it. There he chains my legs, spreading them far apart between two of the hooks while he uses the third to chain my arms overhead, hauling me off my flaccid belly into a kneeling position. The pain on my knees is excruciating. The strain on my back is equally excruciating. They alone destroy me. He forces a rubber plug up my hole after having coated the plug with a burning cre fire opens me into empty shrieking. He gags me. He tight- ens a spiked ring around the base of my hopelessly harden- ing bone and hangs lead weights from it so the spikes slowly dig in. He adds weights until he sees blood trickling down my bloated shaft. Then he attaches metal clamps to my bags until clusters of them are pinching every surface and forever pinching harder. The agony never dies, never levels, only climbs. He clamps my tits as well, adds weights to them to loose a higher pitch from my open mouth. He leaves the house. I am not even allowed the comfort of his hearing me.

The hours are impossible to describe, so mindless, so horrid, and yet they shrivel to insignificance upon his return . The worst. How do I describe the worst? It is so inadequate to say he kills. He taps at every clamp with his riding crop, strikes chains and weights and opens entirely new fields of excruciating mindlessness. When he removes the clamps, the agony cannot be fathomed. I beg him not to remove them even though he must. My ears have bled from the screams constantly tearing so much out of my depthless being. Depthless, all energy blasting at the surface while all that is within burns with a fury dissipating into concern. Concern. I had not seen that before. Fury collapsed into seriousness, and that bawled into

The wave. I have seen, I have felt pain forcing harmonies out of balance. I have noted the frantic oscillation of activities that follows within me, anxiety in search of a way to eliminate itself. The activities connected to these oscillations unfold other activities, forces trying to bring the previous harmonies back into balance through a new alignment with the immediate world. When the anxiety the energy to does not pass, fury seeks extra energy attack, the energy to escape. The more difficult either are to do, the more furious the mind becomes until it has not the energy to continue. The fury idles, serious. If there still is no return to balance, sobriety weeps. Weeping, like orgasms , brings the body back into balance regardless of most environmental influences. The new balance energizes itself. The fury can return if need be.

The Treatment trivializes fury and degrades it as utterly futile, if not childish. I can find no hatred when it is over. My ruin only pleads for mercy and forgivance and worships the receipt of either. Nothing remains that can or will note the degree to which he who takes the pain away gave it to begin with. Nothing remains to boil at the knowledge that no crime of mine has ever warranted the Treatment, I have harmed no one, and yet my own erotic body is made repugnant to me. I have trespassed on no one, and yet I am caged and left starving for life. I note these truths in retro-

spect, revere their consequences, and work for the future. I will do anything to avoid the Treatment. It is as it should be. I love him.

I always know when his mood is building toward cruelly beating me for days. He becomes more loving than usual, doing little things he knows will cheer me, bringing me with him to the trashcans or the pots or letting me watch the screen. Sometimes he fills my bowl with his piss and lets me drink it with my dinner. When he is most generous, when he loves me most openly, he gives me some great and wondrous thing, another dirty sock for the pile I nose while sleeping, or a crotchpouch he has worn and pissed in for days. All these things he gives me knowing how pro- foundly they excite me, smelling of his body and sweat and the ground he has tread, and yet I can never fully enjoy them, for I know the happier I become, the more miserable he plans to make me. When his sadism finally erupts, even having been anticipated, my happiness becomes his cruelest joke, and the great and wonderous gift a mere trinket in the storm.

Still, I know he beats me then with love. He chains or ties my wrists to an overhead beam and binds my feet tightly together with rope or thong, then pulls his sweaty socks off his feet and shoves them into my mouth before forcing my head inside a skintight leather hood with only two holes for my nostrils. These things he does before he beats me, knowing I will enjoy the beating more because of them, not because I might then justify my love of his strap by pretending the bonds give me no other choice, but because the bondage sexually arouses me. I do not need to justify anything that gives me pleasure. He has bound me as effectively with his psychic power as he will ever bind me with ropes and chains. Only the ropes and chains excite me. He could beat me as he usually does, without ropes or chains, and then when all is done, hogtie and gag me, leaving me tightly trussed rope for hours, and I would love him for it as much. Without the ropes and chains, his thrashing rod or whip is heartless and breeds only hatred in me, however brief. I can never hate him for long.

Often he comes to me in the middle of the night or rolls over to me when I am in his bed. I wake to his forcing his bone between my elephants, breaking the peeve in my hole, and opening a mighty wind inside me as he slides deep into me and drills without affection. He does it as a Master would to any slave. After he spills, his great sweating weight lifts away without a word and returns to sleep.

Only once has he ever come to me in the dark of night and loved me tenderly. I dared not resist, I dared not encourage him. He only wanted to taste me and hear my groans and snickers as his tongue licked my face, poking into my ears and nose, washing my eyes and cheeks and the line of my jaw where he sucked and nibbled, then savagely chewed, sinking his smokey teeth into the lump in my throat and sucking, chewing, working monumental sensations that spread outrageously across my shoulders and down my spine. His tongue followed them, telling me he knew they were there. He sucked and chewed and caressed my body all night, methodically leaving no part unbitten. I lost all definition, dropping into bright voids and soaring across them on windy stimulations. He licked the soles of my feet. I laughed. He licked them until they ticled so much I tried pulling them away. He grabbed my ankles, squeezed them together in his huge firm grip, and ravaged my soles, nipping and slurping until he was ripping me apart between laughing and crying out of control. When it was most excruciating, when I thought every shred of my being would split and die, he abruptly dropped my fee and vanished into the shadows.

The next morning, all of me was purple or red, my bags swollen and my bone so tender between my legs I thought I would not walk for days. His machines unbound and prodded me. I staggered to the hole, gathered his logs, ground his beans, crossed Portsmouth, and walked along the Congo. The frustration of moving so much pain had me on the verge of screaming, but it was the clearest moment of my life. It was the day I first worshipped him.

Some would say my Master and I are not growing. They would say our passions are proof we hate ourselves. They are too much in their own tragedy. They do not know the depths of our happiness. We do not play with life and death, love and hate, and indulge in pain as well as pleasure to beat our heads against a wall, hoping to destroy ourselves . Our lives are enriched by it. It places us in the constant process of exceeding our expectations, those we have of ourselves and those I have of him.

I can never exceed my Master's expectations of me. It is not in the nature of our relationship. When I do more for him than he has asked, when I know I have pleased him beyond any pleasure previously provided, it is only as it should be.

Sometimes I feel like a little boy next to him. Other times I have all the savagery of an adult. I control it. To do less would be to incur the Treatment. Sometimes my control is so great it would easily bore him, except that boring him will incur the Treatment as easily as infuriating him. There is much to balance in being a slave.

I must be like the children who stumble after me, laughing . They eye me with an unbiased vision. So I must eye him. They listen to me with unbiased ears. So I listen to him. For the children, it is only natural. I dare not watch or listen to him any other way. I know there are things he dares not say to me, just as there are things I dare not say to the children. They learn my meaning, I learn his, without risking the losses we would incur should others discover the undercurrents of our communication. The children learn and seek more. I learn and seek more more cautiously. We both hunger for the unknown, the different, the subversive . We both love to grow.

Sometimes he offers me his feet. They are his greatest gift to me. I watch them often. He is forever moving them, rubbing one against the other, his toes stroking the inside of his thick socks until I am fiercely longing to suck on them. I fill my eyes and nose with them, but I dare not taste until he has molested my lips with them and shoved them between my teeth. I would bite his feet off, but they are my world. I live beside them.

I hate him for what he destroys in me. I love him for what he has created. I love him most when he offers me his body, when he lets me lick it from sole to scalp, licking and tasting and smelling him until all of me is seething and hungering with orgasms in every breath, lusting for his sperm so much I will catch much of it before it lands anywhere . The rest I will lick up from wherever it has settled, on his sheets, in the dirt, on my body. Anywhere. When he permits me. hate him most when he forces me to clean my body. I hate him as he stands over me, pointing at the cage with three hooks while demanding I scrub myself. I hate him as he gives me the soap. I hate him as he shaves me, but I hate him most when he has finished and I am left with the nauseating smell of a clean body. It can last for hours, all of me desperately waiting for his piss, longing to sweat, secretly begging him to leave so I can sneak to where I last slept and bury my face in his socks and his crotch-pouches , smelling, breathing, alive again.

Sometimes he is ridiculous and ugly to me. Often his beauty is incomparable and fills me with an awesome love. There are times when I seriously fantasize killing him. There are times I fantasize he is a god, the thunder and lightning in a crazed, uncomprehending mind that views all the world with the simple frankness of being an animal. It is our vision. It is as it should be.

* * *

He will not tolerate me speaking in my native tongue. It is not enough I have learned the word piss so quickly and no longer say fizz and soda. I have to remember that the pots are the baths and that trashcans are bars. A butt is a butt, not elephants. Nineteen hundred is nineteen hundred , not the nineteenth cock of the day; and a cock is a cock, not a peanut, not a carrot, not a bone.

He is forcing me to read Gertrude Stein.

Mac ha

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